Testing Defenses
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
Chapter 4: Fleur's Visit
Katie's tender voice and warm breath woke Harry in the gray predawn of the following day.
"Hey Harry," she whispered in his ear, "I need to fly."
The young wizard's response was to hold her hand closer to him. Until, that is, his mind cleared enough to realize that their hands were buried in his crotch. And of course, his morning condition was in full form, such that he was poking the inside of Katie's left wrist.
In full panic mode, Harry ripped the hand away from his body and rolled off the bed. The back of his head hit the floor with a thud.
"Ouch!" he muttered.
A bemused young witch leaned over the bedside, letting her tussled dark brown locks spill over most of her face.
"Good morning to you, too, Harry," said a giggling Katie.
Realizing that his morning reaction was now less than a foot away from the young witch's face, Harry quickly dropped his hands down and turned away.
"Erm, sorry…it isn't what you think."
His Quidditch captain smiled. "Oh, so that's your wand in your pajama pocket?"
"No, I mean it's not because of you, it's because…not to say that you aren't attractive…"
Katie reached out and touched Harry's shoulder. "Relax, Harry, between my older brothers and dorm mates that love to kiss and tell I know all about your not-so-little problem…Alicia calls them 'morning glories'."
"Morning glories?" asked Harry. "That's a new one for me."
"Yes, well you have lived a rather sheltered life, I'm afraid….something that we're trying to remedy as quickly as possible."
Harry smiled, in spite of his embarrassment. "I do seem to be making up for lost time, don't I?"
Katie nodded. "I can wait a tinkle to tinkle, since you clearly have more urgent, erm…needs."
Considering his options, Harry replied. "No, you go ahead, else I embarrass myself any more."
"Really?" asked Katie. When Harry nodded, she shrugged her shoulders, swung her legs around and stood. But rather than sidestep Harry's body, she stepped one leg over him so that she was straddling his torso.
"You know what, Harry?"
Harry turned his face up towards Katie, only to catch an upskirt eyeful of blue and white wide-striped knickers stretched tightly against her fanny. He turned back away and lamented, "You are trying to kill me, you know."
"Why?" asked Katie. "As far as peeping goes you still have some catching up to do."
Harry snorted, but didn't resist when Katie reached out and pulled his view back towards her face. She promptly squatted down and sat on Harry, pinning him with her bare thighs.
Placing an index finger firmly down on his chest, Katie said, "You do realize, Harry Potter, that you are going to break a lot of witches' hearts when you go off the market."
"Yeah, right."
"And a few wizards' too."
Harry groaned. "Just my luck…although maybe I should be worried about having a naked dream that included Oliver."
Katie laughed, in a full throat hearty way that made her bum bounce very nicely up and down on Harry's chest.
"Worried that you might fancy boys instead of girls?"
"No, it's just that…"
"You know, there's one surefire way of finding that sort of thing out."
"There is?" asked Harry. "What…is it some kind of revealing charm?"
Katie only giggled as she pushed up off Harry's chest ducked inside the tent. "Morgana, help me!" she muttered along the way.
When she returned, Harry was sitting up with his back against the bed and a blanket covering his lap. Spying her jeans where she'd dropped them on the floor, she turned away from Harry and bent down to retrieve them. Her bum wiggled rather provocatively as she slipped a trouser leg over each foot.
"Katie?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Didn't you tell me last night that you swore on your magic that you didn't fancy me?"
"Uh, huh."
"Well, not that I want to risk you losing your magic, but…you don't get dressed this way in front of other guys, do you?"
Katie smiled. "You know, Harry, I was thinking about this topic just before I woke you up."
"You were? Did you reach any conclusions?"
"Yes, I did," she replied, as she pulled her jeans up over her bum. "I realized that there's a difference between making a magical oath and making a magical vow."
"How so?"
"I made an oath that I didn't fancy you as boyfriend or shagging material last week," Katie explained. She turned towards Harry, pulled up her zipper, and added, "Since I didn't lose my magic when I swore the oath, it obviously was true at the time."
