Chapter Eighty One - Figuring Out Harry
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 Eighty One - Figuring Out Harry
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When the four returned to Green Fields late that afternoon, Harry was basically ready to collapse. The three girls, however, were still full of excitement; especially Astoria.
"That... was... a-maz-ing!" the youngest of the four of them half-squealed half-giggled.
Harry just groaned and said, "I'm going for a lie-down before dinner. You three nearly killed me."
Surprising even Harry, Astoria blew a raspberry at him and giggled again.
The girls had spent quite a bit of money on the trip. Harry didn't begrudge them, but he was very glad he was able to call Dobby no less than three times to come and take all their bags from them. He'd have been swamped under if he wasn't.
Then again, maybe they'd not have bought as much.
All Harry knew was that a great deal of what was purchased was in the ladies' unmentionables section, as it made up almost a full quarter, bags-wise, of what they'd bought for the day.
He'd returned to his room to check with both Dobby and Betsy that all the bags had been brought back - and told all the clothes had been unboxed or unpackaged, washed, pressed and put into drawers - before he collapsed onto his bed.
However, he'd only been there a few minutes when both Hermione and Daphne came, got him and dragged him into their small ex-bedroom sitting room.
When he'd asked why, he was firmly told, "Time for your fashion parade, Harry."
When he looked confused she said, "Daphne, Fleur and I think this is something we'd like to do for you, each time we go out and significantly increase our wardrobes."
"As I said last time," he tried to explain, "You don't need to do this. I'm sure I'll get a chance to see everything you've bought, sooner or later."
However, all Hermione did was smile, tell him to stay sitting on the couch he was on and walked back out the door.
He'd be getting his fashion parade, after all. And this time it would be of ladies' muggle fashion.
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Christmas morning was, in a single word, brilliant.
Knowing they'd be moving to France that very afternoon, the Potter four were all packed and ready to go the previous evening. They didn't want any part of the day disturbed by having to pack.
Harry was up early and, due to the amount of nervous energy he was experiencing, went for a morning around the grounds of Green Fields. He was back inside and heading up to his room before just about everyone else was up, except Astoria.
Coming down the stairs as he went up, she gave him a slight frown before she asked, "You've been out?"
"I went for a run," he smiled.
She gave a mock-shudder and said, "Not for me, thank you."
He was just about to turn away and continue his climb up the stairs when she said, "I can trust you to wake Daphne and the other two?"
"Of course," he smiled.
He didn't need to as, as soon as he walked in through the door in the temporary wall in their wing, he saw all three of his ladies were already up.
He didn't even get a chance to say anything when Daphne, clearly a little excited, said, "Come on, Harry. Get showered and dressed. It's Christmas!"
Giving a small snort of amusement, Harry was quickly into his room, stripped off and into his shower.
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The Christmas was as wonderful as the last, though this time they were at the Greengrasses and there were two more Harry considered 'his' than the previous year.
Even though they'd be returning from France to be with the Grangers, Harry still knew the right thing to do was to at least visit them before they left. So, about an hour after the gift unwrapping portion of the morning, The Potter four flooed to the Doghouse and spent a couple hours, plus lunch, with them before needing to return to Green Fields.
The Grangers left at the same time they did, as they were visiting family and staying with them for the next couple of days. They'd only delayed their trip to spend that couple of hours with Hermione, Harry, Daphne and Fleur.
Almost as soon as they were back at Green Fields, they had to leave again. This time, to the Ministry to internationally portkey across to France.
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Thought they'd spent the morning unwrapping gifts around the Yule Log at Green Fields, very soon after arriving in France they were unwrapping even more gifts from under the Christmas Tree at Delacour Manoir.
As for accommodation, Fleur had obviously been in close contact with her mother about their accommodations in Green Fields. Appoline had not been able to get something similar in place yet, but promised it would be done by Summer.
In the mean time, a temporary illusion wall had been erected at 'their' end of the second floor of the manor with all four bedrooms behind it; no living or common room, though. Even for that effort, Appoline still found her cheeks bussed by the Potters in thanks.
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Winter or not, Bordeaux in France was still warm. At least, it was warmer than the weather would be in Britain for two thirds of the year. Only summer and, possibly, a couple weeks either side would be warmer.
Though he did not detest snow, Harry thought it was still pleasant not to have to deal with it when he was outside and about. On one of their trips into muggle Bordeaux, a French city not far from Delacour Manoir, Harry was surprised to learn that the Garonne River, even that far inland, still had ocean-going shipping reaching the city.
When he saw the huge concrete buildings in a 'locked' basin just north of the city, a local informed him they were submarine pens from back during the Second War. Now, they were being converted into an exhibition centre, of sorts.
