Chapter Text
An hour later the store was open and ticking along nicely. Wednesday was always a quiet day, few customers, but a consistent flow, none the less. Ben was sitting at the counter while I talked to Molly Weasley, whom I’d begun to think of as Aunt Molly, thanks to her push-push-shove-shove method of working her way into someone’s life.
The door to the muggle Road was open and in burst a denim-clad hurricane with brown hair.
“Harry!” The scream barely gave me enough time to brace myself before Portia threw herself at me, sobs wracking her shoulders.
“Portia? Oh, Portia…” I gently wrapped my arms around her, trying to be careful in case she was injured. It had been so long, for me anyway, since we’d left Malfoy manor, that I couldn’t remember exactly how bad her injuries had been. I remembered her arm, but her screams while we were locked in the dungeon? Who knew what they’d done to her.
“Oh, my… Hadrien? Can I help?” Aunt Molly gasped.
I just lifted a hand and Portia flinched.
“Portia? Portia? Easy, Portia, take a breath. That’s it, just breath, calm, calm, breath.” I crooned to her and kept up the nonsense, until she took a deep shuddering breath and looked up at me.
The look of astonishment on her face was amusing and I was glad that both Molly and Ben were positioned where they couldn’t actually see either of our faces. I winked and lifted a hand from her back, conjuring a handkerchief to wipe her face.
“Harry? Wh-”
“Did the snatcher’s grab you?” I asked.
“Ye-yes…” She whispered, dragging her hands from around me, to hug herself.
“Portia? Where’s your wand?” I took hold of her shoulders and pushed her back enough to look her up and down.
“It… it…” She chocked back another sob. “It broke. I had to get away from them… apparated blind… I couldn’t see… landed wrong… mid air… beach… Had to get here…”
“Oh, hell… no wonder you’re all over the place.” I pulled her back into my arms. “Stay here while I sort something.” I looked at Molly. “Thanks Aunt Molly, but Portia’s going to be alright. She’s pretty shaken, who wouldn’t be apparating blind and breaking their wand? I’ll take her upstairs and get her a cup of tea, then once she’s calm, we’ll see about another wand.”
“Are you sure, dear?” Molly fretted.
“Yeah, she’ll be fine once she gets passed the shock.” I assured her. “But I’ll see that a healer checks her over, anyway.”
“Who’re the snatcher’s?” Ben asked.
“Remember the street gangs in Leeds? They tactics were to ‘snatch’ people our age and then either blackmail, beat or drug them in submission. Girls that objected were frequently raped and handed around as toys or traded for favours, the pretty ones ended up in the brothels.” I answered, not actually answering his question. Ben and Molly were both shocked and not a little angry on the girls’ behalf’s. “Yeah The muggle police are always on the lookout for victims of the gangs. So, after she’s had a cuppa, calmed down and found another wand, I’ll take her up north and get the paperwork out of the way.”
“Probably best to take her home, after that.” Ben suggested.
“I’ll get something sorted, but I won’t let anyone push her into something she doesn’t want. Not the police, not her parents, not Ron, not you. Got it?” I let myself growl.
“She’s that important to you?” Ben blinked in surprise.
“Yes, she’s the closest I’ve come to a sister and I won’t let anyone get away with hurting her. If the police can deal with, I’ll let them, but if they can’t, I will… without breaking the Statute.” I added the last bit when I saw both Molly and Ben look worried. “We weren’t taught just magic, you know. Both Ron and I are pretty good in a brawl. And with Mother and Father’s help, I can destroy them legally, too.” I smirked.
Ben shook his head in amusement. “Over time, I let myself forget exactly who you are, then something like this happens and you react like this… and I’m forcibly reminded that you are a Potter.”
“The need to retaliate might be Potter, but the methods? That’s your Prewett blood showing through, Hadrien. I almost feel sorry for the idiots. Did they not know who they hurt?” Molly ended on a question.
“Probably not, but then I haven’t had cause to go after them, so they’d have had no idea, they’d just see what’s in front of them, a pretty girl without bodyguards.” As for the gangs, themselves? Mother had rang the night before and told me that the police up in Leeds had the gang leaders behind bars and were in the middle of a severe crackdown, she suggested that Ron and I stay out of the Leeds area to avoid the possibility of police attention.
“Huh…” Ben quietly exclaimed.
“Yeah, can you run the shop for the day? I’ve no idea how long this is going to take and Mrs Gardener and Mr Wimplesoft are supposed be in to collect the items they asked me to put away.” I faced Ben.
“Of course, lad, you know I will.” The older man answered.
“Would you like me to tell Ron for you?” Molly asked.
“No, thank you, though. He’s on Wizengamot duty today, he told me Moody’s leg is still not responding the way St Mungo's want it to, so he’s off on office rotation until that changes. And as Ron’s assigned to him, whatever duties Moody gets, Ron gets.” I answered. “I won't interrupt him and until he's done for the day, there's nothing he can do, so I'd rather not alarm him.”
“Ugh…” Both Ben and Molly grimaced, just slightly.
“Yep, says it all… Look, I gotta look after Portia. I’ll update you, when I know more, okay?”
I didn’t wait for an answer, I just bundled her into the office and up the stairs, into the main flat. After sitting her at the dining table I quickly put the kettle on and summoned my pensieve. Memory after memory went into it, what happened to me, what happened to Ron, what we’d done, what we’d planned and where we were at right now.
“Here.” I hastily dug up calming draught and slid it across the table. “Drink that and watch that.” I pointed from the draught to the pensieve, ever so glad that time in a pensieve ran at a different speed to outside it. Apparently, the entirety of the memories placed in a pensieve could be watched within the length of time the watcher could hold their breath, the joys of having to submerge your face into a liquid to enter those memories.
“But, Harry…?”
“Watch them. It will explain everything, Portia.” I snorted. “Including why I called you ‘Portia’. Please? Just watch, then I’ll answer any questions you might still have.”
She gave me a confused look, but drank draught and after a few moments her breathing had slowed and she calmly lowered her face to the pensieve. I didn’t wait, I just kept on making the tea, I planned on taking my magical thermos and some sandwiches with us, to Hogwarts.
A minute and a half passed before she lifted her head.
“Oh, god…” She whispered.
