Harry and Hermione -- Their Sixth Year II

Chapter X

Monday, December 31, 1996

Hermione and Harry portkeyed to Mrs. Figg's at 6:20. "Now Harry! There's no reason to be nervous," Hermione scolded. She turned to Mrs. Figg. "Thank you for allowing us to arrive here."

Mrs. Figg smiled. "I'm glad you did. I had wanted to meet you since the summer, and now I may also thank you for the lovely dinner last week." She smiled at Hermione while Harry was greeting the cats. "Harry has had so little good happen in his life, I'm glad you're there to be with him. I wish I'd been able to make his life a little better." She turned to Harry. "I am sorry, Harry."

"I understand, Mrs. Figg," Harry assured the elderly lady.

"Now, I'll be out this evening," Mrs. Figg said. "You can activate your portkey anywhere, correct?"

"We can, Mrs. Figg," Hermione assured her. "Ideally, we'll walk back and leave from your stoop."

"I had hoped last summer that I would never be back here," Harry grumbled as they approached #4.

"I know," Hermione agreed, taking his arm, "but they are relations, even if they're also horrid."

"That's probably how Aunt Petunia thinks about me," Harry said. He preferred not to think what Vernon thought of him. Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door and then tried it. Since it was unlocked, they walked on in. "Aunt Petunia?" he called out politely.

Petunia Dursley came into the entrance hall, a fake smile plastered on her face. "Welcome home," she said in a strained voice. It was clear that she knew Harry wasn't there just to socialize but to strengthen the wards that protected her son as well as her nephew.

Harry forced a smile as well. "Aunt Petunia, Hermione Granger. Hermione, Petunia Dursley."

The two women bared their teeth at each other and shook hands briefly. Before Petunia could turn around, Harry asked softly. "Two things, Aunt Petunia. How is Dudley doing, and I could never find out if his girlfriend was one of the girls attacked."

Petunia came close to whisper. "Dudley is doing better, although he still had a great deal of pain in his joints Christmas Eve. His girl friend, Mary, Mary Smith that is, is here. She missed the trip because she was sick." Harry and Hermione nodded, and followed Petunia into the sitting room.

Vernon had been sitting in his favorite chair, scowling at the very thought of having to see Harry again. At the sight of Hermione, however, Vernon found himself standing politely. Hermione, although still at best only average height, was fashion-model thin and attractive. She was wearing a tight black sheath dress that went past her knee but which was slit slightly higher, showing off her muscular stomach, tight butt, and strong arms. Her low-heeled shoes were fashionable if sensible, as was the jewelry Harry had bought her to match her ring.

Vernon's father and grandfather, although he never mentioned it, had been furriers -- Marge had run the store for over a decade after his death, before selling out and investing the profits. Over her stylish outfit, Hermione was wearing what Vernon recognized as a genuine top-of-the-line three-quarter length mink coat, which Harry had found under preservation spells in one of his vaults. (Hermione, of course, would never wear a new fur.)

Harry didn't look anything like the ragged urchin he had been made to look like for his entire life at the Dursleys. He was now only a few inches shorter than Vernon. If his hair was still a mess, the rest of him wasn't. His glasses were fashionable and straight, his shoes highly polished (thanks to the elves). Harry was dressed in what was obviously a hand-made dark pinstripe suit under a full-length leather trench coat. Harry and Hermione looked closer to 20 rather than under 17.

"Hermione, my uncle, Vernon Dursley, my cousin Dudley, and his girl friend Mary Smith. Uncle Vernon, Dudley, Miss Smith, Hermione Granger."

"Miss Granger," Vernon said fairly politely, out of respect to the fur coat if nothing else. Dudley merely nodded. His ordeal had obviously forced him to lose a great deal of weight. Dudley had kept his muscle, however. By the late spring, he would probably be a rising young cruiser-weight boxer, if he didn't resume his bad eating habits.

