Part 6: Pronglet's First Quidditch World Cup (The 'Don't-Let-the-Death-Eaters-Ruin-It' Prank)
August 20 th 1994
Hermione hovered nervously next to her parents as they dusted off their clothing in the Black reception room. The entire immediate House of Black was in attendance because of the arrival of Simeon Black and his family – his wife, Anna, and his baby son, Jason. The Regent Apparent for the House of Black had arrived earlier that day from Australia and everyone was gathered to meet and get to know him.
Penelope smiled at Hermione and ushered them out and down the corridor to the large Summer room. The furniture had been mostly cleared out although there were a few seating areas discreetly laid out. A table with drinks and nibbles took up the back wall but the French doors had been opened up, leaving the garden accessible as it was a lovely sunny day.
Hermione could see Andromeda and Narcissa on the lawn talking with a woman with blonde hair and cooing over the baby she held. Further into the garden she spotted Lucius talking with Professor McGonagall; Remus stood under a tree chatting to Ted. She grimaced as she scanned the room quickly and found Draco tucked into a corner, sitting on a sofa and glowering as Tonks chattered on about something to him.
Poor Tonks, thought Hermione. It looked like the young Auror had drawn the short straw and been told to look after Draco. She was vaguely aware that Andromeda and her family had been meeting with Narcissa and Draco since the last family meeting in July as a way to get him acclimated with interacting politely with people he would normally simply sneer at as he adjusted to the new world order.
In some ways she felt sorry for Draco; he'd essentially gone from believing he and his father were at the top of the food chain only to realise someone else occupied the position and would be quite happy to eliminate him if he so much as looked at someone the wrong way. But she couldn't deny that a large part of her was gleefully smug at him getting his karmic comeuppance for being such a bigoted prat. Unfortunately, she also knew that Narcissa had spent the Summer teaching him to hide his prejudice better not that he shouldn't be prejudiced.
She straightened as she realised that she had missed her parents greeting Sirius and Harry who stood by the door in a somewhat informal receiving line along with another man who looked very much like Sirius; black hair, blue eyes instead of grey, but the same haughty classical handsome looks that defined the Blacks.
"…and this is Hermione." Sirius declared, nudging her forward towards the stranger. "Hermione, Simeon Black."
Hermione curtseyed as Andy had instructed her, letting her head bow forward just a touch but not fully. "Senior Auror Black."
"Simeon, please." Simeon said with an easy grin, the faint hint of France in his Australian accent. "It is a delight to meet you and your parents, Hermione. I believe my Uncle Alphard would have given his wand arm to have met you; the first muggleborn daughter of the House of Black."
Sirius snorted. "We're lucky to have her and we have two now since your wife was inducted earlier." He winked at Hermione and nodded at Harry. "Why don't you kids catch-up now all the introductions are done?"
Harry grinned at him, shot Simeon a shy smile, and Hermione marvelled at the changes that had been wrought in her friend over the course of the Summer.
Harry looked better, for one thing; healthier – his skin glowed, his dark hair shone, his green eyes were bright and he looked a healthy weight. But he also looked cared for with his clothes good quality, clean and well-fitted; his glasses new and fashionable. He no longer looked unkempt. More importantly, he also looked happy; brilliantly happy and content in a way that Hermione had never seen in the three years of their friendship.
She'd had her doubts about Sirius's ability to take care of Harry despite the fact that she'd gently hinted to Amelia Bones in her interview at the start of the Summer that Harry would be better away from the Dursleys. After all Sirius was a stranger and what did they know about him beyond his innocence and that he was Harry's godfather? But Sirius had risen to the occasion. It was clear to everyone he loved Harry and would do anything to protect him.
Perhaps though, Hermione considered, as Harry walked her over to the refreshments as she began outwardly quizzing him on their Transfiguration homework, it was the other change in Harry that had Hermione flustered; his sudden appreciation for studying.
It wasn't as though she didn't know Harry was intelligent – he was very bright – but in their previous three years at Hogwarts, he had only displayed that when he had absolutely needed to and the rest of the time seemed content to fade into the background. As someone who loved studying and who couldn't resist showing how much knowledge she had, (a bad habit of her own, she knew – her own parents had remonstrated with her about showing off and intellectual arrogance), she couldn't understand it.
Well, she could when she thought about the additional attention Harry would garner from being smart and intelligent and top of the class.
She sighed inwardly. If she had learned one thing as the friend of Harry Potter it was that the wizarding world felt it had every right to know everything about him and had no compunction about highlighting the least little thing – not always in a positive way. At least Sirius was now controlling the press to some extent and tackling the awful fictional books that had been written about Harry's young life. And it seemed with that security and Sirius's encouragement for Harry to make the most of his studies, Harry had let go of whatever it was that was holding him back intellectually.
She felt a flutter of nervousness.
Hermione couldn't deny that she was maybe a little worried. Harry's knowledge of Runes was as good as her own and when he'd demonstrated the boost to his magic to her one day showing her some of the non-verbal transfiguration he'd done, she'd known he'd surpassed her in her favourite subject. She wanted to dismiss it as simply being down to his powerful magic but she'd known he couldn't do such a transfiguration if he hadn't understood the wand movements and theory behind it either.
He was good at debating too. He preferred to sit back and let her, Ron and Neville have their say first but when he entered the debate, they all listened; he just had a way about him. She was beginning to wonder whether he would need her help studying anymore; whether he would need her friendship anymore.
Which was silly, Hermione acknowledged as she listened to Harry talking about the Laws of Transfiguration and why he thought it should be possible to transfigure something living out of something non-living.
Harry wasn't her friend just because she'd helped him with his homework and contributed to solving some of his more adventurous problems. But she couldn't help remembering how Ron and he hadn't talked to her for weeks after the Firebolt incident. The initial falling out had largely been her own fault. She had gone behind Harry's back; if she'd talked with him…
But the length of time that they had taken to reconcile and her increasing depression at their failure to forgive her had been the fault of the boys. It had taken far longer than she had anticipated (and indeed calculated when she had weighed up her decision to take the broom situation to their Head of House). As Harry usually didn't hold grudges (besides Professor Snape who regularly tested her own deep-seated belief that all teachers deserved respect and Draco Malfoy who was a prat of the first order), she blamed Ron who had also been waging war at her over Crookshanks and Scabbers.
