To Ride the Carousel Again
Chapter 34
Disclaimer: Rights to the Harry Potter universe are owned by
J.K. Rowling and other well-heeled corporations.
I receive no material compensation for this work.
Where our intrepid group attempts to dazzle 'em with brilliance.
Do not take any of the financials used or mentioned in this story as financial advice or taxation advice. It will probably be wrong, possibly illegal, as my interpretation of the internet search results of HMG inheritance/tax codes for 1992-1993 is, for me, very difficult to impossible to make sense of.
Yeah, I know it has been less than three weeks since the last chapter. However, it's done. I have no rational reason to keep it under wraps.
Approx. 5,400 words.
"He's being cautious about being familiar with me, especially with so many Death-Eaters-in-the-making within earshot. Daphne must have clued her father in as to how bad the Snake Pit has become. With Malfoy getting all the backup from Lucius he wants, any threats from him involving students' families could become very real," Harry thought.
After two minutes of meaningless chit-chat, a comment from Mrs. Greengrass gave Harry his opportunity.
"Yes. Lady Greengrass, I agree that the Hogwarts houses have become too insular. My godfather told me I was to be sociable tonight and I think I will follow his advice."
Harry turned to the trio of girls and said, "Miss Greengrass, would you partner a dance with me?"
*/*
Next day, Saturday, January 1, 1993
Harry and Hector were at the bottom of the Granger house stairs. They were waiting for their dates to the Dentist's Dance to appear.
Seeing that Harry was distracted, he stopped trying to ease the boy's nerves and just stood there with him quietly.
As he nervously played with his tuxedo, touching the cummerbund, then the shirt studs, fiddling with his cufflinks, Harry was riffling through his memories of last night and today.
His first dance of his new life had been a wonderful prank on everybody watching him. Gauging him, and judging him. "Hope they all go bonkers trying to figure out the hidden meanings of my choices of dancing partners. Especially when there are none."
After saying, "Miss Greengrass. Would you partner a dance with me?" he had stepped forward and held out his crooked arm to Astoria.
The reactions had been, as he looked back, hilarious. Lord Greengrass frowned. Lady Greengrass smothered a grin with her hand.
Davis had looked shocked. Daphne was so surprised her eyebrows raised almost an eighth of an inch and her cheeks pinked a mite.
Astoria giggled and a huge grin lit up her face as with barely any hesitation she latched on to his arm with a "Certainly, Lord Potter," and marched him off towards the dance floor.
The crowd between them and the dance floor parted like water around a moving ship. Fortuitously, the small orchestra was just finishing some musical piece, and guests were approaching and leaving the dance floor.
As he nervously positioned himself for the start of the music, for the first time tonight he perused his dance companion. Bright blue eyes, wavy light brown hair with some sparkly green ribbons woven through, a high-necked grey-green robe with dark green trim.
"Ahhh. This is a four-beat dance. Easier than a waltz."
"This is a four-beat dance, correct?" he said quietly. She looked back and a bit nervously agreed.
He did something Hermione had told him about. He bounced lightly on his feet, muttering 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4, then started with his right foot forward.
Astoria followed him as he moved. The pair was not flowingly graceful, but for a couple that had not danced before they did alright.
Almost four minutes later, the music stopped.
"Would you care to return to your sister, Miss Greengrass?" he inquired.
"No," she said begging with her eyes. "One more dance, please?"
Harry smiled down at the young girl. "Okay."
Next was a fast waltz. Neither did as well as the first dance, but neither fell down or tripped their partner. All in all, an auspicious dancing debut for the young Lord. And it had been sharply observed by many.
He escorted Astoria back to her sister who was still being watched over by her parents.
A few remarks, a barely audible, "I'll owl you, sir," and with a parting bow, he left for the welcoming, or at least neutral, gathering of Gryffindors.
He regretted the move immediately as Lavender, with Fay in tow, descended upon him like a stooping falcon.
He only lasted a little over five minutes under her relentless barrage of questions before making sure his ring was visible before saying. "Miss Brown, don't you think your hunt for gossip material has become too personal?"