Mary Smith had also lost some weight since the picture Harry had seen had been taken, and she'd let her hair grow longer. She now looked less like Crabbe in drag than she did Millicent Bulstrode with lighter hair and almost two eyebrows. She was, however, much more polite. She stood and came over to shake Hermione and Harry's hands. "I've heard a lot about you, Harry. I had hoped it was mostly just from having two boys locked in a sibling conflict, and I'm glad to see that must have been it. Please call me Mary or May, although my family calls me Mary Sue."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, too," Harry said, impressed. He had figured any girl that liked Dudley would have to be horrible.

Harry remembered then that he was, in a sense, part guest and part host. He helped Hermione off with her coat, and then hung it, and his, in the closet near the front door. Petunia followed him. "Did you know your mother wore that coat?" she asked.

"No," Harry admitted. "It was in storage."

"It actually came from Dursley Furriers, although I don't think Vernon ever knew about it." Petunia looked at Harry. "Marge kept the store going a few years after Mister Dursley died. Marge kept the books and ordered the stock, so she didn't know Lily had purchased it, but Lily wrote and told me about it." Petunia shrugged. "Your . . . friend knows enough of the real world not to embarrass us?"

"She's . . . like my mother," Harry said. "Her parents are both dentists."

"Oh! well . . . good." Petunia decided she should be nicer than she had planned.

Harry and Hermione left a little after 10:30, having had a much better time than they had anticipated. Both knew this was in part because Hermione knew how to act in a very Muggle environment and made no miscues. Ginny Weasley or Luna Lovegood would have created a much tenser atmosphere. It was partly because the Dursleys had been made to realize that even without Harry as part of their lives, the magical world could easily threaten them and so the wards were more useful than Harry was an annoyance. Mostly, of course, it was because Mary Smith had been there, and it was obvious both that she was and would stay good for Dudley and liked and would like to see more of Harry and Hermione. She was not to be frightened off.

Hermione had extracted a fair amount of information from Mary, and would turn it over to Moody for investigation, just to make certain of her past. They had given Mary the Muggle postal drop address used to send Muggle mail to Hogwarts.

"Shall we go home, my Harry-bear?" Hermione said softly. "I want to stay up until midnight, and then snuggle next to you until lunch." They were having guests for lunch.

"You mean you've decided Dobby and Winky know what they're doing, so you don't have to supervise them?" Hermione had refrained from dropping in on their cooking the Christmas Eve dinner, after upsetting them slightly the day before, but it hadn't been something that came naturally to her.

Hermione sighed. "It's not easy, but I have to admit supervising them caused more upset than it does good."

"That's my angel. Let's sit in front of the fire place, watch Colin get silly on the champagne, and hope that he and Dean don't get too involved again."

"If you enjoy having me do it to you so much, you won't go blind watching Colin doing Dean. That doesn't make you gay, unless you'd prefer Colin or Dean doing you instead of me," Hermione teased.

"Would you do it to me with Colin or Dean, or Ginny or Luna or Ron, watching?"

"We're shyer than Colin and Dean," Hermione pointed out. "But while I certainly wouldn't want anyone watching us, I wouldn't be humiliated if Colin, Dean, Ginny, or Luna caught us, or even if we were doing something in the same room they were doing something similar in, as long as we're not in the direct line of sight with them."

"I love an exhibitionist angel," Harry said with faux amazement. "Who'd have ever thought that shy Her-mi-owny would be like that."

"Not me," she admitted. "But back then, I never thought of anything beyond kissing. I had read my parents sex manuals, of course, but I never dreamt of applying any of that knowledge until I found myself in bed with you."

"I love you."

Hermione smiled. "And I you. We need to merge our magics while we're, you know, together - - it's really supposed to enhance the sexual experience."

Harry kissed Hermione deeply, and triggered the portkey. They would have the rest of the week alone in the house with Colin and Dean, with the Order confined to the lower floors.

Saturday, January 4, 1997

"Nice to see you four," Remus said drily as they sat down at the breakfast table. All four had stuck to the top floor and attic for most of the week, except for exercising in the basement.

