Chapter Thirteen - Wendell, Monica and Sirius

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to the proverbial Duchess of Magic, JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. No matter how much I whine about not owning anything related to the HP universe, other than a few fanfic plots, I do not profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world... Damn it!

A/N: Now comes the explanation for the 'odd' punishments for the professors. Malfoy's will be better explained later.

Chapter Thirteen - Wendell, Monica and Sirius

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As Harry knew would happen and also knew that was why Hermione sat him to her father's left, Wendell was asking some rather subtle questions about his relationship with Hermione. However, he wasn't getting much help from her in answering them as she was getting similar questions from her mother.

The two aurors answered questions when asked, but seemed to spend most of the time being amused watching the interplay between the two muggle adults and the two magical teens.

Both aurors knew very well what the two adults were trying to learn and both teens seemed utterly unaware of it.

During a break in the 'interrogation' the female auror, the senior of the two, said across the table to Harry, "Just so you're aware, Lord Potter, we're not supposed to dine with you. And we're certainly not supposed to dine together. At least one of us is supposed to be standing guard."

"Senior Auror Standish, right?" asked Harry.

"Auror First Class, My Lord."

"Thank you," he nodded. "Well, while you're supposed to be my bodyguard - and that's not something I ever agreed to, just so you know - you're also Doctor and Doctor Grangers' guests.

"On top of that, I know you and your... contingent... have thrown up plenty of your own wards and alert charms since well before I started cooking and both inside and outside the ones I had caused to be erected. Whether you're eating or just standing and watching will not make a skerrick of a difference in whether or not you'll be ready if trouble comes a-calling."

"Wards?" asked Wendell, just beating out Hermione to the question.

"Yes, Sir... Wendell," Harry replied before the auror could. "Which reminds me. Before coming here I organised with my account manager at Gringotts to organise a team of Ward Masters to come and place wards and charms on your home that will greatly reduce the chance of a magical attack being successful against you.

"On top of that, there is a ward that will redirect the attention of any non-magical who comes to your home with the intent to cause mischief; such as breaking and entering, burglary, swindling, that sort of thing. Sorry, but that was about the strongest sort of wards I could have installed on your home that did not get me in trouble with magical law."

"What are the other wards; the ones against magicals?" he asked.

"There's an alert ward that will let me know if a magical attempts to attack your home, one that will stun a magical that tries to attack your home... and Dobby will alert the aurors if that ward catches someone... one specifically erected to stun Albus Dumbledore if he tries to come to the home, a fire retardant ward on the outside of the home and two wards that will block anyone from using two forms of magical travel that can see them suddenly arrive, for instance, right in the middle of your daughter's bedroom - that sort of thing."

"Anti-portkey and anti-apparation?" Hermione immediately asked.

"Yep," he replied. Looking back to Wendell he said, "You actually won't have any inkling they're even active until someone tries to attack or illegally enter. And then Dobby or one or all of the aurors, if they're still here at the time, are suddenly going to move real fast!"

"How long will these wards remain in place?" pressed Wendell.

"The ones the aurors erected this afternoon are only temporary. It depends on the amount of magical power they pump into them and, even then, a determined mischief-maker can break through them pretty quickly. However, the aurors who put them up will know as soon as he or she tries; hence the reason for them.

"The ones I had caused to be put up are permanent. Or, are permanent until you ask me to have them taken down.

"Which leads to a formal question I must ask you," said Harry. "Do you have a middle or more names?"

"Yes, it's Marcade," replied a slightly confused Wendell. "Why?"

"Because I need to ask the question using your full name," replied Harry. Sitting up straighter, placing his cutlery on the table before him and looking fully at Wendell with quite the serious expression, he asked, "Wendell Marcade Granger of House Granger, do I, Harrison James Potter, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient of Potter, have your retroactive permission to have erected upon your home wards to see to the protection of you and yours as long as you and or they reside in this home?"

Not knowing why, but also knowing he had the right to say no, he replied, "I, Wendell Marcade Granger of House Granger, do so permit." Then looked shocked at Harry.

Harry grinned back and said, "Magic's determined you would allow it so gave you the words to respond in the affirmative. If you wanted to say no it would have given you those words to say, instead. I also think it proves you're not as much a muggle as people seem to think. You'd have to have at least a little magic for the magic of the request to have had an effect upon you."

"Why was that important?" he asked.

"Because magical law actually states I wasn't supposed to do it without your permission," replied Harry. "However, I knew we were pressed for time to receive your permission before we would be arriving here. If I'd waited, then it would have taken about three to four days from now before they could be erected. And I think Dumbledore, at least, is going to try turning up here to take me away before then. Plus, I promised the senior auror who was here earlier that I would ask for your permission this evening and not wait."

The female auror looked to her partner and said, "Not a word."

"No, First," he immediately replied.

"To whom?" asked Monica, of the auror.

"Anyone else bar those in the aurors who have the need to know," she replied. "By our laws, Harry had actually committed a crime doing that. But, based on the nature of what it was, he would very likely have only received a substantial fine, rather than be convicted to serve time in our prison."

Harry again grinned and said, "There's actually a loophole in the law that states no wizard or witch may do it. By me contracting the goblins to do it I skirted around the law, but not the intent of it. Secondly, the law actually states I have to have permission to do it, not that the permission has to be in advance."

The female auror sighed and said to Harry, "I really wish you would stop doing that. You seem to have developed this annoying habit of making us all look like idiots."

Hermione snickered and said, "You've only just noticed?"

"Auror Standish is new to having to follow me around," grinned Harry.

The auror wryly said, "That's because others before me have begged not to do it any more, because they were sick and tired of Lord Potter making them feel stupid."