Her friendship with Ron was a completely different animal to her friendship with Harry. She doubted that without Harry, she and Ron would ever have been friends. It had been because of Harry that both boys had arrived at the bathroom in time to rescue her from the troll – the incident that had effectively begun the trio's friendship. Ron had disliked her intelligence and thought she was a bossy know-it-all and she hadn't been that enamoured of him either. But the day after the troll, when Harry had excused himself for the bathroom, Ron had quietly apologised for insulting and upsetting her, and offered her a slightly battered chocolate frog he'd been saving. Hermione had been touched at the gesture and sacrifice (because she knew how Ron loved his sweets) and accepted. Since then, their friendship had been a mix of the tension that had characterised their relationship before the troll (in other words, sniping at each other) and after (namely, something rather sweet and affectionate).
By comparison, her friendship with Harry had none of the volatility of her friendship with Ron. It was much more straightforward; they each accepted the other despite the irritation of their various flaws (Hermione knew she drove him round the bend with her attitude on studying and her bossiness at times whereas his ability to outright ignore authority and be stubborn drove her nuts) and treasured the friendship between them. She had a poster in her muggle bedroom that stated 'friends are people who know your flaws and love you anyway' and she thought it summed up her friendship with Harry perfectly. Perhaps, Hermione considered as Harry led her, drinks in hand, out to the garden to meet Simeon's wife and son, it was because neither she nor Harry had experienced friendship before Hogwarts (one of the few things Harry had let slip about his life with the Dursleys). They both appreciated their friendship more because of that.
And that was why she had been so hurt by his and Ron's refusal to speak with her. She had forgiven them both – partially because they'd been truly repentant, partially because she'd been truly repentant, and mostly because she'd missed them. But the whole incident had prompted Hermione to think about her friendships once the school year was over, and she thought it had maybe prompted Harry into thinking about his friendships too.
Since the beginning of the Summer and his return from the healing clinic, they'd grown closer. Some of it, Hermione believed, was her inclusion in the House of Black, but most of it seemed down to Harry's own decision to cultivate a closer relationship with her. He'd written to her (and OK, Ron too) in a journal which she had read cover to cover and more than once; he'd changed to Runes and dropped Divination and they were now studying together for the opportunity to skip a year; he'd asked Sirius if Hermione could join him for his Potions and his politics lessons without her reminding him; he'd let her hold his hand and comfort him in the Chamber of Secrets.
And she was warmed by his actions. She knew Ron held a special place in Harry's world because Ron had been his first friend of his own age but now she felt she occupied something of a special position too beyond his first female friend – a more equal position, and it reassured her to some degree that Harry wouldn't just take Ron's side in future. She wasn't certain that had been Harry's intent but it was the result.
Interestingly, Harry had also seemed to make the same decision as she had about making more friends. Losing Harry's and Ron's company had made Hermione realise just how isolated the trio was – how isolated she was. Neville had been quite sweet to her – if he saw her in the Gryffindor Common Room he'd sit and chat with her if Ron and Harry weren't around. She'd also taken some solace in her Arithmancy study group which included Padma Patil and Lisa Turpin but they only met twice a week and truthfully, they focused more on studying than getting to know each other. No, she had decided early on in the Summer that she needed to make some additional friends outside of Harry and Ron. Luckily, Harry seemed to have come to the same conclusion and the Summer's activities had been great at building some decent nascent friendships with Susan, Hannah and Neville.
She had also tried to build something of a friendship with Ginny, prompted by an end of term conversation…
She sighed heavily and lowered her hairbrush, giving up on taming her hair, and turning away only to bump into Ginny who she hadn't noticed was hovering by her bed. "Sorry, Ginny. Did you want something?"
"I was hoping to talk with you." Ginny admitted, her hands twisting together. She looked around the empty dorm room and back to Hermione with hopeful eyes.
Hermione gestured at her bed and they both sat down.
"So what's this about?" asked Hermione briskly.
"Well, it's…it's about Harry…do you…" Ginny hesitated, looking around at the empty room again, before she took hold of her Gryffindor courage and ploughed ahead, "what do you think Harry thinks of me, I mean, as a friend?" She blushed bright red.
Pity stirred in her at Ginny's question. "I think Harry probably thinks of you as Ron's little sister," the same as she did, "rather than as a personal friend, Ginny." She said bluntly.
Ginny slumped and she folded her arms; a picture of dejected misery.
Hermione sighed. "Look, Ginny, if you're serious about being Harry's friend, then you need to get him to see beyond the 'Ron's little sister' tag and see you as your own person." Just as Ginny needed to see beyond Harry's 'Boy Who Lived' status and see Harry as a person. "You have to make an effort to be his friend rather than someone who sits with her brother and his best friends occasionally. Talk to him. Get to know him."
"I just never know what to talk about." Ginny admitted, looking down at her feet.
"Well, what do you like that Harry likes?" Hermione asked.
Ginny's expression cleared and she smiled brightly. "Quidditch." Her face fell again. "Not that my brothers and Mum let me play that much."
"It's a start." Hermione pointed out. She gentled her tone. "I know Harry appreciates friends so I'm sure he'd appreciate a genuine effort." And not as she suspected an attempt to get closer to the Boy Who Lived. "Just talk to him, strike up a conversation."
Ginny nodded slowly. "I just…it's hard for me to talk to him because…"
"Because he's the Boy Who Lived?" Hermione said scathingly.
"You weren't raised in the wizarding world, Hermione," Ginny said defensively, "you don't know what it's like! I was raised on stories about Harry! And I know they're fiction but it's hard not to think of him as a knight in shining armour especially when…well…"
"He's actually been your knight in shining armour." Hermione concluded with a heavy sigh. "Look, I understand that…" she held up a hand when Ginny started to get defensive, "troll, remember? He's saved me too. But Harry hates the Boy Who Lived stuff and you'd be better forgetting all about it and trying to get to know the real Harry." She paused to let her words sink in. "And you have to remember, Harry doesn't see himself as a knight in shining armour and he doesn't think that he's going to end up marrying the girls he saves – Merlin! Harry's more interested in Quidditch than girls." She'd thought she'd drive the point home. "Boys take a lot more time to mature than girls."