"I sense a 'but' coming up."
Nodding in agreement, Katie said, "But…I didn't make a magical vow that I would never fancy you, or change my mind about wanting to shag you senseless."
"Erm…shagging…future?"
"Yes, the future," Katie replied. "And since that was last week, and now is now….now is the future."
"It is?" Harry stammered.
Katie just grinned as she reached back onto the desktop, retrieved her wand, and banished Harry's jersey towards his dresser. He sat there gobsmacked, staring at Katie's bare, pink-nippled breasts.
"See Harry?" she said matter-of-factly, as if taking no notice of his gaze. "I still have my magic."
"You certainly do," Harry whispered, before realizing what he was doing and brought his eyes up to hers. "Erm, sorry."
"No worries," she replied, making no effort to cover herself as she bent over to pick up her t-shirt.
"They're beautiful, erm, I mean…you're beautiful, you know."
"Why thank you for noticing, Harry," Katie replied sweetly. She then added, "I better go, before…"
Harry nodded as he stood up and wrapped the blanked around his waist. "Yeah, before we…well, it's best to be back on the ground before sunrise, right?"
Katie slowly nodded, as she reached down to slip on her low heel boots. She then grabbed her bag. "Oh, I almost forgot," she said, as she retrieved another letter. "Hermione instructed me to give this letter to you just before I left."
Katie held the letter out to Harry, but drew it back as he reached for it, forcing him to draw close to her.
"Hand delivery costs you a kiss," she said with a gleam in her eye.
Harry chuckled as he leaned forward, grabbed the letter, and brushed his lips against Katie's. It was chaste, but sweet and not soggy. He then stepped back, ordered Katie's broom to hover, and drew it between them. Katie grinned as she lifted a leg over the broomstick and mounted.
"Do you have a long flight?" asked Harry.
Katie gaze went from Harry, then towards the bed, then back to Harry. She squeezed the wooden broomstick tightly between her thighs, and ran a hand up and down the smooth knob.
"Not long enough."
Harry gulped, then turned away in embarrassment. He found his invisibility cloak and wrapped it around Katie's shoulders.
"I'll be seeing you, Katie," he said, giving her arm a tight squeeze.
"I certainly hope so," she replied. "And if you have any problems finding that peep hole, just let me know…I can always poke a finger, or tongue, or something…else…thru to point you in the right direction."
Harry shook his head in disbelief, quite glad that he had still had a full bladder to blame for the tent in his pajama bottoms.
Deciding that flirting could go both ways, he reached out and pulled the hood over Katie's head, spread the back of the cloak out to cover the brush of the broom, then gave her invisible bum a slap.
"Go, before I offer you something else to squeeze between your thighs."
He couldn't see the wide smile on Katie's face, but he could hear it in her voice when she replied, "Promises, Promises, Potter." And with a gust of air, she flew out the opened bedroom window and into the early dawn.
Harry stood and stared out the window, playing the banter back in his head until his bladder caught his attention. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind, and then ran into the Port-a-loo to address what turned out to be more than one physiological need.
When he left the tent, he looked at the clock and decided that he really needed some more sleep. He checked the muggle-repelling Post-it on the outside of his bedroom door, then grabbed his discarded Quidditch jersey and blanket and stretched out in bed. He fell asleep with the jersey held tightly to his chest like a plushie, and with dreams whose intensity hadn't been dampened by those furtive seconds of alone time inside the tent.
Harry woke for a second time that morning after three refreshing hours of sleep. While checking the time on his alarm clock, he spied the "delivered for a kiss" letter sent by Hermione and immediately felt guilty… for not having read it sooner, for again forgetting to write back to Hermione, for doing…whatever it was that he was doing…with Katie. He got out of bed and ripped opened the envelope:
oo00OO00oo
Dear Harry,
I asked Katie to deliver this second letter separately for fear that its contents would anger you enough to ruin your sleep and her visit. I'm sorry if you consider this to be another case of withholding information, but it might be beside the point.
