Chapter Twenty Four - Harry Discovers He's a Daft Moron

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!

Chapter Twenty Four - Harry Discovers He's a Daft Moron

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

The next morning's Daily Prophet carried as its lead story, 'Lord Potter Thumbs Nose at Traditions'. And went on to say how an 'unidentified informant' inside Hogwarts reported that the new Lord Potter stated he would not be attending the traditional Yule Ball held for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. A tradition that dated back over five hundred years.

After reading it, he passed it on to Hermione to read and said, "So, Dumbledore's made his next play."

"Besides the obvious, what makes you think it's Dumbledore?" asked Wendell.

"I haven't sent my letter to Headmistress Lady Marchbanks, yet; where I'll be telling her I'm not attending," he replied. "Therefore, the only one besides us and Sirius who know, is him. And he's the only one at Hogwarts."

Wendell asked, "What about the aurors?"

"They wouldn't tell," said Hermione. "They know that, if they let slip something like that, Harry'll get you to throw them out.

"Which means, they'll be stuck to guarding him outside... in the cold... in the wet and snow... outside the property boundary."

She shook her head and added, "No, they won't risk that happening. The comfort they get for being indoors is too good a perk to pass up."

"Dobby," Harry suddenly called.

When the little elf popped in he asked, "Yes, Master Harry?"

"Can you get me my communication mirror, please?"

"Right away, Master Harry." And he was gone again.

A moment later the mirror appeared on the table in front of him.

"Thank you, Dobby," he called into the air.

Picking it up he was about to call his godfather when he realised what the time was. "Ummm..." he uttered. "I think I should wait for a bit. Sirius is a late riser and there's not much he can do, at the moment, anyway."

Then changed his mind. "No. I should tell him before Ted leaves for work for the day. He'll want Ted to get onto this, right away.

"Padfoot."

When the mirror cleared Sirius was already up. "I've read it," he immediately said, before Harry even had a chance to let him know.

"Ted woke me and we've been discussing it."

"The plan?" he asked.

"Ted's going straight from here to his office to look up the relevant wizarding law statutes, then heading over to the Prophet offices to, as he puts it, 'ream 'em all a new one'," replied Sirius. "He'll be there within the hour."

That made Harry feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Thank you, Sirius," he said. "And thank Ted for me, too. He has my blessing to act as Law-wizard of Record for the House of Potter. If he wants to he can tell them Lord Potter will forgive them if Cuffe and Skeeter are either both publicly sacked with the reason printed in tomorrow's paper, or a full and unequivocal retraction that does the same."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter and said, "He heard. He seems to be relishing the legal 'bloody nose' he's about to give them."

After a quick look off to the side, Sirius barked with laughter again and said, "Yeah, he is."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Not having to worry about the remarks in the Daily Prophet this time around, Harry relegated it to the back of his mind. He knew he'd get updated reports on what was being done either directly from Ted or from Sirius.

That left him able to concentrate his thoughts on filling his stomach. The potions seemed to be making his hunger worse. However, he realised it was because his stomach was growing, whether normally or magically, to allow him to take more food in.

As he shovelled more food into his mouth he thought, 'Is this what Ron is always going through? No wonder no one can get his attention while he's eating.'

"How long do those potions have to run, Harry?" asked Monica, watching him.

"No idea," he replied, when next his mouth was empty. "But I hope the hunger ones end soon. This is embarrassing, having to eat this much."

"Well, you're definitely filling out," she said. "You're also growing upwards. Any idea how much taller you are now?"

"No," he replied between mouthfuls. "But, I know my father was about five foot eleven and my mum was about five foot ten. I think I was about five foot... four?... when I arrived here."

Hermione gave herself a nod and said, "Stand up, Harry" And rose to her feet, herself.

When Harry immediately followed suit, breakfast be-damned, she stood close and looked him in the eye.

With a frown she said, "Yeah, you'd have been about five four to five five. I remember I slightly looked down to look you in the eyes. Now I have to look slightly up. Soooo, I'd guess you'd now be about... five... eight?"

"Three plus inches already?" he asked. "You sure?"

"Edge of the door, dear," her mother said to her.

With a look of surprise, Hermione said, "Of course!" Then she grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him over to the door leading from the dinette to the back hallway.

Pulling it shut a little she maneuvered him until he stood with his back to the edge of the door. "Stand up straight," she ordered.

Harry did as he was told, placing the back of his head against the edge of the door as he did.

Hermione took careful note of where he would come to on the frame and said, "Alright, Harry. You can step away now."