Even Harry chuckled at that one. "I'm sorry, I just can't help it.

"These wards you had installed to protect us. How much did they cost? I already know the goblins don't do anything that doesn't make them good profit."

"A hell of a lot less than I consider the lives of you, Monica and Hermione to be worth," Harry replied.

"I notice you didn't include your own in that."

"I'm protected because you're protected," he replied. "But, yes, the wards are up to protect me, too. They're up permanently to protect you and your wife. You're important to Hermione and, therefore, important to me."

"And you still haven't told me how much they cost," Wendell pressed.

"No, I haven't," Harry shrugged. "However, I really don't know how much they cost because it wasn't an important consideration when I organised them. I instructed my account manager to get the best that a muggle household could have and he did just that. My only contribution to that was to ensure there was a personal ward installed that blocked Albus Dumbledore from being able to get onto the property no matter what method he tried.

"Has Hermione ever told you that Albus Dumbledore has a phoenix?"

"Yes, I believe she has."

"Well, a phoenix can get through any ward. It has a form of magical travel that is simply referred to as flame travel. Dumbledore needs to only be in contact with it for it to flame travel him near instantly to any location on the planet. And that includes through any ward," explained Harry.

"So, what I did was convince the goblins to erect a field inside a ward that, if Albus Dumbledore appears within it, will instantly stun him unconscious. And, while he remains in that field, he cannot be enervated. The only way he can be woken again is for him to be taken outside that field. In that way Dumbledore cannot enter this home with any intention, let alone ill-intention, and remain conscious."

"He's that dangerous?" asked Wendell. "I thought he was supposed to be the Headmaster of your school. And was also supposed to be the Leader of Light?"

"Yeah, he's had everyone fooled for far too long," scowled Harry. "I seem to have the ability to be immune to any memory altering magics. Albus Dumbledore did not know that and for many years has been using memory-altering charms to cover up his wrongdoings; including trying to use them on me.

"I saw the opportunity to bring to light a great many criminal matters and took it," nodded Harry. "Even I, at the time, had no idea just how much of an effect it would have. I also made sure that the Director of Magical Law Enforcement was an honoured guest to the event and not-so-subtly suggested she bring a whole slew of aurors with her. She trusted me enough to do precisely that.

"At the end of my... task... ten people had been arrested and a further two were being hunted down to be arrested. Albus Dumbledore and the then Minister of Magic were two such individuals who were led away in magical-suppression handcuffs. Others included the Deputy Headmistress, who was the one to come here to talk to you about your daughter going away to Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, and all three other Heads of Houses at Hogwarts.

As a result of the trials Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House and Mistress of Transfiguration, lost her job and is banned from ever working in a position of authority over a child ever again; Filius Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw House and Charms Master, lost his position as Head of House but remains a Professor of Charms; Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master, was sent to prison for life; and only Pomona Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff House and Mistress of Herbology, escaped with only a stern warning.

"Other Professors taken away were Rubeus Hagrid, Professor of Care of Magical Creatures, who lost his job as a Professor but retained his position as Groundskeeper; the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts was found to be a fake named Barty Crouch Junior and an unknown-until-then escapee of the prison and was immediately sent back there; and a few days ago experts from the Ministry came in to do something secret and, while there, banished the ghost of Cuthbert Binns, Professor of History of Magic, on to the afterlife. The school medi-witch, Poppy Pomfrey, was found to have been suffering under repeated obliviations, had her memory modified and was dosed with loyalty potions supposedly keyed to the Headmaster. She's quit; and I don't think she will be the only one.

Wendell frowned a little in confusion and said, "The punishments meted out to each of the professors and your relatives seem... quite odd."

"Uh-huh," said Harry.

"They were... unbalanced," he explained. "I can see why this Mister Hagrid fellow only just skipped out of suitable punishment; and why the Deputy Headmistress was sacked without gaol time; but the other punishments did not seem to meet them for their severity."

Harry gave a nod and said, "Severus Snape's was obvious. What he did merited a lifetime imprisonment - just for the use of the Unforgivables. The use of such, even once, is supposed to be a lifetime sentence to Azkaban. That he used them multiple times..." And shrugged.

"Hagrid's punishment was, I think, appropriate. However, because it was proven he was not guilty of the death of Myrtle Warren back in the 1940s, I think continuing to deny him wand rights was unfair. Further, I think he should have been compensated for that travesty of justice. That was his blood status as a half-giant unfairly having an effect on the vote; politics interfering with judicial process.

"McGonagall's punishment was also, I think, apt. If it wasn't for her being under a mild loyalty potion I believe she should have also gone to prison for her crimes. Her being under that loyalty potion is, I think, what saved her.

"I think Flitwick saved himself his own prison sentence because he was very contrite and offered the early plea. He even provided them further evidence against him. That, plus he's also well loved by practically everyone. He has just that sort of personality."

Adopting a look of disgust, he continued, "Now comes where politics interfered with the judicial process.

"Pomona Sprout should have also been dismissed as a Head of House. She might not have been a part of what happened to young Luna; however, she did nothing to stop the bullying and other crap that was directed towards me, both during second year and the beginning of this year. She was also responsible for one of those traps during our first year. However, she's a pureblood of an Elder House; Urquhart. And, yes, blood status does play a role; no matter how much people try to deny that.

"Then there was Dumbledore. And this is where it became even flat-out obvious, even to those I consider daft morons, that politics interfered with due process. The reactions of those watching from the visitors' gallery were proof enough of that. Dumbledore, having been involved in politics for a great many years, knows where a great many secrets are buried. He also has a great many 'welded-on' supporters in the Wizengamot, who see him as the so-called 'Leader of the Light'. For them, it matters not a jot what laws the man breaks; if he did it, then he must have had a good and 'light' reason for it. And it is not for us lesser beings to question him on it.