This morning a registered mail owl appeared at my house with a notification from Gringott's that Sirius's will is to be read tomorrow at 11:00am at their Diagon Alley main branch (that should be today, your time, if Katie gave you this letter before she left). I was invited to the reading because I am listed as a beneficiary. You are too, of course, along with several others (Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, Bellatrix Black, the Weasley family, Tonks and her parents, and Remus, to be exact…the notice provided a full beneficiary listing).
You should have been sent your own notice and invitation, but with Dumbledore's mail intercepts there's no guarantee that you received it, or that if he did intercept the letter that he past the notice along to you.
I'm guessing that the Headmaster will insist that you remain on Privet Drive for your safety. I'm sure you're upset about this, but I have to admit that he might have a point…if all of the other notices included the full beneficiary list, then Bellatrix (and Voldemort) know where you might be at a specific place and time, and plan an attack accordingly.
Please, Harry…don't do anything rash. If you need to talk with me, perhaps Katie has a way to bring you to my house? If not, then I plan on taking detailed notes, and will send copies along as soon as I can. I'll also do my best to make sure that no decisions are made or actions taken on your behalf before you have the opportunity to be made aware of the situation. And if Dumbledore dares to show up saying that he represents your best interests, well…he is going to get an earful from me.
Love,
Hermione
oo00OO00oo
Harry read the letter, first with disbelief, then with certain knowledge that the Old Man had done exactly what Hermione had feared. He looked at the alarm clock…it was 10:45am. There was just enough time to hail the Knight Bus and…and get spun around by his minders and sent back inside the house. Looking at the list, Harry had a fair guess who might be outside right then.
Upon second reading of the letter, Harry internalized most of his anger. Hermione hadn't told him that she agreed with Dumblefore…just that he might have a point. And she suggested that he visit her, at her house, beforehand…which he easily could have done riding double on Katie's broom and under his cloak. Had he bothered to actually read the letter when Katie gave it to him. But no, he had thrown it carelessly onto his desk, his mind too addled by hormones and knickers and kisses to focus on what really mattered.
And what really mattered was his safety and Hermione. Not necessarily in that order.
Harry lashed out and kicked the desk, only to painfully stub his toe. He needed to write some letters. A letter to Hermione, a letter to Gringott's, a letter to Dumbledore…but first he needed some tea, and the chance to vent at whoever was minding him that morning.
Not wanting to deal with his Aunt and Uncle right then, Harry stuck Post-its on both the front and back of his t-shirt and strode down the stairs. His relatives decided that they had things to do and other places to be when he entered the kitchen. He quietly allowed them clear out, then took his teacup outside and sat on the front step.
"Do I need to start tossing scalding hot liquids around the yard, or is someone going to show themself and start talking?" he clearly stated, to what appeared to be nobody in particular. Harry caught sight of a shimmer of air in the corner of his eye as Moody emerged from behind a hedge.
"Ah, Mad-Eye…so who failed last night's test?"
The retired Auror snorted. "Dedalus Dingle," he replied.
Harry shook his head. "The soliciter?" he asked. "You weren't kidding about weeding out the lower divisions, were you?"
Ignoring Harry's comeback, Mad-Eye said, "Did you come out to do something other than gloat?"
Harry noticed one of the neighbors walking their dog down the street.
"Inside," he commanded. "This might get loud."
The retired Auror simply nodded, and followed Harry inside to the sitting room.
"Care to explain this?" Harry asked, as he shoved Hermione's letter towards Mad-Eye.
The retired Auror's magical eye quickly skimmed over the text.
"Sounds like Granger has the jist of it."
"Is that all?" Harry yelled.
Mad-Eye grinned. "That, and that you were too busy entertaining Bell this morning to take up Granger on her offer." To emphasize the point he reached into his cloak and added, "Need another half-dozen, or did she wear you out before then?"
Harry scowled, knowing that Mad-eye was only trying to get his goat.
"I suppose you were around to count passengers when the broom flew out my window this morning?"
"Wouldn't have mattered if I was or wasn't, would it?" Mad-Eye retorted. "But to answer your question, yes I was here and ready to stun you if you tried to leave the house."
