Harry Potter and the Professor's Perils

1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter

and the Professor's Perils

by

Heather Sinclair

Heather@buffysboudoir.com

Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix, Sacrifices to be Made

Pairings: H/Hr, R/Luna

Rating: PG-13 Parents Strongly Cautioned.
This story contains some material that many parents would find unsuitable for children under 13 years of age. Parents are strongly urged to exercise greater care in, and are cautioned against letting children under the age of 13 read this story unattended. This story contains one or more of the following: intense violence, intense sexual situations, strong coarse language, or intensely suggestive dialogue.

Disclaimer: This story, and any content relating to the Harry Potter franchise is not authorized by J.K. Rowling, or Scholastic Press. I own my computer ... Can I have Harry and Hermione instead?

Read the story in the author's intended format at

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HSHPFF/

Fonts: This story is best viewed with the following fonts: "Harry P", and "Lumos". They can be found at Mugglenet.com in the downloads section. The story is written in "Garamond".

Chapter One

Without news from anything but the Muggle world for the last month, Harry breathed in a sigh of relief when he Apparated outside the gates of Hogwarts. According to a letter addressed to him by Albus Dumbledore, Harry was to arrive no later than July 21, for a proper introduction and orientation to the role of full Professor by the Deputy Headmaster.

Harry brought with him his old school trunk with the Gryffindor emblem displayed proudly on the side, which was currently following him, floating only a few feet behind. He was surprised at how quiet the entire area was compared to the hustle and bustle of a normal school day.

He approached the front steps of the castle and noticed the large doors, that were normally closed, stood wide, letting the cool breeze of the mild summer day into the main halls. He stepped in and didn't find anyone mulling about. Although he wasn't expecting anybody to greet him, it was still kind of disappointing nonetheless.

Harry set up the marble staircase, turned down a corridor to Professor McGonagall's office and was pleasantly surprised to find her behind the desk with a vast amount of paperwork to keep her busy.

She looked up at the first sign of movement into her office. "Harry," she smiled, which in and of itself was somewhat strange. Minerva McGonagall was nothing if she wasn't prim and proper. "Wonderful to see you. How was your holiday?"

He motioned his trunk down by the outside of the door. "It was wonderful, Professor. Thank you."

She held a hand out to the seat in front of her desk. "Sit down, Harry, and we are past the student/teacher relationship. Please call me Minerva while we are not in front of the students."

Harry nodded, although he didn't think that would be possible, at least not so soon. "Yes, Ma'am."

Once he had taken a seat she handed over a heavy satchel; it was old leather and cracked in various places from use. "Inside you'll find all of the answers to any questions that you might have regarding your position as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Please give it a look over before asking any questions at the monthly staff meetings, you'll save yourself a lot of embarrassing situations."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She smiled at his address. "Minerva, Harry."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She shook her head in defeat. "I will show you your rooms presently. I assume that you and Hermione are still married?"

Harry laughed at that. "Yes, Ma'am."

She nodded. "Very good. This leads to my next question. Before quarters are assigned I would like to make a request of you."

He leaned forward in his chair, attentively, and McGonagall continued. "With my duties as Deputy Headmistress, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House ... well, the problem is ..."

Harry could see she was becoming quite uncomfortable. "Is something wrong Professor?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "The night ... that woman sought to sack Hagrid, I was attacked with four stunners."

Harry remembered the night very well. His fifth year, during his Astronomy O.W.L. Delores Umbridge thought she would force the Half-Giant off the school grounds, possibly to Azkaban, and McGonagall had come to his rescue, much to her regret as the Inquisitorial Squad, consisting of Malfoy and his goons had attacked her without warning, resulting with her admittance to St. Mungo's for treatment and recuperation. She wasn't a spring chicken anymore and Hermione was even surprised that the attack hadn't killed her outright.

"I remember."

She nodded. "Needless to say, at my age, that was a little more than I was apparently prepared to take." She paused again. "It wasn't apparent to the student body, last year, but I have suffered some ill effects from that night, and as a result, have decided, with the headmaster's permission, to lighten my work load to relieve the amount of stress that has been accumulating."

Harry's eyes showed his concern.

"Oh, don't look at me that way, Potter. I'm in perfect health ... well for my age. But I will ask a favor of you."

He smiled at the use of his last name, it was almost like old times. "Yes, Ma'am."

"I want you to take over as Head of Gryffindor House."

Harry blinked. "Um ..."

"Your duties will be increased, of course. Your quarters will be near the entrance to the Gryffindor common room and you will have to be available to the students round the clock, writing letters to parents, counseling, and so forth."

He was still shocked and his face showed it.

"Well? Will you accept the position?"

"Um ... yes, Ma'am."

McGonagall visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Harry. It will make my job so much easier."

She stood up abruptly and smoothed out her robes. "Grab a hold of your trunk, and I'll show you your new rooms."

They walked to the base of Gryffindor tower at the portrait of Nemore the Nog.

All of the towers have a much quicker access and are all keyed to the same password." She faced the portrait, "Blowing gum Poppers."

The portrait swung open revealing a set of stairs very similar to the headmaster's. They stepped on and were lifted in a spiraling pattern up to the seventh floor and exited from behind a large suit of armor that stepped back after they cleared. Harry noticed he was only a few steps away from the portrait of the Fat Lady, and across from the newly moved portrait of the Thin Lady.

"She's requested to guard your rooms, specifically, Harry."

"Hello," he greeted the Thin Lady.

"Good day, Professor Potter. I hope your holiday was satisfactory?"

"Yes it was, Thank you," he replied.

She nodded, "Would you care to change your password for the new session?"

Harry thought on it for the moment. "Um ... no thank you. I think last term's password is good."

"Very well, password, please."

He looked to McGonagall and smiled, "Snape's a git."

The Thin Lady grinned back. "Of course he is," and swung open to reveal his and Hermione's new rooms."

What greeted him was much like the rooms he had before as Assistant Professor, but much larger. The study clearly was twice it's size, but also contained a number of file cabinets labeled with: Years one through seven, Forms, Disciplines, Quidditch, Confiscated Items, and a sundry other miscellaneous titles.

"You will find detailed files on all of the Gryffindor's including the newest arrivals for Autumn term, as well as the necessary forms for different actions you are required to take as Head of House. Detailed record must be kept, Harry."

He nodded.

"In this drawer is information regarding past Quidditch playbooks, members, and assigned positions. You will be picking the new Captain so choose wisely. I may not be Head anymore, but that does not mean I will not be paying close attention to the goings on of my house."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Harry never realized how much responsibility McGonagall had until it was given to him.

"You will also need to peruse the library or Flourish & Blotts for the required textbooks to be assigned to your students. I expect a list on my desk no later than this Wednesday."

Again, he nodded.

"The Headmaster wishes your recommendation for Prefects and Head Girl and Boy as soon as possible."

His brow wrinkled. "I thought that he made those type of decisions?"

She nodded. "He does, but not without recommendations from each Head of House. I've never known him to ever go against our wishes for prefect assignments, and he always chooses from the list of recommended Head Boys and Girls. Keep in mind their duties and whether or not you think he or she will be able to handle the additional workload."

Harry had already knew who he was going to recommend and hoped that they were the proper choices.

"Let's see the rest of the rooms, shall we?"

There was one addition to their rooms that wasn't in his last set ... a living area furnished with an elegant couch, and two squashy armchairs sitting in front of a large fireplace which was currently not in use.

"Your fireplace is connected to the Floo Network for calls and transportation."

He noticed an empty bookshelf that he knew would be very full, very soon. Hermione had already began to accumulate a number of books with her access to their family vault.

"And in here are your bedrooms and private bath."

"Private?" asked Harry. "Hermione will love that."

McGonagall smiled. "I'm sure she will."

Harry marveled at just how nice everything was and counted it off as compensation for living at school during term.

"Any questions so far?"

He shook his head. "No, Ma'am. Thank you for showing me around."

"You are welcome, Harry. If you do require anything further, please call upon me." She headed out through the study and pushed open the portrait. "Oh, I've nearly forgotten. The Headmaster will want a meeting with you sometime today. The password is 'Whizbang' and please pay attention to the 'Important Details' parchment in your class satchel."

Harry looked down at his hand still clutching the heavy satchel and walked over to set it on his desk and looked over to his trunk. He pulled out his wand and said, "Locomotor Trunk!"

Steering it toward the bedroom he set it down and unpacked his, now vast, wardrobe to store away. He had, long ago, enchanted the trunk to hold much more than its dimensions and it took him most of the morning to place everything in it's proper room.

Once that was out of the way he stored the trunk and proceeded to his study to see exactly what McGonagall had left him in the mysterious weathered satchel. The clasp holding it closed was simple and non-magical, but the insides were anything but.

He removed stacks of parchment which contained sample and intricate lesson plans, schedules for meetings, classes, holidays, special events, etc. a number of very nice quills and blank parchment as well as spare bottles of ink.

He tacked the schedules on the corkboard behind the desk and separated the incidentals into their various places in and on the desk. He found the 'Important Details' list that McGonagall spoke of and noticed listings of his course books as well as the Prefect, Head Boy and Head Girl, recommendations at the top.

Hermione had already given him a list of the latest books as a recommendation, so he was already ahead of the game in that respect, and his course lessons were revised and prepared from last year. He would use those to submit for his classes, and after only a few minutes with a quill and blank piece of parchment he noted his recommendations for the positions he was required to make.

"That wasn't so hard," he noted.

He heard a tapping at his bedroom window and got up to find Hedwig sitting patiently on the sill. After letting her in and untying the letter from her leg he stepped aside.

"Hello, girl," said Harry as he smoothed back the feathers on her head. "is Hermione bored already?"

Hedwig nipped at his hand affectionately.

"I've set up your perch over there. Your treats are in the tray."

Hedwig noted where he pointed and blinked lovingly at him before swooping off to partake of some water and food.

Harry-

It is extremely boring, here in France, without you and I have decided to take Dumbledore up on his offer and begin my research at Hogwarts. I should arrive by lunchtime instead of the end of the week as we had previously arranged. My shopping is mostly complete and anything else I need can be arranged through Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.

I know it's only been a few hours, but I miss your body next to mine and cannot think of a reason not to be beside you at this exact moment.

With all my love,

Hermione

He looked at his watch and noted the time. "She should be here in about an hour, Hedwig."

The snowy white owl blinked at him and then settled her head under her wing for some sleep.

"Well I guess I can get the meeting with Dumbledore over with."

He left the window to the bedroom open to freshen up the room and set off to the headmaster's office.

2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The Gargoyle stepped aside and the hidden door opened showing the spiral staircase which lead to the Headmaster's office. When he arrived at the top, outside of the office door he heard voices from within ... one voice really ... Snape's voice.

"Headmaster, you cannot think that Potter will not ..."

"Professor Potter, Severus."

Harry almost laughed out loud at the correction and how many times he had been chastised for the exact same thing. He could almost hear Snape's teeth grind.

"You cannot think that he won't favor Gryffindor with hundreds of house points and take away as many as he can from Slytherin just to spite me!"

Harry chose that moment to open the door. "I'll favor Gryffindor only as much as you favor Slytherin, Professor."

Snape stared daggers at him and Harry almost laughed it away. "Hello, Professor Dumbledore."

The headmaster stood and smiled. "Welcome, Harry. I hope your 'official' honeymoon was pleasant."

Harry entered the room. "It was, thank you, Sir." After a moment. "Minerva, asked me to drop off these recommendations to you and said you wanted to speak with me."

He nodded. "Quite right. Have a seat, please. That will be all, Severus."

A swish of black cloak and a strong smell of body odor later and they were alone.

Dumbledore leaned forward and entertained his fingers. "I trust you will keep to your word regarding the awarding and withdrawing of house points, Harry.

"You know I'm fair, Sir."

He nodded and reviewed the recommendations. "I approve your prefect choices and will take into consideration your choices for Heads."

The headmaster leaned back into his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "Minerva says that you have accepted the role as Head of House for Gryffindor."

"Yes, Sir."

"Very good. If you have any questions regarding counseling feel free to visit me."

Harry smiled in appreciation. "Thank you, Sir."

Dumbledore's look became a tad bit serious for a moment. "Harry, I have one bit of advice for you, which you are entitled to disregard, but I hope you will take to heart."

Harry sat forward slightly.

"You will no doubt be approached by your friends for ... 'favors' as Head of House. I will warn you ahead of time to consider those very carefully before granting any. For it will reflect on you and on the school as well."

Harry turned serious with him. "I wouldn't do anything to embarrass you sir."

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I am more than capable of embarrassing myself, Harry. You on the other hand are a leader and a hero of the wizarding world. As such, I am sure I don't have to tell, you will command respect and distain, but none of these things matter when you command the ability to help our young to grow in their knowledge and spirit. Lead them well, Harry and they will follow you through the gates of hell itself."

Harry considered the comments. "Thank you for your advice, Sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "That is all, Harry. I just wanted to make sure you were settling in well."

Harry stood with the headmaster. "Yes, Sir."

"Very good," he paused. "I hear tell, Hermione will be joining us in due time.

Harry looked at his watch. "About thirty minutes sir. I'm going to meet her at the gates.

Dumbledore's eyes lit up. "Very good. Please relay that the third floor corridor has been prepared for her research and we are very glad to have her ... well I suppose I could relay my own comments at lunch then."

Harry smiled and stepped on the spiral staircase. "See you at lunch, Sir."

He took off at a slow trot down the hall to meet Hermione at the gates of the school in time and was pleasantly surprised to find her Apparating back and forth to bring along her many trunks of supplies and books that she would need for her research. When she Apparated for the last time, it had been thirty minutes to the moment and she smiled brightly and jumped into Harry's arms.

"I missed you so much!" she said as she planted kisses all over his face ending lastly on his lips.

Harry laughed throughout. "Hermione, it's only been five hours."

She looked almost in despair. "I know, can you believe it. It's felt like five days."

He looked poignantly to the number of trunks. "Bring the whole house?"

She shrugged with a dry look on her face. "If you would have enchanted these trunks like you did yours, then it wouldn't have been such a problem."

Harry laughed out loud. "I did enchant them!"

"Oh, that's right ... well I guess I did bring the whole house then," she smiled devilishly. "These are my supplies."

Harry took out his wand. "Locomotor Trunks!"

They walked along to the castle in conversation.

"All unpacked?" she asked.

He nodded. "And already at work. Minerva has gotten me submitting choices for prefects and head boy and girl, plus the books which you nicely supplied me with."

It was then that he noticed that she wasn't with him anymore. He stopped and looked back. "What?"

"You're Head of House?" she asked astonished.

Harry nodded. "Minerva said that she still wasn't over the whole stunning thing with Umbridge from fifth-year. Needed to take a load off or something."

Hermione caught up with him. "Harry, that's an enormous responsibility!"

He shrugged. "It's no big deal. Once you get away from the start of year it's mostly talking to students which I do, already."

She linked her arm in his. "So who did you pick for prefects?"

"Ginny, of course, and Chris Yeats."

She thought on it for a moment. "The boy who asked you for you autograph in front of your fourth-year class?"

Harry smirked. "With stones like that I know he won't have a problem confronting the upperclassmen."

She nodded. "How about Head Girl and Boy?"

"I would have put Ron, but I think he's had his taste of power as a prefect and didn't like it much. So I suggested ..."

"There you both are," yelled Hagrid as he was coming out of his hut.

Harry and Hermione waved and they all met up at the entrance to the castle.

"It's good ter see you two again. Had a good holiday, did yeh?"

Hermione smiled wide. "It was wonderful, Hagrid. Harry and I had the best time."

The half-Giant almost blushed. "Bet yeh did."

Hermione covered her mouth. "Hagrid, really!"

Harry and Hagrid laughed until they reached the Great Hall where he opened the door for his wife, and for Hagrid. The large man opened the other door as well because he was much too big to fit thought only one.

In the middle of the Hall sat a circular table with a number of seats already filled, but only with the main portion of the staff. Dumbledore waved them in. "Come, come. We were just beginning lunch."

Harry set the numerous trunks on the floor beside the door and followed his wife to the table, holding out her chair for her in the process.

She smiled back at him with a silent, 'thank you.'

Dumbledore started off with, "Hermione I hope you enjoyed your holiday?"

Hermione tried not to seem as enthusiastic with her answer as she was with Hagrid. "Yes, Professor. It was very pleasant, thank you."

He chuckled knowingly and Hermione blushed nonetheless. "I see you have brought your supplies with you."

Heads turned to the many trunks beside the door.

"Yes, Sir. I wanted to get started straight away."

Professor Sprout apparently took a keen interest. "Albus has been so secretive, Hermione. What are you researching?"

Hermione smiled. "Well, I suppose it you all can keep a secret. Do you mind, Professor."

He nodded. "Not at all, but just a reminder, we have all graduated Hogwarts and are not on with titles when we are not in front of the students. My name is Albus."

She grinned at the informality. "Yes, Sir."

McGonagall huffed. "She just as bad as Potter, Albus. Pay them no mind."

Hermione continued with her explanation. "After branching out with the various forms of magic, I am exploring the possibilities of combining certain fields with others to create an entirely new form."

"You are joking," Snape said dryly.

She smiled back. "No, Severus, I'm not."

He almost recoiled at the use of his first name from someone so young. His eyes thinned and he batted a hand in the air. "The fields of magic have been the same for thousands of years. There are no new magics and there will never be new magics, only variations on the form."

"This where I believe you are mistaken, Severus," interjected Dumbledore. "I have had the chance to peruse Hermione's theory on the subject and I find her questions and suppositions quite intriguing."

McGonagall was still in shock. Madam Pomfrey's mouth hung open slightly. "Think of the implications."

Dumbledore nodded. "Think of the applications."

Hermione continued, "Professor ... Albus, do you think any of the seventh-years might be interested in assisting."

He considered. "I do not believe anyone in our school, or for the last few decades for that matter, has possessed your sense of experimentation or ability to logically apply the arts in such a way, however if you need assistants for preparation work, or in a learning capacity alone I believe you will find a few willing to submit their applications.

She almost bounced in her seat. "That's exactly what I need. It would help immensely."

He nodded. "Very well I will announce your need for volunteers at the Sorting Feast. I suppose none of you will have a problem with assigning extra credit points for an outside project?"

Snape looked like he was going to argue, but relented. "As long as their grades do not suffer, I will not stand in your way."

The rest of their lunch went about with relative small talk until they were finished. Harry reached into his pocket before McGonagall stood up from her seat.

"I have the list of books for the students, Professor."

She reached for it and opened the folded parchment to scan the titles. "Good enough, Harry. They are acceptable. Owls should go out early this year."

At that thought, Harry felt a bit melancholy. This would be the first time in six years he would not receive his Hogwarts letter.

"Professor, would you mind if I took the Weasley's letters with me. They've invited Hermione and I over for dinner one night this week."

She nodded. "I'll prepare Gryffindor first then. Pick them up this afternoon, Harry."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Hermione nudged him in the side on the way out. "You just want to see her squeal don't you."

He shrugged. "What can I say, you've spoiled me. Now I have to compare her squeal with yours."

She smiled and looked at his deep green eyes. "But you make me squeal for entirely different reasons."

Harry whipped out his wand charmed the trunks. "Come on, lets get you unpacked then we'll see if I can make you squeak as well."

3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

With Hermione in the main room of the third floor corridor Harry spent the remainder of his day setting up his study and reviewing the files of the incoming first-years. He wanted to be on a first name basis of every one of his students like Dumbledore had done for him. Granted, Harry's name was popular, even as a child, and the headmaster had taken a special interest in him since the incident with Voldemort when he was only one year old, but it made him feel special in a way. He wanted to make each of the first year's feel special as well.

He was amazed at the number of students that would be attending this year; mainly because of the enormous amount of transfer from the various school around the world: twenty-five from Asia-North - Durmstrang, five from France - Beauxbatons, seventeen from Hong Kong - Bamberstam, and even two students from America - The Texan Institute. All of them were sixth and seventh-years and all of them had a special interest in the Defense Against the Dark Arts as their primary field of study.

Harry didn't know how he felt about this turn of events. Almost fifty new students that in all probability had come to either study with or ogle the person that killed Voldemort. He was going to try to give them the benefit of the doubt, but still felt that it was his notoriety that had won the new additions to Hogwarts.

He had finished compiling his lesson plans for the first month and decided to call it a day when Hermione walked through the door looking tired and fairly disheveled. Without a word she stopped by to give him a kiss and proceeded to the bathroom for a nice warm soak. Harry decided to join her minutes later.

After a very unproductive washing session they reasserted them selves and cleaned up properly then climbed into bed for a very restful night's sleep.

Harry awoke the next morning to the feeling of his earlobe being softly nibbled upon. He smiled softly in his middle ground between being the conscious and unconscious. "Hermione," he playfully called.

"Hmm?" he heard her answer back, but it was odd, as if she was on the other side of the bed and not on top of him, nibbling his ear. He opened one eye and saw a mass of snowy white feathers a half inch from his face.

"BAAAAA!" he yelled as he jumped back and scared his wife, not to mention Hedwig who was now fluttering around the room in a snit because her master just yelled in her overly sensitive ears.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione said, looking from side to side.

He slowed his heat rate after having it almost jump out of his chest. "It's bloody Hedwig in bed with us. Scared me half to death."

Hermione laughed. "I think she's getting jealous of me."

She finally flittered down upon her perch and snubbed her beak at Harry, not really caring about delivering the letter the she was carrying. He stood up out of bed and grabbed his dressing cloak, pulling it on against the chill of the night air. They had forgotten to close the window which explained how Hedwig was out and about to receive a letter from anyone.

When he tried to untie the parcel she scooted over to one end of her perch, and when he followed she moved back.

"Hedwig, I'm sorry I yelled. You scared me is all."

She looked at him and turned her beak back up. He neared and started to pet her soft feathers. "You know you're the only girl for me, don't you?"

If he didn't know any better he would have thought she sighed in resignation when she stuck her leg out for him to untie the letter.

"It's from Ron."

Dear Harry and Wife,

Now that sounds really weird, doesn't it?

Mum wants to know if tonight would be okay for dinner. Dad's got a promotion, even after his transfer last year. He's going to be Head of Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. HEAD of Department! Can you believe it? Dad says a hefty increase in pay comes with the job and I should be able to get new everything this year. Ginny is bouncing off the walls at the thought of being able to go shopping for clothes that aren't found in a second-hand shop.

Luna says hi She's hanging over my shoulder right now to make sure that I put it in the letter. She's staying with us this week because her father is out of town looking for a Single Snort Felly Whack in the rainforest of South America. Don't ask.

Hope you had fun shagging my best friend's brains out for the last month. That statement goes to both of you. Mum won't ever leave the house for more than five minutes at a time, so Luna has been quite pent up. She gets really cranky when she can't have her 'picnics.' Don't tell I said that, by the way.

Anyway, let us know by lunch time because mum has to go shopping.

Your friend,

Ron

Hermione stretched catlike across the bed as Harry watched. "So, dinner at Ron's tonight?"

She nodded and Harry saw Hedwig was already asleep so he stepped over to the living room and grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder, tossing it into the fireplace. "The Burrow!" he called and stuck his head in the green flames.

After the initial disorientation was gone he caught sight of two figures wrestling on the large couch in the Weasley's living room. He was about to call out to the house in warning before he noticed who it was. "Oh, get off each other for a moment."

Ron nearly jumped over the couch trying to separate himself from his girlfriend, and Luna looked very frustrated at being interrupted.

"Oh, it's only Harry," said Ron as he was clutching his chest. "Shouldn't sneak up on us like that, mate."

Harry watched Luna rearranged herself and chuckled. "Got your letter; tonight should be fine."

Ron smiled, "Great, I'll tell mum when she comes back in. " then as an afterthought. "Are you at number twelve?"

