HPF371-380

Chapter 371

The three were up reasonably early the

next morning. And, though they felt they

had definitely earned a sleep-in even if it

was a school day, they knew they needed

to be in the Great Hall for breakfast. They

needed to be there to assure everyone all

was well.

As they walked into the Hall, the noise

dipped only momentarily, before rising to

it's normal levels. And they walked over to

join Luna sitting in the middle of the

Ravenclaw table. On the way, they made

sure the Headmistress was aware of their

presence.

All three were still, pretty much,

exhausted. But they also knew a good

feed for breakfast often lifted energy

levels again. Though, not wanting to eat

much just yet, Harry decided to grab a

small bowl and partially fill it with

porridge, a tablespoon of diced fruit, and

milk.

Looking up at the head table as he ate,

Harry could see the senior staff looked as

tired as he felt.

"You did something really big, last night;

didn't you?" asked Luna.

Hermione snorted a little before she

calmly said, "Yes, Luna; we did."

"What did you do?" she asked.

"Something that will make everyone...

well, nearly everyone... very happy,"

replied Daphne. "I'm sure the

Headmistress will make an announcement

about it in a few minutes."

"Oh, have you managed to rid the castle

of the nests of Blibbering Humdingers?"

she asked.

"Something even better, dear Luna,"

replied Harry. "Now, hush. You don't want

to spoil the surprise."

A few moments later, one of the

Ravenclaws in their year, Michael Corner,

leaned over and asked, "You're not still

contagious, are you?"

"I... what?" asked a confused Hermione.

"Contagious? What're you talking about?"

"Well, the three of you were off sick,

yesterday; right?" he replied. "Supposedly,

it was with something highly contagious.

That's why you spent the day in your

apartment, rather than in the Infirmary."

Daphne gave a little snort but didn't say

anything.

"Michael; no," said Harry. "We weren't

sick. We had... something else we had to

attend to."

"What do you mean?" the boy frowned.

"And, why all three of you?"

"You'll find out before breakfast is over,"

scowled Hermione. "You'll need to wait

for the Headmistress's announcement."

"No hints?" asked Corner. "Not even

a little one?"

Hermione scowled but seemed to think

about it. Eventually, she said, "You think

we were sick? You're not even close!"

"What does that mean?" asked Corner,

clearly completely confused.

Before Hermione could snap at the boy, as

Harry could clearly see she was about to

do, he said, "You have your little clue,

Mister Corner. It is not Hermione's fault

you don't understand it."

When Corner pulled back to tell those

around him what he'd been told, Harry

leaned in to Hermione and quietly said,

"Careful, love. You're tired. And, when

you're tired, you become a little...

waspish."

She sighed and leaned back towards him.

"Sorry," she said. "I just wish McGonagall

would get on with it."

Quickly checking his watch, Harry said,

"Soon. It's just gone 8.00am; so, she'll

stand before the owls are due at 8.15."

When Headmistress McGonagall finally

stood about five minutes later and made

her way to the lectern, the whole Hall was

waiting for her to speak.

With a little clear of her throat,

McGonagall allowed the magics of the

lectern to carry her voice across the Hall.

"Good morning, students," she said.

Once what little noise there was died

down, she continued, "For those who

don't already know, the reason you were

asked to all be here, this morning, was

because I have a very important

announcement to make. Today is a day for

celebrations."

She let that settle into the minds of the

students before she continued. "Last night,

after the evening meal, I was visited in my

office by three of our own. There, they

informed me of the most auspicious news.

"Once they left for the evening, I was able

to confirm their news...

beyond any shadow of a doubt... with

both Madam Bones of the DMLE, and the

Minister himself.

"At a little after 7.00pm last night, while

we were all enjoying the last moments of

our evening meal, the Dark Wizard, Tom

Riddle, otherwise known as the Dark Lord,

Lord Voldemort..." there were only a few

gasps... "... was killed in combat."

It took a moment, but the Hall suddenly

erupted with cheers and shouting of joy.

However, there were a few who either

chose to simply disbelieve the news, or

were very unhappy with it.

Harry could even hear one foolish

Slytherin exclaim, "But, the Dark Lord's

immortal! He can't be killed!" His voice

was almost lost in the din.

After allowing the school body to cheer

for a while, Professor McGonagall then

managed to calm them down enough to

sit down again and listen.

"Quiet!" she snapped to one student who

hadn't gotten the hint already.

When that student, a Gryffindor, finally

calmed down, she gave another little

throat clear and said, "I assure you, all,

that it has been confirmed by many that

Tom Marvolo Riddle is dead. For myself,

this information was confirmed by

Minister Ogden, Madam Amelia Bones of

the DMLE and Unspeakable Croaker of the

Department of Mysteries. They had it

confirmed by experts in necromantic and

soul magics."

She hesitated a moment before she

turned to look directly at Harry, Daphne

and Hermione. "Will the Potters please

come up here and stand before the

student body."

With a groan and sigh, Harry stood;

Daphne and Hermione only a moment

behind him.

Stepping over the bench seating at the

Ravenclaw table, he led his ladies towards

the front of the Hall. Many students were

whispering among themselves as to why.

Professor McGonagall, looking at them

with both pity and kindness and a small

smile, gestured for them to stand

side-by-side in front of the lectern and off

the dais.

"Yesterday," the Headmistress called out.

"Most of you were aware that the Potters

did not attend classes. The reason is

because they were involved in a highly

secret operation, run through the offices

of the Departments of Magical Law

Enforcement and Mysteries. And, yes, that

operation concerned the take-down of

Tom Riddle. They were not even in the

castle, at the time.

Chapter 372

"It is these three students... Mister Harry

Potter, Missus Greengrass-Potter and

Missus Granger-Potter... who faced Dark

Wizard Riddle in combat of magic in the

middle of the atrium at the Ministry of

Magic, and defeated him."

She then stepped away from the lectern

and began to applaud them. In moments

everyone else had joined in a standing

ovation, with lots of cheering and yelling,

from the entire Hall.

Harry had just turned to stare daggers at a

very unconcerned Headmistress, who just

smirked back.

After allowing it to go on for over a minute,

the Headmistress lowered her hands and

stepped back to the lectern. This was the

signal for everyone else to settle down

again. It took about another half-minute

before she, again, had the attention of the

Hall.

"Secondly, classes for today are cancelled;

so you may spend the day in quiet

celebration. Please remember that there

are those in the final weeks of their study

for their OWL and NEWT exams, and give

them the respect to study for those

important examinations in peace."

"Now that we've shown our gratitude to

the Potters," she spoke up. "I think it's

time I allowed the owl mail to be

delivered.

As she stepped away from the lectern, and

gestured for the Potters to return to their

seats, the owls began to stream in through

the owl windows at the peak of the roof

to deliver their loads. Of course, many of

them were carrying copies of the Daily

Prophet to those students who held a

subscription.

Of course, the front page of

the Prophet led with the sensationalist

headline, 'HE'S DEAD!' and opened with

the paragraph, 'Last night, one time hero

of the wizarding world, Mister Harry

Potter (15), again rid us of the Dark Wizard,

Tom Riddle, writes your source of all the

news that's critical to you, Rita Skeeter.'

Reading through it, Harry grumbled until

he reached the third paragraph. "Well," he

scoffed. "Neither of you two ladies even

gets a mention until the third paragraph.

And all the Unspeakables and aurors, that

did most of the work, don't even get a

mention until towards the end."

"The wizarding world needs a hero,

Harry," said Daphne. "Not a whole heap of

them."

Harry, Daphne and Hermione were still

going through the paper to point out all

the inaccuracies to one another when

they were interrupted by a voice opposite.

"Is it true, Potter?" asked the voice. "Did

you really kill the Dar... Riddle?"

Looking up into the face of Justin

Finch-Fletchley, Harry snarked, "No,

Finch-Fletchley. This whole thing has been

one massive great prank... perpetuated by

us, the Ministry, the Daily Prophet and the

staff of Hogwarts... just to prank you.

"Of course it's bloody true, you pillock!