A glance at the ring, a look into the thoroughly pissed green eyes of the ring-wearer, and a sharp elbow in her ribs from Dunbar had her snapping her jaw shut and giving him a slight curtsy as she fled for the safety of the gathered Gryffs.
Harry just gave a rueful smile that grew as his eyes lit onto Susan Bones. He liked Susan. She could be restful at times and didn't natter on inanely.
A quiet stroll over to the Hufflepuff contingent again had every free eye tracking him. He was trying to tamp down the urge to hex 'em all as he once again approached the lovely Heiress Bones and asked if he could steal her from Miss Abbott for a couple of dances.
This time around he caught a pair of waltz' and it took all his concentration to keep from stepping on the auburn-haired girl's feet. This was a good thing as it kept Harry from ogling her chest. The orange-yellow robe she was wearing was very age-appropriate but did little to hide her early development. Or his memories of her later development.
Harry was also distracted. He kept wanting to stop and go over the information from Erzelkendis he had re-read this morning for the umpteenth time, but this time he thought he had gained or remembered knowledge of specific places where Man Mountain said the horcruxes were hidden.
However, by now Harry was sure it was a plot against him. Hermione had kept him busy with more dance lessons in the afternoon and now the party. Lavender had set his temper on the hob and the crowd around was turning up the gas.
They returned just as Neville was released from his greeting duties and joined the 'Puffs. He was trying to stand near Hanna Abbott without looking like he was. He mentioned he was feeling peckish and was heading over to the buffet snacks laid out in the dining room.
The whole group traipsed after him.
Sophisticated little no-crust sandwiches, fancy finger foods, cakes with fruit topping, cake with fruit filling, ices, goblets of butterbeer. It was a young teenager's paradise. Neville commented there was another buffet on the far side of the ballroom. The food was more substantial and had 'adult beverages'.
Harry kept track of the time and after eleven o'clock, he headed over to the still grouped up Ravenclaws. Moving slowly, so as to give everyone time to see he was coming, he approached the slightly taller than him slender blond he knew as Lisa Turpin.
A request to partner with him had the two off to the dance floor where Harry performed credibly for another pair of dances.
He reflected during the return to the 'Claws, that the rigid formality practiced by upper British magical society actually helped to keep the awkwardness of the situations of requesting a dance and what to do when the dancing was done.
And classes at Hogwarts, likes and dislikes gave a ready topic of conversation. Quidditch? Any mention of the sport had rabid supporters of one team, one position or referee calls, locked in furious battle with the supporters of another team, one of the other three positions, or how the blind referees blatched their team with an obviously bias call.
A final trip over to the Lions, an appeal to 'Miss Dunbar' for a final pass around the dance floor, and Harry was done. He was grateful he had managed to avoid any of the patterned group dances. He excused himself, said a quiet goodbye and thank you to Neville, and floo'd to the Leakey Cauldron.
Ypres must have been listening for him as the elf appeared and touching Harry, elf popped him home as fast as Harry could have floo'ing direct.
Inconvenient? Yes, but it kept the Potter Manor secret just a bit more secure.
He was so tired, that he barely stayed awake through the midnight celebration of Sirius and Lupin. Ypres had to pop the sleeping boy to his bed.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
It was a death-warmed-over-looking Harry who plopped down for breakfast on New Year's morning. He blearily noted the other two were not down for breakfast yet. They probably stayed up talking and drinking way too long last night, he was willing to bet.
After breakfast and many cups of strong black tea, he headed to his study, and again pulled out from his blood-locked (Oww!) desk drawer, the pages of his memories of his Upper Management visit.
They had not changed since yesterday. Except the refresher from reading them had suddenly made some connections in his mind.
Possessed diary. Safe in his basement, but he had a problem. He sent Ypres yesterday to buy a silver-lined lead box. It turned out the maker of such boxes, which had only one real use, was regulated by the Ministry and had to be purchased in person with parchment work to be filled out, copies of which would be sent to the Ministry.
Harry would bet that someone would get word of Harry buying such a box to Dumbles-of-Snore and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot would be leading the aurors to investigate why a twelve-year-old Harry Potter needed a Dark Artifact container. Interfering wanker.
Harry thought of Sirius telling him of his house with lots of dark objects in it. Maybe get him to buy a container?
