Bearings
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Once you've finished, make sure to read the concluding author's note. And let me just say, regardless of what happens in Deathly Hallows, I will continue to write.
It's all the same
And I'll take you for who you are
If you take me for everything
Do it all over again
It's always the same
Sick Puppies
All The Same
Chapter Thirteen: The Deep Breath
Saturday, May 25th, 2002
"Who was that, Harry?" Jane asked, curiously, as he returned to the Granger's small backyard veranda. Dan had not moved from his chair, and still looked slightly bewildered from what Hermione had stated. Hermione sat across from her father, either oblivious to his shock or ignoring it. She and Jane were looking up at Harry with smiles on their faces.
"A friend from Stanford," Harry explained. "He had no way to reach me, so I hoped you wouldn't mind me asking Hermione for your home number."
"No, of course not," Jane replied. Dan said nothing. "But how would you know he'd call when you were here?"
Harry shrugged, smiled, and sat down between Hermione and Dan and across from Jane. "I didn't," he answered.
"Oh," Jane commented, and then glanced at Dan. It was only a slight movement of her eyes, but Harry saw it nonetheless.
"So," Hermione said, effectively concentrating the attention on her. "I believe I just said that I'm going to move in with Harry-"
"Yes," Dan cut her off, "you did." He looked at her, his brow creased, then met Jane's eyes. Finally, he swiveled his head in Harry's direction.
"Daddy…" Hermione started, but Dan held up his hand.
"What I want to know is," Dan started, still looking at Harry, "why all of the sudden?"
"Which part?" Harry asked. He wasn't trying to be cheeky, but some part of him was grinning. "The fact that I just expressed my love for your daughter or that she wants to move in?"
Dan considered Harry for a moment; Harry thought he looked like he couldn't chose between anger and humor at Harry's response. Jane was just watching her husband, very carefully.
"Both-I guess," Dan said. Harry looked to Hermione, who sent a silent glare toward Dan, but indicated with her eyes that Harry could respond.
"Well, Dan, you are incorrect in assessing my feelings for your daughter as `sudden'. I think Hermione would agree with me when I say that we've felt something for each other for a long time, perhaps since we were eleven."
"That's all well and good, but-"
"And totally true," Hermione added. Harry thought he saw Dan's eyes flick between his daughter and his wife, and possibly some of the fight went out of his stance. Even Harry knew you couldn't win against one Granger woman, let alone two. And the most amazing thing was that Jane hadn't even said anything; she communicated her disapproval of Dan's attitude with just her eyes. It reminded Harry strongly of the way he and Hermione occasionally held conversations-without words.
"As for Hermione moving in," Harry continued, slowly, "we've been back in Britain for a week now-and will be staying here-and she's been staying at the Manor more than here, I think." He met Dan's eyes, and although he didn't want Hermione's father to dislike him, Hermione was old enough to make her own decisions, and had plainly said in front of Dan that she intended to move in with Harry.
"The…Manor?" Jane asked, curiosity filling her voice, as she looked first to Hermione and then at Harry.
Hermione chuckled. It was a rich and lovely sound, one that filled Harry with warmth completely unrelated to the already-hot day.
"Yes, mum, the Manor. Harry lives in this brilliant mansion…"
"Oh?" Jane asked, smiling a bit. "Describe it to me."
"Well…" Hermione started, looking at her father, but he seemed to be awaiting the description as well. Harry wanted to hear how she would describe his home-no, their home.
"It's wonderful, really," Hermione said, now looking over Harry's shoulder into the backyard, though she wasn't focusing on anything as far as he could tell. "There's this amazing lake on the eastern side, and everything is almost completely wide open. It's far north of here, in the highlands somewhere near Hogwarts, so it's just fields and blue sky for miles.
"The house feels like an extension of the grounds; there're windows and balconies and skylights wherever possible. It feels fresh and airy and almost like you're outside, all the time. There's an enormous library with literally thousands of books-" her eyes lit up at this-"and beautifully appointed leisure and work rooms, and also an enormous loft that takes up the entire third floor.
"Most of which," she concluded, looking back into Harry's eyes, "is wide open also."
"Sounds incredible," Jane commented. "Seems to me like you're lucky, Hermione," she added, looking warmly at Harry. Harry couldn't have suppressed the smile he returned if he'd wanted to.
"I'm the lucky one, Jane," Harry said, most sincerely. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to properly thank Hermione for showing up at Stanford. He didn't even understand fully the significance yet. Harry just knew that it felt right, being with Hermione, and if he were going to move forward with his plans, she would have to be by his side. He didn't want it any other way.
"Well, you two have my blessing," Jane imparted. "And, I think, Dan's as well."
Dan then proceeded to jerk his head in a way that reminded Harry so strongly of the nod of assent Ron had given him when Ginny and him had kissed during his sixth year, that he fought recall. Harry wasn't sure why it happened like that, but deja vu was a tricky beast to tame.
"Yes," Dan said, glancing at Harry and then focusing on Hermione's dazzling smile.
"Thanks, Daddy!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry felt joy flood his veins at Hermione's enthusiasm. After a rather breathless hug between father and daughter finished, Hermione jumped up. She came around the table and pulled Harry up as well.
"Come help me pack!" she said, starting to pull him into the house. As he turned his head in the direction he was being pulled, he caught the amused wonder in Jane's eyes. Dan also seemed slightly surprised at something. Harry wondered if it was seeing their daughter so happy.
