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Harry Potter and the Paradigm Shift
Chapter 11
By Kinsfire
The group of seven travellers stepped off the plane in Edinburgh after a particularly long flight from New York. It had been a chartered jet, so they were met almost immediately by a limousine, which quickly took them to a nearby hotel, where they promptly collapsed into sleep in their rooms.
Upon awakening a few hours later, Harry looked at the clock and realized that he had no idea of the time of day. It read 8:03, but had no indicator for morning or evening. There was sunlight showing in the gap at the bottom of the drawn curtains, but at this time of year the sun rose early and set late in Scotland, so that didn’t tell him anything, either. He shook his head and climbed carefully from the bed, not wanting to awaken Tonks. He felt his heart swell in his chest as he looked at the sleeping woman, and he fought with himself to keep from climbing back into bed and kissing her thoroughly. He grabbed his watch from the nightstand and smiled. "Damn," he whispered. "Eight p.m. We’ve been asleep for a while. At least it wasn’t eight a.m. I’d hate to find out we’d been asleep for almost a day." He shook his head to clear it and staggered off to the loo. After indulging in a long hot Silence Charmed shower, he was feeling much more human. Tonks was beginning to wake up, so he kissed her thoroughly, dressed, and took a certain sadistic pleasure in going down the hall and rousting the others out of their respective beds. "Time to give Remus a call, and hope that he’s still carrying that mirror around." Fortified with cups of appropriate hot caffeinated beverages, they gathered in the sitting room of Harry and Tonks’ suite, where he produced the mirror that Sirius had given him for Christmas four and a half years ago. He and Sirius had fixed it in case they needed a secure method of getting in touch with Remus. That time was now.
"Remus Lupin," he said firmly into the mirror. He chuckled as he imagined the other mirror sitting in a drawer at whatever flat Remus was staying. Since the thing vibrated to let the recipient of the message know that a message was coming in, Harry could just see Remus’s reaction to his nightstand beginning to vibrate.
Much more quickly than Harry expected, Remus’ face appeared in the mirror, concerned and suspicious at first, but moments later breaking into a wide grin. "Harry! How are … wait, prove to me that you’re Harry." The face went from a grin to a scowl.
Harry thought for a moment before grinning impudently into the mirror. "The offspring of Mr. Prongs requests that Mr. Moony keep his abnormally furry snout out of other people’s business."
Remus’s grin returned. "Harry, where are you?"
"Are you alone?" At Remus’s nod, he said, "Apparate to the Aberdeen Apparation point. I’ll be there before you will. If I even think I smell an Auror in the vicinity, I’ll be gone for good. Understood?"
"I’ll be there in a few minutes, Harry." The mirror went blank again.
"We’re in Edinburgh," Ron said.
"He’s trying to think a step ahead of whoever might still be around looking for him," Sirius replied. "Four years should have stopped the majority of the chase, but I can still imagine that Dumbledore would like to get his hands on the boy. So he tells Remus to go to a different city, and then does the Apparation from there." Harry nodded with a grin, and Disapparated.
He hadn’t been waiting near the Aberdeen point very long when Remus arrived and swept him into a hug. "It’s been a long time, Harry. How are you doing?"
"Pretty good, Remus," Harry replied as he ran his wand over the werewolf. "Good, no tracking spells that I can detect. Shall we head to the hotel? I have something of a surprise for you there." When Remus nodded, Harry took his hand and Apparated them back to the hotel.
At least, he thought it was the hotel … When he appeared, the room looked to be a Sultan’s bedroom, and all the women ensconced within were in diaphanous harem costumes. Even Moira?!? Harry thought numbly. Damn! He looked around. "As enjoyable as this view is, ladies, is it safe to assume who set it up?"
"That it certainly would be," came an all too familiar voice to Harry.
Remus spun, eyes wide. "Si … Sirius?" he almost whispered before he fainted.
#####
Remus Lupin awoke on a bed to find three familiar young ladies, and a fourth he did not know, all still in highly revealing clothing, looking down at him in a mixture of amusement and concern. Their faces lost the concern once they were sure that he was awake. "He’s back," Hermione said.
"I have to admit, Miss Granger, that I could not have imagined the young student I taught being secure enough to wear such an outfit," he said.
"Nice to look at, though, isn’t it?" she asked impudently, causing his eyebrows to rise.
"I think I like the change in you. Much more self assured." He started to sit up.
"Comes from knowing that you’re loved," she replied.
"As you are," came a voice that Remus thought he’d never hear again. "It’s good to see you again, Moony."
Remus looked over at the speaker, and couldn’t believe his eyes. It was the Sirius of years ago — a lean, trim man, but not the gaunt spectre of five years ago. "How … how do I know that it’s really you?" Remus asked.