“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” I sighed and handed her a mug of tea.
“How did you do this? All of this? By yourself, I mean?”
“Portia, I do have a brain, a very good one, just because I rarely let it be seen, doesn’t mean it’s not there. The alternative? No. I had to get this right. I didn’t have you and Ron, but I did have Mother and Father. And most importantly… I had and still have Hogwarts.” She sipped her tea as I answered.
“But… how can you be sure it worked?”
“I’ve been here for over a year. I’ve been to Gringotts and gotten identity tests. I’ve taken Oaths as Hadrien Blaire Potter-Prewett. I’ve stood in front of the Wizengamot and taken those same Oaths. Oaths to House and Family. I am the Master of House Potter-Prewett, a Cadet-House to Houses Potter and Prewett, both. Ron arrived in the middle of winter, the day before the solstice, in fact. He’s been to Gringotts for identity testing. He’s take Oaths as Ronson Maitland Potter-Prewett. He’s stood in front of the Wizengamot and taken those same Oaths. He’s my Heir, Portia. That’s how I know it worked.”
“Oh…” Her voice was small and timid.
“Now… It’s time to get you sorted out. Ron’s going to go spare if I tell him you’ve arrived and he can’t be here, so I’m going to leave that until we’ve got you established. I’m not going to clean you up, just yet, Ben and Molly think that I’m taking you to the police in Leeds to make a statement. And if you cleaned up before you did that? It would lessen the impact of the severity. But we’re not going to the police, we’re going to Hogwarts.” I explained.
“How will we get in? What about the wards?”
“Ah, right, well, this week is the last week of NEWT exams, so the wards are low, otherwise all the examiners would all have to tramp through Dumbledore’s office and you know he won’t have that. So, we’ll toss my cloak over you and a few overpowered notice-me-not charms at you and just walk in.”
“But what about you?” She tilted her head.
“Portia, I teach there. I’ve only got to say that I want to investigate a possible lead on a new subject for next year and no one will look at me twice.”
“Oh, right.” She nodded a few times, obviously trying to lock into her memory.
“So, you’ve calmed down and had a cuppa. Next is a new wand or two and holsters to match. We’ll apparate to the shack and set up the charms, then I’ll side-along you to the Gates and we’ll walk up to the castle.”
“Will the wards register the notice-me-nots?”
“Possibly, but many of the examiners have been using them to get in and out without the students being aware of them.” I answered.
She took a deep breath. “How do I go about getting a new wand? If there’s a version of me already here, my vine-wood wand will still be at Ollivander’s and won’t he recognise me?”
“Possibly before we get you set up, but not after. I’ve got over a thousand second-hand wands downstairs, one or more of them may choose you. I suggest that after we get you sorted, we test you for wands again. I had to retry, the first wand I found after arriving worked fine, right up until my adoption was complete and then it was reluctant to perform, so I tried again and got the two I’m using now. We tested Ron after his adoption, but the same two wands still chose him. Who knows what might happen for you.”
“If that’s the case, maybe it would be best to wait? Just until I have my new identity?” She suggested.
“If you want, sure we can do that, I just though you might like to be armed before we go anywhere?” I offered.
“I would, but… If a pale coloured wand chooses me now and a darker coloured one chooses me later? Won’t people remember?”
“Huh… didn’t think about that. Hold on…” I hummed and thought for a bit. “Alright, I can cover that. Wait here.” I headed into my room and the mokeskin pouch that Hagrid had given me… and it’s stash of wands for our original time-stream, the two I’d grabbed off the ferret, Bellatrix’s that Dobby gave me and the four that Ron had pulled from his pockets.
Back in the dining area, I laid the seven wands on the table. “Some of these I know who they belonged to, but others? No idea.” I pointed to a rather plain wand. “That was the Amazing Bouncing Ferret’s.” Then to one with a snake head grip. “That’s his Father’s.” To one with a decorative silver grip. “His Mother’s.” To an ugly curved one. “Bellatrix’s.” A wobbly one with a spiralled grip. “Wormtail’s.” Then there were two off to the side. “Those two, I’ve no idea about, Dobby gave them to Ron, shoved them in his pocket as we passed him on the stairs, I think.”
“Oh, Harry.” A look of distaste on her face.
“Portia. Stop. Take a deep breath and think. Those wands are the only options you have, unless you have another wand in you beaded bag or are prepared to enter Hogwarts, completed unarmed.” I challenged her. “Close your eyes, hold out your hand and imagine the perfect wand, think about it being in your hand. Now, without opening your eyes, cast a lumos.”
“Lumos.” She said calmly.
I watched carefully as Bellatrix’s and one of the unknown wands lit up, not brilliantly like I’d expect from a perfect match, but good enough to use.
“Hold the charm and open your eyes, Portia.” Her eyes opened and she gasped at the sight of Bellatrix Lestrange’s lit up for her. “Choose which wand you want. You can take either or both or neither.”
“Not hers, I can’t… not hers.” She replied brokenly.
“It’s your choice, Portia. It’s always your choice.” I said soothingly and her hand reached out jerkily and grasped the other piece of timber. “Now tuck it away, out of sight and when we get downstairs, I’ll tell Ben that you want to wait until you’ve dealt with the paperwork before you go through the wands, that you want to get the muggle stuff over with first. Alright?”
She just nodded.
We reappeared in the shop foyer, just after six o’clock. I nodded to Ben and lead a now calm and collected Portia, over to the wand corner. I was glad I’d asked for the Death-Eater’s wand back, before apparated in, as if I hadn’t she would have had to remove it from wherever she’d hidden it, before she tried to light a new wand, or it would have lit up, too.
“Step into the cleared space, close your eyes and hold out your wand hand. Good. Now imagine holding the most perfect wand ever. Keep your eyes closed and cast a lumos.” It took only a few seconds for wands to light up. Four of them. I quickly removed them from the shelves. “Hold your hand flat, palm up.” When she did that, I laid the four wands all together across her palm. “Now, place you other hand over the top of the wands.” I guided her hand until it lay flat over the wands and her other hand. “Cast lumos, again.” This time I could see the difference. One wand was so close a perfect match that it may as well have been custom made for her, while one of the others was considerably duller. I carefully placed the first wand, the almost perfect wand, on the wand counter and the second wand, the one that was so much duller than the others, went back into the shelves. “Cast, again.” I ordered, watching the two wands in her hands closely. The brighter lit one, I left in her hands, but the other I plucked out and slid back into it’s spot on the shelf.
