Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to the proverbial Duchess of Magic, JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. No matter how much I whine about not owning anything related to the HP universe, other than a few fanfic plots, I do not profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world... Damn it!
Chapter Forty One - The New Year Begins
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Once Hermione had managed to calm down from finding out she now had her own personal elf - 'And wasn't Harrison James 'Naffing' Potter going to be paying for that little surprise, later,' thought Hermione - Harry called on Willy to give them a tour of the manor.
What they discovered was the manor couldn't really be compared with Longbottom Hall as the two were different types of buildings. Where Longbottom Hall had an attic, a resident's floor, a main floor and a basement, all on a larger footprint; Pottermore had a half-attic quarter-owlery quarter-astronomy cum sun deck, a resident's floor, a guest's floor, the main floor and a half-basement quarter-potions lab quarter-duelling piste floor, on a smaller footprint. The main floor also had a 'single floor wing' where the ceiling was about one and a half floors higher than normal; which held a ballroom cum reception room, formal dining room and formal office for the Head of House.
One thing that was immediately apparent, even in the welcoming parlour, everything was 'high class high quality'. From the quality of the ceiling fixtures all the way down to the flooring, everything screamed 'old money'; and a lot of it.
While it didn't mean all that much to Harry, as money was not something he placed high value in, it was clear the Grangers were stunned by what they saw; even Hermione.
While walking from one room to another with Hermione's arm tucked in his elbow, from behind he heard Wendell mutter to Monica, "This all must have cost a bloody fortune!"
He heard Monica just as quietly reply, "It's only occurring to you, now, that your daughter is marrying into old money?"
He didn't hear the rest.
During the tour - while the Grangers were taking a careful look through the Head of House's, Harry's, office - Harry had to quietly tell Willy not to take them to the library until last. The elf complied.
The library ended up being across two floors that split with an internal stair passing up through an open stairwell in the middle of the room. It could be accessed through matching double doors from both the main floor and the guest's floor.
It was huge; far bigger, by the sounds of it, than even the one at Grimmauld Place. But, according to Hermione, on about par with the one at Longbottom Hall.
When Hermione looked about to dash in and start taking books, Harry had to grab her and remind her he didn't know which books she could and could not touch yet.
"I'll have Willy make sure all the 'Potter's Only' and otherwise cursed books are moved to the second floor," he said. "That way, you'll know you'll be safe to touch the books on this floor until I can do something about the curses on the others."
With a sigh of frustration, Hermione nodded and said, "Thank you, Harry."
Once the tour inside was done, Willy took them outside to look at the grounds. They were extensive.
Out the back, Harry noticed a Quidditch pitch in the distance and, indicating it, asked Willy, "Is that mine?"
"Yes, Master Harry," he replied. "Master James's grandfather, Master Fleamont, put it in."
"My lands extend all the way out there?"
"And quite a ways beyond, Master Harry," he replied. "Pottermore sits on over one hundred acres."
Harry frowned and said, "That's a lot. What is done with it all?"
"Most of the land has been left as nature intended, Master Harry," replied the elf. "Only the middle twenty acres or so has been cultured. Even then, it's only the inside seven acres that is actually maintained. That is, the land down to and including the Quidditch pitch and the lands around the manor that have been turned to gardens.
"For generations, the Potter family has refused to do anything with the rest of the land, as they want it to act as a natural barrier to the encroaching muggles."
Harry nodded and muttered, "Makes sense. I think I'll keep with that concept."
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Back inside and Willy escorted them to the informal/breakfast table just off the kitchen.
He indicated the table of eight and said, "Pinty and Raggy have prepared a lunch for you all. We hope you'll stay to enjoy it before leaving again."
Glancing to the Grangers, who didn't seem to have a choice either way, Harry shrugged and said, "Why not. Would you mind letting our two aurors know they should come in here for lunch? As you suspected, we'll leave again shortly afterwards."
As Harry was about to sit to the side, Willy almost pushed him to the head of the table. "Master Harry as Lord must be sittings at the head of the table."
As Harry started to comply, he turned back to see Betsy doing the same with Hermione, forcing her to the other end. "Sorry," he said. "I'll accede to your wishes; but, only this once.
"I'll sit at the head of the table for formal events, but not for informal things such as this. Alright?"
"Yes, Master Harry. Of course, Master Harry," replied the elf.
Once they were all sitting, with even the aurors being somewhat unwilling to refuse the elves, lunch was served. And it was a veritable feast.
Apparently, Dobby had already advised the Potter elves - other Potter elves - of both Harry's and the Grangers' preferences for food. There was very little that didn't meet the criteria.
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By early to mid afternoon they'd left Pottermore and returned to the Granger residence. As soon as they did, Harry was heading up to gather writing equipment so he could write notes to be delivered to Sirius, Remus, Andi and Ted about the floo address and password for Pottermore.