As he did and turned around to look, he could see the edge of the door had inch-separated marks on it. Hermione was holding her finger at a point about a third of the way up between five foot eight and five foot nine.

"Wow," he said. "That's well over three inches in... how long?"

"A little over five days," said Hermione. "Sunday morning would make it a week."

Monica said, "At that estimation of your original height at that time, I'd estimate you'd probably be at about five inches in a week. You're growing like a weed!

"No wonder you're eating so much, the calories needed for the body to do that sort of growth must be above the mid thousands. I think you need to consider increasing your intake of soluble fats and unprocessed sugar."

"I'm already eating five meals a day and often coming back downstairs in the early evening to make myself a snack!" he almost whined.

"Andromeda said if you're hungry, you're to eat," she firmly retorted. "So, do so!"

Harry sighed and softly said, "Yes, Ma'a... err... Monica."

"Now, come back and finish your breakfast," she said. "And, if you're still hungry, eat some more.

"And don't think I haven't noticed you've restocked the pantry, fridge and freezer again," she scowled. "You don't need to do that."

"On that subject I must respectfully disagree," he firmly said back, sitting down at the table again.

"Harry―" she tried.

"No, Monica," he just as firmly replied. "This is my contribution to the efforts you and Wendell have gone to, to let me and my unwanted auror followers into your home. Please don't fight me on this."

Her and Wendell exchanged some micro-expressions between them and she turned back to Harry. "Fine. But I didn't expect you to do any of that when we invited you."

"It's my contribution and, since you weren't expecting it, gift," he replied, more relaxed.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

In Hogwarts, Dumbledore was sitting at the staff table gleefully reading through the article on the front page of the Prophet. Of course, that glee was masked behind a look of concern he was projecting for others to see.

His problem was there was one person at the head table, that morning, who knew that expression was a lie. And, after reading the article herself, wasn't happy.

Leaning to look around Babbling and Sinistra, who were now sitting in their respective Heads of House seats, she used her wand to hit Dumbledore in the side with a very mild localised banishing charm. In effect it was a rude 'poke', used when you wanted someone's attention and weren't being polite about it. She had gotten very good at it when she was still a professor, herself, and a student wasn't paying the attention to her they should have at the time.

When he flicked his head around to stare at her in surprise, quickly morphing into a frown, she crooked a finger at him in the recognisable sign of 'Come here'; which was also considered impolite.

Rising and frowning even more at her behaviour, he approached her behind the chairs. "Really, Griselda," he scolded.

Looking back she simply said, "As soon as you have finished your breakfast, you are to go to my office and wait for me there. And it's Headmistress Marchbanks to you... Al-bie!"

Shocked, Dumbledore was, for a moment, speechless. Finally, he said, "As you wish." Before turning his back on her and returning to his breakfast."

'Albie?' he thought. 'She's never... Potter!'

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

A little over an hour later, Ted was striding up Diagon Alley on his way to the offices of the Daily Prophet organisation. Not even hesitating he walked in and straight up to the reception desk.

"Good morning," he said to the young witch behind the counter-desk. "Please inform Mister Cuffe that Edward Tonks, Law-wizard, is here to see him."

"Mister Cuffe is a busy man. You'll need to make an appointment," she said, as if by rote.

She hadn't even looked at him.

"Inform Mister Cuffe he talks to me, or I go see the Board of Directors and talk to them, instead," he shot back. "They, at least, will not refuse to speak with me."

She finally looked directly at him for the first time, hesitated a moment and said, "Please wait here." Without waiting for Ted to say anything back, she rose from her chair and walked out through a door in the back wall behind her desk.

Five minutes later, she was back. "Please follow me," she said in an almost bored drawl.

Walking behind her through the door, she led him through and almost directly up a flight of stairs. She then turned and walked through a set of cubicles that were obviously for reporters, as some were there. He even recognised some of them.

Finally, she came to an office at the front of the building that obviously overlooked the Alley, knocked thrice and stepped through.

When it appeared she was going to close the door behind herself, he neatly stepped through behind her and to the side.

He was in Cuffe's expansive office. The man was sitting behind his desk trying to look important.

As soon as Tonks saw him he turned to the young witch and said, "Thank you, you can leave." And just stared at her.

The witch stared back for a moment before turning to Cuffe. Though he didn't see it, he knew Cuffe had silently dismissed her, too, as she turned back to him, scowled and walk out. She quietly closed the door behind her.