With Hermione and Daphne helping me,

I blew his fucking head off with a reductor

curse, in front of a whole slew of aurors

and Unspeakables!"

He was just about to turn back to reading

over Hermione's shoulder her copy of

the Prophet when he looked back up and

said, "Oh. And, you're welcome. We fixed

your bloody problem; just like you had

the gall to demand I do."

Finch-Fletchley flinched and looked like he

wanted to say something back. Instead, he

just gave a slight nod and walked away.

As the boy walked off, Daphne smacked

him in the back of the head.

"Ow!" he said, glancing accusingly at him.

"What was that for?"

"Try to, at least, be a little gracious of their

thanks," she replied. "It's the best they

can do."

"I'm supposed to be gracious after what

he said to me the other day?" he asked in

disbelief.

"Yes, you are," she firmly replied.

With a little sigh of annoyance he

grumbled, "Fine!"

While sitting apart a little to check out his

mail, Harry noticed a couple of official

letters from the Ministry. Of course,

before he opened them, he checked all of

it for portkeys, potions and the like.

The first he opened was a personal letter

from the Minister. This time it was an

'official' personal thank you from him;

together with a note informing him the

Minister would be paying 'all due care and

attention' towards a more public thanks

from the people of Wizarding Britain. Plus,

an addendum informing him his presence

was not required for that day's emergency

session of the Wizengamot.

The next was a letter from the

Wizengamot Administration Services

informing him of an emergency session of

the Wizengamot being called for that early

afternoon. And that he was required to

attend as a full sitting member. Clearly,

this was the session the Minister had

already excused him from.

He actually didn't want to attend it, as he

felt 'those old blowhards will spend the

whole time telling him what a wonderful

person he was; and he could do without it,

thank you very much.'

His real reason was he wanted to fulfil his

promise to his wives he made the

previous evening, and spend the rest of

the day in bed having wild and passionate

sex.

Thankfully, the swarms of mail he knew

he'd soon be receiving had yet to be sent.

He made a mental note to himself to work

with Dobby to continue to have all that

mail redirected and searched. He had little

doubt the hyperactive little elf would be

responding to most of it in his name.

Once all the mail was out of the way, and

it appeared his two ladies were pretty

much finished with their own mail and

reading the Prophet, he gestured them in

close.

"I think it's time for classes, ladies," he

softly said.

"But, Harry," said Hermione, a little

confused. "Headmistress McGonagall said

today's classes had been cancelled."

"Ah!" he said. "But, I'm talking about our

personal class on... Advanced Sexology, to

be held in the master bedroom of our

apartment in about twenty minutes."

While Hermione blushed quite deeply,

Daphne burst into laughter.

With Harry still grinning at Hermione, and

trying to waggle his eyebrows thinking it

was in a seductive manner, Daphne wiped

her mouth of the last remnants of

breakfast and said to Hermione, "Come on,

Hermione-love. I do believe we have... as

Harry suggested... classes to attend. And, I

daresay, there is likely to be plenty of...

practical applications."

"But, I... he..." stuttered Hermione. Harry

just scooped her up by the arm and the

three of them beat a hasty retreat for the

seventh floor.

By the time lunch approached, the three

of them were sprawled over the bed,

naked, and half-dozing.

Chapter 373

What had started as a tender foray into

three-way sex, quickly became a lot more

vigorous in its application. A first time

became a second, quickly followed by a

third. It was only that they were getting

exhausted from all the physical activity

that they finally collapsed.

"I'm getting hungry," muttered Harry.

"Then get up, call for your crazy little elf,

have him set up the dining table in the

common room, and then have him lay on

a lunch for us," suggested Daphne.

"Why do I have to be the one to get up?"

he whined.

"Because you're the one who said they

were hungry," said Hermione.

"And you're not?" he asked.

"I am," she calmly replied. "However,

you're the one who mentioned it first."

"Harry," said Daphne. "I'm hungry now,

too. Get up and organise lunch for us."

"Hey, aren't I supposed to be the man of

the house?" he whined. "Why can't I order

you..."

While Harry was whining with his version

of logic, Daphne calmly reached for her

wand in Harry's cubbyhole in the head of

the bed.

The next thing he knew he was hit with a

Depulso charm and sent flying off the foot

of the bed. He landed on the floor with a

thump.

"Oh, good," said Hermione, in a chipper

but tired voice. "You're up."

Both wives snickered as Harry groaned

and climbed to his feet to glare at them.

"Somehow, I don't think that's what

the banishing charm was designed for," he

snarled.

"Oh?" asked Daphne. "Mother tells me

she's used it that way on father a few

times now. Where did you think I got the

idea from?"

As both wives snickered again, Harry

began snatching up clothes left strewn on

the floor and angrily pulled them on while

grumbling to himself.

Only wearing pants and a shirt, he

stormed out of the room into the common

room.

Forcing himself to take a couple of deep

breaths first so he wouldn't appear angry

at the elf, he called, "Dobby."

The little elf immediately arrived with a

pop. "Yes, Master Harry?"

"We'll be having lunch in here, today,

Dobs," said Harry. "Can you set things up

so we can sit down for lunch in about... a

half hour? Something light, please."

"Yes, Master Harry," replied Dobby, before

he popped away again.

Walking back into the bedroom, Harry

looked at both his wives, still sprawled on

the bed, and said, "Lunch will be light, and

in about half an hour. Since I was so

rudely flung out of my own bed, I'm going

for a shower."

"A shower sounds good," chirped

Hermione. "I reek of sex." A moment later,

she said, "I can still taste Daphne on my

lips."

Already stripped back off again, Harry had

a most evil thought.

Turning to his wives and the bed, he

wandlessly and incantlessly summoned his

wand to his hand. Then he turned it on

Hermione.

A quick incantless total body petrifying

charm, followed by incantless silencing

and body levitation charms, and he had

the girl off the bed and following him in

through the door and into the shower. He

stood her, frozen, in the shower stall

before going back for Daphne.

He was surprised to discover Daphne

hadn't even noticed her sister wife had

disappeared. He hit her with the same

three charms and soon had her in the

shower stall, as well. Both were propped

against the wall.

He grinned at them both before

immediately turning the shower on cold,

then releasing the petrification charms

and jumping back, out of the way.

Both girls immediately screeched and

screamed, and tried to stop themselves

collapsing to the floor of the shower in a

tangle of naked arms and legs as they

were drenched with near freezing shower

water.

Howling with laughter, Harry had backed

off to the wall near the door and was

leaning against it, watching their antics as

they screamed threats of dire harm at

him.

A few seconds later, one of them managed

to at least turn the hot water on to stop

them half-freezing to death.

Once the water had warmed up to a

suitable temperature, and the girls

weren't yelling at him anymore, he calmly

walked into the enlarged shower to join

them.

"Since you've finally decided to join us,

you can start by washing my back," huffed

Daphne, dumping her wash cloth into his

hand and turning around.

Now that the fun was over, he was happy

to .

Once they'd finished their shower and

were suitably attired in casual wear, the

three of them walked out of their

bedroom and into the common room well

after the original half hour Harry had set

Dobby. There, they found Luna, Blaise,

Tracey and Draco chowing down

on their lunch.

"Hey, that was supposed to be ours!"

complained Harry.

"You weren't here, and it was going to

waste," said Draco with a sniff as he ate a

combined fruit and cheese plate with

water crackers.

"Thankfully, at least someone asked

Dobby to enlarge the table first," said

Hermione.

Where she'd expected their usual round

table set for three, was the rectangular

table set for eight.

As they walked over, Dobby popped more

food on the table for them.

As the three sat down, Harry asked, "What

brings you four to unexpectedly visit?"

"We came up to find out the truth, rather

than what was written in the Prophet,"

said Draco. "Luna was already here and let

us in."

As the three looked to Luna, she calmly

said, "I came up to see if you were

finished having sex yet, and wanted to ask

if you'd provide an interview for the

Quibbler."

That caused Draco to cough up what was

in his mouth across the table.

Blaise and Tracey, sitting opposite,

immediately pulled a face as Tracey

exclaimed, "Eww!"