"If Harry had been born a girl, he would have been named Melody," Sirius said quietly.
Remus was off the bed in an instant, his arms around Sirius. "Oh my God, how did … what …"
"Blame me," Moira said. "I did the séance, Harry did the summoning, and some others did the actual pulling through."
"Let’s not forget the little Chinese man who said ‘Dorf’," Harry added with a laugh.
"We obviously have a lot to catch up on," Remus said, still a little light-headed.
Harry grinned. "And now you know the reason for the third suite, Sirius. No sense worrying about kicking anyone out of anywhere — just take it to that suite."
Remus looked to Harry. "Just what are you saying, Harry?"
"That it's been four years since you last saw your lover, and you'd probably like to welcome him back in the best way possible."
"How long have you known?" he asked, just a little white.
"Long enough. You'll note, Remus, that I invited you here, and even set up a separate suite for you? I have no problems with it. Now go. You two have a lot of time to catch up on. We'll all talk tomorrow." He turned to Moira. "You're welcome to stay in here if you want, if you've gotten used to the company."
"You putting the moves on my girlfriend again?" Sirius laughed.
"Considering she could hospitalise me if I tried anything? You figure out the answer for yourself," Harry laughed. "I'll look if she lets me, though," he finished, wiggling his eyebrows lasciviously. "Besides, if I tried to touch, assuming she let me live, the other ladies would be forced to remove something they still seem to have some use for."
"We would not," Ginny said in an offended voice. "We would get together with all involved parties, have an in depth conversation about what had happened — and then use the offender’s testicles as a punching bag. Simple as that."
"Simple. But not very pleasant for the proprietor of the punching bag."
"Wait, wait, this is all going so fast," said Remus. "Sirius … you said ‘girlfriend?’"
"Right. Gah. I’m an ass," said Sirius. "Introductions first. Then screwing."
"Sirius, you have a one-track mind."
"You never complained before. Moira Cybelle, may I present Remus Lupin, the best childhood friend a man could ever have. Remus, the Americans hire the real article for Divinations teachers, and it’s entirely due to Moira that I’m back. I hope you’ll get on well together; you should, since you’re both insane enough to put up with me. All clear now?"
"But, if you’ve a girlfriend, then we shouldn’t …"
"Shouldn’t what?" put in Moira. "Welcome your beloved after four years? Remus … may I call you Remus? Thanks. Remus, this reprobate has been talking about you as long as I’ve known him. It practically feels like I was at school with the both of you sometimes. I know what you are to each other, and I wouldn’t dream of trying to interfere with that. So go on, off with you. I don’t expect to see either of you till tomorrow, lest I lose my faith in Twue Wuv."
Remus snorted at hearing that, and smiled over at Sirius, who gently grabbed his arm and led him to the other suite.
#####
The next morning came giving Harry a shock. He awoke to discover himself pinned between two warm, pleasantly rounded bodies. Hermione was sleeping on his left shoulder, and when he turned to see who the other woman was, he discovered that it was Moira. The covers were down to his waist and quite rumpled, and he could see that she was dressed as Hermione was — at least from the waist up, nothing.
"Please, whoever is listening out there, let this be Tonks playing a joke on me," he murmured into the air. "Sirius will kill me if not."
"Kill you for what?" Moira said from his shoulder. "We’re all adults here, and it's not like you did anything to me last night, even if we all do happen to be nude right now."
As he reacted, somewhat obviously, he said, "I really did not need to think about being naked in the same bed with my godfather's rather sexy girlfriend."
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because I hate myself for being tempted. It feels like I'm being unfaithful to Tonks, and this beauty on my arm, and to Ginny. It's not logical, but it's the way I'm thinking right now."
The door to the suite opened, and Sirius and Remus came into the room. Moira looked up and said, "Hey Sirius, I slept with your godson last night."
"How was he?" Sirius asked.
"Gentle as a lamb, and he snores cutely too. As for what he's thinking and I led you to believe, we'll have to find out at another time. You were right, though. Even climbing into bed with him, he knew that I wasn't one of his ladies, so he never once, even in his sleep, placed his hands anywhere untoward. He defines what a gentleman is."
Tonks stepped out of the bathroom wearing a towel in her hair and nothing else. "And he's also a gentle man. If you're ever interested in finding out, Moira, you have my vote. You were there for him when he needed you, and I like the man he's become."
"You've got mine too," Hermione said quietly, ostensibly in Harry's ear, but loud enough for everyone else to hear.
