CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: CLARICE
SATURDAY JUNE 29, 1996 - Potter Estate.
Harry and the others left the Pensieve. Mallory and Minerva were clearly a little shaken as they had truly seen the dead risen from the grave. But they were able to tell Harry that the visions were in fact accurate. Harry was pleased, for even though this meeting with his Mum was difficult, he did like seeing his ancestors. He had Dora as a before lunch appetizer, and she certainly was a witch who could work up an appetite. When lunch had ended, he kissed Minerva and Mallory as they had their outside jobs to attend to before Hermione gave him a lesson in what he could do to her in her condition - a lesson she made sure was seen by the remaining three witches.
Harry needed to get out. Given that his estate was almost the size of London itself, there was plenty of room for him to move about. He had been here a week and as wonderful as that week was, he had been itching to get out and see what here was to see. Minerva had retrieved his Firebolt from Hogwarts not long after she had become his concubine, so he had a means to travel about his lands. He invited Hermione to join him. But she made it clear the only broom she wanted to fly was in his pants and she was in no condition to fly on it today. As for the flying stick with twigs? No thanks! Harry knew Hermione had issues with magical flying. Something he'd have to work on, he thought.
Daphne and Astoria wanted to go and even had their own brooms up in their trunks somewhere, but Harry begged off.
"Tomorrow, Ladies," he said. "I want to see what's worth seeing and tomorrow we'll see the lot, okay?"
They seemed a little disappointed, but Harry wanted Dora and Hermione to fill them in on things. He promised them a trip soon. Harry then led them out onto the veranda. He kissed each and promised to be home by supper time, then straddled his broom and kicked off, waving to them as he flew off.
"Well," Dora said, "I don't know about you girls, but the air is warm, sun is shining, I'm going to work on a proper tan." She took off her robe and stood naked before them. Bending over, she removed her wand and seemed to cast a spell on herself before settling into an adjustable lounging chair. The two blondes did likewise after asking Dora about the spell she used. Hermione soon followed suit. She used tampons as did most witches her age. This had to do with the fact that even though she was having her period, she still had to reach her climax at least once a day. A pad would have made that difficult.
The four witches spent the afternoon lounging in the sun and not getting burnt thanks to the spell Dora taught them. Hermione had to admit to herself that it was quite relaxing, feeling the sun all over her. All that was missing was a Harry massage. Later, when she thought about it, Dora's idea of nude sunbathing made sense. It was a proper counterpoint to the serious discussion about the threats to Harry as Dora and Hermione told their new friends everything.
The Greengrass girls seemed unsurprised by the fact that Voldemort had it in for Harry. That was common knowledge. It was the details they heard for the first time that got to them: the Prophesy, how Harry's parents had been lured away from the safest place in Britain, the betrayal, Harry's childhood, and his more recent encounters.
That Albus Dumbledore was really a right bastard also came as little surprise. The Greengrass family had little respect for the man. Slytherin had once been respected. When Dumbledore joined the faculty in 1919, it began going downhill. It had once been the model house. It was the standard and, while it was mainly Purebloods, they had not looked down on others like now, rather tried to hold themselves out as examples to the other houses of what it was to be magical. The Pureblood bigotry probably existed even then, but it had been suppressed.
In comes Dumbledore and Slytherin became bigoted. Dumbledore had been a Gryffindor when he was in school, but the rumors were he encouraged Purebloods in general and Slytherins in particular to view themselves as superior to all others. The raping of Slytherin girls began under his tenure has Headmaster. The story was that he not only looked the other way, he even obliviated the girls or their parents who insisted upon filing charges. This had led to the situation today where a girl in that House could only avoid being a House whore if she was too ugly to shag, betrothed or married. Snape had only made things worse, since once you gave it up in Slytherin; he expected time with you as well. Again, Dumbledore knew this and did nothing.
When the conversation moved onto Dumbledore's plots against Harry, there was a real change in the demeanor of the two sisters. The two blondes were soon up, pacing back and forth as each revelation was told. They told the girls about the fact that Dumbledore wanted Harry dead, wanted his money, his votes on the Wizengamot, and wanted the glory for ending Voldemort, all to achieve what Voldemort was after in the first place.
"How could anyone do this to Harry," Astoria cried. "Why would anyone? Don't they know just how truly special he is?
"Yesterday began as the worst day of my life. My Daddy sold me and Daphne to Lord Black and we knew that meant Malfoy and that we would be little more than whores for him and his Death Eater friends. I was terrified when I arrived here. It was a bloody miracle I didn't pee my self.
"Then we were brought to you and him. Harry talked to us and explained why this all was happening. He didn't want this for us any more than we did, but he did it because it was necessary. He wanted to save us and our whole family as well. This was not some perv wanting a little whore for his pleasure - which is what most concubine owners are - this was a selfless act on his part. He saved our lives and … and is giving us a future. You've known Harry. I'm sure you know how truly special he is.
