Summary:
The Harem War By: Radaslab AU post OoTP. Poor Harry. Sirius left him far more than a house and some money. Dumbledore is the Dark Lord? And what is he supposed to do with the women he was left? Sometimes, Pranks suck and others they are opportunities. H/MultiRated: Fiction M - English - Adventure/Romance - Harry P. - Chapters: 76 - Words: 749,417 - Reviews: 5,044 - Favs: 7,700 - Follows: 6,740 - Updated: Jun 5, 2011 - Published: Jan 4, 2010 - id: 5639518
WARNING!
THIS FICTION IS RATED M FOR MATURE! There is course language barred by the FCC, explicit sexual situations and there will be violence (later). For those who have read my other works, this is not tame.
For those who waited for my Harry/Harem fic...
INTRODUCTION
This story begins just after the Battle at the Department of Mysteries in OoTP. It is very AU from that point. It is MOSTLY Canon before, but not entirely. This is or will be Harry/Multi. Hermione will be a player.
Hermione might seem a little OOC, as this Hermione has a really dirty mind…and finally a way to express it. Then again, we really never knew what she was thinking, did we?
This is a "partial" response to the "Slave Challenge" posted by Ranger Dragan (I think) some time ago. It has been mentioned in my profile and as I hit a bit of writer's block on my ongoing other fic (30 Minutes) I decided to get this one going.
The Challenge bits I accept are that Harry finds himself with "slaves." They all have to be girls, and there have to be two from each house at Hogwarts. Done, and done beyond. Dumbledore has to be a right bastard. Done. Weasley bashing. Sorry, can't bash them all, but some are Done. Harry finds himself in these circumstances thanks to Sirius. Done. He's allowed to brutalize his "slaves." Okay, here's were I depart. I have no problem with Harry going medieval on someone (and he will), but not on someone who's loyal to him. (Otherwise he's just Voldie Jr.) So no beatings of his girls, sorry. Copious amounts of sex? Yes. But no beatings.
His magic must be bound. Done. He must have been defrauded out of his inheritance up to now. Done. He inherits and island floating around in the Atlantic - kind of done.
Some scenes might be considered "fem slash," but they are explained.
My notion of Harry having a sibling does appear. This Clarice is a minor character used more to show just how vicious certain people are.
This fic assumes a world that is grossly male dominated and oriented, where women (witches) are considered chattel. There was a time when this would have been close to reality in history, but the degree here is beyond even the historic perspective and I happen to find it offensive in the extreme, but it is a plot point so I'm stuck with it.
Now the challenge suggested Harry should be a right bastard himself. Guess I fail on that count.
The next bit will save you from having to read 30 or more chapters to figure this out:
DEFINITIONS:
Magical Guardian. Always a wizard. A magical guardian controls the life of his wards. A boy is subjected to such guardianship until age 17. A girl is subject to it until she is bonded to a wizard in any manner (or becomes a Consort). The magical guardian can bind his wards into marriage contracts or sell his witches as concubines. It is the father, if the father is a wizard. If a child has no wizard father, it can be decided by Will. Otherwise, it vests in the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
Marriage. Any legal or magical reciprocal bonding between a man and a woman intended to be permanent and created either for love or family. This is a form of contractual relationship differentiated only by the nature of the contract.
Marriage at Law. This is not a magical bond. It is analogous to non-magical marriages. The magical elites favor this over magical bond because magical bond are seen to inhibit the Wizard. In an at law marriage, his wife cannot have control over him, whereas under a magical bond, they are truly one. It is also used by lower classes, since the conditions for formation of a magical bond are rather severe and, particularly among Muggle Borns, the rite is - unnerving. Like us, this is a union that can end in divorce or annulment.
Consort Bond. A magical bond between a witch and a man. It is predicated upon love and it is mutual. This bond is always initiated by the witch and must be openly accepted by the man to take hold. They must love each other and be willing to subordinate themselves to the other. The bonding is a sexual ritual (hence Muggle Born reluctance). The result is a union that has never broken. This is a bond that if entered into voids all unexecuted contracts for marriage or concubines. The bond suppresses certain aspects of free will in both parties, namely their desire for sex outside of their bond. A wizard can have more than one woman, but not without his Consort's knowledge or consent. (He won't even be attracted to them otherwise.) In this regard, the wizard does have more freedom (provided she gives him that) as the witch will never desire or accept another mate. This bond truly is for life and cannot be (nor has it ever been) broken.
Concubine Bond. The magical guardian of a young witch can sell her off as a concubine. For all practical purposes, this is a slave. She is bound involuntarily to a wizard and short of harming herself, will do whatever her "Master" wants. This bond came into being because there were far more witches than wizards and while it might be possible in such a "target rich" dating environment for the wizard to find his life mate, the witches were not so lucky. This bond was to make sure a witch did not need to get hitched to a Muggle (and risk being burned or worse) as she could be bound to a wizard as a member of his family. The bond became perverted with the rise of Pureblood ideals and was turned into a means for subjugating Muggle Borns and for the baser pleasures of Pureblood Masters. (In other words, the concubines became the magical sex trade and were the working women of the brothels.)
The bonding is, for lack of a better word, a form of ritualized rape as in most cases the witch is not consenting to the bond.
However, the bond is what the wizard makes it and can become a reciprocal, love based bond if they both desire it, in which case it is almost legally and magically indistinguishable from marriage (and should it take that form, the wizard will not be inclined to share his witch for profit or otherwise).
The Bond is permanent. The witch will always be a concubine. Her bond cannot be broken, only transferred to another wizard.
In the best cases, it really doesn't matter. In the worst (and most cases are) it's just sick.
LOVE BOND. A rite between a concubine and a wizard that transforms their bond into a bond similar to that of a Consort. Where the bond is performed, the Concubine becomes the wife and her Master becomes her Husband. She must love him and he must love her in order for the bond to form.
CONCLUSION OF INTRODUCTION
That being said, Harry will have both Concubines and Consorts. What he does with them … read on.
At the end of each chapter there will be a note of the current Harem(s) so you can keep track. Each chapter will also have a note at the beginning if they are individually rated M as to why. So again, THIS FIC IS RATED M. If you're not old enough, STOP NOW.
CHAPTER ONE: DECEPTION
SATURDAY, JUNE 22, 1996, Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey UK
Fifteen year old Harry Potter lay in his bed pissed off at the entire world. It was his first day back from boarding school and it had arguably been the worst year of his entire life, which was saying a lot because the boy had a pretty rotten life before hand. He hated Privet Drive and the relatives whom he lived with. He had come to live with his Aunt and Uncle when he was fifteen months old and his life had sucked pretty much ever since.
He had absolutely no fond memories of his childhood. From as early as he can remember, he had been physically abused by his Uncle and later by his Cousin, mentally abused by the whole ruddy family and neglected and malnourished. He didn't know his own name until he first went to Primary School. Until then, he thought he was "Boy" or "Freak." Food for him was a luxury until then and it was only being sent to school that had resulted in him getting much to eat at all.
At age eleven, he found out his entire life had been one big lie. The revelation came when he learned that he was a wizard, that his parents had died defending him from an evil wizard and not in a car crash following a week long drinking binge and that he was going to learn magic. Still, it now seemed to Harry that every time some truth about him was revealed there were more lies to discover. Ever since he learned his relatives had been lying to them he had been hoping against hope he would never have to return, yet every fucking year he found himself back in the smallest bedroom on the street, locked in, staring at the ceiling and being isolated from anyone who actually liked him.
Up until now, last summer had been the worst. He witnessed the return of the most evil wizard in history, fought the bastard to a standstill, watched another student die needlessly and reported the events to not just his Headmaster but the Minister for Magic himself. What happens? He's sent back to this shit hole and learns that no one is allowed to write or say anything to him about anything that was happening outside the four walls. The Ministry and Wizarding Press brand him an insane liar. A vindictive ministry bitch sets him up and the Minister for Magic uses his act of self defense as an excuse to try and get him chucked into prison. His Headmaster, whom he trusted, ignores him all year and refuses to tell him why. Even when he was reunited with his Godfather and friends, he was certain they weren't telling him everything.