"Ok, love," he said, and let her guide him through the house and up the stairs toward her room. He realized, though, that he had much to accomplish during this day, some of which was moving Hermione in, and stopped in her doorway. She stood in the center of her room, turning slowly in a circle, as if figuring out the best way to attack organizing and packing her things.
"Hermione," Harry said, and she stopped, looking at him.
"D'ya think you can handle most of the packing?"
"Sure, but why?" she asked, crooking an eyebrow at him.
"I need to go to Gringotts and, ah, speak to Ragnok about some things, and I don't think I'm going to have time later," he explained.
"Oh…ok."
He could tell that his answer wasn't quite satisfactory enough for her.
"I won't be gone that long. Just shrink everything and we can Apparate it all up to the Manor when I get back. Does that sound good?"
"Yes," she said, smiling again, possibly at the thought of moving in. Harry hoped so, at least.
He walked toward her, slipping his arms around her smaller frame when he reached the middle of the room. He pressed a kiss onto her forehead.
"See you soon," he said, smiling internally as she pecked him on the lips. He stepped back, through space, and when he oriented himself he saw that he was just outside the doors of Gringotts, at the top of the stairs. Pushing through the doors into the lobby, he was immediately accosted by a goblin again.
"What can we do for you today, Lord Potter-Black?"
"I was wondering if I could possibly have a meeting with Director Ragnok?" Harry asked.
The goblin grinned, displaying his pointed teeth. It had ceased to unsettle Harry, who just smiled back.
"He has been expecting you," the goblin said. "Right this way, Lord Potter-Black." And Harry followed him through the familiar door and down the corridor with many doors, until they reached the very end, which appeared to be just a wall. The goblin tapped two specific places with a claw, and the wall slid away to reveal more of the corridor. This section was slightly more ornate, with fewer doors. On the left side toward the end was one with the inscription `Director Ragnok'. After the goblin had knocked, he left, but Harry had to wait only a moment or two before the door swung open.
There stood Ragnok, beaming up at him, looking quite ferocious with his fangs. Harry fought the sudden urge to laugh at how often he noticed goblins' teeth when they smiled.
"Harry, I'm glad to see you again. Come in!" Ragnok stated, and moved aside to let Harry into the office. Harry was expecting luxury, since Ragnok was the Director after all, but he was pleasantly surprised to see very modest accommodations, mostly. The only item that was lavishly appointed was the goblin's desk, which appeared to be made of the most expressive cherry wood Harry had ever seen. It had gold and platinum finishing. The rest of the office was quite unremarkable, however.
"Thank you," Harry said, taking a seat as Ragnok went around his desk to sit across from Harry. The Director had to move a pile of folders out of the way to see Harry. "Such a warm welcome, too."
"Yes," Ragnok replied, "but it is how you greet us."
"I thought you might say something like that," Harry chuckled. "I wonder, though, how rare this is?" he asked, indicating himself with a hand. "How many humans have had a casual conversation with you in this office recently?"
"None; at least not for the last seven years."
"And I assume the last was Albus?"
"Yes," Ragnok affirmed, nodding. "You are quite right. Albus and I got along very well. I wouldn't hesitate to call him one of my closest friends." Ragnok looked at Harry hard for a moment, considering something. "And I do hope some day we can call each other the same, Harry."
Harry was silent for a moment, thinking of something that had just occurred to him, something that was very important in his mind: whatever shortcomings Dumbledore may have possessed were far outweighed by the man's ambition to bridge the gap between all of the magical species. For it had been Dumbledore speaking to the Merpeople during the Triwizard Tournament, in their vernacular; it had been Dumbledore who alone had been able to quell the centaurs' wrath after Firenze had started to teach at Hogwarts; it had been Dumbledore who commanded the reverent respect of a legion of house elves; and it had been Dumbledore who'd befriended the most powerful goblin at Gringotts.
Harry suddenly wished he knew more about Dumbledore's long life, and exactly what the man-who was now a legend-had done to befriend so many different species on so many different levels. But Harry was thinking off on a tangent. Shaking his head, he focused on Ragnok once again.
"I would be honored, Ragnok, if some day you could call me friend and business partner," Harry returned, adding the final two words as a note of respect to the way goblins conducted their affairs. Ragnok smiled once again, though it was muted this time.
"Yes, hopefully, business partners indeed. But I doubt that you have come here today to exchange sentimentalities with me, Harry?"
"Quite right," Harry said, understanding what Ragnok said as an indirect way to move the conversation along. After all, Harry did not wish to waste any of Ragnok's time.
"I did want to speak to you about the Board of Directors," Harry said. Ragnok's beady eyes seemed to twinkle at his words.
"Yes?"
"Well…would there be a conflict of interest with something like, say, the Vice Minister position?" Harry asked, hoping that Ragnok would understand the real reason he had to ask. He didn't want to spell it out for the Director, and by the calculating look in the goblin's eyes, he probably wouldn't have to.
"And are you asking this because you will be running for that position?"
"Yes," Harry affirmed, finally verbalizing what he'd known for a day or two at least. He still had to tell Arthur and Hermione, though…and everyone else.
"Who would be the Minister?" Ragnok inquired.
"Arthur will be running for Minister."
Ragnok leaned forward, steepling his hands beneath his chin; he simply regarded Harry for several moments, so that Harry was unsure if the goblin had received the news well. Harry didn't think Ragnok had any reason to be upset over Arthur and Harry running, but what did Harry know? There were centuries of history between goblins and the Ministry of Magic that Harry couldn't even begin to contemplate.
