The air tasted strange and Harry was more than a bit nervous as he followed his Head of House into a rather fancy looking haberdashery in an unfamiliar magical district. Everything felt off for some reason that he couldn't place his finger on and it wasn't just because the sun wasn't where he thought it was supposed to be.
"Where are we, Professor?" Harry asked. The boy's hand automatically went to his wand as he scanned the area for threats.
"London," Minerva replied absently. "Ontario," she added with a grin upon seeing his skeptical look. "Canada." Half a heartbeat later at the boy's continued look of incomprehension. The professor made a mental note to make an off handed comment to Ms. Granger about her best friend's lack of geographical knowledge, figuring that would solve the issue without the need for further work on her part.
"Oh." Harry took a few moments to absorb the fact that he'd just made his first trip abroad. "Don't I need permission to leave the country, professor?"
"Normally you would, yes," Minerva agreed. "The fact that you're an orphan gives me a certain amount of . . . leeway, shall we say, when it comes to these things. Do not worry about getting into trouble, Mr. Potter, the situation has been handled."
"I see." The boy considered the matter. "Why didn't you give me permission to visit Hogsmead in third year, professor?" Harry asked curiously.
"It was thought that you had a notorious killer after you and it was reasoned that putting you in a location in which he could easily get to you would not have been in your best interests," Minerva said reasonably. She decided to refrain from mentioning the fact that Albus had forbidden it or the fact that the other children had been permitted to go only over her strenuous objections.
"Oh. I understand, Professor," Harry said.
"Good. Now then, let's be about it, shall we," Minerva's raised her voice, "Andy . . . Andy, are you here?"
"Aunt Minerva?" a woman's voice replied from the back.
"Victoria?" Minerva said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Dad wanted to spend the day with the grandkids and I wanted some freedom from the rotten little monkeys so we worked out a deal that benefitted both of us," the girl replied. "Who's this?" She focused on Harry. "Another relative?"
"One of my students," Minerva replied. "He needs a new wardrobe so I brought him here to get one. I trust that you can accommodate"
"Of course, Aunty Minty," the woman agreed. "Magical or mundane?"
"Both, I want him to be ready for every situation he might encounter. From formal to informal."
"Really!" Harry's danger senses spiked at the look of glee on the woman's face. "Just let me grab the tape." The woman dashed into the back.
"How well do you know her, Professor?" Harry whispered. The eager gleam that had lit the woman's eyes did not inspire confidence.
"I watched her grow up," Minerva replied. "Her father is one of my brothers in law. She's a good girl, just gets a bit excitable at times."
Minerva's niece strode back into the room and flicked her finger towards the front door causing the lock to engage with a loud click. "There," she said, eying Harry in the same manner in which Hedwig eyed a plate full of bacon. "Now no one can disturb us until we've gotten you properly fitted."
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione would never have admitted it, but she was more than a bit nervous to see the mens' reactions as they tried the soup she and Luna had helped make.
"How is it?" Luna asked with her seemingly endless cheer. A slight intake of breath was the only outward sign that she was anxious about the answer.
"Great," one of the firemen replied. "Better than usual anyway."
"Yay!" Luna cheered, bouncing up and down in jubilation and excitement. "Did you hear that, Hermione, they said it was great?"
"Yes, Luna, I heard," Hermione agreed with a smile.
None of the men saw fit to mention that they'd have cheerfully ladled spoons full of bunker oil into their mouths if it would have made the two young girls happy. They had become quite fond of the two children in the short time that they'd started hanging around the shop.
IIIIIIIIII
Minerva took a few moments to examine her student in the latest outfit that her niece had forced upon the poor boy. What had started as a short trip to buy a couple suits and a few casual outfits had quickly turned into an impromptu fashion show with only one model. She'd have felt guilty if not for the obvious joy on her niece's face and the fact that the boy didn't seem to be too put out by the attention he was getting.
"How do you feel Mr. Potter?" Minerva asked carefully, wanting to confirm that the lad wasn't being overwhelmed.
"A bit strange to be wearing a great kilt Professor," Harry replied with a doubtful look on his face, misunderstanding the question. "Are you sure I'm going to need one of these?"
"No," Minerva replied with a suppressed grin. "I am not. I am, however, quite sure that my niece will not allow you to leave without it."