"No, already at Hogwarts, Hermione's here too. You should see our rooms."

"Big, huh?" asked Ron.

"Make's my old rooms look small in comparison."

Hermione's voice came from the other room. "Harry, ask them if they want to meet us at Diagon Alley today."

"Is that, Hermione?" asked Luna.

"Yeah, did you hear?"

Ron nodded, "We haven't gotten our supplies list yet. Not for another week, probably."

"McGonagall gave me yours and Ginny's already, I'll see if I can get yours too, Luna."

"Thank you, Harry," she replied.

"Well, we'll be ready to leave in about an hour. Is that okay with you?"

Ron shrugged. "We're already ready. Mum woke us up early to degnome the garden this morning."

"Okay, well I better get down to McGonagall's office right away. You can Floo over if you want and check out the new rooms."

Ron held up a finger and ran out of the room. He watched as Luna felt behind her ear and realized her wand was missing and then turned to the cushions of the couch to retrieve and replace it in it's proper place.

Ron came back holding a decent sized pouch in his hand. Apparently, Mr. Weasley had gotten a decent pay raise off of his last promotion. "Mum asked if Ginny can come with us to buy her supplies too."

Harry laughed. "Sure. The more the merrier."

Ron turned his head to the back, "Oy! He said it was alright!"

He saw a flash of red hair in the background rushing up the stairs when Ron turned around. "Says she has to go change. We'll be over in a mo'. Where are you at anyway?"

Harry smirked. "You ready for this?"

They nodded.

"Just say 'Gryffindor Head of House'."

Ron's jaw dropped and his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "No way!"

He smiled, "I better get going if we're going to be on time."

"Bloody hell!"

"Ronald Weasley!" Harry heard Ron's mom admonishing him in the background.

He turned his head. "Mum, Harry's Head of House!"

Mrs. Weasley came into view. "What?"

He turned back. "See you in a few, mate."

Harry pulled back and waited until the spinning stopped before he stood back up. Hermione was right behind him and already dressed. He looked her up and down.

"How is it possible that you look this beautiful this early in the morning?"

She smiled coyly. "You always know just what to say, Harry." She rose up on her tip toes and pecked him on the lips. "You better go get ready."

Fifteen minutes later he was taking the revolving staircase down to the first floor and passing the entrance way to the corridor where McGonagall's office lay.

She looked up from her desk where she was magically stuffing envelopes and flying them across the room to a table that was full of already completed supplies lists.

"Harry, up early I see. Very good. It's a good sign of your dedication."

He nodded. "Yes Ma'am. Hermione and I are going to Diagon Alley for my books and more of her supplies. I had a request and a question."

She nodded. "Proceed, you are not interrupting." She flicked her wand again and another dozen or so letters flew across the room.

"Luna Lovegood is staying with the Weasley's while her father is out of town. May I bring along her supplies list as well."

"Ravenclaw is on the right side of the table." she paused. "And your question?"

Harry smiled. "Would you like me to pick anything up for you while we were there?"

She smiled with thin lips. "That's very considerate of you, Harry. I've already completed all of my shopping for this term, however."

He turned and searched through a large stack until he found Luna's envelope. "Thanks, Professor."

"Anytime, Harry."

He had returned in time to greet Ron and Luna who were inspecting the new rooms with much awe.

"Where's Ginny?"

Ron looked somewhat disgusted. "Oh, she's discovered make-up. It takes her about four times as long to get ready to go anywhere now."

Hermione scoffed. "She didn't just discover make-up. This is the first time that she's actually been able use any. Your mother absolutely forbad her to use any until her sixth year."

Ron scrunched up his face with confusion. "Why? What's the big deal?"

Luna was perusing the books on Harry's shelves. "She's off to impress Neville this year, of course."

Harry and Ron spun around in shock. "What?" they said in chorus.

"Somebody's in looove," Luna sang under her breath.

"With Neville Longbottom?" asked Ron with disbelief.

Luna smiled and her eyes softened. "Have you seen Neville recently, Ronald?"

"Um, no."

"Ginny had, or rather Ginny has a picture that was taken recently under her pillow in her room. Neville has become rather ..."

"Bald?" offered Ron.

"I was going to say dreamy."

Ron laughed. "Dreamy ... Longbottom, dreamy?"

Hermione wasn't amused. "Ron, Neville was working out and cutting back on his desserts especially by the end of the year. He took Dumbledore's instructions very seriously, last year."

At that moment emerald green flames whooshed up and Ginny Weasley stepped out of the fireplace. Except this wasn't the Ginny that Harry remembered. Her normally straight hair was wavy in places and her face was accented in flattering colors hiding the thickest of her freckles.

Hermione poked him in the ribs. "Close your mouth, Harry. You lost your chance when you married me."

His mouth snapped shut and looked down at Hermione who was staring fire at him. "Um ... just surprised is all."

"You are not going to Diagon Alley looking like that," commanded Ron.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mum, said I looked very nice and you are not dad."

"Blimey, Ginny, I'll have to stun every boy I see."

She smiled. "Thank you, Ron. That's the nicest thing you've ever told me."

Ron looked around the room and received no assistance. It looked like his heart sank.

Harry though of a way to divert his attention. "You lot want your Hogwart's letters?" he stepped around to his desk and retrieved Ron and Ginny's letters and passed them out along with Luna's.

Ron tore his open and perused his supplies while Harry watched Ginny just hold hers, staring at it.

"Harry?" she asked with almost a whisper.

"Open it."

Ron looked on with interest while she ripped it open and pulled out a prefect's badge.

She looked down at it and back up to Harry. "I'm a prefect?"

He nodded.

"SQEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Hermione held her hands over her ears as did Harry, Ron and Luna. "Okay, she's got me beat."

Harry nodded in response.

Ginny grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and tossed it in the fire. "The Burrow." She stuck her head in and yelled for her mother. "Mum! Mum!"

They all could hear Mrs. Weasley in shock. "Ginny, dear. What's wrong?"

"Mum, I made Prefect!"

It was like fifth year all over again, Mrs. Weasley came through the Fireplace moments later to give Ginny a proper hug and the squealing ran rampant throughout the living room and study.

"This calls for something special. What will it be, Ginny? Ron got a new broom, what is it you want?"

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Oh, Mum ... can I?"

Mrs. Weasley paused for a moment and then shook it off. She reached around her neck and pulled out a chain with a familiar Gringotts vault key hanging around it and handed it to Ginny. "Only as much as you need to purchase the cloak. And I want that back here as soon as you return to the house."

Ginny bounced up and down hugging her mother. "Oh, thank you, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley pulled back smiling at her daughter. "You earned it, dear. You deserve it."

Harry left the living room and walked over to the file cabinet to withdraw a large folder. Voices were still loud and celebrating when he returned. He handed the folder to Ron.

"What's this?"

"It's the Quidditch Captain's playbook."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Cool, I can learn some of the old strategies. thanks, Harry."

Ginny looked on. "Ron, you silly prat."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Only the Quidditch Captain can look at the playbook."

He rolled his eyes mockingly back at her. "I know that's why I said thanks."

Harry shook his head in disappointment. "Now I don't know If I want someone so thick to be Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

Ron looked down at the book and back up at Harry. "You're Head of House. You pick the Captain."

"Just thought of that, did you?"

"Me?"

Harry nodded. "Ron, you've beaten me in almost every game of Wizard's Chess we've every played; you're real good on strategy It was because of you that we won last year and you're the oldest player on the team ... unless you want to give it to Ginny."

She made a grab for the playbook and Ron jerked it away. "Not on your bleedin' life!" He looked back down at the book. "It's just like I saw in the mirror."

"What's that, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"The Mirror of Erised, Mrs. Weasley," Harry recounted. "It's supposed to show you your most desperate desire. Ron and I found it our first year."

Ron nodded. "I was Quidditch Captain and I won the Quidditch Cup, I was also Head Boy ... I wonder?"

Harry snickered. "I wouldn't hold your breath on that."

Ron shrugged. "I hated being prefect anyway. Fred and George always on my head. They can't have anything to say about this though."

4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Sitting at the teacher's table next to Hagrid's empty seat was an odd enough feeling at the Sorting feast, but seeing the eyes of students that he had come to know and regard as his friends was something else. It was much like his first year at Hogwarts, except in reverse. Now instead of being the one looking at all of the wonders of the Great Hall and watching the teachers with trepidation it was he that was under the lunascope. There was that difference, but at least this time he had something to drink.

Hermione had stuffed herself away in the third floor laboratory until the actual feast itself, not wanting to make it seem that she was a teacher.

The upperclassmen started filing in after a long journey on the Hogwarts Express looking somewhat tired, but overall very happy to be back for their first year without the threat of a Dark Lord hovering above them.

McGonagall disappeared to bring in the terrified first-years and the transfer students from the various school's. Even though the older students were in sixth and seventh year, they too had to be sorted into the various houses. He noted the increased length of the house tables to accommodate the overflow and the satisfied look of Snape at having so many students from Durmstrang soon to be walking up the aisle. Granted, Durmstrang concentrated on the Dark Arts more than any other school of magic, Harry still hoped Slytherin wouldn't steal most of the newer students.

He noticed Ron and Ginny enter the Hall with Neville nearby with his eye on every move she made. And he also noted Ginny's gleaming prefect badge as well as Neville's Head Boy Badge. Luna wasn't kidding when she said Neville had changed. It looked as if he had, in the end, started to resemble his father, mostly in height. Neville found his long-missing growth spurt and the chubbiness in his cheeks and around his middle had all but disappeared.

Harry took note of Malfoy entering the Hall looking much the same as he remembered the previous year, except in place of the depressed and sunken face was a happy and a much more relaxed demeanor. They caught each other's eye and each of them nodded briefly, once.

Everyone had taken their seats and at long last the first-years and transfer students were escorted in behind the, once again, prim and proper Deputy Headmistress. The door behind Harry opened and Hagrid stepped forward and took his seat next to Harry.

"Everyone make it alive, Hagrid?"

He chuffed and settled in his chair raising a very large goblet to his lips. "Ne'er lost one of 'um yet, Harry. 'Though there was tha' Creevey kid a few years back. Fell into the lake. But the squid sorted em out jus fine."

The noise in the Great Hall quieted as McGonagall set a stool in view of all, and the weathered old Sorting Hat upon it's flat.

Frivolity was the tone set for the new year by it's song and the sorting began. Harry clapped politely at each of the scared ten and eleven year-olds that quaked in their shoes every time each of them were sorted into their houses. To his surprise the elder students were split fairly into each of the four houses as well. Harry saw Snape's face fall at the mention of Heidi Krum, sister of Viktor, going to Gryffindor. He knew Ron was about to fall off his seat at the thought of having a Krum on the Quidditch team. All of the French students were split between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and the two Americans were sorted into Gryffindor as well.

Dumbledore stood. "I have a few beginning of term notices. Be it known to the new and transfer students that the forest on the edge of school grounds is forbidden except for purposes of Care of Magical Creatures class. And to all students the third floor corridor is also off limits."

Harry heard the door behind him open again and the lithe form of his wife taking her chair beside him.

"In order to dissuade you from going there I will tell you all that Hogwarts is pleased to have a former student, Mrs. Hermione Potter, base her research into the differing fields of Magic on that floor. And in regard to that endeavor, if there are any of you that wish to participate as assistants to this project, please contact Mrs. Potter tomorrow morning after breakfast."

He looked at Harry and turned back to the floor. "We are pleased to announce the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts has been filled on a more permanent basis. Some of you may remember Mr. Harry Potter."

Harry lifted his goblet to polite applause and acknowledged each table.

"Enough of listening to me talk. Tuck in."

In the Defense office the next morning Harry looked at his schedule one last time before heading down the stairs to his first class.

Harry had such success with the size of his D.A. classes that he appealed to the headmaster to let him take on all four houses in one class, only separating them by individual year. He could use the extra time in-between classes to hold office hours for individual students that might have questions, problems, or were in need of private lessons.

The Defense classroom had been rearranged and enlarged to accommodate the increased size and storage for desks during practical lessons. His first class of the day was the whole of Hogwarts sixth-year, after you take out the students that weren't interested in taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, consisted of 138 willful and eager young minds. Harry breathed in deeply and let it go as he opened the door slowly.

He peered out among the large classroom, arranged in auditorium style seating and picked out several students that were keeping busy amongst themselves, talking or whatnot. Pulling out his wand he kept a low and even voice among all of the noise.

"Locomotor Mortis! Rictusempra! Tarantallegra! Scourgify!" He repeated each Hex and Jinx over and over again before someone noticed him at the top of the stairs, except by this time a good quarter of the class had been hexed and was causing enough of a disturbance that a good portion of the rest of the class couldn't respond.

Harry eyed the one student in the very back of the class that was watching him, unconcerned with his fellow classmates. He remember his photograph from the Durmstrang student list. It wasn't until Harry aimed a Leg-Locker Curse at him did he respond immediately with ...

"Protego!"

The shield was perfect and the curse was sent back at him. Harry was far enough away that he had enough time to dodge the rebound. He smiled and made his way down to the front of the classroom, sat a folder on a lectern, then made himself comfortable on top of a table while the students sorted though the counter-curses and restored order to the room.

Once the last student was cured of the Babbling Curse, and had the ability to actually close her mouth, the class was silent. Harry looked at his watch. It had taken almost twenty-five minutes to sort everyone out.

"Pyotr?" He stared at the Russian student that rebounded his curse. "Did I pronounce your name properly."

"Da, Professor Potter."

Harry raised his hand out. "May I present the only person in this class that would have survived unscathed from a Dark Wizard attack. Most likely the rest of you would be severely wounded, stunned and captured soon to be tortured or under an Imperious Curse, or most likely dead."

He scanned the class. "I was but one wizard, all by myself, using harmless spells against 138 students one year younger than me, and I stopped cursing you the moment one person acted to shield my first spell."

Harry leaned on the lectern. "Can you imaging the carnage I could have caused if I had used the Killing Curse instead?"

"Pyotr, you have earned twenty points for Gryffindor. The rest of you have earned twelve inches of parchment on common counter-curses and a practical quiz next class period on a simple Shield Charm. I would not want to be in your shoes if you fail that quiz."

He saw eyes close and heads fall in defeat. "Weasley, Lovegood, Creevey, and Pyotr, up front. The rest of you may go be attacked or something. Please have the courtesy to stay away from me until you learn the basic skills that every fourth-year should know."

A lot of the students were still sitting in their seats, stunned that their friend was treating them so ... unkind. Thirty minutes into their first class of the year and they were being dismissed for being incompetent. They were slow in putting up their parchment and quills, but eventually made their way out of the classroom leaving only the four students whose name he called out.

The tall and pale Russian approached. "Sir?"

"Pyotr, I need a sixth-year assistant, are you up to the job?"

The Russian looked at the other three and noticed the prefect badge on Ginny's robe. "Da," he replied nodding his head.

"Good, wait in my office upstairs and we'll go over the particulars in a moment."

Harry turned on the remaining three. "You were in D.A. and know to always be on your guard. You have no excuse for letting me down." He paused. "Voldemort is dead, but that is no excuse for letting yourself grow lazy."

Harry watched as Ginny seethed, her face was red with anger and embarrassment, Luna stood there and nodded her head as if she agreed with everything he was saying, and Colin looked as if he was about to cry.

It's official, I'm a unicorn's ass, Harry thought to himself.

He relaxed his posture and shrugged. "You made a mistake, it happens. Learn from it and don't make the same mistake twice. You know I'm proud of each of you, but I cannot let my friendship with you to risk your life. When you leave this class, you will receive an Outstanding on your Defense N.E.W.T. next year and you will be ready for anything. I promise you."

They seemed accepting of their scolding, and Harry saw that. "Forget the written assignment and practice your Shield Charm. You will still take part in the practical quiz on Wednesday."

Harry picked up his folder off of the lectern and made his way up the stairs. Pyotr Yudin stood washboard straight as Harry entered the Defense office.

"Nice Shield Charm, Pyotr."

The Russian nodded once.

"Are you up on all of your Charms, Hexes and Jinxes?" Harry said as he sat down behind his desk.

"Da. I am half-way through N.E.W.T. level 7 at the moment, Professor."

Harry had to know. "Why are you here?"

Pyotr looked confused. "Sir?"

Harry leaned forward and took a page out of Dumbledore's playbook by interlacing his fingers and looking thoughtful. "I asked you why you are here, at this school, to be more specific."

The sixth-year's eyes moved to the window behind Harry's back. "I am here to study Defense Against the Dark Arts with the person that destroyed the Dark Lord. Your name has been mentioned ever since I was a child in mother Russia and now it is almost legendary."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at that.

"Your English is excellent, almost no accent."

He nodded once again. "My mother was British, Sir."

"Was?"

"Both of my parents were killed last year, Sir."

He didn't remember reading about that in his file, and that item would have stood out in his memory. "I'm sorry."

"They were in law enforcement, something akin to your Auror's, Sir."

Harry thought it best to drop the subject and move on. He didn't like it when people he didn't know got on the subject of his parents and felt it probably prudent to give Pyotr the consideration that he would like.

"Your duties will be assisting me in practical magic as my opponent and also in general tasks in the classroom at my request. In return you have the option of ten additional house points per week, one tutoring session, per month or you can ask one question outside the realm of our curriculum per month."

Pyotr's thick brow furrowed. "A question, Sir?"

Harry nodded. "I'm very private about my personal life and the battles I've had with Voldemort. I assume that is one of the reasons you have come all this way ... to pick my brain?"

It was the first time Harry had seen him smile. "I'll take the questions sir."

Harry sat back in his chair. "One question per month, Pyotr. Think about it before you ask."

The Russian nodded. "Yes, Professor Potter."

"You can go."

5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Harry thought he'd take it relatively easy on the fourth years and only hexed four of them. It didn't cause as much pandemonium as in his sixth-year class, but got it got his point across quick enough.

"As a friend of mine is very fond of saying, Constant vigilance!" commented Harry as he came down the stairs and proceeded to use the appropriate counter-curses.

"This little phrase doesn't mean to be paranoid twenty-four hours a day for the rest of your life. What it does mean is to be aware of your surroundings at all times."

He set his notes down at the lectern in front of the class and continued. "Look around at your friends," he chuckled, "and those that aren't your friends. Sometime in your life you might come face to face with them and they might just want to kill you, or perhaps even control your life and make you do things that you would normally never do."

Harry took a step in front of the lectern, spread his robes, and put his hands in his pockets. "This term we will concentrate on the more useful counter-curses as I'm sure that the majority of you have already been jinxed at sometime or another by your fellow schoolmates."

That brought out some muffled laughs and a few giggles.

He smiled knowingly. "Now, with that in mind lets ..."

In mid-sentence he felt light-headed and an overwhelming fear overcame his senses.

"Lets ..."

*Get OUT!* he heard Hermione say in his head.

Harry stumbled back a couple of steps and steadied himself on the table behind him. His hand instinctively reached into his robes for his wand and then his mind cleared.

"Creevey! Go find a teacher, any teacher. Tell them to get to the third floor corridor. NOW!"

Dennis Creevey dropped his quill and sprinted out the door.

"Everyone else stay here! Do not move from this classroom!"

Harry was out the door seconds later and pushing an all out dash down the hall and ascended the stairs, two floors up. Thirty seconds later he was at the door, pulling at it, but it was locked.

"Alohomora!" he called. After another check of the door he found it still locked. "Fine. Reducto!"

The Reductor Curse blasted the door into splinters and Harry covered his face from the worst of the blast.

"Hermione!" he yelled.

"Harry! Look out!"

He stepped back in time to avoid a jet of red light slamming into the door frame.

"Where is he?" he called out to the room.

"She's behind the storage cabinets."

Great, Harry thought to himself with anger, those things are gigantic.

"Stupefy!" he heard Hermione call.

Just then a tabby cat dashed up the stairs and reformed into a very stern Professor McGonagall. "Potter, what is the meaning ..."

She was caught off guard with another red blast hitting the door jamb and jumped backward faster than Harry had ever seen her move before.

"There's someone in there behind the storage cabinet that has Hermione pinned down."

Before she had anything to say Harry closed in. "I'm going to distract her. I need you to transfigure the cabinet into something much smaller that she can't use for cover."

McGonagall nodded and moved to the doorway, hiding just behind, out of site. Harry took three steps back and then dashed into the room, leaping into a roll on the floor. As soon as he cleared the door McGonagall swiveled herself around and transfigured the cabinet into a breadbox.

All three of them sent stunning charms at the blonde-haired girl looking at the breadbox in shock. The resulting direct hits slammed her up against the wall with a sickening crunch. Hermione was around the table and in Harry's arms in seconds.

"Are you okay? Are you injured?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm okay," she cried in his arms.

Harry stroked her hair and held her close while he watched McGonagall examine the girl. She held her hand up against the girl's throat and turned around shaking her head. Once the professor moved Harry got a better look at his wife's attacker and recognized her as one of the two American girls that had transferred from the Texan Institute, a seventh-year by the name of Cassandra Worthington.

A few moments later Professor Flitwick appeared at the doorway. "Goodness," he said quietly.

"Filius, would you be so kind as to alert the headmaster that there is a fatality on the third floor corridor, one of the young Americans."

He looked down with sorrowful eyes. "Right away, Minerva. I'll bring her friend as well. She's in my class at the moment."

Hermione turned in Harry's arms with shock on her face. "She's dead?"

McGonagall nodded once. "The force of the three Stunners knocked her head, back against the wall ... I'm afraid, much too hard."

Hermione turned back and cried into Harry's chest.

The professor stood and neared the couple. "What was she after, Hermione?"

Her face was red and tearstained when she pulled away. "My -- my notes ... my research notes." She was confused. "I told her I hadn't anything in there but theories and thoughts on what I wanted to do, but she was so ... adamant."

"What was she doing up here in the first place?" asked Harry.

She turned and her red eyes met Harry's. "She was the first one to volunteer to assist. She seemed normal ... excited even, and then she pulled out her wand."

Snape and Dumbledore arrived at the door at the same time. Apparently Dennis Creevey was running around the entire school alerting every professor he could find.

Dumbledore's gaze was cold as he surveyed the wreckage and the dead body of the American girl. "Harry, I would suggest you take your wife to your rooms, and return as soon as possible."

Harry started to protest.

"I would further suggest that you stop by Charms class and retrieve Mr. Weasley to look over her until your return."

Hermione pulled away and waved Harry off. "It's okay. I'll be okay. I'll go get Ron."

"Not alone you won't," announced Harry.

Snape retrieved his wand. "I will escort her to the Charms classroom, Potter."

The headmaster smiled politely. "Thank you, Severus."

Harry kissed her on the top of her head. "I won't be long."

Hermione smiled back at him and followed Snape out of the room.

Dumbledore stayed near the door occasionally peering out. "I assume the connection you and your wife share alerted you to her peril?"

Harry nodded. "What's this all about, Professor? I mean, I know Hermione's work would be important, but enough to kill her just to steal her notes?"

The headmaster looked down. "How much to you know about your wife's ideas, Harry?"

He shrugged. "She's tried to explain them to me, but every time she tries, I tend to ..."

Dumbledore smiled knowingly, "... Not understand?"

Harry nodded, feeling somewhat foolish.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, Harry. The technical aspect of her studies are somewhat complex." He paused for a moment to consider. "Virtually all of magic can be summed up into one art, Charms. It is the controlling aspect of what we, as wizards, do. In order for us to produce the proper magical effect we need to know the proper magical phrase, gesture, mixture of elements, and so forth. The execution might vary, but it all comes down to Charms."

The headmaster checked out the door again. "Are you following my mode of thought?"

Harry nodded in response.

"Very good. Are you familiar with the phrase, 'for every action there is a equal, yet opposite counter-action'?"