"Interesting," Ragnok finally muttered. "You are sure that you and Arthur will be running this fall?"
"I still have to finalize things with Arthur, but yes, I'm sure," Harry replied. It felt good to finally be able to say, with certainty, he was going to do something. Granted, it was only running for the position, not taking the position, but it was a step in the right direction.
"Then I can tell you for sure that there would be no conflict of interest between the government and the Gringotts Board of Directors," Ragnok replied, smiling now.
"But…" Harry trailed off, wondering how there couldn't be.
"I think I understand your confusion," Ragnok said, leaning back in his chair once again. "You are assuming, of course, that as a member of the Board of Directors you would be involved in the various financial affairs of this institution?"
Harry nodded.
"And you are also assuming that as the Vice Minister you would be involved in certain legislative processes, especially some that directly involve the way Gringotts is run?"
Again, Harry nodded.
"Of the second, you are correct. Of the first, however, I think I need to explain more fully what Directors do. Do you know what an envoy is, Harry? Or an ambassador?"
"Sure," Harry said.
"As a Director, you would be more of an ambassador to other financial institutions, governments, and even species than any sort of financial officer for Gringotts." Ragnok paused for a second here. He appeared to be thinking about something. "I do remember telling you last time that, occasionally, Directors advised our Chief Financial Officer, but in your case I would advise you against that."
"I think I understand," Harry said, slowly, starting to see a picture of exactly how the future could be in his mind. It was a bit…overwhelming.
"Do you?" Ragnok asked, a strange intensity coloring his voice. "Do you really?"
Harry said nothing; instead, he just gazed at Ragnok, waiting for him to say what was obviously on his mind.
"As both the Vice Minister and a Director, you would be in the unique ambassadorial position of representing both Gringotts and the magical government. The implications are astounding, Harry, and I'm wondering if you fully grasp them yet?"
Harry wanted to be insulted by what Ragnok said, but instead of retorting like he wanted to, he thought about it. Ragnok was insinuating that Harry didn't understand what he was getting himself into, but he wasn't saying that was a bad thing. In fact, if Harry went by the inflection of the goblin's voice alone, he would say that Ragnok thought it was a very good thing.
Ragnok had been a close friend of Albus, and therefore had probably seen the last two centuries or so of wizard strife. There was a depth and reality to the goblin's words that Harry could only hope to have someday.
"I guess I don't," Harry finally said. There was something like approval on Ragnok's face.
"Albus would have been very happy to hear you admit that," Ragnok said, totally throwing Harry off guard.
"How so?"
"He was very worried in the last few years before his death over how being thrust into the spotlight would have affected you. He had nothing to fret over, though."
Yet another thing Dumbledore had never confided in him, though Harry couldn't find it within himself to be upset about it anymore. Dumbledore was, sadly, long gone; all that remained was a whisper of the man that had been, in the portrait at Hogwarts.
"In any case," Ragnok continued, "you have opened up exciting new possibilities that I and the other Directors must take time to think about." As he spoke, Ragnok wrote something on a piece of parchment and then placed it in the outbox on his desk. It promptly disappeared.
"The offer still-?" Harry started to ask.
"Yes, of course," Ragnok cut across him, laughing. Harry didn't know if he'd ever get used to the sound of goblin laughter. "I still want you on our board; that hasn't changed. What has changed, though, is what you might be able to do for us and for the rest of your society."
"Ok…" Harry said. He didn't really have time to get into the particulars at the moment, so he shifted directions. "Ragnok, I wonder what you think about Muggles?"
And for once, Harry seemed to catch the Director off guard, because Ragnok made no response for a moment or two.
"Why, Harry?" he asked.
"Just humor me."
"They are just humans without magic, are they not?" Ragnok asked, though Harry could tell the question was rhetorical. "Witches and wizards are just humans with magic…so I don't really consider Muggles to be much different than you."
"So you have no problem with them?"
"None," Ragnok affirmed. "Why?"
"How would you like two more humans to augment your ranks? They are the Muggles I've just been speaking of."
Ragnok grinned suddenly. "Harry…you are more like Albus than I think you know."
"Oh?"
"He made the same offer to me about fifty years ago, except it was three Muggles instead of two."
"What did you say then?"
"I of course said that I would meet with them and explore things further, but it appeared that Albus overestimated their willingness to try, how shall I say it, new things. They ran out of here screaming their fool heads off. Albus ended up Obliviating them."
"So you would be willing to meet with the two I have in mind, then?" Harry asked, excited that Ragnok appeared to have tolerance for these things.
"First I would like to hear what kinds of things you think they are suited for."
"Business finance and engineering…I was thinking as a finance officer and a security engineer."
"Security engineer?"
"Yes, such as improving existing security with your vaults and also developing new ideas for storage security."
"Hmm," Ragnok intoned. "I am definitely intrigued by what you're telling me, Harry, but I will of course need to meet with these mystery Muggles before I can tell you anything for sure."
"Yes," Harry replied, grinning now. "How does tomorrow sound?"
"It sounds good."
"Then I won't take up any more of your time today, Ragnok. Thank you for meeting with me and may all your ventures be prosperous," Harry said, standing and holding out his hand across the desk. Ragnok did the same and shook Harry's hand, this time with very little hesitation.
"With you, they will be," Ragnok replied. Harry met his eyes for a moment, sensing some profound knowledge lurking behind these black, beady marbles, and then let go of the goblin's hand.