However, before he had a chance to do so, Wendell asked him to join him in his office.
Walking in, Wendell indicated the occasional chairs for Harry to sit in one while he sat in the other.
Once he was comfortable, Harry could see his future father-in-bond was thinking about what he wanted to say and was thinking of the right words to say it.
Harry just waited the man out, as he knew he needed the time. That, at least, he could empathise.
"Lord Potter―" he eventually said.
"Harry," he immediately came back with.
Wendell seemed a little uncomfortable, but disagreed. "Not for this," he said before pausing again. "It wasn't until Monica and I were walking through your home, seeing the quality and sheer size of it, that it really occurred to me just how rich you actually are.
"Sure, being told is one thing. But, actually seeing the... produce... of that... Well, I can say I now completely understand."
"You know that the money I have―" started Harry, but was stopped when Wendell raised his hand in a stop gesture.
"Monica and I understand that, Harry," he nodded. "However, you and Hermione are not Sonny and Cher. Your love cannot and would not sustain you."
Harry gave a snort of amusement, which Wendell acknowledged with a slight grin, but his face immediately went back to a serious expression.
"Seeing that... home of yours," he continued, "Showed Monica and I that you'll be able to provide for our little princess far beyond what we will."
"Only monetarily," said Harry. "You provide her so much more, simply by being her parents and giving her your love."
Wendell nodded and said, "It's nice of you to say so. However, it is easy for us to see that you love her just as deeply as we. So that's a, how would you put it? A wash?"
Harry only nodded back.
"I know it's a personal question, Harry. But, could you give me some idea of just how wealthy you are?"
Harry immediately asked back, "Financially, you mean?"
When Wendell nodded, Harry replied, "I don't know the total amount because I've never really wanted to know. However, interest- and disbursement-wise from investments, I think the Potter accounts bring in about three hundred thousand Galleons per quarter; or, about one point two million galleons per year. At today's exchange rate, that's about six point four million pounds per year.
"At the moment I have Ted and the goblins looking for further investment opportunities; because, very little changes have occurred over the past fifteen years and the gold has been collecting dust in the family vaults. Gold, just sitting there, is doing no one any good.
"As I told Hermione - when she first discovered just how much, in general, I'm worth and she nearly suffered a panic attack on learning of it - money is not all that important to me as anything more than something I can use to hand to someone to get them to hand me something I want. Unlike people like the Malfoys, I don't keep score based on the bottom number of the balance sheet. I keep score by how much good I can do for someone else, when it's in my power to do so."
"Altruism at its finest," muttered Wendell.
Harry said, "Hermione calls it 'my saving people thing'."
Wendell sat back and looked at Harry a bit more shrewdly, "Is your... wealth... one of the reasons you feel you're going to get pressured to take on concubines?"
"Take on concubines; no," he disagreed. "And it's not about my wealth, either. It's about my House - a Noble and Most Ancient one. Money only matters in this when it comes to taking care of the needs of the concubine if the Concubine Bond Agreement becomes a contract.
"As I said before, concubinage in wizarding Britain is about bloodlines. The advantages, to the Alliance in this regard, is that we can use the protections built into the laws regarding concubinage to protect the witches concerned.
"A witch under a Concubine Bond Agreement or Contract... or Betrothal Agreement or Contract... is 'off the market', so to speak. Further, the concerned witch falls under the protections of both their own House and the House of their contracted groom.
"It's only for that protection I'm even willing to... listen to others on the matter. If they tried to force me to actually take on concubines; that is, actual contracts; I'd tell them all to go shove it sideways."
Wendell gave a little snort of amusement and seemed to think for a while.
Finally, he asked, "So your only interest is to protect them."
"Yes," Harry simply replied.
"If your only concern is to protect these girls and not to take advantage of them, then I think you should consider hearing out what they want to say."
Harry gave his own snort of amusement and said, "Up until about a year ago, I never thought I'd hear the father of any prospective bride of mine ever say something like that."
"A year ago?" asked Wendell.
"That's when I first learned about concubinage and how it might relate to my house."
Wendell smirked and returned, "And, I never thought I'd ever say such a thing to my prospective son-in-law."
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After his meeting with Wendell, Harry continued with his intent to gather writing equipment to write his notes. He took it all down to the dinette.
He'd no sooner sat and began to write when he was joined by Hermione. She asked, "May I ask what you and Daddy talked about?"
"Concubine bond agreements," he replied. "He, too, thinks I can use them to protect the unattached heiresses of the Alliance."
"Daddy said that?" she asked, clearly shocked.
"He did," he smirked.
"Wow," she quietly exclaimed.
He just grinned back before returning to his writing.
"And, you're writing..." she asked.
"I'm writing notes with information about Pottermore to Sirius, Remus, Ted and Andi," he replied. "I'm letting them all know they're now listed as permanent guests and giving them both the floo address and password.
