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Angry Harry and the Seven by Sinyk

Hey Guys, this story is written by Sinyk on fanfic net. This is not my work. The only reason I am putting this up is because someone has copied Sinyk's entire work word-for-word on this site (claiming it as his own: Harry Potter and the 7 angers), releasing it at a snail's pace, and is also making money off of it on patreon. Pisses me off to no end. Art is by CruderFive1 on DeviantArt ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Okay, guys and... guyettes, This one is of epic length. And by that I mean really really long. For those who sent me a note about 'Four Heirs' and thought it long - well, this one blows that one out of the water for length. So, if something only up to - say - 150k words is your cup o' tea, then this isn't for you. No sir-ree! This story hits approximately 480k words. To stop all the whining and bitching right now - yeah, like that's ever going to happen - you'll figure out this is a 'Haphne' story; Dumbledore is (somewhat) good but still manipulative as per canon; Ron's an ineffective non-entity; Snape tries to keep sticking his beak in - and get's it repeatedly thwacked with a rolled-up newspaper; McGonagall gets over her hero-worship of DumDum (I mean, Dumbledore); Hermione is a good friend; Sirius is free; kids are kids; and teenagers are walking bags of hormones. The story follows canon a lot; and I've even included many quoted sections out of the books. I didn't do this to pinch JKR's works. Rather, it's in there to demonstrate similarities while being a different story. So, no biatching about that, either. You've been well and truly warned. Yours, Da crazy bastard who thinks he's an author. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Chapter Six – Hogwarts Express

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Six – Hogwarts Express

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-==(oIo)==-

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On the morning of the ride to Hogwarts, Harry was sitting at the informal dining table reading that morning's Daily Prophet and sipping on a mug of coffee. He could hear Daphne calling out to Isabel trying to find this or that, and otherwise being in a frazzled state finalising her packing. Harry's trunk was already packed with everything bar Hedwig's cage stowed inside. His trunk, with Hedwig's cage on top, was sitting ready to go near the floo.

Harry, himself, was already dressed, with his school robes lying on the top layer inside his trunk ready to be taken out and donned. He'd also made a last minute inspection of Hedwig to ensure her health, and would shortly send her winging her way to Hogwarts in advance. He felt it was a better idea than forcing her to endure being caged on the Express.

Cygnus was sitting opposite reading his own copy of the Daily Prophet and sipping on a cup of tea.

Suddenly, Daphne burst in through the door and blurted to Harry, "Harry, there's not enough room in my trunk. Can I put some stuff in yours?"

"Sure, why not," he calmly replied. "You have access to it now. Why not put some of your non school uniform clothes in there. And put the set of uniform you want to change into on the train on top. That way, you wont need to open your trunk on the train."

She thought furiously for a few moments before suddenly launching herself forward and planting a smooch on Harry's cheek. "Thanks, Harry! You're the best!" And dashed back out of the room again.

Harry just sat there a bit stunned. Cygnus saw the expression on his face and snorted in amusement.

"Did she just do what I think she just did?" asked Harry with no small amount of wonder.

"Kissed you? Yeah, she did," replied Cygnus.

"Hunh!" snuffled Harry. "I'll just have to do something nice for her more often, then. If that's how she's going to repay me."

Cygnus chuckled in response.

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-==(oIo)==-

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After Daphne had moved through the Estate like a whirling dervish, she was soon packed and ready to go. As it was a Sunday, Cygnus was able to join them on the trip.

Stepping onto the platform through the barrier, Harry's senses were assaulted by the smell of burning coal, the tang of steam, and the sounds of lots of children and their parents both greeting each other and saying their goodbyes.

Harry had no sooner come to a halt, looking about in wonder, when he was hit by a trolley to the back of his legs from behind. He hadn't moved out of the way of the barrier quickly enough and someone coming through from the other side wasn't able to stop in time before hitting him.

"Sorry," he muttered over his shoulder.

He then followed the Greengrasses further onto the platform; though, walking with a little bit of a limp. He was annoyed with himself for not considering it was likely to happen.