"Until tomorrow," Harry parted, and then Disapparated directly from Ragnok's office. There was a shriek and a sudden movement as his world righted itself, and his wand was in his hand before he knew what he was doing. He lowered it soon thereafter, though, laughing at the scene before him.
He had Apparated directly into Hermione's room, and she apparently had not been expecting that, because upon his appearance, she'd started and jumped backwards, sprawling out on her bed. She was peering up at him with a very cross look on her face, though it was melting away quickly.
"Don't do that," she said, sitting up. "You don't make a warning noise, so you're just there."
"Sorry," he said, still laughing. He moved toward the bed and sat down next to her, slipping his arms around her waist. She leaned into his embrace.
"I see that you've been busy," Harry said, looking around her room. All the walls and shelves were bare, and there was a small pile of shrunken boxes and suitcases on the floor by the door.
"Doesn't take very long when you can use magic," Hermione commented.
"No, I suppose not," Harry returned.
"So what did you go to Gringotts for?"
Harry had known that she was going to ask him that exact question, and had an answer ready.
"For John and Erin."
"Huh?" It was rare that Hermione could articulate nothing more than a monosyllabic noise.
"You'll see, very soon," he said, leaning into her a little more and nuzzling her neck with his lips. He felt her relax against him and sigh a little bit.
"Harry," she half-moaned, as he tickled her pulse point with the tip of his tongue. "Not here, not in my parents' house." He pulled back and saw desire in her eyes, but understood what she said to be true.
"We have our own huge house to break in," she said, a sparkle breaking through the haze of desire in her gaze, and he laughed at what she was implying.
"And we shall, room by room," he returned, earning a chuckle from somewhere deep in her chest. It was music to his ears.
"First we need to move me into those rooms," she said, standing and pulling Harry up with her.
"Yes we do," Harry agreed, and waved his hand toward the pile on the floor. The boxes and suitcases floated up and toward them. Hermione directed half toward herself, and once everything was secure, they both Disapparated from the Granger home, silently.
Although neither had told the other where they were Apparating to, they both appeared in the foyer.
"Welcome to my home, Ms. Granger."
"Such a nice place you have, Mr. Potter."
"I'm glad you think so, Lady Granger."
"Shall we ascend these stairs, Lord Potter-Black?"
"Aye, milady, your castle awaits."
Smiling, they mounted the steps and made their way toward the master suite of rooms, where once they arrived they deposited Hermione's belongings on the large bed they had already shared on several occasions. Hermione immediately returned a box to its normal size and began to unpack her things. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, wanting to talk to her about several things.
He paused for a moment, though, just watching as she flitted about the room, placing a few of her most favorite pictures on the dresser where several of Harry's already stood. She looked so beautiful; even though she was only wearing jeans and a tee, because of the beatific smile lighting her face. She was almost glowing with happiness. Harry was amazed someone so wonderful wanted to be with him.
"What?" she asked, having paused halfway back to the bed and catching him staring at her.
"Nothing," Harry said, gathering his thoughts back to him.
"What?" she asked again.
"You're amazing, you know that?" he asked. Her smiled turned into that slightly awkward one she always wore when someone complimented her.
"Thanks, Harry," she said, and moved the rest of the way toward the bed. Reaching into the box, she pulled out her first edition copy of Hogwarts, A History. Harry watched as her fingertips traced the raised letters on the cover.
"Remember when you got me this?" she asked, looking up at him. He nodded; he remembered very well when he had purchased that for her.
"During our seventh year."
"Yes," she agreed. "Christmas that year wasn't very spectacular, was it?"
"Oh, I don't know," Harry mused. "It was just the six of us…"
"Yeah, because we were searching in Glasgow in the middle of that horrible blizzard."
"If the snow hadn't forced us into that little shop, I would have never found the book for you," he said, smiling at the memory.
"True," she said, turning away and placing the book on the top of the dresser with the pictures. It had been published in 1755, so it was good for little more than a memento now.
"Harry, I don't know if you remember," she continued, turning back, "but there is a Victory Day celebration tomorrow."
"Oh, right," Harry said. He had indeed forgotten; he now remembered Arthur telling him about it when the current Vice Minister had asked him to run.
"Did you want to go, or…?" Hermione continued to slowly unpack and arrange her things.
"It's tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"I, well I know I probably should, but I just don't know if I'm going to have time, what with all that's going to be happening…"
"Like what?" Hermione asked.
"With John and Erin-"
"So you're really going to bring them over here?"
"I think so," he affirmed. "They seemed willing."
"Yes, but they don't know you're a wizard or that magic really exists. What are they going to say when you suddenly appear before them? And don't even get me started on how severely you're going to be breaking the Statute of Secrecy."
"Hermione," Harry placated, "do you think I would be doing this if I didn't have a good reason?" She had no response. "And besides, the Statute of Secrecy can be broken if the Muggles are going to be working and living in the magical world."
Hermione whirled around to look at him, a few articles of clothing hanging limply in her hand. Harry tried hard not to look at the lacy black thong amongst them, and not to imagine what Hermione would look like wearing only that.
"When are you going to tell me exactly what you're planning for them?"
"Tonight, when they hear it, too," he answered, hoping that would be enough for her. It seemed to be, because she finished her journey to the armoire and placed the clothing inside.
"About tomorrow, though," he said, picking up the thread about the V-Day anniversary celebration. "Do you know what time the party is?"
"Usually starts sometime around four in the afternoon, and goes until very late," she supplied, her back to him as she hung up a few dresses in their closet.