"I am Harry's girl! I may have been even before he first kissed me. I believe he is the future and that is a future I want for me, my sister Daphne, my children - one day - and my other sisters. In this future, the Purebloods lose and a new world arises. In this future, no girl should fear becoming a concubine or being treated as property. But, in this future, I want a choice for me. I want to choose whether or not to remain bound to Harry. I want that choice because I want to remain his forever. I know he will never love me the way he loves you, Hermione. But he has such a huge heart, don't you know. While he may be huge in other ways, it's his heart. I feel I have a tiny piece of it and a tiny piece of our Harry is more than most women can expect. I FEEL LOVED! I FEEL SAFE! And I know it's not just me. I see it in Daphne's face, and Dora and Mallory and Minnie. I know it's in your's Hermione. I love Harry Potter - the real one! I want to learn all I can to help him. I want to do all I can to help him!"
Daphne nodded. "He was the only boy who was ever nice to me. First Year, Ron started picking on me when I was alone because I was a Slytherin and Harry stopped him. Harry stopped Malfoy once as well. Had I not been in Slytherin, I know I would have been his friend before now. I would have joined your Army last year. I wanted to, but…"
Daphne was tearing up.
"It's okay," Hermione said softly.
"If I could have been his Consort, Hermione, I would have. I just want you to know that. If I am given the choice, I will stay with Harry. I will be his forever. I've decided. Next time I am with him, I will ask for children. He deserves all I can be and all I can give him and more.
"I have an idea about how we can deal with the threats against him, but I need time to mull it over."
"What kind of idea?" Dora asked.
"A very Slytherin kind," Daphne smirked.
"Which is probably what we need now," Hermione said. "Charging in might not work too well right now."
Harry's first discovery stunned him. There was a large building hidden from the Manor in a wood a couple hundred yards away or so. He landed to see what it was and soon learned he now had a way - several ways, in fact - to take Hermione and the others out and about on the Estate without resorting to magical flying. Hermione hated all forms of magical flight. Harry conversely was not comfortable with most other forms of magical transportation. What he found was something he knew Hermione would be comfortable with, although he was a little surprised by it. He decided immediately that he would take Hermione and the others on a tour of the Estate tomorrow.
Harry was flying south, towards one of the side boundaries of the property. After passing over what he thought had to be at least the length of three Quidditch pitches, maybe more, the woods gave way to fields and pastures. He continued south, admiring the countryside and watching for a west leading road he had been told about that morning that would lead him to Pottersport and his first view of the sea. He was really looking forward to that.
After what he judged was about four miles, he found the road. He was surprised to see that it was paved and looked like a Muggle road. He had been told by Darda the Elf that he would sense the wards long before he crossed them, yet he sensed nothing. Surely he was off the estate. But this was the only such road or even path he had flown over so he turned to the right to follow it to the west and the sea. The countryside was rolling hills, although not too steep for the most part as much of the land was tilled earth. It was so green, Harry thought. The road wound back and forth, seeming to follow the contours of the land. Harry was convinced he was too far to the south as he overtook a couple of Lorries heading west. Still, this might be the only way to find his way back and something had to be up ahead.
The crops had changed, Harry noted as he flew on. Gone were the pastures and plowed fields and in their place were row after row of what looked like vine covered fences. Vines? Harry thought. Vineyard? Grapes? Surely…?
He crested a ridge and followed the road down into a valley. When the road reached the bottom it turned sharply to the right and Harry followed. As soon as he turned, he saw a town barely half a mile in front of him. Even from this distance, he could see this town was at least twice the size of Hogsmeade, which Hermione had once told him was the largest magical village in the British Isles. Surely he was off the Estate. Too late for it now, he thought. He had flown over three Muggle vehicles and would be in for it with the Ministry.
The road ran along the base of the ridge, more of those vine things along the slope until one reached the town proper. Harry slowed up and flew lower. On the right side of the road he soon saw a few houses and then shops. The left side, along the valley floor, was where most of the town was located. To the right, however, there was a short row of shops and a building on the crest of the ridge that he soon saw was accessed by a wooden stair from the valley below and the car park? He saw several cars parked in a row just off the main road.
Just before he reached the town, he saw a sign. "Potter's Vineyard," it said. Now he was confused. The town he had heard about and knew it was within the Estate, but cars? True, Mr. Weasley had one once and he knew the Ministry had them. But most Wizards and Witches did not. Odd. Moreover, upon the roof of the building on the ridge was a large sign proclaiming for all to see approaching from either direction: "Martha's Restaurant."
Harry landed at the edge of the car park beside one of the shops on the ridge side of the main road and just by the stairs leading up to "Martha's." Just outside the shop, four older gentlemen were seated on a bench for no apparent reason. The two in the middle looked like they might be playing a game of chess, while another read a newspaper than the one closest to Harry smoked a pipe and seemed to be watching the day go by. To Harry's surprise, right beside the bench was a rack that held several flying brooms of various makes and models. Obviously this was a magical town despite the cars and if it was, Hermione would have to rethink the accuracy of Hogwarts: A History, which had told her Hogsmeade was the largest magical community in Britain. This village was much larger.