"No," he shook his head, "I was not surprised Dumbledore didn't get sent to gaol. He was punished by the permanent loss of his positions on the ICW and as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Plus, with what Chief Adjudicator Ogden said, I think they also wanted to fire him, by banning him, from his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts. They couldn't do that because, apparently, the man has permanent tenure there."

Wendell said, "And is proof the concept of keeping the judicial and legislative branches of government separate is a very good one."

Harry could only nod back. "Yes, Ss... errr, Wendell."

"Damn!" muttered Monica. "You really went to town, didn't you?"

"Yes... Monica," he replied. "It is because of that great culling of staff that Hogwarts cannot currently operate as a school. It has led the School Board to allow students to go home for the duration; that is, until they can hire new staff to fill all the vacancies. That's how Hermione was able to come home."

Dessert was soon served by the simple expedient of Dobby banishing the used cutlery and crockery and replacing it with a serving to each of a section of egg custard in pie pastry. The custard was firm enough to stand without oozing away. Two serving tureens were placed in the centre of the table with whipped unsweetened cream and scooped vanilla icecream balls.

This time the two Granger adults weren't so surprised.

With his own serving of egg custard pie and a scoop of icecream, after a large spoonful of it was tasted Wendell finally flat-out asked, "Harry, are you and our daughter a couple?"

With his own full spoon already half-way to his mouth, Harry froze for a moment, before he returned it to his plate. "Errr... No, Sir... I mean, no Wendell. Hermione and I are just the best of friends."

"Just?" asked Hermione.

Harry was thankful he saw the small smile curling up the ends of her lips.

"Well... not 'just', I suppose," he replied. "I currently think of Hermione as... well... my sister doesn't quite fit the mold either, I guess. But... it's more than that."

Confused, but clearly thinking about it as he looked off into the distance he was a long moment before he replied, "For quite some time now I can't see my life without her a part of it. She's more 'family' to me than my own relatives. She was the only one there for me when my name came out of the Goblet of Fire; and I'm including the staff in that. Plus, she was there for me over that whole Heir of Slytherin nonsense in second year.

"She's... like... she sees me... not the 'Boy-Who-Lived'...not Lord Potter... not the son of James and Lily Potter... me. She tells me off when she thinks I'm going to or have done something wrong and congratulates me when I've done something right. She knows my flaws, but it doesn't turn her away from me. She accepts me for who I am; and not what other people think I am."

What Harry didn't see as he talked, because he was still somewhat staring off into the distance, was the reactions on the faces of the three Grangers. Hermione was staring at him in shocked awe while she slowly blushed almost scarlet. But the two Granger parents were staring at each other, only allowing their gazes to occasionally glance at the two teens, while listening with various expressions flittering across their faces. Monica was smirking at her husband while Wendell's went from almost horrified to pained acceptance. Which had Monica's smirk turn into a grin.

Turning to look at the girl sitting beside him he looked her right in the eye and said, "Meeting you was the best thing that's ever happened to me, Hermione. I'm sure I would have died before―"

That was as far as he got before Hermione dived at him to hug him hard enough it knocked them both off his chair and over to land on the floor beside Wendell's own.

"Oof!" he exclaimed.

Wendell merely glanced down to his side before bringing both elbows up onto the table to cradle his head in his hands. Then he just sighed.

The two aurors just glanced at one another and grinned.

Monica leaned over to look down the side of the table to the floor for a long moment before she sat back up straight, openly grinned at her husband again and continued to eat the delicious dessert Harry had prepared, ignoring everything else for a while.

Harry laid on his back for a few moments, wondering why the girl chose that moment to practically attack him. He knew he'd been giving her a bit of a hard time over the past week and a half, just to get through to her he wasn't the 'old' Harry she thought he was, so couldn't figure out why she waited until now.

Hermione laid with her head on his chest, her arms around his neck, her chest on his tummy and the rest of her body draped over the on-its-side dining room chair. Then sniffled.

"H-Hermione?" asked a confused Harry. "Why'd you attack me?"

"I'm not attacking you, you clot!" she replied. "I'm hugging you."

"Oh," he quietly said.

"Hermione, dear," said her mother. "I think you should let Harry up so he can finish this wonderful dessert he's made for us."

"In a minute!" she sobbed back.

Monica gave herself a firm nod and quickly set to finishing her plate. She knew she needed to.

"Princess," called her father. "Please let the boy up."

Hermione laid there for a few moments more before she softly cried, "Okay."

As she climbed up, while looking away at the wall, Harry just laid there.

When she found her feet and while still not looking at anyone she quickly ran from the room.

Monica gave a sigh and quickly swallowed the last mouthful on her plate before she used her napkin to dab at her mouth. "Excuse me," she quietly said. "Delicious meal, Harry." Then rose to her feet and left the room, chasing after her daughter.

Wendell looked up, dropped his elbows off the table and, after a glance at Harry, returned to finishing his dessert.

"She hugs really hard," Harry quietly said as he began to climb to his own feet.

Righting his chair, he looked about and asked, "Where'd she go? And Monica?"

When it didn't look like Wendell was going to answer, Auror Standish replied, "The ladies have just gone to talk for a bit, My Lord. Nothing for you to worry about."

"Oh," he replied, sitting back upon his chair again. "Well, I hope they at least liked dinner."

"Harry," said Wendell, cleaning his plate. "I know they liked it. I can tell you for myself it was one of the finest meals I've ever had the pleasure of eating."

Harry blushed, looked away and quietly said, "Thank you. I'm glad you liked it."