Blaise drew his wand with a disgusted

expression on his face and vanished the

mess.

"Sorry," coughed Draco, as he reached for

a goblet of pumpkin juice, taking a huge

swig. "Wrong hole."

Luna simply sat there with a knowing

smirk on her face.

"If you must know, Luna; we were...

ensuring the strength of our bond,"

muttered Hermione.

"Is that why you were screaming those

nasty words from the shower?" she

innocently asked. "You'll have to tell me

what some of them mean, later."

Trying not to laugh, Harry blushed and

coughed. "Hermione and Daphne did not

appreciate the nuance of a sudden cold

shower. Especially when it's so...

unexpected."

"And why would they..." began Blaise,

before he suddenly waved his hand as if

swatting them away. "No. Don't tell me. I

really don't want to know."

Hermione gave a bit of a haughty sniff and

said, "Harry got a bit miffed when Daphne

used a banishing charm to toss his bum

out of bed. He retaliated by using

petrification and levitation charms on us

and put us in the shower, before turning

the cold water full on. Only then did he

release the petrifications."

"Oh," said Luna, as the three Slytherins

grinned. "Yes. That would do it."

"Anyway," said Harry, as the three

Slytherins grinned. "In answer to your

request, Luna; I think we'd be happy to

provide an interview for the Quibbler.

However, if I remember correctly, the

Minister will be dropping by some time

after about 4.00pm. I suspect there will be

quite a few people with him, including the

press. You're more than welcome to join

us."

"Thank you, Harry. That would be nice,"

replied Luna.

"Actually, we should probably discuss that

with the Headmistress, before the

Minister and his... entourage get here,"

said Hermione. "We don't know, for sure,

that she knows."

"You should probably ask her if you can

have the Great Hall reconfigured for his

visit, too," suggested Draco. "If the

Minister intends for you to give an

interview, there'll be a lot of people

coming. He'll want everyone there to

witness it."

Harry just kept eating, glared at his cousin

and muttered dark thoughts as he ate.

"Hey!" said Draco, a bit affronted by what

he thought was an attack on him when he

heard some of the imprecations.

"You're the one that went out and decided

to kill the Dark Lord. What did you

expect?"

"To be left alone now I've gotten rid of the

problem for them?" Harry asked a little

irritated. "After all, everyone's been saying

I should go and do it; so, we did. Is it too

much to ask they leave me alone, now?"

"In order: that's never going to happen,

just because they said you should doesn't

mean you had to, and yes," said Blaise,

ticking them off on his fingers. "You've up

and made yourself a hero, again. What

happened at breakfast this morning is only

the very tip of what's about to befall you.

And, by being with you, Daphne and

Hermione."

"Damn it," growled Harry. "All I've ever

really wanted is to be left to grow up

happy and healthy; marry; raise a family;

have lots of grandchildren I can spoil...

Now, I'm once more touted as the hero of

the wizarding world. I'm never going to

get a moment's peace each time I step

outside our wards."

"Too bad," said Tracey, a little angry at him.

"You're alive; you beat him; you have two

lovely wives, who are going to spend the

better part of their lives making you happy;

you're going to have plenty of children

and, through them, those grandchildren.

Be happy with that."

"You've been sheltered from your fame

pretty much all your life, Harry," said

Draco, gently. "That, at least, was

something to be thankful to Dumbledore

about; irrespective of the rest of his

manipulations.

"However, now you have to get used to it

coming at you, directly. This time, you

can't be hidden away. And, the Harry

Potter I know wouldn't do it. The Harry

Potter I know is more than capable of

being able to face the surge coming at him,

and will bear it with dignity and nobility."

Staring at his cousin in shock and a little

awe, Harry softly exclaimed, "Damn,

Draco!"

Chapter 374

After the talk settled down to more

mundane tasks, such as the upcoming

OWL examinations, it was a while before

the seven of them were joined by Neville,

Hannah and Susan, who all entered

together.

The table was expanded by Dobby, who

then brought in butterbeers for everyone.

"That leaves the only ones of our friends

missing as the twins and Horace," said

Harry. He turned to the Slytherins and

asked, where is he, by the way? I'd've

thought, now that the dark tosser's dead,

he might feel he could rejoin us."

After glancing between themselves for a

few moments, Blaise said, "Ummm...

Horace's father was killed last night. He's

already gone home. As a sixth year, he

doesn't need to worry about OWL or

NEWT exams."

"Ahh... crap!" sighed Harry. "Where was

he? I thought the Ministry people had

done a damn good job of taking them all

alive."

"Apparently, his father was one of the

ones who joined Riddle in going to the

Dee-oh-Emm," said Draco. "He was killed

in the atrium."

Harry sighed again and said, "That meant

he was both a member of Riddle's Inner

Circle, and one of his most trusted."

"Again... apparently, he was," nodded

Blaise.

As silence descended into the now

uncomfortable situation, Neville suddenly

asked, "Where did you disappear to in

such a rush this morning, Potters?"

"They came back here to have sex," said

Luna.

While Neville gaped back at her in shock,

Harry saw the expression and began to

chuckle. Susan and Hannah had both

instantly blushed and refused to look at

anyone.

Finally, Harry managed to get Neville's

attention. "She says things like that just to

shock you, Neville," he giggled.

"Sh-she... does?" asked the boy in a

slightly squeaky strained voice.

"She does," grinned Harry.

"But, it makes it no less true," said Luna.

"They did come back here to have sex."

"Luna, stop it!" Hermione scowled at her.

Her expression changed a little to a slight

smirk, and she almost haughtily said,

"You're just jealous you weren't invited to

join us."

"True," Luna readily agreed, almost

happily. "From the way I've seen both you

and Daphne walk, sometimes, I think

Harry must have a wonderful broomstick.

That had Draco spray up a mouthful of

butterbeer and proceed to try and cough

his lungs up, Daphne was quietly trying to

smother her giggles, while Hermione

couldn't seem to make up her mind

between glaring daggers at the little

blonde Ravenclaw, and blushing.

With another look of distaste, Blaise drew

his wand yet again and vanished the mess.

"Really, Black," he drawled. "You have no

manners, at all."

After coughing for a while and waving his

hands about, Draco eventually stared at

Luna and snapped, "Stop that!"

Luna just smiled back at him.

Once they had a semi-organised plan to

handle the rest of the afternoon until the

Minister arrived, the group of ten friends

left the apartment and headed for the

Headmistress's office. However, as they

descended the stairs towards the third

floor, they were met by Madam Bones and

two aurors coming up.

"Ah, Mister Potter, ladies, friends," she

said, nodding to each in turn.

"Madam Bones," smiled Harry. "I take it

you're here to give us advanced notice of

what the Minister's up to?"

The smile on her face confirmed his belief.

"Indeed, Mister Potter," she smiled. "Shall

we head for that wonderful conference

room you showed us, before?"

"Why not," he shrugged.

And, together, the now group of thirteen

made their way down to the second floor

conference room.

As they walked, she quietly asked him,

"Are you sure you want all your... friends...

to accompany us?"

"They're fine, Ma'am," he said.

"Everything's going to be public soon

enough, anyway. They may as well join

us."

She 'hmmed' and nodded in agreement.

Once everyone walked into the room, no

one felt there was a need to put up

privacy wards or seal the door. With

Dumbledore dead, they felt there was

little risk of being disturbed.

When everyone was sitting down, Madam

Bones pulled out a shrunken package of

notes and returned them to normal size

before placing them on the table in front

of her.

"Alright," she said, causing everyone to

quiet down from their softly spoken quiet

conversations. "Here's what's been going

on since you left the Ministry, last night."

She hesitated a moment before she said,

"Just so you know, two aurors and four

Unspeakables died during the various

battles, last night."

Harry was horrified. He didn't know his

wives reacted in a similar fashion.

Quickly holding up her hand in a stop

gesture before any of the teens could say

anything, she said, "No one... is blaming

you, Mister Potter, for those deaths. The

two aurors and one Unspeakable were

killed when one of the Death Eaters who

accompanied Riddle back to the atrium

cast a wide area asphyxiation curse at

them, before he died. And no one realised

they were in trouble until it was too late.