Harry began to stack his Firebolt in the rack.
"Wouldn't do that if that were my broom, Lad," the man smoking the pipe said.
"Excuse me, Sir?" Harry asked.
"While I doubt anyone would actually steal it, fair bet a nice broom like that might get borrowed for a bit."
Harry looked at the man cautiously.
He laughed at Harry. "Not by me, Lad. Bit too old for a fast broom such as that one. There are younger one's about though who might fancy a flight. You headed up to Martha's."
"Er, I suppose."
"So long as you don't terrorize the guests, I'm sure she won't have a problem with the broom. Don't recall seeing you around."
"Er - been away. School, Sir."
"Suppose that must be it then. Amazing how the boardies grow and change over a year's time."
"Boardies?"
"Boarding school, Lad."
"Oh. Yeah. Sprouted a bit, Sir."
"Must be it then. Enjoy your lunch."
"Thank you Sir."
"Least they bloody well teach manners at whatever school it is you attend. Some of the local lads could learn to do that."
"Thanks."
Harry was standing five feet from the man. The two chess players were looking at him at well. They didn't seem to recognize him, or if they did they were so unlike anyone he had bet before since he learned he was a wizards. No shouts of "It's him! It's Harry Potter!" No pleading for his autograph or picture or anything. To them, he was just another teenager and the only way he had stood out was by being polite, not by being the Boy-Who-Lived. This was a pleasant surprise to say the least.
Harry placed his broom on his shoulder and began climbing the stairs to Martha's which looked to be a good four stories above the rest of the town. As he climbed, he noticed a family descending towards him: a mother, father and three young children. The girl might be eleven, the boys were even younger.
"Oooh! Daddy!" one of the boys said as they were almost passing each other. "That's a Firebolt that is!" The boy starred at Harry in awe. "You play Quidditch?" he asked.
"I'm sure this young man has better things to do than show off his broom," the Mother said.
"It's okay," Harry said. "It is a Firebolt and I do play."
"Wow!"
"What team?" the other boy said. "No one in the local league has one. You must play for Puddlemere or some such."
"Sorry, no. School team."
"What school flies Firebolts?"
"Er - just me, I think."
"Must be rich."
"Actually, this was a gift from my godfather."
"Well, he must be then."
Harry shrugged. "Might have been. Then again, most people thought he was a fool with what money he did have."
"Well, still. Is it fast?"
"Yep."
"Cool! Wish I had a godfather like that!"
"Andy!" the boy's mother exclaimed. "Your godfather loves you very much."
"Never bought me a Firebolt."
"Nor will he ever, you keep that attitude. Besides, you are far too young for anything more than a training broom!"
"I suppose," the boy moped.
"And how is your godfather - er …"
"Dead," Harry said, hoping she did not figure out who he was.
"I'm so sorry. When?"
"Couple weeks ago."
"He's Outside, wasn't he?"
"He lived in London," Harry said hoping outside meant outside the estate.
"That explains is then," the woman said. "Sorry."
"Thanks."
The family began back down the stairs and Harry continued up. Odd that, he thought. Again, he was just another boy to them. He finally reached the doors to Martha's and entered. It was indeed a restaurant, although there seemed to be few customers at all. A short and plump lady with graying hair approached him.
"Welcome young man," she said in a pleasant voice. "You're first time?"
Harry nodded.
"Though so. I remember all my customers. You do remind me of someone - but that's impossible. Anyway, all the tables on the deck are full - I'm sorry - weather's nice and it being a Saturday and all. But we can seat you in here, if you like."
"That's okay, I was just looking around."
"Up from Pottersport then?"
"No Ma'am."
"Charlestown?"
"No, sorry."
"Well, you're definitely not from here. You an Outsider?"
"No Ma'am. I live here at the Estate. Just got back from school and…"
"Well aside from the towns, the only other wizard I know who lives here is that Mr. Lupin chap. Last I recall, he has no son. A relative?"
"No Ma'am."
"Then where do you live?"
"Er…"
The woman seemed to pale a little. "You - you wouldn't be James and Lily's Harry, would you?"
Not Harry Potter? Harry thought. Here I'm James and Lily's Harry! That's so much nicer.
Harry smiled.
"You are, aren't you?"
Harry nodded shyly.
"Oh Thank Merlin you're okay," she surprised Harry by hugging him tight. "Sorry. Where are my manners! I shouldn't have done that seeing as you and I have never met. I'm Martha Clark. My husband and I own this place. And … oh Bless Me," she said staring at Harry's hand as he offered to shake hers, "you have the Ring!"
Harry nodded.
"Are you up at the Manor?"
Harry nodded again.
"It is indeed a pleasure having Lord Potter in the House again," Martha said somewhat formally. But she still had a pleasant smile on her face.
"Please, just Harry is fine Martha," Harry said.