"But Fred said he and George started dating in their third year and so did Percy! Bill got caught in a broom closet when he was in fourth year." Ginny argued.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Maybe your brothers were ready for girls in third and fourth year but that doesn't mean Harry is or will be! Maybe Harry will want a girlfriend next year, maybe he will start dating someone but…" she motioned absently with the brush she still held, "I can guarantee that he won't look twice at someone who sees him as the Boy Who Lived!"
Ginny's expression turned to contemplation. "So he's more likely to ask someone out if they're his friend first."
"Genuinely his friend," remonstrated Hermione gently, "but, yes."
"Will you help me?" asked Ginny suddenly, shifting position to look at Hermione with a determined expression.
The request took her aback but she caved with one glance at Ginny's hopeful eyes. "I'll help you become friends, Ginny." Hermione agreed. "But really you're the one who has to make the effort to talk with him."
Of course, Hermione had talked with Harry about Ginny, and Harry seemed OK with the idea of being friends with her, but Ginny seemed to still have the same problem about talking with Harry that she'd always had. It seemed like Ginny couldn't get over her crush and her blushing and stammering made Harry feel uncomfortable so he rarely talked with her for long. Still, at the last dinner with the Weasleys they'd attended together, Harry had commiserated with Ginny over the pain of using Skele-gro and Ginny had managed five minutes without clumsily upending her dinner by being in his presence, so maybe things were progressing towards a friendship (and Hermione was pleased about that, she was). She believed Ginny would always want more than that though.
Hermione dragged herself away from her thoughts long enough to shake hands with Anna, Simeon's wife, and say hello to the baby. She happily chatted about their different muggleborn experiences until Anna began questioning Harry about the Wizengamot. She stood back and let her thoughts drift again.
Truthfully, Hermione was aware that she'd had a similar problem to Ginny – Harry saving her from a troll might have engendered a small, miniscule, tiny crush – but she'd been more fortunate that Harry had been completely clueless and she'd been able to act normally around him for the most part and build a friendship with him. And at the beginning of the Summer she truly hadn't thought of Harry as boyfriend material for herself when her parents had teased her.
Three years of friendship with Harry (and the rift over the Firebolt) had made that the most precious thing in her life; she didn't want to lose it over fanciful romantic notions that she was sure Harry would never return. Hermione wasn't unaware that objectively there were prettier girls than her in Hogwarts and she had believed Harry was more likely to fall for a pretty girl than a smart girl thanks to the pressure on Harry to conform to expectations for the Boy Who Lived. Not to mention her unswerving belief that Harry wasn't thinking about girlfriends yet – something their conversation at the first barbeque of the Summer had upheld to some extent.
Hermione had in contemplating her own romantic readiness determined that she was ready and she secretly wanted to have a boyfriend who would pay her compliments and hold her hand and maybe share a kiss or two. She also thought it unlikely that anyone would want to date her, (she knew the common mythology was that boys didn't go for smart girls), but she hoped, hoped that someone would.
Of course, she had intellectually considered Ron and Harry as possible boyfriends because they were close friends and therefore safe. But she had also dismissed them because her objective review of them as possible suitors hadn't been a positive one; Ron was a lazy student who shared very little in common with her although he had a kind heart, and Harry was smart and sweet but he was also unlikely to look at her that way, and although they did have more in common (muggle raised and only children), their interests were different. No, a different boy to be a boyfriend should one come along was the way to go. However, things had changed since she had made her decision at the beginning of the Summer.
Harry had changed.
And so had Hermione.
Hermione was now a daughter of the House of Black and it had given her a sense of security and belonging in the wizarding world that she hadn't felt before as a muggleborn. That security had allowed her to ease off her own determination to know everything she could about everything she could. She enjoyed politics but her favourite lessons had been the cultural outings – getting to know the heritage of the world she'd found herself in.
Not only that, but her Mum and Dad regularly visited the wizarding world in a way that would have been unthinkable before. She had gotten up late one day to find Andy in the kitchen with her Mum gossiping away with biscuits and tea. Her Dad had attended the Duelling finals as Sirius's guest and he'd been golfing with her Dad. Hermione was so immensely grateful that her relationship with her parents – a relationship that had been drifting slowly apart – had mended itself back into the strong unit of her childhood.
She had a plan now for what she wanted to do: she wanted to be a Healer and combine muggle and magical medicine. She planned to build a medical research laboratory that would work on cures for rare magical illnesses such as lycanthropy and Neville's parents' condition, and some muggle – she wanted to cure cancer! She knew it would be hard work – she'd have to catch up her muggle education and do a medical degree as well as train for her Healer Mastery but she was convinced she could do it. And she would have the backing of the House of Potter, the House of Black and the House of Longbottom.
It all led to a more confident and more settled Hermione – one whose best friend Harry was also more confident and settled himself. He had matured over the Summer with the advent of his House responsibilities, the additional time he had spent in the Valley clinic and the healing he had received. He had become a Harry who Hermione could wistfully see would make a great boyfriend.
And he had been so very attentive to her. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
It was all leading her thoughts in dangerous directions, Hermione told herself briskly as baby Jason crawled across the grass to Harry. Harry absently handed her his glass and she took it so he could stoop down and pick up the wriggling infant patting his feet. Jason made a grab for Harry's gold-framed glasses.
"Seeker," declared Harry as he avoided the grab with the skills of one. His hand caught Jason's fist and he calmly adjusted his hold.
"Glad to see you're training your replacement already, Harry." Professor McGonagall said dryly as she joined them.
Harry grinned at her. "You know that's not a bad idea. Ron's always going on about how the professional teams have reserves."
Professor McGonagall hummed but Hermione could see the idea ticking over in her head.
"You seem very practiced there with a baby, Harry." Tonks said as she arrived to join the group. "Is there anything you want to tell us?" She teased.
"Only that a couple of the neighbours used to bring over their babies for the coffee morning gossip sessions." Harry explained, jiggling the baby. "My Aunt always had me baby-sit them so she and the others could enjoy a baby-free environment." He rolled his eyes expressively.
