CHAPTER NINETEEN: HOMECOMING
SATURDAY, JUNE 29, 1996 - Potter Manor
At dinner that night Harry left out many details about his day. He said he had a wonderful time and that he saw a lot of the estate, but not much else. All six women figured he was up to something, but he refused to say what.
"It'll be a surprise," he said with a huge smile on his face. "Now, do any of you have plans for tomorrow?"
"Not really," several said.
"I've still got some research for…" Hermione began.
"I should have said commitments," Harry said. "Clear your schedule, Hermione. It's Sunday! And I've got a nice surprise for my ladies."
They all asked what it could be.
"Now what kind of surprise would that be?" Harry asked.
Harry was pestered with questions the rest of the evening. In more romantic moments, one woman or another would attempt "pillow talk" yet all he would do is smile. All they knew is they were expected to be dressed and ready - and dress nicely, no jeans or slacks or such - and be ready at the front door of the Manor at 8:00 sharp! No lie ins!
"What about breakfast?" Hermione asked.
"It's a surprise," was all Harry said with a smile on his face.
SUNDAY, JUNE 30, 1996 - Potter Manor
Hermione had been sleeping in for almost two weeks now following her near death at the Department of Mysteries. Today had been a rude exception. There was no Harry in her bed to make it better. Promptly at 6:45, two Elves had woke her up almost rudely and she found herself being potioned for her injuries and her period and herded through her morning wake up. She had been showered half asleep, dressed while she barely noticed then plopped into a chair as the two Elves did her hair. She really had not noticed but was quite put out at the treatment, although she had to admit she had not looked this pretty perhaps since the Ball her Fourth Year. Still, she was quite moody and grumpy as she arrived in the large Foyer and met the others. Conspicuously absent was Harry.
"Where is he," She snapped. "If he's still lying in bed…"
"Hermione," Daphne said, "we have two possibilities here. This is either a good surprise or a stupid one. Let's just go with it for now."
Hermione looked at her and saw she had been done up too. All of them had been. They were all wearing nice, although not overly elegant dresses. Harry, obviously, wanted them to all look nice for some reason.
"If it's a bad one…," she began.
"Then we'll all know to jump on his case," Dora said.
"You two have any idea what this is about?" Hermione asked Minerva and Mallory who had slept with Harry the night before.
"We tried, Hermione," Mallory said.
"Pestered him as much as we could," Minerva said. "At least when he wasn't distracting us. I even used my teacher mode. It always worked when he felt guilty about something."
"And?"
"He's not feeling guilty at all. Not a clue!"
"I even threatened to not have sex with him," Mallory said. "He saw right through that one. I…"
"Does he have to be so good?" Dora asked.
Before anyone could answer, the front door opened and Harry stood there dressed in slacks, a jacket and an opened collared shirt.
"Ah," Harry said as he walked forward and gave Hermione a kiss. She felt it was loving, but not demanding. "Six visions of beauty," Harry continued as he then proceeded to kiss the others. "Your chariot awaits, my Ladies," he added after the last of them had been kissed.
Hermione looked out and saw a huge black car with all the four doors opened. "Harry, that's a…"
"Rolls-Royce Phantom Six," Harry said. "My granddad's. Hermione rides shotgun and the rest of you in back."
"And you?" Hermione asked.
"Driver."
"Harry James! Damn it! Do you even know how? Why? Why are you trying this?"
"Know how? Yes. Thank Tinker the Head Mechanic for that. Elf magic is amazing. Why? My Ladies deserve a date, don't you think? You've been stuck here for a week, Hermione. It's either this or brooms…"
"Harry! You're only fifteen! Surely you can't legally drive!"
"Actually, I can," Harry replied. "I'm not going to leave my property. Under the law, I only have to be twelve!"
"I don't believe…"
"Trust me on this. Please?" Harry begged. "Otherwise it's brooms!"
"And just where are we going?"
"Well, a drive."
"Anywhere in particular?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," Harry said. "I'm taking you Ladies down to Pottersport. I figured you might enjoy a spot of shopping."
"Without breakfast?" Daphne asked.
"There's a place we'll stop at along the way."
"Martha's?" Minerva asked.
Harry nodded. "I stopped by there yesterday. Martha is really looking forward to seeing you again, Minerva."
"Martha's?" Daphne asked.
"It's a lovely restaurant in Potter's Vineyard," Minerva said. "Quite popular and the food is fantastic."
"I better not come to regret this," Hermione said, as she walked down the steps and proceeded to sit in the front passenger seat. The others followed and climbed into the back of the car. There were two fold down jump seats right behind the front seat which Daphne and Astoria claimed while the other three sat in back, Minerva in the middle. Once they were all in the car, Harry closed the doors before sitting in the driver's seat.
"What changed your mind, Hermione?" he asked.
"I've never ridden in a Rolls before," she admitted sheepishly.
"We've never even ridden in a motorcar before," Astoria admitted.