“You can open your eyes, now, Portia.” I said and grinned when she blinked at me owlishly. “Here we are, your new wands. This one?” I pointed at the one she was holding. “That’s made from the burl of a Carpathian Elm and has a Chinese Fireball Heartstring core.” I picked up the almost perfect match and handed it to her. “This one is Laburnum with a core of Griffon Crown feathers.”
“…oh, wow…” She whispered.
“Come on, over here. Let’s find you a pair of forearm holsters. I did actually see a muggleborn blow the butt out of his trousers, once. Nasty burns to the left buttock. Not letting that happen to you.” I shook a finger under nose.
“Me? Oh, no,I wasn’t the one that shoved their wands in the back pockets, that was you boys.” She objected.
“All done?” Ben called to us from the counter.
We wandered over, me joining Ben and Portia standing at the end of the counter.
“Yeah, for the moment. Portia’s still got to go back up to do her NEWT exams, next week, but that’s next week.” I answered.
“So… you gonna introduce us or not, Harry?” Portia raised an eyebrow.
“I should say no and make you do it yourself… but I won’t. Mr Benjamin William Cartwright is a protected member of House Potter-Prewett. And Miss Portia Alexis Granger the young lady that went through all her schooling with Ron and I, one whom I have invited under the protection of our House and will enact that on the summer solstice. Mr Cartwright, I would have you witness the wards that will be placed to ensure Miss Granger’s virtue and reputation are not negatively impacted upon.” I began casually, but from the moment I began the actual introduction, my manner of address became formal.
“Harry!” Portia exclaimed.
“No.” I stated clearly. “While I have no objection to you staying here and neither do your parents, the Wizarding world does not look favourably on a young lady of genteel breeding, staying with two young men, to whom she is not related. To ensure that censure doesn’t happen, that neither your reputation nor that of my House is impacted, wards will be placed. Wards that will be witnessed.”
“Of course, Master Hadrien.” Ben responded formally, like I’d known he would. “For complete impartiality, might I suggest an un-associated witness?”
“That… that is a sound suggestion, Mr Cartwright. Do you have someone in mind?” I studied Ben, what was he up to?
“Sir, Madam Emmaline Wellaborne is currently in-store, perhaps she might agree to be a witness?” Oh the sneaky old bugger, he wants the biggest gossip in town to know what wards are placed and where. “With your approval, shall I approach her, sir, and extend the request?”
“Do so.” I nodded and Ben left to find the bat that drove me mental with her incessant questions.
“Harry?” Portia asked quietly. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s like this… the Wizarding world is so far behind the muggle one, well over fifty years, right?” She nodded. “So what would your grandmother’s people have said if she’d stayed with two young men?” Her mouth opened in a perfect ‘O’. “Exactly. Now, laying wards and having them witnessed, does two things. One? It says that I and my House consider you to be a young lady of fine breeding and we hold you and your virtue, in high regard. Two? That having a witness to those wards, declares that I and my House have nothing to hide and we accept the scrutiny of our peers in this matter.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah… Oh…” I said nothing more as Ben returned with Madam Wellaborne. “Madam Wellaborne, thank you for joining us.” I gave the tiny bird-like lady a full formal bow.
“Not at all, Master Potter-Prewett, I am honoured to be able to assist.” She dipped the barest of curtsies, but given her age and arthritis, I understood that she had responded as formally as she was capable of.
“May I introduce Miss Portia Granger? Miss Granger is, like myself and my brother Ronson, a squib-born and joined us in our private tuition. Unlike Ronson or myself, Miss Granger has yet to sit her NEWTs, as she has chosen to complete a larger course of study than either of us.” The two women greeted each other politely. “Miss Granger is eighteen and considered an adult in both the muggle and magical worlds and as such her parents feel that she is capable of attending to her own care and have departed on international travel. And under normal circumstances, there would be no reason for outside interference. Unfortunately muggles have altered the circumstances. The street gangs are targeting young people and it’s been less than twenty-four hours since Portia was snatched.” Madam Wellaborne gasped in horror. “We understand that their intent was intimate violence and blackmail, but fortunately they were muggles and didn’t understand what they were dealing with and Portia was able to escape their control before such atrocities could occur. Unfortunately that included being forced to apparate blind.” Another gasp from the elderly lady. “She was lucky, in that one aspect of our training covered just such a scenario and as such was uninjured. Her wand was not so lucky and I’ve just provided assistance to her in the procuring of replacements. I insisted that she be seen by a healer and she was subsequently cleared of injury. But… as the senior ranked member of our group I refuse to let her return to an environment that may endanger her life further and as such have extended to her an invitation to a fully self-contained, single bedroom flat, for as long as she desires.”
“As a gentleman of your standing would.” Madam Wellaborne nodded in understanding.
“Thank you, Madam. But that leaves Miss Granger open to rumour and scandal… and I will not tolerate such a thing, either against her or against my brother and myself.”
“I should think not.” I’d done it! Madam Wellaborne was emotionally invested in Portia and her situation. With her to back us, Portia’s future was going to be scandal and rumour-free.
“To ensure that this does not happen, I will be laying appropriate wards to secure her privacy. As such, I would request an independent witness to the laying of those wards. Would you be willing to be that witness?” I wanted it as clear as I could get it.
“I most certainly would, Master Potter-Prewett.” She responded strongly.
I gave her a soft smile and a bow. “Thank you.”
“When will you be doing this?”
“Immediately. As you can see, Portia’s muggle clothing is in a deplorable condition, thanks to those who attacked her. I would like to see her given the chance to refresh herself and change into clothing more appropriate to her standing as the only daughter of two healers.” I replied. Her adoptive squib father being a muggle doctor while her adoptive mother had been a paramedic, prior to her death ten years ago. Othello Granger was still alive, but had not been in contact with Hermione's father Oberon, since Othello left home at fifteen and had no intention of returning to England from Canada.
