RELATIONS

Chapter VIII

Wednesday, July 31, 1996

The Drs. Granger looked at the piece of black rope their daughter held in her hands. She'd told them about port keys, but they weren't sure they were ready to let their daughter simply disappear. They knew some of the stories of where her friend Harry had disappeared to. Granted, the idea of a port key wasn't as bad as watching their only child step into a roaring fire and disappear that way. Still, even leaving aside the issue of a Dark Wizard and his followers, when one's attractive daughter leaves for a summer visit where there will be an abundance of teenage boys, and one doesn't really understand how the leaving works or have any idea of where she is going. . . .

They also weren't sure if knowing about Edward Harold Potter made things easier or not. Hermione's father followed archeological theories and stories, and so knew the name Edward Harold very well. Dr. Granger had been surprised that Harold was part of his daughter's world, and was even more surprised at the recent revelations. Somehow, knowing a man who'd been on television was really a famous wizard fighting an evil wizard who was threatening your home and family made the whole thing even more real.

Hermione was looking at the clock. The port key was tuned for 11:05. She had her backpack on, filled with enough clothes to spend four nights away from home. Yielding to pleadings from Ron (aided by Edward Potter's promise that there was a library with thousands of books far in advance of those at Hogwarts to explore), Hermione hadn't packed any books to study. She had packed two of Edward Harold's books (Muggle and Magical editions) for him to sign for her father.

Other than her clothes and the two books, she only had her wand. Her invitation had been very clear -- the only present desired was her presence. Hermione had understood; what Harry had wanted more than anything was a family. Remus Lupin, the Weasleys, herself, and the late Sirius Black had partially fulfilled that need. Now, however, Harry had a cousin and a heritage to show off. She was ready to let him.

"See you Sunday at. . . ." Hermione felt the tug of the port key, and disappeared before she could finish. She wondered if it was her watch or the port key that was nearly a minute off.

She appeared on the grass verge of a very old looking road. Hermione recognized the construction as Roman. The air was cooler, yet the sky less cloudy, than her home south-west of Cambridge. Turning around, she saw she was a few dozen meters from what was obviously a gatekeeper's cottage. A more standard two lane road was perhaps 20 meters beyond a gate and fence on the far side of the cottage.

A pleasant-looking woman was watching her. She held out a rolled-up scroll. "Name please?" Hermione noticed there were five other people now surrounding her who didn't look quite as pleasant, two with wands and two with shotguns. "Hermione Granger."

"Please touch the scroll with your wand while saying your name and keeping a hold on your port key with your other hand." Hermione hesitated. "Don't worry, dear; you won't get a notice about underage magic."

Hermione shrugged and did as she was told. This time, she reappeared near a smaller cottage, and was surrounded by woods.

"Hermione! Welcome!"

Hermione smiled, and hurried to greet one of her favorite professors. As pleased as she'd been about her O.W.L.s, she'd been made even happier when she saw the notice attached to them stating that he would be returning to Hogwarts. "Professor Lupin!"

"It's still just Remus here, Hermione," he said, shaking her hand. "Ready to move on to the party?"

"Where is the party?" Hermione asked.

"You have the rare privilege to be deep inside the middle circle of Potter Place. I'm sending you to a crossing between the middle and inner circles. The actual party is in the middle circle, but you, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna Lovegood will be staying at Potter Place itself. Don't mention that to anyone else. Now, why don't you go before the next group port-keys in?" He held out another scroll.

Hermione smiled. "Alright." She repeated her previous actions.

And landed near a bridge.

"Harry!" She would have moved to hug him, except she recognized the pure Saxon stone bridge behind him as a perfect example of its kind. She stared at it for a moment.

"Hi, Hermione! There are still a few people coming, so why don't you leave your knapsack here and go over to the pavilion. I'll be there in twenty minutes at the most."

"Alright. . . ." she said, not moving. She never seen such a wonderful specimen, but she wasn't sure what the inscriptions said.

"Hermione, if you don't move in some direction, someone will land on you," Harry teased.

