308AN: ******Big announcement,****** I've officially lost faith in fan fiction dot net's ability to stay functional. I know my update schedule is shit. I know. That's why notifications are kind of important for people to receive. But their notifications keep going down and now I'm getting spammed with backlog and I'm done with this shit. So, I'll be cross posting my ongoing works, namely this and my Star Wars fic, to archive of our own. You can find me there under the user name Fencer22, if that's something you're interested in, and if not this will serve as verification that they are in fact my works and no I'm not stealing them. It might take me a bit because a) I've got carona, and b) I'm planning to actually go through and edit which will suck.
First bit of this chapter is an edited version of canon but it diverges pretty quickly.
Thanks as always go to the amazing Functionality for putting up with my crazy and editing this for all of you. Give the man his due.
{}{}{}{} POV: Harry Potter, Location: Diagon Alley.
"Molly, it doesn't make sense for all of us to go to Madam Malkin's," said Mr. Weasley. "Why don't those three go with Hagrid, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone's schoolbooks?"
"I don't know," said Mrs. Weasley anxiously, clearly torn between a desire to finish the shopping quickly and the wish to stick together in a pack. "Hagrid, do you think-?"
"Don' fret, they'll be fine with me, Molly," said Hagrid soothingly, waving an airy hand the size of a dustbin lid.
Mrs. Weasley did not look entirely convinced, but allowed the separation, scurrying off toward Flourish and Blotts with her husband and Ginny while I, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid set off for Madam Malkin's.
It was hard not to notice that many of the people we passed had the same harried, anxious look as Mrs. Weasley, and that nobody was stopping to talk anymore; the shoppers stayed together in their own tightly knit groups, moving intently about their business. Nobody seemed to be shopping alone.
"Migh' be a bit of a squeeze in there with all of us," said Hagrid, stopping outside Madam Malkin's and bending down to peer through the window. "I'll stand guard outside, all right?"
So Ron, Hermione, and I entered the little shop together. It appeared, at first glance, to be empty, but no sooner had the door swung shut behind us than they heard a familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes in spangled green and blue.
". . . not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."
There was a clucking noise and a voice I recognized as that of Madam Malkin, the owner, said,
"Now, dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child -"
"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!" A teenage boy with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack, wearing a handsome set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed us reflected over his shoulder. His light gray eyes narrowed.
"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in," said Draco Malfoy.
"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and a wand.
"And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" she added hastily, for a glance toward the door had shown her Ron and I both standing there with our wands out and pointing at Malfoy.
Hermione, who was standing slightly behind them, whispered, "No, don't, honestly, it's not worth it. . . ."
"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," sneered Malfoy. "Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."
"That's quite enough!" said Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. "Madam — please —"
Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack.
"Put those away," she said coldly.. "If you attack my son, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."
"Really?" I asked, taking a step forward and gazing into the smoothly arrogant face that, for all its pallor, still resembled her sister's. I was as tall as she was now. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"
Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart.
"Really, you shouldn't accuse — dangerous thing to say — wands away, please!" Yeah right, fat chance of that.
Narcissa Malfoy smiled unpleasantly.
"I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you." Smirking, I glanced all around the shop.
"Wow… look at that… he's not here now! So why not have a go? I'm sure the Ministry has somewhere they can stick you until I deliver your husband to them a second time. Maybe you'll even get adjoining cells!" Malfoy made an angry movement forward, but stumbled over his overlong robe. Ron laughed loudly.
"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!" Malfoy snarled.
"It's all right, Draco," said Narcissa, restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. "I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius."
Suddenly this was less amusing and I raised my wand an inch higher.
"Harry, no!" Moaned Hermione, grabbing my arm and attempting to push it down. "Think… You mustn't… You'll be in such trouble..."
"I don't know, I'd say she just threatened me with death. The Auror's might really appreciate a reason to ask her and Draco some questions about her husband and the undead thing he follows. Tell me has he branded you like livestock yet? Should the aurors check?" I snapped, not taking my eyes off of the wretched woman and her son.
Draco flinched. It wasn't much, but compared to the anger he was showing before it stood out like spilled ink on clean parchment. Or maybe I'd just gotten better at watching for tells trying to figure out what Taylor was thinking. And wasn't that interesting. Not proof, but I'd bet good money I'd hit the mark with that one.
Madam Malkin dithered for a moment on the spot, then seemed to decide to act as though nothing was happening in the hope that it wouldn't. She bent toward Malfoy, who was still glaring at us.
"I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just —"
"Ouch!" bellowed Malfoy, slapping her hand away. "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother — I don't think I want these anymore —" He pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.