"But why?"
"Your girlfriend told you why, Potter," Moody snapped back. "You can't portkey into Gringott's so we'd have to get you there by some other means. And regardless how we did it, there'd be a point where you'd be exposed to an attack."
"But I could always have hidden under my invisibility cloak."
"What invisibility cloak?"
"Oh, come on, Mad-Eye, you know perfectly well…."
"And you know perfectly well that I've spotted you before when you've worn it. Don't think that you've got some super-Invisiblity cloak that keeps you perfectly concealed." The retired Auror then added, "But what do I know, why don't you fetch your cloak and we'll see if you're right."
"That's fine with me," Harry replied testily. He took two steps towards the stairs then realized that he had given his cloak to Katie that morning. He turned back around and found an even wider grin on Mad-Eye's face than he had expected.
"Missing something, Potter?"
Harry shook his head and plopped his body down onto the couch. "Hermione once told me about pyrrhic victories…you probably know what they are, right Mad-Eye?" He then muttered, "I'm sure Dumbledore does as well…the old man's ancient enough to have fought alongside Pyrrus."
Mad-Eye laughed at Harry's comment, and then said, "Yes, I know what they are, Potter, and I know what you're getting at." He paused, and then stated, "But I also know that moping about something that you can't do anything about is a waste of time…time better spent in training."
"Training?" asked Harry. "What in Merlin's name do you mean, Mad-Eye?"
"I mean practicing spells that knock down Death Eater's with no chance for them to get up."
"Practicing spells? Today? Here?" asked Harry. "And how do you propose I get around Madame Hopkirk's sensors?"
The retired Auror looked at Harry and scowled. "So Granger does do all of your thinking…tell me Potter, does she also cut your meat and hold your John Thompson when you piss?"
Harry looked sharply in response, but having listened to the rejoinder well enough to consider what Mad-Eye said, took pause before firing back.
"I haven't used my wand since I've returned to Privet Drive, but…"
"You're talking about your wooden one, right?"
"Both, actually," said Harry. "But…there has been magical spells cast on the property, hasn't there?" he asked. "You've cast Finite spells to cancel your disillusionments, and you cast a ward on the cupboard door, and…"
"And Katie Bell flashed her underaged titties at you when she banished her shirt."
"Erm, yes…that too," Harry admitted sheepishly, wondering just how penetrating Mad-Eye's eyesight could be. "And if past history held true, all of those should have resulted in accusations of my underage magic use, because the Ministry monitors locations, and not any one specific wand."
Mad-Eye smiled. "And so…"
"And so," Harry concluded, "the Ministry must know that I'm not the only magic user on Privet Drive….they know that somebody is guarding the house that's of age, so…they make the same assumptions that they make about underage magic use in pureblood homes."
The retired Auror nodded. "So maybe the Granger girl does allow you to think once in a while," he concluded. "Don't bother telling me if she allows you to hold yourself, too…you don't want to know what I already know based on what I've already seen."
While Harry was figuring out what an appropriate response would be to that comment, Mad-Eye fished some parchment from his pocket and held it out for Harry's inspection.
"Official notice to Hopkirk that there will be adult magic users on this property over the summer, and that I will, on occasion be acting as your tutor," Mad-Eye explained. "Second page is a provisional permit for underage magic use within the property boundaries based on that student-tutor relationship. Both signed by Amelia Bones herself."
Harry looked at the two documents with wide eyes and disbelief. He compartmentalized many different questions that they raised, and voiced only the most important one, based on present circumstances.
"Does Dumbledore know?"
Mad-Eye chuckled. "If I don't answer, then there won't be an answer floating around in your head for Dumbledore to pick out, now, will there?"
Harry nodded, realizing that he needed to work on his occlumancy with somebody other than Snape that summer.
"Will Dumbledore be able to tell even if he didn't know?"
The retired Auror smiled. "Let's just say that I'll keep quiet, and that the Headmaster will be spending most of the summer trying to repair his office…as well as the silvery gizmos that may or may not have included his own magical use detectors focused on this address."
