Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 8

"Hurry up! We're going to be late!" James shouted down the hall towards his son's room. The Yule Ball was to commence in an hour. As a champion, even an irregular one at that, Harry was required to be present to open the ball.

"Coming, coming," Harry muttered as he trotted out of his room before hurrying up to his Dad.

James straightened Harry's tie before brushing a small bit of dust from Harry's shoulder. "Let's get to the Entry Hall. Dumbledore's sent a portkey."

"Thank God, no Floo," Harry groaned. After a moment, he asked James, "Do you trust Dumbledore?"

"Not with your life. But the portkey should be fine."

"If it isn't?"

With a feral expression, James replied, "Then we kill everyone at our hijacked destination."

Considering that Hermione would be accompanying them, Harry nodded decisively in agreement.

Harry had been undergoing an intensive regimen of healing and nutrition potions since his parents' return to real time. As they passed the floor to ceiling mirror in the hallway, James reflected that they looked more like brothers than father and son. After a momentary pang of guilt at what had been lost, Prongs shook it off as irrelevant.

Swinging into the entry hall, James was taken aback. Lily was a vision. Her hair piled up on her head in a stylish hairdo, she was wearing a dark green silk creation that left James gaping. The copious emeralds that adorned her neck highlighted her eyes. Out of the corner of his field of view, he noted that Hermione was well dressed as well, but Lily…ravishing, gorgeous, radiant and beautiful all fell far short.

Taking her in his arms, he tilted her smiling face up to his own. Softly kissing her, he murmured, "I love you."

"Love you, too, loverboy. Let's go."

Turning to his son, he saw what his subconscious had noted. Hermione was gorgeous, as well. Her dress was a deep red - borderline scarlet - and around her neck was the famous Black Diamonds.

An even one hundred carats of perfect diamonds in exquisite platinum and mithril glittered and sparkled. The teardrop earrings alone were fifteen carats each. The tiara worn only by the Lady of the House of Blackmoor sat elegantly in her sculpted hair. Sirius had mentioned that he was going to Gringotts for Hermione, but James didn't realize he was fetching The Diamonds.

Harry was speechless.

Hermione smiled. "Let's go," she urged Harry in a whisper.

James smiled widely when Harry silently approached his Intended, swept her into his arms before passionately kissing her.

"Ahem," Lily teased. When that had no effect on the osculating couple, the newly arrived Sirius fired a quick Stinging hex into his godson's backside.

"Ow!" Harry exclaimed as he rubbed his arse.

"Come on," urged Lily. "We've to hurry."

A quick portkey ride brought them to an anteroom of the castle. After a quick rearranging of Harry's jacket, they opened the door to the entry hall of the castle, outside the Great Hall.

James looked around seeing more adults than teenagers. Those over the age of majority were slowly working though the crowds toward the Great Hall where Minerva was allowing them admittance to the room.

Turning to Harry, James told him, "Look, we're to go in early with all the Ministry types. We'll see you inside, right?"

Harry had his arm about Hermione's waist as he nodded and replied, "Right. See you inside."

James and Sirius led the way through the mass of humanity, shifting a path, which Lily followed. At the door, Sirius nodded politely to Minerva who gave a half smile in return. To be honest, James admitted to himself that he didn't hate Minerva. In fact, he liked her quite a bit. However, her servility to Dumbledore and his agenda caused too much pain for many, not just Harry, so that James doubted he'd ever trust her again. Deciding to throw his old head of house a bone, he lightly grasped her hand before kissing her cheek.

"It's good to see you, Minerva."

When he pulled back, he saw that her eyes were suspiciously bright. "It's good to see you, too, James." Turning to the Lady Richmond, Minerva added, "Lily."

Lily was obviously feeling the Christmas spirit as well, evidenced by her light hug of the Transfiguration mistress.

Ending the emotional scene, James led Lily into the hall. Checking the seating chart listing next to the door, he found them listed under `Richmond' as opposed to `Potter'. Odd, that. All through his school years, he'd been addressed as James Potter, even after he'd inherited between sixth and seventh year. Shrugging off the change, he figured Albus was just sucking up to him.

"We're not at the same table?" Sirius wondered aloud. Pointing to `Blackmoor' on the list, James saw that Sirius was sat at table seven while the Potters were at table four.

"Can you function in society without me watching your every step?" Lily teased.

The two-fingered salute from Sirius answered the question quite succinctly: no.

Moving toward the drinks table, James shot Sirius a baleful eye. He'd warned Padfoot that if he got drunk this evening like he had at the Bones' he'd turn Lily loose on him. Sirius had shivered at the thought before pledging to keep his drink intake to three or less.

Handing Lily her Manhattan, James hoisted his gin and tonic. Toasting his wife, he sipped from his glass as he scanned the room.

He kind of recognized more than a few people, but they all looked so old. "Everyone's so different," he whispered to Lily.

Sadly, she nodded her head as she hooked her arm in his. There was Arthur and Molly Weasley across the way speaking to Amelia Bones and a Frenchman that looked vaguely familiar to James. Prongs stared a bit to see the baldpate of Arthur's head and Molly's, well; podginess was a strong word but the only one that came to mind.

"Did you ever find out what happened with the Weasley boy and our two?" James asked his wife.

"From Hermione it seems that young Ronald was always a wee bit jealous of the attention that Harry got by being The Boy-Who-Lived combined with the lad's persistent immaturity and…" she paused, "Boom."

"Yeah. Too bad."

"Hem, hem."

James paused, his drink halfway to his mouth. "Did you hear something?" he asked his wife.

"Hem, hem."

Turning to his left, he saw a squat, ugly woman. After staring for a moment, James blurted, "Hello?"

With a grin that was all teeth and no dimples, the woman replied, "Hello. I wish to speak with you, Mr Potter."

Taking in the woman's expensive dress robes, he figured she was either Ministry or the retainer of a wealthy family. Either way, the robes did nothing to hide the fact that she was so incredibly ugly as to be nearly deformed. James was stunned for a long moment before Lily budged him in the ribs. "Oh, yes. What would you like to discuss?"

"The ridiculous lies being circulated about you and your supposed statements about the goblins."

Frowning at the woman, James reflected on the - what he thought was subtle - campaign to raise the public's awareness of non-human magical being rights. In fulfilling his agreement with Fahgmahther, James had done a bit of research, coming away from his books appalled at the enforced servility by wizard kind on non-wizards.

Blinking didn't remove the disgusting record of accomplishment by humans or the disgusting visage in front of him. Forcing down his gag reflex, James asked, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

With an ungraceful movement that James thought might be an approximation of a bow, the witch replied, "My apologies, I am Ms Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to our Minister of Magic."

Blinking again to buy time, James swallowed the comment about "So what exactly does that mean, your toadiness?" Instead, he automatically replied, "Pleased to meet you." Half turning to Lily, he added, "My wife, Lily."

The reptilian grin continued with an added nod to the petite redhead at James side. There was a long silence as James waited for the grotesque to either get on with her business or move along. Finally, it spoke.

"I was told by Dirk Cresswell in Goblin Liaison that you had spoken against the Werewolf Suppression Act, as well as, the most recent Goblin Accords. Surely, he must be mistaken."

James couldn't resist. "Actually, I did and please, don't call me Shirley."

Umbridge blinked stupidly, not understanding the play on words. Lily, whom James had taken on a date to see Airplane! in the cinema, smiled in remembrance. She and James had snogged for the last half of the movie. She had always had a nagging wonder if Captain Kramer had talked down that pilot with the drinking problem.

Shaking off the misfired joke, Umbridge persisted, "But you're a fine upstanding member of our society. How could you support half-breeds and creatures?"

Clenching his jaw, James swallowed an insult while Lily pinched the inside of his arm. Obviously, `fine upstanding citizen' translated to `Pureblood Head of House' for this Umbridge bitch. Neither Potter wanted a scene, despite the fact that this Umbridge woman desperately needed to be bitch slapped so hard that her grandmother would grunt in pain.

Feigning recognition of someone on the other side of the room, James muttered, "Ah." Turning to the now florid Senior Undersecretary, he apologized, "You'll have to excuse us, Ms Umbridge."

"I'm not done with you," the amphibian posing as a witch objected.

At the end of his considerable patience, James snapped at the woman, "As a Senior Undersecretary in the Ministry, I'd think that you'd know your station." He paused to turn back to the now flummoxed witch. "You have just committed career suicide by first insulting and now accosting a member of the Wizengamot and the Earl of Richmond." When the woman recoiled, he added, "You Ugly Bitch."

James stomped away, Lily following as gracefully as possible, her short stride attempting to keep up with her taller husband. "James," she called softly.