What interested him more, though, was the sight of a huge private motor yacht berthed within the locked area nearby. He'd once heard his Uncle refer to a boat, let alone a motor yacht, as an acronym for 'Bring Out Another Thousand', referring to the cost of just having such a vessel. He thought a motor yacht of the size he saw would probably be about twenty times that amount.
However, he had the money and, once things settled down after their schooling was complete, gave himself a mental note to investigate the ownership of one similar.
However, Bordeaux was more famous for its close-by vineyards. And a day was spent 'wine tasting' the region's wines, even if it was a little chilly. He even bought a couple of bottles of what he was assured were 'starter' wines, just for those new to drinking wine.
Before they even realised the time was upon them, it was New Years Eve and a shift back to London.
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They arrived in London at 1.00pm local and were picked up by Sirius. Then, ten minutes later, they were out the floo in the Doghouse.
Dobby and Betsy, already waiting for them, had their trunks and other effects up in their rooms, lickety-split.
As they were welcomed by the adult Grangers, Monica explained where each would find their rooms, though Harry had figured that out some time ago from his memories of the house.
"Harry; you're in your old room," she explained. "And Daphne and Fleur are in the two guest rooms on the top floor with Hermione."
Turning to the two, she said, "I'm sorry, but you two will be sharing a semi-ensuite bathroom on that floor."
"That's quite alright, Missus Granger," said Fleur. "It will not be a 'ardship. We are just thankful you are so welcoming of both of us."
Daphne nodded, showing her agreement.
As Harry was about to head up the stairs, Monica latched onto his elbow to hold him back.
When he stopped to look back, curious, she quietly said, "Mind having a quick word with me before you head upstairs?"
"Not at all, Mum," he replied, "You know that."
She immediately grinned at him for his 'Mum' comment, but didn't say anything further, just led him through to the parlour.
Once he and her were sitting kitty-corner to one another - he on a lounge and her in an armchair - she looked firmly to him and said, "I need a straightforward and honest answer from you, Harry."
He gave a nod back, curious as to what she needed to know.
"'Dell and I know you need to sleep regularly with Fleur because of that life debt that exists between you," she began. "However, are you also now sleeping with Hermione and Daphne... or either?"
He immediately blushed, which pretty much confirmed it for her, and he simply replied, "Yes."
"Yes?" she pressed. "Yes, to both?"
"Yes," he nodded. However, he remained looking her directly in the eyes, as he felt he had nothing to apologise for and did not feel ashamed for it.
"I thought so," she replied. "And, thank you for the honest answer."
He just gave a slight shrug in response.
"Can you do me a favour?" she asked.
"Of course," he replied.
"Can you... not... while you're staying here for the next few days?" she almost begged.
"If you'd like," he replied. "We had not planned to, anyway."
"Thank you," she sighed. Explaining, she said, "This is one of those situations where everyone knows what's going on and everyone knows that everyone else knows, but no one talks about it and acts like no one else knows. Do you understand?"
He frowned slightly in confusion before he said, "You want us to act as if we don't to give the illusion we don't, when you know we do."
"Yes," she replied.
"Alright," he slowly said. "I'll let the others know."
"Thank you," she said again, starting to stand.
Knowing the conversation was over, Harry gave her a nod before joining the ladies upstairs.
He didn't know why Monica wanted them to act that way, but he hoped his ladies would know.
They explained it to him.
Hermione said, "Though he pretty much knows it's not true, Daddy wants to hold onto the belief that his little princess is still a virgin. By pretending we aren't having sex, he gets to keep his belief I'm not. However, that belief is shattered if we let him know by word or action that we sleep together. Understand?"
"Yeah, I can see that," he replied. "But, I don't see the point."
"It's a father thing, Harry," said Daphne. "You'll probably understand once you become a father of a little girl."
He nodded and said, "In that case, I'll wait until then."
Thankfully, they were only at the Grangers for three nights.
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When they arrived at The Kennel on the Monday morning, Sirius was waiting for them.
"Come on," he said, turning to make his way to the stairs. "I've managed to rearrange things for you."
Before any of them had a chance to ask what he meant, they were on the 'Potter' floor and looking at the same temporary wall set up as at Green Fields.
"What the...?" muttered Harry.
Sirius hadn't even paused before opening the door and showing them the modified hallway. "Voila!" he gestured.
The hallway past the door was only about six feet long, but four doors - two either side - came off it.
Indicating each, he said, "Hermione and Harry on the left; Daphne and Fleur on the right."
When Harry opened his door it was to see everything as it was the previous summer. However, it was in a different room, this time. Thinking back, he realised Hermione was now in his old room and he was in Daphne's old room. Hermione's old room was now outside the cut off section.
The two rooms opposite were where Daphne's room had been moved to and Fleur now had her own. There was no room off the end of the hallway, as beyond that wall was the ensuites for Harry's and Daphne's new rooms.