"I've raided the kitchen a few times," Harry retorted, "and the only strange noises I heard were from the master suite." Remus growled a little at that.

Tonks came into the room. "Moody and the rest of the escort will be here at Eight-fortyeight," she reminded them.

"Eight-fortyeight?" Dean asked.

Tonks shurgged. "Anything to make things a bit different."

"Are the Weasleys still going to be there?" Hermione asked.

"We meet them at the Leaky Cauldron."

"At Nine-seventeen?" Colin asked with a grin.

"None of your cheek, boy!" Moody called out. "You should all know by know how to practice. . . ."

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" everyone yelled, even Remus and Hermione.

"Damn straight!" Moody stated. He was still staring at Colin. "Speaking of cheek, get that wand out of that back pocket! I swear, you kids will keep doing that until someone burns half their arse off!"

"Take it out immediately," Dean commanded. "You know I prefer your arse whole!"

Everyone stared at Dean for a moment, and then everyone but Colin and Moody burst out laughing. Moody and Colin were turning bright red with embarrassment.

A few minutes later, the group was assembled in the entrance hall, their bags packed. "Just out of curiosity," Moody asked, "are these house elves going back with you?" There seemed to be a hint of hope in Moody's voice.

Harry smiled a smile that would have done both his father and Sirius proud. "Dobby, please call the others in; just the ones on the premises."

"Yes, Master Harry." Dobby popped out and back in an instant. Seventeen of the eighteen elves from the mews were present. Everyone's eyes, except for Hermione's, went very wide. Even those who had known about the elf colony hadn't realized how many there were. "The Blacks killed their house elves," Harry said in a hard voice. "Other people discard them. We will offer them sanctuary and an opportunity to work. In return, they will help protect us."

"House elves serve the Master and Mistress," the elves chorused.

"To answer your question, Dobby and Winky will be returning to Hogwarts with us, assigned to the Gryffindor dorms. They will be keeping an . . . taking care of things were, and working on restoring some other properties I own that have been allowed to become run-down over the years."

"Ah, so that's why you had me get the information from Diggle," Remus said, enlightened.

"Exactly," Harry agreed. "There will always be at least six elves on the property at all times."

"House elves will serve the Master and Mistress! Free elves will protect the House of Potter!"

Moody realized he had rarely seen enslaved house elves this loyal to their owners, let alone this attitude in the few free elves he had run across over the many decades. He shelved all plans for taking a closer look at the wards protecting the top floor and attic. "Well, come along. This is a pre-set portkey."

"Be well," Harry said to the elves.

"House elves will be well, so free elves can work hard!" they heard as the portkey pulled them away.

After the humans left, Dobby turned to the other elves. "Dobby said Harry Potter was the Kind Master foretold in Prophecy. Master and Mistress will free the house elves, while enabling us to work!"

A small, wizened elf came out from behind the others, where he had been both hiding and observing. "Dobby may be right. Free house elves may, if they wish, for the first time, protect the Man and Woman to the best of their abilities. that is for free elves to think about. Gurt will spread the word."

"WE WORK TO HELP THE KIND MASTER AND MISTRESS!" the free elves vowed. "WE WORK TO FREE THE HOUSE ELVES!"

The group arrived in a hallway in the Leaky Cauldron. "This is the corridor reserved for our party," Moody stated. "Wards have gone up as soon as we arrived. Here are your room keys. You leave them and pick them up from Tom. You may not leave or enter the area without one of them." He handed them out at random. "Your elves will sort your luggage. Go on with you, the others are waiting!"

The four teens took off.

The eight teens walked through a very crowded Diagon Alley. They made a stop at Gringotts, all bought new sets of school and casual robes, and Luna stopped in The Quibbler's office to greet her father, while Henrietta dropped off letters for her father. Harry, Hermione, and Ron each made short statements on the war, and Colin made a plea that the rogue werewolves be offered an amnesty, and that they take up any offers of clemency. Ginny, Dean, and Henrietta refused to comment at all, while Luna couldn't really comment, as the publisher's daughter.