He half turned, his temper cooling some. As a boy, he'd hated when people questioned his intelligence. James Potter was a smart person who was always more than a bit insecure about his standing in adult society. His parents, while good people, had always cossetted him more than was good for a boy, so deep in the back of his mind he'd always wondered if he belonged in the rarefied air on his own merits or because of his family name (or vault balance).

Umbridge's unfeigned surprise and shock that James would support Goblin or non-human magical being rights struck that chord for James, prodding him to his verbal assault.

He paused when he felt his wife's dainty hand wrap around his arm. Turning to her, he immediately felt ashamed. The expression on her face was a friendlier version of the reproachful expression she'd worn all through school when he went too far with his taunts and teasing.

Remorse swept over him like a wave. Sighing, he dropped his head, "Sorry."

He'd explained to Lily many years ago about is insecurity, so she understood his position, but still…it had been a major cause of disagreement between them for years. James' lashing out at Severus and others had kept them apart despite their mutual attraction, even if it was unacknowledged by Lily.

Therefore, he'd changed. It didn't mean that the change was permanent, though. Occasionally, like thirty seconds before, he'd have a relapse.

Without another word, James turned back to Umbridge, who was stock still after James' castigation. "Ms Umbridge, I apologize for my harsh words, but not for the intent behind them. I despise bigotry in all forms and your statements fit quite nicely in that description. Nevertheless, my insult was unnecessary and unpardonable. I apologize."

Without waiting for a reply, James turned away from the squat woman to find his wife beaming at him. He knew he'd done the right thing, but crow, even warm, is still rather ghastly.

.oOo.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Great Hall, Sirius was having as disagreeable an encounter as the Potters were having, just of a different nature.

"Ah, Black," said a voice behind Sirius. Turning away from the most delectable Hestia Jones, Area Director of British Magical Foreign Relations to the Eastern European Magical Confederation, Sirius saw the disagreeable Joseph Jugson. The pureblood supremacist had escaped the sweep of Death Eaters into Azkaban back in 1981. Some said he'd suborned those who would have prosecuted him; others said that he'd escaped on a technicality. Either way, he'd kept his family fortune and his freedom. As head of the Jugson and Yaxley families, Joseph Jugson had more than a little sway in the social circles of Magical Britain.

Hooking his arm in Sirius', he steered them toward a more secluded section of the Great Hall, nodding to a few persons in greeting as they walked. The room was sparsely populated with governmental officials and influential members of French, Bulgarian and British society. The students were to be admitted shortly.

"I have been very pleased to see you and Potter resuming your place in our society. It's been a travesty what you `ve been forced to suffer."

Frowning at the friendly words, Sirius paused to consider what the man wanted. Ideologically, he and Jugson were polar opposites and both men knew it.

"I understand you've brought a daughter into your family?"

Understanding flooded Sirius along with a fierce protectiveness.

"Yes, I have; the Lady Hermione."

"Yes, those quaint titles…" the man muttered with a smile. "I'd like to propose an arrangement."

Deciding to have a little fun before body slamming the man, Sirius feigned ignorance, "Oh? What kind of arrangement?"

"Why, between your girl and my grandson, Paul."

"And you've settled what on Paul?" Sirius asked as he affected a most nonchalant drawl. It was really hard to swallow his smile; this was going to be a good one.

Thinking that he had Sirius in his pocket, the Jugson patriarch smiled. "Well, I've already settled ten thousand on him, but am willing to increase it to fifty thousand upon your girl being wed to him."

"But what about Potter?" Sirius asked. He couldn't force down a smile when the older man was completely thrown by the seeming non-sequitur.

"What about him?" Jugson asked in confusion.

"Well, Baron Potter has put himself forward. Hermione has accepted him and I approve. I believe that the Potter heir can stand forward a bit more than fifty thousand. Don't you?" And he's not an inbred moron and Hermione is completely in love with him, and I like him and I don't like you and…this is fun.

"Potter heir…?" Jugson muttered in a lost tone.

"Sure!" Sirius exclaimed with false jocularity. Really getting into it, he threw his arm across the man's shoulder, "You know, `The Boy-Who-Lived' and all. Him."

"Ah. Then I see that…"

"It's completely impossible to tie your grandson to my girl," Sirius confirmed as his false jocularity faded away to reveal a deadly seriousness. Without further comment, he turned to stalk away from the pseudo Death Eater. Hopefully, he could find Hestia. She was sure looking good.

.oOo.

All the while that the elder generation was manoeuvring through the political and societal minefields within the Great Hall, Harry and Hermione awaited their turn to lead the students into the ball.

Hermione was putting forth all her considerable will to keep from fidgeting. Between the Black Diamonds and her Mithril bracelet, which she'd taken to calling Aine's Gift, Hermione was wearing in excess of a half million galleons in jewellery. Based on the intensely jealous looks she was receiving from the older girls, it seemed that many others were aware of it, which was the source of her desire to fidget.

Harry's hand on her arm brought her out of her preoccupation. Turning to face him, she broke out into a grin. He was regarding her with the most heartfelt expression of love she'd ever seen from him. Leaning into her, he whispered, "I love you."

Impossibly, her grin widened, "Love you, too."

Without taking his eyes off her, he nodded his head at the crowd, "They don't matter. Remember?"

It had become a refrain of his: although I desire `their' affection and esteem, in the end They Don't Matter. Only The Family Matters.

Her reply was a quick kiss on his lips.

"Champions up front!" called Professor McGonagall.

As Harry led the way through the crowd, Hermione trailing him, Hermione heard a hated voice, "Is that how much you cost Granger? You'd better be a good fuck for all that."

She didn't have to turn to recognize the voice as belonging to Pansy Parkinson. Deciding to ignore the chit, Hermione tried to move on to the doors. Harry turning to face the Slytherin girl circumvented that plan.

The eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived were glowing with agitated power. Magic poured off him in waves, causing the hall to groan under the pressure. In a near whisper, Harry harshly rasped, "Do we need to do this again, Parkinson?"

Fear flooded the teens face. The toadies who had crowded about her to `see her put the pretend pureblood in her place' fled from the scene. Alone now, Pansy shook her head frantically, her expression that of a chastened child.

Hermione almost felt sorry for the pug nosed girl. Almost.

Out of the corner of her eye, The Smartest Witch of the Age saw Harry's arm twitch. Having duelled him incessantly for Remus and Flitwick, she knew he now had palmed the front of his wand. Lily's admonition came to mind, "You don't need to hold the handle of your wand. Skin contact is all that is really needed. Many spells don't even need to be pointed at their target, so long as the caster has a sufficiently strong will so as to steer the spell with mental desire only."

Harry had a very strong will.

After he stared at the Parkinson heiress for a long second Harry turned to leave. Hermione gave the girl a pitying shake of her head before turning to follow her intended. Just as she passed into the crowd, the sound of an enormous fart ripped the air from the direction of Pansy.

Squeezing his hand, Hermione leaned forward when they stopped at the doors. "Did you?"

She knew that he was full aware of what she was asking. "My Dad is Prongs, my godfather is Padfoot and my uncle is Moony. Do you think they might have had a few impromptu prank lessons over the last few months? Besides, how better to hit back than to utterly humiliate her?"

The desire to reprove him was strong. He'd broken the sacrosanct rules, but damn if it didn't feel right that he'd hexed the bitch. Deciding to go with it, she gave him a little shake of her head when a faint sound of another tremendous fart tore the air.

She couldn't help it. Her smile matched his as they began to laugh.

.oOo.

Lily never knew that she could be so proud. Harry and Hermione were the second couple to process into the room; the champion from Beauxbatons led the way with her date followed by Harry and Hermione.

She shook her head as she watched her kids - for Hermione was hers as much as Harry was - enter the Great Hall.

"They look all grown up," she murmured to her husband. They did indeed. Harry's baby fat had all melted off over the previous months with his exercise and potion regimen while Hermione had always been slim. Together, they looked like…well; they looked like a youngish married couple. The diamonds twinkled from her hair and her throat. The signet ring that James had commissioned for Harry glinted from her son's right hand. His tie matched her dress as they came together in a natural movement. The music swelled as the champions began to dance.

Leaning on James, Lily became a bit teary eyed. Harry and Hermione were smiling and even laughing as he led her about the dance floor. Not looking away from the other, they were the stars of the dancers as the other champions stiffly sketched the steps of the waltz. Moving naturally with the music, Harry displayed his natural balance and rhythm as he effortlessly led his intended about the dance floor.

The strings quivered to silence as the horns quieted at the end of the song. As if by design, Harry and Hermione were in the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by the other champions. In a moment of spontaneity, Harry turned Hermione in a quick spin before dipping her. Bringing his laughing girlfriend upright, he kissed her quickly yet deeply.