"I've trusted you with my life, Harry," Sirius said. "Not to mention the fact that I've talked to these ladies. If Moira ever decides that she wants to see exactly why these girls rave about your skills as a lover, then I'm not going to complain about it."
"I’m not going to worry about that just yet," Harry said slowly, more than slightly flustered. "We have more important things to deal with." He looked at the two ladies still resting on his shoulders and said, "Could you possibly get up and perhaps get dressed? I’m … uh … I need to think, and that’s very difficult at the moment."
The two ladies chuckled and slid from the bed, Transfiguring their discarded harem costumes into bathrobes. Harry marvelled for just a moment that such beautiful women graced his life in such roles, and then shook his head. Once they were out of the room and Harry had dealt with morning necessities, he looked at the somewhat bemused werewolf and said, "Now that the blood flow is restored to parts north, I can contemplate what I need to say." He continued talking while dressing. "I need to set up a meeting with people who can be trusted, Remus. I don’t want word of this meeting getting back to Dumbledore yet. I have some things to say to the Order members that we can trust." He paused. "Do you think that Petunia Evans would be trustworthy for this sort of thing, or does she answer to Dumbledore?"
"Honestly, Harry, I truly believe that if you asked her to choose between you two, you’d win hands down. I’ve caught her crying at times over the last four years, and always because of the treatment that she gave you growing up."
"If you trust her, Remus, then invite her to the meeting. But they must be people who will not go running to Dumbledore without … well, this will be the thing that bugs them … without asking me first. I have my reasons, which will be enumerated at the meeting. How soon do you think you could get them together?"
"It would take a couple days," Remus mused. "When and where should we meet?"
"The old headquarters for the Order. Try somewhere around the seventh, I guess."
"Harry, no one can get into …" Remus started to say, and then laughed. "I suppose the owner of said property, being the one who locked us out, can let us back in, can’t he?" Harry merely grinned back at his old teacher.
"I will admit that you have managed to surprise me, Harry," Remus said a moment later. "You're surprisingly accepting about the relationship between Sirius and myself."
"My entire life has been defined by hate. Voldemort hated my existence enough to try to murder a baby, and he hates me even more now because I keep getting in his way and surviving. Vernon Dursley hated me enough that I truly think that he would have killed me if he could have figured out how, and he taught that hate to Dudley. Draco Malfoy hated me because I spurned his attempts at friendship, if you can call it that. Snape hates me because … well, to paraphrase someone else … it’s more the fact that I exist, if you know what I mean." Both Sirius and Remus recognized the source of the comment and winced at the pain in Harry’s voice. "A lot of my fellow students hated me because they thought they should, or because the Prophet told them to, or some such drivel." As he spoke, Ginny and Tonks tapped on the door and let themselves in, sitting on either side of Harry. Harry leaned over and hugged them, first one and then the other. "Then, against all luck, my godfather came back, and we've lived together for four years, giving me the home I always wanted — loving and where I'm treated like a valuable member of the household."
"Of course you are! It’s your money!" Sirius quipped, to be followed with a hurt expression and an exclamation of "Ow!" as Remus smacked him lightly on the shoulders.
"Be that as it may," snorted Harry, "I found some friends in San Francisco who didn't know that I was The Boy Who Lived, and liked me for me. And then, after all that, four people who mean more to me than words will ever be able to convey properly, who I thought I might never see again, show up on my doorstep and tell me that they love me, which was more than I ever could have hoped for. Besides, three of the ladies in question have a relationship with each other, and I have no problems with that — how hypocritical would it be of me to begrudge my godfather and his best friend-slash-lover their relationship? We've all had too much loss in our lives — my parents were your best friends in the entire world. Any happiness we can grab is worth it." Realizing that the tone had turned fairly serious, he turned and pounced Ginny, hugging her tightly. "Got her!" This had the desired effect, causing the room to break out in laughter. "Excuse for a second folks, I have a need to nuzzle this incredibly alluring neck."
He proceeded to nibble gently on the girl in his arms, who soon breathed into the room at large, "Don't think I'm not going to get a proper revenge on you, Harry. You know what you're doing to me."
"Well, we have to clean up the old HQ, which means that we'll get nice and dusty and dirty. That requires a shower afterwards, wouldn't you say?" He nipped gently at her neck one last time, and looked up to see a widely smiling Remus, who looked suspiciously as if his eyes were particularly damp.
"I don't think I can tell you how good it is to see you so at peace with yourself, Harry," he said finally. "I need to get myself ready, and then head out to connect with those people you asked for. Only those you do not expect to talk to Dumbledore should even be made aware of the meeting in the first place, correct?" At Harry's nod, he asked, "Just to verify what you said earlier — I should bring Petunia? She will wish to speak with you, and she's not a Dumbledore fan, to be honest. She blames him for chasing you off before she could apologize to you."