"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Hermione, "now I know the kind of scum that shops here. . . . We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's." And with that, the pair of them strode out of the shop, Malfoy taking care to bang as hard as he could into Ron on the way out.
"Well, really!" said Madam Malkin, snatching up the fallen robes and moving the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed all the dust
Madam Malkin was a distracted nervous mess as she corralled us and started to take measurements.
"Harry," Hermione spoke up, nibbling at her lower lip as she tried to organize her thoughts, "I don't mean to pry but this might be the best chance ning we get to ask and…"
"You and Taylor aren't stuck together anymore." Ron chipped in bluntly.
"Ron!" Hermione snapped, then looked apologetically at me and nodded. "But yes, that."
Groaning, I glanced around the shop hoping for a way to put off this conversation. Instead I saw Madam Malkin perk up and start listening intently while badly feigning deafness.
Glaring at the pair I gestured to the shop owner. Ron and Hermione winced, shared a glance and came to an unspoken agreement.
"I know it's not ideal, Harry, but we'd rather discuss this away from Taylor." Hermione spoke carefully. I glared. "Just to be sure everything is alright!" She rushed out. "Honestly, Harry, we're just worried. And I doubt we'll have a chance to discuss it away from her until we are at Hogwarts… And well, at least Mrs. Weasley isn't here."
"No." I said flatly.
"Harry…" Hermione said firmly.
"Hermione, drop it. I am not talking to you two about this in the Diagon alley of all places." I snapped. "If by some miracle some reporter isn't stalking us after word that I'm here spreads, which it probably will, anyone listening could just go ahead and sell some half made up story about what I say to the prophet. And knowing the Prophet they'll throw out whatever real facts make it to them and invent something extra sensational just to spite me." I glared at Madam Malkin who put on a semi convincing act of being offended.
The shop owner muttered something that sounded like "Why I never," under her breath.
I resisted the urge to scoff at the woman.
Maybe, maybe, she wouldn't sell the conversation to the prophet, but it was entirely possible that somewhere in the store was a beatle by the name of Rita Skeeter just hoping for a chance to cause me migraines. Honestly all she would have to do is write the story under a pen name instead of her own, and she'd have plausible deniability. Hermione could still rat her out for being an illegal animagus if she did but that wouldn't save me from having to deal with the fallout. No, I was not risking that.
"But Harry, we can't talk about this when Taylor is around and-" Hermione began before I cut her off.
"Hermione, drop it. We talked about our options, we decided being tethered like that was dangerous for both of us. We took care of it. It-" I cut myself off now with a shake of my head. Maybe I really did still want to talk about this with someone. It was a lot. And talking about it with Taylor had helped. But not here, not now. And something else Hermione had set struck me as ever so slightly off.
"And there's no reason we can't talk about this around Taylor. It's as much her business as mine."
Hermione and Ron shared a look. And I could swear I felt a headache coming on because this would not be the end of things.
Thankfully they dropped it, for now.
{}{}{}{} Number Twelve Grimmauld Place
"The sex life of minors you are not related to is none of your damn business!" Taylor shouted at Mrs. Weasley.
I rubbed my temples and tried to fend off the rapidly growing headache. Mrs. Weasley had been better than Ron and Hermione in that she waited until we were back here and not in public to start expressing her opinion. Unfortunately that just meant she spent hours stewing on it and had well and truly gone off once given the chance.
"Yes, minors! You shouldn't even have a sex life!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked back.
"Well go take it up with the bastard that performed the ceremony then, because I certainly never planned to marry this young!"
"Don't you try to change the subject, girl! I can't possibly condone the two of you living together if you are going to act like this when unsupervised!"
"You don't get a say in how either of us live our lives, you harpy! And in case you haven't noticed this is our house! Harry owns it! If you can't be civil when visiting I'll throw you out!"
"Throw me out?! I'm a fully trained witch and a grown woman, what in Merlin's name is a slip of a girl like you without a lick of magic going to do?!"
"Oh yes, all bow to the terrifying witch who didn't even notice when doxies dragged her wand out of her pocket."
"Wha- Give that back this instant!"
"I'll toss it at your head when you get the hell out of our home in obnoxious harridan! One portkey slipped to either of us or a side along apparition and we would both be dead! With that stupid teather in place I'd have been stuck following Harry from class to class like a puppy on a leash! It had to go for our safety! And so we could actually have a measure of privacy and independence! We're not shacked up here playing house or honeymoon! It's been awkward, and uncomfortable, and not in the least bit romantic! So don't throw a fit at me because you're upset that we're doing the best we can!"
I looked up to stare dead eyed at Ron and Hermione.