"I also intend to write Luna Lovegood a note to let her know, if she'd like, to join Neville in a compartment with him on the Hogwarts Express. But, I'm not telling her it'll be for her protection on the train. And I'll be including that information in the letter I send Neville."
"Can I ask why?" she asked.
"You can," he replied. "Regarding Luna is, I think, obvious. For the former, it's so they don't have to ask permission to visit, to give them somewhere they can go if they need to go somewhere due to their home being under attack or something; and letting them know, in a roundabout way, my level of trust in each of them.
"Being added to a Head of House's home wards is considered an honour."
"What about the wards here?" she asked.
"Those sort of wards can't be erected here because it's a muggle home," he explained. "You have muggles visit, such as door-to-door solicitors. If they then get bounced or otherwise harmed because of those sort of wards, it's a breach of the Statute of Secrecy.
"That's why I had various intent-based wards erected. And, even then, they had to be very specific. The ones that are on here are keyed to block those intending only physical or magical harm. It means, though, those with intent to swindle or otherwise rip off your parents will still be able to get through if they push."
"What about Dumbledore?" she asked. "If his only intent is to take you away, why can't he get through?"
"Because that one's a specific anti-Dumbledore ward keyed to his magical signature. However, if he sends someone else to come and try to take me away... I just don't know what will happen. If their intent is just to take me away to another place of safety, they should still be able to take me away. What I'm counting on is, if they were to try and push it when I refuse, the intent-based wards will deal with them."
"Sounds like a very complicated balancing act," she said.
He smiled and said, "It is."
Hermione seemed to run out of questions and then offered him help writing the notes.
"They won't take long," he said. "However, you're welcome to proof-read them, if you want."
She accepted and she did.
Harry sent them off using HEED before going into the kitchen and making an early start on dinner.
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The next morning, the Saturday, Andi came over with Sirius immediately after breakfast to give Harry another check on his fading scar.
Taking Harry apart from everyone else, she scanned it and said, "Still no sign of that dark miasma. It looks like we got rid of it. I'll need to document that solution and write a report for the Saint Mungo's medical board.
"While many might be averse towards muggle healing solutions, there's no doubt it was the muggle surgery that allowed us to get rid of it where wizarding solutions didn't, couldn't and wouldn't work."
What none of them knew was that the Unspeakables had been monitoring the operation and, as soon as the epidermis/dermis matter had been removed, at their first opportunity they surreptitiously removed it and whizzed it off to Level 9 at the Ministry and their own people. They both confirmed it contained the soul fragment of Tom Riddle and were present when the material broke down enough for it to no longer be viable to sustain the soul fragment - and watched it die.
"I'm just glad it's gone," he said. "I hadn't realised it until this morning, but for the past two nights I've had the best sleep I've ever had.
"I don't know if that's finding out I had a Horcrux and it's gone; or, it's because the Horcrux was negatively affecting my sleep."
"I'd say the latter," she agreed. "Either that, or the dark energy emanating from the scar is what was causing you restless sleep.
"I'll also be coming over on Monday evening to give you a last check before you head for Hogwarts. Then I'll send a copy of your medical file to Journeyman Healer Peter Robinson, the new medi-wizard of Hogwarts, so he has a copy of your records. I'll be asking him to report to me how well the new scar heals, so I can add it to my report."
"Normally, I'd be upset with you about using my fame, or something," he said. "However, since this seems to have worked and there's a good chance it can be used to help children not be so afflicted, I guess I can go along with it."
She smiled and said, "Don't worry, Harry. "You're referred to in the report as 'Patient TX12'. I've only a need to verbally tell the Board who the patient is. It's never written down. That would be a breach of healer-patient confidentiality and I would be placing my magic at risk."
Sirius, who was listening in, said, "For your information, Pup, I'm Patient TX11 and Remus is Patient TX13."
He immediately turned to Andi and said, "Don't worry, Andi; it was Remus who told me he was TX13 when I mentioned you designated me TX11. It wasn't then hard to figure out Harry, here, was TX12."
Harry looked to Andi and asked, "I take it there were ten others you've applied experimental healing techniques on before we came along?"
She smiled and said, "I can neither confirm, nor deny, that."
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Once Andi and Sirius had left again, Hermione dragged Harry up to his room and sat him on the chair while she sat on the side of his bed.
"You... want to tell me something you don't want your parents to hear?" he asked, once they were settled.
Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip for a few moments before she blushed and asked, "I wanted to know how far you've managed to get through that book Sirius gave you. We haven't talked about it since well before Christmas and... well... you haven't come and talked to me about it―"
Blushing and looking away he mumbled, "I've finished it."
"You have?" she asked, pleased. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because it's an uncomfortable subject?" he asked right back.
"Oh," she softly replied.