However, two others were saved by the

Unspeakables' healers, who were able to

get to them in time.

"The other three Unspeakables were killed

on the subsequent attack on Nott Manor.

Two ran afoul of a vicious war ward, and

the other died in the subsequent fighting.

"I only mentioned their deaths because

the Minister will be honouring their

sacrifice when he comes to speak with

you this afternoon. And, I didn't want to

see you surprised by that announcement."

Harry could only nod back.

"Now, whether you like it or not, you and

your wives are heroes, Mister Potter," she

said. "And there would be a massive

outcry from the wizarding public if the

Minister did not suitably award the three

of you for your heroic actions."

"Told you," muttered a grinning Draco.

Harry just flipped him two fingers without

even looking. His attention was on Madam

Bones.

With a twitch of a smile at Harry's gesture,

Madam Bones continued. "The Minister

will be coming here for a major press

conference... and award ceremony... to

commence at 4.00pm.

Chárter 375

"I have already spoken with Headmistress

McGonagall, as has the Minister's

Undersecretary, about setting up the

Great Hall to hold it. I don't think there's

anywhere else in the castle large enough

to seat everyone likely to attend. And the

Minister feels that it would be best to

award you... your award... here, at the

school; rather than summon you to the

Ministry, as he did with your first Order of

Merlin."

With a frown and heightened worry, he

asked, "What do you mean by first Order

of Merlin?"

Realising her slip, and that Harry had

quickly picked up on it, Madam Bones

gave a little wince before she sighed. "I

wasn't supposed to let that slip out of the

bag," she muttered, before firming her

shoulders and looking Harry directly in the

eye. "The Minister is going to award you

a second Order of Merlin, First Class, for

your actions in bringing down the dark

wizard Tom Riddle."

"No, he's bloody not!" Harry snarled as he

surged to his feet. "I told him, last night..."

"CALM... yourself, Mister Potter," she

snapped back, almost yelling the first

word.

With a frustrated sigh, Harry plonked

himself back onto his chair. "I told him..."

he tried again.

"I know what you told him," she

interrupted. "I also remember what

conditions you put on him before you'd

accept it."

"Conditions?" he repeated, a little

confused.

"You said, you would not accept an award

without your wives and everyone else

involved also receiving awards," she

replied. "The Minister agrees. That's why

Missus Daphne Greengrass-Potter and

Missus Hermione Granger-Potter will be

awarded Orders of Merlin, Second Class,

for their actions."

The gasps of shock from his wives and

friends was quite telling. Harry had to

admit, it wasn't something he'd expected,

either.

"After significant interviews held last night

and throughout today, we have gained a

better picture of what you've been up to,"

she said. "We're also aware of the roles

played by Professors Flitwick and Snape in

training the three of you, in secret, for

your eventual confrontation. They, too,

are being awarded. They shall each be

receiving the Medal of Meritorious Service

to Wizarding Britain. It is one step down

from an Order of Merlin, Third Class."

"Professor Snape should be receiving the

Third Class, at a minimum," disagreed

Hermione. "His work as a spy for the light

within Riddle's ranks had his life

constantly at high risk. That he managed

to survive over the past near year is more

to do with his indomitable skills and luck

than anything else."

"The only reason they're not receiving the

Third Class award is because the Minister

felt it would detract from the Order to be

handing them out in what he referred to

as, 'like confetti'. I happen to agree with

him, as does the leadership of the

Ministry.

"And you also need to be aware that,

before Severus Snape became that spy, he

was a fully active and participatory Death

Eater. It is only his work as that spy that

sees him not being sent to Azkaban for his

crimes."

Madam Bones allowed that to settle in for

a few moments, before she continued.

"Both myself and Unspeakable Croaker

have also received awards. However; as

we're employees of the Ministry, and it's

our role and duty to deal with dark

wizards; ours will be Meritorious Service

awards recognising we supposedly went

above and beyond our duty. Like you

obviously do, Harry, we don't believe we

deserve such; but, we're both going to

suck it up and accept them; just as you

will.

"The order of presentation will be: Myself

and Croaker; then Professors Flitwick and

Snape; then both Missuses Potter; and,

finally, yourself.

"You also need to be aware that you will

then be the first wizard or witch in over

three centuries to hold the Order of

Merlin, First Class and bar. The bar

designates the second award of the First

Class. That will also be the cause for much

discussion and debate among the

wizarding populace.

"To keep the presentations as brief as

possible, speeches will be kept to a

minimum. None of the awardees, except

you, will be required to speak other than a

few words of thanks. Even the Minister is

aware of public sentiment, and will keep

his remarks to a bare minimum.

"Immediately after the presentations, the

floor will be open to the press conference.

You will be expected to answer all

questions as honestly and briefly as you

can. To enable this, the Knowledge

Fidelius on the operation has been lifted

as of twelve noon, today. It was the last

thing Croaker and I did before I came to

see you today.

"Now, any questions?"

"How did you manage to get the Minister

not to waffle too much over the

presentations?" asked Hermione.

With an almost predatory grin, Madam

Bones replied, "I told him Headmistress

McGonagall would not let things run past

6.00pm. She'd want the Great Hall back so

it could be reconfigured for the evening

meal. Then I asked her to support that.

"Instead, she set the time limit to 5.45pm.

And berated the Minister like an errant

schoolboy until he agreed."

That elicited quiet chuckles among the

teens. They all knew exactly the tone the

Headmistress would employ, as they'd

been on the receiving end of it often

enough over the years.

The only change Harry was able to get

through as a demand, was he wanted

Draco to be the one who held the case as

he was presented the Order.

After Draco 'Eeped' in shock, then

spluttered about how he wasn't worthy of

such an honour, Harry eventually relented

and chose Sirius, in his stead.

"And, you two?" asked Madam Bones,

turning back to Daphne and Hermione.

"My father," Hermione instantly replied. "I

want my parents here for the presentation,

anyway. And this forces the Ministry to

allow them to come."

"Mine, too," nodded Daphne.

"I expected as much," she slyly smiled. "Be

assured they'll be here."

"Have Professors Flitwick and Snape been

informed?" asked Daphne.

"They have," she replied. "I had just

finished speaking with both before we

bumped into you on the stairs on our way

up to inform you."

After only a few more questions, and the

demand of a promise from Harry he'd go

along with it, Madam Bones and her

aurors left. They still had work to do, and

even Madam Bones grumbled about how

she had to pull out her dress uniform

robes again.

At 3.30pm the Potters were already

dressed and on their way to the

Headmistress's office. An elf had delivered

a message shortly after they'd returned to

the apartment to ask them to be already

dressed in their finest as it was likely

they'd not have opportunity to dress

afterwards.

Chapter 376

As the three walked into the office, the

first thing they saw was all four parents

and Sirius rising to their feet and turning

towards, from where they were sitting in

chairs before the Headmistress's desk.

Both parents hurried over and all three

teens found themselves enveloped in

almost crushing hugs, before being

released and handed to the next parent.

Surprising to the Potters, both Grangers

wore high quality robes. And both wore

the crest of the House of Granger on their

robe breasts on the left to match what

everyone else wore.

Even Headmistress McGonagall wore a

tartan sash with the crest of Clan

McGonagall emblazoned upon it at upper

chest level.

Once the hugs were out of the way, Ant

looked at the three and said, "I've heard

the three of you have already been

berated by Sirius, Matthias, Deece and

Remus. Well, now it's our turn."

Suddenly he reached out and grabbed

Harry by a lapel on his robe and gave him

a bit of a yank. He barked, "What the

bloody hell were you thinking?! You could

have got yourselves killed! Our only

children and you go and do something so

bloody foolish as that!"

Now quite used to being yelled at, while

Hermione and Daphne cringed back a

little from the force of Ant's tirade, Harry

stood firm. When his father-in-law finally

stopped, he intoned, "The one with the

power to vanquish the Dark Lord

approaches. Born to those who have

thrice defied him, born as the seventh

month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark

him as equal, but he will have power the

Dark Lord knows not. And either must die

at the hand of the other for neither can

live while the other survives. The one with

the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will

be born as the seventh month dies.