Turning back to Cuffe, he then noticed Skeeter was also in the room sitting in a chair off to the side. Her Quik-quotes quill primed and ready to go.

He stared at her for half a moment with an Occlumency-flattened expression and quietly snapped, "Get out."

Skeeter looked to Cuffe, who then said, "Now, Ted... I can call you Ted, can't I? Miss Skeeter is―"

After first noticing him as stepped into the office, Ted hadn't turned his attention to Cuffe at all. He continued to stare at Skeeter. Calmly, he drew his wand and held it pointing out and away from his body. It was that movement that suddenly shut Cuffe up.

Still staring at Skeeter, Ted said, "I said... get out."

That was enough for Skeeter. She snatched her lime green quill out of the air and bolted for and out the door. Without the Quik-quotes quill magic holding it in place, the parchment the quill was poised over fluttered to the floor.

Now turning his eyes to Cuffe, Ted reached across and shut the door closed Skeeter had left open in her haste to leave.

He then stood staring at Cuffe for a good ten seconds, waiting for the man to appear to be on the verge of speaking.

As soon as he saw the man draw a breath and begin to open his mouth, he quietly said, "You're an idiot."

"W-what?" spluttered Cuffe.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" he asked. "I said, you're an idiot."

"Now, see here!" spluttered the portly editor.

"You, you idiot, have upset not one, but two Lords of Noble and Most Ancient Houses," said Ted, still using that flattened and soft voice. "You have upset two of the Seven. One of them is also close friends with two of the rest of the Seven. Four of seven makes a majority."

He then remained silent until it looked like Cuffe was going to speak again and again jumped in first. "I've been doing some checking, Barny. Those four, between them, own more than fifty percent of this organisation."

Pulling a set of documents out of an inside robe pocket, Ted looked down at them for a moment and said, "Yes. More than fifty percent."

Cuffe was now pale and shaky.

"I also have here the written authorisation to decide what to do with you," he quietly said. "What do you think I should do with you... Barny?"

Cuffe spluttered and seemed to come up with an idea. "I-I-I... claim freedom of the press!" It was a bad one.

"How lovely," Ted sneered. "I counter it with freedom of the shareholders. That is, the freedom of the shareholders to fire your arse. Got anything else?"

"The information I received was rock solid!" he tried. "I have a responsibility to the people of wizarding Britain to report―"

That Ted immediately barked a short, sneering, mocking laughter shut the man up again.

"You have a responsibility to the people of wizarding Britain?" he sneered. "Puh-lease... you know damned well I know that's a cauldron full of shit. Your responsibility is to the shareholders; no one else. You know I know that.

"As for your first point, your rock solid information? Your own... sorry... my client's own newspaper, which you're the editor for... for the moment... reported in-depth the crap, lies and manipulations Dumbledore was doing. How you could sit there and tell me you're information is 'rock solid', as you put it, when you know the man is a lying, manipulative old toss-pot, is beyond me."

When Cuffe appeared he didn't know what to say next, Ted sneered, "Well?"

Cuffe was frantically trying to come up with something that would get him out of what was now clearly a mess and couldn't think of anything.

When he saw Cuffe sigh and deflate, Ted knew he had him.

Cuffe quietly said, "What do I need to do?"

Ted smirked and said, "Pull out a quill and parchment and takes notes of what I'm about to tell you. Those notes will then form the basis of how you're going to handle this to the satisfaction of your shareholders.

"If you do not do exactly what I'm about to tell you to do, I'm going to go through every back copy of the Prophet until I find at least one hundred people who would have the legal right to sue you and your journalists for slander and libel. I'm sure it will not take me long to find one hundred witches and wizards who could not afford to go after you and would now relish the opportunity to do so.

"I will then represent them in a class action suit against you and each individual journalist who was involved in writing those slanderous and libellous remarks about them. You'll also notice I did not mention they would be going after the Daily Prophet media organisation; just you and your journalists.

"If I make that public, then Lord Potter will own the Daily Prophet media organisation almost outright within hours," he all but snarled. "I cannot see your other stockholders tolerating that. They will either dump the stock in fear of the value dropping, fire your bum, or both.

"Lord Potter will then buy up all the shares, thereby gaining majority shareholder-ship on his own, then he will fire your arse if it hasn't already been fired. Then he will print the retraction.

"Either way, that retraction is going to be printed."

Cuffe stared back in not a little fear.

"The question you need to decide for yourself is... do you want to remain Editor or not? And the only way for that to occur is for you to print the retraction first."