“Certainly, sir.” Madam Wellaborne turned from me to Portia. “Miss Granger? Do you have such clothing with you or will you be looking to replace your wardrobe?”
Portia offered her a tiny curtsy before she answered. “I have a very limited wardrobe suitable for daywear in the Wizarding world, Madam, my muggle wardrobe was far larger… until those beasts attacked.” She shuddered convincingly. “I will be keeping very little that passed through their hands and replacing my entire wardrobe.” She shuddered again and gave a half-sob-half whimper. “I couldn’t bear to wear things that have been in their hands.” She wrung her fingers together and looked at the floor.
“Do you think you will feel safe? Alone in a building with two gentlemen?” Madam Wellaborne clearly worried for her.
“Madam, Har-Hadrien has been my best friend since I was eleven, we met before I first commenced my magical education, I see him as the closest I will ever come to having a brother. Knowing that he and Ronson are nearby, I believe I will rest easier, than if they were not.”
“I see. Very well, Miss Granger, Master Potter-Prewett, shall we? The sooner the wards are laid, the sooner Miss Granger can retire to refresh herself. And Miss Granger? I offer myself as a chaperone, if you should ever feel that you have need of such a thing.”
Both Portia and I blinked and gave the lady gestures of respect, a curtsy and a bow, respectively.
“T-thank you, Madam.” Portia stuttered.
“Indeed, Madam Wellaborne, such an offer is extraordinarily generous. I mean no insult when I say that I sincerely hope that Portia need not ever call upon you.” I stated.
“As do I, Master Potter-Prewett, as do I. But regardless, the offer stands.” She turned to the hallway. “Shall we?”
“We shall, this way if you please?” I gestured to the office and once inside I hit the switch on the wall that looked like a second light switch, but it was the controller for illusion charm that hid the stairs to the upper floor.
Twenty five minutes later, Madam Wellaborne nodded.
“Very nicely done, Master Potter-Prewett. Your giving control of the wards to the smaller flat to Miss Granger is very considerate, but are you sure that my being notified if any changes take place, is a good thing?” Portia had thanked Madam Wellaborne and retreated to the bathroom in the smaller flat, while I escorted the elderly lady back downstairs.
“I do believe so, Madam, having someone un-associated be notified of a change in the wards, will ensure that no one can claim that they’ve been tampered with and I can think of no one better than the Lady that witnessed the laying of those wards. I have high hopes that my brother may remove his head from an unmentionable orifice and ask Miss Granger to wed. At which point, chaperonage wards, those I laid today, would need an external monitor. At present those wards are laid but not activated, if and when Ronson gets his act together, I will activate those wards and transfer the alerts over to Lady Muriel, but for now, if you do not mind, I would prefer not to have her pressuring him. Ronson tends to get stubborn under pressure. I’m told it’s both a Potter thing and a Prewett thing and we got a double dose of it.” I replied.
“Ah… in that case, I have no objection at all. But have you notified Ronson of the circumstances of Miss Granger’s arrival?”
“No and while he’s on duty at the Wizengamot, I’ll not disturb him. I’d prefer to wait until he’s home, where he can rant and rave.”
“Ah… yes… I recall your uncles and their tempers.” She smiled fondly.
“It’s in our blood.” I agreed, as we reached shop floor. “Again, Madam Wellaborne, I thank you for your assistance. I would be much obliged if you would accept a gift, as thanks from my House, for your assistance and offers.”
“Oh, that isn’t necessary.” She was flustered.
“Perhaps not, but I would still be pleased if you would accept. I know you were looking at that Royal Albert tea set…” I trailed off, trying to tempt her. I saw Ben tilt his head in question and when I nodded in response, he summoned the tea set to the counter and began to wrap each piece.
“Oh, oh I should say ‘no’, but it’s such a pretty design…” I could see the sheer ‘want’ on her face.
“It’s also quite rare. From my enquiries, I’ve determined that it was made for only three years, 1905 1906 and 1907, at least in that particular colouration. I’ll have Mr Cartwright pack them up for you and escort you home, if you like?”
“Oh… thank you, but I’m actually heading for London this evening to meet up with my sister and her daughter. I’ll not say ‘no’ to the tea set, though, it such a pretty thing. And might I use your floo?”
“Most certainly. Ben?”
“Aye, I’ve packed the set into a box and shrunk it, a simple ‘finite’ will cancel that, for you.” Ben offered the matchbox sized box to Madam Wellaborne and offered her his arm. “If I may, I suggest we leave Hadrien to his office, he’s got the day’s books to do and he still needs to notify Ron, of Portia’s arrival.” That was an unsubtle dig, ‘do it’.
Which, after waiting for them to leave the office, I did. “Nuntio expecto.” The flames grew. “Message to my brother Ron, deliver once the Wizengamot session had ended and he’s in the atrium headed for the public floo’s. Message… Hey…? Portia’s here. The snatchers up in Leeds had her for a few hours, they roughed her up, she’s shaken but not hurt, I took her back up north to get the legal stuff out of the way, but that’s done. I’ve put her in the small flat and got Madam Wellaborne to witness the wards, as I want Portia to feel safe after the snatchers and what she went through at their hands. Muggle and magical healers have seen her and they’re happy that she needs no further treatment, but the muggles do suggest that she find a counsellor to talk to. Something for her to think about. In the mean time, she’s getting cleaned up and I’ll see to dinner, probably soup or pasta, so there’ll be plenty when you get home. See you when you get here…” A flick and the flames vanished.
Once the flames left, turned my attention to the day’s ledger… only to find that Ben had completed it for me. All I had left to do was to retrieve out the day’s takings and deposit them in the vault-linked pouch and activate it, sending the coins directly into the shop’s vault at Gringotts.
Portia curled up on the lounge, wrapped in a huge fluffy blanket. I sat opposite her and made notes in my journal. Together we waited.
The crack of apparition filtered up from downstairs followed closely by the thunder of Ron’s feet as he pounded up the stairs.
“Ron!” Portia was up and running in his direction before he’d even entered the flat.
“Portia.” His arms closed around her and he hung on as she sobbed.
I let them have their moment together, knowing that sooner or later one of them would look up at me and that would be my cue to join them. And eventually, that’s what happened. Ron looked over at me and gave a tiny jerk of his head and mouthed words at me. ‘Get over here, bro.’ Stood and walked over to them and wrapped my arms around them both, and just like that… everything was right in our world.