Once away from the barrier he asked Daphne if there was any particular spot where she'd be meeting up with Tracey.

"No," she replied. "What about you with Susan and Neville?"

Harry just shook his head and said, "We just agreed to meet up on the train and, whoever was here first, would find a compartment for us."

With a wry smile she said, "In that case, you'd best leave your trunk and cage here and go and have a look. You really don't want to be dragging either down the length of the train, do you?"

"Actually, that's a good idea," he replied. "You don't mind?"

"No," she said. "Besides, I don't want to be dragging my trunk down the length of the train, either."

"Okay, I'll be as quick as I can," Turning to the Cygnus and Isabel he said, "I'm just going to search the train for our friends and be right back, alright?"

"Alright, Harry," replied Isabel with a smile. "Apparently, we're waiting here for Tracey, anyway."

Harry quickly ducked away and boarded the train via the first carriage. Then he proceeded down the length of the train looking in to compartments as he went. About ten minutes later he reached the caboose car and turned about, walking back up the length of the train again peering into compartments as he went.

Hopping back off the train he quickly approached the Greengrasses, since joined by the Davises, and said, "They're not on the train yet. But, compartments are starting to be 'reserved' pretty quickly. I suggest we board now and claim one for our own."

"Put your trunks onboard and come back out," said Cygnus. "I want to introduce you to a few people, Harry."

Harry gave a nod and grabbed the handle of Daphne's trunk. He put that onto the carriage floor just inside the door and allowed her to pass. Then grabbed Tracey's trunk and did the same for her. Once he was satisfied the girls were organised he picked up the handle of his own trunk and put that inside before stepping past. With Hedwig's cage in one hand, and gripping the handle of on end of his trunk with the other, he followed the girls.

The girls led him through a couple of carriages before they selected one, indicating for him to precede them inside.

Inside he glanced around before realising the trunks went into the overhead racks. He picked his up and shoved it onto the rack. Then looked to see both girls trying to act coquettish and indicating their own trunks.

With a sigh, he had soon manhandled both trunks up and alongside his own.

"Thank you, Harry," said Daphne after giving him a flirty little kiss on the cheek. Tracey followed it up with one of her own.

"You do realise your trunks," he said, "even though they have Featherweight Charms on them, are still exceedingly difficult to manoeuvre up onto those racks, right?"

"Yes, Harry. But, that's why we have you to handle them for us, right?" said Daphne, as if it explained everything.

Before Harry could respond, Tracey said, "Come on. You promised to rejoin the families back on the platform so Uncle Cygnus can introduce you to people." And walked off, closely followed by Daphne. Harry sighed and followed them off back to the others.

Back on the platform, Cygnus managed to introduce Harry to no less than a dozen people. Harry worked hard mentally to remember faces and associate names with them. He also stored in his mind the little facts about them which Cygnus mentioned. One was a hard worker within the Misuse of Magic Office at the Ministry; that person was an import/exporter of rare potion ingredients. Another was an ally on the Wizengamot.

While Cygnus was busy introducing Harry to what he felt was everyone, Susan turned up with her aunt in tow, closely followed by Neville and Gran. Daphne and Tracey took the pair of them on board to show them the compartment they'd snagged, while Aunt Amelia and Gran spoke with Cygnus, Isabel and Tracey's parents. Then they also started introducing Harry to people they thought he should get to know.

By the time it was almost 11.00am, Harry was having trouble trying to maintain focus on what he was doing. And he was feeling a little irritable from it. The first five minute warning whistle, indicating the train was about to depart, was heard from the engine, and Harry was happy to escape back to the train.

However, just as he was about to board, he was interrupted by a family full of redheads that had just turned up. He was almost rudely yanked back from stepping on board by the oldest boys. One of which said, "Hang on there a tic, old chap. Mind giving us a hand with our trunks?"

With a sigh, Harry quickly assisted them loading four school trunks onto the train before being able to step onboard himself.

"Thanks much, kind sir," said one of them, before he had a chance to move away down the passageway. One redhead - one of a set of twins - looked more closely at him, and said, "Oi! You're Harry Potter!"