She seemed to think for another long moment and said, "Well, since you've finished it and we're talking about it now... is there anything you wanted to know? That is... is there anything you think I can clarify for you... or, just explain better?"
"I..." he immediately started to reply before he suddenly stopped. "No... No, I don't think there is."
He then seemed to think about it before he said, "Actually, yeah, maybe. However, I don't want to talk about it here. Can we wait until we're not under your parents' roof?"
"You want to wait until we're back at Hogwarts?" she asked. When Harry nodded in response she said, "Alright. We can do that."
"Thank you," he sighed.
When she rose and looked about to leave, Harry noticed she looked a little hurt. Without even thinking about it, he reached out, grabbed her about the waist and pulled her onto his lap.
When she gave a little squeak of surprise as she landed and turned to look at him in shock, he quickly kissed her long and hard. It took her only moments to respond and kiss him just as firmly back.
When he finally pulled back he said, "Sorry. But, I want to be able to talk to you without someone coming in during our talk and ruining things, alright?"
"Ah!" she said. "That's why you want to wait until we get to Hogwarts."
"Yes," he grinned.
When Hermione left a few minutes later, she was more relaxed and happy.
Harry actually didn't want to talk about it, at all. But, that did not mean he was comfortable with the idea of talking about it, if he had to, while her parents were nearby. He just hoped she'd not remember.
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The next morning was the start of the day the two teens should have been getting ready to go to Kings Cross Station to board the Hogwarts Express. They also knew it was the day that the new Headmistress, Lady Marchbanks, would be firing Dumbledore.
The aurors had been alerted over a week ago, confirmed by Madam Marchbanks herself, that Dumbledore would be fired that day. And there was already word back from Madam Bones that their auror contingent would now be expanded to a team of five until Tuesday morning.
Those aurors, though they weren't supposed to have arrived until after breakfast, had begun to arrive in time for breakfast. Dobby had made sure they were all fed as, unsurprisingly, none of them ate breakfast before arriving. Only those that arrived after breakfast had eaten.
So breakfast, that morning, ended up being a more 'lavish' meal than normal.
As they - Harry, Wendell and Monica - were finishing theirs, Monica asked, "I wonder what made Dobby lay on such a feast."
Harry smiled back and said, "The auror contingent has been increased. Apparently, Dobby's learned of the aurors' appreciation for his cooking, together with some of them arriving early, and he's gone all-out for them."
Wendell, where he was reading the Prophet and sipping on his tea, chuckled in amusement. Monica just grinned.
Wendell then said, "Monica and I are going to miss the culinary competition between you and Dobby."
Monica gave an amused little snort and said, "My waistline's not. I think I've put on about five pounds at least since you two have been here. With you not here I'll be able to trim back down again."
Harry blushed and softly said, "Sorry."
"Not your fault, Harry," she smiled. "I'm the one who... overindulged."
They were joined a few minutes later by a somewhat grumpy Hermione.
Wendell took one look at her and asked, "What's the problem, Princess?"
"I didn't sleep well, Daddy," she sighed, as she began to pick at her food.
"Why not?" asked her mother.
Hermione looked a bit uncomfortable for a few moments before she replied, "Today's the day we should be going to Kings Cross Station. And, I think knowing that Harry and I won't be there..."
Harry immediately twigged and asked, "It's just made it all the more real for you, hasn't it? That we're getting special privileges by flooing directly to the school, two days late."
She nodded with a sad expression.
"That's alright," he smiled. "You're allowed to feel that way; because, we are getting special privileges."
When she looked surprised he'd agreed with her, he explained, "Hermione, you're now the betrothed of One of the Seven. Sometimes, special privileges are going to be normal for you; especially once we're married and you're Lady Potter.
"I know you feel it's somewhat dishonest, but you need to accept it isn't. This particular privilege is not really a privilege at all. This is a... strategic move, more like... to ruin any plan Dumbledore might come up with in the short term. It's for both our protections. Ask the aurors, if you don't believe me."
"But, what about the accommodations at Hogwarts?" she asked.
"The Lords' Quarters, you mean?" he asked. When she nodded, again not looking at him, he replied, "That's not a privilege; it's a right."
When she suddenly turned her eyes to look at him with a frown, he said, "You heard me right; it's a right. A privilege is something that may be taken from you; a right cannot.
"As a Lord, no matter my age, I'm entitled... entitled... access to the Lords' Quarters. Where did you think the word 'entitled' comes from, if not from the term 'title'?"
Still a bit puzzled, she asked, "But... didn't you ask Headmistress Marchbanks if you could have access to the Lords' Quarters?"
He replied, "I was being polite, Hermione. I already knew Lady Marchbanks would not refuse me, because... as I said... it's my right to move to that accommodation. My letter requesting access was a polite way of saying, 'Please ensure the Quarters are prepared for my arrival, as I'll be using them.'"