When Harry understood what Mad-Eye was saying, he grinned broadly at the irony.
"So," he said, "My cousin had the basement set up as a training area for his boxing, but it doesn't look like he'll be needing it any time soon."
"You don't say?"
"Actually, I do say," Harry replied brightly. "We'd just have to drag all of his junk upstairs and clear out the space…"
"Or, as an alternative…use Reductos to vaporize that junk," Moody offered. "But only if you felt a need to vent your frustrations by blasting a few things."
Harry paused, then drew his wand and spun on his heels.
"Let's get started."
oo00OO00oo
Harry's full day of training left him too sore and tired to wait up for potential visitors. It also delivered him into a deep state of sleep…deep enough that he didn't wake when a young witch entered his room and shook his shoulder.
When Harry unconsciously shied away from the young witch's touch, she realized that she'd unknowingly grabbed a bit of bruised skin. She quickly released his shoulder, carefully pulled back the blanket, and quietly gasped at the sight of all of the bumps and bruises that were exposed on Harry's bare chest (he'd been too sore earlier in the evening to pull a night shirt over his head). Deciding that he was in desperate need of medicinal care, the witch rummaged inside her bag for a jar of bruise-healing salve. Once she found it, she used her wand and a voiceless spell to banish Harry's pajama bottoms, leaving him clad only in boxer shorts.
"Quelle domage," the young witch thought to herself, as she noticed that Harry's boxers partially covered an ugly purple bruise on his inner thigh. With a commitment to thorough treatment and a smirk on her lips, she banished that last bit of the young wizard's clothing, and got to work lightly rubbing the salve all over Harry's body with her fingertips. And her hands.
Once or twice she may have used other body parts too.
While Harry never woke during the young witch's course of treatment, he did manage to sport an unconscious smile and groaned in approval as the salve worked its magic. The young witch wasn't certain, but thought that his smile lessened in intensity when she finished and dressed him in a new pair of silk briefs that she just happened to have brought along. Concerned of possible treatment complications, the witch decided to closely monitor her patient's condition for the balance of the night.
Her monitoring station was located in Harry's bed, and by his side.
Her nurse's uniform was a sheer silk nightgown.
Pleased to see the smile restored to her patient's face, the young witch spooned against his back and pulled the covers up over their bodies. Amazingly enough, her dream therapy treatments didn't lose any of their effectiveness when she herself dozed off.
Two hours later, Harry Potter was woken by a frantic shake of his shoulder.
"'Arry, you must wake up," a young witch whispered fiercely. "I heard the crack of an appartition."
Harry's eyes opened quickly.
"Fleur?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Testing ze defense," she quietly replied. "And perhaps, adding to 'em,"
Harry nodded, his thoughts racing back and forth between threat assessments and wonder over why his body no longer felt sore.
"You say you heard one crack?"
"Yes."
"It might just be a change in Order guards," Harry concluded.
The clear sound of three or four more apparition cracks quickly disabused him of that thought.
"Right then," he said, as he rolled out of bed and stood. As Fleur did the same, Harry spotted her sheer negligee and what the garment didn't conceal just below her waist. Some of his wits went south, riding on the back of his blood flow.
"Oops, sorry 'Arry, I did not mean to distract you," Fleur said, not voicing the caveat "at least not when we are under attack." She grabbed her wand, and transfigured her nightgown into a black combat uniform. She then looked at Harry's silk boxers and banished them.
"You need ze same outfit, I think," she stated in explanation, as a second uniform rose from her bag and drifted towards Harry.
The young wizard glanced down at his naked body, and thanked Merlin that the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins kept him from fully revealing his response to Fleur's negligee…and what had been so clearly visible underneath.
"You know you could have just transfigured my boxers too," he noted.
Fleur gave Harry a wicked smile. "Forgive me 'Arry, but I like to practice a variety of spells."