"I…I guess we can go," he replied. "John and Erin would probably have to stay here, though."
"It's not like you don't have the space," she commented. He could hear the amusement in her voice.
"True, but they may be a touch overwhelmed at that point."
"They seemed like perfectly capable people; I'm sure they will be able to adjust should whatever you're going to show them be of interest." Harry could tell that she wanted to know why he was bringing them to Britain.
"Hermione…" he started. She stopped her movements around the room, which he had been following with his eyes the whole time, and arched an eyebrow at him.
"What is it, Harry?"
"What do you really think of this whole Vice Minister thing?" She cocked her head to the side, regarding him, and then moved back toward the bed. She sat next to him and slipped her arms around him, much as he had done minutes before in her bedroom. Her thin, toned arms felt immeasurably good against his body.
"Are you really asking me if I think it's a good idea?"
"I guess, yeah."
"Then yes, Harry, I think it's a wonderful idea, if I'm going to be perfectly honest."
"You do?" he asked; he couldn't help himself. Some part of him thought she wouldn't like him as her boss, but that might have been the part left over from the trials and tribulations of their sixth year.
"I do," she asserted, leaning back a little so she could look in to eyes. He could stare into those endless chocolate pools forever. He was almost overcome with emotion, for a moment, when he realized that the same profound depth he'd seen in Ragnok's eyes was there in hers, as well. He really wondered why he deserved someone as special as Hermione.
"I just don't know if it's going to matter," he told her, finally relieving at least one of his insecurities about the whole thing.
"Of course it will."
"But…how can I make a difference? I'm just a half-blood, just a boy, really…why would people want to listen to me?"
"They will whether they want to or not," she told him. "I doubt whether you'll ever be able to acknowledge it, Harry, but people listen to you, whether they want to or not. They take notice of you, whether they want to or not. You will make it matter just by being you."
"Why, though? The only thing I ever did was knock a tosser off a tower…"
"Defeating Riddle was an accomplishment, but far from your only one." Hermione took his face in her hands and leaned forward, so that their noses were inches apart. "You gave our world a chance to go on, to maybe fix some of its problems. You made friends amongst other species without really trying, when no one else could have trying to."
"Why are you so good to me?" he asked her, suddenly. He knew that everything she said was true, to some degree, but she didn't have to say any of it. She had accomplished far more in her life than he had.
"Because you're good to everyone else," she replied, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. "And especially good to me."
"Do you think I should run?" he asked her, point blank.
She shrugged a little bit. "That's not for me to tell you, Harry. That decision lies with you and you alone. But I do think you'd do a wonderful job as Vice Minister. I couldn't think of anyone better suited for the position. Do you want to run?"
He took a deep breath: "Yes, I think I do," he stated.
She leaned back once again and swept her eyes over his face, seeking an answer to some unspoken question. Finally, she nodded, and embraced him.
"I'm glad you think so." Her voice was slightly muffled against his chest. "If you and Arthur win, you'll be my boss," she added.
"Yes, and how does that make you feel?" he asked, lightly, though he really did want to know.
"Just fine, Harry, just fine."
"Somehow I doubt I'll have to interfere with your department at all," he commented. "You're highly capably at anything you put your mind, Ms. Granger."
"So are you, Mr. Potter," she replied, lifting her head.
"I think the jury's still out on that one," he joked. She laughed a bit, relieving whatever gravity had flowed into the situation.
"I think we should go tell Arthur the good news," she said, pulling him up once again.
"Sounds like a plan," Harry answered, encircling her warm body in his arms and concentrating on the Burrow's back yard, leaving the Manor empty except for three very content House Elves.
The first thing Harry noticed upon reappearing at the edge of the orchard was the heat, which had only increased as the day wore on. It was almost stifling, which for the end of May in Britain was unusual. Harry waved a mild refreshing charm over the both of them, and then set about looking for signs of Arthur or Molly.
"Think he could be at work?" he asked.
"I doubt it," Hermione answered, and then pointed toward the shed near the garden, from whence came various clunking sounds. Harry knew it to be the place where Arthur kept all of his Muggle things, since Molly refused to let them anywhere near the house.
They made their way across the parched lawn toward the shed; as they drew closer, the sounds grew louder, and when they were a mere ten feet away, the door banged open. Arthur emerged from the haziness within coughing, sputtering, and waving his hands in front of his face.
"Arthur?" Harry called.
"Oh!" Arthur exclaimed, turning to look at Harry and Hermione. "I didn't see you two there."
"Alright there?" Hermione asked.
Arthur smiled back at them. "Of course, of course. How about you?"
"We're fine," Harry replied, looking sideways at Hermione. He saw her carefully concealed smile.
"What brings you to the Burrow?" Arthur asked, dusting off his robes and leading them back toward the house.
"I wanted to talk to you about what you asked of me last weekend," Harry said, causing the older man to stop abruptly and turn to stare at Harry.
"And the fact that you haven't said `no' yet leads me to believe that you are going to accept my offer?" Arthur asked, in a surprisingly insightful moment of clarity. Harry and Hermione just stood there, looking at him.
Finally, Harry shrugged and smiled; Arthur smiled back and continued on his way toward the house, with them following. As soon as he'd opened the door to the kitchen, he shouted, "Molly, Harry and Hermione are here to see us!"
As they entered into the much cooler kitchen, Molly came through the door to the living room, a smile lighting up her face.