"What should we dress him in next?" the aforementioned woman asked gleefully. "How about a tuxedo, what do you think Aunty Minty, don't you think he'd look good in a tux?" She gave the boy a once over. "Maybe morning attire after that? And then . . . and then . . . well, what wardrobe is complete without a set of tweeds?!" The grin on the woman's face was nothing short of manic. "I'll be right back!" She darted back into the stockroom.
"At least the air on my bits feels nice," Harry muttered too quiet for anyone, but a cat animagus to hear.
Minerva managed to stifle her laughter, but only just.
IIIIIIIIII
Ginny approached her slightly older brother with a worried expression on her face. She hadn't seen him in the company of the other members of the trio for quite some time, come to think of it, she hadn't seen any of the members of the so called 'golden trio' spend any time with each other for at least a week and she was worried about how her brother might be holding up.
"Got a minute, Ron?" she asked.
"What's up, Ginny?" Ron asked. "Is something wrong?"
"You tell me," Ginny sighed.
"What do you mean?" Ron asked with a look of befuddlement on his face.
"You, Harry, and Hermione haven't been spending much time together lately," Ginny explained, "I was worried."
"Hermione's become obsessed with something besides 'Hogwarts a History' and Harry keeps fumbling his casting and accidentally inventing new spells," Ron said with a grin. "Meaning he has to go to extra classes with the Professors."
"Oh . . . so, nothing's wrong then?"
"Nope," Ron said cheerfully. "Not unless you count the new wart on my second toe."
"Oh. So . . ."
"So . . ."
"Care for a game of chess?" Ginny asked.
"You're on," Ron agreed. "I'll even spot you a bishop."
"Hah! A queen," Ginny countered.
"You must be dreaming," Ron laughed. "How about a knight and four pawns."
"Now who's dreaming?" Ginny giggled. "How long has it been since we played a game?"
"Not long enough to forget that you're not nearly as bad as you like to pretend you are," Ron retorted.
IIIIIIIIII
Minerva was beginning to get impatient. Harry had been in the changing room for several minutes and showed no sign of coming out.
"Mr. Potter, is something the matter?" she prompted.
"I'm not coming out!" Harry said stubbornly. "Just give me my clothes and-"
"What did she give you?" Minerva sighed.
"Just some swimwear," her niece said innocently. She flicked her wand and the changing room door popped open. "Oops," she said insincerely.
Harry's eyes bulged when he saw that his near nakedness was being observed by the two older women.
"Akkkk," he choked.
"You thought that was appropriate?" Minerva asked dryly. A flick of her wand closed the curtains.
"Speedos are in," her niece said with a shrug.
"You will not do that again," Minerva said firmly. "Am I understood?"
"Yes, Aunt Minerva."
"Good. You will make your apologies to Mr. Potter after he's had a chance to make himself decent."
IIIIIIIIII
The Engineer watched with a proud grin as the two girls went back to redesign their sketches to include safety valves, with a satisfied smile on his face. That was one catastrophic error down, several dozen more to go.
"Ready to build another model then?" he asked.
"I'd like to try out this new design for a safety first," Luna said brightly.
"Want to make something else explode, do you? he laughed.
"No," Luna said quickly, "I wish to see if it works. The fact that I'm certain it will explode is due to my inexperience rather than my intention and I intend to enjoy that inexperience for as long as it takes to educate it out of myself. Something that will no doubt include a number of large and entertaining explosions," she finished with a wide excited grin.
"Win, win situation then," he agreed. "It works, it works. It doesn't . . ."
"Boom!" Luna giggled, throwing her arms out to mimic her new favorite thing in the world.
They threw together another quick model and set it up to watch the results.
Luna was not disappointed as this model also chose to explode and scatter parts of itself over a large area.
"What happened?" Hermione asked in confusion.
"Can you tell us Luna?" the Engineer asked.
Luna ignored the question in favor of giggling and clapping.
"Luna . . ."
"Hmmm?" Luna looked over. "To be honest, I haven't the faintest. If my calculations were correct, it should have worked."
"It would have if you'd make these small changes." He sketched out a quick diagram. "Do you see."