In thanks, Lovegood took them to lunch at a small discrete bistro, tucked away on an upper floor of a nearby building. After lunch, the group went browsing, picking up odds and ends in the different shops.

Coming out of Eeylops, Henrietta mentioned, "I'm surprised they've let us wander today." Ginny and Colin snorted. "What?"

"Look at all the other students," Hermione said, waving at a trio of Seventh year Hufflepuffs they were walking past. "The days before Christmas and New Years, and today, were announced as 'safe days' -- I don't know that many aurors, but I've seen six so far today, and Gringotts announced they were extending their protection as well. Business has been down, so they wanted to bring customers in."

"That makes sense," Henrietta said.

"Not entirely," Luna said. "Walk-in customers have been down, but owl orders have been way up. The problem was, some businesses need the walk-ins."

"Shall we see how this business is doing?" Harry asked. The group saw they were in front of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

The shop was empty. "Sorry," a voice yelled out from the back, "we're closed. . . ." Fred came out, and then stood in shock. Finally, he called out, "George!"

"What?"

"Come here, quick!"

George popped his head out a few seconds later. "Well, hello!"

"Why are you closed?" Ron asked.

"Come on in and shut the door," George instructed. When they had, he told them, "Look, we're not going out of business or anything. We're doing moderately well with owl orders. . . ."

"There are order forms on the counter," Fred pointed out.

"We're doing some special orders," George told them, "and that's really all we can say about it."

"So we adjusted the shop," Fred said. "Moved the walls up, so we can have a larger workroom."

"The current work actually pays a bit better in some ways," George commented. "Still, we'd rather be doing jokes."

"So how's Knockturn Alley doing?" Harry asked.

"Business is booming over there, by all accounts," George replied.

"It was a lot grungier and less interesting than we thought it would be," Fred admitted.

"Lots of business in protection amulets, especially against dementors."

"About the only one that works is Muggle, if there aren't many wards to interfere." Fred thought a moment. "A battery and a flesh bulb?"

"Flash bulb?" Hermione asked.

"That's it," George agreed. "They were selling in Knockturn Alley for two Galleons. Dad and Dung got together, and Dung's selling them three for a Galleon."

"I can clue you in on the most effective flash bulbs," Colin offered.

"How would you know that?" Ginny asked.

"We'll let you in on it later," Harry said. "Right now, it's secret."

Colin finished scribbling on an order form and handed it to George. "Just trust me on this, alright?"

"We will, and not a word," Fred said.

"These are a little more expensive," Colin warned, "but they should work better."

"We'll work things out."

That night, Hermione snuggled next to Harry and held him tightly.

"What are you thinking about, Angel?" Harry asked.

"Lots of things, few of them any good," she admitted. "War . . . I can understand what we're doing. I may be an idealist, but I'm not a pacifist. I understand a defensive war, which is what we're fighting. But to fight for the sake of conquest, to impose slavery on others. . . ."

"Would you fight to stop slavery?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. . . . Maybe I would. But isn't fighting to help others different than fighting to impose my will on others for my own advantage?"

"If we win, we'll be imposing our wills on others, and you wouldn't say that was wrong," Harry answered. "And if we lose, Voldemort will impose slavery until someone else rises up and destroys him."

"I know, but you do see the differences, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, it's easier to see than it is to explain," Harry agreed.

"It's going to be difficult going back," Hermione admitted. "Snape was a horrid man, and even if he knew a lot about potions, he wasn't that good of a teacher. Still, it will be odd without him and all those Slytherins."

"It will," Harry agreed yet again, since Hermione had brought this up a few times since Christmas. "I wonder who will replace him."

"Harry!"

"What?" Harry demanded. "Life goes on, Hermione. Let's say I kill Voldemort by this June, and Dumbledore dies in July or I get hit by a lorry in August. Hogwarts will still start up on the First of September, Ron will still cheer for the Chudley Cannons, and you'll still be on the top of the N.E.W.T.s. I would miss Dumbledore, even if I still don't totally trust him. I know you would miss me, because I know you love me. If I can just kill Voldemort, life will at least go on until the next horrid thing comes along. I just hope, if I'm still here, I'm not the one who will have to handle it."