~~~~~
“The house, elf and contents for ʛ100.” Sirius offered.
“I’d ask if you were serious, but the Sirius/serious line has been done and either way, I know you’re both.” I huffed. “Alright, but are you sure about the elf?”
“Kreacher will never accept me, it’s better for him and me if he’s gone.” Sirius sighed. “I haven’t done right by him, but I think it’s too late to try.”
I shook my head, it was never too late to try, succeeding was another thing. “Give me ten minutes alone with him and we’ll see what happens.” I said walking out of the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place.
Ten minutes later, Sirius was shaking his head in amazement. Kreacher was standing in front of him with a look of almost awe on his wrinkly old face as he looked at Sirius.
But Ron was the one that started laughing. Almost as soon as he’d walked in the door.
“Let me guess, Sirius said Kreacher hates him and Harry said ‘give me five minutes’ and this is the result?” Ron tried to smother his laughter at Sirius.
“Ten minutes.” Remus said.
“Ten? You’re slipping, bro.” Ron smacked me on the shoulder.
“Hardly. I had to convince Kreacher that Sirius was not only what I said he was, but that Sirius would treat Kreacher properly.” I answered absently, hunting in the cupboard for a tin of tea, ignoring the looks of dumbfounded amazement directed at me.
“What? Harry’s as much a Potter as little-Harry. Did you forget what Potters can do?” Ron huffed.
“Huh… apparently Potters can work miracles.” Sirius was staring at the elf, who was in turn staring at Sirius.
~~~~~
“Let me watch it by myself the first time, Sirius. I don’t particularly want to start translating and fumble it because Uncle Jimmy was swearing at you all the way.” I laughed. “I don’t think either Professor McGonagall or the Headmaster would approve.”
“Uh… yeah… sure… that’s a good idea.” Sirius’ widened.
I dipped my head into the pensieve and let the blue/grey light surround me. When it settled, I was in a familiar place. Hogwarts. In Gargoyle Corridor that housed the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. As I watched I saw a scared, but angry Severus Snape stalk around the corned to the second floor corridor. A noise off to one side of me caught my attention and I turned towards it.
In front of me was a scared looking James Potter and a smirking Sirius Black.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” James screamed Sirius.
“Snivellus-” Sirius started.
“I don’t give a shit about Snivellus! What about Moony?!”
“Moony? Moony’s fine, he’s-”
“If I hadn’t stopped Snivellus, he’d have found Moony.”
“So… do the-”
“If he’d found Moony, it’s a good chance that Moony might have attacked him!”
“Good. Serves him right. I don’t-”
James grabbed the front of Sirius’ robes and slammed him into the wall, between a pair of windows.
“If… Moony… had… attacked… Ssnape… the Minisstry… would… have… exsecuted… Moony…” James hissed. I could hear the hints of parseltongue in James' voice.
“But…”
“Moony iss a werewolf, you idiot!” James’ voice was hard and cold. “Any werewolf attacking a witch or wiszard iss immediately exsecuted.” James slammed Sirius against the wall again. “If you want to kill our friend, at leasst have the gutss to do it yoursself!” James turned away from a Sirius that was beginning to understand what he’d done.
“But… they won’t, will they? The Headmaster won’t let them, will he?” Sirius fretted.
“Godss. I hope not, but…”
“If they do… it’s my fault…” Sirius whimpered.
“Yess, it iss.” James snapped, before continuing in parseltongue. :§: Sstupid, godss-be-damned bloody Blackss. Jealouss frigging idiot. How the Hell doess he exspect thiss to be brushed off? Shit! Dad’ss gonna hit the flipping roof. Missserable twat! Goddamn it, Padfoot, thiss iss sso wrong. If Moony iss exscuted becausse of you, I’ll sskin you mysself, I’ll casstrate you, I’ll ssicc Lily onto you. No, I’ll tell McGonagall you put catnip in her sslippers and Ssprout that you trimmed her Devil’ss ssnare. You irressponssible bloody mutt… :§: James continued to swear in parseltongue all the way from the second floor, up through the grand tower staircase to the seventh floor and the Fat Lady’s portrait came into sight. :§:Lissten to me, Ssirius Black. You better hope and bloody pray, that Ssnivellus doessn’t tell anyone what happened tonight, otherwisse Moony’ss dead and your Mother iss going to be ecsstatic that you’re finally acting like a Sslytherin! :§: James stalked up to the painting and snapped the password “Pumpernickel toasst” in heavily parseltongue-accented English and stepped through the door behind the painting and into the common room.
Sirius stood there for a good five minutes, the expression on his face conflicted. Just as he decided on a course of action, someone called his name. Sirius looked down the corridor as a younger boy peeked around the corner.
“Sirius! Sirius!” A loud whisper came in a voice that Sirius hadn’t heard speak to him in almost a year.
“Regulus? What are you doing up here?” Sirius asked.
“I saw Snape heading back to our common room, he looked scared, Siri, real scared, like pulling out of Hogwarts scared. What happened?” The boy was obviously Sirius’ younger brother, the one that defied Voldy and tried to destroy the locket.
“Nothing, Reg, James stepped in before it could happen, but it was close. Too close… and it would have been my fault.” Sirius let his tears fall and was stunned when his brother hesitantly came and wrapped his arms around the older boy. “I did something bad, something Mother would probably praise me for, but it almost got one boy k-killed and if h-he h-had, someone else would have died too. And it’s my fault.” Sirius cried, his tears falls fast.
“But it didn’t, did it? Potter stopped it?”
“Yeah…” Sirius nodded.
“Then you apologise and get passed it.”
“I don’t know that I can, Reggie.”
“You don’t have much of a choice, Siri. If you don’t apologise, people will blame you, whether you blame yourself doesn’t matter, other people will do it. Apologise and let the others get passed it, too.”
“Okay…” Sirius sighed.
“So, um… was it just me or…. Did Potter sound he was hissing?” Regulus asked, a confused look on his face.
Sirius blinked. “He did, didn’t he?”
The grey faded as I was ejected from the pensieve.
“Wow…” I whispered.