Harry looked at McGonagall and back at the headmaster. "Um ... no."

"Good/Evil, Right/Wrong, Magic/Muggle. Here, how about a practical application." Dumbledore took out his wand and conjured a small contraption with four wooden legs, connected at the top in a rectangle. Suspended from the top were five silver balls in a line, hanging below by silken threads.

He lifted one end ball high in it's arc and released. The result was it striking and transferring its power to the opposite end ball and everyone watched as it also swung out in a precise pattern in relation to it's counterpart. When it returned in it's descending arch it struck back, transferring a diminished power to the original ball. Then Dumbledore stopped them and used the same motion with two balls. Again the power of the two balls striking the remaining three resulted in a equal and opposite reaction of making the other two end balls venture forth in a complimenting arc.

"Action/Reaction." With a flick of his wand the contraption was gone. "In essence this is what Hermione was working on."

Harry looked over at McGonagall and was surprised to find even her questioning what Dumbledore was saying.

"She has taken the idea of Charm and Counter-Charm one step further with Magic and Counter-Magic. In effect she is exploring the possibility of a anti-magic magic. An art that could potentially be the most potent magic there is."

"Albus!" McGonagall let off with a exclamation of shock.

"The proper precautions have been taken, Minerva. Have no fear."

Harry didn't know what the Transfiguration teacher was getting bent out of shape about. "Is this dangerous or something?"

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Every experiment into the unknown is filled with some amount of inherent danger, Harry. All that we can do is take certain steps to insure the more ... obvious risks are not ignored."

The sound of a door opening down the hall distracted the headmaster. "Ah, I believe the other American has arrived. I will be but a moment."

Dumbledore was true to his word and a few moments later the second American turned around the corner into the room with abject horror written across her features. She stood at the doorway and stared at the dead body of her country-mate.

"I swear, Professor's I didn't know," she sputtered.

She turned and saw Harry standing close behind her and nearly jumped out of her skin. "Professor Potter! You've got to believe me. I would never ... I mean ... I didn't think ..."

"I believe you, Miss Harrington," said Dumbledore.

Harry's eyes traveled to the headmaster's and he relaxed at a knowing nod. He then sheathed his wand. "I'm sorry your friend is dead, but she was threatening the life of my wife."

Miss Harrington's face went ashen white as she covered her mouth. "You killed her?" she whispered. "Of course, she wouldn't have stood a chance she ..."

"Don't be silly," McGonagall snapped. "Professor Potter did not use an Unforgivable Curse. It was a combination of three Stunning Charms and the girl's head against the stone of the wall."

Harry looked up at McGonagall. "It was my stunner that killed her. Yours and Hermione's cancelled each other out. I was in front of her and she caught the full bunt of it. I'm the one that killed her, Professor."

McGonagall looked like she was going to argue, but it also looked like she worked the logistics of the scene out in her head before speaking. "Be that as it may, no fault will be attributed to you for protecting your wife."

Dumbledore stepped in. "Miss Harrington, would you be so good as to accompany Professor Potter to your dormitory. I would like to examine the contents of Miss Worthington's belongings as we may find a clue to her motivations for her actions today."

She nodded quickly. "Of course."

"Harry, am I correct, that Miss Worthington was an orphan?"

Harry recalled her student file. "Yes, Sir. She was on scholarship to the Texan Institute and that transferred to Hogwarts, but I don't know who the benefactor was."

"Then perhaps that might be an excellent starting point. I will leave it to you and Miss Harrington to peruse any personal affects. Please report your findings to me as soon as possible. I must make arrangements for the inquiry into this matter with the Ministry."

6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Allison Harrington muttered to herself most of the way to Gryffindor Tower, nearly all of which Harry couldn't make heads or tails out of. It was only when Harry broke her train of thought that she responded.

"Miss Harrington ... Allison, tell me what you know about Miss Worthington."

She looked up at him. "Oh ... uh, not much. She was in the same year as me at the Texan Institute. After we heard about you ki ... uh, your defeat of ... him ... we both applied to Hogwarts. That's where I met her. In the dean's office for permission to transfer."

He nodded. "When was that exactly, if you can remember?"

She shrugged her shoulders as if unsure. "End of February, I think."

"She must have been recruited sometime in between," he surmised.

"Recruited?"

He nodded. "I seriously doubt that a seventh year on the other side of the world had ambitions to pack up one day and move to Scotland only to attack my wife." He paused to give the password to the Fat Lady. "Someone knew she was coming and recruited her to steal Hermione's work. Either that or she was under the Imperius Curse."

He heard a swift intake of breath at the mention of an Unforgivable Curse then stepped back and held his hand out for her to proceed. Allison went through the portrait hole and Harry followed.

A few house elves were scurrying around picking up and performing general cleaning, and he spotted Dobby.

"Dobby."

The house-elf looked up. "Harry Potter, Professor, sir. Dobby is happy to see you again, kind sir."

"You too, Dobby. Would you do me a favor?"

The house-elf ran up and look wide-eyed and with worship at Harry. "Harry Potter has but only to ask and it shall be done."

He gave Dobby a thin lipped grin. "Would you go down to my defense glass and tell them they may be dismissed, please?"

Harry looked at his watch as the house-elf disappeared and noticed he didn't have much time before his next class started. "Let's hurry up. I don't have much time before a class load of second-years is going to wonder where their professor is."

They trotted up the staircase and Harry winced at the fourth step before he realized that the steps weren't going to drop out from under him and no alarm was going to sound at a boy trying to access the girls' dormitory. Apparently professors were exempt, or maybe it was head of houses.

Once inside he didn't see what the big deal was. The girls dormitories were just as messy as the boys except there were more frillier things thrown about.

They opened the door to a shared room and stepped inside.

"Which bed was hers?"

Allison pointed and Harry saw the trunk at the base, took out his wand, waved it and said, "Pack!"

Miss Worthington's drawers opened and all of her supplies flew through the air and into the trunk, followed by her clothes, books, and anything else Harry could point a wand at. Allison knelt by the side of the bed and lifted up her countrymate's mattress to retrieve a book.

"It was her journal, I think. I saw her writing in and hiding it one night."

Harry held his hand out. "I'll look through this personally. Anything else you can think of?"

She looked around the room and retrieved a rectangular case from a table that stood by four other similar cases.

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"Toiletries, and makeup."

He nodded and pointed at the trunk where she laid the case inside. Then he flipped his wand and the trunk lid closed.

"Locomotor Trunk!"

They reached the stairs and Harry slowed his pace. "I want you to come to my office and start going through Miss Worthington's personal items, clothes and such then at eleven I'll join you."

She seemed a little apprehensive. "I've got Potions class this hour."

Harry chuckled. "I'll give you a note. You're a Gryffindor. Trust me when you'll thank me for this later. First class with Snape is not the most pleasant experience."

She seemed confused, but acquiesced.

Second-year class went off without a hitch, and he soon joined Allison in his office where surprisingly, Hermione was sitting at his desk. At his entrance she stood and came around the desk to give him a hug.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Allison and I have been going through that girl's affects and haven't found anything as of yet."

Harry held up the journal. "You might have better luck with this."

Her eyes brightened and she grabbed the book from his hand and sat herself back down at the desk, immediately opening to the first page.

Allison was flipping slowly through the school books in hopes of finding a letter, or a scrap bit of parchment, or something that might help when she stopped and looked up at Harry.

"Why are you letting me help?"

His eyes found hers. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "If I were you, I'd be thinking I was the next possible suspect. I could be lying or anything."

"Do you know what Legilimency is, Allison?"

"No, Sir."

"It's a rare field of magic that gives the user the ability to extract feelings and memories from another persons mind."

She looked almost horrified. "You can read my mind?"

Harry laughed. "It's not like that. If I were to use the proper incantation I could view scenes from your past just as you remembered them, or if I was skilled enough I could invent scenes and slip them into your mind when it was at rest."

Hermione looked up from the journal and watched the interchange.

"I don't think I would like that. It sounds dangerous."

Harry nodded. "It is. That's how I lost my Godfather."

She didn't seem to want to know more. "What has that got to do with me?"

"The headmaster is a Master Legilimens. He can tell if you're lying. He trusts you, so I trust you."

Her back straightened. "Oh." Then after a moment, "So you can't read my mind?"

He smiled back. "No, Allison. I can't read your mind."

She breathed a sigh of relief and returned to flipping the pages.

Hermione smirked and reached to pick up a quill and a sheet of parchment. Harry walked over to see what she was writing.

She fancies you.

He frowned and took the quill from her.

You're barking.

She laughed quietly and took the quill back.

I think, perhaps, she'd like some private lessons

Harry leaned over and kissed her.

I'll give 'you' some private lessons

Hermione yawned.

Learned everything already, thanks

Vixen!

Tease! Poor seventh-year, being strung along

by a over-sexed professor.

Didn't hear you complaining last night

Hermione shrugged.

That's because you stuffed my mouth full with your

"Ahem," Allison cleared her throat.

Harry jumped and Hermione spilled the bottle of ink.

"Yes, Allison?"

She held out a envelope. "I think I found something. It was in her Defense book."

Harry pulled out and unfolded the parchment.

First day of classes

Granger

Notes

KoW

v v

"I guess it wasn't the Imperius Curse after all," Harry muttered.

Hermione pointed at the bottom of the parchment. "Any idea what 'KoW' or 'VV' means?

He shook his head. "Maybe Dumbledore knows."

Harry refolded the parchment and stuffed it back in the envelope. "I'm going to see him. Keep at the journal. Allison, stay with Hermione. I'll be back by lunchtime."

He exited by the second floor corridor and almost ran into Pyotr Yudin who was skimming through a folder on the way down the hall.

He looked up suddenly. "Professor Potter."

"I'm in a hurry, Pyotr. Do you need something."

He nodded. "Da. Please, I will walk with you. I do not mean to detain you from your duties."

Harry pocketed the envelope, and continued down the corridor. "What is it I can do for you?"

"Well, Sir. I was speaking with some of the other Gryffindor students that ... well ..."

Harry stopped and turned. "It's best to get to the point, Pyotr."

"A dueling club sir. More specifically an offensive/defensive after hours class to learn techniques, strategies, how to determine your enemies weaknesses and capitalize on one's strengths."

Harry smiled at the idea and his own experience with the D.A. "You've had experiences with this type of club?"

He nodded hurriedly. "It was required at Durmstrang, Sir. The students found it most informative and the techniques learned helped us hone our spell casting abilities."

"I've had experience with a club of my own my in fifth and sixth-year."

"That is what I have heard, Sir. I desire permission to continue in your tradition."

Harry thought on it only for a moment. "Form your first few lesson plans and I'll take a look at them."

Pyotr didn't hesitate and handed the folder he had bee looking at to Harry. "I anticipated your request sir and these would be the lesson plans for the entire year."

Harry almost laughed at the eagerness of his student, but held up short when he saw the seriousness in his eyes. He took the folder and stuck it under his arm. "Pyotr, I will meet you in the Room of Requirement at seven o'clock. We will duel. If you can hold your own against me I will allow you to form this club."

The young Russian paled. "A duel, Sir? Against you?"

Harry's eyes turned very serious. "How bad do you want this club, Pyotr?"

He stiffened and straightened up at attention. "I shall be prepared, Sir."

Harry nodded "Good. I'll look over your plans and mark the ones I approve of."

"Thank you, Sir."

Harry continued down the hall and turned to the empty corridor where the Headmaster's office was located. Arriving at the top of the spiral staircase he noticed the door to Dumbledore's office was open and there seemed to be a heated discussion going on with Amelia Bones and Dumbledore.

"We cannot allow a this to continue, Headmaster. You must move her research out of Hogwarts immediately."

"And where would you suggest she move to, Amelia. Hogwarts is the safest location by far."

She laughed. "Safest? Potter's already killed a student for Merlin's sake."

"Mrs. Bones?" said Harry.

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement jumped and spun around. "Potter!"

"Professor Potter, Amelia," Dumbledore corrected.

Harry ignored the correction and continued. "If Susan was sitting in that chair there and I was trying to kill her, what would you do?"

Her eyes narrowed at the implication Harry was making.

"I would stun you and hand you over to the proper authorities," she snapped back at him.

"Which is what I did. Except there was a stone wall behind her. Miss Worthington's head and the wall had a disagreement."

She stood and turned to Harry. "Be that as it may I do find it suspicious that you always turn up at precisely the right time to kill someone. Someone, I might add, that we now have no way of knowing if she was working alone or was cursed innocently to attack Miss Granger."

Harry reached into his cloak. "Her name is Mrs. Potter now, Mrs. Bones and I have proof she did this of her own free will."

She reached out to take the envelope and Harry, instead, handed it to Dumbledore.

"A moment if you will, Amelia. You will, of course, receive any evidence we find."

Dumbledore looked at it for a moment and handed the parchment to her. She scanned it as well.

"My apologies, Professor Potter."

Harry took it in stride. It wasn't the first time he had been accused of wrong doing and probably wouldn't be the last.

"Any idea what 'KoW' or 'VV' is, Sir."

The headmaster nodded grimly. "I would like to consult a source of mine, but I believe that 'KoW' stands for the Knights of Walpurgis."

Amelia Bones looked stricken and sat down unexpectedly. "But he's ... Dumbledore ... you saw him die."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Not Voldemort?"

"No, Harry. I still believe to this day we have seen the last of Voldemort. This was before his time," Dumbledore said with some trepidation. "The Knights of Walpurgis are a forerunner to Voldemort's Death Eaters. About thirty years before the rise of his first reign I believe."

"Another Dark Lord?"

Amelia nodded. "You've heard of Lord Grindelwald, Potter?"

"Sounds familiar." He thought on it for a moment. "Wait a bit. That was the Dark Lord you defeated, Professor!"

"Indeed." Dumbledore looked nervous for the first time since Harry had know him. "What do you know of the end of World War II, Harry?"

He shrugged. "Um, just what the Muggle schools taught us sir."

Then it all clicked together. Grindelwald was defeated in 1945. "He had something to do with the war?"

Amelia Bones scoffed. "Really, Potter, did you sleep through your History of Magic classes?"

"Um, yeah. Most people do."

She scowled. "Grindelwald didn't just have something to do with the war. He was the one who started it."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought Hitler ..."

Dumbledore interrupted him. "Harry, The Dark Lord Grindelwald was Adolph Hitler."

7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"That explains a few things, I guess," Harry sat, bewildered.

"Be that as it may, I am confident that he is deceased, having witnessed his death myself."

Harry refocused on the headmaster.

"Now, I believe we have one of two scenarios of which to consider: either someone has stumbled across the hiding place of the old Knights of Walpurgis and will be using the name to strike fear back into the wizarding community, or it is someone from those days of cruelty and death, returned to exact his or her revenge."

Harry leaned forward and rested his head on fisted hands supported on his knees. "What can you tell me about the Knights?"

Amelia Bones stood and neared the fireplace. "Mr. Potter, Headmaster, the matter will be taken into account by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Please do not interfere in Ministry matters."

Harry was about to respond, but Dumbledore answered first. "Of course, Amelia. As always, I have supreme confidence in matters left in the hands of the Ministry of Magic. Please relay my greetings to Minister Shaklebolt at your meeting."

Harry noticed the ironic smile on Dumbledore's face. Mrs. Bones features went sour; she threw a handful of Floo Powder at her feet in the fireplace, and disappeared in a whoosh of flames.

"Why was she so angry?" asked Harry.

"She lost her husband to Grindelwald himself, killed at one of the many death camps he was so fond of." He sighed. "This newest battle will be personal for her, Harry. Even with confident knowledge that it is not, in fact, Grindelwald, Amelia will make every attempt to quash this newest incarnation before it rears its head to strike."

He leaned back in his chair and looked into the emerald flames in the fireplace, considering something. "I believe we will hear something more from the Knights of Walpurgis before this matter is settled."

They sat in silence for more than ten minutes while Harry considered what to do and how best to protect Hermione. For it was obvious what the Knights were after: the new magic.

He looked back up at Dumbledore as saw pale color of his skin and the haunted look in his eyes, eyes that were even now turning to meet his own.

"You have questions, Harry." He stated it as fact and nothing more.

"No, Sir."

Dumbledore turned and leaned into his desk. "Nonsense."

Harry looked down and back up again. "I know what it's like to be asked about facing a dark lord, Sir. It's personal and people shouldn't ask."

The wrinkles in the headmaster's face looked deeper than ever, and his eyelids drooped closed and reopened so slowly that Harry was sure he Dumbledore had fallen asleep sitting up.

"This is very true, Harry. However, you and I share comparable life experiences. Ask your questions."

Harry looked reluctant, but followed the headmaster's request. "How did he die?"

Dumbledore knew this to be the first question, for his answer came far too quickly. "I killed him." He paused in remembrance. "It was much different than your battle with Voldemort. There was no duel. There was no magic involved at all, at first. I refused to use the Killing Curse. I thought it too inhumane even against a monster such as Grindelwald.

"I had infiltrated his secret bunker in the mountains of northern Germany, not as the Muggle histories say of another location. After stunning several of his personal guard I took one of their weapons and stepped into his private chambers.

"He was bathing at the time and I watched as he struggled to reach his wand and contain his modesty at the same time. I remember walking briskly up to him and holding the pistol to his forehead as he froze in place."

Dumbledore looked down and paused in his story, taking a slow breath. "He seemed relieved that it was over and he was going to receive a quick and relatively painless death. Quick, as it were, from the bullet of a Muggle pistol."

He laughed and Harry saw his eyes pooling at the memory.

"But you see, Harry, I had visited a few of his death camps in search of clues to his whereabouts. I saw what pure evil was capable of and I couldn't let him die so quickly ... not after what I had seen."

Harry didn't want to know anymore, and covered his eyes with his hands rubbing at them as if to waken himself from a horrid nightmare. This was Dumbledore sitting in front of him.

"Why are you telling me this, Sir."

"It is necessary that you know what we are all capable of, Harry." He hesitated for a moment. "Even I, in all of my forged nobility since that day, am more than able to sink to the depths of hatred and vengeful fury to commit such a horrible act."

Harry remembered a taste of that anger; a sip in the cup of what Dumbledore was able to experience. The end of his fourth year, after he had returned to Hogwarts having just dueled with Voldemort. He remembered the look on the headmaster's face when he blew open the door to the Defense office and entered. And that was just because Barty Crouch Jr. had taken him. He couldn't imagine what the look on his face might have been like facing Grindelwald.

But he could imagine what righteous vengeance felt like. Knowing the power was yours to do with it what you will when your most hated enemy is standing before you, virtually helpless. It was the same with Bellatrix Lestrange, when she had her back to him at Malfoy Manor. Harry laid the most painful curse he could on her and still be legal. Even when he found out about his latent Enchanting ability and knew the Popping Boil Curse would be permanent he didn't feel much remorse; certainly not enough to seek her out and perform the counter curse.

She deserved every moment of agony for the deeds she committed, and they were much less severe than the atrocities of Grindelwald.

"I understand, Sir."

Dumbledore looked into his eyes. "Do you, Harry?"

Harry straightened. "Sir, even if you boiled him alive, he deserved every ..."

Dumbledore's eyes widened and Harry knew that was exactly what he did.

Harry swallowed. "He deserved it, Sir."

Dumbledore's eyes close again. "No person deserves to die like that. It made me no better than he."

Harry stood. "You're wrong." If there was one thing he understood more than any other it was that each dark lord he known about, deserved everything that eventually befell them, and more.

He had no sympathy for Grindelwald, just as he had no sympathy for Voldemort, Malfoy, or Lestrange. It didn't take being a dark lord to be evil to the core, but it took more than simple and clarifying vengeance to do what needed to be done. May they all burn in hell.

"If it is the Knights of Walpurgis that have tried to take Hermione away from me then I'll hunt them down, Sir. And I will finish each and every one of them."

Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "It is not for us to judge their actions and pronounce sentence upon them."

Harry turned to the door. "Isn't it, Sir? Who better than the victims of the crime to decide proper punishment?"

He turned when he reached the door.

"Harry, it is the actions we choose in these circumstances that mold us into who we are."

"I understand that, Professor. That's why you and the others trained me to kill Voldemort, not capture him and lock him in Azkaban, but kill him. Not because of what was right or some higher moral purpose, but because some prophecy to you to.

"A sixteen year old boy was trained as a weapon of death for the betterment of wizard-kind. Was it justified?"

Dumbledore looked so very old, as if the weight of the world had been dropped into his lap. "You are correct, of course, Harry ... to my everlasting regret."

Harry gave him a hard grin in return. "I don't regret a moment of it, Sir. Because of you and the Order of the Phoenix I was able to avenge my parents deaths, Sirius' death, Cedric Diggory's death, and I was able to have my life back. Now I'm going to spend it with the woman I love, and if anyone gets in my way ... I'll destroy them as well."

"Harry, please reconsider the path of which you choose."

"No, Sir. Perhaps Amelia Bones was right in her anger. You are the smartest person I know sir. You are powerful and wise, thoughtful and tolerant, but there is one thing I think you have forgotten."

Dumbledore pushed himself up and stood behind his desk. "And what would that be, Harry."

"You've forgotten what if feels like to experience pure passion."

Dumbledore blinked one again. "You are mistaken, Harry. I remember it quite well. The last time I let my passions rule me I boiled a man alive."

Harry turned and started down the stairs. "No, Sir. He wasn't a man. He was Evil. Pure and simple Evil."

The walk back to the Defense office was quick and Harry knew as he escorted Hermione and Allison to the Great Hall that he would be eating nothing; the entire conversation with Dumbledore had soured his stomach and the headmaster's lack of presence at the staff table told Harry that someone else didn't feel like eating either.

"So what did he say, Harry?" Hermione asked as she dug into a roast chicken.

"Knights of Walpurgis."

Her fork clattered to the plate in front of her. "Grindelwald?"

Harry shook his head. "He's dead."

Hermione didn't look so sure. "That's what they said about Voldemort."

Harry turned his head. "Believe me ... he's dead."

Her eyes widened. "Professor Dumbledore told you what happened?"

He nodded and sipped at his cup of coffee.

"He's never told anyone. There are no official reports on the subject. He wouldn't file one."

Harry almost laughed then the reality of it sank in. "I wouldn't have filed a report either."

Hermione took a bite of potato and sat chewing for a moment. "What happened?"

"Dumbledore killed him."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I figured as much, but there was no body and people all over Europe swore out sightings of him for years afterward."

Harry slammed his cup down and hot coffee spilled over the side down his hand. "He's dead, Hermione," he said through gritted teeth.

She looked at him, hard, and then softened. "It was bad ... what he did, wasn't it."

He sighed and wiped the coffee away on his linen napkin. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, Harry."

"What for?"

She took his hand. "For finding out that a person that you have held in the highest esteem for so long is only human."

Harry pushed his chair out. "I'll be in my office. I need to go over a training manual; one of the new sixth-years wants to start up D.A. again."

"When?"

"Tonight. I'm dueling with him at seven so I'll be late."

She nodded softly. "You're not going to be at dinner?"

He shook his head, and Hermione grabbed his hand before he left. "Harry, don't push me away ... please."

He stopped. "I just need some time alone right now."

"I understand, but if you want to talk about anything."

He nodded and smiled briefly.

The rest of the day dragged on forever. It was the first day of classes and Harry thought it would never end. his last class ended at three but between students stopping by to ask questions and studying the training manual, Harry didn't have time to think much about the Knights of Walpurgis or Grindelwald.

The stairs to the seventh floor were unusually crowded on the way to the Room of Requirement at a quarter of seven and Harry wondered what was going on ... that is until he reached the seventh floor and saw for himself.