"Wow!" said Harry, checking the last of the rooms, Fleur's. "Just... wow!"
Sirius nodded with a smirk and and said, "I believe the idea was Daphne's?"
"Yes," she replied. "However, I only made the suggestion to my mother. I did not expect..."
"We do talk to one another, you know," Sirius wryly said.
Daphne gave a very slight blush and said, "I apologise. I'm just surprised to see an off-the-wand-tip comment of mine being both so readily accepted and proven to work."
"Brilliant ideas tend to get around, Daphne," he said, his voice a lot more relaxed. "Just look at Harry's idea of using house elves to send urgent messages, for one."
She nodded back.
"Now, said Sirius, "I have someone for you all to meet. Let's go to the parlour."
Surprised, Sirius was reticent about whoever this 'someone' was, Harry asked, "This isn't the long-lost Heir of Merlin, or something, is it? After tracking down CeeCee―"
Sirius barked his laugh and replied, "No; no one like that."
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When they entered the parlour it was to see a woman stand from one of the armchairs near the fire and turn towards them. To Harry, she looked a little worried.
As they walked in, Sirius immediately went to her; an approach, Harry could see, was very welcomed by her.
The body language of both immediately gave Harry an inkling of 'what' she was, but not 'who'.
As soon as Sirius moved to stand by her side and wrapped an arm around her waist; to Harry, it confirmed his belief.
With a proud smile on his face, Sirius said, "Harry... Hermione... Daphne... Fleur; this lovely young lady is Jacinta Sykes, who prefers to be called 'Jace'."
Turning to Sykes he went on, "Jace; these are, in order, my godson, Harrison Potter; my magical - but not physical - ward and his betrothed, Hermione Granger; his first concubined, Daphne Greengrass; and his second concubined, Fleur Delacour."
Turning back to Harry he said, "Harry... ladies... as of a week and a half ago, Jacinta here is my betrothed." And grinned.
While the three girls hurried forward to wrap the now slightly blushing and older witch in hugs of congratulations, Harry gave a snort of amusement, moved to the side a little apart as his godfather joined him. He asked, "Any relation to Jocunda Sykes; the first to ever ride a broom from one side to the other of the Atlantic?"
"Her grandmother," he smiled with a confirming nod. "On an old Oakshaft 79, if I remember correctly. Jace is Heir Secondary to her grandmother's broom company, Starsweeper, in MaCUSA. That's the broom company she started over there, because there were already too many over here."
Harry gave a surprised glance to his godfather before he quietly asked, "And there's no common ancestor within the past five generations?"
Sirius happily grinned and just as quietly replied, "No. We had it confirmed just before Yule."
Harry grinned back and said, "I'm happy for you."
Appearing almost relieved at Harry's comment, he gave a nod to Sykes and said, "Come and meet her." And led the short distance to her. His ladies gave them room.
Harry was surprised when Sykes had a decidedly American accent. He put it as probably western US, but also knew he wasn't one to be accurate with regards to 'regional' accents to anywhere but Britain.
On direct introduction, when Sykes referred to him as 'Lord Potter', he immediately said, "Call me Harry, please. From the look on Sirius's face, you're here to stay."
She smiled back and, blushing a little, firmly said, "And call me 'Jace', please. I think only my grandmother still calls me Jacinta."
"If I may ask," said Hermione. "How did you meet?"
While the question was a little forward, it was somewhat excused due to her being a magical ward of Sirius.
"Grandmother still seeks to get a foothold into magical Britain for Starsweeper," she replied. "I was sent to make contact with persons of importance in magical Britain to see if they could aid her in that.
"One of my first contacts was Siri... I mean, Lord Black. We... found we hit it off, right from the start."
"Turned the charm on, did he?" asked Harry.
"It wasn't like that," said Sirius, quick to cut in. "At least, it wasn't like that at the start."
"No," said Jace, shaking her head in agreement. "He heard me out, said he didn't know if he could help and then offered to take me to dinner to see if he could help some other way."
Sirius added, "While I don't think Starsweeper would get any legs in Britain, broom sales wise, that's not to say any other product they produce wouldn't."
"And we think he's right," said Jace. "There's no Quodpot distributor in magical Britain; nor broomracing. I've already advised grandmother that being the distributor of products for those two sports will be our main avenue in gaining a foothold."
"An area in which I'm happy to help," smiled Sirius.
"And that first dinner led to more dinners and... here you are," said Hermione.
"Yep," smiled Sirius. "We've been dating, now, for about three months. However, we've found we simply... clicked. I think I knew she was 'the one' on about our sixth date."
"I knew by our third," Jace almost smugly returned with a wide grin.
"He's a boy," said Hermione. "It can take them a while."