"If you trust her, Remus, then she can come to the meeting," Harry said. "If she really feels that way, then I can get to know her. If not, well, there’s a reason memory charms exist."
The others in the room blinked at how forthright he was in making the statement, but Tonks nodded at the logic behind it. Remus said, "I’m going to invite Amelia Bones — she and Dumbledore haven’t gotten on as famously as they once did, ever since his antics lost her one of her best Aurors. I think Fred and George also. They still haven’t quite forgiven Molly’s burst of temper that led to you two leaving." He looked at Ron and Ginny. "Expect to get an earful when you do see her again."
Harry snorted. "She’ll end up throwing me off the property when I’m done with her. I am not stepping foot on Weasley lands again until all the people I love are welcome there." He turned to Ron and Ginny. "Sorry."
"For what?" Ron asked. "You’re within your rights. I’ve lived with her for four years now, and I agree with you. If she’s not welcome, then neither am I. I left on purpose, with her." Ginny merely nodded vehemently, which set up some interesting vibrations that Harry took a moment to enjoy.
Harry shook his head. "Enough. Remus, I trust you to invite people who won’t go running to the Minister immediately. We’ll see everyone there on the seventh. It’ll probably take us the entire time till then to clean the place up, since I think doing magic in there is likely to set off sensors at the Ministry. So we get dirty and dusty." He looked to Ginny and wiggled his eyebrows at her. Remus laughed, gave Sirius a heartfelt hug, and Apparated away.
#####
They appeared in an alley near Grimmauld place, and walked the rest of the way there. Harry chuckled as he pulled out his wand and murmured "I ain’t here, man!" Ginny was surprised to feel a tingle as he did that, and watched in alarm as Harry nonchalantly walked up to the appearing door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place and opened it in broad daylight, with people on the street. No one seemed to notice. He turned around and motioned them all inside.
"How did you do that?" Ginny asked as the door closed behind them. "Magic in broad daylight, and no one noticed it!"
"You didn’t have some of the teachers I did, obviously. The words are unimportant in a spell. The most important thing about a spell is the intent. Be honest — who in hell first learned that a certain series of wand waves, jabs, and squiggles casts a certain spell? We do wandless magic as children, and it tends to do what we want. All the rest are focusing mechanisms. You can forego the waving and the words, but you need the intent, and a wand is really good at focusing and improving the power of the spell — after all, there’s a reason for those magical cores. I’d show you more of what I mean, but I don’t want to have the Minister and the ones in his pocket swooping down on this place. He may have the secret right now, but eventually he’ll either die, freeing up the secret, or just decide to end it."
He shrugged. "Unfortunately, this means that we clean this place the Mundane way. Let’s get going."
#####
They realized that it was probably best to start in the rooms they’d be sleeping in, which led to a small fight between Sirius and Harry, each of whom felt that the master bedroom belonged to the other person. Ron ended up winning the argument for Sirius when he said quietly, "Harry? Which one of you has the willing harem? Which one of you needs the greater space? If and when you no longer actually own this place, then you can give the bedroom over to him, but for now, you probably ought to sleep there."
That small crisis averted, they set to cleaning the rooms with a vengeance. Dust flew until they all were a deep charcoal colour, and evening had started to come around. At roughly six p.m., Harry felt a vibration in his pocket, and pulled out the mirror to show Remus. "Yeah, what can I do for you, Remus?" he asked.
"Sorry I didn't get the chance to talk to her earlier, but you shouldn't worry about doing magic at the house. Amelia will keep an eye out for that sort of thing, since it needs to cross her desk first. Albus doesn't have enough of a solid foot in the office to have people willing to go around her. At least not yet."
"Excellent. We'll all take some showers, and then I think that we'll get serious with the clean up tomorrow. How many have you talked to so far?"
"Amelia and the twins are the only ones I could get without drawing any real suspicion. Wouldn't have thought it about the Head of MLE, but we got to be friends four years ago, so I show up occasionally just to talk when I can. They've gotten used to me, so no one thinks twice about it. I asked her to talk to Shack for us as well. We can trust him. I'll get to the others in the next few days. That really leaves talking to Arabella and Moody. I can get Arabella to get in touch with Petunia for me."
"Thanks again, Remus. I owe you one."
"No you don't. I'll see you in a few days at the very latest." The image disappeared from the mirror.
He looked to the crowd. "Okay, magic is now usable. Let's get ourselves cleaned up, though. At least now I can figure out how to remove the biddy from downstairs."
"That's my mother you're talking about, Harry," Sirius growled. "You can use much nastier terms than that for her."