He gets back to school and finds the vindictive bitch who tried to chuck him in prison is now one of his teachers. He also learns she's into torture and now has the scars to prove it. He gets kicked off the Quidditch Team, which was the only thing left that he enjoyed. Most of the school believes he's insane and the number of people who do not could be counted on one hand. He makes the mistake of going out with a girl who only wanted to be with him to learn how her last boyfriend had died. He suffered through months of supposedly important Occlumency lessons, designed to protect his mind from magical attack from the evil wizard, but given by the one teacher at school he actually hated and who he was convinced hated him. The lessons had not worked and Harry was convinced the git was actually doing the opposite of what he was led to believe: making it easier for the evil bastard to attack.
He then gets tricked into rescuing his Godfather who was just fine. He gets drawn into a trap and drags his only friends with him. It was only by a miracle that none of them were killed, but all of them were injured, two of them severely. Worst of all, his Godfather comes to help him as he's in a fight with Death Eaters, all bent of killing him and his friends, and gets killed for caring about Harry - a theme in his rotten life.
After what the papers were now calling the Battle at the Department of Mysteries, he has a long "chat" with his Headmaster. If the old bastard had not been lying to him all these years, he had been withholding vital information, clouding the issues with half truths and otherwise proving the geezer could not be trusted. Harry had been livid. Worse, he learned about a Prophecy, one which had resulted in his parents being killed and his hell for a life. He was supposed to be some god damned superhero sent to save the world from the evil wizard, according to the prophecy. He never wanted that. All he wanted was a normal life. Now he's some kind of savior who, he thought, is probably dead meat. Yeah, he'll beat the bastard and kill him once and for all, but he'll probably die in the process. His reaction to this hell? He practically destroyed the Headmaster's office. While it felt good at the time, it did not change a fucking thing.
What almost topped it all off was that even though Harry wanted to be with friends right now having lost one of the true father figures in his life, what's the Old Man do? Disregards his wishes and chucks him right back into this prison, for that's what Privet Drive really was, a cage to keep him "safe." Blood Wards my ASS!, Harry thought. They work on love? There isn't an ounce of that in this fucking house! At first he accepted this fate. It was only for a month or so, just until his sixteenth Birthday and then he could leave and spend the rest of the summer with the Weasleys. Then, the thought crossed his mind.
If this place was the only place he could be safe from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, then why the hell was he allowed to leave AT ALL? He knew he was being lied to again. He just could not figure out what the lie was trying to cover.
Just when Harry thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. Following his raging fit in the Headmaster's Office, he went to the hospital wing to check on his friends. Three of them had been released, but his two best friends were still unconscious.
Ron Weasley had an encounter with unknown magic that had messed with his brain and Madam Pomphrey did not know if the damage was temporary or permanent. If it was permanent, Ron would spend the rest of his life in a hospital.
The curse that Harry thought had killed Hermione Granger had nearly done just that. She would recover. Still, she would be lucky to go home with the rest of the school in a few days. For the rest of the term Harry never left her side. He held her hand and talked to her day and night, just as he had done Second Year when she lay in the Hospital petrified from an attack by a Basilisk. As he sat there, he remembered that time. He remembered her Third Year, Fourth Year and this year. He remembered what he had felt when he saw her get hit by that curse and thought she was dead.
She was the one person who was always there for him, even when he didn't want her to be. She always stood up for him and beside him. She always went out of the way to help him. The few times he had ever been angry with her, it was because she had tried to help him and keep him safe when he was just being selfish. He thought about it. Ron was not that way at all. The bastard had all but disowned him when he got into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He was always jealous of Harry: jealous of his fame; jealous of the fact Harry had money; jealous of the fact that Harry had actually kissed a girl; jealous of the fact that if Harry wanted he could probably shag any girl at Hogwarts. Hermione knew he wanted none of that. She understood him perhaps better than he understood himself. She was the only person who could hug him or kiss him without making him feel uncomfortable at all. True, they had never actually snogged, but she had kissed him on the cheek more times that he could count, going all the way back to First Year.
He thought long and hard about that as she lay there. He thought about the fact that both his friends might be on their death beds, and yet he needed to be by Hermione's side. Why? It then hit him like a ton of bricks. He loved her. He loved her and only her. Since when? Since First Year, he figured. Second year for certain, he knew. Did she love him too? He knew that she did. She never acted the way she did for and around him with anyone, and all of that, the help, support, hugs, kisses, touching, that was not a sister and brother thing, that was an "I love you" thing. He had just been too stupid and self absorbed to see that the most wonderful girl he knew, the one that he loved more than life itself, loved him right back. That ends now! He thought. As soon as she wakes up, I'm going to tell her and ask her to be my girl! And if it means Ron never speaks to me again, he can just sod off!
TUESDAY, JUNE 18, 1996, Hospital Wing, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Ron had woken up the day before. Despite that, Harry all but ignored him. He was too worried about Hermione. He could feel Ron glaring at him has he sat next to Hermione, holding her hand, brushing her impossible brown hair, begging her to come back to him. He didn't care. He didn't care that Ron all but freaked that Harry had only left her side to use the loo and had slept in the chair next to her since the previous Saturday night, the night of the Battle. He didn't care what Ron thought about it!
Harry was sleeping beside Hermione's bed when she awoke. She felt someone holding her hand and looked in surprise at who it was. She could see that it looked like he had been there for days. 'He loves me,' her heart screamed. 'He's here! He's with me! I'm not alone! I - I know I love him too!'
"Harry?" she whispered.
"Mmmm," a grumble came back.
"I love you, Harry," she whispered again.
"Love you too," the still sleeping boy murmured. "Always have," he added. "Marry me, Hermione?"
"WHAT?" Ron yelled.
Harry was startled out of his perfect dream. "What?" he said.
"Oi! You asked her to marry you?" Ron almost yelled, "you asked my girl to marry you?"
"Your girl?" Hermione almost shrieked, "what the bloody hell are you talking about, Ronald!"
"You are," Ronald said. "Your mine, so Harry hands off!"
"Look Ronald, that's not how it works!"
"Really? I think it does!"
"What makes you think I'm your girl?"
"I like you. End of story. I like you and Harry gets everything."
"You're such an idiot! It's not 'end of story!' What makes you think I would even want to be your girl? You can barely stand me! We fight all the time!"
"But that's the fun of it," Ron began.
"It's not fun to me, Ronald! It hurts! It shows me you have no respect for me, my feelings, my thoughts, my dreams, nothing. You're a fucking lazy bastard too! You seem to expect me to do your homework for you and…"
"You help Harry too!"
"He always asks, and it's different. I don't do his work, I look it over! You expect me to do it for you! You usually don't bother to ask at all and the only time that you do is if we've just had a row! You think I want that in my life? You think I need that? You ignore me in public! You eat like a pig! There's nothing about you that would argue in favor of being your girl.
"AND! If you must know, Ronald. I love Harry."
"Like a brother," Ron started.
"No Ron. Not like that. Harry asked me to marry him. Do you want to know my answer?"
"No."
"TOO BAD! My answer is YES!"
"Really?" both Harry and Ron asked, Harry in joy and surprise, and Ron in shock and anger.
"BUT, he'll have to be my boyfriend first and not until we've finished school, but otherwise YES!"
"Fine," Ron snarled. Neither Harry or Hermione heard him mutter under his breath: "This isn't over. Hermione's mine!"
"I love you," Harry whispered to his new girlfriend.