Now better informed, Hermione seemed to lose that air of sadness she had and was able to eat her breakfast. Her appetite was back.
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Once Hermione was comfortably eating her breakfast, Harry indicated an article in the Daily Prophet to her.
"Lord MacMillan has chosen today to make a public apology from the House of MacMillan to the House of Potter," he said. And held it so she could read it while eating.
When it was clear she was done, she asked, "I thought you said Lord MacMillan didn't need to apologise; that it was Ernie, who had to."
"That was the instruction, yes," replied Harry, pulling the paper back. "However, it seems Lord MacMillan was willing to exceed that requirement by also offering apology."
"Why wait until now?" asked Wendell. "It's been five weeks."
Turning to look at him, Harry replied, "I'm guessing it's because Hogwarts reopens today. He's giving his apology to be a... 'introduction?'... to a public apology from his grandson, once everyone arrives at Hogwarts; or, possibly, even on the train on the way there."
"Your not arriving there until Tuesday is going to partly destroy that plan," smirked Wendell.
Harry grinned and shrugged back. "Only a bit. Ernest can still apologise. He'll just have to wait a couple of days. He'll be yet someone else who'll be sweating our non-appearance."
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At almost the same time in Hogwarts's Great Hall, Dumbledore had just entered and sat at his 'place' at the table when Marchbanks, from her centre place at the table as Headmistress, called to him.
"Albus?" she asked.
When he turned and asked, "Yes, Grisel... Headmistress Marchbanks?"
He'd quickly corrected himself, as soon as he saw her expression change from a neutral expression to fury as soon as he began to address her by her first name.
"I need you to see me in my office at 1.00pm sharp, Albus," she said. "Don't be late. And bring with you your teaching schedules and lesson plans, when you do."
"Yes, Headmistress," he sighed. 'Now the blasted woman wants to check I'm prepared for classes to start. Damn her. She knows damned well I've been the Professor of Transfiguration before and, therefore, know what I'm doing.'
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About an hour after they'd broken their fasts, Harry asked Hermione, "As the old fart is going to be sacked some time after 11.00am, we won't have a chance to go beyond the wards, here, again. Feel like taking a stroll around the neighbourhood?"
Hermione smiled and said, "I'd love to!" Then slipped a bookmark into the book she was reading. Harry noticed it was the one he gave her on Occlumency, Occlumency for Beginners.
Once they'd alerted the adult Grangers and the aurors of their plan to take a walk, both headed up to their respective rooms to don warmer layers.
Meeting back in the entrance foyer five minutes later, it was to be greeted by two aurors dressed as muggles and waiting for them; a witch and a wizard.
"Ready to go?" asked the female auror.
"Yup," replied Harry, taking Hermione's hand.
The auror said, "We'll follow behind under disillusionment. We won't crowd you, but we'll be close by in case of trouble you can't handle."
Harry smiled back and said, "Thank you."
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The two had been out on the street and were about two blocks and ten minutes away - they weren't hurrying - when Harry noticed two somewhat attractive muggle girls cross the road just ahead of them and walk their way. A blonde and a brunette, both had decent shaped bodies with fair sized boobs. Both were dressed in heavy denim jackets with fur-lined collars over tight T-shirts, denim mini-skirts, heavy skin-toned stockings and ankle-high boots. Both appeared about the same age as Hermione.
He then heard Hermione mutter, "Oh, Gods," as her hand tightened in his own.
Having a fair idea what was about to happen, Harry turned his eyes on hers, smiled, and said, "Don't worry; we'll handle it. Just remember who you are going to marry."
That had her relax again just as the girls got into 'range'.
"Oh, look!" snarked the blonde. "It looks like the beaver got herself a boyfriend."
That had the brunette cackle with laughter, though it did not reach her eyes.
Both stopped side-by-side about ten feet ahead of the two teens as Harry felt Hermione begin to cower behind him.
In a clear voice, Harry effected a posh, almost Malfoy-ish, accent and asked, "Hermione, dear. I believe these two prostitutes know you."
That had Hermione pop up from her cringe and stare at Harry in shock. It also managed to stutter the two girls into stunned silence.
He continued in the same voice, "How is it you know two prostitutes?"
Then in a quiet mutter to her, said, "Address me as 'My Lord'."
Hermione blinked before she took a quick glance at both girls and immediately looked back to Harry. Then she smirked.
In her own carrying voice she replied, "I have no idea if they are prostitutes now, or not, My Lord. However, both these... ladies... attended primary school in the same year as I, before I began to attend private school."
As he was turned from the two girls, Harry maintained a straight face but gave Hermione a wink with the eye furthest from the two.
"Of course, they are," he declared before he, gestured towards them and let his eyes dress them up and down. "Look at how they're dressed! Clearly, they must be prostitutes."