House of Gaunt, Head of House ring. Last Gaunt residence. No idea. Ministry might know where the last residence was?
Locket of Lord Slytherin. Black residence. Somehow talk Sirius into going there when St. Mungo's releases him.
Cup of Helga Hufflepuff. Gringotts.
It was easy now to remember how being near Quirrell had set off headaches from his scar. They were distinct from his general 'my eyes are tired and I've been studying too long' that felt different and were behind his eyes or made his whole head hurt.
And he wasn't getting those like he used to since he bought his new glasses this summer.
Last year, the last scar ache had been in the room Voldemort/Quirrell and the Mirror of Erised. He now knew from the diary that being near a part of Voldemort fractured soul set a scar headache off, and he had started to get one in the deep vault area of Gringotts while looking at the dragon this summer. He was so used to them, he passed it off as nothing unusual at the time.
Could his fragment have been interacting with a horcruxes hidden deep in Gringotts? Could he, or should he tell the goblins? Maybe a few hints dropped to Tongueripper about his first-year adventures and link that with headaches? Maybe the grumpy old goblin might get a clue?
Was his scar being a horcruxes finder something Erzelkendis had forgotten to tell him about? Sort of like the Sneakoscope Ron was supposed to give him next year. They all had ignored it, thinking it was broken, when in actuality, it was reacting to Pettigrew being nearby.
Diadem of Ravenclaw. Hogwarts. Being too long in the Come-and-Go room also gave him a mild scar headache that he had been ignoring. What if there was more to the room? Should he explore himself or talk some more to the elves. Didn't the elf Riki say there were cursed things in another room? Harry strained to remember what had been said. The Room of Hidden Things?
A visit to the kitchen as soon as they got back to school was in order. In the meantime, he had a dance to get ready for.
Oooooo vvvvvv oooooO
The movement at the top of the stairs drew him out of his contemplations.
Mrs. Granger, wearing a one-shade-darker-than-bright-red floor-length dress with a slit up her left side past her knee came down first. Her hair was an artful mass of curls. She was wearing a sparkling gold necklace and several gold bracelets and matching red high heels.
She walked up to Hector and carefully hugged him so as not to wrinkle her dress or smudge her make-up.
Harry never even looked at her. Hermione started down just as her mum reached the bottom. Her hair was tamed into an almost duplicate of her Mum's. The dark plum-coloured dress went to just below her knees with an open neckline and three-quarter-length sleeves. She was wearing both her silvery necklaces from Harry, a black and silver bracelet that matched her watchband and made it seem to be a bit of jewelry. Her low-heeled shoes were purple like her dress.
Although she wore it proudly, Harry could see his Christmas present necklace with its red and yellow stones did not match her dress. He had wanted to wait until later to give her his whole present, but it seemed later had arrived.
Ejecting his wand from his sleeve he walked up to her and copied the adult Grangers with a light hug. He then stepped back and laid the tip of his wand on the two Golden Beryls and with "Colora Royalum", the two yellow stones changed to a deep purple that matched her dress.
The three Grangers were all looking at Harry. The adults with a 'Hmm, more magic' look. Hermione with a 'We are going to talk about this later' look.
It only took a half hour to drive to the hall where they had no sooner checked their heavy winter coats than two couples swept in to claim the Granger's attention. Helen managed to get free long enough to tell Hermione their table number and told them to have a good time.
Hermione, having suffered through a couple of these events knew where the table should be and led him past it on the way to the food. Loading up at the buffet, they retreated to the table with a glass of sparkling grape juice each.
They had just finished when Hermione's parents and the other two couples showed up and claimed their spots at the table. The two youngsters stayed only long enough for politeness' sake, then Hermione led Harry off around the Hall.
She pointed out the children and teens area, the dance floor, and the balconies and lounges off the main hall where one could take a break from the crowd.
The band was just starting to tune up, so they tried a few balconies until they got too cold. They went to the 'young people's' area and Harry immediately understood Hermione's dislike of having to attend this function.
Hermione muttered quietly to him. "Most of these kids are just full of themselves. Showing off what their parent's money can buy for them. Malfoy would fit right in with this crowd."