"Then I shall endeavor to make your first motoring experience a pleasant one," Harry said as he started the engine.
They drove rather slowly and in silence around the large oval shaped drive and then turned onto the road leading away from the Manor and through a wood. Soon they approached and intersection and on either side of the road was a rather large house. Harry stopped the car.
"Tinker told me these are two of the guest houses here at the estate. They are also the closest to the Manor itself," Harry said. When I bring the Greengrasses and Grangers here, this is where they will live I think."
"It's bigger than where we used to live," Daphne noted.
"But Harry," Hermione said, "my parents are Muggles. How can they live in a magical home?"
Harry laughed.
"What? What's so funny?"
"I see I was not the only one so overwhelmed by everything to pay attention to some details," he said to Hermione.
"What are you talking about?"
"Have you noticed anything about the light fixtures in the Manor?"
Hermione seemed to think for a moment. Then she gasped. "They're electric!"
Harry nodded. "And there are electrical outlets as well. Probably telephone lines and I saw what looked like cable lines as well."
"When did you notice?"
"The fact that there's Muggle technology was pointed out to me when I was out yesterday. I noticed that the Manor had been wired as well last night."
"How? How can it work?"
"Muggle devices can be protected from magic," Harry said. "It's not done in the rest of Britain since that would encourage mixing with Muggles and might elevate Muggle Borns' status. Here, it's common place. The estate was electrified before the Second World War."
"And the power? Where does it come from?"
"There's a power plant in Pottersport that supplies the power to the Estate," Harry said. Harry put the car in gear again and made a right turn at the intersection.
"Daphne? Astoria?" Minerva asked, "there's something the two of you should know. And Hermione? You may want to pay attention as well."
"What do we need to know?" Daphne asked.
"First off, while you still live in the British Isles, you are no longer in magical Britain."
"What?"
"These lands which constitute the primary Potter estate are not under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic. You now live in the Duchy of Charenwell. It is an independent magical Country and has been for hundreds of years."
"But the invested Lord Potter has seats on the Wizengamot," Daphne said.
"Indeed," Minerva replied. "House Potter has significant holdings throughout magical Britain and as an original family; the Potters have a seat by right. They have maintained the seat by virtue of such holdings and for the purpose of trying to counter the Pureblood Aristocracy, which was why the Duchy withdrew from Britain in the first place.
"As an independent country, the Duchy makes its own laws and abides by the Statute of Secrecy as it deems appropriate. It has its own Gringotts branch, and can, as its Head of State desires, seat a representative on the International Confederation of Wizards assembly. As Lord Potter, Harry is the Head of State, of course."
"So he is the ruler?" Astoria asked.
"No, not really," Harry said.
"You knew about this?" Hermione asked.
"Remus told me some a couple of days ago. My position within the local government is mostly ceremonial and symbolic. I can veto a law I don't like and sack the Lord Mayor if I can show he has violated the Potter Charter, but aside from that, the day-to-day governance is left to the Lord Mayor, who is elected to five year terms by the people. The laws are made by the High Council which has seven members, each also elected to office for three year terms. Justice is handled by the Chancellor, who is a judge nominated to office by the Lord Mayor and High Council and appointed by me. He serves for so long as I allow him, apparently. If it is political power I want, I am much more powerful on the Wizengamot as, because of the House Potter and Black votes I control a large enough block directly to block any action by that body that I choose. Not quite a majority, though, so I can't pass legislation without help."
"You will find," Minerva continued, "that the society here is very different than what you were used to Outside. Blood status has no meaning here. Likewise the law and culture make no distinctions based upon magical ability. A Muggle here is equal to a witch or wizard in the eyes of the law and society. And yes, there are some Muggles here. Finally, and this is most important, your status as concubines does not carry any stigma here.
"As I am sure you are aware, Outside in the rest of Magical Britain, Concubines are at the lowest rung in magical society. Not so here. Although so far as I know it has been centuries since anyone here other than a Lord Potter or his heir has had a Concubine, the law and culture do not consider women such as us as little more than whores."
"Why?" Astoria asked.
"Several reasons, all relevant," Minerva answered. "First of all, aside from Remus Lupin and five of the six women in this car, every resident of the Duchy is either descended from the Concubine of a Lord Potter or is married to a descendant of such a Concubine. While people in magical Britain might look down upon what they believe are less worthy ancestors, such as Muggles, here each family takes pride in its heritage and as they are all at least distantly related, in each other's as well."
"So Harry is also descended from a Concubine?" Daphne asked.
"His Great-great Grandmother was the Concubine of Lord Edward Potter," Minerva said. "Lord Edward had a Consort, Veronica, who had five daughters but no sons. It was Lord Edward's Concubine Hillary who gave birth to Lord Charlus Potter, the first Lord Potter to whom I was bound.