"So like Lord Charles. He hated his title too. His only - er - show off stuff was his cars. Otherwise, you could find him at the pubs with the rest of the blokes. He even worked the boats as a deck hand in his youth. I'm told he was Estate darts champion years running and heaven forbid if anyone lost to him on purpose. He was actually quite good. We all have missed him and his Samantha.
"Oh my!"
"What?"
"Can you stay for a bit? Hungry?"
"I had lunch with my wife and …"
"Wife? Wife and what?"
"Er…"
"Harry, you seem a bit young for a wife. But that's none of my business. And if you were about to say 'Concubine', well Outside that carries a stigma but not here. Most of us have a Potter Concubine as an ancestor if we were born here. If not, then we are most likely married to a Concubine's descendant. My own Great-great grandmum was one and my family is proud of that. You will find a lot of good here comes from what Outsiders look down upon as the lowest of classes. Our Library, Schools, Hospital, they were all founded by a Lord Potter's Concubine and many a subsequent one worked there. My good friend Minnie taught primary school. She was Lord Charlus Potter's. Taught there until she got a posting at Hogwarts. I haven't seen her since not long after Lord Charles and Lady Sam died of Dragon Pox they caught at some function outside almost eight years ago."
"Minnie? Minerva McGonagall?"
"You know her?"
"In more ways than one. She was my Head of House and Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts and when I was emancipated and inherited my - er - estate, it seems I inherited her too."
"Has she moved back?"
Harry nodded.
"When," Martha said sounding disappointed.
"Few days ago."
"And she hasn't even stopped by for tea? I thought she was a friend!"
"Martha, I'm sure it's not that. I came here knowing nothing about any of this and she's been helping. That and as Deputy Headmistress, she also has to meet with all of the new Muggle Born families this time of year. But when I see her tonight I will tell her you feel most slighted by her omission."
"Harry, a gentle reminder would be fine."
"But not as much fun."
Martha laughed. "I see there's a bit of James in you two - aside from your face and hair that it. As a youth, that lad was a handful. But I would like to see my old friend again."
"I was thinking of bringing my girls out tomorrow," Harry said. "But I'm not sure Minerva will be able to make it. She said something about taking families to Diagon Alley…"
"Why anyone would shop in that crime ridden cesspool is beyond me," Martha said in disgust. "High Street in Pottersport is so much nicer - and certainly far less lethal. You do know your Great-grandparents were murdered in Diagon Alley."
"I recently learned that," Harry nodded.
"Why anyone from this estate would venture into Wizarding Britain is beyond me. Place is full of nutters, wars, dark magic and nonsense. If only we had our own magic school! You know, just about everyone who left here to live there winds up suffering an unnatural death? Most of us don't bother - or at least we don't bother with Britain. The Continent isn't too bad. Magical Britain though. They can rot for all we care! Smartest move Lord Richard made was to get out from under Ministry jurisdiction in 1217. We here are subjects of Her Majesty's government, not the Ministry for Magic and that backwards lot!
"Oh but can you stay for just a bit, Harry? I know you say you've eaten, but a spot of tea or juice?"
"Juice sounds nice, but why?"
"There's someone here you must meet! Oh, she will be thrilled!"
"Who?"
"Samantha Jones is here with her family. She's your Grandmother's niece and I guess that makes you her First Cousin once removed or some such…"
Harry met his Cousin Samantha and her family. He was sitting with them on the crowded deck overlooking what he was told was the "Wine Country." It was quite a view he had to admit and decided then and there his girls and he would eat breakfast here tomorrow. Sam, as she preferred to be called, was a very pleasant woman and her husband Roger was a nice man. They had two children - a son and daughter about his age - but those two did not say too much when he was introduced. Lord Potter seemed a bit much for them. What was really odd, though, was that for his first time since learning he was a wizard, he was not the famous Harry Potter. Most people either ignored him or treated him as just another teen. Had he not enjoyed being almost normal for once, it might have seemed unnerving.
Sam was able to explain to him things about the estate that the dry account books did not. Martha's was considered the best Restaurant on the estate. Almost everything on the menu came from the estate and it was all cooked "Muggle style." No magic was used - aside to keep the fires going. It was generally agreed that well prepared "hand made" food was better than "Magic" food on so many levels.
Harry learned that Potter's Vineyard was just that. The Winery was located here. The Estate produced some of the best Elf made wine in Europe and had won awards for years, much to the consternation of the French. But there was also the Dairy. The Dairy supplied milk and crème for the local market, but was the largest supplier of cheese and butter for Magical Britain.
Pottersport was the main town on the Estate. It was a fishing port and supplied almost all the fish and seafood consumed in Magical Britain, with a healthy export to the Continent as well. Basically, if one ate fish and chips or kippers in Magical Britain, it was a very good bet it came in from Pottersport. There was also a brewery that made premium ale sold mostly to Muggles and a distillery as well. Potter's Reserve was a very expensive and highly regarded Muggle style whiskey. It was also said that High Street was the best shopping district in Magical Britain; although Sam conceded as a resident she was biased. Pottersport was also the location of the power plant. The Potter Estate was electrified and oddly Harry should have known this as he had been turning on lights all week. It just never dawned on him.