"That was a prophecy given to Albus

Dumbledore about three months before I

was born. And Riddle very quickly learned

of the first two lines of it. From that

moment on, I was specifically targeted by

Riddle.

"The prophecy was also a true prophecy.

And, because of the line 'either must die

at the hands of the other', only I could kill

him while I still lived. The only way for

someone else to be able to kill him was if

he'd already killed me. And, I was not

willing to allow that to happen.

"I'm sorry it caused you a great deal of

stress and worry. However, it was better

you not know too much in advance of

what was going on. Besides, the Ministry

had already placed all the information

about the operation under a Fidelius

charm; which meant we

physically couldn't tell you, even if we

wanted to."

As the Grangers and Greengrasses relaxed

again, Ant almost whined, "Please don't

go doing something like that, again."

"We have absolutely no intention of doing

so," replied Harry. "I'm done with being

the hero of the wizarding world, thank you

very much. Some else can go hunt bad

guys.

"I've even removed my desire to become

an auror when I graduate off the table. I'll

be quite happy being a gentleman farmer,

or some such, into my dotage."

"I hope you'll consider becoming a

Professor, at some time, Mister Potter,"

said the Headmistress. "I've no doubt I can

use your now prodigious skills in magical

combat in the role of DADA Professor, if

that... tickles your fancy."

Harry thought about that for a few long

moments before he said, "You know, I

think I'd like that... Professor Potter. It's

got a nice ring to it."

"Alliterative, too," smiled Hermione.

Just before everyone sat down, Sirius and

Matthias stepped forward and passed

their wands with a few softly muttered

incantations over the front of the robes of

the bondmates.

When he looked down at the result, Harry

could see the Black crest now sat high on

his right pectoral, and slightly smaller than

the Potter crest. It was joined side-by-side

with the Greengrass crest with the

Granger crest subservient.

On Hermione's robes, she wore the Potter

crest, the same as Harry. But her right

now also had the Black and Granger crests

with a much smaller version of the

Greengrass crest below it. Daphne's had

the Black and Greengrass crests with the

Granger crest in the subservient position.

"Damn, that's a lot of Houses," muttered

Harry.

"As well as being the Head of the House of

Potter, Harry," said Sirius. "You are the

Heir Presumptive of the House of Black;

the Heir Presumptive, through marriage,

of the House of Greengrass; and, since the

birth of their son, an Heir once removed,

through marriage, of the House of

Granger."

"And Daphne's and Hermione's crests

both reflect that, and recognise their

standings as daughters in their own

Houses," added Matthias.

After the initial yelling, then relaxing into a

more familial setting with the combined

families and Professor McGonagall, they

were soon joined by Professors Flitwick

and Snape.

"Hang on," said Harry, turning to Cele.

"Where's Way-err... William?"

She smiled and said, "Winky's looking

after him. She's more than proven she's

capable of caring for him."

"She actually begged us to leave him

behind so she could look after him,"

smiled Ant.

"And, she knows to bring him to us if

something actually does become a

problem," added Cele.

"I'm glad to see you're becoming

accepting of the skills of a house elf,"

smiled Deece to the Grangers. "I actually

think they're more capable of taking care

of an infant that the vast majority of

parents."

Nodding, Harry turned to Professor Snape

and noticed his robes reflected his

position as the Head of House Prince, and

his standing as a Potions Master; just as

Professor Flitwick's had an Heir's crest for

Gringotts and his standing as a Charms

Master. But, Professor Flitwick also wore a

highly polished battle-axe strapped to his

back, in easy reach of his right hand.

Harry took one look at the Potions

Master's expression before he snickered at

him.

"And, just what inconsequential matter

has you so amused, Mister Potter,"

grumbled Snape.

"The expression on your face," replied

Harry. "Mind sharing what your reaction

was, when Madam Bones informed you of

the award you're about to receive?"

The normally dour faced man gave a short

look of distaste before he sneered, "I

know not of what you speak."

That had Professor Flitwick chuckling close

to full blown laughter. "Nonsense,

Severus," he laughed. "I have to say I, for

one, much enjoyed your efforts in

berating our illustrious Madam Bones

about what you felt of the matter. I think

even she was impressed with your diatribe.

I thought, for a moment there, she was

going to stand and applaud you for your

efforts."

"Amelia has never been lacking in the skill

of using, shall we say, colourful

language when it's required," smiled the

Headmistress.

Chapter 377

"Oh, Severus never swore, Headmistress,"

said the Charms Master. "He never even

raised his voice. It was the depth of

emotion, and vituperousness he

employed in voicing his displeasure, that

was almost awe-inspiring."

With a soft smile, Professor McGonagall

murmured, "I'm sure."

Snape merely folded his arm and glared

back, daring anyone to speak of it with

him.

It was only a few minutes later when one

of the castle's house elves popped in to let

them know the Minister and his party had

just entered through the gates.

"Thank you, Dippy," said the Headmistress,

beginning to rise. "Shall we?" she asked,

gesturing towards the door.

Together with Professors Snape and

Flitwick and their families, Harry and his

wives waited off to one side on the dais

that usually held the head table as the

Minister, and far more people than Harry

expected, entered through the main doors

of the Great Hall. They were joined a few

moments later by Astoria, who had been

summoned by the Headmistress to join

them.

The aurors immediately began to sort the

large crowd out towards seating while the

Minister, his Undersecretary, Madam

Bones and Unspeakable Croaker, joined

the awardees and the family off to one

side.

"Everyone's ready?" asked the Minister.

Without waiting for an answer, he rubbed

his hands together and said, "Good,

good."

Madam Bones gave a sigh of annoyance

before she gestured to the seats on the

dais.

This time, sitting on the right were: Newt

Scamander - Order of Merlin, Second Class;

and Orabella Nuttley - Order of Merlin,

Second Class; and ex-Minister Fudge -

Order of Merlin, Third Class. Again, a chair

was set aside for Flophart with his picture

set on the chair.

Harry could see Fudge was expressing his

distaste for having to be seated next to a

framed photograph. But, he had no pity

for the man.

On the other side of the dais was: Madam

Bones, Unspeakable Croaker, Professors

Flitwick and Snape, Hermione, Daphne

and Harry.

Between them, and directly back from the

lectern, was a row of chairs that sat

Minister Ogden, Sirius, Ant, Matthias, and

the Undersecretary. The last four all held

small cases on their laps, with the

Undersecretary holding the largest of all.

The rest of the expanded family sat on the

opposite side of the Hall from the extra

large media contingent, which put them

directly in front of the recipients.

As promised, the Minister only gave a

general overview of the event, referred

everyone to that morning's edition of

the Daily Prophet for what had essentially

transpired and finally indicated for his

Undersecretary to join him.

First, he called up Madam Bones,

presented her with her award and a short

mention of how she'd earned it, and

called for applause. Next was Unspeakable

Croaker, with the same pomp.

The Minister then called up Professor

Flitwick, who assisted by conjuring for

himself a small set of steps, so the

Minister would not need to bend down to

pin the medal to his chest. Then came up

Professor Snape, who banished the steps

as he approached.

Then it was on to the Orders of Merlin.

The Undersecretary, Harry never did learn

the man's name, closed the now empty

case with a snap and returned to his seat.

Hermione was called first and was joined

by her father.

The Minister spoke quite well as to

Hermione's role over the past year and a

half and her role in the final battle; before

then picking up the ribbon supporting the

Order of Merlin, Second Class, medallion,

and lowering it gently over her bowed

head.

As Hermione straightened back up, she

gave her hair a flick to cause it to fall over

the ribbon at her neck, before she shook

the Minister's hand with a wide smile.

Ant then stepped forward and gave her a

quick hug and a peck on the cheek, before

he indicated she should turn and face the

Hall.

Once the applause died down - a little

quickly, Harry thought - she stepped to the

lectern and simply said, "Thank you, to all.

As we have two more of these to get

through, I'll just say we'll answer your

questions during the press conference."