"Throughout the long history of the Duchy, the Concubines of Lord Potter have proven women of distinction and have held the respect of the people. There have even been times when the Concubine was more respected than the wife or Consort, most recently during the life of Harry's Great Grandmother Dorea. She never got the idea that her blood status meant nothing and it rubbed people the wrong way.
"Lord Charlus's first Concubine Nellie was much beloved here. When she passed away, most of the Duchy attended her funeral. Only Lord Charles attended the funeral of Lady Dorea and even then he wanted to pass on it but could not."
"And you Minerva?" Hermione asked.
"She's quite popular with those who remember her," Harry said.
"Even with my most difficult students," Minerva seemed to chuckle.
"So magical children from here attend Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.
"Those of the Lord Potter do as do some others, but most attend St. George's in London."
"But if this is another country," Astoria began.
"The Board of Education that controls the magic schools in the British Isles is technically under the control of the I.C.W.," Minerva replied. "It is that Board that assigns students to the schools and as the Duchy has no school of its own and is geographically in the British Isles and ethnically English, its children attend St. George's, the English National School or Hogwarts."
"If education is the province of the I.C.W.," Hermione asked, "what was with the Ministry and Umbridge last year?"
"That was a violation of the Educational Covenants enacted at the same time as the Statute of Secrecy," Minerva said.
"And the I.C.W. did nothing?"
"The Ministry chose to keep silent on its illegal actions and, as Dumbledore quietly approved, he never reported it as well."
"But he's the Supreme Mugwump," Astoria protested.
"Hence his ability to avoid the nasty fallout that is probably going to take down Minister Fudge," Minerva said. "Had it not been for several factors, not in the least of which was Dumbledore's suggestion that if I did not keep my mouth shut he'd see me fired and turn Gryffindor House over to Umbridge, I would have done something. As it is, I submitted my request for retirement to the Hogwarts Board of Governors two weeks ago. I cannot work for that bastard Dumbledore anymore," Minerva sighed. "I hope you're not disappointed, Harry."
"Nope," he said. "Not in the least. And I may have an idea of how you can use your spare time around here."
"I'm a bit old to go back to teaching Primary School, Harry."
"I have another idea."
"What?"
"Later."
"You taught Primary School?" Hermione asked sensing Harry wanted the topic changed.
"I became Lord Charlus Potter's second Concubine when I was still at Hogwarts," Minerva said. "The fall after I finished, I started as a teacher at the local Primary School. Taught reading, writing and Literature. I did that for eleven years until my Charlus asked me to apply for a position as Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts to keep an eye on Dumbledore. It should be noted, that the Primary Schools here were founded by a Concubine of a Lord Potter two hundred years ago or so, as were the Secondary Schools for non-magical children. They were founded by another Potter Concubine."
"The local hospital was founded by a Concubine as well," Mallory added.
"As will be the maternity and pediatric clinic you're planning," Harry said.
"If - or should I say when you study the history of the Duchy," Minerva continued, "you will find there have been a fair few Concubines who are significant figures. A couple Lord Mayors, even more members of the High Council - all elected of course - and two of the more respected Chancellors, to name but a few. Here, your status is not secret. It is a position that is respected, or may be if you honor your position.
"As Harry's Concubines, you're addressed as Madam or Mrs. Potter - or Black as the case may be in formal settings. The only real distinction between you and Hermione is she is addressed as Lady Potter in formal settings."
"So what are you really telling us?" Daphne asked.
"Treat the people here as equals, as brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers," Minerva said. "Treat them with friendship, kindness and respect always. Do that, and you are truly Ladies. More important, do that and you will achieve more here in months than you could realistically expect to accomplish in magical Britain in a lifetime as a witch. Women here are not second class. They are the class they choose and seek be they wife, consort or concubine."
"I want to be a writer," Astoria said thinking. "I want to write real histories, not that rubbish Professor Binns puts us to sleep with at school. Has anyone written a history about this place?"
"Not unless one was written in my absence," Minerva said.
"Then I'll start there!"
"You slept through history," Daphne chided.
"I think," Harry said, "the only one who did not in the last fifty years was Hermione."
"Don't think I was never tempted," Hermione shot back. "Had I known it was the rubbish that it now seems, I would have brought a pillow to class!"
"Hermione? Sleeping in class? On purpose? That is something I'd pay to see!" Harry joked. "And don't hit me! I'm driving!"
"I want to write a book too," Daphne said softly. "Not a history, though. I want to write about the present in magical Britain and not about Death Eaters but the society that gives them existence."
"You do?" several asked at once.
"I will call it Magical Britain, A Concubine's Tale, I think," Daphne continued. "Something like that. It will be about how witches are treated in that society and it will hold nothing back. We are sent to school and while there led to believe there are no limits except those we place on ourselves only to have it crash down upon us. For us, sold into this life, the blow is fast and early. Story and I and the others here are exceptions as we were lucky to be bound to a man who seems to truly care. But we all know that we are exceptions and not the rule and that by being Concubines, we learned the true worth of a witch in old magical Britain sooner than most."