While all four ladies snickered, Sirius mock-whined, "Hey!" Then grinned.
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While the Potters weren't there on the day, Sirius felt it would benefit both Harry and Hermione if the next evening they could hold a 'mock' wizarding New Years Eve evening. Harry had no idea a tradition of the wizarding world was very similar to the no-mag Hallowe'en of the USA.
They enjoyed a dinner before congregating in the parlour for drinks, nibblies and for each to give a testimony of how they believed the previous year went and what they hoped for the coming year.
Harry and his three learned more about Jace during that time. She had attended Ilvermorny and was a student in Thunderbird House, the supposed House of those with an adventuring spirit. However, she'd also been chosen during the 'gordion knot' ceremony for Horned Serpent, the house of the scholar. In Ilvermorny when two or more of the spirits of the Houses choose to accept a student, it is the student who makes the final decision between the Houses that chose him or her.
They also learned that Jace had always had a bit of wandering spirit and readily offered to be her grandmother's agent in attempting to secure a business base in magical Britain.
"She was not prepared to do so while Albus Dumbledore was still, more or less, running things here," she explained. "She never trusted him. He'd tried to recruit her, once, for something to do with an Order he headed and left in a huff when she basically laughed at him."
"The Order of the Phoenix," said Hermione. "I have to wonder, though, why he tried to recruit in MaCUSA. The Order was supposed to have been founded with the idea of opposing Tom Riddle."
"Grandmother believes he was just using that as an excuse to take the Order international," she replied. "He refused to tell her why, though."
Harry thought he knew, 'Because he was trying to take over the world in secret.'
At least now they knew why Jace was over 'now' and not 'before'. They were waiting for Dumbledore to be publicly knocked off his self-created pedestal or simply died.
In a quiet brought on by the end of one topic, Harry asked Sirius, "By the way; I take it cousin Cissy has returned to Black Manor?"
"She has," he nodded. "I believe it might also be because she wants to make sure she has the name 'Malfoy' firmly stripped from the place. While she was still here after you lot returned to school, with CeeCee's permission she called in the interior decorators to completely strip it of the Malfoy influence and turn it into a home CeeCee would love."
Harry smirked and asked, "And what of the Malfoy portraits?"
Sirius barked with laughter and simply replied, "Burned!"
"Well, then," Harry snickered. "She'll have plenty of room for portraits of those more worthy to hang upon the walls."
"Actually, for almost all of them she's hanging landscapes. However, she does seem a little insistent I hurry up and get a portrait done. And, because she is, you'll be getting one done next summer, too."
When Harry turned a pained look back, Sirius just laughed again.
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For most of their time at the Black Townhouse, Harry and his spent time doing their own things. However, the four still did things together, on occasion.
Harry took Neville flying, once. But, that was because he bought the other boy a a quality broom - a Cleansweep 7 - and said he'd be offended if Neville didn't learn how to properly ride it and make use of it. And Neville's return was that, since Harry gifted him with it, he'd have to help him learn how to master it.
The girls agreed, so Harry now had a new project. At least this one was an 'outside' project.
He'd already spent a couple of afternoons at Longbottom Hall teaching the other young man.
Oh, Neville would never be at Harry's level. But, Neville developed skills in spite of his innate anti-talent, as opposed to Harry's innate pro-talent. Harry was actually proud of his friend.
He could now fly with both feet up and with a confidence, though lacking assuredness, and hold his own in the air. However, he had to be kept well away from quaffles, and bludgers were utterly banned to fly within a kilometre of him. Neville had nearly fallen off when a starling swooped by him just the once.
His other major task was to go through both the January monthly statement plus the added End of Year Financial Report statements from Gringotts. The monthly statement only took him an hour or two, but the EOY report took a significant chunk of his week to wade through.
For his girls, a surprise came when Harry and Hermione were having an intimate moment - engaging in full on sex, missionary-style - when Fleur walked in, stripped off and laid beside Hermione.
Hermione was so shocked that, while she 'getting pounded', she turned her head to the side and stared at her 'co-wife', stunned silent. Harry hadn't even paused in his stroking.
It was a good fifteen seconds before Hermione finally found her voice. "Fle-urrr! Why-yyy... are... you... in... heee-errrre?"
"You've been 'ogging 'im, cherie," replied Fleur. "I want a turn."
When Hermione, still getting pounded, tried through her sexually-charged hormone-muddled mind to figure that one out, Fleur rolled to her side and towards them, reached between them and almost casually diddled Hermione's 'button' for all of about a second and a half.
Hermione suddenly stiffened, arched up and let out a screech that would have been heard on the street outside, let alone the rest of the Townhouse, if not for the strong silencing charms on the room. Her orgasm was that strong.
A long moment later she bonelessly flopped back onto the bed in a dead faint.