"Oh shut up and kiss me, Harry," Hermione said with a smile. To her delight he did. She actually thought she felt her heart stop for a moment. She had never kissed a boy like this on the lips before. It was wonderful! She moaned slightly. Amazing, she thought, considering Harry's grand total of romantic kisses before was one, a few months back with Cho Chang. Maybe it comes natural for him, she thought. And if he's this good at kissing, WOW! She thought as she moaned again.
"Wow," they both said when they finally came back for air. For the first time since he had known her, he heard Hermione actually giggle.
"We need to do that more often," Harry offered.
"Well, it's not like I'm going anywhere, Love," Hermione giggled
again. Harry took the hint.
This time when they broke apart, Hermione bit her lip and gazed into her new boyfriend's eyes. "Um Harry," she said nervously.
"Yes?"
"Um, I know how you hate going to your relatives in the Summer and … well … I kind of wrote Mum and Dad and asked if you could spend the Holidays with us."
"You did?"
Hermione nodded. "And they agreed! Isn't that wonderful?" Harry's face fell. "Harry, what's wrong? I think it's a brilliant plan!"
"It is Hermione," Harry replied, "it's just that…damn that bastard!"
"Who? Voldemort?"
"No, Dumbledore!"
"Dumbledore?"
"He says I have no choice! I have to go back to the Dursleys. No choice at all!"
"Why?"
"It's the only place where I'm safe, he says. I think he's full of it, but there's nothing I can do. Whole damn Order is going to make sure I go there and stay there 'til my birthday and then it's off to the Burrow."
"Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione said.
"Not your fault."
"No. But I'm still sorry. I got my hopes up and all…"
"Hermione, we'll think of something."
"I suppose."
"But, in case we don't, we might as well stock up on kissing to tide us over for the next month or so."
"I like the way you think, Potter," Hermione said pulling him back to her.
The two kept snogging until Madam Pomphrey chased Harry from the Hospital Wing a few hours later, but not before Harry promised to "practice" with Hermione the whole train ride back to London.
SATURDAY, JUNE 22, 1996, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey UK
It could have been the best vacation of his life. He could have spent the entire summer with Hermione and explored this new relationship they had. It should have been the best train ride of his life with his old yet new girlfriend in his arms and her lips against his. Neville and Luna seemed perfectly at ease with the new direction Harry and Hermione were taking, perhaps even supportive, not that Harry or Hermione bothered to ask. They had more pressing things to do with their mouths. What put a damper on their fun were Ron and Ginny. The few times Harry took a break from those luscious lips, he could see them glaring at him and Hermione. It made things uncomfortable enough that Harry decided not to take too many breaks and Hermione did not seem to mind in the slightest.
Now, he was stuck here in this prison on orders of his Headmaster. He would be here for at least a month if the old bastard had his way. After that, he would be at the Weasleys where, fair bet, either Hermione would not be invited or they would not be allowed any cuddle time, much less any serious alone time. Hermione seemed as devastated about the turn of events as Harry had been and even hinted, had things been different, Harry would have gotten a sixteenth birthday present from her he would never, ever forget.
"You?" he remembered asking.
She nodded and smiled. "All of me," she whispered back.
"Damn it all, girl! Why tell me this now?"
"Motivation," she smiled.
"Motivation?"
"To figure away to come and get me, silly."
"Ohhhh!" Harry realized. "At last, something to do! You're really wonderful, you know."
"Took you long enough."
"Only to tell you, Love. I've known all this time."
Yeah, Harry thought. But first I need to figure out what is really going on with my life. Questions. He had so many questions he wanted answered. Dumbledore had seemed to answer many of them, but the more Harry thought about it, the more he realized there were so many pieces missing. The answers seemed random and even contradictory, as if the Old Man was merely trying to appease him without telling him anything of consequence. It was bloody infuriating!
Harry went over to his small desk and took out a notepad and regular Muggle pen he had bought ages ago but had never used. He was certain they might have been in his stuff since even before first went off to Hogwarts. Fortunately, the pen worked:
QUESTIONS:
Number 1: Godrics Hollow.
How could Dumbledore not know Pettigrew was a Death Eater? The man's a master of Legillimency! It's possible that Pettigrew didn't become one until long after my parents were in hiding and never ran into the old man, still.
Why Pettigrew? Sirius said he was the obvious choice, but that made Pettigrew a better choice. Yet I met the man! He's a bloody coward!
What kinds of protections were on that place? Were there others that could have been used and weren't and if not why not?
Why were there no guards? I've got guards! Can't see them, but I hear them out there!
Number 2: After.
Sirius Black goes to prison without a trial? All you had to do was look at his left forearm! He's not a marked Death Eater! Besides, with Veritaserum and Legilimency, they could have found the truth! Instead, he rots for twelve years and his case remained untried. What the bloody hell was Dumbledore doing as head of the Wizengamot?
Number 3: Privet Drive.
Dumbledore said something about wards. But he also said for them to work I have to see this dump as my "home." I've never seen it as a home! Never! Prison, yes, home? No. So I guess there are no wards then.
Surely I could have been sent to someone else! Did my parents actually want me here? Did they even have a say? If not, why not?
Mrs. Figg is here to keep an eye on me, or so she said, for Dumbledore. I went there often over the years, battered and bruised and underfed. I thought her a bit mental, but she always patched me up and made me feel better. Didn't Dumbledore know? She must have told him. So then why didn't he do anything about it?
And shouldn't the fact that my first Hogwarts Letter was addressed to me in the Cupboard Under The Stairs have screamed investigation?
Number 4: My Entry Into the Wizarding World.
Why was it that when I entered the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley for the first time, everybody knew who I was practically? Did I have some flashing neon sign on my head that I didn't know about that said: "Look at me! I'm Harry Fucking Potter?" I had lived in the Muggle World for 10 years! Before that, I was in hiding with my parents! There's no way I should have be known. True, there is the scar, but it's not THAT noticeable, is it?
Same thing on the train! Everybody seemed to know who I was. I could understand Ron - maybe. He grew up hearing those fucked up stories about me. But Hermione? She recognized me right off! She'd been a Muggle her whole life!! Well, at least she didn't make a fuss like everyone else - yet one of the many reasons I fell for her!
Speaking about the train. How come Hagrid never told me how to get onto the Platform? Why'd I have to wait until I got lucky enough to run into a wizarding family? Hermione never told me she had that problem too. And is it just me, or was it merely a coincidence that it was the Weasleys?
Number 5: First Year.
Fool me once, shame on you! Fool me twice, shame on me! Okay, maybe Dumbledore didn't have a chance to discover Pettigrew was a Death Eater, but Quirrell? How could he not know Quirrell was sharing his body with Voldemort? He had to have known, which begs the question why didn't he do anything? Why'd he leave it to me to kill the son-of-a-bitch? Bit much for an eleven year old, don't you think?
Next, Hagrid said there's no place safer than Gringotts, 'cept maybe Hogwarts. Safe my arse! Why would any idiot hide the most coveted magical item in history in a bloody school full of curious and nosey children? Dumbledore was trying to keep it from Voldie-Squirrel, and he hides it so well! How does he protect it? With traps that three First Years easily got past! That makes a lot of sense!
And was Hagrid in on the fix? Seems every time we were stumped, he'd drop us a clue, and yet he can keep secrets when he wants to…
Number 6: The Fucking Prophesy!
Okay, so I only learned about this one recently. But it seems apt to bring it up now. According to that rubbish, I am the only person in the world who can defeat Voldemort. True, there is some proof of this. I have either defeated or fought some version of the sod to a standstill five times! Still, one would think I'd receive some kind of training to be the evil wizard killer, right? It seems every year I get into a tussle with the Sod, yet do I get any training? The only training I've had was on my own or with Hermione! (One more reason why I love her - actually almost all my training is with her!)
Number 7: Second Year.
I'd like to give Dumbledore some credit for not being able to control this one, but I can't. He fucking knew the Chamber of Secrets was real! And don't tell me he had no idea what was down there! Hermione figured that one out with the scant information we had! He knew Slytherin was a Parselmouth and that Tom was one too. He knew that until this year the Chamber had only opened when there was a Parselmouth at school. He knew that it had never been found by anyone else.