Harry was too focused to continue the banter, and pushed away all thoughts of how and when Fleur had joined him in bed as he quickly donned the black trousers (going commando seemed appropriate for the occasion). A black jumper followed, then and a black balcava that covered most of his head. Figuring there was no time to lace up the black leather boots, he grabbed his wand and dashed barefoot over to Fleur's new position, crouched low in front of one of the windows,
There was another loud crack, which to Harry sounded sounded like something other than an apparition.
"Was that the same sound that you first heard?" he whispered.
Fleur nodded.
"That was the Knight Bus, then" Harry stated. "Both coming and, now, going."
"But who did it drop off, and what of ze other cracks?" Fleur asked.
Harry fingered his wand and shook his head. Realizing that his newly expanded bedroom now offered a clear view of the street down both directions, he told Fleur to stay put as he crept to a separate vantage point.
A few moments later, Harry heard Fleur whisper, "Merde! I can't believe that she had it in 'er."
"Who?"
"Ginny," Fleur whispered back. "She's walking alone up ze street, maybe three houses away."
Harry swore in his own native tongue as he crept back to Fleur and confirmed her spot. Sure enough, Ginny Weasley was quietly walking up the streetlamp-lit street wearing a dark cloak whose hood was, for some unknown reasoned, pulled back.
"Did Hermione send you tonight, Fleur?"
"She knew 'zat I was coming."
"Did she send Ginny as well?"
"No, I am quite certain 'zat she is on her own."
Harry paused, then said, "Okay, then, let's wait and see how this plays out."
"Plays out, 'Arry?"
"Ssshh, just wait," Harry replied.
The two watched as Ginny reached the front of the driveway, when out of the blue a streak of red light shot towards her from the front of the house. Ginny ducked behind a parked car, pulled her wand and returned fire. As spells were exchanged she managed to hold her own from her defensive position, until an overpowered Expelliarmus struck Ginny and threw her ten feet into the air and twenty feet down the street. The disarming spell was immediately followed by a sickly-green colored curse that struck Ginny's prone (and defenseless) body.
"No!" a voice screamed out. And very quickly four high-powered red stunners flew towards the source of the green spell. Only three were avoided, as the fourth struck true.
"Merde!" Fleur exclaimed.
"Shit!" Harry hissed.
"'Ez what I zaid," noted Fleur.
Harry pulled the tight black hood from his head just so he could run his fingers through his hair with worry.
"This is going to be a huge mess," he decided. He turned to Fleur and asked, "Can you leave quickly and quietly?"
Fleur nodded. "I used a goblin-fashioned two-way portkey."
"Then use it and leave…nothing good will come from them discovering you here."
"Are you 'zertain?"
"Yes."
Fleur nodded, even as she pouted. "But I wanted my fair share of 'ze touching, and 'ze teasing, and 'ze dream catching."
"Have to give you a rain check," Harry replied.
Fleur's pout grew. "Does 'zis rain check come with a….how do you say it…down payment?"
Harry rolled his eyes, leaned forward, and kissed the French witch hard on the lips.
"There, a downpayment…now go!"
"Fine," Fleur replied. "But don't think I will wait for ze rain to fall before I return to claim ze rest!" She stood, kissed Harry again (twice, once on each cheek), then used her wand to activate her portkey.
Harry waited for a beat as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley voices carried up and in through his opened bedroom window. When Uncle Vernon's voice joined the cacophony, Harry knew there was little time to spare. He stood , turned on his bedside light, and quickly scanned the room. Harry first spied an opened jar of healing salve on the desk, which explained why and how his bruises had disappeared. He dumped the jar into his trunk, along with the Port-a-loo, the chamber pot, his Firebolt, the sheets, and a thick stack of books and other documents that Fleur must have left behind.
He locked his trunk just as somebody banged on his bedroom door.
"Harry Potter, you get out here right now!" screamed Molly Weasley.
Harry calmly walked up to the door and asked, "Hello? Is somebody there?"
"You know there most certainly is young man. Get out here right now!"
Harry kneeled down in front of the door and pushed hard on the cat-flap, catching Molly in the shins.
"Ouch!"