"Harry! Hermione!" she said, rushing over and embracing them each. "What brings you here?" she asked, pushing them into chairs at the table and placing a plate of cookies before them. They smelled just-baked. Arthur sat across from them and Molly soon joined them.
"We were just getting to that," Harry said, taking a cookie and biting a hunk off. They tasted heavenly. "These are wonderful, as usual, Molly."
"Oh, thank you," she brushed the compliment off.
"How are you?" Arthur asked, looking at Hermione. "Ready to get back to work soon?"
She nodded. "Yes, I think I am," she replied. "I do thank you for the time off, though, because it has turned out wonderfully."
"Yes," he said, glancing at Harry, "I'm sure it has."
"Arthur," Harry said, "if I were to accept your offer, when would everyone find out?"
"What offer?" Molly asked, but Arthur ignored her for the moment.
"Tomorrow, I'd imagine, at the V-Day party," he responded.
"What are you talking about?" Molly inquired again.
"Your husband has asked me if I would run as his Vice Minister this fall, Molly, and I'm accepting that offer," Harry answered, with as little pretense as possible. He always did like things when they were straightforward.
"But…"
"Amos isn't running again, dear," Arthur explained. "He asked me if I'd be willing to run as Minister in his place, and when I agreed I had to find myself a Vice Minister. Harry seemed liked the perfect choice."
"Well, of course he is!" Molly fairly exploded, shock turning into happiness at once. "And that means you'll be staying here in Britain, right?"
"Yes, it does," Harry nodded.
"That's perhaps the best of news," she commented, and Harry felt Hermione silently agree next to him.
"Are you two going to be attending the V-Day celebration tomorrow?" Arthur asked, a new light glinting in his eyes.
Harry looked at Hermione; she nodded. "Yes, I think we are."
"Then that will be the perfect opportunity to make our announcement, Harry," Arthur said, standing up. "I am going to Floo Amos right now and tell him the news. He will want to hear this." Arthur left the kitchen through the door to the living room. They then heard the fire roaring to life and his muffled voice.
"I'm happy for you two," Molly suddenly broke the silence, in a very knowing voice. Harry and Hermione were leaning against each other.
"Thank you, Molly," Hermione replied.
"And I'm glad you're back, Harry," Molly added.
"Me too." He turned toward the woman in his arms and smiled.
----------
"Alright, Hermione, I think I'm going to get going," Harry called out from the bathroom where he was washing up. Hermione was still unpacking her things, and their room looked much more lived in now she'd had a few hours to settle in. She appeared in the doorway seconds later.
"How long do you think you're going to be?"
"Not very long," he said. It was nearing seven in the evening, so the light coming through the windows was orange. "I think I'm going to bring them back to the balcony up on the third floor."
"Ok," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll be waiting for you."
"I'll see you in a little bit then," he said, and started to gather his magic around him. He focused on a point just off campus at Stanford, and felt Apparition take hold. Next thing he knew, he was standing in a small copse of trees, in a small park about a block from campus. The sun was high in the sky, beating down upon him, because it was only eleven o'clock here.
Harry hadn't actually heard John say the name of the place Erin and him were staying, but there were only a few hotels near the campus, so his choices were limited. He left the park on foot and made his way to the nearest, which was only two blocks away. As he passed into the cool lobby, he wondered not for the first time how John and Erin would truly react to the rather earth-shattering things Harry was about to show them. He hoped they took it well. He didn't want to have to Obliviate them like Albus had done to his Muggle friends.
"Sir?" the clerk asked, as Harry stopped at the front desk.
"Yes, I wondering if a John Sanders was staying here?" Harry asked, receiving a curious look from the man. Harry had no doubt it was because of his accent.
"Just a moment," he said, and began tapping keys on his keyboard. Several seconds of silence passed, and then the man nodded. "Yes, Mr. Sanders is staying with a Ms. Lowell in suite 301."
"Thank you," Harry said, walking away from the desk, thinking about how easily he had procured that information. Anyone could have just walked in and found out John and Erin were staying here. Sometimes Muggles were too free with their information.
As he rode the elevator up to the third floor, anticipation grew in Harry as the moment of truth drew nearer. The doors dinged open and he stepped out into the hall, following the signs toward the correct room.
Then, he stood in front of the large `301' on an otherwise unremarkable door, and raised his fist to knock. He paused for a fraction of a second, thinking of how this would change everything, and then rapped his knuckles against the door.
"Sec!" someone called out, and there was a sound of pattering feet, coming toward the door. It was thrown open, and there was Erin, grinning at him.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, and threw her arms around him. He laughed, deep and true, and patted her back. John came into view from the adjoining bathroom, also grinning at him.
"How are ya, buddy?" John asked, as Erin backed up.
"I'm great. What about you two?"
"We're ok," Erin said, glancing at John. She was dressed in slacks and a tee and John had on shorts and a polo shirt. They were a very handsome couple, and it was hard for Harry not to notice the similarities between Erin and Hermione. Obviously, their faces were much different, but their statures were very close.
"Harry," John said, with the tone of a question in his voice, "how did you get here so fast?"
"Well," Harry said, wondering again what he was getting himself into, "that's one of the reasons I wanted to come here today-to tell you how I could get here so fast." John and Erin just looked confused, and understandably so.
"Remember when I told you to have open minds?" Harry asked, looking around the room for their luggage. He saw it piled in a corner.
"Yeah…" John said. Erin had stepped back so that she was pressed against John's front.