"Yes," said Harry in response before he was finally able to get free of the rabid redheads.

He quickly moved down the passageway and entered the cabin where he'd first stored his, Daphne's and Tracey's trunks. And, with a sigh, collapsed onto one of the seats.

"It was bad enough trying to remember all the names, faces and details of the people Cygnus, Aunt Amelia and Gran introduced me to; I then had to run into a rabble of redheads as I was trying to board the train," he grumped.

"Rabble of redheads?" asked Susan.

"I think he means the Weasleys," replied Neville with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle. "When I stuck my head out the window, it was to tell Harry to hurry up. However, he was already about to board. That's when the Weasleys intercepted him and made him help load their trunks before he could get on board."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Some people seem to think my name is Porter, instead of Potter."

"Aw! Poor baby," mock simpered Tracey.

The train had only just begun moving, and he was about to retaliate against Tracey, when they were joined by a thin young blonde girl with hair in pigtails Harry had never met before.

"Hi!" she said, stepping over legs and sitting next to Susan.

Susan said, "Harry, this is my friend, Hannah Abbott. Hannah, this is also my friend, Harry - Harry Potter."

Hannah looked at him in shock and squeaked, "Really?"

Harry replied, "Yes, I'm really Susan's friend."

Hannah had the grace to blush. "Sorry," she said.

Harry smiled back and said, "No, I should be; and am."

Susan and Hannah then engaged in a quietly spoken discussion about 'girl things' and what they'd been up to over the past few days since they'd last seen each other. Neville was having trouble keeping his pet toad from jumping out of the compartment, or into trouble anywhere else, so he got down Hedwig's cage and gave it to the other boy.

"Put Trevor in this, Neville," he said. "It'll keep you from losing him."

Gratefully, Neville quickly accepted the cage and suggestion, housing the toad locked inside.

Harry was feeling a little irritated about the day already, so sat back with the intention of mediating for a while.

However, before he had a chance to sink into it, the door was yanked opened by the smallest of the aforementioned redheads.

The boy took a look around before his eyes alighted on Harry. Stepping through the door he said, "Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

Harry stared back at him, annoyed his meditation was interrupted by him. "No, it's not. I just walked past a good half dozen compartments that had less people in them than we already have in here. I do not like liars."

"Errr - They have Slytherins in them," the boy tried again.

"They're in here, too," Daphne snapped back.

"But - but, that's Harry Potter!" the boy stuttered, pointing at Harry. "He can't be sitting with snakes! It's not right!"

"And now we come to the heart of the truth," snarled Harry. "You don't want to sit in here because 'everywhere else is full'; you want to sit in here because Harry Potter's in here. Well, Harry Potter's not interested in sitting with a liar. Now, get out before you find yourself thrown out!"

With a face reddening with either embarrassment or rage or a combination of both, the boy muttered something about 'arrogant gits' and 'fame's gone to his head' before he backed out and slammed the door shut behind him. Harry watched him stomp off down the passageway dragging his trunk behind him.

Sitting back with his eyes closed Harry said, "Sorry. He pushed all my buttons, that one."

"'That one' was Ron Weasley," said Susan, also upset. "He's the youngest of six boys. His only sister is the only one younger than him in their family of seven kids. His father works for my Auntie and heads the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. I've met him at various DMLE parties over the years. He's a greedy-guts when it comes to food and is often jealous of what other people have. I suggest staying well away from him."

"I, for one, intend to," said Harry.

After managing to lightly meditate for a while, and get a bit of a handle on his rising temper, they were next interrupted by a young bushy haired girl already wearing her school robes who appeared to be upset. Knocking on the door before opening it, she asked in a soft voice, "Can I sit in here please?"

Susan took one look at her and said, "Come in, and take a seat."

The girl entered and sat next to Susan, sniffling a bit.

"What happened?" Susan asked in a gentle voice.

"These older girls, up there," she indicated towards the front carriages of the train, "called me names when I said my parents were muggles. Then they threw me out of the compartment. I don't know what I did wrong," the girl sobbed.

