Chapter 7: Potter Manor
Harry didn't sleep much that night. After about a half hour of fitful sleep he gave up and simply sat on the edge of his bed, watching the slow rise and fall of Hermione's chest. He was content to simply sit there for hours, watching over her. Protecting her. Occasionally she would start to toss and turn, no doubt in the grips of a nightmare about her parents. Harry would lean forward and whisper comforting words to her, and that seemed to ease her anguish and allow her to drift back to sleep. Harry didn't really understand what spurred on this peaceful watch that he maintained over his friend. Perhaps it was the Hufflepuff he had gained bringing out his loyalty to her. Or his inner Ravenclaw allowing him to bring inner tranquility to the tortured mind.
Looking at it subjectively, Harry liked to think it was just because.
At some point Harry did manage to nod off slightly, for when he awoke Hermione's bed was empty. His eyes quickly darted around the room, only to settle on the girl sitting in a chair against a window, her hands cradling something or other. Harry slowly got up, his muscles stiff from the awkward way in which he had slept, and he slowly padded over to Hermione. She looked up at him, rapidly trying to dry her eyes. Harry glanced down at what she was holding, and his breath took a pause. Briefly he had caught a flash of some photos from Hogwarts. She quickly closed the book, but the look he gave her let her know the jig was up. Sighing, she opened the book.
"It's an album I made. I was going to give it to you for your birthday but...." she trailed off as she handed the book to Harry and allowed him to flip through the pages. The book was constructed from a hard leather binding, colored red and gold Harry noted, and filled nearly to the brim with photographs from his first 5 years at Hogwarts. He suspected that Colin had taken many of the pictures, but that wouldn't explain his victory at his first Quidditch match ever. Or shots of the Leaving Feast in 1st year. Harry didn't question it however, and simply allowed him to be overtaken by many of the memories.
His eyes settled on one picture of the DA, and his eyes crossed the visage of the man he considered his brother, Ron Weasley. To be certain Harry wasn't entirely sure how the Weasley's would react to this bit of news given everything that had happened to him, but he hoped that they would accept it. He didn't want to lose Ron as a friend. His eyes crossed the picture of Ginny and he too felt a longing to keep her as a friend. There had been a short time when he had thought that something more was developing there, but it had passed almost as quickly as the school year had faded. Closing the album, he simply looked at its cover and muttered..."Thank you 'Mione." He looked up at the young girl, perhaps for the first time as a young woman, and offered a genuine smile. Hermione returned it, and they both stayed there a moment, enjoying each other's company.
After a few moments Harry excused himself to take a shower. As he stood under the hot water, he leaned forward and let out a long deep breath. The gravity of the situation was beginning to weigh on his mind, and he slowly took to trying to relax the tension out of his muscles. He stood in the steam filled room for several minutes, rapidly inhaling and exhaling the relief his pent up frustration and anger. As he did, his train of thought took several different directions at once. The muddled feelings that he had for Hermione. The ramifications of his actions the day previous. Sirius' Death. Everything circled around his in his mind as he came to one final conclusion.
Dumbledore.
Thinking of the old man he had trusted slowly began to make Harry's blood boil as he pieced everything together. It was so bloody obvious now....everything that had happened in his life had been perfectly orchestrated by Dumbledore. The man had sat back with his god damned lemon drops and watched as Harry's life played before him like some symphony. A symphony written and composed by Albus Dumbledore.
He had sent him to live with the Dursley's.
He had allowed Snape to violate him.
He was at least partly responsible for his godfather's death.
Add to those three immutable facts the recent discoveries of those damnable curses on his soul and....Harry could hear a slight crack in the mirror of the bathroom as he considered everything, and silently forced himself to calm down. After he was certain he could continue without blowing the place up, he began to focus on Dumbledore once more.
The casual way in which Dumbledore seemed to interfere with Harry's life may have upset him more than even the actual act. Who was this man to dictate Harry's life? Just because he was considered the greatest sorcerer of all time did not give him the right to interfere so directly in another person's life. Doing so meant he was no better than that which the old man claimed to stand against, namely Voldemort.