"Sorry," Harry called out through the opening, "My Aunt and Uncle lock me in each night, and the locks are on your side of the door."
"Well, of all the things," Molly fumed. The irate witch stared at the series of brass door locks, completely baffled at how they might work. Of course her muggle-loving husband would know, but he'd already left, taking their injured daughter to St. Mungo's. It wasn't until Harry's Uncle stormed back up the stairs to pummel his nephew that the locks (and Harry) were released.
It took Mad-Eye Moody's arrival and some well-placed memory charms, sleeping draughts and Reparo's to calm the immediate situation down. But not before Severus Snape's stunned body was kicked a few times, and a few punches were thrown towards Harry's face by Bill and Charlie Weasley. And of course there was Molly, sternly lecturing Harry and wildly accusing him of enticing Ginny to warm Harry's bed "just like those other scarlet women."
It wasn't until an hour or so later, after two or three calming draughts were downed, and after Arthur Weasley's return from the hospital with Ginny's confession (word that she'd recover from Snape's green curse), that the truth (sort of) came out.
The entire Weasley family had attended Sirius Black's will reading earlier that day, and had been within earshot when Hermione Granger had confronted Dumbledore with the latest ward breach on Privet Drive. That had led to most of the story coming out about the previous visits, and caused great distress to the entire family (except for Fred and George, who were delighted that their business partner was enjoying such a smashing summer). Arthur, Bill and Charlie (home via international portkey for the reading) were worried about Harry's safety (and their own, as they took their own turns keeping watch on Privet Drive). Molly, Ron and Ginny, on the other hand, were more worried over the fact that Hermione had apparently spent the night in Harry's bedroom (for all of the predictable reasons involving big happy families and presumptive relationships).
Dumbledore, convinced that Ginny would no doubt want to assume her self-proclaimed rightful place under Harry Potter's sheets, quietly offered to place a perimeter ward on the Burrow that would immediately notify Mr. and Mrs. Weasley whenever Ginny left the property (his idea was that it was easier to prove that the wards on Privet Drive were safe by preventing them from being tested in the first place). Ginny followed true to form and, after waiting well past midnight, crept out of the house and just far enough beyond the wards to summon the Knight Bus. She was easily able to request transit to Privet Drive, having memorized the street address a few years back (when her mum had sent Harry a stamp-strewn letter via muggle post). The bus left just as her parents ran out to try and stop her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley then woke Bill and Charlie, and the four apparated just outside of the wards surrounding Number Four. They arrived on the scene a few moments before Snape (who was on guard duty that night) hit Ginny with the disarming spell and borderline Dark curse.
Harry, for his part, claimed truthful ignorance of Ginny's plans and motivations, and had Moody as back-up to document his whereabouts over not only that day, but the past few days. As for Hermione, Luna and Katie…Harry split his time between defending their motivations and virtues, and expressing his disappointment that the Weasleys would make such hurtful and wild accusations. His only positive thought during this point of the conversation was that Ron was still sleeping soundly back at the Burrow. While Harry could guess what Ron might think of the situation, at least he didn't have to hear his mate voice those opinions first hand.
The group parted ways on tense terms, and only because dawn was arriving and Molly was eager to visit Ginny at St. Mungo's. Snape's rope-bound and stunned body was kicked a few more times by the Weasley men (Harry joined them in the spirit of reconciliation), before Mad-Eye hauled the "former" Death-Eater away to Hogwarts for his enervation and (no doubt whiney) exoneration. Kingsley Shaklebolt was summoned to take Snape's place on guard duty, and Harry returned to his room with word that his Aunt and Uncle would not wake from their potion-induced sleep for several more hours.
Dumbledore, amazingly enough (or maybe not so much anymore in Harry's eyes), stayed away from the scene, and allowed others to do his bidding in his stead. Harry figured that it had a lot to do with the Headmaster's reluctance to give Harry a face-to-face opportunity to rant.