"Now, are you ready to take notes?"

Shaking and trying hard not to, lest he cause his quill to leak ink all over the parchment before him, Cuffe replied, "Y-yes."

"Good. First, you are going to print the retraction about your story that slandered Lord Potter in this morning's paper. As part of that retraction you are going to write you made assumptions based on the information provided you from a manipulative, lying old man. You will not specifically name him. After all, we don't want to see you sued for slander by him, do we?"

"Second, you are..."

When Ted walked out twenty minutes later, he was internally smirking. He never actually said he had the authorisation of the majority of shareholders, just that the Houses were 'friends', which was true enough.

He also knew Harry and Sirius both would not hesitate to make a swift move on purchasing any shares that hit the market because of the information the Editor and journalists were going to be sued, got out. He would even be the one getting it out.

'Oh, it's good to be me,' he thought. 'Hot and successful in her own right wife, successful and powerful daughter already making her rise in the auror corps, a successful business of my own that now has two of the Seven as House clients with two more Noble and Ancient Houses as clients as well. It's all good.'

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Still not having been informed of the password to his old office, Dumbledore was forced to wait for over ten minutes after he arrived at the gargoyle before Marchbanks turned up, slowly hobbling along the passageway towards him.

As soon as she was close enough, he asked, "Really, Griselda. Was it absolutely necessary to force me to wait for quite so long?"

"Unless you have a cure for old age, Albus; yes," she snapped back. "I'm not as spry as I used to be, you know."

Of course, Dumbledore knew that, no matter what he said in response to that, he'd be on defence; so he wisely kept silent.

As the Headmistress, Marchbanks did not need to use the password to gain entrance. She just looked at the gargoyle and it hopped aside for her.

When Dumbledore looked like he was going to stride forward and onto the stairs, Marchbanks whacked him on the closest shin with her cane.

As Dumbledore reactively gave a yelp and jumped back, she firmly said, "Ladies first, Albus."

Now wanting to hop on one foot and massage his shin where she'd struck him, he suppressed that desire and scowled at her back as she began to ascend. He followed her a few seconds later.

Once inside and behind her desk, she made Dumbledore stand before it like a naughty school child while she settled herself.

Once ready she turned her attention to him and said, "I'm adding yet another black mark to your record, Albus. Did you think me that stupid I would not work out it was you who gave that report about Lord Potter not choosing to attend the Yule Ball to the Prophet?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he indignantly shot back.

"Really," she drawled. "So you deny you both knew it was going to be Lord Potter's intent not to attend, or that you are the so-called staff member of Hogwarts who informed the Daily Prophet of this?"

"How the Daily Prophet find the information they do is no longer my concern," he huffed.

"I notice you didn't deny either of those points, Albus," she said. "Try again."

"I will neither deny nor admit, Griselda," he snapped. "I am not on trial, here."

"Trial? No," she agreed. "You are, however, being asked by your employer if you had any role to play in the Daily Prophet getting wind of Lord Potter's desire not to attend the upcoming Yule Ball. The Yule Ball, I might add, which will likely not be going ahead, anyway.

"And you are to address me directly as 'Headmistress Marchbanks' or simply 'Headmistress'. I have not given you leave to address me as anything else.

"Now, answer the question I put to you; do you deny you both knew it was going to be Lord Potter's intent not to attend, or that you are the so-called staff member of Hogwarts who informed the Daily Prophet of this?

"If you do not give me a direct answer to that question, then I will accept it as being both you being blatantly disrespectful of senior authority and a negative response in both cases."

Dumbledore stood there, frustrated. Eventually he replied, "No."

Marchbanks sat there staring back for a long moment before she said, "An honest answer. Just so you know, Albus. I'm fully aware Lord Potter informed you of his intent not to attend the Ball. I'm also fully aware that, until that article appeared in this morning's Daily Prophet, no other member of my staff was so aware other than myself.

"As I know I did not inform the Daily Prophet of Lord Potter's intent, that left only you."

"As such, Albus, you have yet again brought disrepute onto this school. As you know, that's one of the clauses by which I can terminate your tenure. That's yet another entry for my file on you I can present to the School Board to show why I have done so, when I do so.

"You are dismissed. Get out."

Dumbledore glared back for a moment before he spun about in fury and stormed out.

This time Marchbanks almost, but not quite, slammed the door into his back as he stormed through the doorway.