"Where's Draco?" asked Narcissa worriedly, looking around the garden.
Tonks gestured towards the house where Draco could be seen talking with his father, Simeon and Sirius by the door. "Uncle Lucy collected him for a man-talk."
"Nymphadora," Andy said briskly although Narcissa looked amused rather than angry, "try to be respectful."
Harry concentrated on the baby but Hermione could see his smirk. He pulled a face and made Jason gurgle with delight. Hermione could see how the amusement faded from Harry's face to be replaced by something sad and contemplative.
And suddenly, time seemed to slow down as a gold and silver mist appeared from nowhere, rushing around the assembly of women, Harry and the baby…
The family totems formed either side of Harry.
Each woman reached out and placed a hand on Harry. Hermione watched as her own glass fell from her hand and bounced across the grass as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
Anna was the only exception; instead of touching Harry she delicately bit the thumb of her free hand and drew the protective rune they had used in the blessing ritual across her son Jason's forehead in blood without saying a word, her expression dazed.
The snake hissed something at Harry who nodded shakily and in the next moment, the totems dissolved into the mist, swirling around the assembly briefly before disappearing again.
Hermione gasped as she came back to herself.
Anna shook her head and reached anxiously for her child, shooting Harry a suspicious look. "What just happened?"
"Good question!" panted Sirius as he ran up. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder as Harry handed the baby over. "Everyone alright?"
Hermione nodded quickly along with everyone else.
"Harry, what happened?" prompted Sirius when he remained silent.
Harry sighed with a chagrined look at Jason. "I was just thinking about…" his eyes flickered to the Malfoys lurking just behind Simeon, who had placed a comforting arm around his wife, "about the blessing ritual we did."
Hermione got the message immediately and she could see Sirius knew exactly what Harry was referring to as well; Lily's protection that kept Harry safe.
"I was thinking I wasn't much older than Jason when…" Harry's eyes grew pained and Hermione's own heart clenched painfully in her chest, "you know, and I was thinking it was a shame that I couldn't extend the blessing to Jason especially as he's in the line of succession for the Black Lordship if something happens to us both so…"
"So the family magic jumped to do your bidding." Sirius completed, amused.
Harry nodded and glanced apologetically at Anna. "I'm sorry if it scared you but the blessing ritual we did for me now extends to Jason. The House totem confirmed it."
Sirius held up a hand as Simeon went to ask a question. "I'll explain later, Simeon, but suffice to say, your little critter is now blessed under the protection of the family magics in a very special way."
"This family magic stuff is very unnerving," Anna said her accent strident in her distress, "it felt like I wasn't in control."
"I'm really very sorry," Harry apologised again, "it recognises you as a daughter of the House after the oaths this morning and…" he motioned vaguely with his hand, "apparently it can direct those under oath?" He looked over at Sirius questioningly; it was Remus who answered.
"There are some stories about family magics taking control of those under oath if there was a compelling reason to do so – usually for protective purposes." Remus motioned at Jason who was grasping his mother's necklace and attempting to suck on it. "It would seem the family magics deemed your desire to protect Jason as falling under that premise."
"No harm, no foul." Simeon said before Anna could reply. "I look forward to hearing exactly what this blessing means." He added, glancing at Sirius before turning back to his wife. "We should probably get this one cleaned up and settled so we can enjoy dinner."
Anna nodded and they walked away back to the house. The adults all dispersed leaving Hermione and Harry alone with Draco.
"I guess family meetings will never be boring with you around, Potter." Draco sneered, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his robes.
Harry stiffened. "It's not like I plan it, Malfoy."
"You never do." Draco sniffed haughtily.
"We're supposed to be civil towards each other, Malfoy." Hermione reminded him tartly. "Or have you forgotten already?"
He glared at Hermione and she glared right back at him.
Draco rounded on Harry. "I see you've already run and told your little entourage secret family business."
Harry drew himself up smartly. "I haven't said anything, Malfoy. What was agreed between your family and Lord Black has remained secret but Hermione is intelligent to work it out for herself that we supposed to have a civil relationship when dealing with each other."
Hermione wondered, not for the first time, exactly what had happened when Sirius had faced off with the Malfoys.
"So you say." Draco said although he seemed a tad more subdued.
"Look, between the Quidditch World Cup and the family stuff, we're going to be seeing a lot of each other over the next week and then there's Hogwarts. We have to get along so why don't we agree a truce?" Harry thrust his hand out.
Draco looked at it blankly for a long moment but slowly he withdrew one hand from a pocket and shook it quickly with only a faint air of disgust evident in his pointed features. They both dropped their hands quickly.
"Harry!" Remus called out from the open door and Harry sighed.
"I should go see what that's about." Harry looked at Hermione uncertainly and the brief flicker of his eyes to Draco gave away his discomfort at leaving her alone with their Slytherin nemesis.
"Don't worry, Harry, I'll be fine." Hermione assured him, despite an internal tug of doubt.
Harry nodded slowly. "Malfoy." His parting word was a warning to behave and Hermione felt a flush of pleasure at Harry's protectiveness.
Draco sneered at Harry's back.
"He was telling the truth you know," Hermione said casually, "he really hasn't told us anything."
"He hasn't even told the Wea…I mean, Weasley?" Draco said sceptically, one pale blond eyebrow arching.
"No, he hasn't." Hermione said sharply. "Harry takes the House business very seriously."
Draco gave a snort. "I'm sure." He snapped. "But you'll forgive me if I don't believe Weasley won't take advantage of the situation."
Hermione frowned, remembering how Ron had laughed at the idea of civility between Harry and Draco during their last etiquette lesson and his assurance that even if Harry had to be civil, Ron didn't. But she also remembered Harry's reply.
"Actually, Harry's already informed Ron that if Ron starts something with you, Harry will have to take your side as a matter of upholding the House of Black honour so it would be better if he didn't. He's also assured Ron though that if you start something with him, then he's also honour bound by the alliance between the Houses of Potter and Weasley to stand with him, and as he's the Heir to the House of Black, he can punish you for your behaviour." She took a breath. "Since the family magic really does love him, I would be careful not to upset him, Malfoy."
Draco had paled at her last statement.
