The next morning, just after dawn, Harry stirred awake at the soft flutter of Hedwig's return. It had been his third consecutive night of uninterrupted sleep, and Harry felt amazing. He yawned, stretched, pivoted to the edge of the bed, and considered his surroundings.

It was almost too much. His four-poster was covered in down pillows, soft sheets and warm blankets. His wardrobe was full of new clothing that fit perfectly. He discovered yesterday evening that the Hogwarts house elves had made his bed, laundered every item he'd worn the day before. He reflected on the broad writing desk beside his bed, the reading nook at the center of the room. A small pile of books from the Potter library that had captured his interest. He considered gratefully the stunning shift in his fortune.

Harry stood, stretched, and cleared the distance to Hedwig's perch. "Hello, Hedwig. Successful hunt?" He nuzzled her affectionately, shifted his gaze to the sun slowly rising over Little Whinging. He took a long, deep breath, and headed to the shower.

After a quick wash, Harry dressed, brushed his teeth, and headed down the stairs. As he turned to check on the brewingIntelligentia Concentrata, he noticed that the house elves had returned the lab to pristine condition — every ingredient nicely sorted, and every surface spotless. Just then he recalled a series of decisions he'd made the night before. He smiled.

"Dobby?"

The room echoed with the sound of a loud whip-crack, followed immediately by a shrill squeal of unadulterated glee. "Harry Potter! Such an honor it is! Dobby is your humble servant."

He was wearing two mismatched woolen socks, bundled loosely around his legs, a pair of plaid shorts, a charcoal grey child's tuxedo vest, and a burnt orange scarf. He lowered himself in a deeply reverential bow.

Harry smiled with affectionate eyes. "Good morning, Dobby. How are you?"

He erupted in beaming joy. "Oh, how kind you are, Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is very well, especially since Headmaster Dumbledore informed Dobby of such a tremendous opportunity to serve the house of Harry Potter. Dobby will always be a free elf, Harry Potter, but now Dobby is your free elf." He raised his chin proudly.

"That's actually why I wanted to speak with you." Harry led Dobby to the living room, sat in one of the wingbacks, leaning forward. Dobby's eyes set unwaveringly on Harry's.

"I'd like to ask something of you." He paused, hesitated, and then continued with purpose. "You aren't going to like it, but I'll need you to agree beforehand and I promise it won't hurt or shame you in any way."

Dobby faltered, thought for a moment, turned his eyes determinedly back to Harry's. "Dobby…" his chest puffed, "Dobby trusts Harry Potter, and he'll do anything he asks."

Harry smiled with kind eyes. "Good! I have two tasks for you to accomplish, as soon as you possibly can. First, I want you to set an appointment at Madam Malkin's."

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Is this appointment for you, Harry Potter?"

Harry shook his head playfully. "No, Dobby. It's for you. I'd like you to ask Madam Malkin to tailor seven three-piece suits that fit you perfectly, in any color you prefer, or any variety of colors you prefer. Tell her to charge these to the Potter account at Gringotts."

Dobby's lip trembled. "Harry Potter, sir! Dear Harry Potter is to give Dobby clothes — clothes that fit Dobby nicely! Oh, it is too much! I cannot —"

Harry furrowed his brow in a playfully stern disposition. "Now Dobby, you promised me you'd do what I asked."

Dobby bowed his head in tearful submission. "Dobby shall never forget the generosity of Harry Potter."

Harry smiled broadly. "Now for the second task. Professor Dumbledore tells me that I've inherited a sizable fortune, managed directly by a goblin steward in my name. I'd like you to go to Gringotts and speak directly with my steward. Ask him to reference house records for the salary of my grandfather's chief of staff. Then, by my authority, ask him to issue funds equal to that salary in monthly installments to a new account in your name. That shall be your salary, Dobby, for the assistance you've offered, as long as you're willing to serve my house."

Dobby was struck silent for nearly twenty seconds, his broad eyes welling with tears. He hiccuped the words,"No, Harry Potter, sir. It isn't necessary. Dobby has enough — Dobby couldn't for a moment rob the vaults of Harry —"

Again, Harry interrupted him, feigning a stern, furrowed brow. "You are, Dobby, my friend. You've set aside everything to serve me, to protect and preserve my house, to come at my beckon call at any hour. And you are a free elf. I will not allow you to serve the House of Potter without compensation equal to your worth." He paused, smiled affectionately. "And remember Dobby, you promised."

At this, Dobby bowed lower than Harry had yet seen. "Great, he is…" he said, almost in a whisper, "...and good." And at that, a loud crack echoed through the house.


Harry arrived beside the ancient ash, holding a rusty tin can with a string of loose thread hanging from one end.

"Good morning, Harry Potter." Her voice came from above him, and he looked up to see Luna Lovegood nimbly descending from limb to limb until she landed softly before him.

She was wearing a dark pair of blue jeans and a crimson red tee. Her hair was up loosely in a twist, and she was barefoot. For a moment she just stood there, her shoulders shrugged cutely with her fingers loosely tucked in her back pockets, surveying him with flirtatious eyes. She bit her lip, expression shifting to a joyful smile. She cleared the distance between them and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Have you had breakfast?"


As they prepared porridge with fresh berries, Harry reflected on his conversation with Dobby.

"He can be a bit much sometimes, but he seems genuinely excited to be a part of my home. I've actually been thinking how he might genuinely help in our efforts." Harry said, speculative.