"Oh! Right!"

Hermione finally gave Harry a hug, and hurried over to the pavilion. The woods were thinner here than around Lupin's cottage. Hermione could see the pavilion was simply a log roof over an open area on three sides. She guessed (rightly) that the enclosed area had restrooms and an area for food preparation.

Hermione recognized nearly everyone, which was hardly surprising. Hagrid and Madame Maxime were hard to miss. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, and Madams Pomfrey and Hooch, were sitting at a table, enjoying the cool breeze and the shade. Neville, Seamus, and Dean were standing around another table that obviously held trays of food. George and Fred Weasley were lurking nearby, probably hoping to hex the food. Eight other members of Harry's DA group were milling about, looking at Harry's birthday cake. Luna was apparently finding something interesting about one of the trees. 'At least she's not talking to it,' Hermione thought, rather uncharitably.

Three other people were standing closer, however. The woman was obviously a Weasley, and Hermione guessed the third person was Hugh Johnson, the quarter giant. The other man was already walking towards her, and there was even less doubt about who he was.

"Ms Granger!"

"Dr. Potter, thank you for allowing me. . . ."

"Nonsense! We just need a few more Weasleys, and we can start the party."

"Ron and Ginny, you mean?"

"And Arthur and Molly. Had to pull a few strings to get Arthur some time off."

"I take it all these steps are some sort of security precaution?"

"Exactly," Edward agreed. "I am the only person that can Apparate into what we call the middle circle, although Harry should be able to next year. We are also the only people who can create a port key to this area as well. Right now, there are just four people who can enter Potter Place itself, and two of the others are conditional."

"So Harry would have been safer there than at the Dursleys?"

"Possibly," Edward said with a shrug. "At least as safe, shall we say. However, growing up with fawning elves and family retainers would hardly had prepared Harry for the kind of life he's had to lead."

"I don't think he'd ever have turned into a Malfoy," Hermione protested, somewhat offended.

"True, but Dumbledore didn't know that fifteen years ago." He shrugged again. "Even though I never thought much of Vernon or Petunia, I never thought they'd turn out as bad as they have. But today, we start making new memories for Harry. Right?"

She smiled. "Right." Her smiled grew even bigger as she heard Ron and Ginny arrive.

After the party had been going on for nearly an hour, Remus arrived, with a blonde witch following him.

"What's she doing here?" Hermione asked before anyone else could.

It was Rita Skeeter.

Edward motioned Hermione, Harry, Luna, and Carole to join him in meeting the unlikely pair. "Ms Skeeter is in need of employment. I find my self in need of a . . . publicist."

"A what?" Carole asked.

"Some one to help with your public relations?" Hermione queried. "What do you need. . . ."

"Going to try and ruin this for me, too," Skeeter complained.

Edward addressed Hermione. "Ms Skeeter is, as I've been told you know, an unregistered animagus, and most recently famous for her poison quill. Since you are using the first to prevent her from using the second, she has met with some hard times."

"You didn't think of that, did you, or didn't you care?" Rita snipped.

"Now, now, don't be harsh," Edward reproved. "Ms Granger is a very brilliant young woman, but you can hardly imagine that she'd think things like that through in the case of a person who insulted her and hurt her and her friends."

"I try to think everything through," Hermione protested. "Name one time. . . ."

Harry leaned past Luna and whispered in her ear, "None of the house elves will clean Gryffindor Tower anymore, because you kept leaving those caps around, even though you should have known they wouldn't like it. I mean, you don't own them, so the caps wouldn't free them anyway; they just felt insulted. Dobby had to do all the work." Hermione flushed, and was quiet.

"Don't feel upset," Edward told her, "with yourself or anyone else. Now, Ms. Skeeter is going back to work, minus her Quick Quotes Quill I might add! Her job is, in part, to make certain the real story gets out -- The Daily Prophet isn't to be relied upon to care about anything except its bottom line. We'll be feeding her information, and she'll be funneling information back to us. Nothing secret, of course, but there are a lot of sources out there that she can tap into with ease."