It seemed their duel was a little more public than Harry was expecting. He waited in queue with the rest of the students who were looking at him with curiosity, probably wondering why a Professor would bother waiting when he had the power to tell everyone to get out of the way.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were at the door collecting three Sickles from each person entering and showing them where to sit, until they saw Harry.

"Making a little profit off the dual tonight guys?"

Seamus tried to look innocent. "It's for a good cause, Professor."

Harry smiled. "And what's that?"

"Supplies."

Harry was trying to keep a straight face. "Supplies for what?"

He didn't bother letting them try to answer. "Just make sure my half actually goes to a worthy cause."

"Your half?"

"St. Mungo's is good enough ... unless you'd like to donate all of it?"

Dean smiled. "St. Mungo's it is."

He flipped them a single Galleon and stepped into the room to find it much different than the other times he had been here. On either side was bleacher style seating, the entire length of the room, which was at least sixty feet. The dueling circles were arranged on either side dead center to leave optimum room so nobody would be hit with a stray spell.

The stands were almost full of spectators four rows high. It seemed as if half of Hogwarts had come to watch. he picked out a few professors as well, including Dumbledore who had a front and center seat.

"Great," he said dryly to himself.

"Professor Potter," interrupted Pyotr Yudin who had appeared beside him. "I didn't ... I only told ..."

Harry shook his head. "Welcome to Hogwarts 'word of mouth'. If you try to keep something secret, by the next meal time everyone will know."

He returned the folder to the sixth-year. "I've approved all but seven lessons. They are clearly marked. Take your position."

Pyotr was still pale and judging from the beads of sweat on his forehead, quite nervous. Harry walked out to the center of the room and held his hands up for everyone to quiet down.

"Is that the last of them Seamus?"

He got the thumbs up and Harry nodded in return.

"Great. This was suppose to be a trial to test the new D.A. assistant, and it seems to have gotten a little out of hand, as things seem to go around here."

There was a smattering of laughter and Harry looked around waiting for it to die down when he caught Hermione's eye at the top left of the stands.

"I assume since you are here, all of you are interested in taking after hours practical lessons."

He was expecting a few groans and was instead gifted with nods, and smiles.

"Okay, I wasn't expecting that."

More laughter followed.

"In that case I think we are going to need more teachers. Sixth and Seventh-years only please, if you are interested in helping out, come down and step up."

Harry wasn't surprised to see a good amount of transfer students stand and work their way to the middle of the room, and even a few of the Hogwarts seventh years as well. In total twenty-one volunteered.

"Professor Dumbledore, would you please erect protection barriers for the audience?"

He smiled. "Of course, Harry."

He withdrew his wand and muttered something that Harry couldn't hear, then nodded once to him.

"Thanks." He turned to the volunteers. "For this crowd I think ten teachers will suffice. Here are the rules. If you are disarmed then you are out of the game. Oh, and no really painful curses, please."

He stepped over to his dueling circle. "Ready?"

One of the volunteers raised her hand.

"Yes, Suzanne?"

"Professor, which one of us will you be dueling with first, Sir?"

Harry smiled. "Well, we have to give our audience their money's worth how about all of you at once?"

Gasps rang throughout the room.

One of the Durmstrang's from Slytherin house laughed. "What, twenty-one to one?"

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Does seem a little out of balance, doesn't it? Remember Mr. Belov, when you are facing a practitioner of the Dark Arts, things are hardly ever what they appear to be."

He pointed his wand at himself. "Multiplum Persona!"

Appearing all around Harry, popping up from left and right, in forward and back were exact duplicates of himself all drawing their wands upon fully forming. The eyes of the volunteers bugged and several jaws dropped.

"Ready? Begin."

8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Sker Scield!" Harry cast before the first of twenty or so curses, jinxes, and hexes flew his general direction, and he ducked behind the shining silver shield.

Multiple gong sounds echoed through the room and most of it's occupants covered their ears.

Harry stuck his wand out from the side of the shield and yelled, "Fortis Conus."

Waves of force rippled through the air in an expanding cone shape, hitting the bulk of the volunteers and knocking them to the floor. He saw two wands fly to the side.

"Only nineteen more to go," he whispered.

The majority of his duplicates had already been found out as illusions and dissipated readily, but that was okay, for now. While they were still confused with the number of other Harry's running around behind their own shields he took advantage of the chaos.

"Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus! Stupefy!"

"There he is!" cried one of the French students from Beauxbatons.

"Great," cursed Harry.

He willed all of his duplicates to run in front of him and block their line of sight while he mixed in.

"Petrificus Totalus! Locomotor Mortis!"

Two more were down. Two curses hit the shield and he felt a slight tremble notifying him that the charm was almost to it's limit. One, maybe two more good hexes and he would be out in the open. Something whooshed above him and he felt his hair sizzle. Harry had to do something fast to knock the majority of them on their collective butt or he was toast.

A quick peek around the shield revealed more than half of them in a closed circle, protecting themselves from attack from all directions. He lifted his wand above them and waved it in a pattern consistent with the size of the circle, and a large cargo net appeared above them and dropped. They all fell to the ground in a tumble, held down by the large weights attached ever foot or so insuring that they were trapped in a laying position.

Another curse hit the shield and Harry felt it dissipate.

When he looked up there were only five students left, scattered across the room. While the rest of them were struggling under the net. Harry noticed Dumbledore using a summoning charm to take away the wands of those that dropped theirs.

His duplicates were all gone and Harry straightened up and smiled. Pyotr Yudin, Ginny Weasley, Allison Harrington, were standing perfectly still with their wands held ready, while Susan Bones and Raisa Novikov, from Slytherin, stood to the sides breathing hard.

"Congratulations, you've guaranteed your positions as teachers assistants. Now who's going to be Captain?"

He'd taught Ginny and Susan, Harry knew what they already knew. He'd seen Pyotr's lesson plans and knew what he was capable of. Allison and Raisa, however, were unknowns.

None of them rushed to throw off any curses and instead took time to study their opponent. Harry watched Raisa's eyes and found them determined. Allison's were relaxed and confidant.

Harry smiled and raised his wand. The others waited to see what he was going to do, so he did the unexpected and toed his shoes off.

Ginny looked at him with curiosity and Raisa almost broke into a smile at the oddity of her teacher. Pyotr quickly looked around and grimaced toeing his shoes off as well.

"Nox!" yelled Harry, and he dove to the ground as the room was plunged into total darkness.

Two spells shot off and Harry traced one of the red lights to it's source and whispered. "Petrificus Totalus!"

He heard a female yip and a body falling to the floor.

"Four more to go."

A yellow jet of light came in his direction, but flew well above his head as he was crouched down. After it was clear he moved a few feet to the right and encountered the protection barrier that Dumbledore had erected.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and the remainder of the four didn't make a sound; they were too smart to reveal themselves, and Harry thought it was time to reveal the second part of his plan.

He closed his eyes tightly and whispered. "Steorra Berstan!"

A bright light exploded in the center of the room blinding those with their eyes open. He followed the Starburst Charm with, "Torca Ignis!" lighting the room to it's previous setting.

"Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus!"

Wands were flying everywhere and when he aimed at Pyotr he was surprised to find him covering one of his eyes with his hand.

"Brilliant, Mr. Yudin!" Harry laughed.

The young Russian took his hand away and blinked rapidly.

They circled each other as Harry allowed his opponent to regain the sight in his other eye.

"All better?"

Pyotr nodded. "Da, thank you."

And before he knew it the Russian stepped forward. "Fyst!"

Harry felt the air rush out of his lungs as he was propelled through the air and onto his butt. It felt as though he had been sucker punched in the stomach. Regaining his feet, he turned to the side to make himself a thinner target. He watched as Pyotr followed his lead. Harry only had one more trick up his sleeve that that was planned for the end of the lesson and it was about time to show.

He dug his left hand into his pocket without being seen. "Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!" yelled Pyotr.

At that Harry threw a handful of gobstones at the Russian and yelled "Protego!" to defend against the rebounded Disarming Charm.

Pyotr looked down at the black juice on his shirt and grimaced.

Harry smiled. "It's not about magic, Mr. Yudin. It's about winning. Congratulations, Captain. Well fought."

The Russian's eyes rolled up and he collapsed.

A sudden swell of noise rose around the room as Dumbledore dropped the protection spells on either side. Some were clapping, others were yelling, most were already reliving the duel. He heard Seamus in the background. "We should have charged a Galleon at least!"

"Well fought, Harry. Well fought," Dumbledore remarked as he took in the carnage.

They watched as friends performed countercharms and helped the students underneath the cargo net. Even they were in good spirits as the Headmaster picked out five more students that managed to hold on to their wands the longest. Harry spotted Neville Longbottom who had arrived to give Pyotr the antidote to the gobstones juice he himself created. Harry handed it to him and soon the Russian joined them rubbing his head from the slight ache which was a side effect of the juice.

Harry gave him a handshake and Pyotr smiled.

"I did not expect you to have anything other than your wand, Sir. Thank you for teaching me this valuable lesson."

Harry nodded. "Start your club next Monday. I suggest you get your assistants up to speed with your lesson plans."

Hermione snuck in under his arm and slid her hand around his waist. "You know, of course, they'll be talking about this for the rest of the year. Twenty-one to one ... really, Harry. Sometimes I think you just like to show off."

He falsely looked hurt. "I'm not the one who invited half of Hogwarts to watch me duel a prospective D.A. teacher, and I thought it would be a heck of a lot quicker to do it this way than to duel twenty-one people individually." He looked up, rather proud of himself. "So it was purely a time saving technique."

Behind him Ron coughed and then snickered. Harry turned around. "What are you laughing at?"

Ron smiled and held out his hand. "I just made ten Galleons off you, mate." He shook his head. "Those Durmstrang transfers didn't know what hit them."

"What, they thought I'd lose?"

Ron pocketed the coins. "No, they thought it would take you a lot longer. I told them ten minutes tops and it was over. Had me worried there for a moment. Nine minutes, thirty seconds."

Hermione scowled at him. "Ron, what if you lost?"

It was Ron's turn to look offended. "I would have paid them. I got a job with Fred and George over the summer. I had enough coin to cover."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "A job with Fred and George? So if any fireworks go off in my classroom I know who to call."

Ron laughed joyfully. "Never do that to you, mate."

They said their goodnights at the portrait of the Thin Lady and Harry sat at his desk letting his head clunk on the hard wood. Hermione walked on to the bathroom and changed for the night. When she came back out Harry was skimming through a text book.

"Seventh-years tomorrow?"

Harry looked up from the text. "Yeah, double first thing in the morning."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Well then I'll let you get back to studying." She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Don't stay up too late."

She started to turn and he snaked a hand around her waist pulling her into his lap.

"I've been a bad husband today."

Hermione leaned in and hugged him tightly. "Why's that?"

"I haven't asked you about the thing that happened on the third floor. Are you okay."

He felt her nod. "It's almost becoming second nature. I don't know what I'd ever do if something or someone wasn't trying to kill one of us every year. Probably be very boring."

Harry laughed. "I'd settle for a little boring in my life."

She leaned back and looked amused. "Not while I'm around Mr. Potter."

He shoved her up and spanked her lightly on her soft bottom. "Off to bed with you, Mrs. Potter. I have work to do."

The next morning, Harry escorted his wife to the third floor and made sure the room was secure before leaving for the Defense office with fifteen minutes to spare before class. He peeked out the classroom door and was pleased to see half the room already full and several people turn toward him with their wands raised. He laughed and closed the door back.

"I guess word got around," he said to himself.

He sat back at his chair waiting until the second bell rang for the beginning of class and stepped slowly out to walk downstairs with his hand fingering his wand. The students watched his progress until he reached the lectern, sat a folder with his lesson plans and a very thick stack of parchment down on the desk beside.

He recognized almost all of his students as his former classmates from years previous. There weren't quite as many in seventh year as not everyone could fit Defense class in with their seventh year workload, considering their chosen career path.

"Welcome to your last year of Defense Against the Dark Arts," he started and clasped his hands behind his back. "Most of the year we will be concentrating on getting you through your N.E.W.T.'s. "

He paused for a moment and picked out a Hufflepuff sitting on one end of the first row. "Megan would you come up and distribute the course syllabus to each of the rows. Take one and pass them down please."

"As I was saying, after only taking my N.E.W.T.'s last year I can assure you the test is as bad as rumored. My written was over two-hundred questions long and the practical consisted of two spells from each year, third and forward. It's your best guess as to what these are going to be."

Ron raised his hand. "Are you saying we have five years of Defense spells to memorize?"

Harry gave him a consoling nod. A few of the Hufflepuff's look ill, and most of the rest sighed, wearily.

"You'll see in your syllabus that we will spend the summer term in review of all previous years. So please trust me when I say, your personal life is over in seventh-year if you want to pass, much less score an Outstanding in any of your courses."

He opened his folder and pulled out his schedule. "If any of you have questions regarding this class, my office hours are posted on the board by the door along with after hours times that you may visit with me in my study on the seventh floor of Gryffindor Tower."

His face soured for a moment. "These times are allocated for class discussion only and anything pertaining to N.E.W.T. study, etcetera. Please do not come to me with frivolous questions that can be readily found in your text as I'm sure I will be quite busy with many seventh-years for the next few terms.

"I would further suggest for you to form study groups among your various houses and quiz each other relentlessly on obscure material because I can guarantee it will be on your written."

He looked down at the lesson plan and looked back up. "Any questions about anything I've just said?"

One of the transfer students from Durmstrang raised his hand and stood. "Sir, the schedule note's that we will be having night class this Friday in the Forbidden Forest? The Headmaster said at the Sorting Feast that the forest was off limits to students."

Harry nodded. "I'll be there to conduct class, Lev. I thought a practical lesson in meeting dark creatures in their natural habitat would be an interesting experience."

This sent a collective shudder throughout the class.

Harry smiled wickedly. "And contrary to popular belief there are no werewolves in the forest."

"Only giant spiders," Ron choked.

Half the class turned to see if Ron was joking and fear filled their eyes when they realized he wasn't. They looked back at Harry with nervous anxiety pouring off of them.

"I'd suggest that you start researching the different types of creatures that are indicative to this terrain and climate. It's best to know that a Stunning Charm only annoys a Picketfarrow and makes it want to only eat you that much slower." Then as an afterthought, "And you might want to make very good friends with Professor Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. He will be accompanying us and I for one always feel safe with him at my back. I suggest mulled wine and taking a keen interest in whatever he is doing for class that particular day."

Another hand raised, this time from Susan Bones. "Sir, about our Thesis ..."

"Yes?"

He saw a number of people flipping their parchment over and finding another long list of assignments on the back.

"We can pick any Curse?"

"Yes." And to the rest of the class, "You'll note in order to pass this course and qualify to take your N.E.W.T.'s you will be required to turn in twenty feet of parchment on a curse or family of related curses right after Easter break.

"The particulars are on your syllabus, but in general, you will research your topic, provide historic references, examples of use, defensive strategies, and so on. I expect your thesis statement on my desk by the end of the month for approval."

It was beginning to set in on each student exactly how much work was being expected in their seventh year and they hadn't even been to all of their classes as of yet.

"I know it seems overwhelming at first, and you're right, it is. This is why I highly suggest the study groups, and a little bit of advice: when you find people you can work with, choose similar curses or perhaps even the same curse, share your research materials."

He received a few looks of disbelief.

"I'm not saying to cheat. If I see two thesis' that are the same, both of you fail, and get to repeat the year or move on. This means you can have differing opinions on the same curse and use the same notes, thereby cutting your workload a lot."

He breathed in deeply and exhaled. "Any more questions we can cover next time. I'm sure you're uptight enough as it is without covering the entire year's work in a one class."

Harry smacked his hands together and smiled. "Now who wants to learn some new magic?"

9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"... and if I hear anyone mention the 'Theory of Defense Against the Dark Arts' again I'll dock points," Harry said half-heartily. "We had enough of that with Umbridge."

Most of the fifth-years laughed and filed out of the room as he packed away his lesson plans and took to the steps up to his office. Hedwig hooted annoyingly at a barn owl that had invaded her master's domain and made itself to home on his desk, clutching an envelope in it's beak.

After Harry pulled it away it flew off. He looked at the back to see who the addressee was and found a Ministry seal.

Upon opening the letter he was somewhat amused.

Dear Professor Potter,

Pursuant to Article 7 Subsection 3 Paragraph 17:

All Enchanters must be registered with the Improper

Use of Magic office no later than eight months after completion of training.

As you are in violation of Article 7 you are hereby notified that unless you immediately register you will be deemed in contempt of Ministry law and found guilty with fines and/or sentences applied.

Fines range no more than 5000 Galleons and sentences no more than one year in Azkaban Prison.

We expect your presence at the Ministry within the hour. Current time is 9:00 a.m.

Sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

"Hedwig, I've got a message for you."

Harry took a blank piece of parchment and scribbled a return letter.

Dear Hopkirk,

I see Fudge is gone but not forgotten.

Your owl is slow as a flobberworm in arriving, seeing as it is 11:00, and I was never informed of my requirement to register. So you may wait until this weekend where I will show up at my leisure or you can try to send someone to apprehend me at Hogwarts. You might want to send several someones as I will be armed and ready.

Don't forget to tell them that the only person St. Mungo's was able to find to take my Popping Boil Curse off of Bellatrix Lestrange, died this summer due to an illness.

Please give Minister Shaklebolt my best regards as I will be speaking to him about your threats upon my arrival.

Very Insincerely,

Harry Potter

Professor

Head of House, Gryffindor

Order of Merlin First Class

(For defeating Voldemort in wand to wand combat, just in case you've forgotten.)

"You think all the titles are too much, Hedwig?"

The snowy owl hooted negatively.

"Nah, I didn't think so."

*******************

"You didn't!" exclaimed Hermione as she was spooning potatoes onto her plate.

Harry cut into his smoked salmon. "I've hated that office ever since our second year when they blamed me for Dobby dropping that pudding at the Dursley's. Talk about a totally worthless law. And a waste of money, actually paying someone to be that annoying"

"They do serve a purpose, Harry. Imagine if students that didn't know what they were doing starting using magic anywhere they wanted."

He shook his head and swallow the fish. "Having a qualified Witch or Wizard observing us as we practice or train during the summer is against the law. They would be there to watch over us. I never saw what the big deal was with using magic at the Burrow, for instance."

She nodded. "You may have a point there, but what if they decide to take you up on your offer and send twenty Auror's here to take you back."

He stopped mid-way in taking another bite. "Um ... So you're saying that I might have overreacted?"

She squinted her eyes and held her hand up, pinching her fingers together. "Maybe a tad."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's no big deal, they deserve it."

Hermione looked confused. Her eyebrows knitted in observance of her husband. "Harry, what has gotten into you lately?"

"Hmm?"

"It's like you've become a lot more aggressive."

He shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

She started ticking off her fingers. "I heard about your little practical assault on your seventh-years, taking on twenty-one students at once in front of half the school, coming right out and daring the Ministry to send a gaggle of Auror's after you, and if I didn't know any better I'd think you'd be excited if they actually did show up to take you in."

"I think you're make something out of nothing, Hermione. I was just hacked off at being sent another stupid letter saying I was gonna have my wand snapped or be thrown in front of the Wizengamot for something that is none of their bleedin' business."

He looked down at his plate realizing her had just lost his appetite. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Hermione placed her hand on his forearm. "Harry, I'm not trying to make you angry. I'm just concerned about you."

"I better get going. I've got some fourth-years to torture."

He rose from his seat.

"Harry, sit down and lets talk about this, please."

He sighed and looked defeated. "I'm tired, Hermione. It's been a long couple of days, okay."

She pursed her lips and looked worried. "Go rest for a bit." Grabbing his hand before he turned away she said, "Harry ... I love you."

A smile came to his face, and it was gone just as fast. "I know. I love you too."

He bent down and pecked her cheek before stepping off the dais and strode between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables to exit the Great Hall. Outside the doors, he closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, sighing once again.

"Professor Potter."

Harry opened his eyes to see a first year Gryffindor in front of him. "Yes, um ... Julie, is it?"

She smiled slightly at his recognition of her name. "Yes, Sir." She looked away for a moment. "Sir, I ... that is."

Harry saw concern or nervousness about her demeanor. "Julie, I was about to step outside and get a breath of fresh air. Would you like to join me?"

Her eyes lightened. "Yes, Sir. Thank you."

As they opened the door a cool autumn breeze brew back his robes and sent the smell of the forest into his face. He took a deep breath and blew it out, relaxing somewhat.

"Good day for Quidditch," he said.

"Yes, Sir," responded Julie.

"What's on your mind?"

"I talked to Ginny, Sir."

Harry took a couple of steps down the steps and turned around so that he was on a more even footing with the first-year. "Is something wrong, Julie?"

"Sort of, Sir. See there's this fourth-year boy, a Slytherin."

"Who?"

"Marcus Evertum."

Julie's face was becoming red and she looked very uncomfortable.

"I can't help unless I know what it is he did."

Her hands came together and twitched. "Do you know what a Mudblood is, Sir?"

Harry felt his teeth gnash together. "Yes, It's a term used to make people of Muggle parentage feel less than what they are. The people who use this term are usually ignorant and mostly lacking in any redeemable quality."

She smirked, but still twittered with her fingers. "He made it sound so ..."

"Dirty?" he offered.

"Yes, Sir."

"Julie, did you know some of the greatest Wizards and Witches have been born to Muggle parents?"

She looked up, hopefully. "No, Sir."

He smiled softly back at her. "Did you know that my mother and my wife were born to Muggle parents?"

Her eyes widened. "Mrs. Potter? But wasn't she top of her class?"

Harry nodded. "Scored Outstanding on all of her N.E.W.T.'s"

"Wow!"

"Yeah." He leaned in so that it seemed like he was telling a secret. "And just between you and me ... There aren't that many purebloods left at least not enough where they all aren't related to each other in some way."

She didn't seem to understand, so Harry clarified. "The only way to keep being a Pureblood usually means they have to marry their own cousins."

A look of disgust came over her face. "EEeewwww!"

He squinched up his face like he had just eaten something very sour and nodded with her assessment. "So, I tend to think that being a 'Mudblood' is a good thing if you ask me."

"Me too. Ugh."

Harry nodded and stood back up straight. "Next time he says something like that, you think about what I just told you and laugh at him and what he has to do in the future." He thought on it for a moment. "And I personally wouldn't take away any points if you threw it back in his face."

She brightened at the thought and almost clapped her hands in response. "Thank you Professor Potter! Oh, I have to go tell Cynthia! Bye, Sir."

"Bye, Julie," he waved.

The time on his watch showed his fourth-year class was about to convene, and he thought about Marcus Evertum. Taking one more breath of fresh air he strode inside and made his way, with determination to the Defense classroom.

"Evertum, I thought a pureblood such as yourself would have been more prepared for class than this," Harry commented with disappointment. "Twenty points from Slytherin, I think."

"But, Sir ..." he said as his face paled.

"It's a simple shield spell, Evertum." And then to the class. "Are there any Muggleborn's in the class today?"

At least a quarter of the class raised their hands self-consciously.

Harry swatted the response away. "Come now. Muggleborn's and Halfblood's, raise your hands."

Almost three-quarters acknowledged him this time. This lighted his face. "Very good. And how many of you plan on marrying your cousins when you come of age?"

There were a couple of snickers and one outright laugh from the back of the class, but no takers to his question.

"Come on, there has to be someone that wants to marry their cousin ... no?"

He shrugged. "I assume the rest of you are Pureblood, hmm?"

Harry grabbed Marcus' arm and raised his hand for him. "Pureblood right here. Pure as the driven snow. Not a Muggleborn or Half-blood anywhere in that bloodline; I can tell you that right now."

He looked, with empathy, back down at Marcus. "Guess we know who'll you'll be marrying in the future. Can't mess up that bloodline can we?"