"And I would rethink getting your friends to do your dirty work – Harry will see through that in an instant." Hermione continued.
"You think you know everything, don't you, Granger?" Draco replied snippily. "For your information, I haven't been allowed to see my friends this Summer and have been forced to spend time with Nott and Zabini."
Hermione's eyebrows rose a tad at that admission. It made sense that Lucius Malfoy would want his son socialising with those who would have alliances with the House of Black even if Nott's was one of mutual non-aggression and Zabini's was still being negotiated since Sirius had refused the initial pitch of a marriage alliance between himself and the Widow Zabini. "And I'm sure the only reason you dislike spending time with Nott and Zabini rather than Crabbe and Goyle is because Nott and Zabini can think for themselves and won't immediately do your bidding."
Draco flushed red and she knew she'd scored a point.
"Honestly, Malfoy," she continued, "I would have thought a Slytherin would appreciate being encouraged to build alliances with strong and intelligent allies rather than simply putting up with…with minions."
"Like I said," Draco retorted finally, "you don't know everything." His chin went up. "Crabbe and Goyle are my friends."
As well as minions.
The unspoken words hung in the air between them.
Hermione nodded slowly assessing that he was sincere. "Maybe I don't know everything but I know Harry's changed a lot this Summer and he's very serious about the civility and the truce. I suggest that you and your friends do your part to keep both."
"And you'll do your part?" asked Draco with a sneer that clearly told of his disbelief that the Gryffindors – and most probably, Ron, in particular, would keep the truce.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "And yes, we'll do our part."
Draco stared at her as though assessing her sincerity, Hermione realised with amusement.
"Draco, Hermione!" Andy called out suddenly. "Come in and get washed up for dinner."
Draco turned back to her, his expression smoothed over. "I might have shaken Potter's hand, but I refuse to shake yours." He warned her.
Hermione gave him a smirk she thought Sirius would have been proud of. "If I ever offer you my hand, Malfoy, I don't expect you to shake it," she started towards the house and left him behind, "I expect you to follow etiquette and kiss it!"
o-O-o
Severus swirled the amber liquid in the crystal glass around and stared at the parchment in front of him.
He had neatly divided the parchment into quadrants: in the top left the initials of all the tagged Death Eaters who were alive were listed; in the bottom left, the initials of all of the Death Eaters who were incarcerated in Azkaban. On the right side, the top section held the initials D.L and P.P, referring to the Dark Lord and Pettigrew, while the bottom section held the initials of all the Death Eaters who were missing or dead.
He frowned.
He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. Ever since he had heard of the note Potter had received on his birthday, something had been nagging at the back of his mind…something. The meditation exercises that he had done for Occlumency hadn't helped bring anything to the surface of his mind though and he had hoped that the list would prompt whatever bit of buried information that was irritating him like a stone in a shoe to appear.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem to be working.
What he really needed was a sounding board. He missed Lily in that regard. He had few friends to confide problems to and thus had become intensely self-sufficient. Perhaps a colleague could be used, but given the sensitive nature of what he was considering he couldn't simply approach one of them even if he inclined, which he was not. He had a distant if professional relationship with the other staff and he preferred it that way. There were two exceptions but Albus was out, meeting with an old friend, and Minerva might have been an acceptable substitute in a pinch, but she was out once again at dinner with Potter and Black.
Severus's lip curled up in disgust.
He set the glass down, the beverage untouched. Maybe a walk would clear his head and provide some order to his thoughts. He set off from his quarters and made for the entrance hall. The corridors were filled with elves preparing the castle for the upcoming school year.
It wouldn't be long, Severus thought morosely, and he would have to deal with the students again; his peace and quiet disturbed.
He hated teaching.
Loathed it.
He hadn't become a Potions Master to teach others – well, apprentices, perhaps, but not children. He had wanted to research and invent; to create potions that would help the world. If there had been one blessing of his time within the Dark Lord's ranks it was that he had been given a lot of leeway in that regard, although on the downside he'd had to brew many potions on the order of the Dark Lord.
His tenure at Hogwarts had begun because of an order of the Dark Lord and it had continued beyond his defeat because Severus had needed a safe place once the news of his spying had reached the ears of his fellow Death Eaters. He was a target for their anger and resentment since Potter had been squirrelled away and Black was in Azkaban. However, he had managed to fix things, reaching out to Lucius who eventually let it be known that Severus was a double agent with the Dark Lord's knowledge. Five years before, finally comfortable that he wouldn't be killed if he were to strike out on his own, Severus had tried to resign for the first time.
Albus had carefully deconstructed his argument over the next year; there was no successor lined up – surely Severus would stay until Albus could find a replacement; Severus himself had no position to go to, the castle provided an income and accommodation as well as safety…and finally when Severus had insisted that he must resign; Harry…would Severus not find it easier to keep Lily's son safe if he were to remain as a teacher in the place where Harry would one day be educated?
He had given in.
Severus huffed out a breath as he made his way across the grounds to the lake. He was barely aware of the weakening sun, the breeze that hardly disturbed his hair, and the hush of rustling leaves in nearby trees. He started out moodily into the expanse of silver water.
It was probably unfair but Severus blamed Potter for the fact that Severus was stuck teaching.
A part of him – the part that sounded remarkably like Lily – whispered in his head that it was completely unfair of him to blame Potter. It had been the Dark Lord's order that had brought Severus to Hogwarts in the first place; it had been Severus's choice to serve the Dark Lord; it had been Albus's manipulations that had entangled him into remaining; and, it had been his choice to stay.
Possibly, Severus conceded, he found it a fitting penance for his crimes. Hogwarts was his prison, a placed where he was reminded daily of Lily and the mistakes he had made. She was dead; he didn't deserve a profession he enjoyed and a life free of irritating children who shouldn't be allowed near a cauldron.
Of course, he wasn't the only one who had been consigned to a hellish prison since Lily's death.
His fists clenched as he remembered the Ministry report that he had read about Potter's home with the Dursleys. He snorted suddenly.
What home?