"Does that answer your questions?"
Hermione opened her mouth to say something but was cut off when Mrs. Weasley shrieked in fright and that was finally too much as Ron bolted for the dining room door and threw it open.
Taylor had six doxies swooping back and forth in front of Mrs. Weasley, but not one was even touching her.
"Hey!" Ron shouted. "Enough already. I get it, but that's me Mum!"
Taylor shot Ron a withering look, then tossed him Mrs. Weasley's wand.
"Do not give that back to her until she's out of this house. And in case you need an incentive to listen to me over your mother, I now have an expanded box full of spiders the size of tarantulas." Her piece well and truly said Taylor stormed out of the room.
"Ronald, give me my wand! I am going to teach that uppity child-"
"Mrs. Weasley!" I cut her off firmly. "I care about you and your family a lot, so please believe me when I say I do not want to have to pull my wife off of you, and I certainly do not want to have to get into an argument with her about when it is appropriate to send a swarm of giant spiders after someone."
"Harry-"
"No." I swiped my arm through the air. "You think I'm any happier than her about you judging us for what we did? Because I'm not. We talked it over, decided it needed to be done sooner or later, and we took care of it. We're not a normal couple, and this has been bloody awkward, but we're doing the best we can. I really do not appreciate you screaming at Taylor like it was all her fault, and not something we decided together. Like it or not she's right, it's no one's business but our own."
I sighed and softened my tone slightly.
"Please, just, go home before you push her past her limits."
"Harry! If that girl is so violent-"
"Mrs. Weasley!" Merlin this was ridiculous. "Taylor is very aware of how dangerous any of us can be with a wand and you were screaming in her face. I'm honestly just relieved she wasn't holding a knife. If anything I shouldn't have let Ron and Hermione pull me away. Cornering her by herself definitely did not help anything."
"Wha- are you implying she thought I was going to attack her?!" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Yes." Molly sputtered but I pushed on. "She trusts me because the marriage vows mean I can't hurt her. But you, Dumbledore, the rest of the Order? She's just waiting for one of you to try and obliviate her then dump her in London."
"I would never!"
"But Snape would. And Dumbledore trusts Snape. And the Order follows Dumbledore." I spread my arms and shrugged. "I can tell her all day the rest of the order isn't like that. But she doesn't know any of you, and as she keeps pointing out I don't know most of them either."
Mrs. Weasley made a few more half hearted protests, but she did eventually agree to leave, and she left firm instructions that Ron and Hermione floo home for dinner.
Plodding up the stairs in search of my errant wife I followed a small arrow made of fireflies into the library where Taylor was stabbing at three square inches of thin gray cloth with a knife.
"Their silk is good." Taylor said without looking up from her experiment. "Not the best, maybe not quite as good as black widow silk. But it's pretty close. Maybe I should make my costume thicker this time. An extra layer or two should do the trick and I'll definitely appreciate it being thicker come winter, though it's still silk. I might need more layers over it if I really want to be prepared for the cold. I still want to test how well this defends against spells…"
Walking over I poked her in the side.
"What?" She asked.
I rolled my eyes. "There is no way, you went from screaming match to calm that quickly. I can hear your swarm going nuts."
She scowled. "What do you want me to say, Harry? You like that woman for some reason and she's your friend's mother. Do you really want to listen to me rant about her, especially when Ron is right there?" She waved behind me.
Turning I caught Ron looking torn as he ran a hand through his hair.
"No, not really, but are you at least alright?" I pressed.
"I'm fine." Taylor snapped.
I raised an eyebrow and waited. Taylor glared. Finally with a huff she turned and stabbed her swatch of silk one last time before putting away her knife and sitting in a desk chair.
"I fucking hate this. I used to give orders and grown men would hop to it because I was the boss and they knew it, they respected me. And that nosey housewife wants to butt into my business and act like she can dictate my life? Like she can judge me?" She shook her head. "To hell with that."
"What's your issue with her being a housewife anyway?" I asked. I couldn't really do anything about most of that statement and she'd slung the word housewife like a curse repeatedly now, so I was genuinely curious.
Taylor looked at me like she thought I was crazy. "Every witch or wizard carries a wand. You spend seven years learning to use it. With a bit of effort you can learn to do anything. You can raise buildings in days, enchant objects so they carry an effect for years or lifetimes. You can heal, and repair, and build, and fight. You can be anything!"
Taylor snarled. "And instead she chooses to do none of those things! She stays home, lets her husband work hard to pay for everything, and raises a small army of kids. And fine, maybe that's her ideal life, but I can't even imagine being that dependent on someone. What if something happened to Mr. Weasely? What the hell would she even do when she hasn't worked, in what, more than twenty years? And she thinks that she can go straight from running a household and chasing after kids to jumping into a small war?"