Harry could see several of the group were giving Hermione the 'why is she here' look. And it was not just the males.
A trio of bottle blondes strolled over, running appraising eyes over Harry while dismissing Hermione.
Harry was looking at three girls all of twelve, maybe thirteen-years-old? Who were trying to look sixteen? They reminded him strongly of Lavender Brown trying to impress him a few weeks ago.
Short, sparkly dresses, heels, too much make-up, long painted nails, and trying to talk in what they thought were giggly, sexy voices. And the attitude that Harry should dump the bookworm and join them. They would be much more fun to hang out with.
Harry tuned them out quickly, and as soon as he heard the band start, he made some sketchy excuses and hauled Hermoine off to the dance floor.
With a starting four-beat song, Harry was able to start easier than the waltz and his lovely date for the evening followed suit.
After four songs, Harry headed back to the table. There when the noise of over a hundred people all trying to be heard over the others in the crowd was about to drive him crazy, he asked his curly-haired friend to head back to the dance floor.
That set the pattern for the night. A few dances, dodge the social climbing or insult-bearing idiots that neither wanted to dance with. They had plenty of breaks. During tango's, cha-cha's, and semi-inebriated conga line dances, they went back to the table until the crowd noise drove them away, then do a repeat.
Since Hermione had seemed to be having a good time at the annual dance this year, the Grangers stayed much later than usual. The young ones fell asleep in the car, leaning on each other, exhausted by the exercise of much dancing.
Helen called, and to her surprise succeeded at calling Ypres, to come help put the two wearied-to-the-bone kids to bed. She asked the elf to put Harry in the spare room for the night as she wanted him to be there for Hermione in the morning.
Even Harry's habit of waking early failed him Sunday morning. He finally shuffled his bleary-eyed zombie imitation downstairs to find two adult Grangers looking as though they had been run over by a bus.
Copious amounts of tea, and cheesy scrambled eggs on toast, seemed to be the easy, hardly any work needed, breakfast today.
Even Harry's short, almost inaudible, answers to how he was feeling and did he have a good time last night, were quietly accepted.
Harry was about to get up to leave the table when Hermione shuffled into the kitchen and plopped into a chair. She was freshly showered and her unruly hair was back to being the wild, untamed mane that Harry loved
She had taken two deep sips from her teacup before it registered that Harry was sitting at the table. Looking at her.
She froze. She was not quite sure what she looked like because she had deliberately avoided looking at mirrors after losing the battle with her hair. But she had wanted to talk to her mother about how magical the night had been.
She had danced the night away in the arms of her prince. And while he had been a perfect gentleman, she had many times that evening had thoughts about what it would be like if he wasn't. She knew she was crushing on Harry, but this was the first time that what she had been thinking about was not out of some fairy tale romance, so, she wanted to talk with her mother.
And there was her prince, glasses slightly askew, looking at her sitting there with her hair a total disaster, wearing tan fuzzy slippers and an old pink dressing gown. She instantly felt like running back upstairs or willing the floor to open and swallow her up.
Harry was about to get snarky when he thought, "She doesn't know it but until this summer, she's wearing better clothes than I ever had."
Saying the first thing that came to mind, he said, "Are your feet as sore and tired as mine? The only two people I would try to dance with today are the Queen and you."
Hector looked at him, Helen tried to be stone-faced but her eyes sparkled with mirth. His possible girlfriend/soul mate cycled between embarrassed and pleased at his flirting.
"You said the Queen first, Harry."
"Seniority," he shot back.
Huff.
"Why don't we recover this morning and I'll come back this afternoon. I want to find if Lupin could give us some lessons tomorrow, and I need to talk to Sirius. Suits?
Hermione quickly agreed. This would give her the rest of the morning to have that talk with her mother she was not eager to have but felt she needed to have.
He turned to Hector and asked, "Mr. Granger, I never asked, but did Lupin and Sirius ask you to come with us Tuesday? If not, I'm asking. I need all the help I can get."
"Of course I'll go with you, Harry. Your 'Uncles' already asked."
"Thank you," replied Harry. "Also, I need to talk to you about the investment my mother made with the precious metals in the safety deposit box in Manchester."