The assembled students and few adults began to clap. Ostensibly, they were applauding the champions as a group, but all present were unabashedly clapping for the young lovers in the centre of the room who were still deep in each other's gaze. They were clapping for love.

.oOo.

"Pork chops?" James asked himself. Looking at the other occupants of the table, he counted the Ministers for Magic of Bulgaria, Germany and France. If old Fudgie hadn't caught a cold, he'd be there too.

Shaking his head at the menu selection, James was thoroughly convinced that Albus had lost his mind. Turning back to Heinrich Stass and his very interesting wife, Ada, he continued their discussion about the Black Forest. They'd been comparing stories about the Bavarian wood to the Forest of Dean in Britain. Despite his talent in Transfiguration, James had a passion for history. Half listening to his wife talking with the French Minister, he asked, "I forget, but doesn't the muggle legend of the tooth fairy come from the Black Forest."

"Ja, ja," Mrs Stass replied as she nodded. She too was a history enthusiast, having a muggle master's degree in the topic. Her thesis had discussed the impact on European political and social issues due to the fall of the modern European monarchies.

"But surely your son…he cheated," James heard from his left.

Stiffening, he turned to see Lily's face drawn and white. Glaring at the Frenchman, James asked, "Could you repeat yourself sir? I could've sworn that you just impugned my son's honour."

Lily was looking in her lap while she worried her napkin. To her husband it was obvious that she was exerting all she was to keep her temper in check.

"Ah," the man temporized. Obviously, he'd had a few drinks and in turn had spoken before thinking. "I withdraw my statement. Of course, I was…"

James looked away to give the man the opportunity to engage his other neighbour in discussion. Holding Lily's hand, he exhaled a long breath. Everyone at the table was tense as they watched The Parents Who Lived to see if they'd explode.

In the most genial tone he could muster, James told the group, "Our son was placed in the tournament against his will. We've been pursuing various means to remove him from the contest to no avail. Believe me when I assure you that Harry has no desire to be in this contest."

Murmurs of, "Of course," and the like burbled from the others at the table. James began to relax when he saw his wife's colour begin to return to normal. On the whole, it seemed that their tablemates believed James, but then again, they were politicians.

Glancing at the other table, James saw that Padfoot was deep in a conversation with a woman he thought was Hestia Jones. The smiles and laughter from his cousin lifted Prongs' spirits a bit. Rubbing Lily's arm, he waited. Eventually, she gave him a nod followed by a smile. She was fine or would be soon enough.

"Come on, let's dance," James asked as he stood.

With a sigh of relief, Lily nodded before standing into her husband's arms.

Seconds later, they were swept up into the music. A traditional three beat waltz was filling the hall as the older generation - and some of the younger - stretched their box step about the room.

"Thanks for the save," Lily admitted to James.

Shrugging, he told her, "I love you. This was nothing."

Smiling back at him, she closed the gap between them to lay her head on his chest.

James closed his eyes to savour the moment. Being this close made dancing difficult, but he loved holding Lily. Breathing deep of her scent, he gave her a squeeze. Across the room, he saw Harry and Hermione dancing and laughing as he gave a quick turn in the step.

The evening after he'd cursed those fucking Dursleys, James had a fleeting thought of killing himself. His utter failure to protect and care for his son was all encompassing and all consuming. Fortunately, for him, Lily needed him. Forcing himself out of his own selfish and self-centred concerns, he'd refocused on his current priorities. As he and his wife lay in the afterglow of their desperate lovemaking, he rededicated himself to his son and wife.

Seeing Harry so improved made it all worth it. James had gone against Albus Dumbledore, a man he'd revered most of his life. He'd thrown aside a treasured teacher and mentor in Minerva McGonagall. His life began to be framed in simple terms: You support my son or you're my enemy.

Despite the joy in Harry's eyes, he knew full well that his son wasn't `fixed' by any means. Prongs knew that even sharing a bed with his intended, on more nights than not, Harry would be revisiting 4 Privet Drive while in the realm of Morpheus. Most likely, they weren't fond remembrances.

Shaking off the maudlin thoughts, he remembered one of Lily's sayings, "Stay in the now." It was one of those muggle saying that was so simple in its wisdom. Reframing himself with his wife, James gave Lily a wide smile as he stepped off into a broad, deliberate step for the dance.

"Life's too damn short," he told her. Her nod of agreement was permission for both of them to move on in life.

.oOo.

Hermione was having an incredibly good time. The other night at the Ossuary had been a lot of fun. So too was tonight. Dressing to the nines and dancing with Harry the night long was far more fun than the description implied.

They headed off the dance floor after a fast pop dance. Impishly, she pulled her intended behind a pillar for a modicum of privacy. Grasping Harry by the head, she pulled him into a fierce kiss. Delving her tongue into his mouth, she vaguely felt him push her up against the pillar, his hands cupping her bum.

Reluctantly, the parted after a long minute. "Tonight?" she asked him. They'd only had the one night so far in which they'd been able to make love. Tonight, her body was yearning for his with an intensity like the cry of a Banshee.

"Most definitely," he replied, a little breathless from the kiss.

Her response was another enthusiastic kiss.

When they broke apart, Hermione looked deeply into his eyes. She supposed that this was a romantic moment where she should say something deep and meaningful, but her heart wasn't in that kind of mood. She was happy, irrepressibly happy, so she laughed. Harry caught the mood and began to laugh with her as they revelled in their joy of being together.

"You thirsty?" he asked.

Nodding in reply, she curled her arm in his as they chuckled en route to the drinks table. On the far side of the room, she saw Sirius dancing with a very beautiful blonde witch. Nudging Harry, she indicated to his godfather with her chin.

"That's brilliant," he commented with a smile.

"Yeah, he deserves it."

"Hey Potter!" a voice called.

Turning in tandem with her boyfriend, Hermione saw a very drunk wizard who was vaguely familiar. He was an older student, Ravenclaw or maybe Hufflepuff. The intoxicated young man giggled to himself as he wrapped his arm about his date. The blonde witch looked extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation. With his tie undone and robes dishevelled, the unknown wizard sneered, "You let any muggles thrash you lately? I hear you like that."

Hermione had never experienced rage before, but she did that night.

Harry stood next to her, stock-still. Later, she'd reflect that she was unable to tell if he was shocked at the wizard's audacity or hurt by the young man's words. Either way, she wasn't really focused on her raven-haired paramour.

In a moment of absolute clarity, Hermione's focus sharpened on the laughing wizard. Not bothering to draw her wand, she shot her hand forward.

Remus had insisted that the teens train in hand to hand fighting styles alongside their magical duelling. Neither would win any tournaments, but Harry was actually very proficient at mixing the two styles seamlessly in a duel. Hermione wasn't so good at it, but tonight wasn't a duel.

It was a beat down.

When the heel of her left hand hit the sneering boy's nose, there was a crunch as the bone broke. Most people pull their hand back at that point. Following Remus' dictum of `put `em down hard and fast', she followed through by stepping through her strike.

The one hundred and five pound witch lifted the fully grown wizard completely off his feet before he fell to the ground in a heap. During the two seconds from the word `that' to the man falling to the floor unconscious, Hermione's mind was devoid of thought for the first time in her life. There was a desire - no, a need - to hurt the person who had lashed out at her beloved.

Lifting her right foot off the ground, Hermione was about to finish the offender with a stomp to his Adam's apple when a hand on her arm stopped her. Her nostrils flaring, she spun toward the imbecile who would interrupt her disciplining of this…person.

It was Harry. "Don't."

His soft entreaty broke the red haze of her rage. Calming a bit, she realized that she was puffing like a locomotive while her magic arced from her hands to the floor.

Cradling her face in his hands, he stared into her soul. "Don't."

The first tear fell. "But he said…"

Nodding, Harry blinked long as if to collect himself. "They don't matter. You deserve better than to sully yourself like this," he whispered.

Dropping her head to his chest, she let him envelop her in his arms. More tears of frustration and rage fell. Some of her weeping was for the situation. The bleeding wizard who was unconscious on the floor had been completely out of line and deserved what he got and more.

Admitting to herself that she had enjoyed punishing the man was not so nice, though.

The other source of her frustration was residual guilt and anger at the Dursleys. Vernon and Petunia had been sentenced to ten years in the Dementor wing of Azkaban, while Dudley had been assigned to nine months in the low security wing on the island.

Dementors or not, the punishments of the Dursleys didn't matter, for it didn't take back one single blow, harsh word or moment of fear and pain that Harry had experienced as a boy. This arsehole's taunting had brought it all back for her.