Harry almost chuckled at the irony.
He shut off the water and used a small charm to dry himself off. Throwing on an old polo shirt and some jeans, he reminded himself he'd have to get a proper muggle attire to go along with the massive number of wizard's robes he had purchased. Furthermore he knew Hermione would need some new clothes to...and a place to stay....
Harry came out of the bathroom with his mind slightly dazed. Hermione was still sitting on her bed, glancing at the photos, her hair still hanging loose and her eyes still partially puffy and red. Harry could tell she had been crying again. The poor girl had been traumatized in way's that Harry didn't possibly understand.
"Harry," she asked, closing the book and looking at him with worry adamant in her eyes. "Where are we going to stay. I mean, I know you're emancipated and everything but....well I'm still sixteen for a few months. And they could still try to take you back to the Dursley's...." Harry frowned. The girl needed to do something besides worry. Inwardly he thought for a moment, trying to allay her latest concerns, but he was certain that underneath it all there was an underlying problem that they had to confront. He thought back to anything that might help him with her obvious concern to be left alone again, to be taken away from safety. His knowledge of technical matters concerning wizarding law were sorely lacking. He looked down at his hands, eying the Potter ring as he did so. The conversation with Orlock the day previous and an idea came to his head.
"I think I can help you with that. I can make it so that Dumbledore can't touch us." Hermione flinched at the spite that shone in his voice at the use of the headmaster's name, but she didn't call him on it. Harry held out his hand, extending his ring finger. "Place your wand on my ring," he asked, recalling the ancestral knowledge that seemed to be inherent to the ring. Hermione tilted her head slightly.
"Harry, what are you going to do." Harry didn't answer, and merely motioned for her to perform the requested action. Hermione kept a solid look on Harry, wary of anything out of the ordinary. After several seconds, she pulled her wand out of her pocket and placed it on his ring. There was a slight red spark as she did so.
"I, Harry James Potter, Lord of the House of Potter, do hereby and forever more recognize Hermione Jane Granger as a friend of the House of Potter and shall offer her the safety and protections of my house till such a time when she releases me from this oath. So mote it be." The room darkened a little as the ring glowed with power, excepting the ancient oath. When it was done, Harry let out a deep breath and sat back down on the bed. Hermione just stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
"What just happened," she asked, pocketing her wand again.
"I just made you a friend of my house," he said, idly running his fingers through his hair. "Essentially that makes me like your legal guardian. And since I'm emancipated, they can't do anything to me. Locking me up at the Dursley's would be like kidnapping." He offered as much of a smile as he could, frankly a little embarrassed at how quickly the idea had come to him. He silently hoped that she wouldn't rebuke him for the gesture without asking her first. Hermione contemplated it for a moment, before nodding her head and releasing the same sorrowful smile that had been a constant companion on her face.
"Thank you," she managed to whisper again, and Harry smiled back. For once she didn't press him on why he had done it, or how he had done it, but simply sat there, the explanation from the night previous being enough in her mind. Harry could still see the lingering affects of something they needed to talk about lurking at the fringe of her mind. Hermione seemed apt to not want to talk about it. Before Harry could bring it up she changed the subject again.
"So, are we going to this new house of yours?" she asked, trying to sound curious. Harry paused and simply nodded.
"Yeah, I'm kind of eager to get there myself. But first we need to get you some new clothes." Hermione looked down at herself and frowned.
"But Harry-I don't have any money." She cast a deep frown, one that almost made Harry's heart ache at seeing it. Shaking his head Harry managed a small smirk.
"Oh but I do. And before you say anything let's just get one thing straight. I can't have a friend of the House of Potter not be treated as a friend of the House of Potter. That means you are going to go and buy however much you want or need....no questions asked."
"But..."
"No buts," Harry interjected, his smile growing wider. "I need some more muggle clothes anyway so at least you won't be alone." He paused for a moment before setting his new album in his trunk and shrinking both of them. Handing Hermione's to her, she gave a slight smirk and headed out of the room.