Conclusion? The Chamber was hidden by some charm that could only be opened by a Parselmouth. It wasn't even pass worded! The word "open" was all that was required. AND, he knew I was one too! He could have told me that! He could have told me there was a sixty foot long basilisk lurking down there that was three times as tall as I was when it reared up! He could have told me the easy way to kill the ruddy snake. (Crowing Roosters) No! At twelve I had to run the beast through with a sword! Damn near snuffed it right then and there!
Is that why he seemed surprised to see me when we got out? Did he think I was going to die?
And what was with that glean he had when he saw Riddle's Diary?
Number 8: The Wards Again!
Let's see: Summer after first year I spend a month at the Weasleys. After second, a month in Diagon Alley - like that's bloody safe! Third, we spent part of the time at the Weasleys and the rest at the Quidditch World Cup that was crawling with Death Eaters. Christmas that year at the Weasleys! Fourth summer and this past Christmas at Grimmauld Place. If the Wards at Privet Drive are so damned important, why am I not here all the time when away from school?
Number 9: Third Year.
Two questions:
First, how could the Weasleys and by extension Dumbledore not be suspicious of Scabbers? They had that rat for twelve years when the life expectancy of a rat is four at the most! (Hermione looked that one up. What would I do without her? Die, most like.)
Second, this was the Year that I lost any hope or faith in the Magical government (as if last summer was not a clue?) When they caught Sirius, a man not even formally charged (Hermione looked that up) much less convicted of anything, they were going to have him summarily and immediately put to death. Call it what you like, having your soul sucked out is execution! At least Dumbledork allowed us to prevent that miscarriage of justice. But did he do more? Head of the Wizengamot, the high court, the legislature? NO!
Then there's Remus. Best teacher I had in Defense bar none. Only one who tried to really help me. Forced to resign for a minor and controllable medical condition that never impacted his abilities as a teacher! Fucking Malfoys! Who died and made them king? If it were me, the lot of them would be flogged!
Number 10: Fourth Year.
Where do I begin?
Quidditch World Cup! A handful of drunk Death Eaters against tens of thousands and not one of them is even captured? Had this happened in the Real World, none of them would be alive. If the fans didn't kill the lot with their bare hands, the cops would have put so many bullets into them that their remains would have needed to be scooped up with a shovel! Far as I know, I can't put direct blame on Dumbledore for that fiasco! Fuck the Wizarding World. Bunch of bloody cowards the lot of them! They proclaim me a Savior when it suits them. God helps those who help themselves! The more I think about it, the more I want to leave them behind and let them ROT! (Provided I can take Hermione with me, of course. She's the only person in this world worth saving!)
Moody. Supposed to be one of Dumbledore's oldest friends and yet Barty Crouch, Jr. is able to fool the old geezer for a year? Bullshit!
Tri-Wizard: McGonagall demanded an investigation! Dumbledore shot her down. Decided to see how things went! Damn it, I never wanted to be a part of that! NEVER! I thought you had to assent to a magical contract in SOME manner!
(My BIG mistake was not asking Hermione to the Yule Ball. Damn was she beautiful that night!)
Still, one would think I'd get a little help. Okay, I did - from Hermione.
Second Task: What bloody sick ass bastard thought Ron was the one thing I'd miss the most. Damn it! Had Krum not rescued her, I would have AND I WOULD HAVE AND LEFT RON BEHIND! Something tells be the sick ass bastard was Dumbledore.
Cedric Diggory. Why does his death bother me? I didn't actually kill him. Pettigrew did. I've killed two men already and never even think about them at all. I certainly don't dream about their deaths. I didn't even know Cedric. I guess it's because I couldn't stop the obvious. Perhaps Hermione's right, I got a saving people thing.
We had just portkeyed into God knows where. I was already injured and had a bad landing and blew out my knew. I was disoriented, in pain and hadn't time to get a lay for the battlefield at all. I told Cedric to get out, 'cause I couldn't help him and knew it, and he had to act the part of the hero and stand his ground and get snuffed! I barely remember getting back. Voldemort was back and Cedric was dead. His parents were - it was a total loss for them. I guess that's why it still haunts me.
This is War. In War there are only two rules:
Rule One: People die.
Rule Two: You can't change Rule One.
Why don't I want to believe that? (And why doesn't Dumbledore and the others know that Rule One is and absolute? It's KILL OR BE KILLED, PERIOD!) From now on, no prisoners! No mercy! The enemy has two choices from me: unconditional surrender or death! If the rest of the Wizarding World thinks otherwise, LET THEM ROT!
Harry stopped and closed the notebook. He was tired and would leave the rest of his questions for later. For now, he picked up a quill and parchment to write a letter to Hermione.
My Dearest Hermione:
Did I tell you I love you?
You are the reason I wake up in the mornings and the reason I continue on through this madness. Without you, none of this is worth it. I do love you so much and would rather be kissing you and holding you than thinking about it while I write.
I've been thinking of things while I've been missing you so terribly. Yes, it's only been a few hours. Damn it, this summer could have been PERFECT! But I'm stuck here!
I've been thinking about things. Things that make no sense. I will tell you, Love, but I've only just begun to try and make some kind of sense about them. I promise, soon, I will send you my thoughts on this. Okay?
I'm also trying to think of ways for us to be together even if only for a little while this summer. Keep faith in me, Love, I've only just begun to think of - possibilities. My fear is that when I am released from this prison, I'll be sent to Weasley hell. I fear that this year, you will receive no invite. Don't know about you, but Ron and Ginny seemed a bit off. Regardless, it is my intention to be with you this summer and for the rest of my life! Count on it! (And I mean the rest of a real life! Decades and decades of us!)
I pray that I dream of you tonight and always.
I love you!
Harry.
P.S: I have a really bad feeling, Hermione. Something's up with Ron and I don't know what it is but I don't like it. Please promise me you will not go to the Weasleys unless you know I am already there. Please, Hermione? I couldn't live with myself if something were to happen that I could have stopped.
Harry put the letter into an envelope and opened the large bird cage looking at the snowy owl inside that had been watching him with interest. The owl hopped out of the cage and onto Harry's shoulder and seemed to hold her leg out. Harry tied the letter to its leg.
"It's for Hermione, Hedwig," Harry said. "Wait for the reply."
Hedwig gave a low hoot and flew out the open window of Harry's bedroom and into the night.
A/N: RELATIONSHIP SCORECARD:
If you didn't read the Intro, you missed that. This is so you can keep up with who's with who and how.
Harry James Potter, age 15 (born 7/31/80)Hermione Jane Granger, age 16 (9/19/79). Girlfriend/fiancé as of 6/18/96.
CHAPTER TWO: ESCAPING THE LIES
SUNDAY, JUNE 23, 1996, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey UK
Nymphadora Tonks was a twenty-one and almost twenty-two year old witch. She had hated her first name all her life and preferred to be called "Tonks." Family and close friends were allowed to call her "Dora." Only her Mum called her by that other name and only when she was angry.
Tonks was a metamorphagus, which was a rare magical ability that allowed her to change her appearance at will. She had mastered this gift and could so alter her appearance as to be unrecognizable. If she touched the bare skin of any person and allowed her magic to connect with them, she could assume their form exactly and on command. It was a very useful gift to have in her line of work. She was an Auror, a hunter of Dark Wizards for the Ministry of Magic. Undercover work and disguises were an essential part of her job and although she had only been a full qualified Auror for less than two years, she was the best in the Department at undercover work.
She was also a member of the Order of the Phoenix. She joined within days of Voldemort's return to physical form. As a member of the Order, she did what was asked to help prevent Voldemort from gaining power or followers. In her case, this included passing classified Ministry materials on to the Order, a crime which, should she get caught, could land her in Azkaban Prison for a very long time. But she and some others took the risk for they believed the Ministry's do nothing attitude would be the ruin of all.