Hermione hugged Harry closely and kissed his bare chest.

"I'm going to miss holding you like this every night," Harry said, his voice now soft.

"How about like this?" Hermione said with a grin.

"Oooo, I'll miss that even more," Harry teased.

"How about like this?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

Hermione lightly slapped Harry's flank.

Sunday, January 5, 1997

The return train started at 10:00 am. It was a very subdued crowd of students that boarded the train. The prefects didn't have to patrol, as there were plenty of aurors to keep watch.

The eight friends sat quietly for over two hours, Ron and Henrietta carefully avoiding each other. They silently ate the boxed lunches Winky had packed, and the candy and cauldron and pumpkin cakes. Suddenly, Harry sat up. "You know something . . . I have an idea."

"You look tired, Albus."

"I am, Minerva, I am." He sighed as they walked into the Great Hall. "This war has barely started, and as always, the price is already too high."

"I know . . . I remember."

Dumbledore looked around. "Where are the students?" The students who had stayed over should be there at the very least.

Remus Lupin walked over. "Harry came in and called them all out to the entrance hall, then everyone was asked to leave."

McGonagall sniffed. "And I suppose all the staff and aurors just left them alone."

The four House ghosts drifted over. "We thought it wise to leave as well," Nick stated.

"Young Potter was most . . . forceful," the Baron declared happily. He decided he liked the boy, and only wished he'd been sorted into Slytherin.

"I have now been here the longest," the Friar stated, "over six hundred years now. I have seen perhaps five Seventh years who approached the pure presence I have just seen towards the end of their last year. You among them, Headmaster. I have never seen it in a Sixth year."

The rest of the staff and guests had drifted over. Some of the guests looked puzzled. "Do not discount Mister Potter," Flitwick stated.

At that moment, the doors of the room swung open, and the students came milling in. "I suggest we sit down and await developments," Dumbledore suggested.

Even as Dumbledore took his seat, he heard McGonagall hiss in surprise. Dumbledore looked up . . . and saw the problem. The remaining members of the upper three Slytherin classes were seated at the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor tables. At the Slytherin table sat the Seventh year Hufflepuffs, the Sixth year Gryffindors, and Fifth year Hufflepuffs.

Silence fell over the staff table while the remaining students took their seats. Harry adjusted his chair and simply looked up at Dumbledore, calm and collected. Dumbledore nodded, and Harry stood and walked over.

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"We, the upper classes, believe we should assist our fellow students. After tonight, each of the upper three years of Gryffindors will be alternating sitting with the Slytherins at dinner. Each morning, each of the upper three years of Hufflepuffs will alternate at breakfast. Each evening after dinner, the upper classes of Ravenclaws will provide at least three tutors to help the younger Slytherins."

"I see. Very commendable."

"I'll pass the word on, sir."

"No need, Harry." Dumbledore stood, and Harry walked back to his seat at the Slytherin table. "Welcome back," Dumbledore stated. "We are a school in mourning. We have lost nearly half of the top three years of Slytherin House. We have lost our Potions Master and Head of Slytherin." He paused. "We have not had such losses since April of 1981. We can only hope we will not suffer such a loss again in the near future. We must stick together in this time of pain and loss, or else we shall surely suffer all the more. I thank the upper years of all four Houses for their spirit of cooperation. Fifty points to each House."

Dumbledore sighed. "Professor Sinistra is the new Head of Slytherin. I would also like to introduce our new Potions Master, Professor Theodora Napitak, who trained at the Stoa in Greece and then went on to work for the Greek Ministry and then the International." The woman, small and dark, stood and bowed.

"I know you will work hard this term," Dumbledore said. "As an American statesman once said, 'we must hang together, otherwise, we shall certainly hang separately'."