"Where did you learn to cook like that?" asked Standish.

"I had to... I cooked for my relatives all the time while at the Dursleys," he replied. "It was the one chore I enjoyed doing."

Wendell heard the aborted response and it twinged his child abuse sensors. Looking more directly at the boy he asked, "You must have spent quite some time doing it to get that good. How long have you been cooking for?"

Harry shrugged a little too nonchalantly, Wendell thought, before the boy replied, "For almost as long as I can remember. Petunia taught me the basics, gave me a stack of cookbooks and, once she could trust me not to set the house on fire, told me to get on with it."

After finishing his plate and noticing Dobby had already banished everything else to the kitchen, he said, "I'd better go and make sure Dobby has eaten and isn't working too hard in the kitchen."

Dabbing his own lips with a napkin, he softly said, "Excuse me," rose and left for the kitchen.

Just as the aurors were about to rise as Harry walked out, Wendell gestured with his hand for them to stay sitting. They did.

When he knew Harry was far enough out of earshot, he turned to them and asked, "These Dursley relatives of his. Tell me something has been or is being done about them. I'm trained in looking for cases of child abuse and it's not hard to tell that boy has been abused."

"They faced trial a couple of days ago," replied Standish. "What they did to him I won't repeat. However, the only reason they weren't sent to prison on the spot amounts to a number of reasons. First; Albus Dumbledore dumped Lord Potter on them as an infant and didn't give them any opportunity to refuse. Second; the magics Dumbledore set up on the property to protect Lord Potter rendered Petunia Dursley sterile. Third; it appears he cast extra magics on them so they couldn't return Lord Potter back to magical world. And, each time they found a way to get him out of the house, Dumbledore would turn up and put the child back. Fourth; he pointed out to the members how, since they breached the law in allowing Dumbledore to even take him, the members themselves were partly responsible for what befell him under their so-called dubious care. And, fifth; Lord Potter begged the Wizengamot to allow them to go home, put a stop to Dumbledore's actions and put up protections from wizards and witches, including him, on their property so Dumbledore cannot put him back there, or even go himself. He also reminded the Members of the Wizengamot that the Dursleys are the last blood family he has left.

"Actually, that last was really the only reason. As Lord Potter said, politics plays a major role in the judicial process. Because it was he who practically demanded it, they accepted it. Everyone now feels they owe him a great deal so, since he didn't want them gaoled, they weren't.

"He also said that, now he's of-age, he cannot be forced back into their... care... ever again. He reminded them that, because magic had taken any chance Petunia Dursley could have another child, that was a pretty significant punishment. And, as he was the only one they hurt, his request held a lot of sway with the Members, who were all feeling quite guilty. They agreed with his demand and 'sentenced' them to that."

Scowling a little, Wendell said, "It shouldn't have mattered. It was child abuse; they should have been gaoled."

The auror could not disagree and, instead, chose to remain silent.

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When Harry entered the kitchen it was to find it spotless. "Dobby!" he called.

The little elf immediately popped in and asked, "Yes, Master Harry?"

"Did you do all the dishes, Dobby?"

"Of course, Master Harry," replied the elf.

Harry sighed and said, "You didn't have to do that, Dobs. I came in to the kitchen to do them, myself."

Dobby again crossed his arms and looked sternly back. "Master Harry Potter, Sir, already tooks Dobby's cooking work. Master Harry Potter, Sir, not be taking Dobby's dishes work, too!"

Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Fiiiiiiine. I didn't like doing the dishes, anyway."

Looking around he said, "Well, it looks like everything's done. I think I'll just start on the tea."

"Dobby already be makings the tea," replied the elf. "Dobby tooks tea up for Master Harry Potter, Sir's, Miss Grangy and Master Harry Potter, Sir's, Miss Grangy's Doctor-Mum. Dobby abouts to take tea for Master Harry Potter, Sir's, Miss Grangy's Doctor-Dad and Master Harry Potter, Sir's, auror bodyguards."

Harry screwed his eyes together and had to massage his brow while thinking that lot out. "You know," he said. "Calling them all that is going to get very confusing, very fast."

Thinking a bit he said, "Alright, Dobby; new orders. The names you're giving everyone is simply too confusing for me. For the time being you will address Hermione Granger as Miss Granger, you will address Hermione's dad as Mister Granger, you will address Hermione's mum as Missus Granger and you will address the aurors as simply 'Auror'. If you know their surname you may append that to the title 'Auror'. Got all that?"

"Yes, Master Harry, Sir," replied Dobby.

"Now, tea for myself," he sighed.

"Master Harry Potter, Sir's, tea will be on the dinings table when Master Harry Potter, Sirs, gets back there."

Flinging his hands up in exasperation Harry walked out and back to the dining room. When he got back it was to find the two aurors gone, but Wendell still sitting at the end of the table. There was a fresh cup of tea before him and another before where Harry sat. Between them was a small pitcher of milk and a sugar bowl.

Harry returned to his seat, sat down and made himself a cup of tea just as he liked it - a dash of milk and two sugars.

"That was quick," said Wendell.

"That sawn-off little munchkin of a house elf of mine beat me to it," he grumbled. "Then he up and told me off for 'trying to take his work' off him."

Wendell looked at him in amusement for a few minutes and asked, "You like to do the dishes?"

"No," he grumbled back. "But, I got them dirty, I should clean them up."

"No, Harry," disagreed Wendell. "In this house we share the chores. For a start, if you cook, you never do the dishes. On top of that, while it was very nice of you to cook dinner, you're a guest here. You don't have chores.

"Now, if you truly enjoy cooking, then I'll talk to Monica about it and, if she agrees, you can continue to occasionally do so. However, it's not something you need to worry about. Alright?"