After thanking Hector. He called on Ypres and disappeared with a 'pop'.
Sunday and Monday were perfectly normal holidays away from school, although a bit tense at times. Sirius had returned to St. Mungo's late Sunday morning, but not before taking the mickey out of Harry for having been such a Lothario at the Longbottom Ball.
The Dailey Prophet had multiple pictures of Harry dancing with each of the girls he had partnered along with multiple speculations as to which of the girls was now leading in the running to be the next Lady Potter.
Harry refused to rise to Padfoot's baiting. Because it had been simplified for him. Somewhere out there he had a Soul Mate, and a long-buried and denied hope was starting to grow as to who.
Monday when they were done tutoring with Lupin and they were alone, she looked at Harry. "You're safe. The shock of this you being older thing has me wanting to get this just right. Because I'm afrai . . ."
She chopped off whatever she was going to say and immediately asked Ypres to take her home.
Harry was in no shape to meet with Lord Greengrass that afternoon, but it could not be put off any longer. Wearing good quality robes, he and Lupin floo'd from the Leaky Cauldron to Greengrass Fields, the estate of the Greengrass family.
After some polite pleasantries with the family which included the three women of the family whom Harry had met at the Longbottom's Ball. Harry was surprised as tea was served from an exquisite almost translucent, fragile-looking bone china set. The company from the Greengrass daughters was pleasant with Daphne looking and speaking in relaxed tones. Astoria, on the other hand, kept slipping into giggles occasionally.
Harry put it down to being young and enthralled to be meeting with the famous Boy-Who-Lived. Harry kept himself from getting upset by remembering she was only ten and he had been the one to invite her to dance.
The almost relaxed part of the visit came to an end when Lord Greengrass pulled his watch from a pocket in his robes. That was the signal for Lady Greengrass and Astoria to excuse themselves and leave.
Harry was doubly surprised. First, the meeting did not adjourn to the Lord's office, and Daphne, Heiress Greengrass, stayed. The talk started and remained limited to generalities as both sides were feeling each other out.
The only odd note occurred when he was leaving. Daphne said, "Any ideas on how my Housemates became paralyzed? I'm starting to adopt the belief that if there is trouble at the school, you are in the middle of it."
Harry avoided looking her in the eye before saying "No," and floo'ing away to the Leaky Cauldron.
Harry had trouble sleeping that night. He was afraid too. He was worried he had driven Hermione away because she thought of him as some monster.
Tuesday morning was crisp and sunny. The type of day everybody wishes winter had more days like.
Debarking The Tube near the building containing Hogham and Hemmish, the group of four were just early enough to grab a quick, nerve-settling, tea and scone from the same ground floor café. Both were better than last week.
Taking the lift up to the eleventh floor they once again entered the sumptuous office of the tax and investment solicitors, and told the receptionist they were there for an appointment with Mr. Carlisle Hamilton.
In less than five minutes, a brown-haired man, wearing wire-rim spectacles stepped out. He was a man of medium height and build, dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit. He greeted the Potter party with an outstretched hand.
When he got to the introduction of Harry, the man closely inspected him and muttered quietly to himself. "Black, unruly hair, eyes that match the woman I knew as Lily Potter. I think we might have a winner here."
"Gentlemen, please follow me to a conference room I have available."
With a brief stop for Hamilton to pick up a short stack of folders from an office, they entered a room with no windows, cloth-covered wall panels, and a small conference table with half a dozen chrome and black leather chairs around it.
A cold-water carafe, a heated teapot, and a coffee pot with glasses and cups were on a side table. Everyone grabbed a beverage and sat down.
Opening the lid on a small box he stabbed a finger down twice. Flipping down the lid he spoke, "Gentlemen, this room is now safe from any form of spying as technology can make it. No one can see or hear us speak."
And with those words he reached into his suitcoat and carefully, slowly drew a foot-long, medium brown wooden stick held by two fingers.
Wands instantly appeared in Sirius' and Lupin's hands, both aimed at the man all had assumed was a Mundane.
Slowly rising from their chairs, the pair kept their wands on the revealed wizard. No one spoke for a moment.
"Well?" growled out Lupin.