Marcus was now as red as the apple that Harry had for breakfast that morning. He took this time to lean down so that only the Slytherin could hear him. "If I hear about you taunting any of my Gryffindor's or any other student for that matter about their proud heritage I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?"

The color drained away from Marcus' face and he nodded.

"I didn't hear you, Evertum."

"Yes, Sir."

Harry smiled and slapped him on the back. "Wonderful. Just peachy. Glad we got that cleared up."

He straightened back up. "Return to your seat."

Harry turned to the lectern and leaned heavily on it. "Simple prejudice. Can anyone tell me the last instance this got a number of people killed?"

"Killed, Sir?" a Hufflepuff girl in the front row asked.

"Killed, yes. In fact it started a war or ten here and there over the last century.

Silence ruled the room.

"I know Professor Binns is somewhat boring, but at some of you should have managed to stay awake a time or two in his class for the last three years?"

Still there was nobody to give an answer. He didn't know if it was because they truly didn't know or were just scared to say something.

"Do the names Hindissburg, or Fatherton mean anything to anyone? No .. how about Grindelwald? Voldemort?"

He saw a couple of people flinch at the mention of Voldemort's name.

"All of them had a simple prejudice against people they thought were beneath them. The funny part about them though was they were all born of what they hated most. Voldemort was a Half-blood, Grindelwald was a Muggleborn. Why am I telling you about this? Two feet of parchment on two of the four Dark Lords I just mentioned by Monday, and why their stupid prejudices got them where they are today."

He slammed his notes and stormed away. "Dismissed."

10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Harry's mood hadn't improved for his second-year class, but he was able to hold it in and not snap at anyone or dock points for overly silly reasons. All the same he hid in his office and sulked for thirty or so minutes before he was interrupted.

The door to the second floor corridor opened and in swept Minerva McGonagall.

"Harry, are you busy at the moment."

He sat up and then stood. "No, Ma'am."

"Good, then you have time to Apparate to the Ministry and register as an Enchanter, then?"

Harry scowled. "I take it someone contacted Dumbledore."

She smirked, which for McGonagall was a first, normally nobody would ever see her with anything but a stoic expression. "It seems as if a contingent of Aurors has found something that needs immediate attention and are unable to come collect you."

Harry stood up. "Is it about the Knights?"

"No, Harry." It was McGonagall's turn to scowl. "Minister Shaklebolt has informed the headmaster about your threat to his staff and would like you to come in peaceably. Apparently he was going to take you up on your offer to take you down a peg or two, but couldn't find anyone to volunteer. Your ever-lasting Popping Boil Hex has left an impression on their minds."

Harry suddenly found a quill on his desk that was demanding almost all of his attention. "Sorry."

"It is not me you should be apologizing to, Harry." She paused for a moment. What has angered you so much, or should I ask?"

He dropped down in his chair and sighed. "It's everything, well not everything ... just the Knights thing and ... I'm not used to people coming after Hermione. It's supposed to be me they're after."

She held her hand out to the armchair in from of his desk. "May I?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor. Please, sit down."

"Thank you." She swept her robes under her and relaxed in the chair. "Now you get to experience what all of have for the last six years."

He looked up. "Come again?"

"It's very hard to see someone you care about in danger. Your friends have always been in peril in one form or another merely by associating with you. This is the first occurrence where you are not involved, taking the place of your friends and they in yours."

Harry twisted his neck to relieve some of the tension that had been building up. "So you're saying I should quit being mad over something I can't control?"

"No, I'm saying quit taking your anger out on those of us that have nothing to do with your problems." She pursed her thin lips. "Professor Snape has informed me of your treatment of one of his house."

Harry almost stood up again with indignation. "He what!"

McGonagall nodded. "Specifically singling out Pure-blood's with insulting remarks and exaggerated punishments."

Harry started laughing. "That's rich. Snape complaining about being mean to a student."

She looked like she was trying not to laugh.

"Did he also tell you about how this particular fourth year student was tormenting one of my first-years, calling her Mudblood and the like?" he said in defense. "I was merely pointing out that there are not a lot of Prue-blooded wizards left and to keep the livestock from being polluted they'd have to breed with one another."

She looked somewhat shocked. "Harry ..."

"And if you're wondering why this had to be pointed out in class, I made it specifically known that the last four dark lords had all come to power with these same idiotic views and prejudices. Their homework for the week delves into the this area, so it is not punishment."

"I see."

Harry stood up and grabbed his cloak off the back of his chair, swinging it around his shoulders.

"I will be keep a close eye on his treatment of my students and believe me I will be reporting every infraction that the 'Greased One' makes," he snapped. "If he wants to play this game I can play too."

"Potter," McGonagall said as she rose to her full height from the armchair. "I did not come here to be spoken to in such a manner and I'll remind you to whom you are speaking." The prim look on her face had returned and intimidation was beginning to radiate from her body language. "I was not pointing out the treatment as I am fully aware of the circumstances regarding the situation.

"I am, however, singling out Professor Snape's reaction as you will probably be hearing more about it as the news of the Prue-blood's family heritage reaches their ears. I wanted you to be prepared."

He leaned forward on his desk, not believing what he was hearing. "Are you saying I shouldn't respond."

"Harry, however inbred the Prue-bloods are I can assure you that they comprise a very influential portion of the Board of Governors and the wizarding community at large. I can almost guarantee you that pressure will be brought to bear on the headmaster for a formal apology and/or your dismissal."

"You're joking!"

"No, I'm not." she said flatly. "Considering the events of yesterday ..."

"Do you want me to quit?"

Her scowl returned. "Don't be stupid, Harry."

He looked down and shook his head. "They can collectively kiss my buttocks if they want an apology and I'll tell them so."

"I don't think that will be necessary, and I daresay Hermione might have a thing or to about you baring your buttocks to the Governors."

Harry stopped and noticed McGonagall's joke, as dry as it was. "You're trying to make me laugh ... it won't work."

She smiled and turned to the door. "I am trying to lighten your mood, Harry, for the sake of the Ministry of Magic, when you show up to register. Don't take your anger out on them." She paused before stepping out in the hall. "At least not on a permanent basis."

He walked over, opened a window leaned his head out and took a deep cleansing breath. Thinking about Dumbledore's lemon drops that he kept stored in the top drawer of his desk he whipped around and strode out of the office and downstairs to the front gates of Hogwarts. The walk over gave him time to clear his head where he thought about everything McGonagall said.

He wasn't concerned with the Board of Governors or the Pure-bloods of the world. For all their power they were only an inbred people that were slowly fading away. What he was concerned with was the Ministry of Magic and their apparent need to control the people around them.

He'd thought with Shacklebolt's appointment to the Minister's seat that he'd actually get a break from the politicking in his life. But things were seeming back to what they felt was normal. The next thing he might be seeing was his reputation being raked through the Daily Prophet once more. Not that he was ever worried about that.

The Prophet had tried their best before and during the war to make him out to be a crackpot or an attention seeker, but they could never hold it for long. Eventually the truth always came out and they would reverse their opinion. Maybe it was time to give Luna's father a call and do another interview to set things straight before news of his insults of the Pure-bloods got out of hand again.

At his approach, the gates to Hogwarts opened and he stepped through. Turning to make sure they closed thus insuring that the wards that surrounded the school were intact and working he Disapparated to the Atrium level of the Ministry of Magic.

The Atrium was much as he remembered it from previous visits except for the attention given to him by the security guard at the desk where he normally stopped.

"I'm suppose to confiscate your wand, Sir ... until you leave."

Harry's teeth ground together in response. "I'll tell you what ... if you think you can take it from me, I'll surrender."

"Er ..." the guard stammered.

"I thought so." He headed off to the lift. "Tell them I'm on my way up to register if you want. I'm sure to need a greeting party, I suppose."

He listened to the female voice indicating the various levels and their functions until he arrived at level two and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement which contained the Improper Use of Magic Office where he stepped off.

The floor was relatively quiet as he looked around. He was gripping his wand tightly in expectation of being attacked at any moment. He wasn't familiar with the exact location of the office, but seeing the rest of the floor on two previous occasions let him know it wasn't to the right so he chose to turn left and follow the hallway down to a longer extension noting several other offices on the way until he found his intended destination.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax before opening the door. As he reached for the knob an itching at the back of his neck unnerved him and he brought his wand up, whispering, "Protego!" and then, "Alohomora!

The door clicked opened and he reached out to push it the rest of the way. "Hello," he stayed at the door and called out. "I'm Harry Potter and I'm looking for Hopkirk."

"Stupefy!"

Harry didn't even flinch when the Stunning Charm rebounded off of his shield and struck the person casting it. Instead he raised his own wand and strode through the door. "Okay, who's the prat that tried to ambush me?"

A middle-aged lady sitting at a counter that ran the length of the room parallel to the hall looked very nervous at the figure standing before her. "That would be the Minister of Magic."

He looked left then right to make sure there was nobody else, and leaned over the counter. There laying on the floor, unconscious, was Kingsley Shaklebolt.

Harry showed his disappointment in his friend on his face and leaned in. "You'd be Hopkirk if I don't miss my guess."

She didn't answer which to Harry was answer enough.

"I'm here to register as an Enchanter."

She nodded and set a clipboard along with attached parchment on the counter. It mostly required statistical information: parentage, birth date, mentor, current residence and other useless facts that were well known to anyone who actually cared to look them up for themselves. When he signed his name at the bottom indicating that the facts above were to his knowledge true, blah, blah, blah, he heard a familiar clomp, click, clomp, click coming down the hall.

Harry dropped the quill and raised his wand. "Kloud!"

It was one of a few spells that rendered Mad Eye Moody's magical eye useless; all the ex-Auror would see upon looking into the office was a misty fog.

As an extra precaution he took two steps to the side of the door. The clicking of Moody's wooden leg stopped and his voice rose from the hallway. "I'm not here to arrest you, Potter. Just came to see what happened to Shaklebolt. He was supposed to be teaching you a lesson in humiliation right about now."

Harry laughed. "He's on the floor behind the counter, stunned."

He heard a raspy chuckle from behind the door. "Mind if I come in and not get stunned? Just got this new eye and I'd don't want to get it dirty rolling around all over the floor."

"Sure, just make sure your wand's tucked away, please."

The door cracked open and two hands popped through, wandless.

"Hi, Mad Eye," said Harry. "I was registering and about ready to leave."

Moody leaned over the counter and shook his head. "Told him not to rattle you."

Harry sheathed his own wand. "Just for the record, he stunned himself."

Moody shrugged. "Must be getting soft sitting behind his desk all day. So what's all this tripe about you getting a big head and going dark?"

Harry turned to Hopkirk. "Is that what she said?"

The middle aged witch lady behind the counter grinned half-heartedly and muttered, "A-heh."

He rolled his eyes. "She part of Fudge's old regime. Had it in for me since I was twelve. Every year it's something about how I've broken some obscure Ministry law and must be punished, have my wand broken, fined, and what was it this time ... thrown in Azkaban for not having completed some useless paperwork about where I live that I was never told to fill out in the first place."

Mad Eye's revolving eye stopped and centered on Hopkirk. "That about the size of it, girly?" Then he saw the paperwork that Harry had filled out still sitting on the counter. "Well then if it's such important Ministry business to know where Harry Potter is throwing his bunk for the night shouldn't you be filing that someplace where nobody will every look at it again?"

"Yes, Sir." Hopkirk grabbed the paperwork and scurried off to another room.

Moody leaned over the counter and pointed. "Do you mind?"

Harry shrugged and pulled out his wand "Ennervate!"

"Shaklebolt get up," hollered Moody. "You're embarrassing the Ministry." Then under his breath, "Not that it needs any help."

Harry kept his wand out just in case Kingsley got any bright ideas about a little payback. The large dark man scrambled up and appeared even darker once he caught Harry's eye.

"Is there a reason you wanted to stun me, Minister?"

Moody leaned on the counter, very interested in what Kingsley was going to say.

The minister's face soured briefly. "I was going to teach you a lesson in humility, but it seems to have backfired."

"Uh-huh," replied Harry. "I was ordered to appear before the Improper Use of Magic Office and register as an Enchanter. Right after classes, that I am also required to teach, were over I Apparated here and was told I had to surrender my wand."

"Never surrender your wand, Potter," Moody snuck in.

"Right, something you taught me well, Mad Eye. Anyway, it was register here or be thrown in Azkaban, so I did what was required and the Minister of Magic himself tries to stun me to teach me a lesson. Someone who I thought was my friend."

"Harry ..." Shaklebolt started.

"I'm done with you. I'm done with the Ministry. I was your weapon to kill Voldemort and I did. So leave me alone." Harry turned to the door. "If I so much as hear a hint of someone from this place thinking about interfering in my life again, ordering me to do something, or even inviting me to tea, I'll hex the lot of you."

"Starting to sound like me," snickered Moody. "And he's only seventeen."

He was about to grab the doorknob to exit when Moody stopped him. "Hold it, Potter." And then to the door. "Stand down, you lot. Anyone who raises a wand answers to me!"

They waited for a second and Harry got the okay from Moody to leave. There were four Aurors waiting for him. Apparently the disposition of their Minister was enough for four of them to volunteer to check out what was going on.

Harry eyed each of them in turn and spun back to the Minister. "Keep an eye out for the Quibbler, Kingsley. I think it's time for another interview."

Moody closed the door behind them and Harry was comforted with the clomp, click of the ex-Auror watching his back. When they reached the lift He held the door open as Moody stepped in and turned to face the front.

"What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were done with the Ministry."

He snorted in resignation. "Amelia Bones had to take some personal time off and Shaklebolt wanted me to watch over the department for a couple of weeks. Since he rose to Minister there's nobody he trusts enough and has more experience in law enforcement than me."

"So you got drafted?"

They rode down the length of the shaft where Harry was thinking on something hard enough to shut him up for a few moments, or at least until the doors opened again.

Moody led the way through security again and when they had arrived near the fountain Harry asked one more question. "Ever thought of getting back into teaching, or at least actually making it to a classroom to teach?"

"Me? Hah!"

Clomp, click.

"Most of the Board of Governors can't stand me ... put a few too many of their relatives away. Dumbledore only got by with it because he pulled a lot of proverbial strings. And look how that turned out."

Harry nodded. "So if the opportunity came up and you could teach a class the way you wanted ... you wouldn't shove the idea off?"

Moody became suspicious. "What are you angling at, Potter?"

He looked deep in thought again. "Hmm? Just thinking." He extended his hand and Moody took it in turn. "Thanks for the help. You going to be here for a bit, then?"

The ex-Auror nodded. "At least two weeks."

"Great, let me think on something for a little bit, run it by Hermione. I'll send Hedwig to you with something, and I'd appreciate you taking a look for me."

Both of Moody's eyes settled on the young man before him. "Watch your back, Potter. There's many a person that wants to put a knife in it."

"I know."

11. Battle Plans

Chapter 11

Harry Apparated at Hogsmeade Station as he didn't want to be sighted by anyone at Hogwarts while he thought over his situation. He strolled down High Street nodding at the shop keepers that marked his passing. While the wizarding town wasn't the busiest he'd ever been in, which consisted of two, he noticed that there was a fair amount of pedestrian traffic.

From the reaction from some people, that he once considered ... friends was too strong of a word, but ally was close enough, it seemed as if he was about to go on the outs with the wizarding public once more.

No doubt the Board of Governors would be notified about his opinion of elitist Pure-blood families and he would be called before them as a knee-jerk reaction encouraged by the more influential parents of those that thought there should be a separation between type based on blood.

Eventually the Daily Prophet would get their two Knuts in and make him out to be an egomaniac once more. Dumbledore would get pressure from the Board and the parents to sack him and might even be hoisted out himself, for the third time. And with no immanent threat to the wizarding community at large Hermione would be tossed out of Hogwarts as he was sure the Ministry would delegate a new Headmaster that would have their own best interests at heart.

For the last six years he had always been on the defensive when it came to the public and their views, ignoring what they had to say until it became in own best interests to do something about it in response. This time he had to do something before the proverbial dragon dung hit the breakfast floor.

**************************

"Is this becoming a habit or what?" said Ron staring around the Defense office.

Harry, Hermione, Luna, and he were waiting for Ginny and Neville.

"They'll be here in a minute," replied Harry

"At least you had the sense enough to do it after dinner this time."

Harry smiled. "I'm always thinking about you, Ron."

"Appreciate that, mate."

Footsteps coming up the classroom stairway announced the arrival of the last two members of the Order of the Dog Star. When greetings were done, Harry locked the door and placed an Imperturbable Charm on the room.

"Harry, why all the secrecy?" asked Hermione.

"You don't know what this is about, Hermione?" said a shocked Ginny.

Harry intervened. "No, she doesn't, and this doesn't necessarily involved any of you but Hermione and myself so feel free to leave at anytime you aren't interested in what I have to say."

"This sounds familiar," mumbled Neville. "Who are we going after this time?"

Harry pulled his arms around his back and grasped his hands together. "The Ministry of Magic."

He waited for a moment for what he said to sink in and let the inevitable comment from Ron set the stage.

"Alright then, let me go get my broom. Attack at dawn okay with you?" He paused. "Are you mad?"

Harry smiled. "I'm not talking about attacking the Ministry by force."

He relayed the events of the last couple of days so that everyone was on the same piece of parchment, ending with his thoughts of an attack of wits, values, and solidarity. Hermione was noticeably silent throughout the entire speech.

"What exactly to you have in mind, Harry," Luna asked while picking a thread off of Ron's robes and brushing the material flat.

Harry looked at his wife. "I want to get Hermione to safety, away from whoever is saying they are the Knights of Walpurgis. I want to let the everyone know that we've had it with talk of strong-arming those that aren't wealthy enough to have a prominent voice. I want to create such a wedge in our society that they have to change the rules or suffer the consequences."

Hermione leaned forward. "Harry, you're talking about changing tradition that has stood for thousands of years. Nothing short of a major civil war is going to make that happen."

"Exactly.."

Neville was becoming extremely uncomfortable. "I don't like the sound of this, Harry."

He shook his head. "I'm not speaking of fighting anyone with magic." He paused to take a breath. "I want to do something that will separate those that believe as we do and those that don't, so that once those in power actually see what's happening they'll have to change or resign themselves to extinction or mutation in less than four generations."

Hermione looked up. "What?"

"What I said to my fourth year class was true, I wasn't making it up."

By now everyone had already heard the rumor-mill's version of Harry's speech.

"I noticed it back when Sirius shown me his family on that tapestry at Grimmauld Place; you remember the one."

Ron, Hermione and Ginny nodded.

"The Pure-blood families are soon approaching last generation before they start inbreeding to 2nd and even 1st cousins. I really don't think people realize how closely related the Prue-bloods are."

Ron was surprised at this. "What?"

"Ron, do you and Ginny know that you're related to the Malfoy's ... second cousin twice removed."

The look of horror on Ron Weasley's face was almost traumatic.

"I'm Dumbledore's great great grand nephew-in-law. Neville, your mother is Ron's third cousin on his mother's side."

They was all aghast and blinking furiously in astonishment.

"Harry, how do you know all of this?" asked Luna who suddenly seemed very interested in the conversation.

Harry reached behind him and pulled out a large black book that he had removed from Grimmauld Place two summers previous during their cleansing of the house Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, and showed them.

Ron became very nervous and turned to Luna. "We ... we're not ... "

Luna waved him off. "My grandparents are Muggles and my father is a Half-blood. If we're related it's not by much."

His friend sighed with relief.

He motioned to Ginny and Neville. "And you two are third cousins, twice removed so you're safe."

Neville's eyes went wide and darted to Ron. Ginny blushed and covered her face. "Harry!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "What, you think I don't see the googily-eyes you two make at each other at the dinner table? Everyone already knows. You might as well go public."

Neville sighed with relief at not having Ron pouncing from his seat with a brother's vengeance.

"So you've have a really good reason," Hermione started. "But we are speaking about fifty or even a hundred more years before it starts becoming an major issue, considering the life spans of the average witch or wizard."

Harry shook his head. "This is a side issue, something to get the Quaffle flying. The main issue is to get these idiotic laws changed, put more power in to the hands of the people, and keep you safe."

Luna leaned back in her chair. "You sound very idealistic, Harry."

He smirked. "Luna, I'm seventeen. I'm supposed to be idealistic."

"So what's the plan?" asked Ron.

Harry shrugged. "I have to look into the possibility of what it will cost to find some private land that isn't under the jurisdiction of the any Ministry, and then build a school."

"A what?" someone said, Harry wasn't paying attention.

"A school and then a community like Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley put together. Someplace where people can go to live and not be taunted for being what they are."

Hermione shook her head. "It wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

She sighed. "You're doing the one thing that the elitist Pure-bloods want you to do, namely leave."

Harry thought on it for a second. "How about if I were to give the land away? Help people build their own homes."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Harry, it's a nice idea, but even you don't have that kind of money and the idea is highly unrealistic."

He grimaced. "That's one of the reasons I brought you all here. I want you to shoot holes in all of this so I can make it work."

Luna stood up and started pacing. "I suggest ..."

"Hold on a second. I need to know if you all are with me on this before we go any further."

Hermione was first. "Harry, you know I'm with you, but I think in this instance we need to make thorough and very detailed plans before any of us commits. This isn't a question of friendship or loyalty. It's about a whole new way of life." She paused for a moment. "What you are suggesting might very well affect the entire wizarding community in Great Britain, not to mention the ramifications world wide."

He nodded. "Explain."

"Well for starters, in essence what you are talking about is setting up a new government."

"I don't want to do that, I just want a place where we are left alone," he replied.

She nodded, "And who is responsible for keeping us hidden from the Muggle world. Who will enforce the limited law that you are proposing? Who will dictate curriculum at the school? Who will interact with the other governments in the world on the communities behalf?"

Harry held up his hands. "I get your point."

Luna came back with, "Not that your idea of a school that is privately run is not a good notion, Harry. You have no one to answer to but yourself since it won't be Ministry sponsored. I would even hazard to guess you might be able to talk teachers from Hogwarts into positions there."

Ginny nodded. "I know they weren't too happy with what was going on when the Ministry interfered with us two years ago."

That was an understatement.

"The students would still have to be tested in O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s, but that's about it," Hermione added.

"Have you talked to Dumbledore about this?" asked Neville.

Harry shook his head. "No, he has a habit of shooting down my ideas and I want to have all sides covered before I act."

Ron leaned forward. "The teachers will follow Dumbledore, whatever he does."

"Wouldn't it be simpler to just take over Hogwarts?" asked Ginny. "I mean if it's Ministry sponsored and all can't we just tell them to take a hike?"

"Um ..."

She continued. "I mean we already have everything here, Hogsmeade, the castle ... you know ... everything."

Ron smiled. "Out of the mouth of little sisters."

Hermione smiled. "We already have a town here. If you want to Harry you can buy up a lot of the surrounding land and bring in a support system like that. You already have a local government that is dependent on Hogwarts business and would have to conform or lose it's largest source of income. Ginny, that's a brilliant idea."

Neville looked on. "Harry, not to be indelicate, but do you have that kind of money?"

Harry was deep in thought about how he could present this to Dumbledore, and just nodded. "I need to start doing it now, before my name is in the bin again."

"I think that would be the smartest move for now. You'll never lose money on land anyway; the price always goes up. If it doesn't work out you can always sell it later," Hermione noted.

Harry nodded. "Good. Great. Now what can we do about the Ministry?"

"You said it yourself, Harry," Luna said. "The people with the money have all the power. Take it away from them."

"Excuse me?"

"I assume that with the new residences that will be occupying the land around Hogwarts that it will bring in new business as well. You might want to talk to the Diagon Alley Business Council and see if you can talk them into moving. Perhaps St. Mungo's, and the smaller business as well. Offering updated buildings and a guaranteed cliental."