"There are ladies present," Harry said loftily. "Delicate ears, or some such bullshit." He grinned widely at that. "Now, I'm feeling filthy at the moment, and I'd really like to look as if I hadn't spent the last few years in Newcastle." He began to walk toward the bath in the master bedroom. Almost nonchalantly, he turned around and asked, "Coming Ginny?"
"Not at the moment," she replied, eyes twinkling. "I'm sure you can fix that, however."
"Ah, so you're asking for my input on the subject?" he asked with a grin as he motioned her into the bath.
"As long as that subject is me, yes," she replied, dropping her voice an octave and swinging her hips slightly. His answer was to pull her into a hug from behind and let his hands slide up to cup her breasts.
"I love you, Ginevra Weasley," he said in a voice thick with emotion. "I didn't think it was possible to love three women as powerfully as I love you three." His hands pulled her shirt free of the shorts she wore, and slid slowly up her body, once again cupping her bra-covered breasts in his hands.
"You sound like you're proposing to the three of us," she said in a shaky voice.
He thought for a moment before saying, "Can't say as it's a bad idea. I already know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you three. Why not make it formal? Not official until …"
"I know," she grumbled. "Not until Voldemort is dead."
He nibbled her ear. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of not being official until I could buy the three of you engagement rings."
She gasped. "Are you serious?" she breathed. "You're not going to make us wait until Voldemort's dead?"
"What? You think I'm stupid or something? Hell, if I thought we could get away with it, I'd marry you the same day, but we'll probably have to wait for after he's dead for that to happen. If I have to blow all of the goodwill my fame gets me in order to arrange that, I will. And if they won’t allow it, the hell with it, I’ll do it anyway." He laughed. "I want to live a long time, Ginny. I want to spend that time living and loving to life's fullest. You three goddesses do that for me — you make me want to live."
She blushed. "Do you really think of me as a 'sexy freckled goddess'?"
He slid his hands down and then peeled her shirt over her head, followed by undoing her shorts and sliding them down her body, nibbling gently on the smooth tan and freckled cheek presented to him as her shorts hit the floor. He looked up to see her undoing her bra, and slid his own clothes off his body. "Let's get our shower, and I'll worship you as a goddess should be worshipped. With a great deal of devotion." He pulled his wand from his own clothes and motioned at the shower, which started to spray hot water into the stall. He opened the door and then swooped her into his arms, kissing her thoroughly as he stepped in, allowing the water to strike him first, on the chance that he had set the temperature too high. Finding it to be perfect, he turned around and let the water strike her as well. All the while he held her and kissed her.
When they finally broke for air, he gently set her down and grabbed a bar of soap and worked it into a lather before running his hands along her body, soaping her skin and giving her a quick and gentle massage at the same time. He grinned to himself as he took extra time to massage her extreme upper thighs, and knew that when time came to sheathe himself, as he so wanted to do, he'd have no trouble slipping inside her.
He stood finally, and began to lather the soap in her hair. She turned to face him, and pressed tightly against him. "Harry," she murmured. "Finish quickly with the soap. I need you in me. Please?"
"You need but ask, beloved," he said, lowering himself for another kiss, and their tongues clashed for an endless moment. He quickly washed the dust and grime from himself while she worked the soap from her hair. She grinned and worked in some shampoo, and then conditioner after that was out of her hair.
"It needs to sit for a while, and rather than be bored while waiting, I figure a nice relaxing bout of sex should work as a good timer." He laughed and picked her up to kiss her, his hands seeming to naturally come to rest on her firm muscular buttocks. Their lips met, and she wrapped her legs around him to grind into him gently. The kiss broke and he lifted her while she carefully manoeuvred him, and then he let her slowly slide down his body until their pelvises met. He moved to press her against the wall of the shower and began to thrust.
She had apparently stayed in a state of arousal ever since that morning, because he managed to bring her to her first orgasm in record time. He continued in his tender ministrations, not only because he enjoyed the sensations so very much, but because he knew she’d quite likely do him an injury if he dared pull out before his own orgasm happened.
Finally sated inside her, he chuckled as he found her fighting him gently as he decided it was time to pull out of her. "Ginny, I can’t wear you around town like this."
"Why not?" she giggled, tightening her legs slightly.
"It’s a bit inconvenient, for one thing," he laughed.
"But you feel so good inside me, I never want to release you."
"You have to, honey. What about the other girls?"
"As long as you’re talking Hermione and Nymph," she replied with a laugh, shivering as Harry slowly slid from her. "Morgana give me the strength to deal with not feeling complete all the time." He saw her start to laugh as he felt his jaw drop. "Harry, when you’re in me like that, I feel whole — I feel like — damn it, the only way to describe it is that I feel complete."