Taylor turned and faced Ron. "Has she done anything at all to prepare? Has she sparred with anyone? Taken up jogging, drilled some combat spells? Even just practiced her aim?"
Ron sighed and dropped into a plush armchair. Which seemed like a great idea so I plopped onto a fainting couch. Hermione just settled leaning against a bookshelf.
"No, Mum's not done anything like that. She worries a lot, but that's not really helpful." Ron admitted.
Taylor gestured to Ron while looking at me.
"Figured. That's my problem with her being a housewife. She knows, from past experience, that this is going to be ugly, and dangerous, but she's not taking it seriously. She's getting hung up on our personal issues and making them her business when she should be training herself. She should be making sure Ron and Ginny can cast a shield, and know at least a few lethal spells. Or if she really wants to be responsible, taking any family not considered a legal adult and running for another country where they would be safe."
Hermione and Ron winced. I chewed that one over, if I had kids and this was starting up… my parents had stayed, fought, and decided to have me in the middle of a war. That ended with them dead, and me at the Dursleys. What would I have done to the staff at Hogwarts if I was a parent and half of what we went through happened to my kid? Yeah someone needed to stand up to the Dark tosser, but… Prophecy made this my problem. Ron and Hermione, they'd see this through with me for my sake, and their own reasons. Taylor, she didn't seem capable of backing down from a fight like this. But Mrs. Weasley wasn't a fighter. Was it just the fact that most of her adult kids lived here and three joined the order?
Taylor shook her head. "Forget that. I've got enough weavers now that I can start working on something simple and generic for the order, and I'll start adding sleeves to the dragon hide vests you bought for all of us. It'll make a good basis for my new costume. How was the shopping trip?"
I was not at all ready to start dissecting the thought that good parents should be fleeing the country with their children so I took the out and told her about our run in with Malfoy while robe shopping. Then about the twins' new shop and some of their inventions. She was particularly interested in the darkness powder and I passed her their mail order catalog which I'd grabbed for just that reason. Finally I told her about how we tailed Draco into Knockturn Alley, saw him bully a shopkeeper about holding some items for him, and laid out my suspicions that he'd taken the Mark.
"Honestly, Harry. Why would Voldemort mark school children? Surely he wants fully trained witches and wizards." Hermione sighed from the lounge chair she'd moved to at some point in the retelling.
"Yeah, mate, Malfoy's a right git, but a Death Eater?" Ron shook his head.
I turned back to Taylor worried that she was going to dismiss me as well, but her face was painted with a small frown as she looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione.
"Are you two-" then she paused obviously thinking. "No… you two… you've butted heads with bigots at school but they've never been the enemy the way adults have. And everyone's kept their head down since the Lich's first death."
"Taylor?" I prompted.
She shook her head. "This is how the neo nazi's recruited back home. You start with a kid that's been raised on the ideology, who believes all that bullshit they spew because they've been hearing it all their life. Then you tell them to find more followers. They talk it up to the people who were raised the same way. Then they spread out. People who's future prospects aren't so great, people who are angry at someone who fits their idea of an undesirable. And then they act like a friend. They're understanding. It's not your fault life is shit, it's those people out to ruin things for honest Americans."
Taylor scowled at nothing, looking utterly disgusted.
"And then they tell the prospective recruit not to worry, they know people who can help. They know people who would understand. They can set you up with a job after highschool, you could make a difference. But they might need some help with something, nothing too bad of course! Not even illegal! But then you're buddies, and they might ask for another favor and another and all the while they whisper their toxic ideology until suddenly they're taking that recruit to rallies, and then the recruit looks around and realizes they don't have any friends outside the gang. And it wouldn't be so bad to join up right? After all, they're fighting for what's right, aren't they?"
Ron and Hermione looked positively sick at this point. I doubted I looked much better,
"I got a front row seat for that a few times. Though I was kind of preoccupied with my own issues. Dad warned me about it too. But beyond that Harry and Dumbledore are both at Hogwarts. The Litch is going to have people there even if their only job is to report on you and the Headmaster. If the Litch is smart he'll want a second set of eyes to confirm all of Snape's reports."
"So you believe me?" I asked. Honestly after Ron and Hermione brushed off the idea… It felt really nice to know Taylor was taking me seriously.
"I wouldn't be surprised if it's true, and if he really is marked it won't be too hard to check." Taylor nodded. "Even if he isn't marked he's worth watching, and so are the kids of known Death Eaters or anyone who is friendly with them."