Luna smiled broadly. "He seems lovely. And I'm so grateful that you're taking care of him. The Lovegood House has never had a house elf. We've fundamentally fought the notion of slavery almost since the beginning. But freeing a house elf without affording them an opportunity to earn a living seems like damning them to a different sort of slavery."

She paused for a moment, and just then her eyes went wide. "It just occurred to me, Harry Potter, that scholars within ancient houses sometimes leverage their staff of house elves for research purposes. I wonder whether Dobby might help us find answers to questions when they arise? Perhaps search for potions ingredients or lost texts that we've found reference to?"

Harry considered. "You know, that isn't a bad idea. I'll ask him about it this afternoon. I'll need to check on the potion around three. Would you like to come with me?"

Luna playfully feigned a furrowed brow. "You meanourpotion? Yes, I'd like to oversee the next phase ofourpotion."

Harry laughed, held up his hands in mock surrender. "Forgive me."


They decided to spend their morning in the Defense chambers. Harry had stumbled upon a threadbare, cloth-bound volume shelved high in the Potter Library, entitled Ancient, Rare and Powerful Spells. The front matter indicated it was a limited publication, funded by Gideon J. Potter, apparently Harry's great-great grandfather, in 1912.

Harry immediately realized that he'd not encountered any of these spells in his studies at Hogwarts. The book sorted the spells into broad categories, like Offense, Defense, and Utility, and detailed the pronunciation, execution, and effects of each, as well as some historical context of its creation when available. He couldn't wait to show Luna.

They decided to take turns attempting to cast each spell, while the other took notes. Luna sat leaning against the far wall on the floor, facing Harry who stood in the center of the room. She conjured her sketchbook and charcoal pencil, looked into Harry's eyes, and smirked.

"You've nothing to worry about, Harry Potter. This room is warded against nargles."

He smiled, opened the book, and turned to the first chapter.


—Chapter One—

Ancient, Rare, and PowerfulOffensiveSpells

decidere (deh-kee-DEH-reh) wand arm outstretched at waist height, wave at half speed to the opposite waist, center wand arm at penultimate syllable, rapidly lift wand arm to shoulder height, finishing pronunciation with wand pointed directly at opponent.

Effect: The spell shifts the target's center of gravity to the nearest heavy object. When executed properly by a powerful witch or wizard, the shift may be rapid enough to physically stun opponent on impact


The first nine attempts yielded nothing. Luna watched carefully, noticed that Harry's wand arm wasn't fully extended, then coached him verbally on the half-speed movement from waist to waist. Four attempts later, the suit of arms shuttered visibly (they both shouted with glee at this). Finally, on his eighteenth attempt, after Luna noticed he was terminating the pronunciation of the curse prematurely, Harry executed a perfect dicedere. The suit of arms slammed violently into the wall to his right, crushing the left arm under the force of the spell.

They were struck silent at the powerful display. After a moment, the suit of arms was magically restored, and Harry's expression shifted to an awestruck smile.

"This is so cool."

Harry turned to Luna, cleared the distance between them, helped her up and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Your turn, Luna Lovegood."

She got it in two tries, the full left side of the armor crushed completely in a raw display of sweeping power. Harry's jaw dropped, impressed and more than a little embarrassed. Feigning offense, he shouted, "Just you remember I survived a dragon."

She turned, smirked flirtatiously, stepped toward him in a sexy, confident glide. She bent over full, kissed him on the nose, and whispered, "Beginner's luck, dragon-slayer."


tenebrae totales (teh-NEH-brae toh-TAH-lehs) wand arm relaxed at the waist, twist wrist at first syllable, draw wand arm to opposite side at chest height by pronunciation of third syllable. Draw wand to center, twisting wrist to point wand directly above target, outstretch arm at final syllable.

Effect: The spell covers the target in impenetrable darkness. Executed perfectly by a powerful wizard, the field of darkness may spread thirty meters on every side.


The trick of it, as Harry discovered after a few dozen attempts, was the relaxed hold of his wand and the timing of the twists of his wrist. Around twenty minutes after his first attempt, he successfully cast a field of impenetrable darkness, surrounding the suit of armor wall-to-wall. Luna set down her sketchbook, stepped into the thick cloud.

"It's true, Harry Potter. I can see nothing at all." She emerged a moment later, bit her lip. "What a tremendously useful spell."

Just then, she raised her wand and, on her first attempt, cast a perfecttenebrae totaleson Harry.

All the light in the world left him immediately. He was lost in it, utter darkness, without any sense of direction or his surroundings. He laughed at the brilliance of the spell and the genius of the witch who cast it. And just then, without warning, her lips met his in the darkness. He didn't see anything, but he felt everything.

He stood motionless as he felt her body glide softly into him. He felt her breasts, firm and full, press against his chest. He opened his mouth in a longing sigh, felt her tongue flit playfully against his lips. He felt her heated breath. He felt her body move, felt her palm explore his chest in shifting pressures. He felt her arm wrap around him, up his back, her fingertips lightly scratching the back of his neck, running through his hair.

She kissed him, slowly and carefully, shifting her body here and there. He stirred, his pulse ever quickening. She pulled him closer, pressed her body full against his, kissed his neck again and again, and he was hard against her. He felt her involuntary gasp. His pressing tension sensed every movement with radiating pleasure.

She paused, pulled away, slowly exhaled. "Harry…" She whispered, longing.

And then she was gone.