Then she returned to her seat, fingering

the Order medallion, as she did so.

As Daphne was invited by the Minister to

step forward, her father walked forward

holding his own small case.

Again, the Minister spoke about her role,

especially around the final battle, and

picked up the ribbon for the medallion

from the now opened case.

Daphne's actions and words were very

similar to Hermione's, and she was soon

sitting back down.

When Harry was called up, he was already

wearing his original Order of Merlin. As

Sirius stood between them, the Minister

spoke more in-depth of what Harry had

accomplished, brushed on the battle with

the basilisk - which earned him his first

Order of Merlin, First Class - before going

into the final battle. A little uncomfortably,

he even mentioned that the battle was

the result of a prophecy between he and

Riddle; and that the full wording was now

considered a state secret.

Just before the Minister was about to

reach for the new Order of Merlin, he

softly said, "Mister Potter, you will need to

remove your original Order medallion, so I

may hang the new one around your neck."

Harry immediately reached up and

removed it, dropping it into the opened

case held by Sirius, but out of the way of

the Minister picking up the new one.

Then the Minister reached in and drew

the new one out.

Before hanging it around Harry's neck, he

pointed out the long bar on the ribbon,

that signified it as a second award of the

same calibre. "We actually had to delve

back into our records storage before we

had any idea what a second award would

look like," he spoke loud enough for the

gathered to hear.

Then he indicated for Harry to bow his

head, before then hanging the new ribbon

around his neck.

As the final awardee, and with the highest

honour, it was left to Harry to give the

longest speech. And he intended to make

full use of the opportunity.

Stepping up to the lectern after the

applause died down, and both Sirius and

the Minister returned to their chairs, he

withdrew a scroll of parchment from his

robes.

Chapter378

Laying it on the lectern, he gave himself a

few moments to collect his thoughts.

"First, thank you to Minister Ogden, and

the members who graciously agreed to

see me awarded the Order of Merlin, First

Class, for a second time; and my wives,

who also played a significant role in

bringing down Tom Riddle," he began. "I

have no doubt that, without their direct

assistance, I would not have been

successful.

"The same can also be said for the training

we three received from Professors Flitwick

and Snape. I can say that, just about

everything we threw at Tom last night,

was taught to us by them.

"And I also give my sincere thanks to

Department Heads Unspeakable Croaker

and Madam Bones, together with their

people. I have no idea why the Daily

Prophet, and other disreputable media

organisations of the same vein, believed I

could deal with the entire problem on my

own; because, I couldn't see it. It actually

beggars belief by anyone who has a brain

comprising more than two cells that such

could be even remotely successful.

Perhaps they expected me to walk to my

death, and allow someone else to kill the

dork lard. I have no idea."

That caused a bit of irritated grumbling

from the press seats.

"However, that's not what I want to talk to

you about," he continued, ignoring the

press. "What I want to talk to you about is

stopping what happened,

that created 'Lord Voldemort', from ever

happening again."

"Over the past two hundred plus years,"

he began after a slight pause, "Magical

Britain has felt the depredations of no less

than three dark wizards intent on forcing

their rule upon the world. They were, of

course, Tom Riddle, Gellert Grindelwald,

and Malachai Peabody.

"Riddle and Peabody were home-grown

dark wizards; and Grindelwald, even

though he was raised for the most part on

the continent, still had family within our

shores that he spent time with. All three

are, therefore, products of wizarding

society in Magical Britain.

"All three promoted very similar beliefs.

All three promoted blood bigotry at it's

worse. All three preyed on the blood

bigotry of the so-called pureblood

citizenry of Magical Britain as a whole to

further their quests for power.

"Now, I can see you're a little

uncomfortable hearing that. I can see

some of you do not believe it is that great

a problem. A storm in a teacup, so to

speak. However, I can easily prove just

how widespread and insidious the

problem is, just by what you have

witnessed in the last less than an hour.

Blood bigotry was, though subtle, on

display during the awards today.

"The awardees were called up with the,

shall we say, lowest award first;

culminating in the awarding to me of the

highest award; the Order of Merlin, First

Class.

"First called up were Madam Bones and

Unspeakable Croaker for identical awards.

I know that Unspeakable Croaker is a

pureblood, just as I know Madam Bones is

a half blood. And Madam Bones was

called up first. The furthest away from the

awarding of the Orders of Merlin.

"Next was Professors Flitwick and Snape,

also with identical awards. Professor

Flitwick is of mixed breed, while Professor

Snape is a supposed half blood. Professor

Flitwick was called first.

"Third was my wives, Missus Daphne

Greengrass-Potter and Missus Hermione

Granger-Potter. Daphne is a pureblood

and Hermione is a supposed

muggleborn. Hermione was called up first.

"Right there is three examples of those of...

supposedly... better blood being treated

better than others. Once is an accident,

twice is coincidence, three times is

deliberate. And, I daresay, the Minister

and his staff who planned all this and the

order folks were called, had no idea they'd

done it. The bigotry is such an ingrained

part of Magical British society, a great

many of those perpetuating it don't even

realise they're doing it.

"And the annoying thing of all this is,

there's no such thing as a muggleborn, or

a half-blood who has a so-called

muggleborn and a pureblood parent.

"Muggle scientists working in the field of

genetics right around the world all agree

on specific points. One of those is this: If

an identical genetic change occurs

between two diverse people it could have

been an incredible coincidence. The odds

of such are counted in the millions-to-one.

However, it is possible; and they recognise

that.

"If the identical change occurs a third time,

the chance is considered so

astronomically remote as to be considered

as close to impossible as it can get. The

odds are in the many

many trillions-to-one.

"If it occurs a fourth time, then it is

irrefutable proof it wasn't spontaneous.

Instead, it was clearly the result of a

predisposition. Something had to already

exist across the four that triggered that

change.

"Now, consider this: Hogwarts accepts as

students an average of six supposed

muggleborns each year; and that doesn't

include those whose parents decline the

invitation. In every case they demonstrate

the exact same genetic change. They

are all capable of wielding magic in a near

identical form. That form is the exact

same as those who are supposedly

pureblood. And this occurs every year.

"Every year approximately a half dozen

supposed muggleborns walk into this Hall

for the first time. And, out of a total

population of students, those supposed

muggleborns form about one seventh of

the total.

"If you were to take those figures to a

muggle geneticist, and try to convince him

or her that it was the result of spontaneity,

he or she would roar with laughter and

think you were trying to pull a prank on

them. And that's because they know that

the chance of that sort of thing happening

is inconceivably impossible.

"In other words, it's a nonsense. It could

never happen. Not even once. Not in a

million lifetimes.

"However, if you were to consider that

supposed muggleborns are actually the

descendants of magicals, then you start to

see possibility. We move from the realm

of impossibility to the realm of probability.

All those supposed muggleborns could

now have as inherited traits in their

genetic makeup the ability to wield magic

as well as any supposed pureblood.

"So, how do those genetic traits make

their way into the muggle world? Again,

it's simple to explain. And I can explain it

with one word: squibs.

"Since the time the magical world cut

itself off from the muggle world; magicals,

who should know better, have been

sending their squibs into the muggle

world. And, of course, in the muggle world,

they grow to adulthood, marry and have

children.

"These non-magical children of magicals,

and their children and so on, grow and live

with the ability to wield magic in their

very genes, their cells, inert. Then,

sometimes hundreds of years later, or as

soon as a couple of generations along,

that inert ability becomes active in a

newborn. And you have a so-called

muggleborn.

Chapter 379

"Muggleborns are, in reality, the children

of sometimes long lines of squibs.

However, at the very least, they can only

be referred to as half-bloods, due to

breeding with true muggles.

"And Gringotts recognises this. In chatting

with the goblins responsible for

recognising inheritances, they have

informed me it is the policy of the bank to

blood test as many so-called muggleborns

as possible. And the reason is obvious;

they're looking for the children of squibs

of pureblood lineage whose magical

predisposition has become active. And

their interest in doing so is to reactivate

long dormant vaults.

"Where the wizarding world believes a

family line is dead, the goblins know

better. They know the likelihood of the

children of squibs of those lines thought

dead but still being alive, is a near

certainty. But, they're patient.