The third town was Charlestown. It was newer and larger than Potter's Vineyard, but smaller than Pottersport. Their main business was farming. All the beef consumed in the Estate was packaged there and they were a major supplier of pork products, poultry and produce for export to wizarding Britain. From a food standpoint, the Estate was self-sufficient with a significant export. As the Estate made ten percent of the profits, Harry now understood why he was so damn wealthy. In return, all of the services were fully funded by the Estate including the schools, hospital, public works projects, parks, library and so forth.
What really shocked Harry was the status both of Lord Potter and his Estate. Lord Potter had holdings - fairly significant ones, including almost a third of Diagon Alley - in Magical Britain. These properties were held so he could maintain his seats in the Wizengamot. But his main estate was technically a Duchy. It was an independent magical country with its own Gringotts branch as proof. As Lord Potter, he was not unlike the Queen of England. The government of his people was elected; he was their Head of State. He had influence and control over the land, but the laws and their enforcement fell to the Lord Mayor, Council and High Court.
Harry remembered the books he had gone over with Remus. He owned all the land and the major exporting companies on the estate. But the land was leased to his people for next to nothing. If he earned a galleon a year per person, it was a lot. He got ten percent of the export profits. He earned nothing from imports or anything sold local. Still, the exports were very lucrative. Throw in his substantial Outside portfolio and his income was mind boggling. In Muggle terms, he made over 100 Million Pounds in a bad a year after paying all Estate expenses and even the Muggle taxes - and that was just the Potter money.
As Harry flew west after his time in Potter's Vineyard, a thought dawned on him. He remembered a recommendation from his Gringott's account manager about diversifying his markets given the increasing uncertainty in Britain. The account manager's recommendation was aggressive and no doubt would be noticed with shortages in certain commodities in Wizarding Britain if implemented. The potential profits caused by increased prices - ordinarily Harry did not want to profit from another's misfortune and it would be the average witch and wizard who would pay dearly if he cut supplies. Still…
On a smaller scale, he could get into the European markets. The diversification would go unnoticed but provide an open door to shift in part or in whole to that market if need be. Should the Purebloods gain control of Britain, Harry could break them economically by shifting the entire export from them to Europe. Food riots had led to the fall of more regimes than anything in history. Pull the Potter Estate exports and Wizarding Britain would effectively lose at least one third of its food supply, if not more. It would cut across the entire society and the "new" government would be ripe for attack. Something to keep in mind, he thought.
Up ahead he saw a castle and this puzzled him as he followed what was the main road to Pottersport. It was large and imposing, and surrounded by what looked like large, almost star shaped earthworks atop which Harry saw what looked like very old fashioned cannons. The castle seemed less impressive than the one he had considered home the last five years. It was not Hogwarts. Still, beyond it he saw a vast expanse of water. But where was Pottersport?
It seemed the castle was on a bluff. Not quite a cliff, but on the far side the ground dropped steeply to a flat plain that was on the coast. It was on that plain that he saw a huge town. If Potter's Vineyard was at least twice as large as Hogsmeade, Pottersport was ten times again as large. The main road snaked down the bluff and then ran right through the middle of the town to the sea. Harry could see the numerous shops lining the road and figured it had to be the High Street. He slowed and lowered until he gently touched down on a sidewalk. He walked through block after block of shops and was soon convinced that this indeed rivaled Diagon Alley if not exceeded it. The number and variety of shops amazed him and there were several he had never seen in Magical London as they clearly sold Muggle stuff. One shop in particular caught his attention and he entered.
An hour later, Harry left rather pleased with himself. He continued his stroll and soon reached the end of the road. Another road that ran along the coastline intersected with High Street. It was called Front Street and on the far side of the road was the sea. Harry crossed over and stood on a railing looking out over the water. Boats where anchored in the calm waters and to his right he saw docks filled with boats with cranes and nets that had to be fishing boats. Harry turned to look out on the waters again. He could see that there was no land on the far side. He had reached the sea at last. He was soon lost in his thoughts as he looked at the infinite space before his eyes.
"Excuse me, laddie," a deep voice said being Harry back from his thoughts, "but you look a little lost." It was a kind voice. Harry turned to see its owner. It was a tall and burly man who looked to be in his forties with reddish hair and a matching beard and mustache, both well groomed. He was dressed in a heavy, wool sweater which seemed to be a bit much for the weather. While he seemed to have a kind face, there was a look in his eyes. He was suspicious.
"Lost in thought," Harry said calmly. "I've never seen the sea before."
"That ain't the sea," the man said. "Just the harbor. Beyond it is the bay and beyond that is the sea."
"Still, it's quite pretty," Harry admitted.
"Aye Lad, that it is. You're not from around here, are you now?"
"Until I moved here a week ago, I didn't even know this place existed."
"Moved here? With your parents? I wasn't aware of any newcomers. We don't get many outlanders here at all, if'n you must know."