"I assume you want to know the backround story as how I came to know Lily Evans, and how I came to be the investments overseer for the money she invested on this side of the divide?"
That brought nods from the other four around the table. (Hector in particular. He was desperate to be able to explain to Helen one part of the ongoing story that was their daughter's best friend.
"You obviously know more about what is going on than any of us," Lupin added quelling Harry from speaking with a look as he was projecting acting responsibly as a guardian should.
"Yes, yes, I do," Hamilton responded, looking at Harry. "However, that is the way your mother set this up.
"I first met your mother when she was a third-year, and I was a fifth-year Hufflepuff. She found me in the library studying hard the day after OWL'S and was curious why I was still cracking books after exams.
I must have been a sleep-deprived idiot that morning as I told her the truth. I told her that I had found out The Truth last year. The Truth that as a muggleborn, no matter how brilliant, no matter how well I performed in school, no matter how many OWL's or NEWT's I gained, even with all O's, I was never going to rise above a junior clerk at the Ministry."
Hamilton took a calming breath. "Even if I was hired by a wizarding business', if a Pureblood came along who wanted my job, the owner would have to get rid of me and give him the job.
Why you ask? Because even if he wanted to keep me, the other Purebloods would see he wasn't playing the game by their rules, and would band together to boycott buying from his business and/or refuse to sell him supplies or materials."
Giving a world-weary shrug, he continued, "And if this owner survived all that, people like Malfoy would call him in to talk about his selling them his business or the judges would certainly see his business was violating several patents that prominent, well-respected wizarding houses held. If that threat didn't work, they would convince the Wizengamot into changing the laws to make his business illegal."
"It was a losing game to stay in Hogwarts," I ranted to her.
"I shouldn't have taken my troubles out on her. But I was exhausted from my OWL's and feeling frustrated that I was years behind in my muggle peers' education at that point."
"Instead of being horrified by me, or angry at me, she looked at me for a moment, then asked me what I was going to do about it. I remember gesturing to the books and notes I had scattered on the table and said, "I'm going to take the minimum NEWT classes and spend every spare moment trying to catch up to what my secondary school would have taught me."
"She nodded and walked away. She found me a day later and asked how would I qualify to take my GCSE tests late. I told her I could take them over the summer claiming homeschooling and illness at the usual testing time. I was lucky. My Mum had been a teacher before she married Father. She taught me grammar and sentence structure before Hogwarts and helped me during school there."
"To shorten the story, Lily studied a lot with me during the next two years and we stayed in touch the two years after that."
The now-revealed wizard looked directly at Harry. "She spent the first three years studying hard, and passed several GCSE tests. Her last year, I think between her Head Girl duties and her growing involvement with your father she slacked off. She was just too busy keeping up with the magical world that year."
"In the meantime, I passed my GCSE's then my "A" Level exams and gained entrance to the London School of Economics. I'm not sure I could have achieved it all, but my father is a barrister over in Lincolnshire." He gave a wry grin. "Insider edge due to family."
"I had just written my solicitor tests and was working at a paid internship here at 'H and H' when Lily showed up with a Letter of Credit from the Western Oriental Commercial and Mercantile Bank and a contract."
Harry was the only one of the four that did not flinch and look surprised by that name.
"The Letter of Credit was large enough to gain the interest of 'H and H' and when she told the senior officers that I was to be the one to oversee those that would manage her accounts or she would go elsewhere, they decided to go along with her and, surprising to me, they signed her contract."
Hamilton stopped for a moment and took several sips of water. "The contract is fairly straight forward in that I had to obtain a Certified Public Accountant rating to go with my Tax Solicitor specialization. I also pick the companies that do your account audits."
"However, gentlemen, the most important of my duties as specified by Lily Evans Potter is to identify her son. The true Harald James Potter."
Hamilton opened one of the files in front of him. "Harry, or Harald, please take off your shoes and socks."
A/N:
Dear Lord, the 'net sucketh for the 30 years old inheritance and tax information I wanted to obtain. Especially since the best wifi I've had for over a month was 'drop the signal every 15 minutes' 2G. Along with 'no data at this time' as the 5G phone signal died to 4G or often less.
I'm American. I'm hoping the Brit pickers will be kind. I did try.