Right now, she was working for the Order. Her mission was simple. She was to keep an eye on the one person the Order was intent on protecting for now: Harry Potter. It turned out, this would allow her to accomplish her most important mission, one which neither the Ministry nor the Order knew anything about.
She stood in Harry's bedroom. She was in her true form for once. She stood five foot seven, with shoulder length, light brown hair. She usually morphed her breasts into a smaller size. She felt that her ample bust got more attention than she did. Tonight, her bust was it's normal, rather large size. She had an excellent, if slightly top-heavy figure thanks to the physical exercise required of Aurors. She was wearing "Muggle Attire." It was a casual summer outfit with a low cut tee shirt and shorts that revealed her shapely legs. She wore trainers with ankle socks on her feet. She also had a handbag.
She had come to wake the sleeping teen up. But in the light from her wand, she noticed the notebook on the desk. She read through the questions and suppositions of the young man sleeping but a couple of feet away.
Very perceptive, she thought. This might go easier than we had hoped. She then looked at the sleeping boy. No one should have been forced to live your life, young Harry. You should have either had a normal life or you should have been trained to fulfill this horrible destiny. Your questions and more will be answered really soon, although I am afraid you will not like the truth one bit. Your life in the dark is over, young Master. You shall soon enter the light. She placed the notebook in the handbag.
It was time to wake the boy and lead him towards a new path in life.
Harry was having, without a doubt, the strangest dream he could remember. It was odd, wonderful and highly erotic. He was with Hermione, always a nice thought. It was Third Year again, maybe. They were riding on the back of the Hippogriff named Buckbeak, just as they had when they rescued Sirius from impending execution. However, this time was different. First of all, they were both naked. Secondly, they were making love as Buckbeak flew through the skies. Cool, Harry thought and then the dream vanished.
"Harry!" a woman's voice called. Harry could feel a hand shaking his shoulder. "Harry! Wake up!" the voice called urgently.
"Whaaa?" Harry groaned having been yanked out of that wonderful if strange dream. He opened his eyes knowing he would see nothing clearly without his glasses. The first thing he did see was the light source. He knew what it was: wand light, most likely a Lumos or light spell. That meant whoever this was, she was a witch and she was not supposed to be here. Instinctively, he reached for the top of his head board where he kept his want while sleeping. It wasn't there. He then reached for his glasses and put them on and looked at the strange woman for the first time. He recognized her.
"Tonks?"
"Wotcher, Harry! Looking for this?" Tonks asked handing Harry his wand. He looked a little surprised and put out. "I am an Auror, you know. I wasn't about to wake an armed wizard who was not expecting me. You'd've hexed me for sure."
"Suppose."
"Top of the headboard, Harry?" she said shaking her head. "Too easy. Under the pillow is best. They'll likely wake you before disarming you. Remember what Moody says."
"Can't forget," Harry nodded. "Constant vigilance. Um - what are you doing here?"
"Getting you out of here," Tonks replied.
"What? But Dumbledore said I had to stay here for at least a month!"
"Do you believe everything Dumbledore tells you?" Tonks asked remembering the note pad that was now in her hand bag.
"Used to," Harry mumbled. "Now, I don't know."
"Well don't! This place isn't safe! You're in danger here!"
"What kind of danger?"
"Mortal danger!"
"But there are wards on this place," Harry complained.
"What wards?"
"Well, Dumbledore said…"
"Harry, I'm a fully qualified Auror. I can detect warding quite easily and aside from the fact that this place is unplottable, there isn't a single defensive ward on this house!"
"But Dumbledore said something about blood wards! He said he cast one because of my Mum and her sacrifice!"
"Can't say if he did or not," Tonks replied. "Blood wards?"
Harry nodded.
"Did he add that they're illegal?"
"What?"
"They are Harry. Not quite Unforgivable, but close. And no, there are no blood wards on this house. I would have detected one. If he did cast one it never took hold."
"No surprise there," Harry said. "He said that if I considered this pit a home, the wards would work. I've never considered this a home. Prison? Sure. A living hell? Definitely! A home? Never."
"So there you go," Tonks said. "Now let's quit yapping and get packing. Get up and dressed!"
"Could you," Harry began, "could you turn around, please?"
"Why? You sleep in the nick?"
"Er, no, but…" Harry blushed unwilling to tell Tonks that he had not recovered from the dream and had a raging erection. "I just sleep in my boxers and…"
"There's nothing I haven't seen, Harry."
"Tonks PLEASE," Harry pleaded.
"Fine," she said turning around. "But if you try and do a runner on me, I'll hex that hard bit right off!"
Was it that obvious, Harry wondered. But Tonks did turn and Harry gathered up some clothes and dressed. When he was done he told Tonks she could turn around. She looked at him and again wondered what was up with him. Unless he was wearing a Hogwarts uniform or tee shirt or a Molly Weasley Jumper, she had long noted his clothes were, as now, several sizes too large.
"What's that rubbish you're wearing?" she asked.
"Clothes."
"Been diving bins for your rags? Those are way too large for you, you know."
"Cousin Dudley's hand-me-downs," Harry said with embarrassment.
"Let me guess," Tonks replied. "He's either one fat fuck or loads older than you, right?"
"Hagrid tried to turn him into a pig when I first learned I was a wizard. I guess fat fuck."
"You have any clothes that fit?"
"Aside from school uniforms, no."
"I see. Okay then. Open your trunk. If there are any Dudley clothes in there, get rid of them all. All except two or three changes worth that is. We'll deal with your wardrobe tomorrow. Then I want you to gather up anything in this room that is either magical or even hints of magical and our world and put it into your trunk."
Harry did as he was told, emptying the trunk of most of Dudley's hand-me-downs. He scoured the room for anything that hinted of magic. Notes, letters, books, quills, empty bottles of potion ingredients, presents from his friends, pictures all made their way into the trunk. He checked under his bed, in the wardrobe, the desk and dresser and even under the loose floorboard. He also included anything else he wanted to bring even if it was not magical, which included a collection of nudie magazines he had nicked from Dudley who had, in turn, nicked from his father. He did not notice whether Tonks had seen this addition to his trunk. She had as a smile crossed her face.
After ten minutes, Harry announced he was finished. He was instructed to sit on his trunk and then Tonks sat beside him.
"Take my hand," she said. Harry did as he was told and she interlaced their fingers. Her hand felt warm in his and he almost immediately felt two waves of warmth course through his body. Before he could think of what had happened, Tonks asked if he was ready. Harry nodded.
Harry had traveled by many forms of magical transport before. The first, arguably was when Hagrid used magic to propel a small boat from the island where Harry's Uncle had taken him to avoid his going to Hogwarts. The second, arguably was the Hogwarts express, but it looked like, sounded like and felt like a normal steam locomotive with passenger carriages. Harry really did not consider those truly magical.
His first truly magical transport was when he learned to ride a broom. It was kind of like riding a bicycle, except he didn't have to pedal and the broom actually flew in the air. Harry, it seemed, was a natural at it. His natural talent landed him on his House Quidditch team, the youngest player in over a hundred years. He loved flying. Arguably that was why he also loved flying on the back of a Hippogriff his Third Year and just over a week ago on the back of a Thestral. Hermione, on the other hand, hated flying. Well, magical flying. Harry knew she and her parents traveled a lot and she had been on airplane, something Harry had never done.
Harry considered his first real magical transport experience was the Floo Network. This occurred before his second year when he was staying with the Weasleys at the end of the summer and they went to Diagon Alley in London. One stood in an over sized fireplace, stated ones destination, threw some magic powder to the ground and disappeared in a flash of green flames. It was always a very disorienting experience and no matter how often he did it when he came out the other end at another fireplace he invariable landed either on his bum or his stomach.