"Why?" Hermione asked with genuine interest.
"I'll be honest," Daphne replied. "Astoria and I had amazing luck in becoming Harry's. I can feel that I'll never regret that. But that's not the point. The point is we should never have had to become Harry's. A society that places women on such a low level, worse still, a society so bent upon bloodlines yet can still be forced to or choose to sell its daughters, a society that could consider selling its women off regardless of their parentage, … that society should not be allowed to exist."
"Daphne, if there was any other way I could have thought of to save you, Astoria and your family…" Harry began.
"I know you would have," Daphne said. "I also know that there was really no other way. Had the Death Eaters been smarter, Astoria and I might not be here at all. Thank you, Harry."
In addition to listening to Hermione, Daphne and Astoria comment on the scenery as he drove, Harry spend the remainder of the drive to Potter's Vineyard telling them all he had learned about the duchy the day before. Specifically, he told them about what it produced and his understanding as to how dependent magical Britain had become on that production. What he was not revealing yet was just what kind of sword that could be in the future. If Harry could figure out a way to keep his people employed and productive while at the same time cutting off all exports to magical Britain, he knew that would cause significant disruption. Kingdoms and Empires had fallen due to their inability to feed the people.
When they crested the ridge, Harry pointed out Potter's Vineyard in the valley below. He commented that he believed it was at least twice the size of Hogsmeade and mostly magical. Hermione huffed not in disbelief but over the realization that several of the books she had read about magical Britain were wrong.
"But love," Harry said as he pulled into a parking space in front of a shop near the stairs that led up to Martha's, "we're not in magical Britain, are we?"
"Good point," she chuckled.
As Harry got out of the car, he noticed the older gentleman who had spoken to him the day before standing next to Hermione's door.
"Need a hand, Lord Potter?" he asked.
"Please," Harry said as he opened the passenger door on his side and helped Daphne and Mallory get out of the car. Soon all the girls were out and the doors closed.
"Thank you, Sir," Harry said.
"I apologize, Milord."
"For what?"
"Had I known it was you yesterday…"
"Don't worry 'bout it. I appreciated the advice. And it's just Harry, please."
"John Richards," the man smiled. "An' ain't you just like Lord Charles. He was right down t' earth 'bout most things too. His one indulgence was his like for flash motorcars such as this one."
"Actually," Harry laughed, "this one's a bit fancy for my taste, but it was the only one that could hold my one indulgence."
"That being?"
"I'd like you to meet my wife and Consort, Hermione," Harry began. "And these are my other beautiful ladies: Astoria Greengrass Potter, her sister Daphne Greengrass Black, Dora Tonks Black, Healer Mallory Grant Black and Minerva McGonagall Potter."
"Aye, I remember Madam Minnie," Mr. Richards said. "She taught me reading and such in primary school when I was just a Lad. An' I see what you mean by indulgence."
"Long story," Harry said.
"No doubt. Been a long while since there's been more than one lady in residence. Lord Edward's day, I recall hearing tell. Black you said?"
Harry nodded.
"Lord Sirius is back is he?"
"Regretfully no. He passed away a couple weeks ago. He named me his heir."
"So you'd be Lord Black now too?"
Harry nodded.
"Sorry to hear 'bour Lord Sirius. He was always good for a laugh when he stopped 'round fer a trim."
"Trim?"
"That's my barbershop," Mr. Richards said indicating the store front behind him.
"You could use a trim, Harry," Hermione suggested.
"Later this week, I promise," he replied.
"Heading up to Martha's?" Mr. Richards asked.
"Yes sir," Harry replied. "Didn't get to try it there yesterday, so I figured I'd pop round today on the way into Pottersport for a day of shopping for my Ladies."
"Well, they say the special is Kippers fresh from the boat, but if you want my opinion, the omelets are the best thing on the morning menu."
"Thanks," Harry said. "And I will stop by this week for a trim."
"Looking forward to it, Harry."
Harry then led the others up the stairs to the restaurant.
Harry thought the breakfast had been wonderful. After several minutes of Martha and Minerva getting reacquainted and Minerva promising to stop by for tea on Tuesday, the Potter party was led out onto the deck and to a large table where Harry's Cousin Samantha Jones and her family was waiting. Harry had promised to introduce them and he had and he and they others joined the Jones family for breakfast. It turned out Mallory had delivered two of Samantha and her husband Ed's children. There was a daughter Nancy who was in the same year as Harry, Hermione and Daphne, but attended St. George's School in London and a son Michael who was about Astoria's age. There were three younger ones as well: Cynthia, Candice and Robert.
The food was excellent and the view from the deck of Potter's Vineyard and the valley was worth the climb, Hermione and Daphne said. Daphne and Astoria were dragged into a conversation with Nancy about what it was like being Harry's. This made them nervous at first, but they soon relaxed and, while staying clear of potentially risqué subjects, they told their new friend about how it had come to pass. As the Potter party began their drive towards Pottersport, the two Greengrass girls admitted they enjoyed the time more than they thought they would. It felt like family to them.