"And what does she get out of it?" Hermione asked.

"A paycheck from me as well as any journal who picks up her work, and legalization of her animagus status after the War," Edward said. "And, when everything's over, some status as a serious journalist again."

"Again?"

"She started off as a well-known court reporter," Carole told them.

"It was a good job, but as soon as the trials were over in late Eighty-two, we were all let go," Rita murmured. "Any objections?" she asked Hermione more forcibly.

"No, no I guess not."

"Daddy's started a subscription newsletter," Luna told them in the pause that followed. "There are some other reporters who will be by-passing The Prophet, too. The truth will be out there." She smiled in her absent way. "That's going to be the name -- The Truth -- and the motto is 'The Truth is Out There.'"

"Do you watch Muggle television?" Hermione demanded, which made Harry give a small snort.

"Not much, why?"

"That's the theme of a new Muggle show from America, about a government agent who tries to prove there are space aliens."*

"Of course there are 'space aliens'," Luna said, puzzled. "Why would that be interesting?"

No one wanted to pursue that question. Rita went around, gathering information about Professor Umbridge and her abuses at Hogwarts.

"Do you really trust her?" Hermione asked.

"Of course! But only because she does know it's in her own best interests. If it weren't, I wouldn't trust her an inch!" Edward assured her.

"We all are simply who were are," Luna said. "That's who she really is."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Did you and your father go to Sweden yet? Find any Crumpled-Horn Snorkacks?"

"We came back two weeks ago," Luna said. "And no, not a Crumpled-Horn among them. Maybe we'll try Lappland again next summer."

Hermione shook her head as if to clear it, and went over to get a butterbeer, keeping an eye on Skeeter the whole time.

"She's an interesting one," Edward said to Remus a few moments later, when they were alone.

"Which one?" Remus asked, amused.

"Well, Hermione is very bright, but I meant Luna. Nobody mentioned her to me before Harry asked her to the party and to stay over."

"I gather they met sometime this past year. She was in Harry's DA group, and somehow went with them to the Ministry." Remus thought a moment. "That in itself must have formed a real bond between the six of them."

"True. Is she always so. . . ."

"Off-the-wall honest? Yes, I think so. She wasn't nearly so eccentric at the beginning of her Second year, but she became more and more erratic that whole year, at least in terms of her dress." Today, Luna was wearing a long light green dress with an aqua jumper tied around her neck. She wore a long royal purple sock and a pink sandal on her right foot, and an orange sock of equal length and a medium blue sandal on her left. She was wearing mismatched pewter earrings -- a lion and a raven. "I asked Filius if she was color-blind -- I thought she might just be getting mixed up, which would no doubt amuse most of her fellow students, but it turns out her dorm mates were hiding some of her clothes and charming the colors to mismatch."

"So rather than fight, she just pushed along into eccentricity?"

"In part. She saw her mother die six years ago -- Lori Lovegood, if you remember her."

Edward thought hard. "That's right, she was a charm builder, worked part-time for the Department of Mysteries. Something went wrong with one of her experimental charms and she died." Edward looked at the girl Harry was giving some ice cream to. "And she saw that?" Hermione was trying to distract Harry for some reason.

Remus nodded. "She's very smart, even for a Ravenclaw." The pair started moving back towards Harry -- Luna and Hermione seemed to be nearly arguing. "There's something else about her, though; something really special."

Edward smiled. "That's good to know!" The two girls had stopped their discussion, and Carole was lighting the birthday cake.

Most of the crowd left a little after 3:00. Remus said he was staying to supervise the elves cleaning up. Hermione was very displeased to see that the six elves were all wearing tea-towels. Granted, they all looked as happy as the Hogwarts elves, but she was still disturbed by it.

The five visitors approached the bridge, but Edward stopped them before they could step on it. Hermione and Ron were the closest, Luna and Neville the furthest from it.