Once alone in his room, Harry opened his trunk, repitched the Port-a-loo, and refitted the magical silk sheets that he had quickly come to love. He then took note of the half-dozen ledgers that Fleur had left. The books were tied together with string, with several letters tucked on top of the stack underneath the knot. The first two letters were labeled "Read Me First" and "Harry Potter," the latter being written in Hermione's neat and compact script.
Harry decided to defer to caution and open the letter addressed with the warning first. It was from the Gringott's goblins, expressing their disappointment that Harry did not respond to their invitation to attend the will reading. It then quickly morphed into a rant against Albus Dumbledore and his manipulative attempts to keep Gringott's from corresponding with one of their most valued clients. It closed with a summary of the ledgers and other letters, and stated that Fleur Delacour was a Gringott's employee who had been tasked with ensuring that the ledgers were delivered to Harry "as expeditiously as possible," and to provide "the type of customer service that you so richly deserve."
Harry smiled as he thought of Fleur's work clothes, and her methods of providing customer service. He hadn't failed to notice that all of his bruises had been tended to while he had been sleeping, or that he woke wearing different (and much nicer) boxer shorts than what he had fallen asleep in.
Hermione's letter was brief, and apparently written rather hastily:
Oo00OO00oo
Dear Harry,
I am at Gringott's having a hard time with Dumbledore and the Weasley family. Fleur Delacour now works for the goblins, and tells me that she will be visiting you to deliver your financial documents tonight. I'm sure she will provide you with excellent customer service.
Hermione
P.S. Dumbledore's excuse was that Katie was delivering McGonagall's letter, which was official Hogwarts correspondence.
Oo00OO00oo
Harry furrowed his eyebrows at the tone of Hermione's note. She seemed angry at him for some reason, although it could have easily been attributed to the stressful situation that it was written in.
Bypassing the few other letters in the stack, Harry took hold of the first ledger, which the goblin's letter had said Harry should have been given at the very start of the will reading. He opened the front cover and found a handwritten note:
Oo00OO00oo
Harry,
So you are at my will reading, huh? Bummer. Chin up, pup, I'm in a better place, and regret only that I didn't get to spend more time with you. Blame Dumbledore…I know that I do.
My will is sure to cause some melodramatic scenes and long-winded expressions of outrage from some of the people in the room with you right now. It will also cause some snoring...it will take over an hour to cover all of the mumble-jumbled legalities before we get to the good parts (Blame Dingle…I know that I do). So to keep your mind sharp and spirits from drifting too low, I've instructed the goblins to give you this book at the start of the meeting. Enjoy, but not too much.
Don't worry, the book is spelled so that only you can see anything other than blank pages.
Love, Padfoot
oo00OO00oo
Harry sniffed, and used the sleeve of his jumper to wipe two damp eyes as he smiled at Sirius's note. Taking a calculated risk that any prank sprung on the ensuing pages wouldn't be too disabling, he took a deep breath and turned the page.
It folded out to reveal a vintage Playwizard centerfold.
Harry laughed out loud as he studied the page for a few seconds, then folded it back in and flipped to the next page.
It was another centerfold, dated one month after the first.
As Harry turned page after page, he quickly realized that Sirius had found a way to magically bind his complete collection of magical pornography into a two-inch thick book. Every time he skipped over to the last page, another two-inch thick pile of porn magically appeared behind it.
After the first hundred or so animated centerfolds, Harry's mind started to drift, and he imagined what he might have done if he had first seen these pages within Gringott's.
His first thought was that Hermione would probably have been sitting right next to him, wondering why he was getting an erection whist staring at blank pages.
His second thought was that it would have been that much worse if instead of Hermione it had been Mrs. Weasley.
His third thought was that it would have been wonderful if one of the naked witches sprawled out over the pages had been Hermione.
There was no fourth thought that placed Mrs. Weasley under similar circumstance.
Promising himself to lift a glass of firewhiskey in Sirius's name at first opportunity, Harry climbed back into his bed for a kip, clutching Sirius' gift wrapped inside his Quidditch Jersey. It might not have been as plush as a stuffed animal, but it certainly ensured some sweet dreams.