Hermione had been trying to figure out how many people lived in the Duchy and the proportions of magical to non-magical residents. The truth was no one really knew. There had not been a census in over one hundred years and the population was certainly much larger now. Mr. Jones knew about how many occupied homes there were - there were 152 in Potter's Vineyard, of that he was certain as they lived there. Charlestown was roughly twice as large, even though it was founded more than two hundred years later. Charlestown was built beginning in the 1930's to support R.A.F. Pottersport. Pottersport itself was maybe ten times as large as Potter's Vineyard. And there were about sixty to eighty families who lived in farm houses or the like. Hermione guessed the population to be between six and eight thousand, but that's all it was - a guess.
"Those people were really nice," Astoria said. "I mean they all were. None of the stuff we saw back home. No Pureblood silliness or any of that."
"A fair few here probably qualify as Purebloods and a fair few don't," Minerva said. "To them, to us there are no such things. We are citizens of the Duchy and that's all that matters. You will find, however, they don't like what they call Outsiders."
"What are Outsiders?" Daphne asked.
"People who live outside the Duchy," Minerva said. "People who do not call this place home."
"But we're from the outside," Astoria observed.
"Ah, but you now live here," Minerva said. "Makes you a local in their eyes. You'll find there are few visitors here. Those few were all born here but left for their own reasons. While their families are still nice to them, most of the others ignore them."
"I've lived here on and off for nine years now," Dora said. "They consider me to be one of their own. They have since they first met me when I was but fifteen."
"Ain't no good that ever came from living Outside," Harry quoted.
"What's that?" Hermione asked.
"Something I heard quite a lot of yesterday. The implication being had I grown up here, all the stuff that happened to me would not have."
"They're probably right about that."
"That's Potter Castle," Harry announced has they rounded a bend. It was a good mile or so away and they could see the high walls and towers. Hogwarts Castle had a magical, almost fairytale look to it. Potter Castle was the real deal, built to withstand a siege. The walls were whitewashed and what roofs that could be seen were of red tile, but it looked imposing as opposed to inviting. It reminded Hermione of the Tower of London and Windsor and a few other places all mixed together.
"I thought you said Pottersport was just beyond it," Daphne commented.
"It is," Harry replied as they drew closer. "The castle is on a bluff over the town. The bluff is a hundred feet or more high so we can't see the town yet. The road winds its way down the bluff."
The main road headed off to the right of the castle, but there was a branch to the left that seemed to head right for it. Harry turned onto this road. They could now see lower, grey walls of stone capped with grass on top and notches here and there with large black pipes pointed outward. The wall was not strait in any direction. It sloped upwards about twenty feet above the surrounding lands and was built with all kinds of sharp angles. It was well in front of the castle proper.
"It's a bastion," Hermione observed.
"A what?" Harry asked.
"That castle looks like it was from the Middle Ages," she said. "It could stand against the siege engines of the day. Against cannon, though, not so much. The lower walls are a bastion. They are probably far enough away from the castle walls to prevent cannon fire directly and the cannon they mount would make any approach difficult. Despite the Wards, it would seem a previous Lord Potter took his defenses seriously."
The car soon crossed a bridge over what Hermione called a dry moat and through a narrow gate in the wall of the bastion. Once through on the other side, Harry and the others saw the road lined with men in red coats with strange looking triangular hats, wide white belts forming an "X" across their chests and what looked like really old wooden rifles that were being held vertically in front with the triggers and such facing the center of the road. All looked very stiff and formal. Another man, also in a red coat but without a rifle or the "X" stood in the center of the road. Harry had no choice but to stop and the man walked over to his door. Harry rolled down the window.
"Is something going on, Sir?" Harry said to the man, "I mean I agreed to meet some friends here for some shopping and…"
"No problem, Lord Potter. Please park your car just beyond the line of guards and you and your party can get out for your ride up to the castle."
"Erm, right." Harry did as he was told. As soon as his car was parked - and he could see there were a fair few cars also parked in the area, he reached for the door, but it was already opening as were all the other doors to the car. Harry recognized the man holding his door. It was Remus Lupin. He was wearing a set of robes, but they were unlike any wizarding robes Harry had ever seen. They were brown, not really loose fitting and had a fur collar. Remus was also wearing a large and ornate gold chain that seemed to be draped over his shoulders.
"Remus? What's going on?" Harry asked. "And why are you dressed like that?"
"I'd like to say this was just something I threw on," Remus said with a laugh. "But seriously, these are the ceremonial robes worn by the Lord Mayor."
"You're the Lord Mayor?"
Remus nodded. "Elected to my second term last year," he added with a smile. "Now follow me please," he said to Harry and the others. They followed and Harry noted that the three older witches did not look as bewildered as the younger ones or as he felt. Remus led them to two tents. "Ladies," he indicated that they were to enter the larger of the two. As they did, Harry was motioned into the smaller one. He noticed there was a barber's chair and what looked like another set of fancy robes hanging on a stand. John Richards was there smiling at him.