"This bridge marks the start of the inner area of Potter Place. Only a true Potter male can have access to it without risking real damage. Even for us, a ritual is necessary." Edward produced a small needle, and pricked the heel of his thumb. He wiped a drop of blood on the low stone pillar that marked end of the bridge. "I, Edward Potter, swear that I am a Potter, true in thought as well as blood." The blood disappeared. Harry did the same, but took the blood from his thumb. Carole drew blood, but swore, "I swear my heart to the House of Potter." While Edward and Carole healed the tiny wounds, Harry said a spell that kept his unsealed.

"So," Edward asked with a grin, "who's first?"

While the others looked at each other, Luna ambled to the front. She extended her right hand to Harry, her pop eyes keeping contact with his, while Edward told her what to say and when to say it. Harry hesitated to prick the heel of her hand.

"It's okay, Harry," Luna said softly, "I know I can trust you." She again laid her hand in Harry's.

Harry jabbed the base of her thumb, mixed his blood with hers, and said, "I, Harry Potter, swear Luna Lovegood is a friend to the House of Potter."

Luna wiped the mixed blood on the stone, and saw that it was partially absorbed. "I, Luna Lovegood, am a friend to the House of Potter." She stuck the wound in her mouth, and as soon as the blood disappeared, she walked on to the bridge. As each teen did the same, they felt the power they were walking through. (Ron, the last to go, teased Harry by mimicking Luna voice, "Oh, Harry, I know you won't hurt me!" Harry jabbed Ron's more sensitive thumb hard to retaliate.) As they crossed the bridge, the power felt stronger, although they quickly grew used to it.

"Unless you can freely swear, you can't cross," Edward told them. "Not even the Imperius curse would allow anyone over here."

"Why not do the same at Hogwarts or the Ministry?" Ron asked.

"Whose blood could you use?" Hermione asked. "It's real blood magic, isn't it?"

"Exactly! Well spotted. Remind me to give you a point in September. Blood magic, especially when it's been in place for over a thousand years, is incredibly powerful. Harry would have been as physically safe here as with the Dursleys, but he really would have been more confined to this part of the estate than he should have been there. And the elves and other retainers would probably have spoiled him rotten."

"Really?" Ginny asked. "I can't imagine Harry spoiled!"

"Not to the extent of young Malfoy, from what I hear, let alone Dudley," Edward agreed, "but remember, the rest of the family was killed off. Harry would have been everyone's little jewel."

Ginny, Luna, and Ron each gave a small snort at that.

"How big is the island?" Luna asked.

"Island?" Ron demanded. "Who said it's an island?"

"Water makes a powerful barrier," Luna said simply.

"Another point for the autumn!" Edward said, stopping to talk. "The island is a mile and a half long, and a mile wide. Don't try crossing the water itself, just the bridges. The spell will last a week, unless you do something to break the oath of friendship, although if you do cross, you'll have to shed a drop of blood to return."

Edward paused, then went on. "The middle area is about seven miles long by three and a half wide. The estate is some fifteen miles long by nine miles wide. We're technically approaching the back of the Castle. You'll see it right through these trees."

And it was a castle, although nowhere near the size of Hogwarts. It had four rounded corners, with turrets. It looked to be some six storeys tall, with the turrets adding two more floors before the battlements.

"These back two towers are residential. Harry has the left, we have the right," Edward said as they approached the small back gate. "The public rooms are all in the front of course. The kitchens are in the first cellar levels on the right."

"Is this Roman or Romanesque?" Hermione asked.

"The construction was all in the late Romanesque period, but you're right, much of the style is genuine Roman," Edward acknowledged. "The magical builders still knew some of the older techniques."

The back gate opened at Edward's touch. "This will only open for Harry, Carole, and myself. Like access to the island itself, you can open the front gate for a week."

The corridor they entered was wide and fairly high. Magical torches, as at Hogwarts, were set along the walls, although enough light filtered in from windows facing the courtyard they didn't need to be lit yet.