Hermione jumped in. "They would lose a significant amount of business if they lost the Hogwarts students, too." She looked at Luna. "Are you sure you weren't considered for Slytherin?"

"Like Hermione said, I wouldn't be able to afford construction of a new town. What about the money?"

Ron came up with an idea. "Harry, you're an Enchanter."

"And?"

Ron laughed. "If you sold your services you could name your own prices. Plus, once you sharpen up your Transfiguration skills, everything you transfigure would be permanent. There are plenty of natural resources around here. Your cost on supplies would be nothing; you can transfigure anything you need. All you need is someone to put it together."

Ginny started to smile like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. "This might actually work."

"Luna, you think your dad might be up for another interview?"

She smiled. "I'll contact him."

"Good, Hermione, see if you can get a hold of Rita Skeeter."

Her mouth twisted up. "She's back to work for the Prophet."

Ginny laughed. "Considering how many printings Harry sold of the Quibbler with his last article, I think they might actually do him justice this time. At least if you get your name out before the Governors find you're moving against them."

Harry moved to the door dispersing the Imperturbable Charm. "I'm going to Dumbledore now. If he goes along with us then we'll start tomorrow."

"What about us?" asked Ron.

He stopped and turned. "Ron, I want you to get a hold of your dad. See what kind of reaction we can expect from the Ministry, and if there are any legal issues we might have to deal with. Ginny I want a list of any student's family that you think might be interested in moving, starting a business, in Hogsmeade, or who just plain have it in for the Ministry. Neville, contact your Gran. Were going to need some connections to St. Mungo's decision makers and idea people.

"Hermione, lawyers, barristers, solicitors, whatever wizards use; we'll need a team. Luna, after you get a hold of your father, see if he might know who to talk to about purchasing the land in and around Hogsmeade."

He stopped and smiled. "Good work tonight. You guys are great."

12. Oath Takers

Chapter 12

"Do you ever leave this office?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore looked up from his endless supply of parchmentwork. "Harry, do come in. Registered as an Enchanter I hear?"

"Yes, Sir."

He smiled briefly under his flowing silver beard. "Kingsley flooed and sends his apologies for a serious misunderstanding. He said he would have spoken to you directly however you seemed to be in a bit of a snit when you left."

"A misunderstanding? Is that what he's calling it when you ambush someone who's following directions?" Then Harry shook his head to dismiss the subject. "That's not what I'm here to talk about -- at least not in whole."

Dumbledore held out a hand to the armchair in front of his desk and then crossed his hands together, in front of him on the desk.

Harry felt the old uneasiness return to the pit of his stomach from whenever he came to Dumbledore with a problem.

"Is this in regard your rather controversial speech to your fourth-years?"

Harry nodded. "In part."

The headmaster looked like he was chewing on the inside of his lip. "Let me see: Partly because of the ruling Prue-blood class and partly because of Ministry interference in your life. Hmm."

Harry closed his eyes and laughed to himself at Dumbledore's fascination for puzzling problems. He watched as the wrinkles of his face deepened slightly and his eyes drew back to his own.

" I have reached two disturbing conclusions, Harry."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Either you and Hermione will be leaving us very soon or you will be staying and doing something very disquieting."

Harry pursed his lips and nodded. "It depends on your reaction, Sir. Whether you are with us or against us."

"Is there no middle ground, Harry?"

"No, Sir."

"I see."

Dumbledore opened his candy dish and withdrew a lemon drop, popping it in his mouth.

"What is your proposal?"

Harry straightened in his chair. "I've started the process of buying all of the land surrounding Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. By tomorrow I will have interviews with a number of people in the magical community and I plan on bringing a number of residents and businesses to this area."

"You are staging an economic coup of the Ministry of Magic." Dumbledore concluded.

Harry hadn't thought about it that way but he agreed with the definition. "Yes, Sir."

The headmaster rose from his chair and turned to Fawkes, picking up a treat and feeding the colorful Phoenix. Harry leaned back in his chair now that the revelation was unveiled, and gave the old wizard time to think his wizened thoughts.

Several minutes passed as Dumbledore paced the floor seemingly coming to one conclusion and then reversing himself a number of times. Eventually he stopped and turned to Harry.

"Tell me your plan."

He recounted the conversation that the Order of the Dog Star had only a short time ago, minus the names. He wanted Dumbledore to know that this was his idea and nobody else's until he found out what side his mentor was on.

He found his chair again and sat in behind the desk as Harry finished the ideas that were brought up.

"An intriguing idea, Harry. And what is your reasoning behind the coup?"

Here was the most important portion of the conversation and Harry knew it. "Sir, the wizarding community has been stagnant for thousands of years. A large portion of the laws that have been enacted are those that would benefit the ruling class with no thought as to what the average wizard's needs are.

"In return the teachings and laws encourage ill feelings toward one portion of the community or the other, giving rise to the notion that in order to be someone you must possess either money, power, or pure wizarding blood. Usually all three. My plan is to put the power back into the hands of the common wizard, and not have any ruling board in charge for any long length of time.

"The Ministry only elects a new minister if the old one dies, is fired, or quits. It leaves too much room for corruption. The Wizengamot is mostly comprised of Witches and Wizards that have gotten bogged down in tradition, money, and laws as to be unchangeable for simplicities sake. It needs new blood and a lot of it, and not just Pure-blood."

He took a deep breath and continued.

"Like it or not, true Prue-bloods are coming to an end lest they desire mating with their own brothers and sisters, and that has to be reflected in the leadership. Muggleborns, Half-bloods, and Prue-bloods all need to be in the ruling council. This will happen no other way than with a revolt of one kind or another. "

Dumbledore interrupted. "And you will be in charge of this new world order?"

Harry stopped and thought about it for a moment. "Yes and no. In your own words to me in my sixth year. I will be the catalyst. Once a sufficient number of families and businesses have been brought in to actually make a difference, the community would hold regular elections to the limited government with limited terms of office."

"And what of the Current Ministry of Magic and Wizengamot?" Dumbledore asked.

"What about them?"

"Do you think they will idly sit buy and let you take away their power, their businesses, and their way of life?"

"I'm not concerned about them. This will be accomplished by the will of the people. If it's their will that they wish things to stay the same and not take me up on my offer then Hermione and I will leave."

Dumbledore considered. "And lastly, Harry. Why come to me?"

"Because, Sir. You of all people know what a mess the Ministry is in. Kingsley, while a nice guy and a good Auror is not a very efficient Minister. In the year that he has been in charge have you seen any significant change in our way of life?

"I'm not saying he's corrupt, but he doesn't seem to have the power to change the policies that need changing. You know I'm right and you have the courage to stand behind me while this is going on. You are right in saying the Ministry, the Wizengamot, and the current ruling class will not stand by while their livelihood and powerbase is threaded. But between us, as leaders in this new idea, I think we will be able to prevent them from strong-arming us through threats of imprisonment or worse."

Dumbledore nodded. "It is indeed the 'worse' that I am worried about."

Harry thought he had lost, that Dumbledore would say that he wasn't going to go along with his idea and a pang of regret sat in his stomach at having to leave the only home he had known for over six years.

"Very well. Proceed with your acquisitions and your plans. I will see what I may accomplish from behind the scenes, as it were, for the time being. We will need the acquiescence of the current professors for their continuation in with their positions at Hogwarts. And I will contact those in power that think as we do on the matter. I will not promise you that we will be successful. However I do believe it is the proper course of action that will possibly save our race from ourselves."

Harry walked with new determination and conviction back to his rooms for the evening and was not too surprised to find Hermione with her head in the fireplace talking to Rita Skeeter. When she heard Harry enter she said her goodbyes and pulled her head back out.

"Saturday, I've booked a private room at the Hogshead, Luna left a few minutes ago and she said her father will be there as well. I'll put my studies off for tomorrow to contact the Diagon Alley Business Council and also someone for some legal advice."

He smiled and stepped into a small hug. "Dumbledore's in -- well after he convinces the staff, but like Ron said, they'll follow him."

She nodded. "Probably. I can't think of anyone who'll go against, except maybe for Snape."

Harry pulled back. "I didn't think about that. Since the war's over he won't have any loyalty to Dumbledore except as a friend."

He started a pace across the floor. "Snape would throw this whole thing just to spite me. We got to move faster." He looked at his watch. "I've got thirty minutes before Diagon Ally shuts down."

He grabbed his cloak and threw it around his shoulders. Hermione looked confused. "You're going now?"

He nodded. "I've got to get to Gringotts before they close."

"Why Gringotts?"

"They're the cornerstone. They control all of the money and if I can get them to move then the rest should follow."

She stopped him and gave his cheek a kiss. "Good luck."

He smiled back. "I've got you. It's all I the luck I ever wanted."

Hermione gave him a knowing smile and her cheeks reddened slightly. "I'll be waiting for you."

He grabbed a pinch of Floo Powder and stepped into the fire. "Keep your mirror handy in case I need you." At that he threw the powder into the fire and called. "Diagon Alley!"

He popped out of the community fireplace and started an all out run to the tall white marble building near the end of the street. There weren't many people doing their shopping this late, which made dodging them that much easier until he bounded up the steps to the entrance being held open by the door-goblin.

Harry stepped to the first open teller. "Who's in charge around here?"

The teller gave him a condescending glance. "That would be our head teller."

He shook his head. "No I mean who's in charge?"

"Your name?"

Harry leaned into the counter so the goblin could get a good look at him. "My name is Harry Potter and it is very very important that I speak to the highest ranking Goblin possible."

"Have a seat Mr. Potter. I will see if the bank President is available."

He saw a few chairs nearby and chose one, sitting and thinking very hard about how he was going to convince a pack of Goblins to pick up and move across the country. "Bloody impossible."

The excursion of the day was starting to take it's toll on his eyes and he took off his glasses and rubbed them furiously.

"Mr. Potter."

The voice took him by surprise. When he replaced his glasses he looked up to see the teller he spoke to only a minute before.

"Yes."

"Follow me please."

The Goblin lead him behind the counter and through a series of doors and down an long hallway to a flat closed off wall. He drew a taloned finger down and across the wall leaving a silver trail of light behind until the wall broke apart and reformed much like the wall that separated Diagon Alley from the leaky Caldron.

In the room beyond sat a very old looking Goblin behind a very large and dark desk with a mound of parchment book-ending either side of the desk. He didn't look in the best of moods, but neither did any other Goblin he had ever seen.

"Mr. Potter," he opened with a exceedingly raspy voice. "I was told you have important business."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

The Goblin eyed Harry and arched it's eyebrow.

"Have a seat. Grumnak, coffee. Something to drink, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded. "Coffee would be fine, thank you."

The old Goblin chuckled softly. "I'm afraid our coffee differs somewhat from the human brand."

He paused at looking at him. "I'll drink whatever you're having."

"Very well," he said with a smile. "I am High Senior Goblin Motlock,"

"Pleasure to meet you sir."

Motlock didn't offer his hand so neither did Harry.

"Please forgive me. I'm not familiar with Goblin hierarchy. History of Magic was never my strongest subject."

Motlock chuckled again. "There are five of us that stand on the Senior Council we govern Goblin owned businesses, and relations with wizards." He said the last with more than a little distain and Harry jumped all over it.

"Am I to understand that you don't think much of wizards."

He sneered slightly. "Mr. Potter, if you have taken anything away from you History of Magic classes you must have know about the number of wars we have fought with your kind."

He remembered being bored to tears at the number of times Professor Binns droned on about the Goblin Wars. "I have a decent idea."

"It was only the last war that we reached an agreement that allowed us some status in your community."

"Some status ... you mean you aren't considered equals?"

Motlock frowned, which for a Goblin is somewhat of a scary sight. "We watch your money and profit from hold it. We build your broomsticks and we profit from it."

The broomstick thing was news to Harry.

"But that's it?"

The old Goblin nodded.

"I think we might have much in common, High Senior Motlock."

Before Harry continued Grumnak returned with the coffee and poured two cups of some really dark liquid that did not resemble any type of coffee that he had ever seen.

"Continue, Mr. Potter your business will stay in this room, I assure you."

Harry looked down at the spotless, gleaming floor and back up. "How would you like a standing in the wizarding community as unconditional equals?"

Grumnak dropped the spoon he was stirring with and looked up at Harry. Harry followed his eyes as they looked at the High Senior. Apparently common interest was found.

"Forgive me, Mr. Potter. With what status of power do you hold to be able to grant such a boon?"

Harry interlaced his fingers and leaned forward. "No power whatsoever, High Senior."

Motlock looked like he was seriously considering throwing Harry out of the bank.

"If you'll give me a moment to explain ..."

Motlock nodded.

"In the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic is a fountain. A wizard, witch, centaur, house-elf, and a goblin are the center pieces. It is called the Fountain of Magical Brethren. When I first saw it I thought how unlike the magical world it really was. From what I know of centaurs they would most likely spit on a wizard than be akin to one. House-elves live in servitude and from what you tell me of goblins, you aren't much better off."

Motlock raised his bushy eyebrow once more. "Your point, Mr. Potter?"

"I want to make that fountain a reality, High Senior."

Before he could be interrupted again, Harry continued. "I'm about to purchase all the land I can around the Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, I will convince all the businesses I can to move their stores by giving them land and building them a magical community who's sole purpose is just that ... a community. No wizards, no witches, no Pure-bloods, no Mudbloods, no rich, no poor; a place where we will make our own law and put the Ministry of Magic out of business."

Motlock's intense gaze never wavered from Harry's. "Grumnak, The ledger of Mr. Potter's account. Alert acquisitions their presence is ordered."

The junior goblin almost dashed out of the room.

"Mr. Potter, without looking at the ledger I can tell you that you are have one of the largest accounts here at Gringotts. However what you are proposing will cost a substantial amount of money."

Harry smiled. "There is something that a lot of people don't know about, High Senior."

"And what is that, Mr. Potter."

"I have just registered at the Ministry of Magic today as an Enchanter, and from what I've been told, a fairly powerful one."

Motlock's mouth stretched wide with a substantial and very toothy grin. Harry didn't know whether to pull his wand or make a run for it. Two Goblins entered the room in a rather fast pace. Grumnak place a large black tome in front of the High Senior and the second Goblin stood by the desk looking interested in the proceedings.

"Gurnst, begin calculations for all unincorporated and unused residential property within a twenty mile radius of the village of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts School."

The second goblin left the room and Harry stared on. Twenty miles? "Um ..."

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Motlock said as he perused Harry's ledger.

"You think twenty miles is a bit much?"

"The future, Mr. Potter ... the future."

"Erm ... okay."

"I see your account has increased recently. I suppose it was all that business with the latest dark lord."

"Pardon?" Harry leaned forward to see what he was talking about.

"Rewards and such for the escaped Azkaban prisoners and the Dark Lord himself have been deposited in your account. Were you unaware?"

Harry shook his head. "I really don't think much about my account, High Senior. Since my parents left me enough to live off of as I attend Hogwarts and with the death of my Godfather ... well I just saw a mountain of gold in my vault and assumed I wouldn't have any money problems for a while."

Motlock looked up from the ledger with disbelief in his eyes. "You are not aware of what your family's monetary worth is?"

Harry's ears started burning. "Um ... no."

The old Goblin marked his place in the tome and turned it sideways so Harry could see how thick it actually was, approximately two inches. He pinched off about ten or so pages. "This was your parents original account, then he pinched off about a inch worth of parchment. "This is with the addition of the Black Family Estate and all of it's holdings: retail, business, and muggle investments."

"Hold on -- the Blacks had Muggle investments? I thought they were Prue-blood this and Pure-blood that."

Motlock grinned and chuckled again. "Mr. Potter, money is money, the world over. And what better way to have power over Muggles than to own them and everything they have as well."

Harry shrugged. "Well when you put it that way ..." His eyes went back down to the ledger. "So, um ..."

"Ah, yes."

There was about another inch left in the ledger.

"A good portion of what is left are legal documents, deeds of ownership, etcetera. Granted, most of your money is in investments around the world, Magical and Muggle alike. The liquid assets you hold is what is in your family vault. Your ready-cash so to speak comes to a little over 250 million Galleons, not including precious jewels and anything of a personal nature that might be included, off the books."

Harry reached for his coffee and took a large mouthful swallowing in a single gulp before he realized what he was drinking. His throat seized and he coughed at the intense burning trailing down his throat and wheezed in as much air as he could.

Grumnak poured a glass of water that accompanied the tray and handed it to Harry. Before he finished the glass his senses were tingling and he felt more energetic than he had ever felt before in his life.

His face felt like it was going to explode and his eyes watered until he couldn't see through the tears.

Someone handed him a handkerchief and he blotted at his eyes. Someone else was laughing in the background and it took him a moment before he could see enough to notice it was Motlock."

"I can honestly say in my 385 years of life I have never seen a Wizard that could do more than sip at Goblin coffee, and you drank half the cup. I like you, Mr. Potter."

Harry tried to smile but wound up coughing again and tried desperately to drink some more water. He had composed himself by the time Gurnst had returned laying a single piece of parchment in front of the High Senior who in turn began to study the figures.

"You are in luck, Mr. Potter. A large portion of the land that is underdeveloped is owned by several members of the Hogsmeade community not including the rather large mountain area approximately two miles west of the school which is owned by a single individual."

"Who's that?"

The goblin turn the parchment around and showed Harry. "Oddly enough, you are the owner, Mr. Potter."

Utter confusion sketched its way across Harry's face. "I own a mountain?"

The goblin nodded. "It seems as if a Phineas Nigellus Black had purchased it when he was headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Um ... cool."

"Indeed, this lowers the cost of the available land to approximately ten to fifteen million Galleons depending on what the bartered price will be. If you would like, Gringotts would be happy to negotiate the transaction for a minimal fee considering the use in which it would be put."

Harry nodded. "Sure."

"Gurnst. Top end price is fifteen million. Acquire the property in the name of Mr. Potter."

The acquisitions goblin nodded, took the sheet, and left.

"Grumnak. Make a copy of this ledger for Mr. Potter so that he may peruse his assets at his leisure."

When his assistant left, Motlock leaned forward. "Now we will speak of this community of yours, Mr. Potter."

He was all business.

"In order for you to attract a proper amount of citizenry, industry, and business you will need a better incentive than community harmony."

Harry frowned. "I realize that. Do you think money would work?"

The goblin's bushy eyebrows shot up. "What do you have in mind?"

"What sort of taxes do you pay out to the Ministry?"

To a goblin this was very personal information and Harry realized it the moment he asked the question. But Motlock considered for a moment.

"Twenty-three percent of net profits are taken by the Ministry every quarter."

Harry nodded. "And the amount of interest the average depositor receives? "

"Three point two-three-seven percent."

He threw a number out in the air. "Since I have no idea how much it costs to run the Ministry and I plan on cutting out a number of departments ... how about we say for starters for you to double the amount of interest to your depositors and we'll decrease your taxation to five to ten percent. And that five to ten percent, after salaries are paid to staff will go to community improvements."

Motlock blinked and it looked as if he was going to start twitching. "Mr. Potter, do you know what you are saying?"

Harry nodded. "I'm saying once the bills are paid and a small amount goes into the community you can keep what ever you earn. I mean it's not anyone's money but yours, right? What right does the Ministry have to take it away without your permission?"

Motlock kept staring at him.

"And if you have the people to spare if you wouldn't mind figuring out how much it actually take to run the Ministry and all the other stuff, we can make a deal."

The goblin stood and limped around the desk to stand before Harry. "Mr. Potter, you would trust us to do these things for you and reward us with the compensation you spoke of?"

Something wasn't sitting right in Harry's mind. "Is there a reason I shouldn't? Once we begin you'll be on the same broomstick with me. It seems that anything that would happen to the community would affect the goblins as well, so you have a strong interest to make sure it works too. I don't expect anything will be written in stone at first until we are up and running, but I trust you to help as well as expect help from me."

The old goblin peered into the eyes of the young man sitting before him. "Grumnak!"

The assistant stuck his head through the door.

"The blade, Grumnak."

He disappeared and Harry started to become very uneasy at the smile Motlock was giving him.

"Mr. Potter are you familiar with the Goblin's Oath?"

"Um ... no, Sir."

Grumnak returned with a large ceremonial silver knife.

"It is very simple, Mr. Potter. Your word is your bond. If you break the bond then you die a slow and very painful death. Will you take this bond with me, now?"

"Wha -- um -- what kind of oath?"

Motlock dragged the sharp point across his own palm, blood welled up and started to pool in his hand. "A bond of friendship and community, Mr. Potter. That we will never deceive one another regarding the plans we make to change the face of the magical community."

He handed the knife to Harry, hilt first and he paused for a second then drew the tip across his own palm mirroring Motlock's. He winced and drew a sharp breath at the pain it caused.

Grumnak took the blade and Motlock grabbed Harry's bloody hand, squeezing it roughly. "We are brothers in blood and oath now, Harry Potter. Our words are our bond and will never be questioned in the future again."

Harry gasped at the burning of his hand as their blood mingled, until Motlock released him. Grumnak handed him a lace kerchief which he blotted at the blood to find out how much of his hand had been burned away, only to find that it was free from injury as before he made the cut.

Motlock grabbed a coffee cup. "Now we drink!"

It was almost midnight before Harry had returned to Hogwarts. Hermione was a nervous wreck sitting in front of the fireplace clutching a cup of something when he stepped out of the fireplace.

"Thank Merlin you're safe ... Harry, what's wrong with you?"

His hands were shaking as he clutched a large tome similar to the one in Motlock's office.

"Erm ... Goblin coffee ... drank ... a lot."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Harry? Goblin coffee isn't coffee."

He looked around at the living room. "I think I'm going to be awake for the rest of my life."

She took the tome and led him to the study setting it and him down. "Did everything go okay?"

He nodded and tried to stop his head from continuing. Hermione tried not to giggle at his jitters, but failed miserably.

"It's -- not -- fu-- fu -- funny."

She pulled his head to her breast. "I know, Harry. I know."

Hermione turned her head and looked at the tome. "What's this?"

Harry took a calming breath. "Our account." He was quite proud of himself for actually getting a sentence out without stammering."

"This big thing?"

He tried not to nod, knowing he'd regret it later. "Uh-huh."

"You poor thing. Let me see if I can help you." She pulled out her wand. "I'm going to try a Sleeping Charm and see if that counteracts the effects of the coffee.

"Any -- thing."

"Morphean!"

Harry felt a lurch in his chest and a sudden need to close his eyes briefly. "Oh, my god, thank you."

He almost felt normal again, but still somewhat strung out on the powerful beverage.

13. Fun Times

Chapter 13

Hermione hadn't touched her breakfast. As every time she was about to take a bite she happened to turn another page in the ledger and wound up goggling at something else.

"You'll never finish your breakfast at this rate," commented Harry who was sitting across from her at his desk.

He saw her eyes pop up from the ledger. "Harry, this is amazing. Whoever did this family's financial planning was a genius. The Black estate wasn't any richer than most of the nobles, but for some reason around fifteen years ago they got onto the ground floor of a lot of Muggle businesses. It made them hundreds of millions. It looks as if Sirius' mother died right after a lot of the purchases so they never made the mistake of selling."

Harry nodded. "I kind of got that impression from the Senior Goblin last night when he told me that the gold in our vault was 'ready cash'."

"He wasn't kidding." She pointed at the large book. "I don't think I could even estimate how much you're worth right now, Harry."

That seemed to surprise him. "I didn't think there was anything that you couldn't do?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. "Well given a team of accounts, and a really big computer, I'm sure I could. But why would I want to. I doubt even you could spend all of the money you have, even if you wanted to."

"All the money we have," he corrected her.

She shook her head. "No, Harry. It's all under your name and been placed as such to prevent anyone from ever taking it from you."