"Have a seat, Harry," Remus said.
Reluctantly and still confused, Harry sat in the chair. "Remus? What is going on?"
"Well, your ladies are having their hair done and then getting dressed up and goodness knows you need a haircut," Remus reply.
"That's not what I meant," Harry growled hearing the snipping of scissors as Mr. Richards began cutting. "I like it long in front," Harry said, "hides the scar."
"And what scar would that be," Mr. Richards asked.
"Oh, right," Harry said. He had forgotten that the scar had vanished somehow when he and Hermione completed their bonding a week ago. "Remus, what is really going on? What's with the soldiers and…"
"The soldiers are from the Charenwell Guards. It's mostly ceremonial. They drill once a month or so and a couple of times a year they are called out for a special function. Thirty-five serve the artillery battery on the bastion for salutes. There are one-hundred twenty infantry and forty in the cavalry. It dates back to when an ancestor of yours answered the call of King George and raised troops to fight Napoleon. It was only about a battalion, but the King's government was very appreciative. Men from here have served in Her Majesty's armed forces ever since.
"As for why they are here today? Well Harry, they are going to escort you to your Investiture."
"My what?"
"The formal recognition of your becoming Lord Potter and the Duke of Charenwell."
"Remus, you know how I hate…"
"Which was why no one told you, Harry," Remus chuckled. "And fortunately, you never asked. I'm sure had you known you would have spent your time trying to figure out a way to get out of it altogether. Your Grandfather sure did try, and he had known what was coming for years. He hated the pomp as well. But, this is about as formal as it gets around here. And the good news is it will probably never happen again in your lifetime, unless you choose to abdicate the title in favor of your son."
"There's no way to get out of this?"
"No Harry. They've been planning this for weeks."
"What do I have to do?" Harry surrendered.
"Not much," Remus said and then told Harry about the ceremony.
What Harry had thought was a robe was more like a uniform. It was deep blue in color with some kind of gold lacing abound the high collar, on some kind of boards on the shoulders, around the cuffs of the tunic and along the outside seams of the trousers. An odd leather belt was worn on the outside of the tunic with a strap that went from his left front waist, up and over his right shoulder beneath the gold board and down across his back to the left back of his belt. The only other adornment on the suit was the Potter crest embroidered in rich thread just above his right breast. His hair was cropped short, so short that its tendency to defy attempts at taming was no longer an issue. With no scar to hide, he liked the look.
"Shall we go and meet the world Harry?" Remus asked.
"If we must."
Harry walked out of the tent and looked over at the women's tent. Three of the six were also outside, all identically attired or almost so. Minerva, Mallory and Dora all were wearing white dresses with hems just above the ankles. Around their midsections was a broad, silk blue sash that matched the color of Harry's outfit perfectly and, because Dora had her backed turned, he would see the sash was tied somehow in a huge bow at the base of the back. The dresses were strapless and cut low enough to show an enticing yet tasteful amount of cleavage, should the lady have some. Another blue sash was hanging from each of their right shoulders to their left waist and was again tied into a fancy bow at the waist. Their hair was done up, each in a manner that was totally flattering for them and they were each wearing what looked like diamond choker necklaces and matching earrings, the necklaces mimicking their collars that only he and they could see. They each had a gold band of some kind on their heads prominent just above the forehead and disappearing seemingly beneath their hair just below and behind their ears. They were also wearing white gloves. Minerva's reached practically to her elbows while the other two's pair stopped at the wrist. They all looked beautiful and elegant.
Minerva was closest to him, so Harry went up to her first. "You are a vision of eternal beauty," he said getting her attention.
"You are quite dashing yourself, Milord Potter," Minerva replied, "and I really like your hair that way."
"I only kept it long because of that bloody scar."
"And what happened to it?"
"Hermione and Remus are trying to figure that one out," Harry shrugged. "But I mean it, Minerva. You look lovely. If they made you look any younger, my thoughts alone might land me in Azkaban!"
"And what do you mean by that?" Minerva asked. "What kind of thoughts?"
"Impure ones for certain!"
"You're incorrigible, Harry," Minerva chuckled.
"So did you know about this?" Harry asked. Minerva probably knew more about the Estate than anyone else in his House. Harry figured she had to have known about this.
"I knew there would be one eventually," Minerva said. "It's never happened before that the ascending Duke was under the age of seventeen and Sirius and Remus never told me of their plans in this regard. My guess is they were certain I would have told you."
"And Dora and Mallory didn't know as well?"
"Had Sirius lived, he may have told them. But my guess is he did not just in case. Had he told them, upon bonding they would have been compelled to tell you and - well, we who love you know how thrilled you are at this sort of thing."
"Is there anything else I should know?"
Minerva looked up at the castle. Two large flags flew from the towers of the gatehouse. One was the Union Jack of Great Britain and the other was the flag of the Duchy.