"Nothing," said Daphne. "You did nothing wrong. You will find - Miss?"

"Granger," the girl replied. "Hermione Granger."

"You will find, Miss Granger, that there are those in the wizarding world who allow their bigotry to rule their lives. They think of muggleborns, such as yourself, as beneath them. That just makes them idiots," Daphne calmly said. "However, because you're a muggleborn, I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to dealing with the likes of them. It's the same bigotry that has white people call black people 'gollywogs' in the muggle world."

"How do you deal with it?" Hermione asked Daphne.

"I don't have to," replied Daphne. "I'm what's known as a pureblood. I can trace my family on both sides back many wizarding generations. The same applies to Susan, and Neville," she said indicating the two of them. "Tracey and Harry, here, on the other hand, are what's known as half-bloods. One wizarding line; one muggle line. And I'm Daphne, by the way."

After looking around as Daphne indicated the others in the room, Hermione's eyes rested with a quizzical look on Harry. Suddenly her eyes widened a little in surprise. "You're Harry Potter!" she exclaimed. "I've read all about you..." and her voice trailed off.

As soon as Hermione exclaimed 'you're Harry Potter' Harry's expression changed to one of great disappointment, he dropped his chin to his chest and groaned.

Realising she'd just done something wrong, she said, "Ummm - I guess that wasn't the right thing to say. I'm sorry." Her face screwed up and it looked like she was going to cry again as she, too, dropped her chin to her chest.

Sighing, Harry looked up and said, "Sorry. You weren't to know. I just do not like being considered famous.

Looking up with tears in her eyes, Hermione near-plaintively asked, "Why ever not?"

"Think about why it is I'm famous," said Harry.

"Ummm - you're supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived. The one who killed Voldemort," replied Hermione. She didn't see most of the others wince at her casual mention of the name.

"Am I?" asked Harry. "No. I see it as - I'm famous for what happened on the night of the 31st of October 1981. The night my parents were brutally murdered by a psychotic sociopath right in front of my infant eyes. The night I became a lonely orphan. Every time someone harps on about the Boy-Who-Lived, I'm reminded of my parent's murder."

"Oh, God!" exclaimed Hermione. "I'm soooo sorry. I didn't think..."

Harry held up a hand to forestall any more. "No one really ever does see it from my side," he softly said. "They just don't think it through. For them, the 31st of October is a day of joyous celebration; the day the threat of Voldemort was removed from their lives. For me, it's one of self-pity and sorrowful memoria."

When he finished speaking Daphne leaned in to him and softly planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Harry," she said. "Thank you for helping me understand it from your point of view."

Harry just gently nodded as he blushed a little.

Hermione softly said, "None of the books about that night, or about you, ever mention that side of it."

Harry gently snorted and said, "You shouldn't rely too much on what's written in books, Miss Granger. Most of them are lies and half-truths, anyway."

"No," said Hermione. "I don't mean those silly novels like 'Harry Potter and the Bashful Banshee'; I mean 'The Boy Who Lived: Our Youngest Hero'. That one says it's a true and accurate recollection of the days leading up to the event, the event itself, and the days following."

Harry snorted and said, "I've read it, Miss Granger. I've even got a copy of it in my trunk. It's pretty much a complete pile of hippogriff crap. All the books are."

"Wha..?" asked Hermione, completely confused. "No. But. It can't be!"

Tracey said, "Think about it, Miss Granger. The only person who was there and lived through the event - and didn't end up locked away in prison - is Harry. And, no one has ever approached Harry to ask for his recollections of the event."

"Ergo," said Daphne, taking it up. "No one has given their recollection of the events - who was actually there - to the author of the book. So, ask yourself this: How were they able to get the information to report it as an accurate recollection?"

"But..." spluttered Hermione. "That's - They lied!?"

"Indeed," said Daphne quite calmly. "Indeed, they did."

"I think I'll be asking for my money back," huffed the young girl.

Harry chuckled and said, "That's actually not a bad idea."

After things started to settle down again; and the others were talking amongst themselves; Harry, again, tried to meditate for a while.