"Well I'll have to change that."

Hermione shook her head with resignation.

The Thin Lady interrupted. "Professor Potter, you have visitor." "Thank you," he responded. "Come in."

Ron stepped through the entrance into Harry's study followed by Neville.

"We've got the information you need," said Neville with a smile on his face.

************************

By Christmas break, construction was in full force and Harry was able to devote almost all of his time transfiguring supplies and materials. The Goblins of Gringotts were the first to move operations in their show of support for Harry's ideals; they also wanted to be able to construct their vault tunnels unobserved by anyone but their oath-brother.

The earth and stone removed by the Goblins provided more than enough material for Harry to use for the building of a township that was soon to be known as Solidarity.

Solidarity was being built in the largest valley southeast of Hogsmeade. Masked by the mountains that boarded on either side it would be a simple matter to ward the township against muggles where they would only see a snow covered, unfriendly valley if they happened to fly overhead.

The middle portion of the valley was were the buisness district would be located as to be accessible from either side where the majority of housing would be located. The surrounding mountain area was also saved for those that had the need for more private accommodations.

On one end of the business district stood the nearly finished Gringotts Wizarding Bank and the other end was the skeleton framework of the new St. Mungo's Hospital Magical Maladies and Injuries. St. Mungo's was soon to follow once Harry promised state-of-the-art facilities which they had apparently been hounding the Ministry about for the last decade to no avail.

The rest of the businesses of Diagon Alley had plans to relocate in the spring. A number of incentives had been offered in order to persuade them: For anyone with a current business or who wanted to start a business, Harry offered them free land for their personal housing and construction costs of their new homes would not include anything but labor of the building-wizards. In return five percent of net proceeds of their business' would go to the community government, a far cry from the twenty percent the Ministry was collecting.

At the notice of much lower taxes and higher interest being given by Gringotts, the Ministry knew it was the beginning of the end. Harry was still waiting for the backlash and the threats of imprisonment for being a traitor or some other crime against the Ministry, but none had come as of yet. The only thing that was being done about the forming of the township was the occasional interview in the Daily Prophet with the Minister saying how disappointed he was with the actions of people that he had grown to respect.

Harry was still waiting for the other boot to drop.

A few of Ministry officials jumped ship at the first sign of its sinking. He had taken that opportunity to lure some of them into the provisional ad-hoc government that would make up the first staff for the ruling body of the township. He had known he knew next to nothing about what made a government work and decided he would leave the day to day running in the hands of people that knew what they were doing. The difference being that Harry was being pressured to provide exactly what they were supposed to be doing. If all the old rules were being scraped, they needed new laws to follow.

First he needed to separate the various divisions of the new government. Some Departments he chose to leave alone because they were doing fine all on their own like the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Granted, none of the professional teams had left the rule of the Ministry, but Harry knew it was only a matter of time.

He had appointed Arthur Weasley to the newly developed Department of Muggle Relations, which incorporated the Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, and the new Office of Information. The new office would introduce Muggle families, with magical imbibed offspring, to the wizarding world. Harry hoped with the addition of these Muggles into the community that there would be a lesser divide and more understanding between the two cultures.

The greatest effort was starting a Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This was where Harry knew the widest amount of change would present itself. Only two Auror's left the Ministry: Tonks and Applegate. No others would risk their tenure so soon with the current struggle.

However, while Harry was transfiguring materials, all of the details involved in politics were pushed to the wayside. The Goblins, having a different sort of magic akin to house-elves, transported the raw materials to a prearranged location where Harry would change to whatever was needed for the days to come. Sometimes he would spend the entire day and then go to his rooms in a exhausted stupor from the amount of concentration he would have exerted. But two days before Christmas he was interrupted.

"Lunchtime, Harry," someone said from behind.

Massive piles of wooden beams lay to the side and was soon thereafter joined by many more.

"Harry?"

He lifted his wand once more in almost robotic repetition. The incantation was on his lips, but he felt a hand on his arm disturbing his concentration.

"Wha?"

Hermione was standing to the side with a frown on her face. "Lunchtime."

"Oh," he said plainly, "right, then."

On their short walk back to the temporary hut set up for breaks of coffee, tea, and lunch, Hermione held tightly to his arm. "Harry, you're overextending yourself."

He couldn't agree more. Nights found him falling into bed, dead asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He knew it was going to be hard work, building a town from scratch, but it was even more difficult than he imagined. "Sorry, I'll try to cut back a bit."

She gave him a look of strong doubt that he would live up to his word. "Sure you will."

A house-elf that Harry didn't recognize was pouring tea and arranging their lunch as they stepped into the small hut and Hermione closed the door to the frigid air outside.

He pulled his gloves off and stuffed them into his winter cloak which he unsnapped and handed to the little elf before he sat down. His hands warmed against the cup and he took a ginger sip to wet his throat.

"Really, I've got most of the supplies set aside."

Hermione took a seat across from him and laid her napkin in her lap. "You're working yourself to death, Harry. This doesn't have to be done overnight you know."

He blew across the top of the cup and then took another sip. "It's been almost four months. We should be further along than this. The Goblins say that they're almost done with their tunneling, and once that's done it'll only be another month before they have the vaults ready for the big transfer."

Harry had no idea how the Goblins were going to move the massive amounts of gold and vault contents not to mention the dragon that is supposed to be doing the guarding. Dragons were notorious for staking a claim to one piece of land for their entire life. Uprooting one and making it live somewhere else was not an easy thing to do, or at least that's what Charlie Weasley had told him when he got news of Solidarity and the role the Goblins were playing.

"You'll be on time, don't worry so much," encouraged Hermione.

Harry wasn't so sure. The winter snows had put them two weeks behind schedule already. It took a bit of arm twisting to get the construction wizards to put a Tenting Charms over their worksites so that their crews could continue no matter the weather. He had volunteered to perform the charm himself but the forewizard strictly forbad it saying it was against union rules or some such nonsense.

He really didn't feel like talking much about his work and wanted to change the subject. "How's the experimenting going?"

She stabbed at a potato at the bottom of her bowl of steaming hot stew and shrugged. "I could really use an assistant. The equations I'm working on ..."

"Hermione, we've had this talk before. You know why I don't think it's such a good idea."

Her frown had returned. "Not every person in the world is out to get me, Harry."

It was a sensitive subject with Hermione. She couldn't really advertise the fact that she was performing possibly dangerous experiments at the school, so putting a notice in the Daily Prophet was out. Harry nixed the idea because of the how easy slipping in an agent of the Knights of Walpurgis would be. Hermione wasn't on familiar terms with the more well known researchers of the wizarding community, and getting them to drop whatever it is they were working on just to run off and play science lab with a recent graduate who hadn't yet proven herself was pretty much an impossible idea.

"I could help you out," Harry offered.

She smiled sweetly, but with a hint of resignation. "You're one of the smartest people I know, Harry, but I think your Arithmancy skills would be lacking."

He snapped his fingers and looked disappointed. "I knew I should have dropped Divination and went with Arithmancy. But Trelawney was just to good-looking to pass up. Plus all of that incense she burned in the classroom." He looked fondly in the air. "I can almost remember the headaches like it was yesterday."

Hermione picked up a roll and threw it at his head. "Don't think I haven't heard you in the middle of the night, whispering her name and all."

Harry laughed and stood up to lean over the table and kiss his wife. "I gave all of that up for you."

"Aww, you're so sweet," she said sarcastically.

"I think so."

She pointed at his bowl with her fork. "Eat your stew, sweet-boy. It's cold out there."

With dinner complete Harry sat back sipping on his third cup of tea. "Dumbledore said he would help out drafting the Constitution."

"That's great. I guess being Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, or former Chief as the case may be, is good for something."

Harry nodded.

Hermione sighed and stood up. "I guess I'll go back to my lonely laboratory and get back to work."

"Who's your escort?" He looked around and didn't see any of her normal attendants, then it was his turn to frown. "You did have an escort coming over here, didn't you?"

"Harry, I'm perfectly safe. There hasn't even been a hint of another attempt and it's been almost four months," she rationalized.

"And you used to call me reckless!" He stood, setting his cup down. "I'll escort you."

She tried to wave him off. "Harry, I'm perfectly safe. They wouldn't try to do anything with so many people coming back and forth."

Harry nodded. "And once you make it to Hogwarts grounds you'd be all alone for that long walk back to the castle, not to mention the fact that the last attempt was in the middle of the castle with hundreds of people only a floor away. I'm escorting you and that's final."

Hermione rolled her eyes in resignation. "Then you'll have to hold my hand."

He smiled happily back at her. "I can't think of anything else I'd rather be holding."

"I can," she replied. "You've been a neglectful husband this last week."

His eyes widened a little and he knew she was right. The work he was doing wasn't necessarily physically demanding but it was definitely mentally draining. He never had much energy to do anything other than sleep when he arrived in the evenings. "Well then I'll take off early today and we'll make up for that."

She grinned back at him and raised up on her toes kissing him lightly. Harry wouldn't have any of that and pulled her closer to explore the depths of a much more impassioned kiss. Just before things became physically uncomfortable they separated and Hermione dropped back down.

"I'll hold you to that, Mister Potter."

Harry's head was somewhat cloudy at this point. "Maybe I can just take a longer lunch."

She smirked and grabbed his hand. "No, I stink. I need a bath and I bought us some fun things at the new shop in Hogsmeade this morning."

"Fun things?"

She nodded as she threw on her cloak and handed Harry his own. "I know how tired and worn you are by the end of the day. I thought after you took a bath tonight I'd give you a rub down. I bought some scented oils that would be perfect. And then maybe you could rub me down," she said coyly.

Harry's face went limp and lips parted slightly. "I think I might have to take off the rest of the day."

She shook her head and hopped spryly to the door. "Nope. Have to make sure the bedroom is set up properly and all. Might take me all afternoon."

"Bollocks, it'd take you five minutes, if that long."

Hermione opened the door. "Escorting me or not, Mister Potter?"

Harry withdrew his gloves and pulled them on as they left for the Apparation and walk back to Hogwarts.

14. Things That Arent So Fun

Chapter 14

             "Accept the offer," Harry pleaded.

            "Piss off, Potter." Mad Eye Moody yelled. "I've told you I'm not interested."

            Harry slid down the wall outside the front of Moody's house in exhaustion. "Fine, I guess I'll give it to Tonks then."

            "Funny," came the response from behind the door.

            "What's so funny? Applegate's a nice guy but he's not leadership material and Tonks is the only other person I trust to take the position."

            The door cracked open. "She's only been an Auror for two years. What's she know about running a department?"

            Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Probably not a thing, but I can trust her not to stab me in the back."

            He could almost hear Moody's teeth grinding then the door opened. "One year -- that's all. After that I name my replacement and retire for good."

            Harry lifted his hands in the air. "Deal."

            The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had its new head, finally.

            "The position comes with it's own home. If you want to oversee security measures that are put ...”

            Moody slammed the door in Harry's face for the third time that afternoon. "Can't you take a hint, Potter? I agreed to be your Head. I'll be at work tomorrow. Now piss off."

            Harry smiled and Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. When he found his way back to the Defense Office he had just sat down behind his desk when a sharp knock interrupted his brief moment of silence.

            "Come in."

            He stretched a kink out of his back and watched as Pyotr Yudin entered his office with a stack of parchment of which Harry assumed was freshly graded papers.

            "Pyotr, how are things?"

            The young Russian set the papers on Harry's desk and stood up smartly. "Things, sir?"

            Harry smiled. "The unimportant and important current events in your life. How are you doing? Is everything alright?"

            "My apologies, sir. While I do understand the English language very well I sometimes have problems with your colloquiums." Pyotr nodded once. "My things are well."

            Harry's smile widened. "Good to hear."

            Pyotr gestured to the pile of papers. "The third-years are progressing nicely, sir."

            "No thanks to me. If I didn't have your assistance, Pyotr I think I would have gone insane sometime late in November."

            The Russian shook his head. "It is my honor, sir, though I do not perform this service free of charge."

            Harry leaned back. "That time again, is it?"

            "Da, Professor."

            Harry held out his hand to the chair in front of his desk and Pyotr took a seat, although somewhat stiffly. "So what question do you have for me this month?"

            The sixth-year transfer student looked down to his hands seemingly to avoid Harry's eyes. "My choice is a personal one, sir."

            Harry's smile turned serious and firm. "That was our agreement, Pyotr."

            The Russian finally met Harry's eyes. "Your friends, sir," he began and then rethought his delivery. "I never understood why my parents, in their chosen profession ... " His lips thinned in frustration at his inability to properly form the question. "Why would they ... I thought perhaps you might be able to enlighten me as to how you were able to live with the constant danger to those you held close."

            Understanding passed through Harry's mind. "Pyotr, are you asking me why your parents got married and had you, knowing that it was a possibility that one or both of them might die?"

            The Russian breathed a sigh of relief. "Da, Professor Potter."

            Harry steeped his fingers together. "That's an easy one to answer, but not necessarily to understand," he began. "My close circle of friends weren't always my close circle of friends." Harry smiled widely. "In fact I didn't much care for my wife when we first met."

            Pyotr's eyebrow arched in curious surprise. 

            "It was in our first year that Ron Weasley and I came to her rescue that we became friends. We stayed friends because of our mutual interests and our first encounter with Voldemort."

            Harry's chair swiveled a little until a ray of sunlight coming though a window caught his eye. "We didn't know ... or didn't care until much later the next year that Voldemort seem to have it in for me and that he could get to me through my friends.

            "It wasn't until my fifth year, when my godfather was killed in a trap set by the snake-faced bastard, that reality set in for me. I was killing those closest to me by only being associated with them."

            Harry paused in reflection before continuing. "I was all set to run far away from anyone that ever meant anything to me when Hermione found me and explained why that was such a bad idea. Her explanation at the time was that running away wouldn't have helped anything. It would only weaken their position that much more. But after I thought about it for a while I think it was another reason I stayed.

            "My friends weren't my friends because they helped me defeat Voldemort. They were my friends because we had stuck by each other for so long, because we held up our ideals and our friendship above all else. We believed in each other and that was one thing Voldemort didn't have ... trust and love."

            Pyotr seemed more confused than ever.

            "I can't tell why your parents married and decided to have you, Pyotr, but I can tell you when Hermione and I decide to have a family we won't let fear dictate how we live our lives."

            The Russian sat tall. "My parents were brave people, Professor. I think they would have agreed with you."

            A sharp tapping at the window behind Harry interrupted their conversation. He leaned over and undid the lock, swinging the window wide to let in a flame colored Short Eared owl. After retrieving the letter clasped firmly between its beak Harry watched as the owl retreated to the sill and back out the window.

            Your presence is requested at the entrance to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Serenity, Scotland.

            Respectfully,

             High Senior Goblin Motlock

            Harry raised his eyebrows in confusion. He wasn't expecting anymore contact with the Goblins until the grand opening of the bank the following week.

            "Excuse me Pyotr. I'm being called away on business."

            The young Russian stood stiffly and nodded. "Of course, sir."

The Serenity Floo Network was in its infancy stage, only connecting to certain key figures occupying the growing council, of which Harry was a part. His personal floo and that of his office were connected to the communal Apparition and Floo point in located in the center of town. After arriving he made his way to the northern part of the valley instead of Apparating the short distance so that he could take in a visual inspection of the growing township.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was one of the first aboard, taking advantage of the homestead advantage Harry had initiated for the business owners not to mention the prime location, directly in front of the Apparation point so as to be the first business that was seen upon arrival. The storefront was still in construction, but he could see a number of red heads moving around inside the shoppe lugging boxes and so forth.

With the imminent move, Finnybulb Blott, formerly of Flourish and Blott's, sold his portion of the business to his partner, as he was one of a select group that did not agree with what Harry was doing; taking extreme offense at the notion of being forced to move or go bankrupt from lack of business. Stanford Flourish, being almost one hundred and twenty-seven, was (in his own words) not a 'young pup' anymore and had approached Harry early the previous week with a business proposal.

Stanford had no desire to fully pull himself out of the business as he had a considerable desire to remain financially comfortable in his retirement years. He wanted only to leave the day-to-day operations and take on a more upper management type of role behind the scenes. In doing so he needed a partner; someone who would drop in from time to time and check up on the staff that he had hired to operate the bookstore.

Harry remembered smiling deviously and took Stanford up on his offer, on one condition: that the name be change to Flourish and Granger. Thus Harry had secured Hermione's first Christmas present of the year.

The rest of the businesses were coming along nicely, Harry noted as he proceeded along the expansive marketplace. The street was exceptionally wide, bordered on either side by businesses. Down the center of the street a mishmash of benches, trees, notice boards, and other sundry embellishments filled in the empty space.

Harry increased his pace when he caught the gathering crowd of Goblins at the end of the street, looking his way. He recognized a few faces among the crowd as bank employees that had occasionally conferred with him regarding the township requirements.  He nodded in recognition and strode at a much slower pace through the crowd until he reached the head Goblin.

Harry nodded in a more formal fashion. "High Senior Motlock. I received your owl."

The Goblin leaned heavily on a short walking stick. "Thank you for arriving so promptly." He paused and looked around. "Grumnak!"

Motlock's assistant stepped out from behind Harry. "Here, High Senior."

Motlock nodded tiredly. "Proceed with the ceremony. Mr. Potter if you will accompany me to the front of the structure we will finalize our efforts."

Wonder crept into Harry's mind at the High Senior's request. "I wasn't aware that I was needed anymore."

Motlock chuckled rather raspy. "Two things are needed from you this afternoon, Mr. Potter."

Harry climbed the stairs slowly as to stay in step with the High Senior. When underneath the large portico leading to the entrance of to the new bank he noticed an unfinished portion centered directly before the divide of the doors; a circle of marble was left detached in the floor.

"What can I do?" replied Harry.

Grumnak stepped to the opposite side of the large hole and opened the tattered tome he was carrying. "All Goblins present, Mr. Potter have given of themselves today in ceremony for the security of the structure and its contents behind me. As oath brother to the Goblins and creator of this township we request that you seal the enchantments upon this ground."

Harry turned to Motlock. "I'd be honored."

Motlock smiled sleepily. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. The ceremony is best performed between brothers of blood and you are my only surviving brother."

Harry blinked and then looked around at the hundreds of Goblins, the grim look decorating their faces, and then back to the High Senior. Something did not seem right about the situation, but he couldn't figure it out at the moment.

"What do I need to do?"

Motlock looked up. "You will add a single drop of your blood to that of the others in the bottom of this hole in the concavity."

Grumnak handed Harry a small pin for the procedure.

"Sounds easy enough."

He pricked a finger and held it over the hole and watched as a single red drop fell into the darkness below then he retracted his hand and passed the pin back to Grumnak.

"And the second part?"

Grumnak then withdrew the ceremonial knife that Harry recognized from the Blood Oath ritual he and Motlock participated in months before. The High Senior stepped forward to the hole and passed his walking stick to another Goblin.

Grumnak looked down at the tome and began reading. For Harry's benefit Motlock translated the reading from the original Goblin language that Grumnak was reciting.

"Seal in security this building and all it guards against those that would dishonor. Seal in blood those that seek to thieve, those that covet the riches of others. Seal in body the sacrifice that is made this day forevermore with brotherhood."

Sacrifice?

Grumnak handed the blade to Motlock as he bared his wrists.

"Wait," Harry sputtered.

Motlock's held the blade along his own wrist. "I will perform the rite on one wrist, Mr. Potter, you the other." He paused and coughed. "Then I will be sealed underneath the structure, protecting it and the contents therein."

Harry almost backed away before he realized he was blocked by the press of Goblin bodies against his back. "B … buried alive?"

Motlock smiled widely, baring his pointy teeth. "Not for long, Mr. Potter. Not for long."

"I can't," Harry said. "I can't kill you."

The blade wavered for a moment the Motlock continued. "I am already dead, Mr. Potter. Grumnak will succeed me as High Senior this evening. I am old and very near death. Do me the honor of ending my sickness this day in a way that a true Goblin desires … in protection of something that will mean something to him."

Harry looked from side to side at the grim features of the attending Goblins.

"What we have built here, in Serenity, Mr. Potter is the future of our combined races. I can think of no more honorable or no more meaningful way to end my life. Can you?"

Motlock slid the sharp blade along his wrist and Harry watched as the blood welled up and spilled into the hole. The Goblin gasped and when his breath returned he handed the knife to Harry.

"It was an honor to make you my brother in blood, Harry Potter."

He held out his wrist and Harry grasped it gingerly while looking into the gray-green Goblin's eyes.

"The honor is mine, High Senior Motlock."

"Proceed," rasped the Goblin.

Harry laid the sharp edge along the wrist of his Goblin advisor and drew it quickly across. Seconds afterward High Senior stepped into the hole and disappeared in a shower of light and sparks. Grumnak retrieved the blade and to Harry's discernment, licked along its length, removing the remaining blood. Thereafter he closed the tome and motioned forward to the other Goblins.

A circle of marble levitated from the crowd and settled itself over the hole, lowing and with a red glow along its edge, sealed itself to the rest of the surrounding marble seamlessly.

Harry's hand flew to his mouth as his stomach surged with turmoil. Grumnak stepped forward, on top of the now sealed hole. "You must keep what you have seen secret, Harry Potter, against those that are not in attendance this day, under pain of a wasting death." He handed Harry a sealed letter. "This is from Motlock … his last request of you and the first request from myself."

A movement from the Goblins at his back made Harry turn. He discovered a pathway had been made for him back to the center of town of which he nearly took at a run, feeling all along the way the touch of every Goblin. When he reached the end of the line he Apparated to the Center of town and Flooed to his office and immediately sealed the doors therein.

Harry nearly made it to the waste bin as his stomach heaved and emptied its contents. He fell to his knees and grasped the waste bin, shaking in revulsion at what he had done before he noticed the blood on his hand. He jumped and slid away, holding the hand out in horror and anguish. His other hand reflexively fumbled inside his robes for a handkerchief to wipe away the High Senior's remnants with great fervor.

Tears blinded his vision momentarily before he reigned himself in and closed his eyes against the vision replaying itself in his mind.

Time passed with an occasional knock on the door and the return of a call to let him be until the voice of his wife eventually came. Harry muttered the Unlocking Charm allowing Hermione into his inner sanctum. 

Seeing her husband in obvious pain she fell to her knees beside him. "Harry?"

He pulled her into a tight embrace and shivered in her warmth.

"What happened?" she begged into his chest.

Remembering the last words of Grumnak regarding the issue of secrecy he offered, "I can't tell you. I'm sworn to secrecy."

Hermione pulled away with a furrowed brow. Her eyes searched him and fell to the floor and the bloodied handkerchief. "Are you injured? Should I fetch Madam Pomfrey?"

He shook his head and dropped it in a reserved posture. "It's not my blood."

15. Riches Beyond Measure

Chapter 15

It wasn't long before Hermione had talked Harry back to their rooms in Gryffindor Tower and into a soothing bath for two. She squeezed the soapy bath-towel over his chest, moving it in slow circles as he lay back cradled in her embrace. Wet ringlets of his shaggy hair fell over his closed eyes as he sighed with relaxation.

"We don't do enough of this," Harry said quietly.

"Shhh," she replied. "No talking allowed. Just relaxing … that goes for no thinking either."

He smiled softly. "Kinda hard not the think when we're naked in a tub full of bubbles."

She dropped the towel and hugged him from behind. "I love you, Harry, but there will be no sex until I get you to bed. The last time we tried that in here there was water and bubbles everywhere."

"It was clean sex though."

She laughed playfully. "Very clean."

Harry looked down at his hands. "Am I pruning yet?"

"The question you need to ask is 'am I relaxed yet?'"

  He nodded. "You always know what I need the most."

Hermione smiled in satisfaction. "That's my job. You're my husband." She pushed him from the back. "Now get off, Husband. You're squishing my boobs."