“What?” Sirius asked, almost frantic. “What’d he say?”
“Trust me, you do not want me to repeat that word for word. I never knew Uncle Jimmy was so… creative when it came to threats.” I was still whispering.
“What?” Remus asked. “What did he want to do?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” I asked them.
The last two Marauders looked at each other and had a silent conversation, before both sighed.
“Yeah, tell us.” Sirius muttered.
“How bad can it be?” Remus added.
I choked off a laugh. “Bad. It started off with cussing at the Blacks in general, then there something about grandfather hitting the roof. Then it degenerated into name calling and threats. If Moony had been executed, like he was panicked was going to happen? Your life would have been hell. He was going skin you, castrate you, sic Aunt Lily on you, then tell McGonagall that you were the one to put catnip in her slippers and Sprout that you trimmed her Devil’s snare.” I watched as Sirius got more and more alarmed as I went on. “But that last bit? Just near the common room?” I hesitated.
“Yeah…?” Sirius whined.
“He said that you’d better hope and pray that Snape didn’t tell anyone what happened, because if he did, Moony was dead and your Mother would be ecstatic that you were finally acting like a Slytherin.” I grimaced as I said it.
“Ooh… Ouch…” Remus wheezed.
“Eh, she would have, too, the bitch.” Sirius grunted. “And yeah, I can see James saying something like that.” He turned to Snape, who’d joined us in the Headmaster’s office, as we used his pensieve. “Uh… again…? Um, sorry…?” Sirius’ expression was one of self-disgust. “I was wrong, very wrong. Lils was your friend and… I don’t know… You were just so much like Reggie, so much like Mother was forcing me to be and I…” He hung his head. “I couldn’t cope, you were the perfect Slytherin and I felt like I was a poor excuse of a Gryffindor.” He looked up at Snape. “Sorry…”
“Apology accepted.” Snape’s voice was quiet and slightly rattled, it was obvious that hearing that James Potter had had not only threatened one of his own but was also a parseltongue, a trait of Slytherin, had shaken the potions apprentice.
~~~~~
“Do you think Dobby will ever-” a crack cut Portia’s question in half.
“Finally, Harry Potter or his Grangy or Wheezy is saying Dobby’s name. Finally Dobby cans finds his Harry Potter and friends.” A battered and very young elf squeaked.
“Dobby?!” The three of us yelled, in joy.
“Oh, Dobby!” I dropped to my knees and flung my arms around the elf.
“Mister Harry Potter, sir.” Dobby clung to me as well. “What has happened? Dobby was taking Harry Potter, his Grangy Wheezy and a gobby-lin away from the Bad Masters and then suddenly Dobby was an elfling again.”
“Oh, Dobby. The Malfoys? Did they hurt you?” Portia asked, turning the-even-tinier-than-I-remember elf around to check for injuries.
“No, Miss Grangy. Dobby’s body mights be little again, buts Dobby’s head’s remembering that Dobby is a free elf and has no master.” His bat-like ears fell. “But Dobby knows that Bad Masters will try and get Dobby back and unless Dobby has a master, Dobby will have to go.”
“What? Why?” Ron asked.
“Dobby’s body is not full growed and to survive their coming of age an elfs must be bound to a master or our magic is being too unstable to control.”
“So, why would you have to go back to the Malfoys?” Portia asked before I could.
“Cause they was Dobby’s training masters, the training bond to them is broken, but the pieces are still there, but if Dobby goes back he will never get away again.” He broke down in tears, sobs wracking his little body.
“Stop, Dobby, stop.” Portia held him tightly against her, who knew if he’d try to punish himself for telling us. She looked at me. “He’s always been fanatically loyal to you. You bind him to you. Keep him free of the Malfoys. Do it, now.” She snapped the last word.
“Dobby? Do you… I can… if you want…” I didn’t know how to say it.
Dobby leapt from Portia to me. “Yes! Oh, Yes! Please, yes! Dobby wants to belong to Harry Potter, sir. Please?” The last word was almost pleading.
“You got it, buddy. Tell me how.” I said. "What do I need to do?”
“You’s is putting your hand on Dobby’s head and saying that you’s will have Dobby fors your house-elf and Dobby wills then be taking your hand and saying that Dobby wills be taking you for his wizard.” I was told.
I looked at him. “Okay, but… first some information and some ground rules.”
“Rules, Harry Potter, sir?”
“Rules. But information first. You were taking us away from Malfoy manor, remember?” I waited until he nodded. “Then things went… strange… when you next opened your eyes, you were as you are now, am I right?” Another lot of nodding. “I arrived first and I went to Hogwarts. Lady Hogwarts herself helped me. She told me that you were hit by Bellatrix’s knife as you shattered the manor’s anti-apparition wards.” More nodding. “And because Por-Hemione and the goblin were already injured, the shattering of those wards, bolstered by the unstable magic of three different species of beings all wanting the same thing, caused something really, really rare to happen. The five of us were thrown into a different time-stream, another world that runs alongside ours, but one in which some people have made different choices and those choices are making a different future. Got it, so far?” More nodding. “Right, this is where it starts to get complicated. The aftershocks of the manors wards shattering and the void left behind when we were thrown out of that time-stream… it’s gone. Just gone, not ended, not collapsed. Just gone. Hogwarts, the Tower of London and the Ministry Building can’t find any trace that it ever existed. It’s like other than the five of us, it was completely erased.”
“Gone? Bad Masters are gone? But Dobby sawed them?”
“No, the Bad Master from that time-stream are gone. The ones from this time-stream, they’re still here.” Ron answered him.
“Oh…. What does that mean, now? For Dobby?”
“I arrived here two years ago, now. I looked exactly the same as when you saw me last. I didn’t get younger, Lady Hogwarts says that Lady magic took us and brought us here, so that we weren’t lost, like everyone else from our time-stream, but because there were already a Harry Potter, a Hermione Granger and a Ron Weasley here and they were so much younger than us, She didn’t want to overwrite the existing ones, it would draw too much attention. And She knew that time-stream ‘jumpers’ are usually very obvious, obvious enough that the Ministry has to take action and track them down, they get taken to the Department of Mysteries and they never come out alive.”