"Idiot," she muttered.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

After breakfast and the Granger adults had left for the day, Harry had just called Dobby to bring down the stack of House documents Ted had delivered when Sirius mirror-called him. This morning, he had his mirror on him when he came down for breakfast.

"Padfoot," he said to the mirror.

When it cleared Sirius immediately said, "You were right. I found it in the Black library."

"Counter-curse?" Harry immediately asked back.

"Yep," grinned his godfather now waving the book in front of him.

"What about the two portkeys?" he asked.

"Being organised."

"Then all that's left to do is have them delivered and activated," said Harry.

Switching to a worried expression Sirius asked, "Are you sure you don't want to wait until Longbottom inducts her brother into the Longbottom Seat as Proxy?"

Harry thought about that for a moment and instead of making a decision he asked, "Heard anything about when your trial is likely to be?"

"Yep. Tuesday morning immediately prior to the Wizengamot General Meeting," he replied.

"In that case, we'll see if the goblins of Gringotts are willing to allow the use of their time chamber for this," suggested Harry. "If they are, then yes. I don't want that man in the Longbottom Seat for long if she successfully gets him into it.

"Mind you, I don't think getting him into the Seat is her play."

"Why not?" asked Sirius.

"Because I think her play is to try to get him into the Seat and not succeed," he replied. "I think she wants me to successfully block it, so she can then claim she needs more time to find a better, more suitable candidate.

"The problem for her is, I know that's her play and I also want it to succeed. That way she thinks she's won against me.

"Oh, and I'm going to have to let Madam Bones know I'll be taking my Seat immediately after your trial for the beginning of the day; and why.

"'Uncle Algie' is going to find himself being arrested instead of inducted.

"Toss my god-brother off a bloody pier and drop him out a window, will he? Let's see how he likes two charges of 'Attempted murder of an Heir Apparent of a Noble and Most Ancient House' rammed down his throat."

"Ah!" said Sirius. "Now I understand why."

Harry nodded.

"If you're done?"

"Yep," he replied.

"Then let me talk to my magical ward," said Sirius.

Harry passed Hermione the mirror. Then, as she talked with Sirius, he pulled parchment, ink and quills to himself.

'We need to replenish our stationery supplies,' he thought. 'We're getting far too low. And isn't that a surprise, considering we'd be using a fair bit in our classes at Hogwarts during this break if school was still on.'

He started to get to work on writing a letter to Madam Bones. That one he'd have delivered by one of the aurors.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Procrastinating about the work of the House of Potter sent to him by Ted, Harry then started to draft a letter to Neville. He needed to make sure Neville thought he was being a friend and not just being a git by having his 'Uncle Algie' arrested.

In the workout draft he laid out some paragraphs to use. One on why he felt someone who would do what his 'Uncle Algie' did to him needs to face justice for doing it. A second on how, no matter what happens, he considered Neville his god-brother

~ # ~

I have some great news I wish to share with you. You're one of the very first outside of the Potter and Granger households to be informed of this. Hermione and I are now betrothed through a formal wizarding Betrothal Agreement. Yay!

If you're wondering why her parents, muggles, would go along with something like this when the muggle world hasn't had such agreements for over two hundred years, the next will put it into context.

Fundamentally, the BA was drafted to protect Hermione from harm. During an examination by a Master Healer, it was discovered someone with white hair had dosed her with a loyalty enhancement potion back in, by the looks of it, our first year. It scared her when she found out and freaked her parents out a bit.

The BA was drafted by my new Law-wizard of Record, Ted Tonks (you may remember him as Lord Black's Law-wizard at his trial). To make it legal, Lord Black first became Hermione's magical guardian with the blessing of her parents. Then the BA was signed, with even Hermione's father co-signing it. That way, no one can quibble over it.

Even though the BA was conceived to protect Hermione, I want you to be the first of our friends to know that I've finally woken up and realised I love her with all my heart. And she's now confessed she's loved me for even longer. Damn, that's soppy - but it's true!

Next issue: You may find me soon doing some things you don't agree with, Neville; or that might upset you. But I beg you to always keep in the forefront of your mind, when you think I'm working against you, things are not always as they seem.

If you haven't had a chance to yet, I want you to read the Potter-Longbottom Alliance Charter. It lays out how the alliance Houses will aid each other. It also states in what situations the other Houses are to provide that aid. It is very important to what will soon be going on. It will help you to understand what I'm doing is for you, not against you.

I know you're going to worry. And I'm deeply sorry for that. But our Houses are greater than us as individuals and, therefore, I must do what I must.