They know they only have to wait long

enough, and one of those children will

walk through their doors as a so-called

muggleborn. And they'll be able to

reactivate that vault.

"You have storekeepers in the Alley, in

Hogsmeade and in other wizarding towns

who refuse to serve anyone not

considered of pure blood. You have

different, higher, prices for those

considered of poorer blood to those of

known bloodlines. Your own ministry

employs far less so-called muggleborns

and half-bloods than would be the

average. If the hiring practices of the

Ministry was fair, it should currently

employ at least fifteen percent so-called

muggleborns. That it employs less than

one percent, is proof of it's inherent

bigotry.

"You have so-called muggleborns who,

once they graduate these hallowed halls,

find themselves unable to find work in

magical Britain, based solely on their

so-called blood status, and flee to other

shores. Mostly, they head for the United

States and Australia, but they also head

elsewhere. And there, they are welcomed

with open arms; leaving the rest of the

world laughing at us for losing educated,

skilled and capable witches and wizards;

for no other reason than they were seen

as lesser beings.

"Pureblood extremists will cry that

muggleborns are stealing magic. What a

load of hippogriff dung. It's only the magic

within the grandchild of a squib that's

changing from inert to active. It's only the

children of those who you threw out years

ago, activating, and allowing them

to return to the wizarding world. Nothing

less.

"Therefore, blood bigotry is a nonsense

that does nought but harm our society.

And, anyone who actively encourages it, is

an ignorant fool. Tom Riddle, Gelert

Grindelwald, Malachai Peabody, and

almost all those dark wizards and witches

who preceded them over the centuries,

spouted that nonsense as fact; and had

witches and wizards turn their wands on

each other in anger. For what?

"I, for one, am frankly sick of it. So, I make

this promise to you now: If you are unable

to rid yourselves of your bigotry... your

illogical, though often suppressed, hate...

and learn and understand the truth...

there's likely to be yet another dark wizard

or witch in your lifetime. However, next

time, there won't be a Potter there to save

you. You'll have proven

yourselves unworthy of the efforts of the

House of Potter to come to your aid, other

than to support our existing alliances.

"Change; or suffer the consequences."

As Harry rolled his scroll back up and

stepped back, bedlam ensued.

As he sat down, ignoring the shouts

coming from those who had been sitting

to witness the awards, Hermione leaned

over and asked, "I thought you said

muggleborns are the result of magical

souls inhabiting the bodies of muggles."

"They are," he replied. "I just had to get

things moving towards getting rid of the

bigotry; and something like convincing the

populace of the souls theory is harder

than this. It's the unborn physical bodies

of those with the predisposition to handle

a magical soul, that get them.

"If I can get them thinking, we can then

get them considering alternatives."

Leaning over, as she was sitting on the

other side of Hermione, Daphne asked,

"This is the start of the second stage, isn't

it?"

"That it is, my love," he smiled. "That it is."

Once Madam Bones and her aurors got

the crowd under control, the actual press

conference could begin.

However, they first had to move the

lectern out of the way, and replace it with

a shortened version of the head table. It

was when the awardees and the Minister

sat at the table, facing the crowd, that the

crowd finally finished settling down.

Though many were angry at Harry's

remarks.

And that's when the barrage of questions

began.

Many of the questions were more angry

retorts from those who considered

themselves purebloods. However, there

were a few that were asked where the

person asking was clearly considering

what Harry had said.

One questioner asked, "How do we rid

ourselves of, as you believe, our bigotry?"

"That is up to each of you," replied Harry.

"It's not my job to fix your problems for

you. However, I can tell you that bigotry is

often born from a position of ignorance

and fear. You solve both by educating

yourselves to the truth. So, go educate

yourselves. Open your minds. Look around

you without a heart filled with bias and

preconceived notions of what you believe

the truth to be. Question everything.

"Oh, and don't rely on just one source of

information, either. Over the past four and

a half years, since my return to the

wizarding world, according to the Daily

Prophet and the Wizarding Wireless, I've

gone from an ignorant muggle-raised; to a

dark wizard in the making, due to my

ability to speak parseltongue; to a poor

boy targeted for assassination by his

mass-murdering godfather, the same man

sitting only a few places to my right; to an

attention seeking liar, who entered his

own name into the Goblet of Fire; to the

so-called Chosen One, who would save

everybody by facing Riddle in one-on-one

combat killing him for you all.

"And you people continue to turn to that

rag and believe as near-gospel every word

within it. I don't hold a subscription to

the Daily Prophet, because I don't need

any more lining for my owl's roost as I

think that's all it's good for. However, my

wives subscribe so they can see who my

solicitors can next litigate against for

libel."

"What are your plans for the future?"

asked another.

"Pass my OWLs with lots of Outstandings,

relax, enjoy being a married man to the

two most beautiful witches in the world,

and have a decent holiday free of the

threat of a sociopath whose primary

desire is to kill me," he replied.

"And where do you plan to holiday?"

asked someone.

"I've no idea, yet," he replied. "But, I

envision a tropical island with a private

beach, somewhere. My wives and I have

spent so much effort on training up to

face Riddle we've not even had time to

properly enjoy a honeymoon, yet. The

short one we had was in solitude, hiding.

As soon as possible after OWLs are over,

we're off."

"If muggleborns believe they may have a

vault filled with treasures waiting for them

at Gringotts to claim," another grumped,

"I think the goblins are going to be very

unhappy with you. They'll be swamped."

Harry laughed, as did his wives and most

of his family. "That many people coming to

his bank to take blood tests? Besides

being able to claim a payment for the test

for each so-called muggleborn who walks

through their doors and asks for it, the

goblins want those vaults activated.

Inactive vaults make them no gold. No, as

a result I think Warlord Ragnock might

want to adopt me, or something. He's a

nice person; he enjoys a good laugh."

A question to Croaker, "What do you think

of Mister Potter's claims that muggleborns

are actually the descendants of

purebloods through squibs?"

"It would be an interesting research

project," replied Croaker.

"The Unspeakables aren't already looking

in to that?" asked the same.

"The Unspeakables, myself included, do

not speak about what we are currently

researching; or are not researching,"

replied Croaker.

"Will you be offering Mister Potter a job?"

the same questioner pressed.

"The hiring practices of the Department of

Mysteries are confidential," replied

Croaker.

Turning to Harry the same questioner

asked, "What about you, Mister Potter?

Are you looking for a position in the

Department of Mysteries?"

"I've not even sat my OWLs, yet," replied

Harry. "Therefore, I'm not ready to make a

decision as to my future employment

prospects."

"But, would you accept if offered?"

"As with any employment offer, when or if

it finally comes, it would be something I

would first discuss with my wives," he

replied.

Harry could hear Croaker lightly chuckling

from where he sat further along the table.

Obviously the man found the whole thing,

especially Harry's answers, pretty

amusing.

Someone finally asked a question of

someone else. The first was from a witch

in the press area to Hermione. "Missus

Granger-Potter," she asked. "My readers

of Witch Weekly would like to know how

it feels to be a muggleborn married to the

hero of the wizarding world."

"Bully for them," Hermione quietly said.

"Was there a question in there,

somewhere?"

That had her dad snort in amusement as

many of the family grinned or outright

chuckled.

The now flustered witch asked, "Well...

ummm... what's it like, as a muggleborn,

being married to the Boy-Who-Lived, and

now Man-Who-Conquered?"

Harry winced.

"You forgot Slayer-of-Slytherin's-Monster

among those hyphenated nicknames you

folks in the press have made up for him,

and Tri-Wizard Champion," smirked

Hermione. "As to your question; if Harry is

right, then there's no such thing as a

muggleborn. Therefore, your question is

moot. Would you like to reword it?"

Another female journalist apparently

came to the rescue of the well flustered

first. "What's it like being married to...

Harry Potter?"

"Well, as I've never been married to any

other wizard, I've no one to compare it

to," she calmly replied. "However, I can

tell you that Harry is a wonderful husband.

I could not ask for anyone better."