Turning to look at them in the eyes, he said, "Tell me... ladies... did you become prostitutes because you enjoy sex, or was it because you're too stupid to find a better profession?"
That snapped both girls out of their shock and both faces developed expressions of fury. The brunette practically shouted back, "We are not prostitutes!"
"Sorry," he said. "Please forgive me."
As both girls' expression began to relax, he said, "I meant 'Ladies of the Night'."
When he saw their expressions again change to anger, before they could say anything he tried, "Or, do you prefer 'Call Girls'?... No?... 'Hookers'?... What about 'Gentlemens' Special Friends'?"
"Arsehole!" the blonde screamed at him.
"No thanks," he blandly said. "I believe in... shall we say... the traditional entrance.
"Besides, I have no wish to pay for your services. However, I wish you luck in your... endeavours."
That had Hermione suddenly try to bury her face into his shoulder and begin snickering.
When the blonde began to splutter and start hurling invectives at him, the brunette suddenly latched onto her arm and began to drag her across the street.
"Oh, I get it!" he declared, calling after them. "You prefer to be called... Street Walkers! Sorry! My bad! Or is that demonstration to reflect how you're 'Escorts'? You're not offering a two-for-the-price-of-one deal, are you? What would that be worth, anyway? Ten pounds?"
After both girls had reached the other side of the road and hurried away down the footpath, not even looking back, Harry turned to Hermione and innocently asked, "Was it something I said?"
She then latched onto him more fully and began to laugh and cry at the same time with her face practically buried into the hollow of his shoulder.
It was a few minutes before she could compose herself enough to release him and step back.
"Damn, Harry," she giggled and sniffled. "That was just... precious."
Surreptitiously, Harry conjured a handkerchief between them and offered it to her. Hermione clearly needed one to wipe her eyes and clear her nose.
It was only a minute later before they were again walking along. But about once a minute Hermione would develop a short case of the snorts and giggles and would have to pause walking again.
When they got home, Hermione immediately tracked down her mother and dragged her upstairs. A few seconds after she did, Harry heard her bedroom door slam close.
That's when the female auror dropped her Notice-Me-Not charm and widely grinned at Harry. "You... are evil." Then hurried to the back of the house and down the stairs.
Curious, Wendell asked, "Something happen out on your walk?"
Harry shrugged and said, "Not really. A couple of girls Hermione knew from primary school tried to start something nasty with her. Before they got past their first scathing remark, I shot them down, pretty quick. And, no, I didn't use magic; just words.
"Hermione's had an on-off dose of the giggles ever since. And, I think she just wants to tell Monica about it."
Harry was right. When the two came down about five minutes later, it was obvious both had been laughing hard as both had slightly flushed faces, bright eyes and were grinning from ear to ear.
Monica immediately approached Harry, pulled down on his arm to get him to bend over a little and planted a kiss on his cheek.
As he started to straighten up in shock with a developing blush, she brushed his cheek with her hand and softly, but vehemently, said, "Good boy."
Blushing a little, Harry just grinned back.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
As Platform nine and three-quarters began to fill with excited students and their exasperated guardians, many were looking about to see if they could spot Harry.
Because it was a Sunday, there wasn't so many parents dropping their children off early so they could hurry in or back to work, so many parents were using the opportunity as a bit of a social event. Pockets of adult witches and wizards were shifting about, while also keeping an eye on children who were wanting to dash off to find friends.
For the Heirs of the Alliance, they had already made plans and were meeting in the third carriage. They all also already knew Harry and Hermione were going to be a 'couple of' days late; so, did not expect to see him on the platform or on the train.
As they'd arranged between them, Neville was early and had already secured a compartment in the 'right' carriage, while his parents were on the platform greeting old friends and catching up. His father did come on board, though, and help him with getting his trunk into the overhead rack with a quick levitation charm. On his father's advice he also had his Hogwarts uniform out and set aside for changing into later. That way, he would not need to get his trunk down to get them out.
Ready, he pulled a book titled 'Water Plants of the Mediterranean' out, took a seat next to the door and began to read.
Next to arrive was Daphne and Tracey with Samuel following with their trunks levitating behind him, stacked one atop the other.
"Heir Longbottom," both girls said almost simultaneously.
Before Neville had a chance to respond, Samuel then said, "Hello, Neville."
Neville was quick to slide across the bench to give Samuel room before then standing. "Lord Greengrass; a pleasure," he said. Before looking to the girls and smiling. "Ladies."
Samuel levitated their trunks into the overheads for them. And then quickly begged their leave.
With his burgeoning confidence, Neville was about to suggest they remove a change of Hogwarts robe out of their trunks first, when he noticed the two girls were already wearing them.
With both trunks up and secure - the girls checked - they turned to Neville and smiled at him.
Still standing he asked, "Shall we?" and indicated the seats.
After the girls both sat, Neville sat and asked, "Any idea when Hannah and Susan are likely to turn up?"