Harry nodded back and said, "Yes, Sir... Wendell."

"Good. I'm glad we got that out of the way. Next point; we're very happy to have you here as a guest. You have done so much for this family just by being a good friend to our daughter. You may not know this, but Hermione didn't have any good friends before she met you."

When Harry looked confused by that, he added, "It's true. Anyone her age she tried to make friends with only ever thought of her as someone to do their homework for them, someone who made them feel stupid because she comes across as too smart, or thought her too bossy.

"Before we met you we thought you might have fallen into one of those categories. That red haired friend of yours certainly does. However, it's clear you do not."

"Ron Weasley is certainly no longer a friend of mine," Harry frowned. "He never was. He used to report on what I was doing to Dumbledore. I even think Dumbledore paid him to do it."

"I don't think he was a friend, either," agreed Wendell. "But learning he was effectively a spy against you? That's a little sickening."

Harry nodded.

"What Hermione is having a little trouble with at the moment, is that the 'Harry' she thought I was, was only a... façade... I surrounded myself with to protect myself and my secrets from Dumbledore. She's now 'met' the real Harry and is having some problems putting the fake Harry and the real Harry into context. I also had to come down a little hard on her to get her to start rethinking who I am."

Wendell frowned and asked, "What do you mean?"

"The Harry she thought she knew was not much of an 'achiever'. That is, it didn't look as if I applied myself as well as I should. In that, I'm sorry to say, I deceived your daughter into thinking I was not as smart as I am. I would deliberately write my assignments to be... adequate. Hermione would demand to review my assignments, which I would let her do, and she would make some changes to improve them, which I would mostly incorporate. It did not harm my persona to allow her. However, real Harry is pretty much on a par with her when it comes to cleverness and smarts.

"I hated that Hermione thought she had to help so I would consider her worthy to be a friend. I've even told her numerous times she didn't have to, but she'd insist and I was feeling deeply guilty for hiding the truth from her. She never had to do that, but 'fake' Harry needed to hide until he could strike back - that was at the First Task.

"However, irrespective of the difference between fake Harry and real Harry, my feelings for Hermione are no different. She does not know it, but her friendship has been my 'emotional rock' that has kept me both anchored and centred. I would not have made it to the First Task to bring everything to light if it hadn't been for her. I probably would have lost my 'nana somewhere around the middle of second year.

"I owe that girl so much - for being my friend, for being my rock, for just being there - I could spend the rest of my life and my entire fortune towards her happiness and still not repay her for both what I said before and for the fact I deliberately tricked her. That's why coming down hard on her over the past week has been so hard."

Wendell sighed and asked, "Why couldn't you have told her before now? She'd have kept your secret."

"Because Severus Snape is an expert at the magical art of Legilimency," he explained. "It is a skill that allows him to see into a person's head and see their memories and read their surface thoughts. If he'd seen what she knew about me, or read her surface thoughts about me, he'd have immediately taken that information to Dumbledore."

"If that happened, Dumbledore would have wiped her memories of it and then tried to use other methods to take my memories. If he couldn't, he'd have used potions to enforce my loyalty to him. And may have even used those same potions on her. Those are the sort of potions he used on Poppy Pomfrey. I couldn't let that happen to her."

"You did it to protect her," nodded Wendell.

"And myself," added Harry.

"What about if this Snipe character had used Legilimency on you?"

"It's another mind magic," he replied. "I seem to be significantly immune to that, as well. I don't know how, but suspect to the point of belief it has something to do with my mother's blood protection she placed on me; because any book that was any good in the school library on the subject of either Occlumency, the magical art that protects the mind, or Legilimency has been removed to the Restricted section. No guesses for who ordered that. Eventually, I had to go and buy my own from a shop in Diagon Alley.

"However, I still couldn't do it. I think it's that same protection from mind magics that's stopping me learning Occlumency, which is of course another mind magic."

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―==(oIo)==―

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Harry and Wendell had 'retired to the parlour' when Monica came back down leading Hermione.

Harry took one look at the girl and was on his feet, looking at her with a scowl on his face. Looking directly at her, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, shaking her head. "Mum and I just needed to talk."

"You've been crying," he firmly said.

"I've not been crying because I've been hurt, Harry," she carefully said. "I've been crying because I'm happy."

Harry stared back for a few moments, trying to figure that one out, before he gave a single nod and said, "Well; alright, then." And sat again, still keeping an eye on Hermione.

Turning back to Wendell he said, "Now, I've also promised my godfather, Sirius Black, that I would ask you if he could come visit me while I'm here. One of those trials that I - and Hermione too, I suppose - mentioned that occurred over the past week was his. Madam Bones pulled a 'shoofty' and snuck his trial in between the ones publicly announced. He's finally been found innocent of the crimes for which he was dumped in Azkaban prison, without a trial, in the first place. And he can now move on with his life."

"He's truly innocent?" asked Wendell.

"Innocent? Heavens no!" Harry chuckled, beginning to relax again. "But he's definitely not guilty of any of the crimes they pegged him with. No, Sirius likes to portray this image he's a 'bad boy'; but he's not committed a crime beyond something like failing to register something."

Both Granger adults looked at one another for a moment.

"He can visit," said Monica. "I take it he just wants to catch up?"

"That and he also wants me to visit his Healer; who also happens to be his cousin and, to some degree, mine," replied Harry.

"Why does he want you to visit a Healer, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Because he knew my parents and my size, compared to theirs, concerns him," replied Harry. "He's right to worry. The Durs... I didn't eat well while I was with my relatives."

"Harry, you have nothing to worry about telling my parents or I how they treated you," she said. "They didn't feed you well, did they?"