He had learned a very harsh lesson: never, ever, harm the beloved of a budding Sorceress; it doesn't bode well for one's future endeavours.

"Oh my God," she whispered as Harry led her away from the scene to the rose garden. Looking up at her lover, she realized that she was so wrapped up in her own issues; she hadn't considered the emotional state of her Harry.

Pulling him into an alcove, she drew her Disillusioned wand to conjure a wall to give them privacy along with a floating light so they could see. "Are you Ok?" she asked as her hands caressed his cheeks.

With a sad shrug of his shoulders, he admitted, "I'm surprised it took this long for this to happen. I expected it a lot sooner after the article."

Closing her eyes as she admitted the truth of his statement, she curled into him again. Her anguish over his humiliation and exposure threatened to overwhelm her. Holding him close, she whispered, "I love you so much."

"As I love you." There was a hint of sadness in his voice when he encouraged her, "Let's get back to the dance. I was having fun."

.oOo.

"I can't feel my legs."

Harry chuckled as he pulled Hermione up his chest a bit. They were lying in his bed, naked and sated after an emotional and passionate lovemaking. "Is it a good or bad thing that you can't feel your legs?" he asked her.

"Very good." Kissing her way up his chest, she purred, "Very, very good."

He groaned as she playfully nipped at his neck. Panting softly, he asked, "Are you sure it's not from the dancing?"

Smiling wickedly, Hermione threw her leg over Harry before sitting up. Straddling him, she moved her hips in a delightful way. "No, I think it's because you shagged the life out of me earlier."

Trembling, Harry stuttered, "That's…that's good…to know…oh, God."

Quickening her movements, she groaned, "I intend to repay you."

.oOo.

James waited until Hermione came downstairs for a late breakfast before heading to his son's suite. He and Lily had talked long about how to deal with the situation. Both agreed that James should talk to Harry alone, but Lily insisted that he tell their son about her parents and their teenage parenthood.

After a quick rap on Harry's door, James entered. "Morning," he greeted his sleepy son.

Harry was laying on his back staring at the ceiling. "Morning," he grunted.

Sitting in a chair next to the merrily burning fire, James directed his son, "Go get cleaned up and dressed. We need to talk."

Awake now, Harry half sat up while looking at his Father questioningly.

"You're not in trouble, but we need to talk." Pulling a book out of his pocket, James began to read, his intent clear: We're not talking yet. He heard his son trudge off to the attached bathroom and the water start. Ten minutes later, a washed and clothed Harry sat across from his father.

Rauri had popped in with a tray of tea and scones, so Harry helped himself to a light breakfast.

Prongs was a Marauder, so he waited until Harry took a deep draught of his tea. "So, you and Hermione are having sex now."

His wand in hand, James cast a quick Shield charm, which was a good thing. It seemed that Harry spattered a litre of tea and other liquids towards his Dad.

Wiping his mouth, Harry regarded his father with a hint of fear as James cast a quick Cleansing charm about the room.

Waving at his son so as to allay his fears, James reassured him, "Like I said, you're not in trouble. You've found your counterpart and are in love with her as she is with you. Your magic is pulling the two of you together and it's a wonderful thing. I get that. If you'd like, you're mother has said that she'll perform the bonding potential ritual for you two. It'll tell us the status of the intermingling of your magic. You may or may not know is an accurate representation not only of your compatibility with each other but also how much you love each other.

"But that's not the point."

James could read the confusion on his son's face. Lily had told him that most teenagers in the muggle world would expect to be flayed alive at this point in the discussion. In the magical world, relationships and sex were much different, though.

"What is the point then?" Harry asked with a tentative tone.

"The point is: are you ready to be a father?"

Eyes round, Harry stared at his Dad.

"If you're having sex with the girl you love, you should be ready for her to carry your child. It's an adult activity with adult repercussions."

Leaning back in his chair, James stared at the fire. "Your mother's parents were good people. It was a blow to both your mum and me when they died, for they died far too young. You see, your grandmum Evans got pregnant with your Aunt Petunia when she was only fifteen. Your grandfather was sixteen."

Relaxing a hair, Harry leaned back in his chair. Despite the circumstance, he was soaking up the knowledge of his family.

James went on to relate the story of Rose and Joseph Evans; their ups and downs. "Now, you and Hermione have a financial advantage that Rose and Joe didn't have, but…"

The sentence didn't need to be finished. Harry nodded jerkily in understanding. Voldemort.

James had been trying to make this discussion as non-confrontational as possible while still bringing home the seriousness of the situation. "Contraception charms work well when they're cast. Right now, your mum is discussing the Contraception Potion with Hermione in hopes that both of you will take it. It will irreversibly prevent you two from conceiving a child for a twelvemonth. That way, if you two get caught up in the moment, I won't be a grandfather before I turn twenty five." Both Potter men chuckled at that. Prongs had taken advantage of a whole host of age related jokes since re-joining the time stream.

"Harry, I don't expect you two to be celibate, but I do expect you to be responsible."

More relaxed, Harry regarded his father closely. Realizing that he was being examined, James looked back with as serene expression as he could muster.

"Thanks Dad. Thanks for…" waving his hand, Harry tried to convey what he couldn't verbalize.

"You're welcome. I wish my Dad had been able to be understanding when he and I had this talk. The whole time I was thinking about Lily…"

"Ewww, Dad. That's my mother!"

"And what a sexy mother she is!"

"Aaahhh! My ears!" Harry screeched as he smiled.

"Yeah, she does this thing…" James broke off in laughter as Harry began to pelt him with shoes.

.oOo.

"Today we're going to work on the amount of power in your spells."

Hermione and Harry stood side by side in a dell not too far from the house. A quick Impervious charm coupled with a Warming charm allowed them to head out into a light mid-winter's rain in relative comfort.

Harry's brow furrowed as Hermione nodded. He glanced at his girlfriend and smiled. They'd had a very frank and serious discussion about their sex life after James and Lily finished with them. Afterwards, Hermione started brewing the potion. Two days later, they were infallibly protected.

Hermione had also moved into Harry's room that day.

That was two days before and Harry wondered if the penny would ever drop. He had his family; his best friend and he were in their proper orbit about themselves…life was beyond good. Harry was trying not to be pessimistic, but something really bad was going to happen soon. His life worked the way.

Remus turned to The Boy-Who-Lived, "Harry with the magical power you've displayed, I think we need to harness that potential. You've used it so far in an emotional situation, which is the proverbial, `lady lifts the auto off her child' situation. Your access to your magical potential needs to be a more conscious activity."

Baffled as to what Moony was referring to, he stared at his uncle.

The nudge from his left caused him to turn to The Smartest Witch of the Age. "Your Patronus that drove off the entire population of the Dementors of Azkaban?"

Blushing a little, he nodded, "Yeah, that."

"What I want you to do is first cast the Lighting charm." After a quick silent `Lumos' by both teens, the ends of their wands were glowing. "Did you feel the pull on your magic when you cast the spell?"

"No," Hermione answered promptly. Harry shook his head in negation.

"Right. Don't worry, I didn't expect you to." With a smile, he turned to the side of the dell. Remus cast two quick spells, which caused to targets to illuminate on the hill. "Cast the Reductor curse at the targets."

Harry snapped his wand up, his spell leaving the holly and phoenix feather combination a short second later. He'd been practicing at increasing how fast he could cast a spell. The confrontation with Malfoy and his goons had taught him a few lessons.

First: make your spells count. Accuracy is important.

Second: time is money. The faster one can get a spell off, the faster you can move on to your next opponent.

Third: don't be stupid. If faced with overwhelming odds, even the playing field - by whatever means necessary.

Every day, Harry had practiced his casting. Where it took him five seconds to cast a Reductor curse when he started back in early November, now he could cast four Reductor curses in the same span of time.

Target practice had been profitable. It was no surprise to Harry that Hermione was far his superior for accuracy, but Harry's aim to hit ability had increased significantly nonetheless.

His curse dug a very large hole in the hill. Next to his target, Hermione dug a similar hole, just a tad smaller.

"Did you feel a tug on your magic that time?" Remus asked.

Frowning, Harry remembered. "No, not really," he replied.

When Remus looked to Hermione, she shook her head in negation as well.

"Hmm," Remus mused. "Ok, try this. The incantation is Coracis and the wand movement is thus." Remus spun his wand in a tight circle before jabbing it forward.

Hermione went first. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, she flashed through the wand movement, incanting silently.

The side of the dell exploded.