That house had been nothing but a place to live at best, and at worst, yes; a prison. Potter had received only minimal care and upon reading the lack of love and nurturing in the boy's upbringing, Severus had been unwillingly outraged that Petunia had dared treat Lily's child that way. Albus had constantly assured him that Harry was well-cared for. It was why he had assumed that Potter was spoiled just as his father had been when he had attended Hogwarts. He should have known better; he should have known Petunia would never set aside her petty jealousy of Lily.
He had even felt some regret that he had continued their pattern of verbal abuse himself at Hogwarts; belittling and berating the boy for the smallest of infractions; being unfair to Potter just because he was Potter by asking him questions that only someone who had studied months ahead would be able to answer, by marking his essays harshly and grading his potions the same – if he bothered to grade them and didn't declare perfectly acceptable potions a waste.
Severus closed his eyes angrily and made a huff of denial. His behaviour was not comparable or equal to the years of abuse the muggles had heaped on the Potter; it was not. He had a role to play, and someone needed to keep the boy's ego in check.
But he was finding it harder to justify to himself why he had been so insistent on treating Potter with scorn. Lily would have been furious with Severus for treating any child that way least of all her son. And she would have chosen his side, Severus considered bitterly. After all, she had died to save her son, it followed that she would have wanted to protect him from the smaller hurts of stern treatment at the hands of a teacher.
If she had lived, she would have marched into the school and taken him to task and…Severus wouldn't have blamed her. He wondered if the fact that he had tried his best to ensure her son's safety would have mitigated the rest of his behaviour. He feared not. Truthfully, he hadn't done a great deal to help keep him safe beyond watching Quirrell, and while he had managed to counter the hex on the broom enough that Potter hadn't fallen, he had failed to keep Quirrell from Potter in the end. The enormous basilisk corpse was another reminder of his failure. Not that Potter made keeping him safe easy; the brat seemed to have no sense of self-preservation.
Why would he, Severus reminded himself. The report had made it clear that the Dursleys had raised a child who would have little sense of self-worth. Mix in Albus's manipulations and the wizarding world's expectations of their hero and it was no wonder that the result was a child that constantly risked his life without regard for his own safety. He had no doubt that the need to instil some self-esteem in Potter would be at the heart of the discussion when the staff met to discuss the at-risk children at Hogwarts.
Well, Albus had ordered him to be civil to Potter and he would be.
He would not, however, be civil to Black.
He shook his head. How Albus had thought springing a meeting between the two of them the day of the basilisk recovery was a good idea was beyond his understanding. Black was as hateful as always and Severus would not stand for it. He might have to work with the cretin to defeat the Dark Lord but he refused to pretend that their relationship would ever be anything other than it was: a mutual hatred.
Severus cast thoughts of Black away as he was reminded why he had walked out to the lake in the first place. He breathed in deeply.
The scent of gillyflowers filled his nostrils; the gillyweed would soon be ready for harvesting. He let his mind wander, letting the irritation and frustration flow out of him until his body relaxed and his thoughts were of nothing but the scenic view that filled his vision.
His ears caught the faint crunch of the grass behind him and he shot a look over his shoulder. There was nothing visible. Still, his senses were on full alert and he could faintly smell sweat, soap and damp clothing; someone was disillusioned.
An intruder on Hogwarts grounds would be unusual, especially as Alastor Moody had improved the security since he'd come to stay in the school in mid-July. The holes in the wards had been identified and patched; the weaknesses of the surrounding secret passageways eliminated, and additional security had been added in key areas including the Infirmary and the Potion Stores.
Severus drew his wand. "Show yourself!"
Moody appeared in a waterfall of magic as the disillusionment spell ended. "Snape."
"Moody." Severus replied tersely. He and the former Auror did not get along well although since Moody's arrival at Hogwarts they had formed something of a détente by the simple means of ignoring each other.
For a long tense moment they glared at each other, wands drawn and ready.
Finally, Severus holstered his wand again and bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "Your stealth skills need some work."
"You have very good ears and a good nose, Snape." Moody responded gruffly, his magical eye whirling. "I still got close enough to you before you realised I was there that I could have decapitated you. You should be more vigilant!"
Severus sneered at him but it was actually good advice with the Dark Lord on the path to regaining a form and his fellow Death Eaters back in business. He had become too comfortable within the grounds; too complacent. "You may have a point." He conceded grudgingly.
Moody grunted. "Why are you out here anyway?"
One eyebrow arched at the insinuation. "Am I to assume from that statement that the staff are subject to some kind of curfew now?"
"Actually that isn't a bad idea." Moody said before he broke into guffaws of laughter at Severus's horrified expression.
Severus huffed out an exasperated snort.
Moody sobered but he gestured out towards the lake. "The question was purely a casual one, Snape. Albus has lectured me on the necessity of maintaining positive and friendly working relationships with my colleagues."
Severus could probably have recited the lecture that Moody had received; he received it yearly himself from Albus. "My advice is to ignore it. I do."
"So I can see." Moody said evenly. "Well, I should get back inside. Nobody on the grounds but us Professors, and Hagrid's menagerie."
"Give it another couple of weeks and it'll be overrun with little monsters." Severus retorted, deciding to head back in himself. His plan had failed. He was no further forward on finding out what it was that was bothering him about the death threat.
"I know," Moody grimaced, his scarred face twisting, "I have no idea what I was thinking when I agreed to this. In fact, I'm almost certain that Albus confunded me."
"I have often felt that way myself after speaking with him." Severus agreed and almost flinched as he realised they had managed a civil exchange.
They settled into a surprisingly comfortable silence as they walked back and Severus found himself politely altering his stride to keep pace with the limping ex-Auror rather than striding ahead. His mind darted back to his thoughts before he had left his quarters; he had wanted a sounding board. Moody was a former Auror who knew the Death Eaters very well because he had hunted them. Perhaps…
"The reason why I was at the lake was because I was considering Potter's death threat." Severus said cautiously.
"Oh?" Moody looked at him suspiciously.
"An alternate point of view may be appreciated in reviewing my thoughts on the matter." Severus said smoothly as though he had no hesitation in asking Moody for his help.
Moody nodded slowly. "The staff room?"
It was a good suggestion; neutral ground for both of them.
"I will need to recover something from my quarters." Severus said stiffly. "I will meet you there."