“No one takes Dobby’s Harry Potter or Grangy or Wheezy! Not with Dobby to protect them!” Dobby’s face was twisted and angry and he leapt from my grasp to stand away from us, clearly ready to defend us.
“Exactly how Hogwarts felt, too.” I watched Dobby’s anger slowly subside as I continued. “And that’s why Hogwarts decided to help us. She saw to it that we got new names and new lives. I am still Harry, but… Gringotts did my identity test and according to them, I am Hadrien Blaire Potter-Prewett. My friends still call me Harry, though. Ron is still Ron, but his full name is now Ronson Maitland Potter-Prewett and he’s my brother. You can’t call him my Wheezy anymore, so we’ll have to come up with something else. Hermione has a new name, she is now Portia Alexis Granger, so you calling her Miss Grangy is still fine. Like I said, there’s a Harry Potter here, he’s almost six years old, if you want you can bond with him.”
“But, you is my Harry Potter, sir. You is the one that freed me, you is the one that gived me socks, you is my Harry Potter… Prewett?”
“Harry Potter-Prewett. Yes.”
“Good. If little Harry Potter sir wants an elf, we’s will find him one, but I’s belong to my Harry Potter-Prewett, sir.” Dobby nodded sharply. That was that.
“Alright. So… the rules…”
“Rules?” Dobby asked.
“Rules. One.” I held up my hand and raised a finger. “No punishing yourself. If you think you’ve done something that warrants punishment, you bring the matter to me and I’ll see to your punishment. But no punishment will cause injury, I’m more likely to tell you that you have to go sit for an hour while someone else does your job. Two. A uniform. It is not clothes, it is a uniform, it does not belong to you, it belongs to the House of Potter-Prewett. Even if I give you clothes, it is not my intention to free you, that will require a discussion and your agreement, you cannot be free without your agreement. If you want to be freed, all you need to do is ask. I want you to be happy, Dobby. If that means you’re bound to me, fine by me. If that means you’re free, that’s fine by me, too. It will always be your choice. Three. You will have an allowance. That is not for debate, but I will negotiate the amount. Four. Time out. You need to have down time where your body can rest. You cannot look after us if you don’t look after yourself, too. Like the allowance, we’ll negotiate that. Five. Other elves. You will always be my first elf. If you hear of another free elf that is unhappy being free, bring them to us, we may not bond with them ourselves, but we will help them to find someone they like. Six. Talk to me. If you’re worried about something, tell me. If you can’t give me details, because that might hurt another elf, tell me that and tell me what you can. If you can’t wait and I’m in class, talk to Portia, Ron, Sirius Black or Remus Lupin. All of them know what’s happened.” I lowered my hands. “Do you agree to my rules?”
Dobby’s eyes were wide, excited, more so than was normal for him.
“Yes, Master.”
“Oops, I should have added another rule. Seven. Titles. In private, with Ron and Portia, I would like you to call me Harry, just Harry. With Sirius, Remus, little-Harry… or Rachel and Webster Potter… make it something like mister Harry. In public, it needs to be something along the lines of Master Potter-Prewett. I have a shop here that I run, Tuesdays through to Saturdays and on Sunday afternoons and Mondays I teach a class at Hogwarts.”
Due to the WEA and the Wizengamot members listening to their children or grandchildren, my little class had developed into a fully recognised class, with exams that now counted towards their NEWTs, but only the NEWTs. Sundays was still my little class, now it was only for the juniors, while Mondays were for sixth and seventh years. Thank heavens for Portia who had finished her NEWTs and was now seneschal to our House, but not just our House, she was now seneschal for Houses Potter and Black, as well. After the death of Lord Arcturus Black and Sirius’ Mother, his ascension to the position was not something he was looking forward to, so when I suggested that Portia needed to be kept busy, but in a condescending way, he jumped at offering her the post. He did warn her, though, that the entire estate was in a mess, as Walburga had been doing everything she could to destroy it, before it was left to Sirius.
“Oh, no, Dobby can’t be doing that, that is being rude. Dobby will call his master, Master Harry, when it’s just family and friends, other wise Dobby will call Master Harry, Master Potter-Prewett.” Came the instant objection.
I looked at a snickering Ron and a Portia who was trying to smother her own snickers. “Fair enough. What about these two?”
“With family and friends, Dobby will call them Mister Ronson and Miss Portia. For everyone else, Dobby with call them Mister Potter-Prewett and Miss Grangy.”
“Uh…?” Ron held up a hand.
“Ron?” I asked.
“Yeah. Might wanna change that. This morning…? I asked Portia to marry me… and she said ‘yes’… so…?”
I blinked and shook my head, these two…? They didn’t even bother with dating they just jumped straight to marriage. Bloody Gryffindors.
“Alright. Until the wedding, you’re Miss Portia and Miss Grangy, after the wedding…? Dobby? How does Mrs Portia and Mrs Potter-Prewett sound?”
“Mrs Portia and Mrs Ronson Potter-Prewett.” Portia suggested. “We don’t want anyone to be confused.”
“Dobby can be doing that.” Dobby nodded.
“Alright… anything else? Or can we do this binding?” I asked, suddenly impatient. I’d had an idea and I wanted to get it started.
I was answered by head shakes, so I stood and held out a hand, just at the right height for Dobby to stand under. He stepped away from Portia and towards me, his forehead resting against my palm.
“I, Hadrien Blaire Potter-Prewett, Master of House Potter-Prewett, do willingly take this house-elf, known as Dobby, into my dominion. He shall be the first elf to my House. As I say, so do I swear.” A soft blue light surrounded us as Dobby reached up and grasped my wrist.
“I, Dobby elf, willingly take Master Hadrien Potter-Prewett as my master, I’s will be the first elf to his House. So it will be.” The blue light flashed from pale to deep and rich, before fading away and leaving the light around us sparkling with magic.
“Great.” I dug into my pocket and pulled out a coin purse holding a handful of ʛalleons. “I want you to get yourself something to wear as a uniform, your choice, you have to wear it. I don’t care where you have to go to get it, if you’re not comfortable in it, don’t get it.” I handed the purse over. “Oh and one last thing…?” I waited until Dobby was looking me in the eye. “How would you like to help me ruin the Bad Masters?”
The vicious grin on Dobby’s face answer enough.