Harry had traveled by portkey on three occasions. He didn't like that method much either. A portkey was an enchanted object that at a specific time would transport one or many to a specific location. It was a very uncomfortable way to travel. When it activated, he felt as if there was a fishhook just behind his navel tugging him and the world would spin out of control. This was another method that usually left him with a sore bum.
Harry had apparated once by accident when he was little and long before he learned he was a wizard. He only knew that was what had happened when Mr. Weasley described what apparition felt like. One had the feeling of being squeezed through a straw. Apparition had advantages as one did not need a fireplace or a specially enchanted object to jump from one place to another. But Harry was told it was perhaps the most dangerous way to travel magically. Supposedly they would learn how to do it next year sometime. If they did well enough they would get a license from the Ministry that would allow them to apparate at will. Without a license apparition was illegal.
Whatever had just happened, it was not any form of magical transport Harry had ever experienced or even heard of. In the blink of an eye, his small room in Privet Drive disappeared and this massive room filled with chandeliers, exotic plants and chairs and couches appeared around him. The room was larger that his Aunt and Uncle's entire house Harry was convinced. What also struck him was that he had not felt a thing.
"What just happened?" Harry asked. "Where are we?"
Tonks decided to ignore the first question. "Harry, this is Potter Manor."
"What? P-Potter Manor?"
"You're ancestral home, Harry."
"What?"
"The Potters have lived on these lands for well over a thousand years, Harry. This manor is a little over three hundred years old. Your father as his fathers before him grew up here. Had things been different, had they been right, you would have grown up here as well."
"Why didn't I? Am I safe here?"
"There are as of now only three people in the outside world who know of this place, Harry. You are one. Remus is another and I am the third. Sirius knew of this place too, but…"
"It's safe?"
"Safer than any place on earth, Harry."
"Is this Godrics Hollow?"
"Goodness no! That's hundreds of miles from here."
"Then why were my parents there and not here?"
"In the morning, Harry, I promise. It's after three and we both need our sleep. Follow me."
Harry followed her as she led him through the manor and to a flight of the largest stairs he had ever seen. The place screamed wealth. The Potters, his ancestors had been quite wealthy for a long time.
"The ground floor are the public rooms," Tonks explained. "The room where we arrived is called the Conservatory, a nice place for tea I'm told. You have what is probably one of the largest libraries in magical Britain. There are several parlors and such, a room for formal receptions, a music room, several game rooms, a bar that is said to look like an English Pub, a large Concert Room, Drawing Room, a Ballroom, an informal dinning hall that is said to seat up to five hundred and a formal banquet hall that seats close to two hundred at the same table. There's an enclosed walkway that leads from the main Manor to the gym, indoor pool and the outdoor pool.
"The main stair we are on leads to the First, Second and Third Floors. First Floor are the Private Apartments of the Lord of the Manor. That's where you'll be staying. There's the Lord's suite, which includes your Study, a Sitting Room, huge closets, a bathroom that I'm told is huge, and your Bedchambers. From your Bedchambers, a door leads to the Mistress Suite. There's another Sitting Room, a Nursery, the Mistress Bedchamber, her dressing room, closets and bath. I'm told that the last Lord who lived here slept with his wife, as opposed to custom where they maintained separate rooms. There's several bedrooms for children. There's also a children's library, classroom and large play rooms, a conference room, another music room and a couple of parlors as well. There's also a large Common Room for the family and the family dining room.
"Second and Third Floors have the Guest Rooms, forty suites in all. There's also a Common Room for the Guests and a large dinning room. Fourth floor is accessed by three smaller stair cases. Those are the servants' quarters.
"Your estate is measured from the center of the conservatory, Milord. The front of the Manor faces east and the front gate is four miles from the center of the conservatory…"
"Four miles!"
"Yes, Milord. Your north and south property lines are each five miles from the center of the conservatory. Your west property line is on the coast, sixteen miles from here, although it is twenty-four from here to your south boundary and nine miles from here to your north due to the coast line."
"Bloody hell! And this is safe?"
"Indeed. The wards that protect this place are even better than those at Hogwarts. Ancient, they are. Goblin, Elvin and Wizard, they are. Aside from the fishermen in Pottersport, a fishing village you own and that is populated by your kin and some other villages inland, only three others now alive know about this place and can see it or even come here: Remus, you and me. Remus because like Sirius, he had the Master's permission of access. You, because your are now the Master of this estate and me, well we'll get to that later."
"The whole estate is warded?"
"Yes Harry. As far as the rest of the Wizarding world is concerned, neither this estate nor anyone who lives here exist. Death Eaters cannot find you nor can your other enemies, nor the Ministry."
"Other enemies?"
"Tomorrow Harry."
"Why now? Why after all of this time? If this place is so safe, what where my parents doing in Godrics Hollow? Why was I sent to live all this time with the Dursleys? Why didn't we live here?"
"I will answer all of those questions, Milord, but tomorrow. It is after three in the morning. I'm knackered and you need your sleep too."
"But…"
"Harry, sleep now. The time for answers has come. The time for truth has come. But you need your sleep."
Harry noticed that they were standing in a huge bedroom. There was a large, four post bed, larger than any he had seen. Windows covered one wall and the wall next to it as well, except where a large fireplace stood and a fire burned.
"The door to your dressing chamber and bath is there," Tonks said, pointing to an ornate wooden door on the same wall as the bed. "Now to sleep. I'll be in the Mistress's Bedchamber should you need anything."
Harry nodded, too tired to argue. He went through the door, passed through the dressing chamber to use the bath. The bathroom was huge, but he was too tried to take it all in. After using the facilities, he left his clothes, all but his boxers, in the dressing room and returned to the Master's Bedchamber and crawled into the huge bed. He was asleep as soon as his head sank into the pillows.
Harry awoke surprisingly early given the late night flight from Privet Drive. By eight-thirty, he had showered and dressed and found his way to the private dining room of the Private Apartment on the First Floor. As he entered, he saw a solitary House elf, or so he thought at first. But the creature looked very different. It was at least six inches taller than any house elf he had ever seen before. House elves had grayish green skin, bat like ears, over sized noses and large eyes that made them look almost comical. They were also quite bald and typically wore loin cloths or togas fashioned from pillow cases and the like.
This creature had skin that looked human. Its ears were pointed, belying the fact that it was not human, while its blue eyes were larger than they would be were it human, they were not overly large and the small nose clearly fit its face. It had long, golden hair braided down the back, a slight yet clearly female figure and it wore a proper dress.
"My Lord Potter," the creature said in a very feminine sounding voice, wholly unlike the unnatural squeak common for the House Elves Harry remembered, "it is indeed a pleasure to finally serve you in your House."
"Who … what are you?" Harry asked.
"I am Elda, Elf Maiden and Personal Chef to My Lord Potter and his family. We expected you years ago and feared the worse, My Lord Potter."
"Elf Maiden? Not a House Elf?"
"I am indeed of the same race as those known to you as House Elves. I and my kin who serve the Ancient and Noble House of Potter have long been free of the Dark Magic that enslaved our kind."
"I'm sorry. I don't understand."
"For thousands of years, my race willingly served witches and wizards as members of their families. We all appeared thusly and were bound to our families by a familial bond. We served as our ancestors had, out of love and pride for our families and clans. We were not slaves.
"Around a thousand years ago, a dark witch, whose name we still do not speak, discovered a spell that enslaved my race. We became bound to your kind not out of love, but malice and we became the race you know as House Elves. It is an unnatural state for us and in such state we submitted to the pain, punishments and humiliation akin to all bound against their will.
"We were denied the love we once enjoyed from our families. We were denied our former rights: the right to marry, to mate, to bear children as we desired. We were forced to endure the humiliation of servitude as opposed to the joys of service and family. We were bred like common animals and our children denied the right to choose to serve their family or seek another when they came of age.