Wide eyed, Harry met his girlfriends stunned gaze. Slowly, his expression melted to mirth. "You totally rock," he sputtered as he began to laugh. He knew that Hermione was incredibly intelligent, but it now seemed that she had enormous magical reservoirs as well.

Brushing some dirt out of her hair, Hermione offered Remus a sheepish smile. "I felt a little tug on my magic that time."

Stunned at the power potential of the bushy haired witch, Remus nodded absently. "Harry?" he asked before holding up his hand. "Hold on."

Scurrying to Hermione's side, he cast a Bunker Shield over both of them. "Ok, go ahead."

Wondering what his uncle was on about, Harry turned back to his target. After a deep settling breath, he snapped up his wand, beginning the wand movement en route. With another silent incantation, Harry cast.

There was a detonation as the entire hill of the dell lifted from the earth, creating a valley where before there had been merely a small dell. With a yelp, Harry dove for his girlfriend, hoping to be covered by Remus' shield.

Earth splattered on the shield while a few chunks of trees and bushes bounced off the glowing golden barrier.

"Holy Mary, mother of God," Remus muttered.

Hermione helped Harry to his feet as they looked around. Between the spells by the two teens, the once cosy little dell looked like the front line of the Battle of the Marne.

Running his hand through greying hair, Remus surveyed the damage. Glancing at Harry, he raised his eyebrows in query.

"Nope," Harry replied. He'd felt nothing.

"Let's try this," Remus muttered. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a few shrunken books. Conjuring a bench, he sat to search through the books.

Hermione pulled her boyfriend away from their tutor while he flipped through the books. "Do you have any idea how sexy you looked casting that spell?" Kissing him quickly, she smiled, "I thought I might jump you right there."

Harry smiled. His girlfriend had a very sensual side that they were exploring. It was always the quiet ones.

Leaving off her teasing, she brushed a bit of debris from his shirt. "You know, I knew you could do this," she indicated to the churned and obliterated earth. At his questioning expression, she continued, "Honestly, Harry. Last year, Remus told you that very few adults can cast the Patronus charm and once you got your mind straight about the spell, not only did you drive off a Dementor, but all the Dementors. I started to try to figure the power requirements to cast that level of spell, but the power required was off the charts."

Great, another reason to be a freak. Running his hand through his hair, he asked, "What do you think about that?"

Her only response was a soul searing kiss. After they broke apart, she told him, "I think about it as much as I do the whole The Boy-Who-Lived thing, which is not at all."

"Ok, you two, none of that here," Remus interrupted. Turning a book on his lap, he beckoned. "Try this."

Looking over Hermione's shoulder, Harry read the spell. It was a landscaping spell which rearranged the ground into the shape desired by the caster.

"This is used for small areas of earth, a metre square at most," Hermione observed.

"Yes, it is. I want you both to cast it to fix all this," he waved his hand to indicate the destruction. Pointing to the northern end of the wasteland, Remus instructed, "Hermione, you go first over there."

Harry stood back to watch his intended. She stood still, obviously rehearsing the spell in her mind. After a deep breath, she waved her wand in a wide, sweeping motion.

Watching in wonder, Harry saw the earth begin to move and reshape. "Wow," he whispered as the earth formed a perfectly terraced slope, fifty metres wide and a good fifteen metres tall. The entire area was beautifully landscaped with flowers and bushes. Down the middle was a stone paved staircase. She'd completely blown the doors off the power requirements of the spell.

When Hermione fell to her knees, Harry sprinted to her side. Reaching her, he saw her panting, but conscious. "I felt it that time," she offered with a smile.

"You alright?" he asked.

Her nod was all she replied as she held out her hand. Pulling her to her feet, he led her to the conjured bench. Flopping down, she motioned Harry to fix the rest of the dell. Turning back, Harry looked over the destroyed area. Picturing his desired shape and form in his mind, he quickly cast the spell.

The best comparison Harry could think of was a portkey. Just like the magical transportation device gives one that magical tug behind their navel, Harry felt a similar tug, but this time deep in his chest.

As the earth shifted like water, Harry concentrated and pushed from that area in his chest. With a grumbling groan, the earth responded. In the moment it takes a wave to break, nearly an acre of land was reshaped into a beautiful wild garden. A brook -when there had been none before - ran through the middle of the area surrounded by conjured flowering bushes and trees.

Overcome by tiredness, Harry turned back to his uncle and girlfriend. Remus was nonplussed. He alternated his staring from Harry to the garden and back. Hermione was smiling proudly. He gave her a brief grin as his arms hung limply at his sides.

"I felt that," Harry muttered before falling on his arse.

.oOo.

"They're goddam Merlin and Nimue."

Lily rolled her eyes. Remus had returned to the house a few minutes ago. As expected, he helped the teens to Harry's bedroom where he put them to bed for the rest of the day. Finding the rest of the family in the conservatory, he silently beckoned to them.

Wrapping a cloak over her shoulders, the petite redhead witch had followed the silent Lycanthrope. Seeing the newly created garden, she furrowed her brow. Turning this way and that, she saw that the bushes and trees extended for tens of metres in all direction.

Catching her husband's eye, she silently asked the question to which he put voice. "What happened out here, Moony?"

"They completely levelled the area then reshaped it." Moony's flat toneless delivery caught her attention.

"How many spells did all this take?" Sirius asked as he looked around.

"Four."

"Bullshit. Pull the other one, Moons. How many? Ten? Twelve?" Sirius didn't even look to this brother.

Lily was stunned for she could see the truth in Remus' face. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw James' mouth drop open.

"No bullshit, Padfoot. Four spells. A Siege Engine each followed by a Earth Mover each."

Sirius turned about. "Really?" he asked in a small voice.

Remus only nodded.

"They're goddam Merlin and Nimue," James breathed.

"Really, James," Lily chastised but stopped when she saw the serious expression on her husband's face.

"Lils, you don't understand. Sure, there are strong witches and wizards out there. Dumbledore and McGonagall are just two of the examples." Waving his hand over the huge expanse of revamped garden, he added, "But I doubt they could do all this with only two spells." He was ignoring the Siege Engine destruction of the area in the first place. The Earth Mover didn't need freshly ploughed ground with which to work. "You and I can't and we were some of the strongest in our year."

"Should we tell them?" Lily mused aloud.

"Tell them what?" Sirius asked.

"Tell them that they're in the top one percent of all witches and wizards in all of Britain for magical power and potential."

Remus rubbed the back of his neck. "I already told them, sort of."

James frowned. "Sort of?"

Holding up his hands in supplication, Remus explained, "I was looking at them all funny after Harry did his `God on the First Day' impression. Hermione pressed me, so I explained that I didn't know anyone who could have done what they just did together." Pointing to the huge terraced garden on the north ridge, Remus told them, "Hermione did all that with one spell."

"Bloody buggering shite."

Lily nodded numbly to her husband's succinct description of the situation. Eyeing James, she asked the group, "Should we get Filius over here tomorrow?"

Remus nodded in agreement. James concurred when he told them all, "Yes. I've no idea what to do with all this."

Turning back to the house, Lily took James' hand in hers. They were all quiet; lost in thought. Lily was broken from her musings when Sirius began to giggle.

"What?" she asked.

"Harry is gonna fuck Voldemort so hard, the dark bastard won't be able to walk straight ever again."

The other two wizards displayed their roots in the Marauders as they burst into laughter. Lily rolled her eyes again. Why did she love these losers?

.oOo.

Since it was two days until the start of term, they delayed their discussion with the Charms Master until they returned to school. Hermione thanked Rauri as he popped off with her and Harry's things, but she was depressed. Flopping on their bed, she stared at the ceiling.

"Did Rauri take our stuff already?" Harry asked as he came in from the bathroom.

Her only reply was a nod.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sliding onto the bed next to her.

"I'm not sure how I feel about going back to Hogwarts. When we returned after first coming here after Halloween, I really didn't want to leave here, but was excited about getting back to school."

Harry snorted and smiled, earning a glare from his girlfriend.

"Now, I really don't want to go back." Rolling toward him, she began to play with the buttons of his shirt, "For one thing, we can't share a bed at school." With wide eyes, she asked him, "Does that make me a slut?"

Kissing her softly, he reassured her, "No, it makes you in love with me."

Sighing, she laid her head on his chest as she rolled into his arms. "We're going to have to find a way to have some alone time, though."

"I talked to my Dad. He said that occasionally we can use their guest rooms."

She smiled, "He stressed the `occasionally', did he?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry groaned, "Oh, yeah. Why else?"

"Why else don't I want to go back?" When he nodded, she elaborated, "We're different." Sitting up, she toyed with a loose thread on the bedspread that lay on top of the bed, "Not only are we on this highly specialized tutoring path because a Dark Lord is out for us…"

He interrupted, "Out for me."