"No idea," said Tracey.
Looking to Daphne, he asked, "Are we likely to have any trouble for you by sitting with me?"
Daphne answered, "As I said on the floo, not since its gone public the Alliance has gone active again."
Susan and Hannah turned up about fifteen minutes later and were giggling. Both were also dragging their own trunks.
Daphne used a levitation charm to lift both into the overhead racks for the girls, which surprised Neville. "I didn't know you were that accomplished with the levitation charm, Daphne."
Daphne smiled back and said, "I could only do it because both have permanent featherweight charms on them. If they didn't, I wouldn't have been able to manage it, I don't think."
Neville thought about it and asked, "What if someone had cast featherweight charms on them immediately before you levitated them?"
That clearly surprised the girl. "I... had not considered that."
Snapping out of her surprise she looked to the two still giggling 'Puffs and asked, "Something amuse you?"
Susan replied, "All the people on the platform. Hannah and I were stopped three times by people asking us about the Alliance."
Then Hannah added, "And then they immediately asked us if we'd introduce them to Harry, so they could apologise to him for their behaviour both over the month before the First Task and anything else."
Tracey gave a snort of amusement and said, "A little late, aren't they?"
Just before the train was due to leave, they had another knock on the door and a student ask to join them - Luna.
"Hello," she said. "I received a note from Harry Potter telling me that I should join you in your compartment for the trip to Hogwarts. I have no idea why, though."
"Luna, right?" asked Neville. "Luna Lovegood?"
"Yes," she almost hesitantly replied.
Rising, Neville said, "Harry wrote me and asked that, if you decided to join us, to make you feel welcome. So, come on in."
As Luna seemed to relax and smiled back, Neville cast a featherweight charm on the trunk and asked Daphne to levitate it up into the racks. She was happy to do so.
Once Luna was in and properly situated, Neville explained, "Harry sent me a note and asked me to ensure that Luna was made welcome if she asked to join us. I'm happy to do so. But, he hasn't been very forthcoming as to why."
Luna explained, "Lord Potter is aware of some of the difficulties I've had in Ravenclaw, due to how some of the members of the House have treated me. He seems to want to take me under his wing, so to speak.
"I also suspect he had something to do with the lovely lady mind-healer who's been visiting me over the break. But, I know he won't say if he was. I don't mind, though; she's nice company."
As Luna spoke Neville noticed she wasn't speaking as 'airily' as he remembered her to do. She now spoke with more confidence.
He smiled at her and said, "Harry didn't tell me any of that. So, thank you for telling me."
She smiled back.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
After the train departed Kings Cross right on schedule, the six sat back and relaxed in their compartment. They were happy to just settle back for the journey.
It was about and hour into the trip when the door was yanked open by Malfoy.
He did a quick look-around before he looked at Neville and said, "Longbottom. Do you know where I can find Potter?"
"He's not on board," replied Neville. "He's made other arrangements."
Malfoy seemed to think about that for a moment before he seemed to give a nod. Then he looked at Daphne and Tracey and seemed about to sneer, but thought better of it. He then stepped back out of the compartment and walked away without another word.
Neville re-closed the door.
"That was... odd," said Susan.
Neville said, "Malfoy has this bit of tradition where he tracks down Harry on the train and tries to pick a fight with him. I don't know why he bothers, as he's never won even one of their confrontations.
"However, I've never seen him act so polite before."
"That was polite?" asked Hannah.
"For Malfoy; yes," he shrugged.
It was a moment before Daphne said, "Malfoy is going to be a changed boy at Hogwarts, from now on. He's learned he's not the Heir Primary of Black, as he thought he was; his father has lost his puppet Minister and his Lord Black, I suspect, has laid down the law with his mother.
"I also believe he's very quickly going to discover that, as a result, he can no longer consider himself the so-called Prince of Slytherin. That title will likely shift to Theodore Nott, because of his grandfather, Caracticus Nott, sitting on the Wizengamot and nominating for the Ministership."
"Nott won't win," said Susan.
"No," agreed Daphne. "However, just being nominated shows the other Houses in the Dark alliances are deferring to him. That means their Heirs will to Theo."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Down towards the rear compartments of the train, Ron was moping.
He was very relieved he was no longer at Aunt Muriel's. However, he only found out Harry and Hermione would not be on the train when he arrived at the platform. The twins told him. He had to promise he'd apologise to 'them', but they weren't here to apologise to.
After sitting for half an hour he realised sitting in the compartment on his own was stupid. So, went looking for who else was on the train.
He found Dean and Seamus sitting in a compartment with two girls from Hufflepuff and asked to join them. The two boys seemed reticent, but the two 'Puffs allowed it.