"I believe so," Luna agreed, "thank you."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry looked at the large pile of clothing with a sense of dawning horror. There was no way . . . she couldn't expect him to . . . why did the universe always seem like it was conspiring against him?
"Do I really need all of that, Professor?" he whispered.
"Do you want to be the one to tell her that you don't?" Minerva asked mildly.
"No, Professor."
"I thought not," Minerva said with a grin.
"Where am I going to put it all?"
"I suppose we could pick you up a charmed trunk before we head back to Hogwarts," Minerva mused.
"More shopping?" Harry asked in dismay.
"Just a bit," Minerva agreed sympathetically. "Buck up, Mr. Potter, Gryffindors don't shrink away from unpleasantness."
"Yes, Professor," Harry agreed grumbly. This was almost worse than fighting Voldemort. At least he could run if things started to turn when going against Voldemort. Maybe he should have let the damned hat sort him into Slytherin after all? He doubted Snape would have bothered to take him out shopping. A thought crossed his mind, actually, that would be exactly the sort of thing the bastard would do if he found out how unpleasant he'd found the whole experience. He shuddered at the thought of having to go out shopping with Snape every week, having to endure the unpleasantness of shopping combined with the man's snide comments and smug enjoyment of his discomfort. Harry sighed, some days he just couldn't win.
IIIIIIIIII
Luna mentally went over one of the conversations she'd had with Hermione. She wasn't sure but there was something about it that was bothering her. In a flash she had it. Now how to bring it up without jeopardizing her newfound friendship with the other girl? Best just be direct about it, Luna decided. No point in beating around the bush.
"Hmmm." Luna looked over at her friend. "Hermione?"
"What is it Luna?" Hermione looked up from the drafting table.
"You mentioned that you were planning to have Harry spend a portion of the winter holiday with you?" Luna began slowly.
"Uh huh," Hermione agreed, "why?"
"Does Harry know?" Luna asked. "I ask because I don't recall you telling me that you asked him over, just that you were planning to."
Luna could clearly see Hermione freeze like the statues she plays hide and seek with. "Oh bugger," Hermione moaned. The girl had a stricken look on her face. "What if he already has plans?"
"Did he tell you he had any?" Luna asked.
"No," Hermione admitted.
"Has he ever had any plans before?"
"Well no, but-"
"Then I wouldn't worry about it," Luna said cheerfully.
"But this year might be different," Hermione cried. "I can't believe I forgot."
"Just be sure to ask him when he gets back," Luna said soothingly. "Everything will be fine Hermione."
"Thank you for reminding me, Luna."
"What are friends for, Hermione."
"Luna?"
"Yes, Hermione?"
"Would you like to spend some time at my house over the holiday?" Hermione asked. "It's fine if you'd rather spend time with your father," Hermione added quickly, "I just thought . . ."
"That would be wonderful," Luna squealed, pulling the larger girl into a hug. "Thank you, Hermione." It was so nice to finally have friends she mused, enjoying the warm feeling inspired by the thought.
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione ambushed Harry the moment he walked into the Gryffindor common room. Burdened as the boy was by a large trunk, he didn't have a chance.
"Harry," Hermione squeaked as she stepped into his personal space. "Would you like to visit my house during winter holiday?"
"Is it alright with your parents?" Harry asked on reflex clearly stunned.
"It was their idea."
"Sure," Harry agreed, "thank you." It sounded much better than spending his time off in a drafty castle in the middle of a Scottish winter.
"Great!" The girl cheered. "I'll get to work on our schedules."
"Schedules?" he asked weakly.
"Both study and event," Hermione said excitedly. "It'll be so grand. You'll see, Harry."
'Still better than the Dursleys and still marginally better than a drafty castle,' he mused to himself as he watched his friend dart up the stars to her dorm.
IIIIIIIIII
Minerva was surprised, nay shocked to find the Headmaster waiting for her when she got back to her office.
"May I have a moment, Minerva?" the old man asked without his usual cheerfulness.
"What is it, Albus?"
"I hear that you gave Ms. Granger permission to invite Harry to her house over the winter holiday," Albus began. "Is this true?"
"What if it is?" Minerva challenged. "It's well within my rights to grant permission as his head of house."
"Just because you can do something, doesn't mean that you should."