While the architecture was of course medieval, as were the furnishing at and above eye-level (torches and a few tapestries along the long corridor), below that it looked more Victorian, with shelves and small tables filled with odds and ends, as well as flower arrangements.

"None of these things are likely dangerous. There are rooms and corridors upstairs that are off-limits. For that, we have these."

"Maps?" Ron asked. "Like the . . . one. . . ." Ron stopped, not remembering if Luna and Neville knew about the Marauders' Map.

"That's what gave Sirius and James the basic idea, although they recreated some of the spells and charms and created a number of others. These need another drop of blood to activate. As long as they don't leave the island, yours will reactivate any time you touch it."

"What exactly can it do?" Ron asked.

"Once it's activated, it points out exactly where you are, on the island or in the castle, and if you're allowed to go on. Again, not every area is open to you. You can get into some areas if Harry gives you permission, and go into others if Harry is with you. For the others, you would need me."

"Why don't we give them a demonstration, dear?" Carole asked.

Edward smiled. "And I know just where we can go!"

"Was one of your ancestors a vampire?" Ron complained, holding his hand out.

That made all the group smile, except one. "We're all ready to shed our blood for Harry," Luna said seriously. "That's the basis of positive blood magic, isn't it?"

"I never thought of it that way," Hermione mused, as Harry pricked her, "but you're right."

"As you can tell, most of the castle was heavily redecorated in Victorian times," Edward said a few moments later, playing tour guide as they went up to the second floor of his side of the castle. "This sort of display was more popular in Muggle homes, but not unknown in wizarding ones."

The group swept into a large room that stretched the full width of the storey and perhaps a 1/5 of its length. "A trophy room!" Hermione declared.

It was indeed. That floor was marked as 'private,' the lowest security zone other than 'open'. The outside and two other walls were covered with mounted heads. There were also stuffed animals and display cases set up around the room. The courtyard wall was mostly windows.

"Take a look at the head mounted about a third of the way along the far wall," Edward said.

The group looked. "A Crumpled-Horn Snorkack!" Luna cried out happily, rushing towards it.

"It's a pair of reindeer," Hermione stated, as she approached.

"No, the one on the left is the Crumpled-Horn Snorkack," Luna declared.

"So it is," Neville agreed. "I always thought they were a legend."

The other four teens, and Carole, goggled.

"That's what the plaque says," Ginny commented as she took a closer look, a bit in shock. "That little twist in the one prong makes it a Crumpled-Horn?"

"Yes, that's the sign it's a Snorkack, not a regular reindeer," Edward said. "If Binns ever taught history correctly, you might be encouraged to learn about magical legends. You know," he added seriously, "that's the one complaint the Pure-blood types have some basis for making. In the last century and a half, as we have found all the Muggle-borns of sufficient power, and as more of us make mixed-marriages, many of the old stories die out. It's too bad; we need an introductory course on magical culture for First years, or something."

"That would be great," Hermione agreed.

"I wonder why we never heard of the Snorkacks?" Ginny wondered.

"Shall I tell you the legend, and the basis for it?" Edward asked.

"Please!" Luna almost begged. "I've heard of the Crumpled-Horn Snorkack for years, but never heard the legend!"

Edward smiled, and summoned quill and parchment. "Let me tell it like an article. We'll get a Muggle photo of the two reindeer, and we'll let your father print it."

Luna smiled ecstatically, and sat down on Harry's feet, gazing at Edward almost with worship. Ginny and Neville snorted, but sat down to their left. Harry backed off a bit, and sat down beside Luna. Hermione and Ron stood, mostly looking at the two heads.

Only Carole noticed that the three had made themselves into couples, and that the three girls slowly leaned against their partners, while the three boys then leaned towards them.

Crumpled-Horn Snorkacks are a very rare type of magical reindeer, or caribou, now believed extinct. Most of the year, it appears no different than regular reindeer, except that they cannot be enchanted by magical herders. In the two weeks leading up to the winter solstice, one prong on either antler will develop a temporary drooping twist, giving the beast its name. In the two weeks after each solstice, however, their real magical power appears, the power to fly.