He left her aside as he checked out of the hotel, using his Gringott's card to pay for everything. Once that was taken care of he walked with Hermione back behind the hotel, ready to show her his other new gadget. Part of the 16-year-old kid in him was thrilled to death at the prospect of trying out Sirius' old motorbike, though the sight of it still filled him with sadness as far as his godfather was concerned. Once they had reached the back of the hotel he removed the shrunken bike and tapped his wand on it. In mere moments the bike had enlarged to its full-size, and Harry got his first real up close look at it.
The bike appeared to be about 20 or so years old, but it shone as if it were brand new. It was heavily covered with black chrome with orange and grey flame decals added along the sides. Harry paced around the bike a few moments, softly touching it with his hand. Hermione merely stood back and watched the whole display. Harry looked up at her, and got the biggest grin he had on his face on quite a long while.
"So..." he began, the grin not leaving his face, "You ready to go shopping?" Hermione looked at him with her hands firmly placed on her hips, a smirk riding across her face.
"Harry James Potter," she scolded him incredulously, "You don't honestly expect me to ride that...monstrosity?"
"It's not a monstrosity," Harry replied, feigning hurt at the remark. "This...is a work of art." He extended his hands again to present the bike to Hermione, who simply approached it and regarded the look on Harry's face as he made his way around it. It had been months since she had seen the boy she considered to be her best friend this happy. More than a small part of her wanted nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and welcome oblivion, but seeing him like this. Seeing him actually happy, managed to simply shut out the darkness, if even for only a moment. Shaking her head, she grabbed the helmet that Harry offered and slowly lowered it over her head. Straddling the bike she sat behind Harry and firmly grasped his waist after he too mounted the bike.
"Um-Harry," she suddenly asked, "You do know how to ride this thing right?" Harry glanced back at her with an evil glint in his eye as he revved the engine.
"Only one way to find out," he barked, and before she could question him further they were off.
They started off slowly, Harry working out the kinks of learning the bike. The beginner's learning charms worked wonders however, and allowed Harry to get comfortable with the signals and braking of the bike. He noticed that Hermione never really let go of his waist at all, holding a firm grip without breaking it once. Internally, it made Harry blush slightly.
Once they made it out onto the open road, Harry began to push the bike closer and closer to its limits. As they sped up, Harry felt the grin on his face go wider and wider, and at the same time felt the grasp on his waist go tighter and tighter. Harry let out a yell in excitement, ignoring the glares he was likely getting from behind. Eventually as the speed became more constant, he felt the grip lessen, and he smiled as he could instinctively feel Hermione relax.
After about an hour's ride they pulled up to a small town somewhere off the main road. They stopped in a small shopping district, parking the bike further away from the rest of the cars and walking the rest of the way. Hermione didn't say anything for a few seconds, and Harry just kept his head down, a grin still firmly plastered on his face. Finally he spoke up. "So...did you like the ride?" He glanced over and could see the corners of Hermione's mouth twitching just a bit as she fought with her own self-composure.
"Next time," she replied, trying to keep as straight a face as possible, "Try not to scream to much." She offered a smile to him and headed into the shopping mall. Harry simply stalked after her.
Several hours later Harry and Hermione emerged from the mall with several bags in tow. Having shrunken them down to fit into a magically expanded jeans pocket, they walked up to the bike, but instead of grabbing a helmet, Harry tapped the bike twice with his wand, after making sure the coast was clear, and shrunk it down. Hermione looked at him oddly as he placed the bike in his pocket temporarily and flushed around for something.
"Harry, what's going on?" she asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head to the side slightly.
"I'm getting out a portkey. It'll take us to my house...well...one of my houses....anyway..." in truth Harry still wasn't certain how many properties he owned. He'd have to check with Griphook soon. He pulled out the slightly crumpled piece of parchment and held it outward. He motioned for Hermione to take hold of it as he clearly intoned. "Potter Manor, 44 Snidget Lane, Valerian Scotland." After a few seconds he felt the familiar tugging sensation at his navel and was sent spinning. A few moments later he and Hermione landed a bit ungracefully on a small patch off the side of a gravel road. Picking themselves up and dusting themselves off, Harry placed the parchment back in his pocket and pulled out his motorbike. Hermione merely looked around, a bit confused.