That had Harry stop. "Awww?"
Fleur grinned, rolled back onto her back and spread her legs. "My turn!" she happily declared.
Harry took one look at a passed out Hermione, disconnected, crab-walked sideways, docked and kept going with what had, for him, been interrupted.
"Yeehhhsss!" declared Fleur.
Later, a very pissed-off Hermione had both other 'wives' in her room and read them both the sexual version of the 'riot' act, especially about boundaries.
"What did I do?" asked a very confused Daphne.
Fleur calmly told her what she, Fleur, had done; causing Daphne to immediately pink. "Y-you didn't!" she gasped.
"'Arry was not going to stop until 'Ermione reached apogée," replied a calm Fleur. "I just... 'elped."
"You touched that which you were not invited to!" exclaimed Hermione.
"Then, I apologise," said Fleur. "'Owever, your body... welcomed it."
"That does not make it right!" snapped Hermione.
"Again, I apologise," said Fleur. "For Veela, this is not a big thing. And certainly not unwelcome when it 'appens."
"Well..." said frustrated Hermione. "Just... don't do it again!"
"I will not," said Fleur.
With a sigh, Hermione thought a moment before she said, "While I might not be averse to sharing Harry, I am averse to sharing myself."
Fleur simply nodded, but did look down in remorse.
It was only then that Hermione thought she had gotten through to the other woman.
Harry didn't learn of that little talk for quite some time - years, even. None of the three mentioned it to him. Unsaid by the three, even among themselves, it was believed this was something Harry need not know about at this time.
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Another subject that was often on the lips of the ladies of the Townhouse was the handfasting of Sirius and Jacinta. It was scheduled to be held on Sunday, 21st of July, that year; only six and a half months away.
Harry thought it was a bit 'quick' until he realised Sirius was not a man in his early twenties still finding his way; he was thirty six years old. Yes, twelve of those years were spent in Azkaban, but he was still not one to make snap erroneous decisions. Snap decisions, yes; erroneous decisions, those too; but not snap erroneous decisions.
He'd no grounds to speak with his godfather about the... alacrity... of his decision; so, he wouldn't. If Sirius wanted to speak about it later, he'd be there for him. And, if not him, then Remus.
However, that fore-shortened week at Black Townhouse often saw his ladies hunkered down with Jacinta and discussing the handfasting ceremony. He, quite frankly, wanted no part of it. He knew his sense of fashion was more or less limited to 'you do not wear shorts to a formal occasion'. He relied on his ladies to keep him on the straight and narrow when it came to those sort of things.
Of course, now back in magical Britain, Harry returned to his thrice-weekly sessions with Bincutty. However, he did ask how she thought his progress was going. He was honest with himself that he had no idea about that sort of thing.
"It is a work in progress, Lord Potter," she replied. "There are no hard and fast rules about this sort of thing. Progress that occurs too quickly is as bad as progress that occurs too slowly. It will come as it comes."
However, what she kept from him was that she was coming to a better understanding of what made Harry, to use a muggle phrase, 'tick'.
At the completion of the Friday session she returned, as always, to the ninth floor of the Ministry to give her report to Croaker.
"I think I now know what the pathology of Lord Potter's mental evaluation is going to show," she explianed. "He's partially autistic and partially suffering from a mental affliction known in the muggle world as Asperger's Syndrome."
Croaker frowned and asked, "He's brain damaged?"
"No," she was quick to reply. "The closest analogy I can come to is that he has a birth defect relating to the mind. It has a very minimal impact on his ability to live and is more akin to someone...say... born with their index fingers being longer than their middle fingers. It's noticeable but not really an issue.
"I've not completed my research yet into muggle studies in this area; however, I believe it is this... syndrome of which he suff... no... lives with that will lead us to understanding why obliviations and other mind magics do not work on him. To use a muggle phrase, his brain is simply wired differently; or, differently enough that such magics won't work upon him."
"Can it be replicated?" he asked.
"If you're thinking of using the same concept to make folks immune in a similar way; then, no, I do not think so," she replied. "That would be brain damage.
"However, if my research shows me which specific parts of the brain, from a physical sense, causes this syndrome, then we may be able to develop a potion, charm or similar which will replicate it without harming the mind of the so-protected."
"That's what I wanted to hear," muttered Croaker. "Such a development would be invaluable."
She gave a firm nod and said, "Hence why I will work diligently in studying muggle knowledge of this field of mental health. I, too, see the possible benefits."
Croaker gave a nod, said "Thank you," and returned to what he was doing.
Bincutty/Klein rose and left the office without a further word.
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After their three week (extended) Yule/Christmas break, the Potters et al departed for Kings Cross station for the return trip to Hogwarts.