"Then open them" Harry commanded, and waved his hand in the direction of their luggage. John and Erin turned their heads that way, and watched with widening mouths as the suitcases floated into the air and shrunk considerably. Harry knew their eyes were following the now much smaller pieces as they headed for Harry; he snatched them from the air and deposited them into the pockets of his shorts.
"Harry, what?" John articulated, and Harry made eye contact with his friend. Erin just looked completely gobsmacked. "What did you just do?" the tall blond managed to get out.
"Magic," Harry replied, holding out his hand and allowing the Lumos spell to effervesce from his palm. White light slowly filled the room.
Harry snapped his palm closed, ending the spell, and everything returned to normal-except, of course, John and Erin's eyes. They were wide with wonder and maybe a little fear.
"Now guys, just take deep breaths. Don't freak out or anything," Harry placated, moving toward them slowly. "John, didn't you ever wonder why I never told you much about my life in Britain?"
John nodded stupidly, still staring at Harry's closed hand, where the light had emanated from. Erin was as white as a ghost.
"That's because I couldn't tell you. I would have broken something called the Statute of Secrecy, which basically means that wizards and witches can't reveal the magical world to Muggles. There are a few exceptions, however, and this is one of them."
"Um, ok," was all John said in reply. Harry fought a grin that wanted to spread across his face.
"Just bear with me, ok?" he asked them. He held out his arms. "Each of you take a hand, and hold on tight," he said. Slowly, hesitantly, they reached out and grasped his hands. Erin's was trembling slightly.
"Where are we going?" she asked, and Harry looked at her oddly for a moment. How did she know they were going anywhere?
"To Britain," Harry responded, and gripped their hands firmly. He felt Erin squeeze back a little stronger, and in that moment he knew that they would ok with everything. He concentrated on the balcony where he knew Hermione was waiting, and then let his magic fill his veins. The three of them left the room with the tiniest of pops, and then Harry was making sure John and Erin didn't fall over as they materialized on the balcony.
"Whoa, what was that!" John exclaimed, looking back and forth between Erin and Harry and rubbing his chest slightly.
"Felt like being squeezed through a rubber tube?" Harry asked, now unable to contain the smile.
"Yes," Erin answered, shaking her head slightly.
"Well, you two are taking this much better than I would have," a new voice said, and all three turned toward Hermione, who was sitting at the table, eyeing them.
"Hermione!" John and Erin said at once, and then looked back and forth between Harry and her.
"So wait, does that mean, are you-?" John asked, apparently unable to say the word, as if he didn't believe it yet. And he probably didn't, because Harry didn't when Hagrid had told him, at least not right away. It hadn't taken much, of course, but that might have been his supreme desire to believe he was different than the Dursleys.
Hermione nodded, and suddenly Erin had to sit down. Harry caught her arm and helped her to a seat. John followed and sat next to her. Harry took the seat next to Hermione and found her hand underneath the table.
"I'm not sure what's going on here, but are we really in Britain?" John asked, looking out over the edge of the balcony, toward the west where the sun was beginning to set.
"Yes," Harry answered, also looking out over the grounds. This was a great time of day to be outside at the Manor, because everything looked so idyllic.
"So you just took us from California to Britain in the blink of an eye?" Erin asked, sounding a little breathless. Harry looked back to the table as Hermione reached across with her other hand and grasped Erin's. The two women made eye contact for a moment and some kind of understanding seemed to pass between them.
"It's called Apparition," Harry supplied. "I Disapparated the three of us from that hotel and Apparated us to here."
"So…so magic is real?" John asked, all in rush, as if asking the question would, at the same time, sound foolish and make everything they'd just witnessed real.
"Yes," Harry and Hermione answered at once. "Very real," Harry added. "Sometimes too real."
"But that is neither here nor there," Hermione cut in, sending Harry a warning glance as if to say there were some things they didn't need to know yet. "It's simply important for you to understand that there is magical world that's been hidden from you all of your lives, and will remain hidden from most Muggles-that's non-magical humans-all of their lives."
"I would say you're both lying and playing some huge practical joke on us, but there's no way you could have set up that thing with our luggage," John said. He was looking at Harry and Hermione with a very curious expression.
"So you believe us?" Harry asked. John shrugged and looked at Erin, who shrugged as well.
"What's the alternative?" she asked. "It's hard to forget what we've just seen and felt."
"There are ways…" Hermione said. "But only if you wanted to," she added, quickly, seeing their looks of fear.
"There are ways to make someone forget something, but they're spells normally done with consent," Harry said. "And we would never do something like that unless you wanted us to."
John started laughing then, and Erin, Hermione, and Harry looked at him, waiting for him to explain. As he calmed down, wiping tears from his eyes, he looked at Harry with his characteristic toothy grin.
"Listen to you, talking about spells and magic and fuck-if-I-know what else…and look at us, taking it all with no problem at all."
"Is there a problem?" Harry asked, quietly.
"No, I don't think so, Harry, but you have to know this is a little hard to believe at the moment. Granted, I always thought there was something a little strange about you, the way you carried yourself differently from everyone else, and now I think I know why. It's because you are different from everyone else…" John said. Erin was nodding along with him.
"But I'm not really that different," Harry returned. "Sure, magic sets us apart, but we both played baseball, we were both business majors, we both did well in our classes, and we both have beautiful women sitting next to us." Hermione tightened her hand in his for a moment, and Erin smiled at him.
"This magic you do-I still can't believe this is real-is a pretty big difference, I'd say," John commented.