This of course connects them with the Muggle legends of Father Christmas, Santa Claus, Grandfather Frost, etc. In several Northern European cultures (and later Canada and the United States) Muggle-born children were told of their magical heritage on either Christmas or New Year's Eve by wizards who flew from place to place in sleds pulled by either the rare Crumpled-Horn Snorkacks or their enchanted reindeer relations. Squibs and Muggle-borns with weak powers could see them as well, and so the myths were born. The practice was never wide-spread, but lasted from at least the late 1500s through the early 1920s, when Kris Kringle, who notified Muggle-borns in the vast spaces of the American and Canadian west using enchanted reindeer, retired at age 132, because of the increase in Muggle airplane traffic. (The last European who made such deliveries, Ivana Popova, had actually been shot at by Soviet aircraft near the Urals in 1921, the last year she flew.)

The last verified sighting of a Crumple-Horn in Europe was in 1848 in Lappland. The last in North America (1902) was in the Yukon.

"So that's why they aren't in our text book," Hermione mused.

"And why we never found one in the summer!" Luna almost wailed.

"But why didn't we know about it, I wonder?" Ron asked. Carole didn't answer, but suspected that the poverty-stricken Weasleys of the earlier periods didn't dwell on legends of Father Christmas.

After a tour of the castle, the teens gathered at the sitting room of Harry's tower. A small feast was laid out, and they attacked it with relish.

Harry showed them their rooms -- there were six bedrooms (each with a toilet and sink in a closet) two bathrooms, and a study on the first turret level. Harry's bedroom (with attached bath and dressing room), another bedroom, bath, and a study were on the top turret floor. The battlements were also accessible.

The teens went to their rooms to unpack, but all six were in the guest study a little after 8:00.

"It's still early," Harry said. "Anyone want to do . . . anything?" He had never had the chance to play host before.

"Can we raid the kitchen?" Ron asked.

"We had a huge birthday picnic and a near feast!" Hermione exclaimed. "How can you still be hungry?"

"Just a thought. . . ." Ron muttered.

"I'm going to go look for fwoopers," Luna said. She stood and held out her hand towards Harry. "Want to come along?"

"There are no fwoopers around here!" Hermione stated.

"Won't know until we look," Luna said simply, letting Harry grasp her hand.

Ginny stood up and pulled Neville up with her. "If there aren't any, we can still look at the stars when they come out."

"It was clouding up when we came in," Hermione said, bewildered, wondering what was wrong with everyone.

Neville stared at his hand, still being firmly held by Ginny. "Can we look at the clouds then?"

That floored Hermione. Harry and Ginny rolled their eyes at Hermione. Ron got up and walked over to Hermione. He held out his hand. "Come on, let's go look for fwoopers, or clouds that look like fwoopers."

Hermione suddenly noticed the other two couples, ('Couples,' she thought, 'when did they become couples?') and then Ron, holding out his hand. She flushed, but stood and bravely said, "Alright, Luna, we'll look for fwoopers." She took Ron's hand for the first time in front of Harry. Obviously, Harry wasn't going to mind as much as they had feared.

"You can never go wrong, looking for fwoopers," Luna said serenely. "Even when they're not there, you can always find something else worth seeing."

"That's cute," Carole said. Edward had called her over to the window, and they watched the couples walk through the courtyard towards the front of the castle.

"Even better, it's normal," Edward said. When his wife gave him a questioning look, he went on, "He's been under incredible stress for more than a year and a half, and he carries a burden greater than any one person, let alone a sixteen year old, should carry. He's lost Sirius, learned that his father could be a prick on occasion, was tortured by a teacher, and discovered that Dumbledore makes major errors. After all that, if he can hold a girl's hand and smile like that, instead of pounding his head against the wall, I'm happy."

"He still needs to decompress," Carole agreed. "Do you think we can protect him this year?"

"Not totally," Edward had to admit. "But we're going to try, right?"

"Right!"