"Not really, no," he replied.

"Madam Pomfrey should have... Oh," she said suddenly understanding. "That's one of the reasons why Dumbledore had her on loyalty potions, isn't it?"

"And one of the reasons she came all too close to breaching her medi-witch oath," he added. "Yes; that was my logical conclusion, as well."

"Have your godfather bring her here, if he can," said Wendell. "If either had any ill-intent towards you, those wards you had erected would stun them, wouldn't they?"

"Yes, they would," he nodded.

"Then, have them come here," said Wendell.

"More and more I actually like the idea of these wards," said Monica. "Thank you for having them erected."

"You're welcome," smiled Harry.

"Harry," said Hermione, bringing his attention to her. "How much did these wards cost? They had to be expensive."

"As I said to your father, I really don't know," he replied. "But, it doesn't matter to me, anyway. I've got far more money than I could spend in ten lifetimes.

"I've got so much it actually makes me a little uncomfortable. And, if I can put a little of it to what I consider important, then how much it costs me is irrelevant."

"You're avoiding the question," she declared.

"Yes; I am," he shot back.

"Hermione, that's enough," Wendell firmly stepped in. "It's not your concern."

Hermione stubbornly stared at her father for a long moment before she sagged in defeat. "Sorry," she said.

"As I told you at Hogwarts, Hermione," said Harry. "There are things I need to do, simply as the Lord of a Noble and Most Ancient House as one such example, you cannot be privy to. My business dealings, unless it relates directly with you, is one of them.

"I don't mind you asking the odd innocent question, because I know your 'curiosity to learn something new' strongly drives you; but, when you know I'm deliberately avoiding answering a question, you need to accept that and let it go."

"Sorry, Harry," she said again.

And Harry could see she meant it. "You're forgiven," he smiled.

As things settled down again, Harry pulled out his communication mirror to call Sirius.

"Padfoot," he whispered across the glass.

A long moment later and his own reflection was replaced by his godfather's visage. And Hermione moved to sit beside him.

"Hiya, Pup!" said Sirius. "How goes things at the Grangers?"

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

After speaking with his godfather and letting him know he and Hermione had safely arrived he passed on the Granger's permission for him to visit.

"Good," said Sirius, "Let them know I very much appreciate it."

Harry looked to the Grangers to see both Wendell and Monica nod back.

Looking back down at the mirror he said, "They heard."

"Let them know I'll be over first thing in the morning," said Sirius. "You and I have quite a few things to talk about. I also promised you I'd let you know why I was late to the trial, this morning. That's part of it."

"Got a time in mind?" asked Harry.

"Eight thirty suit you?"

"Eight thirty would be fine," he replied. "Was Cousin Andi very upset with you for being out so long?"

"No," he replied. "As I said, she could see me from the Black Seat and I indicated to her I was heading back to her place right then.

"It was also her who let me know Dumbledore escaped a prison sentence when she got back. She was right ropable about that."

"How did that happen?" asked Hermione, leaning in.

"Dumbledore's welded-on supporters in the Wizengamot managed to get to a few others, of course. It was enough for him to escape the prison sentence but not enough for him to escape losing his positions as Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock. There was quite a bit of back-room dealing going on there."

"That's what I figured would happen and happened," nodded Harry.

"Anyway, we can talk more about that tomorrow morning," said Sirius. "I've got parchmentwork I need to get through dealing with the House of Black finances I promised the goblins I'd get back to them as soon as possible; and then Cousin Andi's going to dose me to the gills on restorative and healing potions that're going to knock me out for the night."

"Then you'd best get onto that," smiled Harry. "I don't envy you."

"No need," laughed the old dog. "She's still quite determined to get your health up to scratch, too. Mirror off!"

And the mirror faded back to a normal reflection.

"So, wizards and witches do have a way to contact others without using owls," said Wendell.

"These are one of a kind," said Harry, waving the mirror a bit. "Actually, that should probably be two of a kind - the one I have and the one my godfather has. They're something my father, godfather and two friends created while they were at school, so they could stay in contact with one another while one of them was in detention. That happened a lot."

"If your godfather could remember how they did it he should market them," said Hermione. "He'd make a fortune."

"He already has one," Harry grinned. "But, yes; I can see what you mean. I'll suggest it to him. It might be just what he needs to firmly re-establish his relationship with Moony. And Moony doesn't have a fortune, so it would be a way to help him without Moony getting on his high-horse about charity."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

When Hedwig hadn't turned up that night Harry was getting a little worried about her.

That worry was relieved the next morning when, just as they were sitting for a breakfast cooked by Harry, she came swooping in with his morning's copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry was quick to relieve her of her load and offer her two slices of trimmed bacon; grilled, rather than fried.

"Prek," she softly barked.

Harry just nodded to her as she plucked them from his fingers and flew back out.

"That sounded like she was trying to talk to you, Harry," said Monica.

"Probably," he shrugged. "I don't understand Snowy Owl, so she can be saying anything from 'Thank you' to 'It's about bloody time, you ignorant human!'. How would I know?"

That had all three Grangers bursting into laughter. Somewhere in there Hermione still managed to fit in a, "Language, Harry."

He was also surprised to see a second owl also come swooping in. This one went to Wendell. It, too, was carrying the latest morning copy of the Daily Prophet.

Seeing Harry's surprise, Hermione smiled at him and said, "Daddy subscribed. He likes to know what's going on in the world his daughter is now a part of."

"He knows a lot of what's written within is rubbish, right?" he asked.

"I do," replied Wendell, still chuckling but now unfolding his own copy to read it. "I've had the skill of being able to read between the lines for many years."