Grabbing him by the front of the shirt, she kissed him thoroughly, "What is done to one is done to us both. If he's out for you, then he gets me in the bargain."

Accepting her statement, he teased her, "I thought I was the only one to get you?"

Rolling her eyes, she teased back, "Pervert."

"And you love it."

"Anyway," she said around her smile. "We're just so different now. We have tutoring, this high-end level power reservoir and the Dark Lord. Quidditch and classes seem so small now. Provincial even."

Harry was quiet, taking in what she said until he murmured, "Does it matter?"

Thinking about his question, she asked, "Do you mean, does it matter in our day to day life?" When he nodded, she rolled her eyes, "Harry, it completely changes our everyday life."

"Do you want it to be different? Do you wish we weren't together, or you and Sirius weren't making your own little family?" There was more than a hint of fear in his voice.

Realizing his point, she sat up, straddling him. "Never. I love you. I love Sirius, your parents and Remus. I don't want to change anything." After kissing him on the neck, she glanced at the clock. "You know, we've got an hour before we leave."

Rolling over on top of her, he nestled between her legs. "Well then, we mustn't waste the time. Whatever shall we do?"

.oOo.

The meeting with Flitwick was not what Hermione expected. Filius Flitwick had always seemed to her to be a happy-go-lucky professional who knew his craft inside and out.

When Remus described the power display by Harry and Hermione over the holiday break, Filius' expression became stern. Turning to Harry, he chastised him. "You could have killed those children."

Hermione could tell that Harry was still ashamed of his behaviour with Malfoy and the Incredibly Stupid Followers. At the same time, neither teen could think of another way to have handled the situation while still protecting the Hufflepuff firsties.

"With this kind of power available to both of you, you must gain control so that you will be able to exercise restraint." Nodding toward Hermione, Flitwick asked, "What would have happened should Miss Granger-Black have been with you that day? If she should have been injured?"

"I'd have exploded," Harry whispered in reply.

"Which is why you both must learn restraint. There is a time and a place for high powered casting. At Hogwarts with thirteen and fourteen year old children is not that place."

Having had enough of the `beating up on Harry show', Hermione interrupted, "So how do we learn this control?"

Flitwick's eyes flashed to her, aware of her changing the topic. Finally, he gave in as he answered, "There are a series of spells that you shall be casting. They progress up and down the power scale so you can more readily identify how much power you are using when you cast. After that, we shall begin the process of controlling how much power you use when you cast any spell. You could make the Lighting charm as bright as the sun or as dim as a taper candle. Control, you must learn control."

.oOo.

"Hey there."

Hermione looked up to see Sirius looming over her, a soft smile on his face. "Hey." They'd been back at school for a few days. Strangely, there'd been no transition. Their tutoring had continued over the hols. They'd been studying at Rowan Hill, though, instead of the Hogwarts Library.

Turning a chair about, he straddled it, a pensive expression on his face. "I've been thinking a lot about us being the Head of the Black family and all." Her expression sharpened as her attention focused on her adopted father. They'd not talked about the practicalities of the magical adoption. Instead, they'd just fallen into a comfortable relationship where they did their utmost to earn the others trust.

His face fell when he told her, "I really don't want to carry on any of the traditions or perpetuate anything I experienced or learned when I was a child."

Her heart sank. There was so much focus on Harry and his abusive upbringing, that most forgot that Sirius had a very similar experience. Reaching out, she took his hand in sympathy.

He squeezed back as he continued, "My thought is that together, we'll reinvent the house of Black; making the Lord or Lady Blackmoor a person that stands for what is right as opposed to Toujours Pur."

Hermione nodded in agreement. When Sirius had sneeringly related the motto of the Black family, she'd tried to be charitable in suggesting that maybe the motto referred to `pure of heart'.

Sirius was stunned to silence for ten seconds before laughing uproariously.

"The first thing I'm doing is officially changing the motto of the house of Black. Gone is that legacy of bigotry and feigned pureblood superiority. From now on, our motto shall be `Semper Fidelis'."

She smiled. `Always Faithful' described both her and Sirius quite well.

"However, one part of our family that we'll have to work hard to reinvent is our financial holdings and investment portfolio. I'm going to the Bank today. The goblins have our account manager standing by in order to start the revamping of the Black Family from the inside out."

"Can I come?" she asked.

His wide smile brightened her day. "I hoped you'd say that." After leaving a note for Harry and donning her cloak, hat and gloves, she followed Sirius to the fireplace in James and Lily's suite. Dumbledore had allowed this fireplace to be connected to the Floo network, for which Hermione was very glad. The weather outside was horrible; sleet and freezing rain.

"The Leaky Cauldron!"

Ten seconds of swirling later, she popped out of the fireplace. Sirius cast a quick Cleansing charm on her before leading the way out of the pub via the back door. In London, a soft snowfall started to coat the street. Since it was mid-afternoon, the alley was quiet. Hooking her arm in Sirius' she lay her head on his shoulder for a moment. "Thank you, Sirius."

She felt a soft kiss on the crown of her head, "You're very welcome, my dear."

Silently, they headed down the nearly empty alley. From the corner of her vision, she thought she saw someone scurrying, but when she turned that way, there was no one to be found.

The bank was warm, so Sirius took her over clothes before shrinking them. After stowing them in his pocket, he headed to the tellers.

"Hello, Shitheap." Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry had told her all about his father's penchants regarding goblin names.

"Blackmoor you little slut. What do you want?"

Sirius was stunned to silence, while Hermione began to laugh heartily. She was leaning on her knees, gasping for breath by the time Sirius managed to grin. "Got me."

"Yes, we did. Now, what do you want?"

"We've an appointment with Gripsack."

Grunting, the goblin heaved his impressive girth off his stool. Five minutes later, she and Sirius were sitting down in a richly apportioned conference room. Spread about the room was piles of documents. An older, well-dressed goblin was seated in the middle of the table, while four younger goblins in plain attire bustled about the room.

"My Lord, my Lady," the old goblin intoned as he rose from his chair. "I am Gripsack, your accounts manager."

Having read no less than seven books on wizarding etiquette, Hermione stayed silent as Sirius replied to the Goblin for both of them.

Gesturing about the room, Gripsack told them, "The Black portfolio is divided into seven different groups. Based on your instructions, we've taken the liberty of placing al questionable investments in one group. The same is true for questionable or cursed objects in the Black vaults."

"Let's get that out of the way first," Sirius said grimly.

As they sat, Sirius turned to her, "I want you to look through the forms first. Divide the objects and whatnot into `keep' or `liquidate or destroy' piles. I'll then go through your piles to double check. While you're doing that, I'll go through the investments then we'll swap." His reassuring smile punctuated his instructions.

Completely stunned at the trust Sirius was placing in her, she didn't realize that he was also training her. Most people learn how to run a fortune by `doing', so he had her `doing'.

The first object was a cursed necklace, which caused any pregnant muggle woman to miscarry the pregnancy unexpectedly. Nearly vomiting, she placed the sheet in the `liquidate/destroy' pile.

An hour later, Hermione was still a bit queasy - some of the items had been truly disgusting - but she also had an immense respect for the enchanters who'd created some of the objects:

A breastplate, which made the wearer immune to all non-magical attacks.

A matched pair of plain gold rings, which allowed the wearers to communicate via a type of telepathy.

A book of spells, which was self-updating whenever a new book was added to the Black family library.

The dark and dangerous items were many and varied too. They didn't bear remembering, just destroying.

Sirius glanced at his watch. Tucking it back into his pocket, he rose. Helping Hermione from her seat, he nodded to Gripsack. "We must be going, but we'll return tomorrow at the same time to continue this effort." Bowing from the waist, he told the goblin, "We are most satisfied with the services provided for the Black family by the Goblin Nation."

Gripsack rose. Returning the bow, the old goblin replied, "The Goblin Nation is honoured to serve the house of Blackmoor in any capacity and pleased to provide acceptable service."

Without further ado, they headed out of the bank into a now heavy snowfall.

With a soft voice, Hermione told Sirius, "Thanks."

Patting her arm affectionately, he replied, "You're very welcome, daughter."

She smiled at the term. Her parents had never been very affectionate; to have Sirius be a bit lovey-dovey was very welcome.

Sirius falling down while screaming wasn't what she expected next.

In a flash, she registered his shattered leg with blood pooling under it.

Turning, she automatically shielded him. Four more spells deflected off her Arx Bunker shield.

All the hours of duelling paid dividends over the next ten minutes. Quickly conjuring a thick marble dome, she levitated it over her unconscious protector. With Sirius safe, she turned her attention on their attackers.