"The good knew is it appears Her Majesty was unable to attend."
"Her Majesty? You mean Queen Elizabeth? How do you know?"
"Her Majesty attended the investiture of your Grandfather. I'm told King George V attended Charlus's and Queen Victoria attended Lord Edward's."
"Why would the Queen…?"
"The Duchy is an independent magical realm. But neither the Duchy nor magical Britain are truly independent from the Muggle realms. The Minister for Magic by Charter is entrusted with maintaining the Queen's peace amongst our kind in Great Britain and Northern Ireland and, since its independence, the Minister is charged with maintaining the peace amongst our kind in the Republic of Ireland as well. You and your Lord Mayor hold a similar Charter from the Crown. The difference is, the Duke of Charenwell has always considered that his primary duty, whereas the Minister is probably unaware that he rules only by Her Majesty's leave.
"Ordinarily, the new Duke is invested on a date at least one year and a day after the death or announced abdication of the last Duke. This is to allow sufficient time to coordinate with Her Majesty's Private Secretary and Her Majesty. Obviously, there has not been enough time and as more than a year has passed since Charles passed on, all that was required for you to become the next Duke was your emancipation, Harry."
"Thank you for that," Harry said. He then kissed Minerva tenderly. "And I meant what I said, Minerva, you do look lovely."
Harry then went over to Mallory and Dora each in turn and complimented them as well. He was sincere when he said he thought they looked amazing and blushed when they used words like regal, handsome, or as Dora had said "a real dish," to describe him. Daphne and Astoria soon joined him and they looked spectacular. He told them and was rewarded with larger smiles than he had anticipated from the honest compliment. He was hugged and kissed by both of them.
"Thank you, Harry," Astoria said. "This day is so special and thank you for sharing it with us."
"I hate being famous," Harry grumped.
"We know," Daphne said softly. "You never asked to be The Boy-Who-Lived. We saw how you hated it. Why would anyone want to be famous for what happened that night? But you are. This, however, is different."
"Don't see how," Harry complained.
"Harry, this is not your fame," Daphne said as soothingly as she could. "This is about your family. It's about what your family has done for these people for hundreds of years. It is about what they hope you will do for them as well, but your ancestors have paved that trail. You were not born to be the hero of the wizarding world, but you were born to be the Duke of Charenwell. Had you grown up here, this was in your future. Years and years from now as by all rights Lord Charlus would still be alive as would have been your father and grandfather."
"You're the youngest Duke ever, Harry," Astoria said. "We just learned that. Most Dukes rise to the position when they are grandfathers or even later. But we are with you, Harry. You will be great because we won't let you be anything less."
"All of you?"
"All of us," a new voice said. It sounded like Hermione, but the woman in the elegant blue dress was an angel in Harry's eyes. At the Yule Ball, she had taken his breath away with her beauty. Now, this vision was so much more so, Harry melted. There was nothing about her that was not perfect. Her deep blue dress showcased the young woman she had become in a tasteful and elegant way. Her hair was amazing and she wore a diamond encrusted tiara that seemed to highlight her. Harry barley noticed the other jewels she wore. A blue sash hung from her right should embroidered with the Potter crest. She wore blue gloves that matched her dress and rose to just below her elbows.
"W-wow," he stuttered. "Hermione? Wow!"
"Thanks Harry," Hermione said with a blush.
"You really are beautiful," Harry added and was rewarded by a deepening blush.
"Milord," Astoria said somewhat formally, "might I present Lady Hermione, the Duchess of Charenwell."
"Milady," Harry smiled before drawing the sixth woman of that morning into a long kiss. "You really do look wonderful," he whispered when they finally stopped.
"Thanks," she blushed back again. Harry loved that. "But try not to wrinkle the dress. I want to look perfect for the pictures and for when we dance together later."
"Dance?" Harry asked in confusion. "No one told me about a dance."
"The investiture is followed by a banquette and a ball, Harry. And we all expect you to dance with us."
"But I can't dance!" Harry protested.
"Don't sell yourself short, Potter," Hermione almost scolded. "Parvati said you were her best dance partner of the night."
"But she hated it!"
"No, she was upset you ignored her and even more upset when it was clear you wanted to dance with someone else but lacked the courage to cut in."
"Sorry."
"I got you in the end, didn't I?" Hermione whispered.
Harry nodded.
"So we will dance then?"
"I suppose."
"COMPANY! TEN-HUT!" a man's voice bellowed from nearby. Harry looked in the direction of the voice and saw the soldiers snap to a near rigid posture, their rifles resting butt down on the ground held in their right hand along the seams of their trousers as if they had been petrified. "FIX BAYONNETS!" the voice commanded and Harry and the others watches as a hundred or so dressed in red uniforms drew threatening looking blades and affixed them to the end of their rifles in perfect unison before resuming their rigid posture. "PRESENT! ARMS!" the voice ordered. In three uniform, simultaneous, stiff and sharp movements, the soldiers brought their rifles from their sides to a position held in front of them vertically.