~~~~~
“Nuntio expecto.” The flames grew. “Message to Sirius Black, at home, family only present. Message… Hey, Sirius. How do you feel about ruining the Malfoys and reminding them that the Potters and the Blacks were here well before they wandered in with the Norman invaders?” I flicked my wand and the Messenger departed.
~~~~~
“Good morning, Snaprok.” I greeted my account manager, brightly.
“Hadrien. What’ve you got this time?” Snaprok sighed.
I simply pulled a shrunken trunk from my pocket and placed it on the table.
“You know this is only going to fuel Shatteraxe’s vendetta to claim you for his clan, don’t you?”
“Yep. But like I told the director in my letter, until the manipulative little shit makes a better offer than he’s done, he can shove it up his breastplate.” I smirked. “He has to better my position and…?”
“And that would mean he would have to stand down as Head of the clan.” Snaprok nodded. “But you do know he’s not going to give up that easily?”
“Of course. Where’s the fun in that?” My smirk only grew.
“Alright, I’ll get this to him for assessment.” He slid the trunk to the side of the desk. “There is another matter that has risen, that Gringotts are hoping you can assist with.”
“Oh?” Another matter? And they thought I could help?
“Yes, one of our customer-guides collapsed this morning and the only thing we get make out from his ramblings is ‘Harry Pott’, but we’re uncertain whether that was the complete name and the description does not fit young Mr Potter. Any ideas?”
“Ah… yeah… I’ll need to talk to someone… it’s a delicate situation… involving time-stream jumpers and a time-stream collapse.” How the hell was I going to do this?
Snaprok looked at me, it took him a few seconds, but eventually he reached out and pulled a tasselled bell-pull that hung beside his desk. A few moments passed and an elderly goblin came in and sat down behind snaprok.
“You don’t need to know his name, Hadrien, but we would appreciate anything you might be able to tell us.” Snaprok assured me.
“Right.” I sighed, I had to do an edited version of the truth. I wouldn’t lie to the goblins, I would be absolutely truthful, but I had to tell them the truth as it was now. “It all started with my brother and I in a dungeon…”
“So… the prophecy in your original time-stream was different to here?” The elder goblin asked, speaking for the first time.
“I don’t know. I don’t know the particulars of the prophecy here.” I hedged.
“And everything you’ve told us is true?”
“I, Hadrien Blaire Potter-Prewett, Master of House Potter-Prewett, swear that since entering this room, today, I have told only the truth. As I say, so do I swear.” I was surrounded by a golden/white light.
“Thank you, Master Potter-Prewett. Our goblin is… damaged and our healers and curse-breakers say that the damage has been caused by Lady Magic, Herself. Either Griphook did something that went against the stipulations of Lady Magic or he intended to do so. The healers believe it would be better for him, if we were to wipe his memory of the last ten years and let him start again. Having heard your testimony, I would agree, however I will suggest removing the last twenty years, just to be absolutely certain. Then I will see that he is retrained in a different field, I will not put him where the temptation to re-offend may occur.”
“Sir, he is your goblin, I… I have no rights to your goblins and without intending offence, I don’t want them. I would ask that he receive assistance, but you have already stated that he will, so all I can say is… Gringotts is the domain of the director and if the director is content with what will happen to Griphook, then I most definitely have no complaints.” I assure the older goblin.
“And yet you deny Shatteraxe’s request to name you a member of his clan?”
“Ah, now that I will deny. The rotten beggar has yet to raise the subject directly with me, the closest he’s got was the first day we met, he swore at me in gobbledegook and told Snaprok to get me out of the room before he decided he was adopting me.” I explained.
“He’s said nothing else to you?”
“Not to me, but I understand that he’s presented a number of petitions, but until he has the common decency to speak to me, directly, and actually ask…? No, he can take his adoption and shove up his breastplate.” I said for the second time that day.
The old goblin laughed, leaving a slightly worried looking Snaprok. “I can see why he likes you, but your comments are well thought and correct. I will see that his petitions continue to fail, until he presents a petition that bears your approval, Master Potter-Prewett.” He stood and moved to the door. “Good day to you sir, be it known that you and your House are valued clients of Gringotts and we shall maintain your confidentiality.” He dipped his head to me and was gone.
I looked back to Snaprok and was faced with a shaken goblin.
“Snaprok?”
“That was the director… he spoke to you, directly to you…”
Blast this bloody Potter Luck.
~~~~~
Epilogue
Six years to the day, after my arrival in this time-stream I stood on the beach where I’d first appeared. I sighed and let my shoulders fall. So many changes had happened since that first day.
I had parents, albeit distance ones. A brother that was everything I had ever thought a brother should be. A sister in his wife, that was everything a sister should be. I had friends, Sirius, Remus, Bill, Ben and strangely enough, I think I could almost call Snape a friend, if I didn’t say it to his face, anyway.
I had a shop, one that was quite popular and did a nice trade. A second shop that opened only during Hogwarts’ school holidays, where students or their parents could come and get everything they needed for Hogwarts, all under one roof. All the shops that carried student supplies had their stalls there and some even staffed them for themselves, but most were happy to supply the stock leave the rest to my staff, which consisted of mostly newly graduated seventh years. We were even looking to have a small shop within Hogwarts, itself. Not being able to go to Hogsmeade made restocking inks and parchments difficult for younger students.
I had a job as a teacher at Hogwarts and fifth year notwithstanding, that is something I never expected to have. I enjoyed my time with juniors, but it was the seniors that I was most proud of, so many of them moved out into the world without struggling, without being dependent on others, without turning to a life of crime.
With Portia and Ron’s wedding on the winter solstice after Portia's arrival and being told just last night that they were expecting a baby, the line of succession for my House was secure. Sirius had listened to their news and shrugged, then told us that he and Emmeline Vance were going to marry before the end of the year. Remus sighed and said that Andromeda Tonks had approached he and Sirius in regards to a contract between Remus and their daughter Nymphadora. How Ron, Portia and I, didn’t laugh, I don’t know.
And now I could start to focus on myself.
“Harry?” A woman’s voice called from a few yards away.
“Coming, dear.” I turned from the beach towards the stunning blonde holding her hand out to me. It was time to start living for myself.