"A lesson that you would do well to learn yourself," Minerva snipped. "It isn't healthy for children their age to live the sort of life that you've chosen to inflict on poor Mr. Potter."
"Minerva, listen to reason. You must understand that-"
"No you must understand," Minerva interrupted. "You must understand that I am not content to sit idly by while you trample my responsibilities in your obsession with Mr. Potter. I allowed you to place him with those dreadful muggles, I allowed you to keep him confined to the castle, I said nothing when you kept sending him back to those horrible people, I aided you in so many ways that I have no doubt that James and Lily would have hexed me into oblivion if they'd have lived to see what we did to their child. No more Albus, I will not sit by and allow these transgressions to continue any longer."
"Then it seems that we no longer have anything to say to each other on this matter," Albus said sadly when he realized that he really couldn't justify his actions as being what was best for the boy, even to himself. "Good evening, Minerva."
"Good evening, Headmaster."
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione walked down to the engine shed after classes to find Luna already in the shops' small library, immersed in a large book.
"Good afternoon, Luna." Hermione said politely as she examined the stack to determine which book to take down for herself.
"Hmmm?" Luna looked up with a cute expression of bewilderment on her face. "Hermione, come look at this.
"What is it, Luna?"
"It's a Stirling engine!" Luna replied, her face alight with excitement. "They were invented to be a safer alternative to steam engines."
"Not very efficient thought," Hermione mused.
"Not the ones they've built so far," Luna agreed. "But it says here that they're capable of being almost perfectly efficient in theory."
"Yeah," Hermione mumbled thoughtfully. "How are we going to improve it to that point?"
"You mustn't forget the fact that we are witches, Hermione," Luna pointed out. "Meaning we have access to tools and techniques the muggles do not."
"True," Hermione agreed with a slowly growing smile. "Great Idea, Luna. Who knows what we can come up with using solid muggle theory and magical tools?"
"Thank you, Hermione."
IIIIIIIIII
Anne Granger was going over the latest bit of correspondence she'd received from Minerva when the door to the study opened to admit her husband who looked entirely too pleased with himself for anyone's good.
"How was your day, Philip?" she asked.
"Fairly productive," he replied. "Made life difficult for some people, made a bit of money, bought a new string of polo ponies, the usual."
"Oh, you bought some polo ponies?" Anne exclaimed. "Whatever for? Don't we already have a stable full?"
"For Harry's use when he visits," Philip replied. "Not a one of the new ones is a day under eight years old so they all know more about the game than most of the players and each of them was carefully selected for their disposition. I figure he can learn the basics from them before moving on to one of the younger horses if he gets interested in the game."
"Tack?"
"Put an order in yesterday," he said proudly. "Everything should be done by the time the children arrive for the winter holidays."
"Exactly the sort of behavior I expect to see from the decadent commercial class," she sneered. "How many houses could be built with even a fraction of the funds you chose to waste on frivolities?"
"A fair few, I'd say," he admitted. "But better a decadent capitalist then a spoiled blue-blood that's never been a productive member of society, especially one that's chosen to glorify the noble underclass and their so called struggles against their employers," he growled back. "What does someone like you know of an honest day's work. How many of those workers, the ones you pretend to care about, do you think I've helped buy houses with the profits they've made from my orders? The thought never crossed your mind, did it?"
"Uncultured pig," she sighed as she leaned into his embrace.
"Pampered lay-about," he growled as he tightened his grip.
"Unlettered baboon."
"So how was your day?" Philip asked in a normal voice.
"I had a particularly difficult extraction from a particularly difficult patient who was much less important than she thought she was and who should never gotten past my appointment secretary to see me personally that I will be more than delighted to discuss with you later," she huffed. "You know I hate it when you break the mood like that."
"I know it gets you worked up when I do," he agreed with a grin. "But I suppose one can not expect too much from a feckless aristo."
"That's a new one," she moaned in appreciation, "you . . . ohhh yesssssss."
IIIIIIIIII
Luna and Hermione were both getting more and more frustrated as their search of the shops' small library failed to produce much that they'd be able to use in their new engine project.
"It's a shame that we're not in the colonies," Luna sighed. "Or that the biker didn't survive the war."
"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "Wait, what biker?"