Of course, the lead story was on Dumbledore's trial. Harry read through it and was pleased to see his 'letter' was quoted in a few places. But, even better, it was quoted accurately and not even out of context.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Right on time, Sirius was 'Dobby express' apparated to the path immediately just inside the gates of the property.

Dobby immediately popped away leaving Sirius to walk to the front porch on his own.

The two aurors moving fast to the front door alerted the others to guests.

Seeing one of them almost run to the door, Monica asked, "Guests?"

"That'll be Sirius," replied Hermione, checking the time on her watch.

Harry walked into the parlour, waiting for him to come in, with a grin on his face.

When he saw his godfather about to speak, once he was close enough to speak without raising his voice, Harry got in first. "You forgot you didn't know the co-ordinates, didn't you?"

Sirius gave a pained look and said, "You could have told me."

"Actually, no, I couldn't," he replied. "I'm not skilled in Apparation, so I only know what co-ordinates are supposed to be, not what they are.

"However, I will admit that I could have asked one of the aurors on shift... but, where's the prank in that? Think of it as a lesson to remember to find out, in future."

Sirius pouted for a moment before his face broke out in a grin and he chuckled.

Walking forward the rest of the way he grabbed Harry in a hug. "Alright," he said. "I deserved that." Holding Harry back out at arms length he asked, "How about inviting me in and introducing me to everyone?"

Leading the way back into the dinette with Sirius in tow, he walked into where everyone, bar the aurors, were waiting. Monica and Wendell had rearranged things at their surgery to have the day off. It was a Friday.

Looking to the Grangers, Harry gestured to Sirius and said, "Everyone, this is Lord Sirius Orion Black Number Three, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, a.k.a 'Padfoot', a.k.a my godfather, a.k.a. 'Hey You', a.k.a. 'The Mutt', and names it's impolite to use in present company." Looking to Sirius he said, "Sirius, you know Hermione. And these are her parents, Doctors Wendell and Monica Granger."

Sirius gave Harry a light clip to the back of the head, meant more in warning than anything else, and walked forward holding his hand out to Wendell. "A pleasure to meet you, Sir. Call me Sirius. You have a lovely daughter and I cannot fathom what possessed you to allow my smart-alek reprobate of a godson into your home."

Grinning back, Wendell accepted the offered hand and shook it. "My daughter begged me to and he's actually proven to be quite the polite young man. And call me Wendell."

Sirius widened the grin and completed the handshake before offering his hand to Monica. Expecting a handshake, she was surprised when he accepted her hand by the fingers, brought her knuckles to his lips as he bowed forward, and very lightly brushed his lips on them before gently releasing them again. "A great pleasure to meet you, too, Ma'am. Please, call me Sirius, handsome, darling, whatever."

Hermione rolled her eyes where Sirius couldn't see her, but both Wendell and Monica could.

Also grinning, Monica said, "It's nice to meet you, too, Sirius. I'm Monica. And welcome to our home."

Stepping back, Sirius said, "Seriously, though; thank you for allowing Harry to stay here. I'm much more comfortable with him out of Hogwarts, at the moment. I don't trust Dumbledore one whit of a moment of time not to try something I'd definitely disagree with.

"Which reminds me," said Sirius spinning to look at Harry. "You and me need to talk."

"Yeah, you owe me an explanation as to why you were late, yesterday," nodded Harry.

"That forms part of it, yes," his godfather agreed. "But, there's a lot more than that I need to tell you about."

Harry noticed that his godfather was being quite, well, serious. It was not something he knew to be the man's normal default behaviour.

"Well, if you don't have anywhere to hurry off to, it can wait a bit," he replied.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

After a shared cup of tea with the Grangers and Sirius getting to know one another, Sirius asked for somewhere private to talk to his godson. Wendell directed them to his office on the same floor and left them to it.

Hermione looked like she wanted to join them but Sirius told her, "I'm sorry, Hermione; but, for this bit, I need to speak with Harry alone. When we're done with that we'll come out and rejoin you."

Hermione gave a sad nod to which Harry gently smiled back.

"Don't forget; we need to take you shopping, this morning," she reminded him.

"I remember," he replied with a smile, before following Wendell and Sirius from the room.

In the office and sitting across the desk from one another, Sirius immediately got down to business. "Firstly, what has Dumbledore told you about why you and your parents were attacked back when you were a baby?" he asked.

"Nothing," Harry immediately replied. "Except that my parents were fighting against Riddle, but had to go into hiding as he'd targeted them."

"Did he say why?"

"No," he replied. "And no matter how hard I pushed to learn more he wouldn't tell me."

Sirius sighed and said, "Well, then; I will."

Harry sat up straighter so he could better learn what he was about to be told.

"Back a few months before you were born, a prophecy was given. I don't know the details of it because it's stored inside what's known as a prophecy orb in a section of the Department of Mysteries in the basement of the Ministry of Magic.

"The only people who can touch the orb - and, therefore, hear what's in it - are the people who it involves. One is you, and the other is 'the Dark Lord'. Dumbledore knows what's in it because, according to the little card that identifies the orb, the prophecy was spoken to him by the person who gave the prophecy."

"If that's the case," said Harry. "Then anyone can know of what the prophecy said just by Dumbledore telling them."

"Yes," nodded Sirius. "But, can you see him doing that? Especially after you just told me you've already asked him why Riddle is after you and he refuses to answer?"

"No," Harry frowned. "So, how do I get to hear it?"

"You need to go down to the Department of Mysteries and ask," Sirius immediately replied. "I need to organise with you and them a time when you can do that."

Harry thought about that for a few moments before he said, "When we can, I think."