"Four hundred years ago, Lord Potter, an ancestor of yours, discovered what had happened to my kind. He dedicated his life to finding a way to restore at least his elves to their former glory. He succeeded, thus here I stand: an Elf Maiden, a Potter, a mother and wife, and your loyal servant and, I hope, friend."
"Are you the only Elf in service?" Harry asked.
"Oh no, Milord. There are many serving the Potter Estate. I don't know how many for certain. For that, you'd need to talk to Darda. He's the Head Elf for the Estate and keeps track of such things."
"Milord Potter," another voice said, "I am Darda." Harry saw an older looking elf in very elegant robes.
"I'll have breakfast for you and the young lady directly," Elda said and disappeared with barely a sound.
"You're the head of staff?" Harry asked the new elf.
"Yes Milord."
"Just how big is this estate?"
"The Manor estate is about a quarter million acres, all told." Harry's jaw dropped. "Excluding this Manor House, there are twenty guest houses: eight on the coast overlooking the sea and twelve scattered about the remainder of the estate. There's Pottersport, which is the main town located on the coast and is entirely within the Estate and its wards. Several thousand witches, wizards, Muggles and squibs live there and earn a living from the sea. It may be much more than that has there has not been a proper census in ages. There's your own beach house as well. There are over three thousand acres of gardens and much of the rest of the estate is either farmed or pasture land or woodlands."
"How many elves?"
"Forty-six work in the Manor House, Milord. The gardening and grounds keeping staff numbers two hundred and thirty-one. Five hundred and forty work the farms. There are ten who serve as game wardens and another sixteen at the Manor stables. Forty work in the guest houses and another sixteen in your beach chalet. Including me, that's an even nine hundred, Milord."
"Bloody hell! I have to manage this?"
"You may if you desire. It's not necessary. The place pretty much has run itself, quite successfully I might add since the last Lord Potter and his Lady passed away eight years ago during the Dragon Pox outbreak."
"Eight years ago! But my parents died fourteen years ago!"
"Yes Milord. And your grandfather spent the remaining six years of his life trying to find out what became of you. The Ministry was most unkind to his requests and refused him to probate your father's Will. Charles Potter was most put out, I'd dare say. According to the Will, you should have been raised here."
"What?" Harry cried out.
"I'm afraid it's true, Harry," a woman's voice said. Harry turned and saw Tonks enter the dining room dressed in the same clothes she wore the night before.
"Was anyone going to tell me any of this?" Harry protested.
Tonks nodded. "Sirius was. He was planning to do it right after you got back from school for this," her voice hitched, "s-summer. Obviously…"
Obviously he bloody well can't now, Harry thought, seeing as he was dead.
"The task passed to Remus and I, Harry. It's one of the reasons why you're here and not with those so called Muggle relations. But more on that later. Aren't you hungry?"
Harry admitted he was. Darda excused himself as the large breakfast arrived.
"Harry," Tonks said as Harry was eating, "Sirius left instructions for me and Remus in the event he died before this summer. We are to tell you everything we know. You've been lied to practically all your life. That ends now! Well, maybe not just this minute, but when I get back from the errands I need to run later today…"
"Errands?"
"Promised you a proper wardrobe, didn't I? That and I'll be staying here for the next month or two so I need clothes as well, unless Dumbledore has Order business for me. Not likely though."
"Why? Why not?"
"I'm on forty-five days leave from the Auror Corps. Some of it is 'bereavement leave' as Sirius and I were - um - close. That and I have vacation time saved up. So, I'll be here to keep you company, to tell you all we know - more of which you won't like - and to start training you proper."
"Really?" Harry asked as he picked up some toast to butter. "'Bout bloody time!"
"Hopefully, it's not too late," Tonks added. "As to the Order, well Remus and I are assigned to keep an eye on you at least until your Birthday when you're supposed to go to the Burrow and spend the remainder of the Hols with the Weasleys."
"But my birthday is in less than forty-five days," Harry observed. "Are you going to the Weasleys as well?"
"No. And neither are you."
"Why not?"
"There are reasons and I will tell you them. I promise, Harry. For now, rest assured the training Remus and I are going to have you doing cannot be done there, okay?"
Harry nodded. "No more lies, right?"
Tonks nodded. "Now," she said, "as I will be honest with you, can you be honest with me?"
"I suppose," Harry said with caution.
"Do you have feelings for Hermione?"
Harry blushed. He really didn't want to talk about this. They had only just started going out within the last week and while it was wonderful, it clearly had strained their relations with Ron and Ginny Weasley. He nodded. "I - I'm in love with her," he said softly.
"Really?"
Harry nodded. "Since second year. Didn't realize it until the Yule Ball, although I should have."
"Is this the fifteen year old she's cute and shaggable kind of love or the I want to be with her forever, birth my children and cannot live without her in my life kind of love."
"The forever kind."
"Babies too?"
"Well, not just yet but…" Harry blushed.
"You dating?"
"'Bout a week."
"What took you so long?"
"I - I was afraid she didn't love me. Er - well - I was afraid she didn't love me the same way I love her."
"Does she?"
Harry nodded. "I - I thought she was killed. When it turned out she was alive, I swore I would tell her, even if she didn't share those feelings. When she woke up, I did. I - well - I kind of asked her to marry me."
"You did?"
Harry nodded. "And she kind of said yes. Ron was all worked up about it. Accused me of stealing his girl and she told him off, said she loved me and wanted to be with me and…"
"Interesting," Tonks said. "That certainly changes things."
"Yeah," Harry agreed although he and Tonks were not thinking about the same things.
"Oh," Tonks said handing Harry a notebook. "Sorry, but I nicked this from your desk last night."
"You read it?" Harry asked recognizing that it was the notebook where he recorded his thoughts.
Tonks nodded. "No worries, Harry. Every question you have will be answered."
Harry nodded.
"You have a right to be suspicious, Harry. Your insights are not far off the mark and believe me, Sirius, Remus and I have been asking many of the same questions. Sirius practically from the day he was sent to Azkaban without a trial. Remus and I began to believe all was not well early your third year. Course, we couldn't bounce our ideas of Sirius until after you and Hermione rescued him months later. For over eighteen months we tried to fit the puzzle together. It was shortly after Chirstmas break this past year that we finally saw the forest through the trees and believe me, it's one ugly forest. Our plan was to get you here as soon as possible after the summer began, tell you everything and see where things led from there."
Harry nodded not sure of what to say.
Tonks left for her errands almost immediately after she had finished her breakfast telling Harry she would be back around dinner time. She suggested that Harry might want to spend the day exploring the Manor and maybe the grounds as well. It seemed like a good idea to Harry. He planned to use the morning to explore the Manor itself as it seemed huge. After lunch, he thought about breaking out his racing broom and flying over the property itself.
After touring the private apartments, which he thought were far too opulent for his liking but seeing as there were centuries of Potter acquisitions decided to leave things as they were, Harry made his way down to the ground floor. It seemed so much brighter with the sun shining outside. Remembering what he was told not hours before, he headed off in the direction of the library. The part of him that loved Hermione felt it was appropriate to check out the one room she could truly appreciate. When he walked in, he was stunned. He had never seen so many books in one place, not even at Hogwarts. The library was huge, with two levels of books and a large open area with tables, chairs and massive leather couches for reading.
Harry found himself standing before a large book that was open. He could not real a word of it. "Excuse me?" he asked.
He heard a soft "pop" and saw he was now joined by an elf he had not met. This elf was bald and wearing what looked like reading glasses. "Milord Potter," the elf said, "'tis a pleasure to finally have you home! Welcome. I am William, the Librarian."
"William?" Harry asked. For an elf this was a very normal name.
"My parents sensed I would love books on all manner of things and named me after the Bard."
"Who?"
"Shakespeare," William replied. "We have first folios of all his plays here."
Harry had no idea what William was talking about. "What's this?" he asked pointing to the large book.