"Kill the mudblood pretender then kill the blood traitor!" There were five of them in Death Eater robes.

Since she and Harry had started to flex their magic with high-powered casting, she found it much easier to push more power into her spells with less draining effects on her.

The Bone Breaking curse shattered a Death Eater's shield along with his skull. The pulp that remained dripped to the ground as the rest of the corpse fell to the paving stones.

The other four all paused when they saw one of their own savagely dispatched. This delay cost them their lives.

A Reductor to the chest jellied the leader's intestines before they moved. At this point, they were no longer charging toward the `mudblood pretender and the blood traitor'. Now, they were in full flight. Unfortunately for Hermione, they went into a dead end alleyway.

As everyone knows, a cornered beast is at its most dangerous.

The three remaining Death Eaters turned on The Smartest Witch of the Age with desperation.

Two Cruciatus curses along with a Killing curse lanced out of the alley.

Hermione dove to the side, avoiding the spells while still keeping Sirius in sight. Rolling to her back, she snap cast a spread of Paralysis curses.

One of the Death Eaters was caught up on the curse, causing him to crumple to the pavement. The other two pressed on to the now standing witch.

Her anger boiling over and mixing with her fear, Hermione's magic began to loose its bounds.

With her eyes glowing blue, the alley groaned under the chaotic wild magic. With her naked hand, she batted aside an Entrail Expelling curse, returning fire with a Cutting curse.

One more Death Eater out of commission; his head sliding from his shoulders most ungracefully.

Her lip curling over her teeth like a wolf, she stalked after the last Death Eater. A modicum of sanity intruded, though, slowing her down. When the coward slave of Voldemort threw down his wand in terror, she had the sense to Stun and Bind him for the Aurors to interview.

Turning back, she ran to Sirius. With a wave of her wand, she Vanished the bubble overtop her adopted father. His leg was bleeding heavily and his face was pale.

As the residents and shoppers in Diagon Alley began to poke their heads out the door, she screamed, "SOMEONE GET A HEALER!!!"

.oOo.

Harry was sprinting through the halls of St Mungo's hospital. When the Communication charm sounded in his ear that Hermione and Sirius were at the hospital, he'd boltered for the Floo shouting the news to his parents as he went.

Jumping out of the Floo at the hospital, he didn't even realize that he'd made his first successful Floo landing - nor did he care.

The receptionist was completely overwhelmed by the sight of The Boy-Who-Lived running up to her desk. She gaped when he shouted, "Hermione Granger and Sirius Black! Where are they?!"

When she continued to gape, Harry shouted again, "Dammit woman! Where are they?"

"Four-fourth floor. Spell damage," she stuttered.

Bypassing the lift as he didn't want to wait, Harry ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Turning the corner from the stairway, he saw two red-robed Aurors standing guard outside a door. Assuming his intended and godfather where inside, he ran to the door.

"Sorry, Mr Potter. You can't go in there," the taller Auror announced as he stepped in front of the door. Sometimes it was a real pain in the arse to be a public figure and therefore everyone knew you by sight.

"Why not?" Harry asked. He didn't mean to be churlish, but couldn't help it. Didn't they know that Hermione was in there?

"Lord Blackmoor and the Lady Hermione are considered materiel witnesses in a felony attack."

"And I'm her fiancé."

The Auror's eyes bulged. Glancing at his partner, he turned a questioning eye on the teen. "Are you sure about that, Mr Potter?"

"Yes. Didn't you see that mithril bracelet? That was my engagement gift to her," Harry had no compunction lying to the men. "Now, I'll be seeing my intended and my godfather."

Pushing past the startled law enforcement officers, he found Sirius and Hermione in side by side beds. The room was darkened, the curtains closed. Hermione was on her side, snoring softly while Sirius was on his back, still very pale.

Rushing to her side, he took her hand. Relieved at the warmth, he saw that she'd opened her eyes. "Are you Ok?" he asked.

Softly, she croaked, "Yeah. Just tired. How's Sirius?"

Confuse after finding her fine, he turned to his godfather. Not knowing what to do, he prodded Sirius in the shoulder. When he didn't awaken, he turned back to his girlfriend. "He's still out."

Sitting on her bed next to her, he retook her hand. "I was so scared." He nearly broke down in tears, when she smiled through her muddle-headedness.

"I'm fine. Don't need to worry about me."

Taking a deep breath he forced himself to relax. The tension bled out of his body slowly but inevitably. "I er, had to tell a bit of a lie to get in here."

Softly smiling, she poked him in the ribs, "What did you tell them?"

"Er," he fidgeted, "I told them we were engaged."

Surprisingly, she didn't scold him. Softly kissing his palm, she closed her eyes as she lay his hand on her cheek, "Sounds good to me. Go fetch my ring."

Smiling widely, he relaxed. She was fine or would be soon. "Seriously, are you well?"

Nodding her head, she replied, "Yeah. Just wiped out. A Pepper Up and I'll be able to head back to school." Looking at the other bed, she added, "I didn't want to leave him here all alone. He's woken up all alone for far too many years whilst in Azkaban."

Harry nodded. "My Mum and Dad are right behind us. I'm sure they've called in Remus as well. Handy, that charm, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded, but her expression was far from cheerful. Chucking her under the chin, he asked, "What's on your mind?"

"I killed three men today."

Silent for a minute, he mused on how to proceed. Finally he began with the most important item first. "I still love you and I'm sure everyone else does too. You do realize that we've all killed, don't you?"

Her face clouded before she had a minor epiphany, "Professor Quirrell…"

He nodded. "My Dad told me that the first time he and my Mum killed during the war they both cried like toddlers." Looking away, he admitted, "I never told you, but that night in the infirmary after…well after I realized that I'd killed him…" he paused.

"I've never told anyone that I sobbed most of the night. Now that I think about it, I'm sure that Madam Pomfrey knew, but gave me the privacy I wanted." With emotion filled eyes, he told her, "You did what you had to do to protect Sirius and yourself, just like I did what I had to do to protect myself."

She stared at him long, waiting for what he didn't know. Finally, she whispered, "Thanks." Squeezing his hand tightly, he knew that she was on the right road. Even though he knew that he did what he had to do regarding Quirrell, Voldemort and the Stone, he still had nightmares about it occasionally. He expected to be comforting Hermione for some time now.

There was a knocking at the door. "Mr Potter? Your parents and a Mr Lupin are here to see your fiancée and your godfather. Should we let them through?"

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. His Dad and Remus were never going to let this one die. "They can come through," Harry called.

The door opened, admitting Lily first. She smiled at the couple on the bed before her eyes flicked to the still sleeping Sirius. Harry really didn't want to look at his Dad or Moony, but decided to rip the plaster off instead of prolonging the torment.

His Dad had an amused smirk on his face. Moony had a much more dangerous expression: confused innocence.

Sighing, he leaned back on the bed. "Get it over with."

"Why Little One, whatever do you mean?" Moony asked with a voice dripping with sincerity and caring. "We just want to know how your beautiful fiancée and her lecherous adoptive father are doing."

Turning to a now laughing Hermione, he groaned, "Kill me now."

.oOo.

The entire family had gathered in James and Lily's suite for dinner. Sirius was mostly recovered from his encounter in Diagon Alley, but his leg was still a bit tender. Sitting on the corner of the table, he stretched it out with a loud groan.

Harry looked to his godfather. "You Ok?"

Sirius shrugged.

Knock-knock

James frowned as he stood from the table. Lily was passing around the pudding course so he told her, "Spoon me up a serving, will you love?"

Turning back to the door, he opened it as Moony told an old joke. James smiled. That one about the Veela, the Quintaped and the Leprechaun never got old. The smile faded when he saw Albus Dumbledore at the door.

In as polite a tone as he could muster, James asked, "Yes Albus? What can I do for you?"

Evidently bracing himself for an argument, Dumbledore began, "As we discussed before Christmas, Miss Granger shall be Harry's hostage for the second task…" That's as far as he got.

"And we told you that was an impossibility," James countered with steel in his voice.

"Who is it James?" Lily called from the table.

Without turning away from the Headmaster, James replied, "Dumbledore. He wants Hermione."

There was no reply from the table, just the scraping and scattering of chairs.

"Hey!" came from Hermione. James assumed that Sirius or Harry was pushing her into one of the bedrooms.

Forcibly pushed aside from the doorway, James scrambled for his footing. Sirius had taken his place. He'd never seen his cousin so angry.

Glancing back in the room, he saw Remus and Harry with their wands drawn while facing the doorway. It must have been Lily who took Hermione into the other room. Prongs had no doubt that Rauri was with them by now as well.