BOOM! There was a loud noise to the left and behind Harry. Instinctively, he turned and looked and saw a cloud of white smoke in the distance just beyond one of the cannons of the Bastion. The next cannon over, there was a soldier with a long stick who seemed to touch it to the cannon. BOOM! The cannon went off and another cloud of smoke appeared.
"Remus?" Harry said, "what's going on? Are we under attack?"
"Gun salute, Harry," Remus replied. "No attack. They are saluting their Head of State."
BOOM! Another gun went off. Eighteen more guns would fire as the breeze brought the smell of sulfur and charcoal across the field and drifting around and beyond Harry and the others. When the last of the twenty-one guns had fired, the voice bellowed again. "ORDER ARMS!" The soldiers returned their rifles to their sides. "LEFT FACE!" As a unit, the soldiers turned sharply to the left. "SHOULDER ARMS!" and again as a unit, the rifles soon were being carried stiffly at the right shoulders of all the soldiers.
"Right then," Remus said, "let's get into the carriages for the ride up to the castle."
There were two open carriages, each drawn by two horses and each painted in a deep blue with gold trim and the Potter crest emblazoned prominently on the side. Daphne, Astoria, Dora and Mallory boarded the first carriage, while Remus joined Harry, Hermione and Minerva in the second. Remus and Minerva took the front seat which faced the rear and Harry and Hermione took the front facing rear seat.
A high pitched drum began a steady beat, it was soon joined by others and a piercing noise filled the air. Harry looked and saw what he knew were bagpipes in the distance ahead of him. They began marching towards the castle playing a tune Harry had heard before but could not name.
"Oh my," Minerva said. "Scotland the Brave!"
"What?" Harry began.
"That's what they're playing, Harry," Hermione said. "It's a famous bagpipe march."
"And the unofficial National Anthem of Scotland," Minerva added, her Scottish brogue more noticeable than usual. The soldiers were now marching off following the pipers and soon the carriages were rolling forward as well. Behind, the cavalry followed.
"Remus, what's going on?" Harry said.
"I know you hate fame," Remus said. "But this day really is not about you, Harry. The people of the Duchy of Charenwell have been without a Duke for almost eight years and have lived in fear of the British Ministry for Magic. With your return, their fears are allayed. This is their day more so than yours, Harry. Remember that. And be sure to smile and wave when we enter the Castle."
"I'm going to hate this," Harry grumbled.
"Harry James," Hermione said, "this is the legacy left to you by your family! You think I want to be the Princess of Wales? But I am here for you! Smile and wave - and you will dance with me, so suck it up and take one for your family!"
"Yes Dear," Harry replied. His voice sounded moping, but there was a smile on his face as he leaned over to kiss his wife of less than a week, "your wish is my command," he added as the carriage entered the gatehouse and he could here cheers ringing from beyond the gate.
"Smile and wave, Harry," Hermione said. "Oh, I so wish my parents could see this."
"Why?"
"I married my handsome Prince, my Knight in shining armor and all of that and that was before I knew that he was any of that. Now, oh my, Harry! How can they object to me being your wife? Give us a kiss and - and don't break it until all can see?"
"How can I say no to that," Harry chuckled relaxing for the first time since he drove into the fortress. As his carriage emerged from the Gatehouse, he could hear the cheers from a large crowd of people. For several seconds he continued to kiss his wife and could care less about the crowd or noise. When she finally broke the kiss and began waiving, he saw that there were hundreds if not thousands in the crowd. He looked forward and saw the great keep of the Castle. Steps lead up to a grand arched entrance and it seemed there were dignitaries of some sort awaiting the arrival of the carriages as they approached. A huge banner was draped across the side of the keep.
"WELCOME HOME, HARRY!!" it proclaimed.
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. (Gr-6) indicates the House or school the girl was in and the year they last finished. No number indicates NEWTs or beyond. SG, SA, SP are for the other three schools.
Harry James Potter, age 15.
1. Hermione Jane (Granger) Potter, age 16 (Gr-5); CONSORT (POTTER).
2. Dora (Tonks) Black-Potter, age 21 (Hu); CONCUBINE (BLACK).
3. Minerva Grace (McGonagall) Potter-Black, age 68 (Gr); CONCUBINE (POTTER).
4. Mallory Michelle (Grant) Black Potter, age 39 (Hu); CONCUBINE (BLACK).
5. Daphne Renee (Greengrass) Black-Potter, age 16 (Sl-5); CONCUBINE (BLACK).
6. Astoria Lynn (Greengrass) Potter-Black, age 14 (Sl-3); CONCUBINE (POTTER).
To answer one question not related to plot: How could I write this and some of the other stories I have written. They are SO different. ANSWER: I don't like being typecast. It was an interesting challenge to write this and have a story and not just a lot of creative descriptions of certain acts...