She frowned momentarily. "Harry, I don’t know if I’m a seer or not, but I knew the second I saw you that I was going to be with you someday. Not the cute little girl feeling, either. Even at ten, I was stunned by the utterly adult feeling of love I had for you." She blushed furiously. "I don’t know if Mum ever knew just how early I started to sexually mature. I was touching myself all your first year, Harry. That’s part of why my elbow ended up in the butter the summer before my first year — I was afraid that you’d somehow know that I was doing that, and would think me a silly little girl."
"I didn’t really understand anything about girls until about fourth year," he answered honestly. "Even then, all I understood is that I suddenly enjoyed looking at them. It wasn’t until Tonks came along just before I ran to the U.S. that I really understood what my feelings were." He laughed in a self-deprecating manner. "I’m a bit slow at times. That’s why I’m surrounding myself with women far more intelligent than I am."
She hugged him. "Thank you. I don’t know why, Harry, but the few times you’ve been inside me, I simply felt … I felt as if … damn, it’s poetic, but it’s also the only way to describe it, even if it is a cliché. It feels as if the other part of my soul that I didn’t know was gone has returned. I feel that with all of you. Ask the girls how difficult it is to disengage from me."
"It’s a fun struggle, though," Harry said as he ran his fingers through her hair, helping her to remove all the conditioner. They stepped from the shower finally where Harry cast a drying charm on her and then himself. She combed her hair out before drying it, and then they left the bath, their dirty clothes in hand.
#####
Downstairs, Harry found Sirius looking at the painting of his mother, which had apparently come unstuck from the wall. "You weren’t able to get her off the wall the entire time you were here before. What did you do this time?"
Sirius looked up and shrugged. "Apparently she couldn’t handle my doing something her Dark Lord couldn’t do this well — come back from the dead looking better than I had been looking before I died. She fainted, and the painting came smashing down off the wall."
He picked up the heavy thing and dragged it into the drawing room, where he started a fire, and tossed the painting in. He followed that with a Silencing Charm. "No need to listen to the old biddy scream," he said. "So, let’s see about some food then, shall we?"
They walked into the kitchen, where Moira found herself scowling. "Forgive me for this, Sirius, but that painting was of your mother. How could you just burn it so easily?"
Sirius just looked to the others and said, "Would any of you like to take a go at this? Maybe with all of us explaining what my mother was like, she’ll understand why it was so easy to do that."
Harry looked at her. "Moira, for one thing, it’s not really his mother, as you know. It’s just an echo. But she was insane. She screamed at everyone. The only reason we didn’t set her off today was because we were working upstairs. If we’d been down here, you’d have gotten a taste, I’m sure. The only one that she didn’t scream at in my presence was that obnoxious house elf Kreacher. Everyone else was a blood traitor or a Mudblood or half-breed scum. She worshipped the ground that the feet of the Dark Lord touched, and she made sure you knew it."
"Mudblood?" Moira asked with curiosity.
"A Muggleborn wizard or witch. Sorry — forgetting that America does not use those terms — I slipped back into the English patterns so easily. A mage who does not have a mage for a parent, or, as far as anyone can tell, any mages at all in their family tree. It’s the British mage equivalent of calling … oh, let’s choose Jesse Jackson … calling that man a ‘nigger’. Mudblood is just as disgusting a term, and thrown about by people who think of themselves as pure-blooded."
Moira looked at herself, and looked up at Harry. "Ever wonder about the permanent tan I seem to have? That perfect bronze shading that so many of the boys drooled over? My mother came from Ireland — born and raised there — but my dad’s family? His African-American skin blended with her pale Irish skin to give me this shade. You couldn’t have chosen a better example if you tried — especially since I can remember a cross burning on our lawn when I was nine. We didn’t live in Kansas for very long after that. Especially since I’d recognized some of them — I’ve always been able to See, after all. They all had particularly ugly accidents in the next month. We moved later on." She sighed. "I understand ‘Mudblood’." She looked to Sirius. "Was there nothing good about her?"
"She could be a wonderful mother — unless you disagreed with her. I don’t know if the family tree still hangs out there in the hallway, but look at the blasted areas. My name is blasted off, as is my cousin Andromeda Tonks."
"My mum," Tonks replied before Moira could actually ask the question. "He calls me his cousin, but it’s really one of those ‘once-removed’ sort of things."
"I ran away when I was young, and went to live with the Potter family. It was there that I learned how a family is supposed to act toward each other. She wanted nothing to do with me, and told me personally that if it had been within her power to keep me from the family title, she would have done so."