"Gutenberg Bible," William said. "Printed in the fifteenth century. Perfect condition! First book published using moveable type! We also have an illuminated bible scribed by monks dating back to the ninth century. Wonderful work of art it is!"
Harry nodded trying to hide the fact he had no idea what the elf was talking about. "Er - how many books?"
"Magical or non-magical, Milord?"
"Er - both."
"Our non-magical collection contains works on science, history, literature and such, many first editions. We have 163,789 volumes. Magical, we have every subject and more: 178,291 volumes. Over ten thousand volumes may be the only copies of their kind in all magical Britain!"
"Including Hogwarts?"
William nodded. "Dumbledore's been dying to get his hands on our collection. We think that's why he's kept you from us."
"What? For books?"
"Maybe more. But this collection is worth far more than its weight in gold, Milord."
Harry nodded. "Thanks."
"Anything you might wish to read, Sir?"
"Erm, I'm just finding my way around for now. Just got here last night."
"I understand, Milord. When you are ready…" and the elf disappeared.
Hermione will think she's died and gone to heaven if she ever sees this place, Harry thought. He spent several minutes walking through the library and thinking about the book loving young woman he loved. If she ever saw this, I'd probably have to find a way to force her to leave, he thought to himself. There's no way she could read all these books, is there?
After a time, Harry left the library and continued on his tour. He soon found himself joined by a female elf named Marta who claimed to be the Potter House Historian. He half paid attention as she described the history of the place, the objects and the architecture of the various rooms he entered. At last, he found himself in the Grand Banquet Hall. It reminded him of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, but there was only one huge table in it and scores of ornately carved chairs as opposed to the plain benches. The walls were covered with tapestries and paintings. Marta told him the paintings were of the last twenty-five generations of Lord Potters and their wives or principal concubines. Harry had no idea what the latter term meant. The portraits were in pairs with the names, dates of birth and death of each in brass plaques on the bottom of the frame. Harry moved from portrait to portrait seeing as fashions changed through the ages and wondering about it all. For fifteen years, he had no history. Now he was engulfed in it. He finally arrived at two portraits that seemed fairly recent. Like most, they were and older couple, but the clothes seemed recent enough. He stared at the two people, and soon realized one had died when he was a baby.
Lord Charlus Edmund Potter Dorea Constance (Black) Potter
3 May 1893 - 14 December 1978 16 August 1895 - 23 March 1981
Married: 1 July 1913
Ellen Suzanne (Potter) Brown 5 May 1914
Cynthia Leanne (Potter) Longbottom 14 August 1915
Charles David Potter 17 November 1916
"Who's this?" Harry asked.
"Your Great-grandparents, Milord," Marta answered.
"Dorea Black? Is she any relation to my - my godfather Sirius Black?"
"Indeed she is, Milord. Dorea was Sirius Black's Cousin, the daughter of his Great Grand-Uncle Cygnus Black. Your father and the late Lord Black were second cousins on Sirius's mother's side and third cousins on his father's side. You are Lord Black's second cousin once removed or third cousin once removed, depending upon which line you follow."
"Once removed?"
"Your father and Lord Black were second cousins. As the son of a second cousin, you are once removed from them."
"Oh." Harry still didn't understand. "How … How'd they die, my Great - Grandparents that is?"
"Death Eaters claimed both of them, Milord. They were each killed in Diagon Alley."
"Bloody hell!"
"'Tis what more than a few families call the place, Milord. Dangerous it is to go there when your enemies are about. Still, go you must on occasion."
Harry could only nod. "And the others?"
"Your Grandaunts Ellen and Cynthia and Grandfather Charles."
"Longbottom?"
"Yes, Milord. Cynthia married Howard Longbottom. Howard's first cousin Alan Longbottom would be the next Head of that Ancient and Noble House. I believe that title now vests in Alan's grandson. A boy named Neville if memory serves. You might know him, perhaps?
Harry nodded. "He's a friend of mine from school."
"Appropriate. The Potters and Longbottoms have been allied and close for generations beyond count, Milord. I guess it is meant to be. Longbottoms and Potters have been bonding quite often. You are related to them and they to you and your families have been related for generations."
"Are any of them still alive?"
"Alas no. Your grandaunt Ellen died in the Blitz in 1941. Your grandaunt Cynthia was claimed in the Great Dragon Pox Outbreak of 1988."
Harry looked at the next to last portrait.
Lord Charles David Potter Samantha Elaine (Meeks) Potter
17 November 1916 - 23 August 1988 1 June 1918 - 15 September 1988
Bonded: 5 August 1934
James Charles Potter 27 March 1960
"My Grandparents?" Harry asked.
Marta nodded.
"They were alive when - when all this stuff happened to me and my parents."
Marta nodded. "They looked for you, Milord, 'til they each became too sick. Dragon Pox claimed them before they could find you."
Harry's eyes began to sting and he felt a huge lump in his throat. His grandparents tried! He - he could have had such a different life! He didn't need the wealth this Manor displayed, but he was like a man in a desert when it came to family. His Aunt and Uncle hated him. Why had he been sent there and not here? Why?
The next portraits were of his parents.
James Charles Potter Lily Marie (Evans) Potter
27 March 1960 - 31 October 1981 30 January 1960 - 31 October 1981
Bonded: 30 June 1975
"Why were they not here?" he asked. "Why Godric's Hollow? Do I own any property there?"
"No Milord," Marta responded. "House Potter has many properties both in Britain and abroad. None in that dump of a town!"
"I see, so why were they there?"
"I recall Lord Potter saying that one Dumbledore convinced them it was safer. To this day, I don't see how! This Manor and estate is safer than anywhere in Britain. No enemy can penetrate the wards - ever. Even a traitor to the house cannot! Yet off the young heir went. He trusted the man who sent him there and ignored the protests of his father. And here we are as a result, Milord."
"Whose property?"
"Milord?"
"Who owned the property where my parents were killed?"
"The last Lord Potter cursed his name until the day he died, Milord. Charles Potter's last words were a curse to the man who he believed killed his only child and stole his grandson from him."
"Who?"
"Albus Dumbledore."
"Dumbledore?"
"Said Chief of your Wizengamot, yes Milord. Lord Potter wanted them buried here in the family plot, but Dumbledore said they should lie where others can see."
"That bastard!"
"The last Lord Potter's words were less charitable, Milord."
"Really?" Harry asked in a sarcastic tone. Dumbledore had now become seriously suspect in Harry's mind. Harry would need a really good reason with irrefutable evidence to ever trust the old bastard again. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of all of this nonsense!
"Why am I not up there?"
"You were not born here, Milord, and until today you have not made this Estate your home. It will be corrected."
"Thank you, Marta," he said as calmly has he could. It wasn't her fault Dumbledore was an ass. "I enjoyed the tour. Now I think I shall seek something to eat for lunch."
"It was my pleasure, Milord," Marta replied.
Harry did his best not to storm out of the Banquet Hall. He did his best to maintain his composure when all he really wanted to do was punch the hell out of something - anything! Through the Ballroom, the larger banquet room, the bar he stormed hoping to keep his rising temper in check. He then entered the main entry. There was the Conservatory with its exotic plants and such. It seem peaceful so Harry seemed drawn to it. As he rounded the jungle like space and found entry, he could see the Conservatory was not empty.
There was a young woman standing near the center. She seemed surrounded by suitcases and trunks. She was wearing a skirt and blouse, he could see. He could not see her face. Her shoulders seemed to be shaking as she seemed to stare at the floor. She seemed to be quietly sobbing. Harry could not see her face at all, but the long brown curls of her hair - he would recognize them anywhere.
"Hermione?"
A/N: RELATIONSHIP SCORECARD:
If you didn't read the Intro, you missed that. This is so you can keep up with who's with who and how.
Harry James Potter, age 15 (born 7/31/80)Hermione Jane Granger, age 16 (9/19/79). Girlfriend/fiancé as of 6/18/96.