Harry and his ladies plus CeeCee - escorted by Sirius, Jace and Narcissa - arrived early enough Harry was able to quickly secure two compartments, side-by-side, and start loading trunks. Again, Sirius boarded and quickly configured a temporary door between the two compartments for the Heirs to inter-mingle between the two without having to do so via the main corridor.
Again, though she did not need to, Fleur would be joining them on the trip. And this meant there were eleven of the Heirs across those two compartments. At a squeeze, that meant they had room for fourteen to all sit. But their eleven was still enough of a squeeze for such a long trip.
CeeCee had arrived the previous morning but, due to the time change of eight extra hours for her day, meant she was in bed quite early. Disappointing Harry, she didn't even have dinner that night. He'd cooked special for her.
The next morning he was able to cook her her egg-white omelette she preferred for breakfast when she had a day out of the house ahead of her, though.
'Note to self,' he thought. 'Make my special meal for her to be the midday meal the day she arrives. Something that won't sit heavy in the stomach when she anticipates going to bed late afternoon.'
That brought them to this morning.
After CeeCee was almost unmercilessly questioned by Hermione the previous day, which only ended when CeeCee fell asleep in the armchair across from her in the Townhouse library - Narcissa carried her upstairs and put her to bed - someone had obviously talked to the older girl and told her to stop. Harry suspected Narcissa, as Sirius wasn't as firm with her.
Now Hermione was almost reticent to speak with the girl.
It was Daphne who then took her aside that morning and explained why Narcissa was upset with her. And Hermione ended up apologising to the Malfoy dowager before the train left the platform.
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Once back at the castle, with Fleur again sitting at the head table as a 'guest' of the staff, the Heirs were sitting and talking during the first dinner of the year.
Not surprising Harry, CeeCee did not sit with them this time; she was sitting down the length a bit with Natalie and her other friends, with all five of them happily chatting away about their Christmas breaks. Of course that did not stop Harry, Hermione or Neville from keeping an eye on her.
As with the previous year, there were again family house elves watching over all the Heirs, hidden from normal eyesight. Even Harry was surprised when, the previous day, Narcissa informed him CeeCee also had one of the Malfoy elves following her about and had been keeping an eye on her since the day after Pucey had attacked her.
He suspected there were even more than he had known of, but thought it was prudent not to ask. There weren't, though.
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After dinner, the Heirs - less MacMillan - gathered at the bottom end of the Great Hall before starting to make their way up to the Lords' Quarters. Because there would be two 'singles' and a 'double' joining them in the Lords' Quarters - with, to the best of their knowledge, at least three of them being of Voldemort-supporter dark families - it was decided they'd definitely head up to the fifth floor as one succinct and unified body; just to be safe for at least the first night.
It sent a message, even if that message was unnecessary.
Walking into the private Lords' Quarters main corridor, they almost immediately bumped into Cassius Warrington and Marcus Belby. Belby and Warrington were standing in front of one of the doors, Apartment '1'; and being shown by Professor Sinistra, Mistress of Astronomy, how to key the doors of the apartments to themselves. Belby would be in Apartment '2'.
About thirty feet further along was Professor Vector (of Arithmancy) showing David Urquhart and his betrothed, Pamela Alton, how to do the same for Apartment '4'. Gibberd and Whitehead must have arrived earlier as the Heirs hadn't passed by them and they didn't see them in the Hallway before they would have entered Apartment '3'.
The Heirs all sent each other knowing looks between the 'families' and simply walked into their own Quarters at the other end of the Hall.
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―==(oIo)==―
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The next morning Harry was, as usual, up early to cook a breakfast for Fleur before she had to floo into Gringotts for work, so was up and in the 'public' areas of the apartment when his other two rose.
Hermione came out of her room, still trying to fit one of her ear studs into her right ear as Daphne almost trotted from his bedroom door to her own. While she had a change of clothes in his room, she still had to go to her own room to don her makeup and jewellery. It was something all three of his ladies now did when sleeping in his bed.
"Sleep well, Harry?" she asked.
"Yes, actually," he nodded, picking up his satchel, turning about to sit on the couch and checking to ensure Dobby had put the right texts and the like within - as if he wouldn't. "I forgot about the comfort of the bed in my room. It's the same, but different, to the comfort of the beds at your parents' place and The Kennel."
She came over and, now 'installing' the other ear stud, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Me too," she said, taking a seat alongside him. Her satchel was already on her hip.
For Harry, today would be a double of History of Magic with the 'Puffs, a double of Potions with the 'Claws, a single of Runes and a double of DADA with the 'Puffs again.
When Daphne came out she was already fully dressed. And Harry and Hermione rose to greet her. "Ready," she said.
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―==(oIo)==―
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After their usual trick of knocking on the doors of the two other apartments of their group, the now nine of them - with Ernie still in the 'Badgers' Cete' and Fleur at work - headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.