"I agree," said his godfather. "But, it's already been fifteen years. There's no need to go running there right now. It can wait a couple of days, or even weeks, at least."

Harry gave a grunt and nodded back. "Yeah. It's not as if it changes anything, does it?"

Once he saw that Harry would agree, Sirius told him what he actually wanted to tell him about.

"This has to do with why Riddle is still managing to be on this plane of existence; why he hasn't passed on to his... Next Great Adventure," explained Sirius.

The way Sirius emphasised it, Harry even heard the capitals.

He gave another nod and Sirius began to tell him a tale of his morning the previous day.

He spoke about how he met, as previously arranged, a team of Unspeakables who needed to get into the Black Townhouse, which was a property of the Blacks on Grimmauld Place in South London.

"It's actually the place where I grew up and ran away from, when I was sixteen," he said. "I ran to the home of your grandparents, Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, and your father's when he was a child. They welcomed me into their home with open arms, as they said they would if I needed a place to escape to. But, that's a story for a different time. This is about the Black Townhouse.

"You see, from basically a year or two after I... left, my mother was in the house on her own except for a house elf named Kreacher. When my mother died quite a few years ago, the house elf decided to serve her portrait she had painted in her place. However, as you know, a house elf slowly begins to die if they're not properly bonded. And Kreacher bonded himself to the portrait. The only magic sustaining him was the wards on the property, which was nowhere near enough.

"So, Kreacher used as little magic as possible to draw out his service to my mother's portrait. As a result, the townhouse has fallen into bad disrepair. In a nutshell, it's now a dump. But, it's still protected because the wards on it are still strong.

"As I'm the Lord Black the Unspeakables needed me to get into the property. They could have got in by brute-forcing their way in but, as the property is in a high density muggle residential area, they'd have had to breach the Statute of Secrecy while doing so. And even the Unspeakables are leery about doing that.

"Once I was declared innocent they knew that I, as Lord Black, could simply let them in."

"Why'd they need to get in?" asked Harry.

"They believed there was an artefact in there that forms one of the reasons how Riddle is still about and causing mischief," replied Sirius. "They were right. And they found it."

"They intend to destroy it though, right?" asked Harry, a little worried.

"Yes, Pup," his godfather was quick to assure him. "I believe they would have done it by now, too."

"Does that mean that Riddle's gone now, too?"

"No. Riddle created, at least, more than one of these things," replied Sirius. "They found another in the school when they went there a couple days ago."

"Oh, I remember that," said Harry. "That is, I remember them visiting. They removed a curse from the DADA position and banished Binns."

Sirius gave a single nod and said, "They also found another one of these artefacts in a small town in northern England up near the border with Scotland, another inside a vault in Gringotts and they believe that diary you had to deal with at the end of your second year at Hogwarts was yet another."

"Merlin!" groaned Harry. "How many of these bloody things are there?"

"No idea," replied Sirius. "That's something they wouldn't tell me. All they told me was 'a few'.

"An answer that's about as useless as tits on a bull," grimaced Harry.

Sirius gave a short snort of amusement at the analogy, as he'd never heard it before. "Quite. But, I told them I was going to tell you what I've now told you. They weren't bothered by it because, since you'd already come across one and destroyed it... that diary... they want you to let them know if you come across any more. And definitely don't tell Dumbledore about it."

"Oh, that's never going to happen," Harry firmly stated. "The 'telling Dumbledore' bit, I mean; not the telling the Unspeakables."

"I knew what you meant, Pup," Sirius lightly smiled.

Harry thought about that for a few moments before he asked, "Does them not being upset about you telling me this have to do with that prophecy?"

"That's my guess," nodded his godfather. "Nice deduction."

"Then I also guess we'll probably learn the answer to why when we hear that prophecy," nodded Harry.

Neither of them yet knew there was now a mild charm on them both not to go in and listen to that prophecy, just yet. The Unspeakables placed the one on Harry that day they attended the school; and the one on Sirius was placed just the previous day. Another was placed on Dobby not to remove either.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

After recovering from his 'ordeal' the previous early evening, Dumbledore rose that morning with a determined plan. He was going to go visit his loyal deputy - or the witch who was supposed to be his loyal deputy - and convince her to work with him to convince those who needed convincing to overturn the ruling of the Chief Adjudicator at her trial.

As he knew the woman to be an early riser he needed to get down to breakfast early so he could be on his way as soon as possible. So he was up and ready for the day, walking through his office and down the stairs, timed to be in the Great Hall the moment the breakfast was scheduled to begin.

He could have eaten his breakfast in his rooms, as he did his previous evening's dinner, but knew he also had to put in an appearance in the Great Hall to show the staff and students he was back and in charge.

At that time of the morning, only the early risers were present. But it would be enough for the word to quickly get about.

Striding into the room from the Professor's entrance behind the staff table with his head high, he quickly made his way to his wooden 'throne' and, immediately after taking his seat, quickly looked about.

At that time there were only about a quarter of the Ravenclaws who were usually awake and down by this time; a handful of Slytherins; a few Hufflepuffs; unsurprisingly, no Gryffindors; and only two Professors, Sprout and Babbling. Sprout was always an early riser, who liked to get an early start in her greenhouses, and Babbling, the Ancient Runes Professor, stated her mind was sharper in the morning if she made an earlier start to her day.

"Good morning," he almost cheerily nodded to the two professors, determined not to let what happened the previous evening dampen his mood or become more widely known. His greeting was met only with blank, semi-hostile stares from both before he turned his attention to building himself a decent Hogwarts breakfast. It was far better fare than he had 'enjoyed' for the past week and a bit.

'Once I get things back to rights, they'll come around,' he thought, ignoring the looks he received from them. 'If not, I can always fire them.'

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