He was yet again interrupted by the door being yanked open. Three boys stood in the doorway. The one front and centre was of average height but was slender in comparison to the two apes stood behind him. He had pale slender features, almost effeminate, with white blonde hair slicked back. Harry wondered how much hair gel the boy went through in a week.

"Is it true?" the blonde boy asked, looking directly at Harry. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Really?" asked Harry. "And how would they know that?" He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean, though dense. Standing either side of the pale boy they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the boy carelessly flicking his hand to indicate each, ignoring Harry's question but noticing where he was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Neville gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Oh," Malfoy sneered at Neville. "It's you, squib."

Turning back to Harry he said, "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

Instead, Harry turned to Daphne and asked in as overly cultured a voice as he could manage, "Greengrass? Do we know a Malfoy?"

With her face schooled into a stone-like mask, Daphne considered the question for a while before replying with a similar voice, "Malfoy. A lesser House. His grandfather bought his Lordship, if I recall. And his father reportedly has bought the ear of the Minister. The family is somewhat wealthy. Not in your league, of course.

"Oh, and he's a cousin of yours, or some such. At least, his mother is a Black. Hmmm - He might be worth knowing."

Neville, Tracey, Susan and Hermione were all watching their byplay in shock. Malfoy had lowered his hand but still stood there trembling in a mixture of shame and rage.

"A Black; really?" asked Harry mock-feigning interest. "Not an Heiress, was she?"

"Merlin, no," replied Daphne. "Third daughter of a minor arm, if I remember correctly."

Harry gave a big sigh and said, "Well, as he is a cousin, of sorts; I suppose I should make an effort."

He slowly rose to his feet and finally faced Malfoy. "I'm sure your mother, as she was a Black, taught you better manners than to just barge into the compartment of your social betters without even knocking first. However, as you are a cousin, I suppose I can overlook your uncouth behaviour and poor self-introduction for now.

"I am, indeed, Mister Harry James Potter, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. I'm sure you're most pleased to finally meet me.

"And, as I'm currently sitting in a compartment and am friends with Mister Neville Longbottom, Heir Apparent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom; Miss Daphne Greengrass, Heiress Presumptive of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass; Miss Tracey Davis, Heiress of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Davis; Miss Susan Bones, Heiress Apparent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Bones; and Miss Hannah Abbott, Heiress of the Noble and Ancient House of Abbott - as you can see - I have not made friends with 'the wrong sort', as you put it."

Leaning forward slightly with his head cocked 'just so', he asked, "Will there be anything else - cousin?"

Almost vibrating in anger and shame, Malfoy gritted out, 'No,' before stepping back out the door, slamming the door shut and storming off down the passageway.

After he'd left, Harry flopped back into his seat and, chuckling, said, "That was kind of fun!"

A few moments later, Daphne burst into outright laughter; and was soon followed by everyone except Hermione. She was trying not to smile but was in a bit of shock.

"Sweet Merlin!" said Daphne. "That went even better than I thought it would!" And cracked up laughing again.

Through her laughter, Tracey semi-accused, "You - you had that planned, didn't you!"

Trying to calm down again and wiping tears from her eyes, Daphne replied, "Yes. After I told Harry what sort of an arrogant poncy git Malfoy was, he came up with the idea of being an even bigger ponce than he was and to 'out-arrogance' him. We worked on it, together, and hoped the right people - meaning, you lot - were all in place when 'Poncy-Git' made his move."

"You mean," asked Hermione, clearly trying to get her head around what she'd heard, "You people really are those titles - I mean - you're..."

"Relax, Miss Granger," interrupted Daphne. "Yes; we are all Heirs and Heiresses of some very important families. Harry, however, is already the Head of House Potter, and has been for a few weeks since his eleventh birthday."

Tracey took it from there. "What you see here - now that I think of it - is a very powerful bloc of very powerful families from within wizarding Britain. Harry, once he reaches his majority, will become Lord Potter; Daphne, as his betrothed, will become Lady Potter when they marry, and mayhap Lady Greengrass-Potter; Susan will become Lady Bones when she reaches her majority; my older brother will become Lord Davis when my father passes, and I might become Lady 'something else' if I become betrothed to someone of equal or greater station; the same applies to Hannah; as she, too, has an older sibling."