Harry removed himself from the bath and patted himself with a fluffy towel before he noticed Hermione still in the tub watching every move he made.

"Um … what?"

She wore a silly grin on her face. "Nothing … well not exactly." She laid her head to the side of the tub. "I still can't believe you're mine."

                  He wrapped the towel around his waist and flung his still dripping hair back.

                  "Oh please, Mr. Potter. You'll have all the girls at Teen Witch Weekly all agog."

                  Harry laughed joyfully. "You're the only one who gets to see me like this."

                  Hermione smiled wickedly. "Don't forget the pictures I took of you in Cannes. I'm sure Playwitch would pay a pretty Galleon for those. Then I'd have to fight all the girls away … I'd never get any work done." She sighed in defeat. "Alas, the public will never get to know the joy that is your tight butt."

                  Harry rolled his eyes and leaned down for a kiss. "I think they'll survive."

                  She grabbed the back of his hair in her fist and pulled him into her mouth almost savagely, devouring his taste hungrily. She released him abruptly and lay back in the tub with her eyes closed; her tongue traveled the expanse of her lips, savoring the feeling of the kiss.

                   "You may go now," she said as she waved her hand dismissively.

                  Harry laughed. "Yes, Mistress Hermione."

                  Her lips stretched wide. "And don't you forget it, mister."

                  Harry retreated to his wardrobe and after dressing he took a seat in the study and stared at the envelope that Grumnak had given to him. Breaking the wax seal, Harry unfolded the letter tentatively.

Mr. Potter,

The ritual you participated in has never been performed with a human wizard, however as my brother in blood and oath, and in the spirit of the task we have set upon ourselves I feel it behooves the Goblin community to afford you the responsibilities and privileges of a brother Goblin.

Henceforth you are awarded with an honorary position of 'council-member' of the Goblin Senior Council. It is not a mandatory position, nor will anything be expected of you regarding duties or responsibilities except as liaison between the Goblins and the human wizards.

With this title you have full access to any and all vaults in possession of Gringotts as well. I need not remind you of trust we place in you, Mr. Potter. Grumnak will fill you in on the details.

This last portion of this letter deals with two requests, one of my own and one of Grumnak.

You and I have taken a large step in the furthering of our two races, Mr. Potter. Do not let our efforts falter, or your resolve to better our relations' falter. It is a far better thing we do than has ever been done before in the history of our two races.

Have a long and prosperous life, Mr. Potter, as have I.

High Senior Motlock

Mr. Potter,

As the newly appointed High Senior, I welcome you to the Council. If you would be so kind as to present yourself at the entrance to Gringott's Wizarding Bank this Saturday 20th, at 7:00 a.m., I will personally take you on a tour of the bank and introduce you to the board and it's holdings.

You may also approve or disapprove of your family's vault and it's current holdings. I think you will be pleasantly surprised with the changes we at Gringotts have made.

High Senior Grumnak

                  "Who's the letter from?" asked Hermione as she stood in the doorway wearing a fluffy bathrobe and running a towel through her hair.

                  "The new High Senior of the Goblin Senior Council." He looked down at the letter and back up again. "Apparently I'm an honorary Goblin now."

                  Hermione shrugged in a nonchalant thoughtful way. "That's nice."

                  She turned around and went back into the rooms.

                  "I'm also a member of the Goblin Senior Council, too."

                  "Really, Harry," she called from the bedroom. "Don't you think you have enough going on already? I mean: you teach DADA, you're head of house, you're on the Solidarity town council, practically building the town itself, and now you want to be on the Goblin Council also?"

                  Harry tossed the letter to the desk as he stood and made his way to the bedroom. He leaned against the doorjamb and watched as Hermione donned a pair of red silky shorts with a matching camisole. "I've already done with the building supplies and the only thing I have left to do on the town council is appoint a Magical Creatures Relations Department Head. You think Hagrid's interested?" 

                  Hermione raised her eyebrows in dubious surprise. "I love Hagrid to death, Harry, but do you really think he could run a department. He can barely teach a class."

                  He shrugged. "Not many choices then. Amos Diggory is still on the fence about the whole idea."

                  Hermione seemed taken aback. "I thought the Diggory's like you? I mean avenging their son's death and all."

                  Harry nodded. "That's why he's thinking it over in the first place." 

                  He mulled the thought over in his head for a moment or two before he realized his wife standing inches away.

                  "I think you've thought about things enough for one day, Mr. Potter. It's time to pleasure your understanding wife."

                  Harry smiled warmly. "Your wish is my command, M'lady."

~*~

Saturday morning was upon Harry before he was entirely ready to face a number of Goblins once more. A large amount of trepidation weighted heavily on his brow as he donned his winter cloak. Hermione had returned to the third floor laboratory to continue her studies leaving him with a light kiss and a reassuring squeeze on his arm.

Stepping into the green flames of his fireplace he called out Solidarity's name and seconds later found himself sliding out of the community Floo in the center of town. 

"Harry," called a familiar voice that he hadn't heard for a time.

He glanced ahead and saw Arthur Weasley standing outside of the twin's shoppe.

"Morning, Mr. Weasley."

The elder Weasley approached excitedly. "Wanted to let you know about the new project the department is implementing this spring."

Harry clutched his hands behind his back and nodded.

"We've talked it over with a few of the Muggleborn students and decided to start up introduction tours of the town and Hogwarts for the Muggleborns and their families."

Harry interest was peaked. "How so?"

"Well, I'm sure you realize, getting your first Hogwarts letter was a bit of a shock to the system, so to speak." Mr. Weasley grinned. "The way the introduction would work is if a wizard or witch accompanied the letter as well. Kind of a 'welcome to the neighborhood' goodwill gesture."

He turned to the side and motioned to the unfinished portion of the town. "We'd take them on a tour of Solidarity and Hogwarts so they'd feel more welcome, introduce them to the curriculum, let them speak to actual wizards and witches, you know, promote the goodwill for the families."

Harry smiled smartly. "Sounds like a brilliant plan, Mr. Weasley."

The elder redhead beamed with graciousness.  "We're starting right away so the parents won't feel such a shock come summertime."

"I'd suggest bringing them in on the Express for their first look," Harry suggested remembering his first sighting of Hogwarts on the boats as they came across the lake. "It'll make a big impression."

Arthur nodded quickly. "Grand idea." After a moment he noticed Harry edging along.

"Got to get to Gringotts, sir. Meetings and so forth."

Arthur nodded. "Have a wonderful day, Harry."

"You too, Mr. Weasley."

Approaching the portico standing in front of Gringotts, Harry quashed a feeling of nervousness as his eyes traveled over the spot where Motlock was entombed unbeknownst to everyone but the Goblins and himself. A brief shiver crawled up his spine as he climbed the steps and watched as the main doors opened by a rather well dressed Goblin nodding his welcome.

"Virspak will escort you to the High Senior, Mr. Potter," the doorman said.

Harry nodded back and followed the Virspak into the lobby of the new Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

Not much had changed form the old lobby. Teller's booths lined both sides and the back of the bank. Large chandeliers lit the grandiose room. Tens of Goblins sat on tall stools behind the teller booths scribbling rapidly in large tomes, while others readied large scales, incomprehensible abacuses, and ornate inkwells.

Several large doors interspersed between the booths were each guarded by two intense looking Goblins apiece. Harry knew from numerous times visiting the bank that the majority of the doors led to the vast number of private vaults located miles below the bank and the neighboring mountain owned coincidently by Harry himself.

However, a few of the doors led to offices within the bank itself of which he was being led. Down a long doorless hallway he trailed behind Virspak patiently looking at the interspaced ruins along the way. If each of the ruins were any indication, Harry guessed that behind each would be a private office of some kind that only a Goblin could access.

When they reached the end of the hall, Virspak traced a taloned finger up and across the wall in front of him. A moment later a dark wooded, sturdy looking door appeared. The Goblin grasped the brass looking handle and pushed forward into the office of Grumnak, the new High Senior of the Goblin Senior Council.

 Grumnak was standing against one wall and turned as he heard the approach of his assistant and Harry.

"Mr. Potter, thank you for being prompt," the High Senior acknowledged as he slid home a file cabinet drawer that disappeared into the wall. "May I offer you a beverage?"

Remembering the nearly toxic Goblin Coffee he partook of a few months back, Harry shook his head. "Um … thanks, no."

Grumnak nodded. "Very well. We should get on with business then."

He waved his hand toward the wall and continued. "Along this wall is located the major accounts and holdings of the Bank. Being an honorary member of the High Council, you have auditing access to any account, however in order to make any changes, a fellow council member must be present and give consent."

Grumnak moved along the wall and indicated a specific place. "Trace your finger up and along the wall like thus."

Harry did as instructed and was rewarded with an opening of the wall and its hidden file cabinet.

"This is your personal account, Mr. Potter."

Harry looked inside and was surprised at the size and it's contents. "I thought the ledger you …"

"Yes, The ledger I gave you was a … how should I put this … a condensed version of what you see before you." The Goblin indicated the files therein. "These are all of the original ledgers, records, deeds, bearer receipts, Muggle stock holdings, claims of ownership, and so forth. Your personal ledger is a smaller and more condensed copy of everything you see before you."

The morning droned on as Grumnak explained procedure and policies of the bank as well as a brief tour of the new vault layout, an introduction to the two sentry dragons so as not to be roasted alive when unescorted in the tunnels and finally a viewing of his new vault.

Harry did as instructed when approaching a High Security vault such as his own was since the move. Tracing his finger up and across, he watched as a blue glittering arch separated itself from the rest of the tunnel wall and fell into the floor leaving an unobstructed passage into the vault.

He stepped inside and noted firstly that there weren't piles of gold and mounds of silver, nor were there stacks of bronze. Instead, located on the back wall, were three transparent sections securing the Wizarding coinage in a more orderly fashion.  In front of each section was a large hopper and a place for a key.

"Your current vault key will allow you access to the sub-vaults, Mr. Potter. Merely insert your key and voice the amount you wish to withdraw. The coins will then be dispensed to the hoppers below."

Harry shrugged absentmindedly. "It was kinda fun having it scattered all over the place."

Grumnak considered Harry's melancholy face for a moment before shaking his own head, and moving on.

"Over here we have cataloged the family jewels. To the side, the enchanted items, and further on the private memoirs and pensive memories of the Black family and Potter family." He turned around and started to the opposite wall to continue before he realized Harry wasn't with him any longer. "Mr. Potter?"

Harry had moved to stand in front of the large transparent wall of that contained large tomes and equally large ornate bottles containing a familiar silver viscous fluid. His lips separated wordlessly in realization of what was contained therein.

"Mr. Potter?" Grumnak repeated.

"Hmm?"

"Would you like to view the rest of your vault?"

Harry raised his hand and lightly placed his fingertips on the glass. "You did say … those were the pensive memories of the Blacks and the Potters?"

"Correct, Mr. Potter," Grumnak stated, and then with further clarification, "The Black family history is located to the left, while the Potter's is on the right, clearly labeled I might add."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "These weren't here before … the last time I was … in the old bank."

Grumnak placed his hands behind his back. "Correct, Mr. Potter. Upon your seventeenth birthday and your ascension into adulthood, the remaining vaults belonging to the Potter family and that of the Black family came into your possession."

"But I thought …"

"Upon Sirius Black's death you received control of the Black Family Estate which contained all of the monies, jewels, and magical items of which you are familiar. They were added to the trust your parents had arranged for your education and care for the time you were at Hogwarts.

"The remainder of their vault including their histories and more personal items as well as the Black's were transferred to your vault on your seventeenth birthday."

Harry spun to the side. "There's more … from my family I mean?"

Grumnak stood, non-plussed. "Of course, Mr. Potter."

Harry followed Grumnak's outstretched arm to the opposite wall where a similar arrangement contained two separate spaces, clearly labeled Potter and Black.

In a museum style setting the Potter side contained two sitting chairs with a small round table in-between. On the left side were a large amount of standing packages about three by two feet and on the other side various amounts baubles, knickknacks, personal items, and two rather large trunks, but what struck Harry dumb and motionless were the two wizarding portraits that hung above the twin chairs and their subjects waving madly at him.

"Mum … Dad …?"

16. Meeting the Parents

Chapter 16

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry inched forward watching the expression on his mother's face change to excited glee that he had noticed her. She urged him on waving him over franticly.

"Mr. Potter, your key," Grumnak suggested.

"Hmm? Oh … right."

Harry fished his Gringotts key from the chain that hung around his neck and handed it to Grumnak. He never broke eye contact with the portrait of his mother, but caught Grumnak, with his peripheral vision, inserting the key into the slot beside the Potter nameplate. The transparent wall of glass slid down into the floor and for the first time in his life, that wasn't a nightmare or a pensive induced memory he heard his mother and father speak.

"Harry!" they both said in unison.

Harry's teeth clenched in reaction trying to fight back the urge to run forward and hug a painting. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

"Grumnak," he started. "I need Hermione."

Without speaking the Goblin left the vault and Harry alone with the shades of his parents.

Lily Potter sat in her portrait wringing her hands in frustration while James, if it was even possible, looked eager and thoughtful at the same time.

"Son?"

Harry's eyes turned to the portrait of his father.

"You're seventeen now." He said it almost matter-of-factly.

Harry nodded.

James thoughtfully returned the nod. "And seeing for how long we've been in the family vault I take it the worst happened."

Harry nodded once more.

Lily covered her mouth with both hands and he heard her sob. "My poor baby!"

Harry looked to the side and screwed up his face while closing his eyes.

"Lily, you're upsetting him." James chided.

"Harry, come here son. Let us take a look at you," James requested in a fatherly sort of way.

The youngest Potter stepped forward without thinking about what he was doing, and then stopped before preceding any further. Instead he turned and almost ran out of the vault. He slammed his back up against the outside wall of the inset in the tunnel and slid down into a crouch, shuttering as he pushed the heals of his hands under his glasses and into his eyes.

"This can't be happening. This can't be happening."

Minutes flew by as he listened to the pleading of his mother to come back in and the coaxing voice of his father apologizing and asking him to return. The sound of a cart stopping brought him out of his self-induced trance and to the worried eyes of his wife.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked as she rushed to his side.

He shook his head. "In there."

Hermione looked up and into the vault. "What?"

"Our … vault," he managed to stutter out.

Her eyes darted about not seeing what was bothering him. She stood cautiously and peered about to see if there was any danger then stepped slowly into the vault.

"Thank goodness," she heard a woman's voice expressed in exasperation. She tracked where the sound came from and saw the two portraits hanging on the wall.

"Great Merlin!"

"You must be Hermione," James deduced.

She looked to the sied where Harry still sat, looking out into the tunnel. "Um … yes, sir."

"I take it then that you are Harry's friend?"

Hermione gave a very short nod then seemed to change her mind in confusion. "Well, sort of."

Lily interrupted, "Hermione is Harry all right?"

She looked back out in the tunnel. "I think he's in a bit of shock if I had to guess."

James seemed to be the voice of reason. "We know we're … dead. I'm sorry he had to see us this way after so long."

"Could you talk him into coming back in here. I need to see him, Hermione … please," pleaded Lily.

"You're doing fine, Hermione," called Harry from outside. "Give me a few more minutes."

She nodded then moved in to get a better look at the portraits of her in-laws.

James motioned downward. "Pull out a chair." He looked over to the portrait of his wife. "We'll just get to know you a bit and Harry can join us when he's ready."

Hermione did as instructed and pulled one of the armchairs out in front of the display case, setting herself in a proper fashion before the inevitable interrogation began.

James started off. "So how long have you known our son?"

"Since first year, sir."

James frowned. "You can call me James if you want. I mean I don't look that much older than you, do I?" he joked.

"James, don't tease her she's … oh!"

Hermione followed Lily's gaze down to her hand. She covered it up looking rather guilty in the process.

An arched eyebrow was returned to her from Lily's portrait. "Exactly how do you know our son?"

Hermione gave a very weak smile. "A-heh … that's a very long story …"

James leaned forward as if to get a better look only to stop as if he remembered he was locked in a wizarding portrait. "We seem to have some time – that is if you feel comfortable talking about it?

Then a strong voice came from the doorway to the vault, "She's my wife."

Harry moved closer and laid a protective hand on Hermione's shoulder. She returned his gesture by placing her hand on her husband's, now proudly displaying both of their wedding rings to his parents.

James' eyebrows shot up above the frames of his glasses. "Well now, I guess things have changed a bit since the early eighties."

Harry shook his head. "No, things are pretty much the same. Like Hermione said -- it's a long story."

Concern grew on Lily's face. "The same? So Voldemort's still …"

"Dead," Hermione answered again proudly. "Harry's defeated him."

James blinked rapidly goggling at his son and Lily's eyes almost bugged.

Harry strode forward and retrieved a chair from underneath his mother. "Perhaps we should start from the beginning."

He placed the armchair as close as he could to his wife and when he sat down she set her hand atop his and squeezed lightly, giving him the strength to proceed."

"It started on Halloween of 1981 …"

~*~

"Sirius should have had sense enough to dispose of all of those dark items -- a ring that possessed …" Lily scolded to nobody.

Harry snapped his head up. "Don't talk about Sirius like that."

"Harry," said James to cut his son off before he said something he would eventually regret.

Harry's eyes tracked to his father. "Sirius did everything for me ... he broke out of Azkaban and risked his soul against a hundred of Dementors trying to get to Wormtail before he could harm me, he fought off Remus when the werewolf came and tried to kill me and my friends. He supported and sided with me when almost no other adult cared whether or not I sat like a mushroom in the dark being fed copious amounts of bullshit."

Lily flinched and James stared on in grim determination.

"He helped me -- he actually cared about me. He ..."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Mr. And Mrs. Potter, Harry was willing to go up against Voldemort and a group of Death Eaters totally by himself when he thought Sirius was in trouble. And Sirius gave his life defending Harry."

She looked down and then back up again. "I think it would be a good idea never to speak harshly about Sirius in the future."

"Son," James began. "Sirius was my best mate. I don't know if you knew or not, but he was best man  your mother and mine's wedding."

Harry shook his head indicating that he was aware.

"Your mother wasn't being harsh toward Sirius. She was being what she always was ... his friend."

It didn't seem to be enough for Harry as he still stared on, anger holding his eyes.

James continued. "You mean to tell me you've never had a row with Hermione or your other friend -- what was his name – Ron?"

            Hermione almost laughed and James took advantage of the break in mood.

            "I thought not. That must be some friendship if you've never had one fight in seven years. Wow!" he said in mock surprise.

            "Harry," Lily broke in. "I love Sirius like he was my own brother. I'm sorry if it sounded any different."

            "Forget about it," Harry replied. He lifted up Hermione's hand and cupped it with his other. "I wouldn't have changed anything about last year. Hermione's my wife and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Hermione smiled sweetly and stood. "I'm going back up to the castle, Harry," his wife said before laying a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He nodded. "I'll be along in a bit. I want to sort through some of these things before I come back."

Hermione looked back up at Harry's parents. "It was nice to meet you both."

"You too," James responded.

Lily only smiled at her.

When the sound of a cart leaving signified their daughter-in-law's exit Lily finally spoke up.

"She seems like a very nice girl, Harry."

He nodded. "She's my life, mum. Everything I do … it's for her."

Harry tried to busy himself looking through the packages on the left, taking them out one at a time and unwrapping them.

"Harry," James said to get his son's attention. "Have you been happy?"

He paused in tearing the wrapper to what was obviously another portrait. "Erm …"

He didn't know how to answer the question. Certainly during the majority of his life he had been anything but happy. Spending almost ten entire years living under the whip of the Dursley's had not been a very happy portion of his life. In saying his happiest times had been when he entered school was strange for almost any child. But it was true of him.

Even those brief moments of childhood innocence had been marred by the ever-looming presence of Voldemort and the eventual death of his Godfather, quite possibly the lowest point of his life.

"Happy? There've been times …"

"I don't understand," replied Lily.

Harry tore at the brown wrapping and revealed a distinguished white-haired man in dark blue robes staring back at him. "It's about bloody time someone took that infernal wrapping off!"

He didn't bother answering back and only set the portrait aside. "It's like this, mum … I'm the boy who lived, the defender of the Philosopher's Stone, Opener of Chambers that Shouldn't be Opened, Conspirator of Escaped Convicts, Triwizard Champion, the boy with a saving-people complex, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord."

He spun on his heel and retreated to the opposite wall. "But it never stopped there did it? They had to keep coming. Now I'm the youngest Professor in Hogwart's history. Why? Because Dumbledore can't seem to find anyone else because the position is cursed. I'm Gryffindor Head of House. That's my own damn fault. And now I'm leading an economic revolt on the British Ministry of Magic by building a town out in the middle of nowhere. Happy? Have I been Happy?"

Exhaustion was etched on every inch of Harry's face. "I can't be happy, because every time I am … every single time I think I've done enough … something else comes along."

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I can't be happy. There's someone out there right now who has a death warrant out for Hermione, and I know the second … the very moment I feel the slightest bit of pure happiness then she'll be taken away from me."

"Oh, Harry," Lily emoted with a large amount of pity in her voice. "You can't think like that."

He looked back up at his mother and returned his glasses to his face. "Sometimes I just want to take her to a desert island and put up every ward in existence until nobody can find us, ever again."

"Then why don't you?" asked his father.

Harry fell back in his chair and laughed aloud. "If it were only that easy."

"Why can't it be?" his father inquired.

"I have responsibilities."

"You're seventeen. From what you and Hermione have told us you haven't even had a childhood. Why can't you let the bloody world take care of itself for once and you take care of your own?"

The urge pulsed through Harry to do just that. What use was all of the gold in the world if he couldn't do something with it just for he and his family? Thoughts of Dumbledore passed in his head.

"Because they can't do it on their own, dad."

James almost laughed. "No offense, son, but aren't you getting a little full of yourself?"

At that Harry did in fact laugh out loud. "They've had years to get it right. Years to prepare themselves for Voldemort's return and when he did get his body back and started terrorizing and killing again – you know what they did? They ignore it ... pretended like he wasn't even there."

"But to put all of this on your shoulders, Harry?" Lily questioned.

Harry sighed. "I'm all they've got right now, Mum. They have a chance now to change things for the better instead of putting up with the same old song and dance routine from the Ministry."

He sat thoughtfully for a moment. "Dumbledore was right – They need a leader. And right now I'm in a position to do just that."

He laughed again. "He predicted I'd become Minister of Magic one day. Said they needed someone to look up to ... someone with ..."

"What, Harry," Lily asked.

"A vision."

~*~

Harry left instructions for the disposition of his parents' belongings to one of the Goblin assistants. The majority of the portraits, furnishings, and odds and ends were to be transferred to the new Potter Estate located at the highest portion of the mountain above the rest of the houses that were being built. The portraits of his parents were to be placed in his and Hermione's study at Hogwarts.

The walk back to the community Floo was quiet and became a reflective moment for Harry. He did indeed have vision of what the world should be like and that was something he didn't think he could entrust to anyone but himself and his closest friends.

He did come to one conclusion though. Once the new government was set up and seemingly running smoothly, he would take his father's advice and do what he wanted to do in the first place: leave this troubled existence for someplace a little more quiet. Someplace where he and Hermione could start a proper family.

He flooed back to his rooms at Gryffindor Tower and pulled out the Marauder's Map he had stashed in his desk drawer so that he could find Hermione and see if she wouldn't mind living on a little island in the Caribbean for a year or two.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

A quick scan of the third floor showed no sign of his wife, nor was she in the Great Hall for lunch. Harry's brow wrinkled as he turned from area to area in search of his wife, knowing she wouldn't go anywhere else … knowing she wouldn't stray because of the threat on her life …

She wouldn't … would she?