"Only if you make it out to be," Hermione cut in. "Our ability to do magic makes some things easier, sure, but there are plenty of things Muggles can do that magical people can only dream of. We each have our advantages and disadvantages, but when it comes down to it, we're all human."
"She's right, John," Erin said. "But I still don't quite understand what this magic is. So you can do tricks, or what?"
"Tricks is one way to put it," Harry said, laughing, "but we can do most anything with magic, if we really want to-"
"Well, maybe you can, Harry," Hermione interrupted. "You see, John and Erin, what Harry would never tell you because of his modesty is that he is a very powerful wizard, perhaps the most powerful alive today." Silence greeted her revelation, and Harry watched as, almost comically, John and Erin's eyes slid toward him, their minds trying to absorb this new piece of information.
"Don't let Hermione fool you, though," Harry said. "She's one of the most powerful witches alive."
"So what are you, like fucking Merlin or something?" John asked.
Hermione laughed out loud, soon joined by Harry. Erin and John looked back and forth between them, nonplussed.
"You two aren't exactly making this any easier," John commented, looking quite surly. He didn't seem to be shocked anymore, though. Erin, on the other hand, still looked slightly shaky.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, through her laughs. "It's just," she tried to continue, "you have no idea how close you are to the truth." Harry stopped laughing immediately, looking at Hermione. He had thought she was laughing at the absurdity of John's statement, not the veracity of it.
"Oh, come on Harry, don't be so modest," she said after seeing the look on his face, and hitting his arm lightly. "You defeated the darkest bloody wizard since Morgana."
"What?" Erin asked.
Harry and Hermione looked toward her. "Eh…that's a story for another day I think," Hermione told her, looking slightly apologetic.
"So why exactly are we here?" John asked. "You said you had jobs for us, Harry?" He looked slightly hopeful, and Harry knew John had been totally serious when he'd said the search for jobs was already wearing on them.
"Yes, I do," Harry responded, settling down a bit. "But first I want to make sure that you two aren't going to lose your minds if I reveal anything else?"
John shrugged, and Erin said, "None of this has sunk in yet, Harry, so by all means, keep the hits coming."
"There is a problem in my world at the moment," Harry started, not realizing his use of the possessive, "which simply defined is one of discrimination. There are many different sentient magical species-humans are just one of them-and for the longest time we have held prejudiced views toward the rest.
"I'm going to be staying in Britain now that I'm done with school to try and correct those wrongs, both indirectly through the government and directly as an ambassador to one or more of the other sentient species. I brought you two over here because the Wizarding bank, Gringotts, is run by goblins, and they're looking for a few humans to help them heal relations between humans and their species."
"Goblins?" Erin asked, weakly.
Harry inclined his head. "Yes, goblins, though very unlike any goblins you might have seen in the movies. They're highly intelligent and ambitious, and about as savvy as they come with regard to business."
"You want us to work for goblins?" John asked, incredulous. Whether it was toward the concept of goblins or that they would be working for them, Harry was unsure.
"Yes," Harry answered. "I set up a meeting tomorrow with the Director of Gringotts, Ragnok, when we can discuss all of this in more detail. But basically, John you would be a finance officer of some kind and Erin you would be a security engineer."
And seemingly despite themselves, both John and Erin sat up a little straighter at the mention of jobs they could have. Harry hoped he was breaking through to them.
"And we would be working to improve-how did you put it-`relations' between species as well?" John asked, slipping his arm over Erin's shoulder.
"Not only that," Hermione said, cottoning on to what Harry had in mind, "but also between Muggles and magical people. You would be in the unique position of working amongst goblins but also in a position normally reserved for someone with magic."
"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings, whether magical or human or not, and I think you two can help me make that a reality," Harry said, quietly, staring out over his darkening property. Twilight was creeping up on them.
Silence fell across the balcony for several minutes, as each was absorbed in his or her thoughts. Harry wondered how much easier things would be if his mentor was still alive, or if his parents were, or even Sirius, but he knew that such suppositions would get him nowhere. If he were going to move forward, then he would do it with Hermione and all of his friends and family at his side, regardless of whether they were there in spirit or person. It mattered not which to him.
"Can we have some time to think things over?" John asked, looking at Erin.
"Of course," Hermione said. "Have you two eaten?" she asked.
"Not today," Erin answered.
"This change in time is going to mess you two up, isn't it?" Harry asked.
John shook his head. "We're still beat from our trip to LA, so I don't think we'll have any trouble sleeping tonight."
"Where's the rest of your stuff?" Harry asked, thinking of everything that had filled John's and Erin's rooms at Stanford, all of which surely couldn't have fit inside the few suitcases still in his pockets.
"We put it in storage back in Cali," Erin said.
"Well, I might have to get it tomorrow evening," Harry said, standing. The three others stood as well.
"Let's head down to the dining room," Harry said, hoping Dobby would know to stay away just now. Erin and John had enough to think about at the moment.
"After you, Mr. Wizard," John said, some of his trademark wit entering his voice.
"Ha ha, Sanders," Harry laughed, sarcastically, and led them all through the glass doors into the huge third floor loft. He smiled to himself at how the day had turned out. Things were looking up.
Author's Note: We're nearing the end of what I consider to be part one of this story. In fact, the next chapter will wrap up this piece of the saga. I have two more parts planned, but I need to know if you all want me to continue. Parts two and three aren't any shorter, and we've already come over 150,000 words. Leave a comment, not only for this chapter, but also indicating whether you're interested in seeing `Bearings' continue. Thanks.
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