You will understand within a few days. At first you may want to kill me - however, I promise you with all my magic, by the end of it you won't.

~ # ~

After he finished that part of the body of the letter he'd send Neville, he passed it on to Hermione to read. She had already disconnected her call with Sirius.

"You know that's going to make him worry even more, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah," he sighed. "But I'm hopeful that the longer time of worry will make the shorter time that's to come less stressful for him."

"Maybe," she said. "But your apology at the end of it better be long and heartfelt. When do you plan to send it to him?"

"As soon as our plans are set and I have confirmation from the goblins," he replied. "But there's more I need to add, yet. I just don't know what."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

The two finally moved on to the pile of documents from Ted and were working through it right up to lunch. Of course, Harry stopped twice to refill his growling stomach, each time Hermione heard it. He was prepared to ignore it, but she wasn't.

"Eat, Harry," she urged him. "The sooner you're up to correct health, the sooner you're through the potions and the sooner you won't have to worry about them any more"

She then turned to the side a little and called for Dobby.

"Yes, Miss-tress Herm'nee?" he asked.

"Something for Harry to eat, please," she said. "Something he can hold in his off hand to eat while he goes through the documents."

"Yes, Miss-tress Herm'nee," replied the eager little elf. "At once!"

"I could have made something myself, you know," he grumbled.

"Not without stopping going through these documents, you couldn't," she retorted. "However, if it's a break you wanted, you don't need the excuse of wanting to cook to take it."

A plate of quarter-cut sandwiches appeared next to his left hand. And a second appeared next to her right.

"Looks like you're munching while reading, too," he smirked.

She just moved her plate closer to be between them and said, "Maybe."

As she expected, Harry wolfed his own down and eyed hers, which weren't touched yet.

Smirking to herself, she said, "Go ahead, Harry. I didn't want them in the first place, remember?"

That plate emptied quick-smart, too.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

It was while he and Hermione were again taking a walk around the back yard when Harry had his epiphany, as he later called it.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin!" he suddenly exclaimed, startling Hermione. "I am such a twit!"

"Harry!" she suddenly exclaimed in shock at his own sudden exclamation.

When Harry spun to look at her, wondering what was wrong, she had a hand lightly to her chest between her breasts.

"What?" he asked

"What do you mean, what?" she shot back. "You scared the life out me!"

"Oh!" he sheepishly replied. "Sorry."

"What was all that about?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," he replied. "I've just realised I've been 'infected by the wizarding daft moron virus'."

"P-Pardon?"

"The daft moron virus!" he repeated. "I've turned into a daft moron!"

With a snort leading the way, she asked, "Ohh-kay. What's led you to believe that?"

He replied, "I've been thinking we need to ask the aurors to allow us to go to Diagon Alley to buy some more stationery supplies."

"Yes?" she asked. "And?"

"We don't need to go, if that's all we're going for!" he explained, throwing his hands up. "House elves can be sent to buy that sort of thing for you!"

"Oh," she said, understanding. Then she grinned. Then she began to laugh.

"It's not funny!" he declared. "I'm infected!"

That just made her laugh even harder. And made him sulk a bit.

"Harry," she patiently said. "I didn't think of that, either."

That made him feel better but not happier. "I just didn't see it," he grumbled.

"When we get back inside you can send Dobby to Diagon Alley as soon as you want. However..."

"However?" he asked, starting to lead the two of them back to the back of the house.

"How about we make a list of things for Dobby to buy us before you send him," she explained. "I'm sure there's more than just 'stationery' for him to buy."

"Yeah, and that's the other problem," he grumbled as they reached the back door.

As he held it open for her, she asked, "What's that?"

Stepping in after her and closing the door, he replied, "Think of how those in the wizarding world buy their groceries. Do you remember seeing a grocery store in the Alley?"

"Errr... no," she replied, stopping to turn to him with a confused expression.

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "There isn't one there!"

Going back upstairs to the main floor and into the kitchen, he called, "Dobby."

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

"Dobby, when you were with the Malfoy's, did you do the food shopping?"

"Yes, Master Harry," he replied. "That was beings one of Dobby's works he shared with Peggy."

"How do you do it?" he asked. "I mean, where do you go to buy food?"

"There beings a muggle shop being run by squibbies," replied Dobby. "All elveses go there."

"So, if I was to give you a shopping list," he asked. "You'd be able to fill it by buying what I've listed?"

"Yes, Master Harry," replied the elf. "Does this mean Master Harry is going to be lettings Dobby doing shopping work now?"