"And you, Missus Greengrass-Potter?"

asked the same witch.

"I think Hermione said it all," replied

Daphne. "And, while we appreciate you

need to ask questions for your nosey...

sorry... loyal readers; you will respect our

familial privacy."

That had Matthias murmur only loud

enough for family to hear, "Good answer!"

Finally, someone asked a question Harry

was near begging for. Someone asked

Snape a question. "Professor Snape,

having assisted in the training of Harry

Potter to face He-Who... Tom Riddle, how

do you feel?"

Harry looked down the table at the

professor, almost in glee, as he waited for

the man to answer.

Apparently considering his words carefully,

Professor Snape took a few moments

before responding. "Having spent a great

deal of time and effort in training th...

Mister Potter and his wives to face Riddle

in combat; as he managed to kill the man,

I feel he performed... adequately.

"As to how I personally feel; I feel

relieved... as, I think, does everyone in

Magical Britain... that Mister Potter

was somehow able to rid us of this

threat."

Looking down the table and watching the

Professor respond, Harry couldn't help but

grin his head off at the man. Snape

refused to look back. Instead, his

expression turned from its

customary slight annoyance,

to mild annoyance.

As backhanded a compliment as it was,

Harry could see the Potions Master was

still annoyed he actually had to say

something nice, in public, about him.

Harry was already considering copying the

memory and sending it with a nice card to

man for his own pensieve. He was even

thinking of tying a nice ribbon around the

phial for delivery and signing the card,

'With love, Harry'.

As the press conference wound down,

Headmistress McGonagall began making

noises and glaring at the Minister. Not

stupid, the Minister finally called a halt to

the press conference and sent those

watching on their way.

As the Hall emptied out, the Minister

turned to Harry and said, "I wish you'd

informed me of your remarks relating to

the muggleborn before you made them

today, Mister Potter. I may have been able

to advise you on how to word them so

they weren't so... inflammatory."

"I wrote and spoke them from the heart,

Minister," replied Harry. "Though I'm not a

politician, I'm not unaware of the

overwhelming support I've gained from

the populace. And, as such, I'm not

adverse to using that to make some

necessary changes."

"I see," said the man, clearly unhappy

with Harry. He then turned to Croaker and

said, "I want to see the Department of

Mysteries investigate Mister Potter's

claims, to see if there is any validity in his

beliefs. I expect to see a report on it."

"It bears investigating," replied Croaker.

"We'll have a report for you as soon as

we're able to fully assess the matter."

With a final nod, the Minister turned and

strode from the Hall. His undersecretary

and a pair of aurors followed him out.

As the Minister left, the Headmistress

came over. "Though I know you think you

know what you're doing, it pays not to

antagonise the Minister... unnecessarily."

"Oh, I think he's going to soon forget

about my remarks, today, Headmistress,"

he smiled. "I don't think he realises, just

yet, that he's going to have to elevate a

so-called muggleborn into the tiers of the

Wizengamot. As a new holder of an Order

of Merlin, Hermione's earned the right to

sit on that body."

Chapter 380

Harry heard Sirius snort in amusement

from behind. "Good one, pup," he

chuckled. "I think you might be right."

Headmistress McGonagall sighed and

pinched the bridge of her nose with one

hand as she hung her head. "Just... clear

off, while I have the Hall configured back

for the evening meal, would you?"

Impudently grinning back, Harry replied,

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And I think we should be heading back to

the Ministry," said Madam Bones. She

gave a little mock salute to the Potters and

the Headmistress before she and Croaker

left with the rest of the aurors in tow.

"I need to get changed," muttered Snape

before he walked away without

acknowledgement.

Professor Flitwick congratulated the

Potters before hurrying after the man.

"Back to our apartment before dinner?"

asked Daphne of the family.

"Yes, please," said Cele. "We've not had a

chance to have a decent look about yet.

This is our first time here."

"And that's once more than almost all

non-magical parents get," said Matthias.

"Sorry, but it's true. Due to the nature of

the wards on the castle and grounds;

muggles, such as yourself...

"No; wait. If Harry's right, you're actually

squibs. If that's the case, depending on

how much, or how little, magic you

actually have, you may or may not be able

to see the castle."

"Is there any way to test them for their

magical strength?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," replied Deece. "But, if it's very very

low, it'll need to be done at Saint Mungo's.

That's something we can organise for one

day when they've a day off work."

"If their magical power is at a reasonably

powerful squib level," pushed Hermione,

"Is it something Madam Pomfrey can

test?"

Deece frowned a little, thinking about

what was asked. "Yes. Possibly."

Harry gave a little snort, knowing what

was coming, stuck a finger into the air and

declared, "To the infirmary!"

Madam Pomfrey stepped back from both

beds, next to each other and with an adult

Granger on each, and lowered her wand.

"Well, sweet Merlin's ghost!" she said,

clearly surprised by what she'd

discovered.

"Well?" asked Hermione, almost hopping

from one foot to the other and back again.

After giving Hermione a look that said

'Watch your tone with me, young lady!',

Madam Pomfrey turned back to the adult

Grangers and said, "They're there. Both of

you have very weak magical cores...

Missus Granger's is a little stronger than

Mister Granger's... but both have a

magical core.

"Neither are at the level of what

we'd commonly refer to as a squib; but,

they're there, nevertheless."

"And just because the magical world does

not think of them as squibs, that they

have a magical core each

means magic thinks of them as squibs,"

stated Harry, quite pleased.

"This is actually quite astonishing," said

Madam Pomfrey, clearly surprised by her

findings. "I really must ask to go and visit

the homes of our muggleborns, and see if

their parents and siblings will allow me to

perform the same test."

"That means Harry's likely right," stated

Matthias.

Harry grinned back. "It would also explain

why magical souls are drawn to particular

so-called muggleborns in the first place.

With both Cele and Ant being squibs, it's

no wonder Hermione and William were

born magicals.

"I daresay you'll find the same with the

parents of the rest of the so-called

muggleborns."

The family left Madam Pomfrey muttering

to herself about the research possibilities

and continued on their trek back to the

Potter Apartment.

As they walked, Daphne and Hermione

showed them all one of the magical

suppression fields, and where the rune

array was located that powered it. That

then led to a discussion between Matthias,

Daphne and Hermione on how it worked.

As they had paused to inspect one of the

rune arrays, Harry called Dobby and told

the little elf they were expecting guests,

and to set up the seating accordingly.

Dobby took one look at the size of the

party, nodded, and popped away again.

Outside their apartment Hermione gave

Professor Whittaker the password, "The

Potters rule!", which replaced the old

password, 'The Headmaster is a

manipulative old coot'.

Inside, they could see Dobby had already

reconfigured the couch seating to take

into account the number of guests. It was

now getting to the point where Harry

recognised the same couches being used

over and over again.

"Harry," said Daphne. "Please entertain

our guests while we go get changed." And

she and Hermione immediately left the

room and walked to the master bedroom

without waiting for him to respond.

As the girls walked in, Cele and Deece

glanced at one another and chased the

girls in, firmly closing the door behind

them.

"Well; ordered about like a house elf,"

huffed Harry.

Matthias and Ant just laughed and Sirius

grinned.

"Get used to it, Harry," said Matthias. "It

means they've become very used to you,

and are starting to assert

their own authority on the marriage."

"But, aren't I supposed to be in charge?"

he asked, confused.

"In public, yes," said Ant as all three men

laughed. "In private, however... let's just

say, sleeping in the bed is far preferable to

sleeping on the couch."

"Either that, or buy yourself a

really, really comfortable couch you can

easily sleep on," added Matthias. "Until

you can accept the wives are in charge at

home, you're going to be spending a lot of

time sleeping on it."

"The ladies know... almost instinctively,

you could say... the Lady of the Manor is in

charge of the home," said Sirius. "And, for

the time being, this apartment is your

home. Therefore, they're in charge inside

this apartment."

"Don't worry, Harry," smiled Matthias.

"You're allowed to be in charge of

everything outside of the home."

"Allowed?" asked Harry.

"Allowed," Ant immediately and firmly

replied, as both other men nodded.