"Title?" Hermione asked. "You mean like the title to the house and properties?"
He snorted. "No. Until I fell through that veil, I was Baron Black. Never had the chance to line Fudge’s pockets to stay out of prison, otherwise I’d have walked as free as Malfoy. Since Harry James Potter was my heir designated in the will, the title passes to him, and the title will go to the first male child one of you ladies produces."
"You know something?" Ron said, out of the blue. "Given the way the Ministry thinks, you may get arrested again once it’s known that you’re back from beyond the veil. After all, you’re legally dead, which means that right now, you’re illegally alive." He grinned at the table. "Can you deny that some people in the Ministry seem to think that way?"
"We’ll talk ‘em into making him pay a fine and promising to stay dead next time," Harry chuckled. "That’ll clear things up." He shook his head. "I’ll worry about being heir to the Black Family at some later point. I’m just afraid that someone’s going to tell me that I’m related to Queen Elizabeth or something."
"Um, Harry?" Sirius started to say. "I hate to tell you this, but … well, one of your great-great grandparents on your mother’s side was named Alphonse Gotha. Do you remember learning what the royal family’s name was before being legally changed to Windsor?"
"Saxe-Coburg. Why?"
Hermione went white. "Actually, Harry, it was Saxe-Coburg-Gotha." She looked to Sirius. "Please tell me you’re joking, Sirius."
He snorted. "Yes and no. It really was the case, but I doubt that her parents ever knew, and Lily would never have bragged about it. If you go far enough back, everybody’s family hits royalty. It puts Harry in the situation of being three hundred and eighty third, or thereabouts, in line for the throne of England. It would take a massive family gathering of all the royal families of Europe getting together and being wiped out by a meteor strike for Harry to come close to worrying about it."
"Actually, it would go to Harry’s Aunt Petunia first, since she was the older sister and is still alive," said Hermione. "And then Dudley. What?" she said, realizing everyone was gaping at her.
"Only you would work out the lineage like that," said Harry. "Okay, I’ll worry about the ‘Baron’ thing another time. Let’s get some food, maybe do a little more cleaning, this time with magic, and then get some sleep. How does that sound to everyone?"
#####
The seventh dawned bright and apparently cheerful. It was certainly more cheerful in the Black Family home. They had spent one day tearing out everything — wallpaper, curtains, and scraping the old paint off walls. A large number of gallons of paint were purchased, and painting was done in record time, brightening the home even further. Furniture was purchased, and soon places such as the drawing room reminded Harry comfortably of the Gryffindor common room. They weren’t completely finished with the place, considering the fact that it was far larger than it appeared, but it certainly was far more pleasant than what it had been when they first arrived.
Hermione awoke sometime around ten a.m. to find one person missing from the tangle of bodies on the bed, but gathered almost immediately where he’d gotten to when she smelled something coming up the stairs. Hmm, bacon, I think, and it smells as if he’s decided to do some baking as well. She sat up, wincing slightly, and smiling at the reason for her wincing. I’ll have to remember the mixture of Sexy Librarian and bondage again. Chaining him to that wall to make him pay off his library fines was brilliant!
She climbed from the bed, not bothering to dress, and walked downstairs to the kitchen area, where Harry, wearing shorts and an apron for safety, was finishing up his cooking. He was about to cast some heating and protective spells when he saw her and his face lit up. "Hermione! How are you feeling?"
"A little tender, thank you very much, and I do mean thank you! That was incredible." She blushed. "I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell you what it meant to me when you immediately relaxed when you saw those manacles around your wrists and ankles. No questions of what I was doing or anything like that — just simple acceptance."
He looked honestly puzzled. "Why wouldn’t I relax? You wouldn’t intentionally hurt me unless it was for a good cause, such as my truly deserving it."
"That’s what I’m talking about," she sniffed. "You automatically decided that you were safe. The level of trust that showed was astounding, and the fact that you can’t wrap your head around why it touches me so much is … I can’t find the words."
"You love me, and I love you. If I can’t trust you, or Ginny, or Tonks, then who can I trust?" he shrugged.
"Give it up," said Tonks as she walked into the room, dressed the same way Hermione was. Her hair was the bubble gum pink it had been the very first time Harry had met her. "He’ll never understand why his attitude toward us makes us melt, or why it puts his virtue in danger." She chuckled at the last comment.
"He’s the perfect man," Ginny said quite seriously, completing the trio of beautiful women. "He treats us as priceless and perfect, but doesn’t try to keep us from being ourselves. We can get in danger right alongside him without him verbally telling us he’d rather not see us there, although we all know he’d like to."
"It’s not like it would be all that effective, right?" Harry asked with a smile. "You’d do it anyway, and I’d have wasted breath trying to stop you. Sisyphean effort is not my thing."