"Most of it, yeah," he sighed.

Dobby grinned excitedly back.

"I'll have a list for you within the next few days," he almost morosely sighed.

"Yes, Master Harry!" exclaimed Dobby, before he popped away again.

Hermione was now sitting back at the dinette, turned away from him. But, she wasn't fooling him for one moment. The shaking of her shoulders meant only one thing. She was laughing at him and trying not to show it.

"I am a daft moron!" he firmly declared to the world - well, at least the kitchen. "However, I shall not embrace it! I shall overcome it, by doing better. I shall strive to rid myself of this infection with all my heart and mental... acuity. And I shall succeed!"

Her tinkling gay laughter did nothing to make him feel any better.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

During an afternoon tea break, Sirius called Harry.

Because Harry was stuffing his face yet again, Hermione had to answer the call.

Sirius took one look at his godson, hurrying to clear his mouth of food, and laughed.

As he swallowed, Harry scowled. "Stop it. You know I can't help it."

"I know, Pup," replied Sirius. "But, that doesn't mean I can't laugh about it, does it."

Hermione leaned in and said, "Harry's grown about three to four inches taller in the past few days!"

Unsurprised, Sirius gave a nod and said, "By my estimation he's got some more growing to do yet, kiddo."

Hermione grinned and nodded. "Any reason you decided to mirror call us?" she asked.

"Yeah," he returned. "Harry?"

As Hermione angled the mirror better for him, Harry was quickly trying to swallow another mouthful.

"Don't swallow on my account!" declared his godfather, before laughing a little again.

Harry scowled back.

"Listen," said Sirius. "The goblins have agreed to the use of their time dilation chamber. However, they need to go no later than the early hours of tomorrow morning for it to have a reasonable chance of being done on time for Tuesday morning. Recovery time is needed."

"Shhhhhyte!" he muttered. He thought for a few moments, reached a decision and said, "Alright. Do it."

Sirius then went on to define what terms the Goblins wanted for use of the chamber, plus the secrecy oaths they insisted be a part of that. The price was a 'biggy', but not financial. It related to a boon Gringotts owed the House of Potter.

"Understood," said Harry. "And, I agree to the terms."

When Sirius nodded back, he continued, "I need to get one letter off to Neville and want the goblins to take a letter into the chamber with them for me.

"So, I've now got some writing to do. I'll send both letters via Hedwig, as soon as I can today. I'll have her go to you first, before flying on to Longbottom Hall."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Sirius. "I think this is actually going to work."

"Once you found that curse and counter-curse I'd figured, right then, this was going work. It was just how we were going to go about accomplishing it that was the major variable.

"All that's mainly left to do for the rest of us is watch it happen."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Straight after the mirror call and finishing his 'snack', Harry pushed all the Potter documents to the other end of the table and out of the way. Then brought across his draft of text for the letter to Neville. That had to be completed, as did the second one.

The two of them added what they could to 'help' Neville through what was about to happen. But, couldn't flat out tell him because they all knew his grandmother would immediately step in and block it.

He was about to ask Hermione to rewrite it so all the crossed out and moved sections were rectified when he realised he had to write it because it had to be in his hand.

He had her make a start on writing up paragraphs for the second letter on one sheet, while he wrote paragraphs of another section on another sheet.

Having a bit of a brainwave, he called, "Dobby."

"Yes, Master Harry?"

"Do I own, or do you know where I can buy, a Dicta-quill?" he asked.

"Dobby be goings to check Potter vaults," declared the elf before it popped away.

Even though both teens were 'antsy' about the success of Harry's plan that began its practical component that night. Once it was decided to go ahead, Harry began to calm down while Hermione's worry ratcheted up.

"Hermione," he tried, when he saw her worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth.

"Hunh?" she asked.

"The decision is made," he said. "I know you're worried, but the time for worry is now past. I'm as confident as I can be that this will succeed."

With a pop, Dobby returned. "There be no Dicta-quills in Potter vaults, Master Harry," replied the elf. "But Dobby be knowings where he can borrow one."

His expression turning into a smirk, Harry asked, "And do the current owners know you'll be borrowing one?"

"Theys will not be knowings Dobby be borrowings one if Dobby can gets it back to thems today," replied the elf, confidently.

Giving a snort of amusement, Harry said, "Fair enough. However, I don't want to borrow it, just yet... Actually, yes; go get it."

"Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I'll dictate the main body of the letter, the history, as a statement, Hermione," he replied. "That way I can get it done in time. Otherwise, I don't think I can tell them everything they need to know before the time chamber activates."