As the Christmas break was only a mid-year break there was no need to wait for new class schedules. So, with Ernie joining them as they walked in, the now ten were able to use that time to talk more about what they had been up to over the previous three weeks. The 'elephant in room', Ernie's now deceased father and why he was at Nott manor, was not mentioned. However, Ernie did speak about his Christmas spent at his grandfather's.
Almost sadly, the boy said, "For almost the entire time, grandfather spoke to me of just how dangerous dark lord's and their ilk are like to everyone. Do you know how many of our important Houses we've lost due to the last two, at least?"
"Even one was one too many, Ernie," said Susan. "But, yes, I know."
"Twenty seven," said the boy with a flat finality. "Twenty seven Houses ranging from Noble and Ancients all the way down to Elder. And that doesn't include the Minor or Magical.
"Grandfather estimated there were another thirty of them at least. After going through what he knew of the ones down to Elder, he didn't want to go any further. He said it was too depressing."
"There was more than that, Ernie," said Harry. "Your grandfather didn't include Houses such as Lestrange, Rookwood, Scabior or Dolohov to name a few. And he didn't include them because there are members of those Houses still alive. However, he should have included them as there are no living members of those Houses who are not currently serving life sentences in Azkaban. As such, there will be no Heir born of them to continue the Houses. And they're in Azkaban because of their involvement with Riddle, which means they're of Houses which will go extinct because of Riddle."
"Shhhhyte!" muttered the other boy.
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―==(oIo)==―
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During lunch Harry finally got a good chance to look around the four House tables and the head table. And, from that, could see that all of those who were students and who'd lost family in the 'Tragedy of Nott Manor', as the Prophet called it, had all returned. For the most, while a few were still a little withdrawn, they had recovered.
He was also using the opportunity to carefully watch, especially, Belby in Ravenclaw and Warrington and Urquhart in Slytherin. All three were now Lords and he wanted to know how all three, now that they'd been elevated to their Lordships, would act within the school.
Of the three Belby and Warrington seemed to be getting filled with their own senses of self-importance, while Urquhart appeared to be trying to 'downplay' the Lordship. All three were now starting to be surrounded by their own developing posses of lickspittles.
'As long as they don't try anything with me or mine... or my friends... they can ponce about to their hearts content,' he thought. 'It's no skin off my nose.'
As well as the three new Lords, he was also keeping an eye on the others in Slytherin House. It was interesting watching the body language of them all, as they were all trying to find their own ways within the new House paradigm.
"What are you focussing on, Harry?" asked Hannah, from the other side of the table.
"I'm watching how the effects of what happened at Nott Manor are impacting the social framework of Slytherin," he replied. He then shrugged, smiled and added, "It's interesting to watch."
Daphne turned to him, cocked an eyebrow and said, "It is, isn't it? It's also happening around Belby in Ravenclaw."
He nodded and said, "Warrington, like Belby, is acting like a peacock. I'm more interested in how Urquhart deals with this. He seems to be taking a more subtle path."
"Or he's in denial," she suggested.
Harry looked back to Urquhart and thought about it for a moment, just watching the young man. "Hmm!" he huffed. "You may be right. It is not something I considered."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
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At his appointment with Bincutty that afternoon, Harry raised the point about watching the Slytherins at lunch and what he and Daphne could determine from their body language.
She asked, "Is that how you get your clues as to the emotional state of who you interact with? Their... as you put it... body language?"
"That; plus their tone when speaking, their facial expressions, whether they're abnormally flushed or pale, that sort of thing," he replied.
She jotted it down and immediately asked, "How are you feeling about returning to Hogwarts?"
"Good!" he firmly replied. "I'm looking forward to getting past my OWLs so I can then get on with earning my NEWTs."
"You're not looking forward to your OWLs?" she pressed.
"No," he replied. "That is, I'm looking forward to them as the next step on my way to earning my NEWTs. But, since earning my NEWTs marks the end of my Hogwarts education, the OWLs are only a step; not a culmination. So, in that vein, I'm looking forward to my OWLs as the completion of the next step."
More notes.
Finally, his hour was up and Harry was free to return to the Potter Apartment. However, as had occurred before the break, both Daphne and Hermione walked in just as the hour was up to walk with him.
As they walked out, Daphne flicked an amused glance at him and asked, "Getting through your supposed issues, Potter?"
"Oh, I don't have issues, Daphne," he smirked back. "I have entire editions!"
Bincutty, who had heard from where she was beginning to rise as the three left the Infirmary, gave a quiet and muffled snort of amusement. Then she sank back into her chair, quickly retrieved her flip pad and wrote the 'one-liner' down. She thought it was actually quite clever.