"I’m not sure, girls, but I think we might have been called hard-headed," Hermione said with a smile.
"The rest of you is delightfully soft," Harry offered by way of apology.
"Are you saying I’m fat?" she asked, a twinkle in her eyes. His response was to walk over to a wall and begin smacking his forehead lightly against it. "What are you doing?" she squeaked.
"I can’t win this one, so I’m not even going to try," he laughed. "I figured I might as well be banging my head against a wall, so I did."
"Did she bother you with that?" Ginny asked, worried.
"If she’d been serious, she would have, but it was obvious from her eyes that she was having me on." He walked out the doorway and yelled up the stairs, "Hey Ron! Food!" He was answered by a door slamming open and feet pounding down the stairs. Sirius and Moira came out of a different room and walked down at a much more sedate pace. "Hurry up, guys. If Ron’s here, you might not get any food by the time you get to the table."
#####
That breakfast worked out quite well, Tonks thought as she looked at the wizard lying next to her on the bed. And think how well my occasional clumsiness paid off. She purred quietly to herself. She had picked up one of the cinnamon buns that Harry had baked and dropped it on the way to her mouth. It had landed icing side toward her skin, and had slid from her collar to her pubic hair before she could grab it. Harry’s eyes had lit up, and as soon as she had finished the bun, he picked her up and carried her upstairs to get the icing off her body. Since he had rather carefully used his tongue to achieve this goal, she certainly was not complaining.
The afternoon arrived, and they finally climbed from the bed and dressed. Knowing the crowd that would be arriving shortly, she contemplated wearing something that would make Harry want to have her sitting in his lap, but decided instead to go with a form-fitting tank shirt and a pair of pants that were loose in the legs but fit her hips beautifully.
She looked at Harry, who was rather obviously admiring the fit of her clothing, and said, "It’s time you get dressed too, sexy. Unless you intend on having the meeting in the nude."
"Wouldn’t that shock ‘em all? The group of us walking in starkers?"
"Yeah, but what if the others decided to follow form? Fred and George would be a pleasant bit of all right, but Moody?"
Harry shuddered. "I may need the image that brought to my mind Obliviated, Tonks. That was beyond horrifying," he laughed. He climbed from the bed and dressed quickly.
The day went fairly quickly after that, and soon it was time for the first people to show up. Remus Apparated in at roughly seven p.m. with Amelia Bones. She took one look at Sirius and immediately looked to Remus. "You told me I wouldn’t believe one of the things I’d see here tonight." She looked back to the group. "Everyone else will arrive and come in the front door. They’re all aware that you’re back, Harry, because they know what the goblins told Albus — only the owner can re-open the household."
"Who’s coming?" Harry asked.
"Obviously Remus and myself," she said with a smile. "I’ve also told Kingsley to come, and he was going to contact Moody. Remus contacted Arabella and the Weasley twins, so that’s about it."
"Petunia will be here," Remus said quietly.
"Good," Harry said. "I’d like to talk to her."
In short order, the rest of the people were there. Petunia was quite nervous until Harry walked over and pulled her into a tentative hug. "People I trust vouch for your change, Aunt Petunia. We’ll talk later, but you have that second chance that they told me you wanted." She smiled at him and nodded, relaxing somewhat.
Harry walked to the head of the table. "Okay folks, it’s time we get down to business. First off, to those of you who just arrived, I think you’ll be pleased to meet an unexpected guest to this meeting. If you would?" Sirius walked into the room to the silence of the entire crowd.
"Hi guys — miss me?" he grinned. "Yes, Moody, it’s me — if you need proof, I can talk about that time that you, me, and James were dealing with that house out in Brighton?"
Alastor Moody snorted, putting his wand away. "Just the fact that you know about it tells me everything I need to know, since we all swore to keep silent about it," he growled at Sirius, although there was what passed for a smile on his face.
"Okay, now that we have that little surprise out of the way, I need to explain why I broke my word and returned to the Isles. You’ll also understand why I only wanted you people here when I explain."
"Our little Harry’s grown up and learned suspense and pacing," Fred Weasley said, wiping a non-existent tear away.
"We’re so proud of him," George sniffed in response.
"The twins are right, Harry," Remus said. "You’ve told them," he said, pointing at the group that had been in the United States, "but you’ve not told me, for example. Why have you returned?"
"I know who the traitor in the Order is — the one who had both Lucius Malfoy and Cornelius Fudge being murdered."
Amelia sat up. "Who? Do you have proof?"
"Nothing that will stand before the Wizengamot, but logic told me that it has to be Albus Dumbledore."