As soon as Moody acquiesced, Severus whirled away, heading to the dungeons where he grabbed the parchment he had prepared earlier. He arrived at the staff room to find Moody already sat in one of the seating arrangements that gave him a good view of the room and importantly the exits; Severus usually sat in the same chair. He made his way over and sat down, pulling his black robes close to him.
Moody waved his wand to place a privacy bubble and lifted his flask. "Ogden's."
Severus was about to refuse when he decided that sharing a drink with the man might make their discussion more convivial. He gave a sharp nod.
Moody conjured two glasses and poured the drink. They saluted each other silently before they knocked the drinks back.
"So," Moody said, "what's this about?"
"Since I spoke with Albus about the specifics of the death threat, I have been unable to get the feeling that I should recall something, something useful, but despite my efforts my memory refuses to give up the information." Severus confessed. "I prepared this list hoping it would prompt something." He handed it to Moody.
The grizzled wizard scanned it, his good eye taking on a calculating look as he registered the initials and put names to them. He frowned as he neared the end of the parchment. "Why've you got dead Death Eaters on the list?"
"What I am trying to remember is something in my past, I therefore thought it prudent to have them all listed." Severus answered obediently and his eyes widened before they narrowed on Moody. He picked up his discarded glass and sniffed. "Veritaserum?"
"A variant." Moody replied after a long moment.
Severus's eyes widened again. "You dosed us both." He had poured them drinks from the same flask.
Moody nodded. "Mild dose. Just enough to suggest you should tell the truth rather than to compel you." He scowled at Severus. "Didn't think you'd fall for it but you did."
"And what makes you think I won't just get up and leave?" snarled Severus angrily, stung by the criticism since it was deserved. He had let his guard down and the former Auror had taken advantage of it.
"Because the serum may help provoke your memory into recall." Moody pointed out briskly.
Unfortunately, Moody was right. Severus rubbed his forehead tiredly.
"Do you follow the Dark Lord?" Moody asked bluntly, obviously determined to take full advantage of Severus's stupidity.
"No." Severus said brusquely. "I intend to see him dead."
"Hmnpf." Moody said surprised. "Well, I guess that's good enough for me." He gestured. "Tell me about when you found out about the death threat."
Severus wrestled with whether he should just give Moody the finger and leave, but his need to know what was nagging at him overruled his want to tell the other wizard to piss off. "I found out about it in the Prophet," he replied tersely, "and, frankly, the only thing I thought at that time was that the article reeked of simpering mediocrity."
Moody laughed. "Skeeter does have a turn of phrase." He motioned at Severus. "So, tell me about when you started feeling that it rang bells."
"Albus called me into his office to update me about various matters," Severus said, "one of which was the death threat. He had been able to retrieve a copy from Director Bones. He handed it to me to read and informed me of the results of the magical forensic tests…"
"And bells rang."
"Like now." Severus said dryly.
"What did it remind you of?" Moody asked directly.
Severus felt the tug of something but it failed to reach his lips and his mind remained blank. "I can feel that I know but I cannot say why and what." He frowned in concentration but shook his head.
"Interesting." Moody's magical eye spun. "The only time I've seen a truth serum fail to retrieve memories is when the individual has been a Secret Keeper or when they've been obliviated or some other form of memory spell has been used."
Severus stiffened. He definitely wasn't a Secret Keeper which meant memory charms but his Occlumency should have caught someone playing about with his memory. "I'm a Master Occlumens…" he began.
"So?" Moody challenged. "You had to sort through memories during training and you obviously sort through memories since as a matter of routine, yes. But it only means that the likely timing of your memory issues is during the period when you were training and gave someone access to your head."
"Bellatrix!" Severus growled furiously. His hands clenched into fists again as he attempted to control the surge of magic that erupted through him.
Moody's eyebrows shot up. "You gave that lunatic bitch access to your mind?!"
"I didn't have a choice in the selection of my tutor!" snarled Severus. He took a deep breath trying to get himself back under control. "I stayed for a month at the LeStranges."
"Then, whatever rings your bell about that death threat must have taken place during that month." Moody pointed at him. "A galleon says LeStrange placed a notice-me-not on the memories. Probably convinced you you'd already sorted through them and put them away."
"Yes." Severus said stiffly; he had already come to that conclusion himself. But it was a major step forward from his previously frustrated efforts to remember. "Now I am aware of the problem, I shall address the issue in my next Occlumency session."
"Also explains why you listed the dead Death Eaters." Moody mused out loud. "Your subconscious was trying to give you a clue."
Severus nodded. It was not an entirely stupid conclusion.
"Does anything spring to mind now you know?"
"No," Severus shook his head, "I can vaguely recall staying in the mansion…" he frowned, "and that Rasbastan often had a male guest but I cannot recollect who."
"Probably Crouch Junior." Moody said. "It might explain the notice-me-not. Crouch was obviously being kept under wraps, wasn't he?"
Severus nodded slowly. Barty Crouch Junior had been a well-kept secret from the other side and within the Death Eater ranks. It had certainly surprised Severus when Crouch had been arrested along with the LeStranges at the Longbottoms. Moody was probably right about the reason behind his memory issue. But even if that had been the reason why Bellatrix had played with his memories, the thing he needed to remember was somewhere in them and he didn't think the thing was Crouch's romance with Rabastan.
The staff door opened and Albus walked in, colourfully attired in lime green and bright lemon striped robes. His face brightened at the sight of Moody and Severus sat together.
Moody glanced at him and silently they both agreed their discussion was over. Moody quickly took down the privacy charm. "Albus."
"Alastor! And Severus!" He beamed at them. "How delightful to see you both here! Together!"
Oh Merlin, Severus realised; Albus thought they had been bonding! His eyes caught Moody's and they exchanged identical looks of horror. And then identical looks of consternation that they had exchanged looks at all and that perhaps Albus had been right.
Severus did the sensible thing.
"If you'll excuse me…" he said, and fled to his quarters.
o-O-o
Sirius was grumpy.
Sundays were usually reserved for father-son time with Harry but because of Simeon's visit that wasn't possible. Added to that was Sirius's consternation that at the dinner the night before Remus had mentioned the Black country estate and the rest of the family had enthusiastically decided a visit to the property was in order.