"Father used to tell me stories about a man with a flying motorbike that fought Death Eaters, saved the innocent, got seduced by damsels, and did all the usual rot a hero does." Luna explained. "He disappeared at the end of the war so father thinks that he must have been killed in some desperate fight because a man like him would never have allowed the Ministry to enslave-"
"Luna," Hermione interrupted the girl's tale. She was not in the mood to put up with any of her friend's crazy tales at the moment. "Wait, did you say flying motorbike? You did, didn't you?"
"I believe I did, Hermione." Luna paused. "But perhaps I didn't." She scratched her chin. "I suppose either is possible. It's an interesting philosophical question. I think I did therefore I did, I think I did not therefore I did not even thought I did?"
"Come on." Hermione grabbed the other girl by the wrist and began dragging her towards the castle. "We need to talk to someone."
"We do? Alright, if you say so, Hermione." Luna happily trailed behind the other girl, content to wait to find out when she found out.
IIIIIIIIII
It had to be one of the most awkward staff meeting that Albus Dumbledore had ever been in, let alone chaired. Half his staff was glaring at the other half of his staff and while it was far from unusual for them to swap glares with his potions master, they usually had much better relations with each other.
"Look at that," he said suddenly. It took everything the Headmaster had not to wilt when the glares shifted to him. "I'm afraid I must be going. I'm needed elsewhere to . . . . handle . . . something vitally important at the Ministry," he said suddenly. "Minerva, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to direct the rest of the meeting."
"Of course, Headmaster."
"Goodbye all," Dumbledore said as he rushed out of the room. He did not go to the Ministry.
"Well then," Minerva said after her superior had left the room. "I think it's time we got down to business?"
"I have better things to do then to sit here with all of you," Snape announced before standing up and sweeping out of the room.
"I still think he enchants his robes to get them to do that," Minerva muttered. "Back to the matter at hand, what's got all of you in such a snit?"
"We're sick of it," Sinistra growled. "Don't think for a moment that we're willing to stand for it even a second longer."
"Stand for what?" Minerva asked with a frown, honestly mystified.
"The way you've all got exciting research projects with Harry Potter and we don't," Professor Babbling explained hotly. "We want to be a part of it as well, we're tired of being left behind and we won't stand for it any longer."
"Yeah," Vector agreed. "We want a chance to show what we can do. Just because we teach electives doesn't mean we don't deserve research projects that will revolutionize magic as we know it and inspire future generations with our discoveries!"
"He doesn't even take Runes or Ar-"
"But he does do Quidditch," Hooch interrupted,."Don't think there aren't things I can teach him about how to handle a broom."
"Don't be vulgar, Rolanda." Sinistra giggled. "At least not while he's still a student."
"Now who's being vulgar, Aurora?" Hooch retorted. "That's not remotely what I meant and you know it."
"Why don't we get back to the issue at hand?" Minerva fighting to bring some semblance of order back into the meeting. "All those interested in taking ownership of some portion of Mr. Potter's free time, please raise your hand." Everyone at the table raised a hand. "Alright. I propose we wait for Mr. Potter to make another mistake and assign him to someone based on that."
"What if he doesn't? Or what if we teach a subject which is unlikely to be related to one of his mistakes such as astronomy or runes?"
"He's bound to get into some sort of trouble soon," Minerva replied. "We'll just use that as an excuse."
IIIIIIIIII
Luna and Hermione literally ran into their Headmaster when they rounded a corner and collided with the old man.
"Are both you girls alright?" Dumbledore asked with a grandfatherly smile.
"We are, Headmaster." Luna replied after a short inspection of both herself and her companion. "Or rather, we appear to be."
"Excellent." He helped the girls to their feet and turned to leave.
"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione called out, shocking herself with how bold she'd become.
"What is it?"
"May we use the floo to contact someone?"
"I believe that would be permissible," he agreed cheerfully. "Depending of course on exactly whom it is that you would like to contact?"
"Professor Lupin," Hermione said.
"In that case I have no objections and you have my unrestricted permission. You may use the connection in my office if you'd like," he offered.
"Thank you, sir." Hermione smiled at her friend. "Come along, Luna."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Luna chirped before allowing herself to be pulled along.