"What do you consider everything they need to know?" she asked.

"Everything I know about what's going on," he firmly replied. "I will not keep anything from them."

When Dobby popped back a short while later, because of recent experience in watching one set up and used, Harry quickly had it set up and working.

With a nod of satisfaction, he erected a muffling charm about himself and the quill, closed his eyes to get his thoughts in order and began to firmly speak. It took almost two hours and he ended up with over sixteen feet of Dicta-quill filled parchment.

Somewhere along the line, Dobby had kept him supplied with tea. But his throat was still a little hoarse by the end of it.

Stopping the quill he turned to Hermione and asked, "How'd your part go?"

Sliding over what she'd done, Harry realised she'd decided to write the letter as a separate document to the statement Harry made. The statement would then be an 'attachment' to the letter.

With a nod and a smile back he said, "Good idea."

Folding both into envelopes and writing just the addressee's name on both, Hermione called, "Dobby."

"Yes, Miss-tress Herm'nee?"

Holding both letters out to him, she asked, "Can you please deliver both these to Lord Black at the Tonkses Home?"

"Yes, Mistress Herm'nee," he replied with a short bob, taking the letter and popping away.

Turning to Harry she said, "As you said, faster than an owl. And there's a certain level of urgency for this."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Because he was busy dictating his message, Harry didn't have time to cook dinner that night as 'cheffy' as he wanted. So, in the end, he just went for fast and tasty - Fish 'n' Chips - always a good British staple because it was quick and easy to prepare.

However, he did dress it up quite a bit with Dobby's help. This 'Fish 'n' Chips' for chips included normal potato, sweet potato and carrot sticks. And the fish included sole, squid rings, onion rings, little chunks of octopus and crab sticks; all battered. Adding to that went a light tossed salad, a vinaigrette for the salad and home-made tartare sauce for the fish.

Dessert was a simple bread and butter pudding.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

As dinner wound down Monica asked the two what they 'got up to' during the day.

"Well," said Hermione, with a slight smirk on her lips. "We spent quite a bit of it going through the Potter family documents; which we're now more than halfway through."

With her smirk widening, she added, "And Harry determined just after lunch that he has been, as he puts it..."

Harry groaned and hung his head.

"... 'Infected with the wizarding daft moron virus'!" And laughed.

Watching her daughter laugh as Harry hung his head in apparent shame, Monica smirked and asked, "And what led him to believe that?"

"Because I completely forgot about something in the wizarding world that is as obvious as the sun rises in the east," replied Harry, as Hermione continued to chuckle.

With a sigh he explained, "The wizarding world needs groceries, right?"

With a confused frown, Monica nodded back.

"Therefore, there has to be a shop to buy them from, right?"

Nod.

"However, there is not a grocery shop, or any similar shop, in Diagon Alley."

Nod.

"So, how do wizards and witches buy groceries?"

"Those with house elves send the house elves to do the shopping," replied one of the aurors. "Those without use a mail order system. For urgent needs, there's a small store in Godric's Hollow that accepts both wizarding and muggle currency."

"Uh-huh," said Harry. "I didn't know about the second part, but I did realise about the first only today. That was my 'daft moron' realisation moment.

"Instead of having to go and do the grocery shopping myself, having to convert wizarding currency to muggle currency ahead of time just to shop, I... finally figured out I could have had Dobby doing the shopping for me using wizarding currency."

Wendell gave a snort of amusement but otherwise kept quiet.

"According to Dobby, there is a large grocery store run by squibs where the elves can do the shopping on behalf of their masters and mistresses. It just never occurred to me that was the likely answer; when it should have, because I know damned well there is no way someone like Narcissa Malfoy, for instance, would be caught dead in a grocery store."

That had the table laughing or chuckling away.

Chuckling, Wendell said, "Well, it's good to know the Great Harry Potter, Sir, is as mortal as the rest of us."

Harry just groaned as the table laughed.

"That's a good thing to now know anyway, Harry," said Hermione.

"Hunh?" he asked.

"What do you think is going to be the reaction when someone like Lucius Malfoy finds out the food they eat is bought from squibs?" she asked. "And that it's the same food eaten by 'dirty' muggles?"

That surprised the table. Harry gawped at her. "Hermione! That's evil!"

"That's something I'll fire back at Malfoy the younger if he ever gets snotty with me again," she smirked.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed with glee. "I wonder if Hogwarts buys their food from the same store, or even one very similar."

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