Feeling grateful - not an emotion he was used to - he took a seat and said, "Thank you."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
After a short lunch, Dumbledore returned to his office apartment and collected the information Marchbanks had demanded of him. Then made his way to her office. He knew he was going to be a couple minutes late, but didn't care. It was time he started regaining his rightful authority; even if it meant taking little progressive steps to get there.
At two minutes past 1.00pm he approached the gargoyle. He was about to inform it he was there when the gargoyle simply stepped to the side to give him access. With a sigh of annoyance, he made his way up the stairs and, as usual of late, didn't even bother to knock on the door before letting himself in; as if it was his right to do so.
Marchbanks was sitting at her desk, but she wasn't alone. Sitting before her desk was another man. One Dumbledore did not recognise.
On seeing him, Dumbledore stopped just inside the door. He looked at the man, who had now turned to look back and realised he didn't recognise him.
With a frown on his face, he turned back to Marchbanks and said, "I believe I had an appointment with you for 1.00pm, Headmistress Marchbanks."
"You do, Albus," she said. "Since you've rudely let yourself in before knocking - a bad habit you've developed of late - you'd best come forward and take a seat."
Frowning even deeper, Dumbledore walked forward and took the second, vacant, chair slightly apart from the other man.
As soon as he sat and before he could say anything, Marchbanks held out her off hand, palm up, and said, "I believe you have something for me?" And flicked her hand in a 'hand it over' gesture.
Dumbledore, his mind on trying to figure out who the other man could be, almost unconsciously handed her his files.
As soon as she had them she put them down before her on her desk blotter and began to go through them.
Annoyed, Dumbledore said, "Aren't you going to introduce us, Gri... errr... Headmistress?"
"In a moment," she muttered.
A few moments later she'd scanned through the files and gave a small grunt of satisfaction, before closing them again and putting her hands on them.
Looking up at Dumbledore she said, "Albus..." She then gave a nod to the other man, who was still carefully watching him back, "... This is Professor Jonathan Biffingwater. He comes to us by way of recently being a professor at a day school for magic on the west coast of magical America."
She gave that a moment to sink in as Dumbledore only deigned to give a slight nod to the man. Biffingwater only cocked an eyebrow back and smirked. He saw the brush off for what it was and clearly didn't care.
Giving her own snort of amusement at the disrespect, Marchbanks simply said, "Starting today, Professor Biffingwater is the new Hogwarts Professor of Transfiguration." It was not hard to hear the satisfaction in her voice when she said that.
From looking almost surreptitiously at Biffingwater, Dumbledore's head snapped back to stare at her in shock.
"Yes, Albus," she almost snarked. "It means you're fired. The School Board gave me permission to fire you a couple weeks back. However, I wanted to make sure John, here, had arrived before I did so."
As Dumbledore sat there, still shocked... stunned... even appalled... Marchbanks went on to say, "You'll find you've been paid until the end of the week, as per the requirements of your tenure-ship contract. However, your services are no longer required and I'm demanding of you to be out of the castle by 4.00pm, this afternoon."
He gaped for a few more seconds before he said, "I have tenure―"
She was quick to cut him off. "Had tenure, Albus. I warned you, some time ago, I believed I had sufficient cause to void your tenure. The School Board agreed.
"I trust you not to make a scene as you pack your personal effects and vacate the castle. However, if you're not gone by 4.00pm, you'll be rudely ejected from the castle and grounds.
"That will be all, Albus. Thank you."
Angrily, Dumbledore surged to his feet and glared back. "You haven't heard the end of this!" he snarled, before spinning about and storming from the room. Both watched him as he walked out, ready for him to try something.
As he walked out the door, Marchbanks banished the door shut and warded it.
Once the door closed, Biffingwater turned back to Marchbanks and said, "Unpleasant fellow. And, what's with the colours?"
Marchbanks gave a quiet snort and replied, "An... affectation, I believe. Otherwise, I'd have to suspect the man of being completely colour blind."
"I hope that's not the standard of dress I can expect from other members of staff?" he asked.
"No," she replied. "I trust you received the dress standards document I sent you?"
"I did," he replied. "It is very similar to the dress standards of the school at which I recently taught. However, the wearing of robes is something new."
"You have them, though?" she asked.
"I do," he smiled. "Madam Malkin was most helpful."
She gave a nod and smile back. Then handed him the files Dumbledore had handed her only a few minutes earlier. "You'll get used to it."
After accepting the files and taking them under his off arm, Biffingwater stood and gave her a slight bow. "I shall see if Mister Dumbledore's programs are workable, or not. Either way, however, I shall be ready to teach by first class tomorrow."
"Thank you, John," she said. "Don't forget; you need to be in the Great Hall for the evening meal and announcements by no later than 7.15pm. I'd prefer you there a little earlier, if you can manage it."
He gave her another bow as a head nod and said, "As you wish, Headmistress."
He then turned and walked out as Marchbanks removed the security charm on the door.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