Some of the things she had him do that day, while talking, was set himself up to draw a picture for her - she'd provided about fifty coloured pencils and actual paper - organise a small child's set of blocks - again, provided by her - plus a few other things. It was the sort of thing she did that she wanted him to do while also answering questions for her.
Harry thought it was so he couldn't focus on his answer and would, therefore, be more likely to offer an honest one. However, she actually wanted to know what he would do with the items she provided while he was distracted with answering her questions.
The coloured pencils were her second test in that series. Harry had sorted them by colour spectrum, excluding the black and greys which he's sorted by tone. He'd started the colours with the darkest of indigo at one end and the deepest of reds at the other. It was a rainbow in coloured pencil form. He hadn't even begun to draw anything when she told him to stop and he never questioned it.
For his final test he'd also organised the blocks but, this time, sorted them by size, rather than colour, as if sorting by colour now bored him.
And all the time he talked either in response to a question or asking the occasional question of his own.
What he'd done had confirmed her hypothesis Harrison James Potter had at least a touch of Autism and or Aspergers Syndrome. He preferred order over chaos, even somewhat fearing chaos. When confronted with chaos, he worked at sorting it into order. He made lists, even if those lists were only in his mind. He thought through problems in a step-by-step logical fashion and saw challenges as simply unsolved problems.
Base emotions, by their very nature, to him were mostly illogical - mostly. He saw the 'biological imperative' that fuels lust. But greed, jealousy, vanity, and others were illogical. Even anger, to him, could be used as a channel to funnel focus upon a problem, or shape the actions of others towards other actions he preferred. However, he also saw it as leading one to rash action, if not controlled. Ron Weasley was, as with most of the others, a good example of that.
She had also learned quite early that Harry felt no loss when it came to one Ron Weasley. As he had said, he knew the boy was not a friend almost from the morning of the first of September back in 1991. As such and as he knew the boy was not a friend, he experienced more of a relief the young man would no longer play a part in his life; could no longer be a threat.
As for the young Mister Nott, he saw his killing of him as a simple matter of self-defence. "It was him or me," he'd stated with a slight shrug. "I can see no choice I could have made that would have resulted in anything but either my or his death. I chose the path that saw to my survival with the greatest chance of success." It was quite the mature response, which showed young Mister Potter had already reasoned out the death and would suffer no psychological damage from it; not now or later.
By rights, that was the last of his need to see a mind-healer about it. However, it was not the end of her need to know how it is that he was able to shrug off most mind magics. The further confirmation of her belief he had, at least, a mild form of Aspergers gave her a solid ground on which to engage in further research.
She would now be approaching the management of the Unspeakables for permission to engage in secondary controlled research into the issue. That meant testing her hypothesis on others who 'suffered' from Aspergers.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
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Back in their apartment, Daphne asked, "If you don't mind answering, has Madam Bincutty given you any clue as to how much longer your sessions will last?"
Harry grinned and said, "You want to know if she's told me what she thinks is wrong with me, if anything."
When she gave a slight shrug and nodded, clearly unembarrassed he'd figured that out, he gave his own half-shrug and replied, "I think she's probably already figured it out, but doesn't want to come right out and tell me. Her expressions when she watched me fiddling with coloured pencils, different shapes of parchment and blocks tells me that. It was like... she had that 'Ah ha!' moment; you know?"
Without waiting for a response he continued, "I could see it written all over her face. Now I think she's trying to figure out something else, or if there's also something else."
Hermione seemed deep in thought and then asked, "Do you remember what you were doing when she had those moments? I ask, because maybe we can also figure out what it is she's figured out."
So, Harry went on to describe what he was doing at the time.
Hermione wrote it down and said, "Thank you, Harry. I think that's going to be a great help."
She thought, 'Now, I just need to get Mum to send me more books on child and adolescent mental health issues.'
She pulled a clean sheet of parchment onto her lap table, mimicking the need to start a new assignment; and quickly wrote her letter to her mother to send with Hedwig. At least with this one she wouldn't need to ask the owl to wait for her mother to send a response.
One of Harry's gifts to her parents for Christmas was their own owl, which had Hermione groan and begin thumping her forehead off the arm of the armchair in which she was sitting at the time. "Stupid... stupid... stupid..." she'd concurrently muttered with each thump.
Now, her parents no longer needed to ask Sirius to deliver any letter they had for Hermione to her. With their own owl, a common barn owl, they could send mail direct.
At the time she was banging her head on the arm because it was such a simple idea she couldn't believe she was that stupid not to have thought of it herself back in first year. She couldn't even bear to look directly at Harry because she knew what his expression directed back to her would be. It would be that somewhat smug amusement he showed when he knew someone had figured out - after gentle coaxing from him or others, of course - they'd been a daft moron.
Her letter to her mother went off that afternoon.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
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