"Wow!" said Hermione. "You're all, like, wizarding royalty."

"Pretty much," said Harry, with a bit of a shrug. "However, unlike the poncy git by the name of Malfoy you just met, we don't put on the la-di-dah airs those like him do. We prefer to be just ordinary folks. There's no need to rub someone's face in it - unless they're someone like Malfoy."

"And - ummm - Why do you call each other by your first names, and me as 'Miss Granger'?" she timidly asked.

"Ah!" said Daphne. "That would be because you haven't given us leave to use your first name. It's considered rude in the wizarding world to use someone's first name when they've not given you leave to do so."

"Oh! Sorry!" blushed Hermione. "Please call me Hermione. Everyone."

"Thank you - Hermione," replied Daphne with a slight nod.

"Have I - done something wrong when I've used your first name?" she asked worriedly.

"No, because you were introduced using first names only," replied Daphne. "Don't worry, you caused no slight. However, it's something you should be aware of, once we get to Hogwarts."

"Is there a book on this?" she asked.

That elicited a chuckle from almost everyone.

"There's many books on this," Tracey laughed.

"I have one in my trunk," said Harry. "I'll get it out for you when we get changed into our school robes."

"So, it's Mister or Miss when introduced. But, use first names when invited to do so. Anything else I should know so I don't make a fool of myself?" asked Hermione.

"Well, you're close. What you said applies to almost all occasions. However, on formal occasions, things change for those of us of noble lines," said Harry.

"Using Daphne, here, as an example," he said. "She's 'Daphne' to those invited to use her given name in informal settings, she's 'Miss Greengrass' to those who haven't been invited to use her given name in informal settings, she's 'Lady Daphne' on some formal occasions - particularly conversationally, and she's 'Heiress Greengrass' for formal announcements and the like. Lady Greengrass is her mother, married to Lord Greengrass. If, perish the thought, Daphne's father passes, Lady Greengrass will become Dowager Lady Greengrass formally and Dame Greengrass informally; and Daphne, on her majority before she marries me, will become Lady Greengrass.

"Now Susan, like me, is an orphan. And Susan's titling comes by way of her father. Even though there is no Lady Bones, at present, Susan is still formally known as 'Lady Susan'. The younger sister of her father, Amelia Bones, is Susan's current guardian. Now, Aunt Amelia is also Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the DMLE. As such she holds a seat on the Wizengamot, the wizarding world's parliament, and becomes known informally as Madam Bones. Plus, she has also taken on the role as Susan's Regent and has taken seat on the Wizengamot in that role, as well. So that also makes her - when it has to do with Wizengamot proceedings relating to House Bones or business matters relating to House Bones - Regent Bones."

"On the male side of the divide it's no less murky. Let's take Neville, for example..." to which Neville nodded he was okay with it, "... Neville's father is still alive and is Lord Longbottom. However, Lord Longbottom is currently unable to attend to his duties. Though Neville is Heir Apparent, he is considered too young to take on those duties himself. So, his paternal grandmother, Augusta Longbottom - Dowager Lady Longbottom - is acting as both his guardian and regent. She currently sits the Wizengamot as Regent Longbottom. Neville is Heir Longbottom, or Mister Longbottom. And Augusta is Dowager Lady Longbottom, or Dame Longbottom or just Madam Longbottom. Only her very closest friends and family ever get to call her anything else."

That made Neville laugh. "You got that right."

"Now, my situation is rather unique." Looking around, Harry said, "What I'm about to tell you is a closely guarded secret. Daphne, Neville and Susan are pretty much aware of this already; and the information is protected under House alliances. But, I'm putting a great deal of trust in you - Tracey, Hannah and Hermione - to keep this to yourselves unless I specifically tell you otherwise, alright?"

"You don't need a magical oath on it, do you?" asked Tracey, a little worried.