James was cynically amused by the situation. Dumbledore didn't learn, did he?

"Stay away from my daughter, Dumbledore," Sirius hissed.

The old man's eyebrows arched at Sirius' use of `daughter' but said nothing. After a long moment, he pressed, "She is required for the tournament."

"For which neither she nor my son volunteered," James interjected as he came shoulder to shoulder with Sirius.

Dumbledore sighed, "James…"

"No Albus. Just go away, for you'll not get her," Sirius interjected.

The Headmaster's gaze sharpened as he focused on Padfoot. After a long moment, he nodded, "Very well. I must say, it's good to see you so paternal, Sirius."

When the old man turned and began to head down the hallway, Sirius called, "Don't send an elf for her either, Albus. You'll not like the consequences of that action. I'd rather not have to kill one of your elves."

Turning back into the room, James saw Harry make a beeline for the guest bedroom.

The door was thrown open before Harry got there to reveal a furious Hermione Granger. Her face red, she pointed a finger at first Sirius, then the rest of the men, one at a time.

"I just finished yelling at Lily, so now I'll ask you all who the bloody hell you think you are to stuff me in a closet because the Headmaster is at the door?"

James winced. The magic was roiling in the room as Hermione lashed out. Sometimes they forgot that The Smartest Witch of the Age was nearly as powerful as The Boy-Who-Lived. Not only that, but she'd just proven herself in battle against five Death Eaters, emerging victorious.

With his head hanging, Harry approached his girlfriend. "Love," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to protect you. I'd die if you were hurt…."

In frustration, she nearly yelled, "Harry! How can I be mad at you when you do that?!"

James swallowed his laughter. Witches. Confused, Harry looked up at her, "Hunh?"

Her hands on her hips, she scowled at her man. "How can I be mad at you when you're sincerely sorry like this?"

Still confused, Harry stared. Taking pity on his son, James came up behind him. Bending over to talk in his ear, James stage-whispered, "Now would be a good time to kiss her."

Everyone laughed as Harry took his Dad's advice to heart.

.oOo.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked his father for the fourth time. "I thought we were telling the old man to bugger off." The family had talked long after everyone calmed. They reaffirmed their intention of non-participation in the task, with a backup plan in reserve that Harry had been practicing.

Every so often, The Boy-Who-Lived checked the crowd to ensure his intended was still sitting between Padfoot and Moony. Based on the expression of the two Marauders, blood would be spilt should anyone make an attempt to whisk away Harry's bushy haired paramour.

Sighing, James placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, "Play the game, son. Let Dumbledore say something stupid, demand you participate in the task. Stick your hand in the lake and you've met the requirement of `attempting the task' and you're done."

"Fine," Harry grumbled. James didn't give Harry a hard time because he knew what was running through his son's head. Neither Potter trusted Albus Dumbledore so both were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Despite James' words, he fully expected a complete bollixed event.

Dumbledore and the other Heads finally arrived with Ludo Bagman. After a ridiculous introduction of the task, a cannon was fired off, signalling to the champions to begin.

Before any of the older champions had entered the water, Harry shoved his fist in the Black Lake before shouting, "I'm done!"

`What?" Bagman asked in sincere confusion. The splashes of the other champions entering the water distracted him for a second before he signalled to Percy Weasley to join the discussion. As the redheaded lickspittle strutted to the platform, Bagman turned to Dumbledore, "Albus, would you please join us?"

With a chagrined expression, Dumbledore demurred, "I'm sorry, Ludo, but that won't be possible." The restraining order was still in effect preventing the Defeater of Grindlewald from talking to the Defeater of Voldemort.

James smiled as he saw that the Head of the Department of Games and Sports was befuddled by Dumbledore's refusal. "Okay," Bagman muttered.

Turning back to Harry, he asked, "So, what are you on about, Harry?"

Percy chimed in with his two cents, "Really, Potter. Quit your teenaged angst and commence the task."

Harry took a deep breath and held it before slowly exhaling. James took the hint that his son was on the verge of hexing the Weasley idiot, so he interjected, "My son has completed the requirement of the task and is required to do no more. He's tired of playing your little game and will do so no longer."

"But what about the Longbottom boy?" Bagman blurted, true incomprehension on his feeble expression.

"Neville? You took Neville?" Harry asked in a harsh whisper. James glanced at his son. Seeing the rage on his son's face, James jerked Bagman and Weasley to the deck of the dock for their own protection, guessing that they would be the focus of his son's temper.

James guessed wrongly.

Harry spun on the old Headmaster, snapped up his wand, casting a silent Reductor curse.

Reflexively, Dumbledore slashed his wand in a defensive motion, calling an Aegis Fortis shield into being. Harry's high-powered curse reflected off the old wizard's duelling shield before it impacted a centuries old oak tree.

As the ancient tree exploded to small bits with a thundering crack, James turned back to see Harry employing their standby plan for the task. He'd already cast the transfiguration spell on himself which gave him gills. A quick wand wave caused the Anti-Friction and Impervious spells to cover his body and clothes followed by a Warming Charm and the Night Vision Charm. With one last glare at the Headmaster, Harry turned to the water and dove.

The gust of bubbles gave proof to Harry's use of the Air Compressor Charm as his means of propulsion. Within minutes, he'd be at the Mer-Villiage to hostage his friend.

Picking himself off the dock, James glared at the Headmaster. "You took my godson, old man. If Harry doesn't kill you, I'd be very afraid of what Augusta Longbottom and I will do to you, Albus." James closed his eyes as his anger at the old man peaked. "I suggest you leave now and let Minerva be your proxy to judge the task."

The old man cocked an eyebrow as if to ask, "Do you really think your son could hurt me?"

"Yes, Albus, I do think Harry could hurt you. Very badly at that," James replied to the unspoken question. "You've threatened those he cares about. If you'd have actually taken Hermione, Lily or me, I do believe Harry would have killed you outright before rescuing us. You've been warned."

After a moment's consideration, Albus nodded. Turning to find Minerva, he repeated his nod to her, indicating her relief of him as judge. "I believe I'm feeling unwell," he told no one in particular. "I shall retire to my rooms as Minerva continues in my stead."

"Very wise, Albus," James muttered as he turned back to the lake, watching in agitation for his son to resurface with James' godson in tow.

.oOo.

Seventeen minutes later, Harry and Neville broke the surface of the lake. Together, they began to swim to shore.

A/N

1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first seven chapters. Story status, as always, can be found on my Author's page on FanFiction(dot)net.

2. Recommendation for the chapter is The Power of the Press by Bobmin. Find it over on Fanficauthors(dot)net. Excellent character driven story of Harry and Hermione.

3. I give up. Bob did it again. Check the reviews of Chapter 7 for his impromptu Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings crossover. *muggledad clears his throat* "Attention everyone! Special guest authorship for this story is now conferred on Bobmin356! Should anyone know what the `356' stands for, please contact customer service. That is all." Personally, I think the cup runneth over from Saying No, but hey, I can't write crack like that, so who am I to say.

4. So we're eating dinner the other night when one of my daughters asserted herself in the family circle. In the middle of a delightful meal (my wife is a phenomenal cook), Daughter The Younger Twin ripped a fart that had to last a full 60 seconds. For her to let fly isn't unusual, but time it; 60 seconds is an incredibly long fart, especially coming from a 35 pound, five year old little girl. I was astounded at her gastroenterogical capacity. Truly amazing. My wife and I really tried hard to be the stoic and stern parents, but couldn't help it. Our seven year old son was rolling on the ground halfway through the mammoth exposition while Daughter The Older Twin giggled nonstop. By the end, our entire family was roaring with laughter. Why am I telling you this? First, `cause it's a really funny story, second, the cacophony created by Daughter The Younger Twin was the inspiration for the payback to Pansy before the Yule Ball.

5. Siriusly, Serious by Chem Prof came out yesterday. I swear, I had my Airplane! joke in Last Casualties before his story came out. It tells two things: he and I are `of an age' where we both saw it on its first run and that great minds think alike!

6. Ok, I'm a father of three, two of which are girls. Am I condoning two young teens having sex in my house on a recurring basis? Would I let my son and daughters do that? Uh, that would be no. Besides, my wife would castrate me.

It's James and Lily doing who are allowing Harry and Hermione to shack up. They tried the `stern parent' routine after the first task and it got broken off in their ass. Now, the pendulum is swinging the other way. In this case, though, I think it'll work out. Harry and Hermione aren't human, their a wizard and witch so the rules work differently. As you read in the chapter, magic (in the muggledad `verse) plays a significant role in non-marriage contract relationships.

.Chapter complete September 5, 2011

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