"How do you plan to check?" I asked, getting excited now.
Taylor blinked at me. "Harry, you have a wand. And the mark is inked into his arm… vanish his sleeve, or stun him and roll it up to check. If I had to I could set a few doxies to spy on him and wait for him to take his shirt off. Their eyesight is good enough for that."
I took a moment, buried my face in my hands, and bounced my head off the fainting couch, repeatedly. That was so obvious. Honestly I need to do better.
"We can't just assault Malfoy on suspicion." Hermione protested.
"Oh yes we can." I countered, snapping up to glare at her. "If he's a Death Eater he's a threat to the entire school. Once, just once, I'd like to cut off a problem before it bites me in the arse! If all that takes is vanishing the sleeve of his robe during dinner I say we do it!"
"Something slightly more subtle than that might be better." Taylor countered with an amused smirk. "But I agree. Dumbledore and the order are too passive. If this is something we can actually do on our own? I say we go for it. And if he is a Death Eater? He probably doesn't know a lot but any new information would be useful."
"Right." I rubbed my eyes. "Can't interrogate him if the aurors sweep in and take him immediately."
"That's their job!" Hermione protested.
"And they can have him after we've had our turn." Taylor waved her off. "It's not like they would keep us in the loop if we asked nicely. Though if we do it that way we'll have to obliviate that bit from Malfo's mind. They'd probably object to vigilantism."
"I don't know, mate." Ron said, looking nervous. "Shouldn't we leave all that to Dumbledore and the aurors? I mean catching Malfoy if he is one sure but…"
"Yes, thank you, Ron!" Hermione nodded furiously. "What would we even do with whatever Malfoy could tell us that the aurors and the order can't already do themselves?"
Taylor gave Hermione such a look thay Hermione shrank back a little.
"These people are trying to kill us, and then turn this country into an inbreeding eugenics program." Taylor said. "The government is compromised, and failed to stop him last time. The order is taking Harry and I a bit more seriously, but Dumbledore is still trying to placate us without actually answering the big questions. We need real information. How many people has he recruited, what moles does he have at the ministry, long term plans, anything we can learn could keep us alive or let us plan a real attack."
Hermione bit her lip.
Taylor glanced my way. "I asked Dumbledore about those lessons of yours. It sounds like he plans to focus on the Litch, not fighting."
And if that wasn't a slap in the face I don't know what is. Sure, I'm not bad in a duel, but Voldemort has decades of experience and knowledge I don't. I'd need all the help I could get to kill him. I was counting on lessons from Dumbledore to close that gap some, but if he wasn't going to train me…
Taylor paused. "Draco might make a good test."
I caught on faster this time. "For Dumbledore, and the new Minister. Hand Draco over after finding out what he knows and see what they do."
"Exactly." Taylor nodded.
"Snape will hate that." I said gleefully.
"I hadn't thought of that, you think he might break cover to try and rescue Malfoy?" Taylor frowned. "Or would that be maintaining his cover if he really is on our side?"
"I dunno, but it won't hurt to prepare in case he does try something. Honestly if he looks like he's going to run I say we stun him and see if truth serum will finally drag some real answers out of him. At least then we'll be sure what side he's on."
Ron groaned and buried his head in his hands.
"You two are going barmy cooped up here by yourselves." He declared firmly. "It's Draco! He's a slimy git sure, but a Death Eater? And Merlin's balls, not trusting Dumbledore? Not trusting Snape, sure, but Dumbledore? Harry, what's gotten into you?"
I had to stop and really consider that question. A year ago I'd have never thought like this. But after last year? And then Taylor, asking questions about everything. Not trusting anyone. Yeah she was rubbing off on me, and maybe that wasn't entirely a good thing. But…
"I'm taking this seriously. We need to be a little paranoid, and to practice, luck is not good enough. And Dumbledore, I don't know, mate, he knew how Voldemort survived, and he didn't tell anyone. He had reasons, but they weren't good ones. Especially not for something this important." I shot Taylor a look. "Taylor's given me a few kicks in the arse I reckon I needed."
Taylor huffed, but there was a ghost of a smile on her face. "I suppose having you here to tell me when to dial things back is something I needed too. After the way everything spiraled before I ended up here… I'd have probably abducted a few Death Eaters from Nocturne Alley by now and then gotten rid of the bodies without telling anyone anything if you weren't constantly telling me to be patient and work with people. They'd probably be trying to set ambushes for me by now if I'd run off like that."
Hermione sputtered. "You mean to tell me that this is you being restrained?!"
I burst out laughing and didn't even stop when Taylor chucked a decrepit looking throw pillow at my head.