"My parents are dead," Harry said as calmly as he could. "They lived here a long time ago, before I was born then moved away."
"Sorry, lad, I didn't know."
"It's okay."
"Lived here, did they? An' moved away? Always said no good had ever come from moving away regardless of the reason. After what happened to James and Lily Potter, can't imagine why anyone would."
"Those were my parents," Harry said softly.
The man's eyes went wide with recognition. "You're Harry Potter? Lord Potter? Milord, I apologize for…"
"Please, just Harry is fine with me."
"Harry then. And I am Mick Jameson."
Harry wondered where he heard that name before, but he was sure he had heard it - at least the last name.
The man chuckled. "Not unlike yer Granddad Lord Charles. 'Though you look more like James. Lord Charles weren't fer puttin' on airs neither."
"Thanks, Mr. Jameson."
"Mick's fine, Harry. So you're up at the Manor, I take it."
Harry nodded. "Been there a week. This was the first chance I had to come down here. What's that castle on the hill?"
"Potter Castle," Mick said. "The round house was built in the tenth century, but most of what you see was built in the fourteenth. It was the home of many a Lord Potter for centuries until they built the Manor."
"So it's empty?" Harry asked.
"Not really. It's our Government House. Previous Lord Potters still used it for special events, including diners and balls for all who could attend. It is also used for weddings and receptions and the like. I take it you don't know much about the estate."
"Nor my family," Harry admitted. "Didn't know about any of this at all until recently."
"An' where was you livin' recently?"
"When I wasn't at Hogwarts, I lived with my Mum's sister's family in Surry."
"Well, welcome home, Lord Harry. Ah, it will be good having a Lord Potter in residence once again."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't get me wrong, but this ain't like them arseholes what live beyond our borders. Lord Potter has always been head of our family and the symbol of how every babe born here is family. All of us what were born here can trace our family back to a Lord Potter somewhere in the distant path. I me-self is descended from the twenty-third Lord and his Concubine. An' here there ain't no shame in that, unlike over the borders. Potter Concubines have always been as respected here as Potter Ladies an' their children is as much a Potter as any born to a Lady."
"Thanks," Harry said. "What do you do, Mick? If you don't mind me asking."
"I'm the owner and skipper of the Maggie Marie." He then pointed to a large boat - a ship really, moored down the way, "named fer the missus. We just got back las' night after six weeks fishing off the Grand Banks. Been unloadin' our catch 'til jus' about now."
"Good catch?"
"Very good one. Should do more than pay the bills, it should. Me crew and I was going to grab a pint or two at the Sail Loft Pub up yonder before goin' home to the wife and kiddies. Care to join us?"
"I'm not yet sixteen," Harry said. "Too young for a pint."
"No worries. If'n it ain't a pint, they's got soda as well. Tea, if you're into that. Come along and meet some o' yer relations."
Harry picked up his broom and followed the man to the Pub. Harry had been to a few pubs or taverns in the Wizarding World. None were like this one. Compared to this one, they were old, run down. While this Pub did not look modern, it did look like it was built within the last century and certainly looked well maintained and clean - something he could not say about any of the others.
"Hey! Mick!" several voices called from a large table. Mick walked over with Harry not far behind.
"Lads," Mick said, "you'll never believe who I ran into on me way fer a pint."
"Never believe you anyway," one of the men laughed.
"This 'ere be Lord Harry Potter."
"Nope, don't believe you," the man still laughed. "At sea you're my Captain. Here, yer just a bloke known fer prankin'."
"I swear it's the truth this time, Dickie."
Harry reluctantly showed his ring.
"Blimey! It is Lord Potter!"
"Just Harry please," Harry said.
"You livin' up at the Manor er jus' visitin'?" another man asked.
"Been living at the Manor about a week," Harry said. "I have no intention of leaving."
"There be a Lord at the Manor at last," another seemed elated. "Praise be to God."
"Amen!" several voices replied.
"What's so important about that?" Harry asked.
"Er - nothing really," Mick said. "It' just that…"
"We're all Potters here," another said. "Every family is descended from a Lord Potter and - well - not having a Lord Potter kind of makes it seem like we're missing who we truly are."
"That and there are those who believe keeping you away from us was part of a plot by the Outsiders to seize control of our home and return it to Magical Britain," another added.
So that's what Dumbledore's really playing at, Harry thought to himself.
"Like they could do that," another said. "Everyone knows the only way into our Country is if you are a Potter by blood or marriage or if Lord Potter allows you his leave."
"Aye," several agreed.
"Why would we want to rejoin?" another commented. "We've been independent for over seven hundred years. Look what a mess the outside has become. Bloody mess, it is."
"Aye," Mick agreed. "So called 'Purebloods' tying to Lord over all. Makes me sick jus' thinking 'bout it. They can all bloody well rot."
"One must be daft to want to live there," Dickie said. "Specially given the times they're havin'."
"Aye."