"The portkey took us 5 miles away," he explained, unshrinking his bike as he did. Pulling out the helmets, he handed Hermione's hers and placed his on his head. "We just need to go a short ways up the road." Hermione nodded and sat on the bike. Harry smirked a little at how much more eager she seemed to be this go around. Revving the engine again they took off down the road. They passed through a small village that couldn't have been more than a few houses and shops wide and as quickly as they had appeared they were replaced by the wild fields of Scotland.
Harry slowed as he neared a small inlet street marked as Snidget Lane. He turned left, almost instinctively following the road to Potter Manor. After traveling a few hundred yards they came to a stop in front of a large, ornate steel gate. The gate was surrounded by a large limestone fence that seemed to go on for several yards in both directions. Behind the gate was a continuation of the gravel road they had been traveling on. Harry stopped the bike and pushed down the kickstand, taking off his helmet as he did. He slowly walked towards the gate and glanced through the bars. The only thing he could see in the distance was the tree lined road leading up to a circle drive. Off in the corner was a small orchard that seemed to be fairly young as opposed to the rest of the local vegetation. He focused on the address in his mind and saw a building suddenly pop into view.
The manor house was larger than any other house Harry had ever seen. It appeared to have at least four stories to it and nearly spanned across his entire field of vision. At each corner there was an old style parapet making the house look more like a castle than a home. He heard a sudden gasp beside him and saw that Hermione had joined him. They both stood there for a long time, admiring the beauty of the home. Harry's eyes flushed over a bit when he swore he saw a quidditch pitch off to the side near the Orchard. Once they had finished their staring Harry tried to push open the gate and found it firmly locked. He tried a few more times to no avail.
"Well that's odd," he said, a small fraction of his mind suddenly gripped with panic. What good was a house if you were locked out at the front gate. Frowning he looked at the iron doors with a raised eyebrow, when something caught his eye. There was a small hole, near the center of the entrance. Small enough for a key of some kind, or maybe even.
Harry stepped back a few paces and held out his hand. He clenched it into a fist and stuck the Potter ring firmly into the gate hole. There was a short delay, followed by a slight vibration along the iron bars. After this had passed, the latch lifted and the gate swung open. It didn't take but a few seconds for Harry and Hermione to jump back on the bike sans helmets this time and ride the short distance up the road to the house, the gate slamming shut behind them.
As they drew closer to the house they were even more amazed by its beauty. The house was covered on the front by several hedge bushes and ivy was growing up along the reddened brickworks. They stopped at the end of the circle drive, parking the bike right in front of the large mahogany doors that were the centerpiece of a small porch that looked like it had been built on relatively recently compared to the rest of the house. Harry stood up and remained silent, tears slightly forming at the corner's of his eyes. Here at last he had his home.
A pair of small pops in front of the pair brought them back to the here and now. Harry looked down at his newly hired house elves, Dobby and Winky, and saw them smiling equally at him. They had replaced the mismatched clothes they had been wearing before with more well-made clothing, each with the Potter family crest emblazoned on the front. Harry smiled back, and he hoped that Dobby had been up to the task he had given to him the night before when Hermione had been asleep. Hermione simply looked down and stared at them wondering.
"Dobby," she asked, a frown suddenly appearing on her face, "and Winky? What are you two doing here away from Hogwarts?" Before Harry could interject or explain, Dobby decided to answer for him.
"Dobby and Winky is bonded to Master Harry Potter Miss Hermy," Dobby said innocently enough. Hermione got a disappointed look on her face, and glanced up at Harry, her looks demanding an answer.
Raising his hands in his defense, Harry managed to blurt out, "House Elves have to be bonded to a witch or wizard in order to stay alive. They're free elves not slaves...and I--I'll pay them whatever they want!" Harry backed away a little bit. As powerful as he might be magically, he didn't want to face down Hermione Granger in full blown S.P.E.W. mode. Her faced softened somewhat however at the explanation and she simply nodded her head. She motioned for him to open the door, and Harry stepped forward and did as he was told.