He sighed as he exited the floo into the entry hall. He personally had no wish to visit the estate; he'd avoided it since he'd regained the Lordship despite Remus's nagging. But he'd been helpless against the combined efforts of Remus, Harry and Andy who had unfairly in his opinion ganged up on him.
He stepped aside to allow the rest of the visitors to enter. In no time at all, the hall was crowded with various factions of the House of Black. His gaze immediately sought out Harry. His son was with Remus apparently listening intently along with Hermione to Remus's history lesson about the old manor house, (and Remus was in full teacher mode with waving arms and all).
Sirius snorted under his breath at how close Hermione and Harry were; the two teenagers were never far from each other's side and he had a bet with Remus that they'd get together at the end of their fourth year. They had a wager of five galleons riding on it. Despite his amusement though, Sirius did worry occasionally about it. Teenage romances rarely lasted the distance and he was concerned that if the pair did get together but then broke up acrimoniously that it would impact their friendship and Hermione's comfortable inclusion in the House of Black.
Sirius's eyes widened as Draco asked Remus a question and joined the small group.
"I'm glad to see he's attempting to integrate." Andromeda's dry tone had Sirius turning around to see that she was just behind him. "I was worried he was going to spend the entire day clinging to Cissy's skirts since Lucy declined to come along and my daughter is on duty today."
Sirius harrumphed. Harry had told him that he and Draco had agreed some form of truce the day before but Sirius would believe Draco meant it only when he had undeniable evidence.
"I haven't been here for years." Andromeda said, looking around, nostalgia coating her words thickly.
He glanced around the familiar walls and sighed. "Me either."
"You remember the week-long Summer gatherings your grandfather would insist we attend?" Andromeda sighed. "Of course, in retrospect, they must have been family meetings."
"They were."
Andromeda looked at him sharply before nodded in understanding. "You always disappeared during the day and we thought you were being bratty and avoiding us, but you weren't, were you?"
"I was the Heir from the age of eight, Andy, so; no," Sirius said, "I wasn't avoiding you all so much as sitting and watching Grandfather keep the family in line." He shivered. He had hated the Black family meetings although he could better understand his grandfather's ruthlessness and iron-clad control now more than he ever had before.
The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted Sirius's memories and he turned gratefully to Remus who gestured at the gathered group around him; Simeon and his family, Narcissa and Draco, Ted, Harry, and Hermione.
"I thought I'd give everyone a tour while you sort the study out." Remus said firmly.
In other words, Sirius thought with resigned amusement; go and sort the study out.
He nodded. "Good plan."
"I'll come with you, Remus," Andromeda offered, "I'm sure Cissy and I can tell some stories about this place."
Narcissa smiled at her sister, a hint of mischief breaking through her placid demeanour. "I'm sure we can such as the time you convinced us all to drink Firewhiskey."
Andromeda winced before she rallied. "Yes, well, there is the time that you decided you wanted to look like Aunt Cass and dressed up in…"
"Perhaps Harry would find tales of Sirius more interesting?" Narcissa smoothly interrupted.
"That'd be brilliant." Harry declared.
Sirius shot him a look. "Traitor!"
Harry grinned as Remus led them away; his son gave a small wave goodbye. Interestingly, Anna fell into step beside Harry and Sirius breathed a small sigh of relief as the muggleborn witch made the effort to fix the hurt she'd caused Harry the night before with her cool distance after Harry had blessed Jason.
In some ways, he could appreciate she had a point; Harry had performed magic on her child without her consent, magic which had compelled her to participate in a way not dissimilar to an Imperius curse. She hadn't been raised with the same magical traditions and viewed the family magic and therefore Harry's use of it with high suspicion. Worse still was that they had been unable to immediately tell her the specifics of the gift that Harry had given her because of the presence of the Malfoys – regardless of the vows, Sirius didn't want them to know exactly the nature of Harry's protection.
But Harry had apologised and Anna's attitude had made the dinner particularly uncomfortable for Harry as she'd all but ignored him. Simeon had tried to make up for it by being jovial with Harry himself but the damage had been done; Harry had tried not to be affected but he was hurt and Sirius could see the shadows of the Dursleys' criticisms of him flickering once more in Harry's eyes. He could have cheerfully throttled Anna for that.
After dinner, Harry had requested to return to Griffin House and Sirius had let him go sending Remus along to comfort and reassure him. Sirius had sat down with Anna and Simeon and informed them exactly what kind of priceless protection against evil Harry had bestowed upon their son (protection created through the sacrifice of his own mother's life) and Anna had been somewhat abashed.
At breakfast that morning, she had apologised wholeheartedly to Harry for her standoffishness and thanked him for his gift and it was good to see her continue to work past the initial misunderstanding and conflict by spending time with Harry on the tour. He still wanted to throttle her for ever hurting his son and he suddenly had more sympathy with Molly's treatment of him earlier in the Summer.
It occurred to Sirius that he was effectively loitering in the hall procrastinating and he sighed heavily. He made his way through the manor to the large study on the ground floor.
The study door had been locked when Remus had gained entry to the estate and it wouldn't open for him. Remus believed that it would only open for the Head of the House of Black and Sirius couldn't argue with him. What he had argued was the need for the room to be opened at all.
His reluctance surprised even himself. It wasn't as though he had particularly bad memories of his grandfather. Arcturus had been a ruthless bastard, a political shark and a hard task-master but he had been proud of Sirius during his childhood, surprisingly encouraging of his mischievous streak (probably because it was a sign that he had some Slytherin cunning) and, in hindsight, he had done a great deal to mitigate the cruelty of Sirius's mother.
But unlocking the study that belonged to his grandfather was something that Sirius didn't want to do. Perhaps, he mused as he stared at the dark wood, he was grieving for the old buzzard in an odd way; perhaps he didn't want to go inside the study because that would be acknowledging his grandfather was actually dead.
Sirius shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts because he didn't want to grieve for his grandfather who had so embraced the pureblood agenda and bigotry that had led to Voldemort and the war and the loss of his friends, his real family…
He took a deep breath and placed his hand on the handle. The ward recognised him and the lock clicked open allowing him entry.
The door swung open.