"Tis a pity Lord Charles passed when he did," another began.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Ever since what happened to you all them years ago, Lord Charles had wanted to open our own school of magic here," Mick said. "Lord Charles believed that had he not had to send his son outside to learn magic, his son would not have run afoul of that Dumbledore creep and James and you would not have been lost to us."
"Of course," Harry suggested, "had that been the case, my parents would never have met."
"True, but Lord Charles planned to bring in as many Muggle Borns as possible to attend."
"Ain't safe fer them Outside," a man said. "An' it's getting worse."
"Aye," several said in agreement.
"Anyway," Mick went on, "Lord Charles was all set to start when he passed away."
"He went into London to a meeting of that Wizen what's it. Caught the pox, he did."
"Lady Sam too," another said sadly. "'Tis such a shame."
"So, where've you been all these years," Dickie asked Harry.
"Er - Outside."
"Right shame that is," another said. "This is and always has been your home lad. We all are family."
"I didn't know that," Harry admitted. "Not until a few days ago."
"Didn't know?" another exclaimed. "What sick bastard kept you in the dark."
"That Dumbledore chappie, fair bet," another added.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It was his doing all along. He was the one who convinced my parents to move to Godric's Hollow. He told them it was safer there. In reality, he just wanted them where they could be watched and open for attack by Voldemort. I was not supposed to survive that.
"When I did, he used his power in the government to suppress my parent's real Will and to silence any real challenges. My Godfather was charged with crimes he did not commit and set to rot in prison without a trial. I was supposed be sent back here. I most certainly was not supposed to go and live with my Mum's magic hating Muggle sister in Surrey.
"I grew up not even knowing my parents' names. I didn't know about magic or any of this. It was only when I turned eleven that I learned that I was a wizard and my parents were magical. For a long time, that was all I knew about them.
"My Godfather escaped from prison the summer before my Third Year. I now know he came to live here where he had lived before it all happened. I thought he had betrayed my parents, because that's what everyone Outside believed was true. I later learned to my horror he had not.
"He managed to challenge Dumbledore for control of my affairs and Magical Guardianship and, because he was never convicted of any crime, he won. It was his plan to return me here one day and restore me to my heritage. The problem was, he could not tell me. If he did, Dumbledore would find out and…
"Anyway, the plan was it would all happen the day I got back to where I was living this Summer. He was going to bring me here and I was to remain here, safe from that old bastard's plans. the Old Man, apparently, was and remains overseas somewhere for now and would not learn about this until it was too late.
"Unfortunately, my godfather was killed about two weeks ago. But, he even planned for that. In his Will, he emancipated me, bringing me into my inheritance which allowed me to return. As he died without children, and as I am his Second Cousin and thus eligible to be named his heir, and to stick it to all the Purebloods, upon his death, I also inherited his lands and titles. That makes me the Fifty-First Lord Potter and the Forty-Seventh Lord Black. Not that any of that matters. I'd give all up if it would bring them all back."
There was a long and uneasy silence for a while as the crew of the Maggie Marie and some of the other patrons contemplated Harry's tale.
"Nothin' good has ever come from living outside," one man commented.
"Well, enough of such depressing talk," Mick said. "Tis all in the past now. Despite everything, Lord Harry is home finally."
"T' Lord Harry," a voice called and everyone raised a glass, much to Harry's embarrassment.
"Welcome home at last," Mick added.
"Thanks," Harry said. He then chucked.
"What's so funny?" a man asked.
"It's just so different here than what you call Outside," Harry replied.
"How so?"
"Outside, I learned I was a wizard and then that I was famous almost at the same time. I had been a nobody, really. Now I was this great hero and all I had done was not die.
"Yet from that moment on, most people fawned over me like I was some kind of Royal. I couldn't walk down a street and not be accosted by someone seeking my autograph or a photo or asking me to endorse their stuff. As one person said - and mind you I never like this git - I couldn't even walk into a book store without it becoming front page news. I remember watching the news once last summer. It was covering the Royal Family and I knew what they must feel like. I hated it: the fame, the attention, the fact that it might take months or even years for me to see that a person genuinely wanted to be my friend and not just have bragging rights that he or she knew the famous Harry Potter.
"I come here. Admittedly, I've only been out and about since lunch today, but people seem more genuine. They might know who I am, but here it's because I'm Lord Potter. And yet, you all have treated me like I'm another person, not some high and mighty Prince or some celebrity. It's refreshing in a way."
"Lord Charles was much like you, Harry," an older man said. "He knew the only reason he was 'Lord' had nothing to do with anything he had done. All he wanted was to be a regular bloke. Of course, as Lord Charles, he had responsibilities to the Estate. But every chance he got, he was just a regular bloke and we learned to treat him that way."
"He did like his flash cars," another added, by way of counterpoint.
"But he was as ordinary as they came, and in a way that made him very extraordinary."
"Did you know, Harry," Mick cut in, "that when Lord Charles finished school, he spent the summer working on my Granddad's fishing boat?"
Harry shook his head.
"Wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty," another man added.
"Neither am I," Harry added.
"Really?"
"I've been working in the gardens, cleaning house and cooking meals - all without magic - since I was five. I didn't like why I was doing it, but the gardening and cooking I did kind of enjoy. I don't think I can cook as well as Martha - yet - but I wouldn't embarrass myself if I tried."
"Just like Charles," another man commented.
"You're more than welcome to join me and the lads for a summer," Mick said, "after you take your N.E.W.T.s of course."
"I'd - I'd like that."
"A right proper Lord," another voice said. ""Doesn't believe he's above people. So not like them 'Lords' outside who think just cause they got lucky once by bein' birthed, they're better'n anyone else fer the rest of their bloomin' lives."
"If you was one o' that lot, Lad," another said, "we'd 'ave said 'ello and been done with ya."
"So tell us Harry," a man asked, "ya livin' in that big ole Manor all by yerself?"
"Oh no," Harry smiled. "There are others there as well."
"Ya mean the elves or others besides the elves."
"Others besides the elves."
"A few friends," Harry admitted.
"These friends wouldn't be of the female persuasion, would they now?" a man asked.
Harry could not help but blush.
"Blimey if'n they ain't," an man gasped. "You can't be more than -what? - fourteen?"
"He's nearly sixteen Roger," another man said. "Born July 31st 1980 as I recall."
"Oi! You know I ain't all up on dates like some!"
"Aye. Forget yer own birthday if'n yer Missus didn't reminds ya!"
"An' his Missus," another said, "an' his kids, an' Christmas…"
"You lot don't have to rub it in. Point is, he's still a tad young to be havin' Lady company."
"Fiver says he's already got 'imself a Lady Potter," one voice laughed.
"'Nother fiver a concubine as well!"
"I'll take that bet," a few men laughed.
"Well?" several asked looking at Harry who was feeling more than just a little uncomfortable.
"Last Sunday, not long after I arrived here, my best friend arrived as well…"
"Told you, pay up."
"Yer just assuming it's a bloke!"
"She," Harry continued, "and I have been best friends since I was eleven and I've probably been in love with her since I was twelve. She's a Muggle Born. Smart as hell. Beautiful. Kind, caring, selfless, brave…"
"Oi, poor lad is whipped…"
"I asked for and received her parents blessing the day before and when she arrived, she became my Consort."
"Pay up," one man said.
"Not until we here about whether he's got a concubine."
"I actually have a few," Harry began. He then told them about the other women in his life and how he came to bond with them, leaving out the physical stuff.
"The wife's gonna kill me," the loser of the bet moaned.
"Ah, but you've heard it from the horse's mouth!"
"There is that," he conceded.
They spoke on about what they had learned and Harry learned that three of the men had had Minerva as a teacher in primary school, years ago before she took her position at Hogwarts. He also learned that a few of the men's wives had had Mallory as a Healer when they gave birth. One thing was clear, there was no stigma here about being a concubine. Minerva and Mallory were considered highly respected members of the community.
"Got any pictures?" Roger asked.
"Sorry, no," Harry replied. It was a situation he needed to remedy, he thought.
"Would you like to see pictures of my family?" Mick asked.
"Sure," Harry said quietly.
The man opened his wallet and showed a picture of a very pretty woman who appeared to be in her late thirties or so.
"That's the real Maggie Marie," Mick said. "We married when we were nineteen. That's was what? Twenty-three years ago. My how the time goes by."
Harry was now looking at a picture of a young, blonde haired girl. "That's our youngest, Erin Anne. She's five." The pictures kept coming. "This is Megan Louise, she just turned seven. And here's my only lad, Jason Lee. Quite the Quidditch junkie, he is. He'll turn nine in October. And here's our oldest…"
Harry could not believe the picture in front of him. She had black hair and green eyes identical to his own. She was much older than the others. It couldn't be? But now he remembered where he heard the name "Jameson" before. All this time…
"This is Clarice Anne. We adopted her as a baby back in November of '81. She was recently orphaned we were told. She was born Outside, but that didn't matter as she was so perfect. Maggie and I loved her from the moment we first saw her! She's fourteen now. Turns fifteen this September 5th. At the time, we were certain we could not have children of our own and the local Healer agreed. She was two months old when she came to us and is our pride and joy."
"She's lovely," Harry said, too shocked to say more. He knew now. By some miracle, fate maybe, he had found his younger sister!
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.
1. Hermione Jane (Granger) Potter, age 16; CONSORT (POTTER).
2. Dora (Tonks) Black-Potter, age 21; CONCUBINE (BLACK).
3. Minerva Grace (McGonagall) Potter-Black, age 68; CONCUBINE (POTTER).
4. Mallory Michelle (Grant) Black Potter, age 39; CONCUBINE (BLACK).
5. Daphne Renee (Greengrass) Black-Potter, age 16; CONCUBINE (BLACK).
6. Astoria Lynn (Greengrass) Potter-Black, age 14; CONCUBINE (POTTER).