And their breath was instantly knocked out of them.
The doors opened to a large entryway that filled nearly two floors. A large winding staircase descending from both ends and covered in velvet carpet wrapped around the entryway. As they slowly sauntered into the main entry hall, their feet cautiously moving across the tiled marble floors, they gaped in awe at the twin crystal chandeliers hanging above either end of the staircase.
"Incredible," Harry whispered to himself. This was more than he could have hope for in his wildest dreams. He kept a wide eyed look plastered on his face as he took in the gigantic room, taking in every inch of it. It was several seconds before he felt himself being rushed along by Dobby for the tour of the remainder of the house.
It took them several hours to tour the whole house, sans the basement level which Harry promised himself he'd explore later. The first floor contained the entryway, a formal sitting room and living area, an elegant dining room, and a smaller parlor with a breakfast table off the rather large kitchen. It also contained an ornate ball room that caused Harry to internally blush as he remembered the disaster that had been the Yule Ball, save for one special moment. Next to the ballroom was the room that caused Hermione's eyes to light up like candles on Christmas eve.
They exited the ballroom and entered a massive library that spanned two floors. There were several tables and chairs for studying on the first floor, and the bookshelves that lined the wall stretched all the way to the second floor. Straight above the middle of the room was a wooden scaffold suspended by what appeared to be magical chains, no doubt another sitting area for reading and research. He practically could hear Hermione's mind racing, formulating reading schedules and the like for her and him. Quickly he grabbed her arm and led her up to the second floor, promising to visit later. She pouted slightly, but allowed Harry to see the rest of the house.
The second floor had a few bathrooms and guest rooms in it and a rather large lounge with picture view windows overlooking the Quidditch pitch in the distance, but not much else. The third floor contained all bedrooms, including the master bedroom that Harry would check out for himself later. He also skipped one other room on purpose till after they had finished the tour. The 4th floor was completely different from the layout of the rest of the castle. As opposed to the elegant hardwoods and marble floors this was cut out of the brick and mortar that made up the outside of the house. There wasn't much up there anyway, other than archival room with several scrolls that Harry made a note to go through, another two guest rooms and several storage areas that could be converted into whatever might be necessary at the time. Satisfied with the tour, Harry and Hermione made their way down to the third floor again, stopping at the door that Harry had skipped over previously.
"What's so special about this room Harry," Hermione asked, stopping in front of the door rather impatiently. Harry simply got a big grin on his face and opened the door. When Hermione looked in her jaw had dropped.
Her room had been set up much like the one in her own home had been, but with a few changes of course. There was no computer on the desk, instead replaced with a quill and several rolls of parchment. Her bed was covered in the same quilts and sheets, though they were magically expanded to cover the much larger bed. Other than that much of its original feel had been retained. Harry smiled and nodded to Dobby, who just held his hands together and offered the closest equivalent to a blush a house elf could give. Harry then turned to Hermione, and noticed the glassy look and shimmering circles forming in the corners of her eyes. He moved towards her, concerned that he might have overdone it, that maybe this was bringing too much back to her too fast. "'Mione," he asked, a bit nervously.
He was nearly knocked over by the desperate embrace that came over him seconds later. He stood there stunned for a fraction of a second before he returned the embrace, offering a soothing whisper to Hermione who seemed to be on the precipice of falling into the depression that had gripped her last night. They stayed that way a few moments longer, before a sigh clued Harry in to Hermione's more stable demeanor. He slowly backed away, and she just nodded to herself. She then gazed up at Harry, her brown eyes never wavering from his face. "Harry, this---this is too much. You didn...didn't have to..." she trailed off again, her eyes still a bit soggy from the previous episode. Harry felt a strong protective urge building up inside of his gut as he stood there. He held firm and waited for Hermione to look up at him.
"I know," he replied, "I wanted to."