"No, just your word will do me," replied Harry

After the three gave it, he said, "I'm 'Harry' for invited informal, 'Mister Potter' for uninvited informal, and 'Heir Potter' for formal. However, because I've already accepted the Headship for House Potter, I may also be called 'Lord Potter' as a mark of acknowledgement to my status on formal occasions. Once I attain my majority at seventeen - or I'm otherwise legally emancipated before then - I then properly become Lord Potter, and may be referred to as 'The Potter'.

"My current guardians are muggles, and Albus Dumbledore has managed to get himself named as my magical guardian. And, as neither my muggle guardians nor Dumbledore, were listed in my parents' Will as who they designated for me to have as guardians, it appears he have may done it illegally. However, though he claims to be my magical guardian, he is not acting as my regent. Instead, it appears he has appointed a proxy to my House seat. Something of which I'm not bloody happy about, and something else which it appears he was not legally allowed to do so."

"But, Albus Dumbledore is Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, and the Leader of the Light!" exclaimed Hermione. "How could he do such a thing?"

"Yes; he's got everyone fooled, Hermione," growled Harry. "Lord Greengrass, Madam Bones and Regent Longbottom all agree it sounds very dodgy; so, they're currently researching through Ministerial and Wizengamot records to unearth the truth."

"Furthermore, I've also discovered my godfather, Sirius Black, has also formally named me his Heir."

That drew a gasp from just about everyone but Hermione.

Harry nodded and said, "According to the goblins, Sirius Black, though he currently resides in Azkaban, became Lord Apparent for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black when his grandfather passed on the 31st of March earlier this year..."

"But, that's not possible!" exclaimed Tracey, cutting in. "Anyone sentenced to life in Azkaban is automatically and magically stripped of being able to hold a Lordship!"

"We know," replied Harry. "That's yet another issue Lord Greengrass, Madam Bones and Regent Longbottom are researching through Ministerial and Wizengamot records. The why of it."

Taking a breath, he said, "Now, as Sirius Black is currently Lord Apparent, and I'm his designated Heir, that makes me Heir Presumptive for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. So, I can also be formally addressed as Heir Black. And Dumbledore also appears to know that and has placed a proxy on that House seat, as well - the bastard.

"And, the reason that information is to be kept secret is because Draco Malfoy, the poncy git of whom you've just met, thinks he's Heir Black. He's wrong. But, I don't want to put the idea in his father's head, through him, to get me bumped off. Thus ensuring Malfoy gets control of the Black fortune. I think the only reason Sirius Black isn't currently dead is because Malfoy Senior expects the conditions of Azkaban to kill off Black any day now; thereby saving him the effort and Galleons to affect it."

After a few more questions and answers were discussed, Harry suggested he and Neville lift down the girls' trunks so they could get changed into their school robes. After the girls agreed, he and Neville lifted down the trunks for Tracey and Susan, plus Harry's as Daphne followed his earlier suggestion and put her 'travelling' school robes in the top of his trunk.

Hannah headed back to the compartment where she had left her own trunk with the promise she'd be right back with her robes to change into. And Hermione was already wearing hers.

Harry and Neville then stepped out of the compartment and stood guard while the girls changed. Hannah came back carrying a bundle of clothes a short while later and ducked right in.

A few minutes later, the compartment door was slid open and the boys re-entered changing places with the girls. They quickly restowed Tracey and Susan's trunks before getting down Neville's. The boys quickly changed, then opened the door for the girls to re-enter. Harry scooped up the book 'Noble Etiquette' before also scooping up the book 'An Introduction to the Wizarding World' for Hermione.

Relocking the trunk, he and Neville quickly restowed both trunks in the overhead, before letting the girls back in and resuming their seats. Harry then offered both books to Hermione and said, "Keep them for as long as you need them or until I ask for them, and don't on-loan them to anyone else."

Hermione nodded and said, "Thank you, Harry." Before she opened the first book to have a quick scan through it.

When he sat down, Daphne cuddled into the side of him and whispered, "My big strong man, you."

Harry just snorted in response.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

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Once again this is not my work. Original work is written by Sinyk on fanfic.net

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