IIIIIIIIII
Minerva looked around the room to assure herself that everyone was satisfied with the deal they'd worked out.
"It's agreed then?" she asked sternly. "We will all give Mister Potter extra classes during our normal office hours using a schedule to be agreed upon at a later date."
"Point of order, Minerva." Sprout called out. "Will these classes be open to every student that wishes to take them."
"Of course," McGonagall said quickly. "Well, within reason."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Just that there are certain students that I would ban from my normal classes if the Headmaster allowed it and that I have no intention of teaching them in my 'copious amounts' of free time."
"I think that sounds reasonable," Sprout agreed. "Any objections?" There were none. "In that case, I think we've all come to the beginnings of an agreement."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry felt another chill go down his back, a chill he'd last felt when they'd pulled his name out of the cup and forced him into the Triwizard Tournament. Something absolutely horrible had just happened involving him.
"I better ask the Professors if I can have more classes," Harry said regretfully to himself. He'd want to be prepared for whatever Voldemort decided to throw at him. A couple new spells could spell the difference between life and death in his next face off against the dark lord.
IIIIIIIIII
Remus stepped through the fireplace into the Headmaster's office and regarded the girls with a fond smile. Thanks to his condition, the werewolf had accepted the fact that he'd never be able to have children of his own so he regarded Harry and his friends as the closest he'd ever get to having a family.
"What can I do for you two?" he asked.
"Well, it's just that . . . " Hermione dithered. "Harry once mentioned something about Snuffles and I thought that it might be helpful for a project we're doing and you knew him better than anyone else and I was hoping that . . ."
"What it it?" Remus prompted gently.
"We wanted to gather information on a flying motorbike," Luna supplied cheerfully, much more willing to be direct than her friend. "Hermione seems to think you might have some information on it."
"We would also like to examine it if at all possible," Hermione added quickly. "Really, we're happy to get whatever we can though."
"You want to know about Sirius's old bike?" Remus asked in surprise. "I'm not sure what happened to it."
"Oh." Hermione drooped.
"I think his notes are still back at Grimmauld Place," Remus offered. "I could get them for you if you'd like."
"Thank you Remus," Hermione said sweetly.
"Anything for one of Harry's friends," Remus replied. "Where do you want me to deliver it?"
"Do you know where they keep the Hogwarts Express?"
IIIIIIIIII
As promised, Remus delivered Sirius' notes on construction, zen, and the art of the maintenance of magical motorbikes along with a large crate containing a number of mysterious items.
"What's all this?" Hermione asked.
"I found an old Motorcycle that Sirius used as his model and the tools he used to disassemble it," Remus replied, "I'm not sure you want it all though."
"Why not?"
"The motorcycle is in pieces and the tools have to be at least fifteen years old," Remus explained Not to mention the fact that Sirius had probably gotten them used, chances were they were hopelessly out of date by now with the way Muggles were always changing things. "Wanted to make sure you didn't want any of it before I threw it out."
"No!" Hermione said quickly. "It's perfect. Thank you Remus."
"Happy to help." The werewolf grinned. "I'd also be happy to bring you anything else I find like this if you want."
"Please," Hermione agreed.
Hermione decided to do a quick look over Sirius' notes while Luna decided to investigate the parts bin. Two things became quickly apparent as she read over the first couple pages. The first was that Sirius Black had horrible penmanship. The second was the the man was a bloody genius when it came to adapting muggle devices to work on magic.
"Hermione!" Luna called out.
"What is it, Luna?" Hermione reluctantly dragged herself away from her reading material.
"Do you have any idea what this part is?" Luna asked, holding up a shrunken part with an inquisitive look on her face.
"I think that's the frame Luna," Hermione replied after a quick glance at the object in the other girl's hand. "I'm not absolutely positive, but I can't think of anything else it might be."
"Hmmm, just how many frames does a motorcycle have?"
"Just one," Hermione said absently. "Wait, why?"
"Because there are at least six or seven of these frames in the box, Hermione." Luna peered down into the box. "Maybe more under the pile."
"Oh . . . I guess it makes sense that Sirius would want to look at more than one Motorcycle before making his own." Hermione said slowly.
"Do you think Harry would like it if we put them back together?" Luna asked, focusing an intense stare on the other girl while she waited for the answer.