Chapter 15 A Purr-fect Christmas

"How is this possible, Ragnurk? How can I be Lord Potter when he is Lord Potter," Gilderoy pointed at Harry, "and wearing the Lordship Ring?"

Both Goblins stared at the parchment, scowling madly.

"And Lord Black? I realize the current Heir Black is in Azkaban, but how can I be Lord Black?"

Actually, now that Harry/Gilderoy stopped to think about it, it made all the sense in the world. His complete magical core was resident in Lockhart. And because his magical core was the same as the student Harry's, albeit more developed, as far as magic was concerned they were the same person. And as Potter from the future had been both Lord Potter and Lord Black, magic from now had accepted him as Lord Potter and Lord Black because his magic said he was. His magic knew he was Lord of those two estates.

That he was also Lord Peverell was a surprise, but considering House Potter's ownership of the coveted Deathly Hallows Invisibility Cloak, that was predictable. The father in each generation probably told his oldest child of the importance of the relic until there came a time when a father died before disclosing that important information and left subsequent generations in ignorance.

Slytherin and Gaunt, by Right of Conquest, those, too, were predictable. He had never bothered with a Heritage Search in the future, so he had never known. He had been too busy trying to keep himself and his friends alive. And, well, after he finally beat Voldewhore, there hadn't been anything left to inherit. But his magic had known. And in this time he had destroyed Riddle's soul fragments in both Riddle's diary and Ravenclaw's Diadem — two more vanquishes.

On the other hand, when he thought about it, Golderoy being Lord Slytherin would drive all the Pure-blood old farts barmy!

Gryffindor, though? That was a total surprise. Where had that come from?

And Gilderoy's mother was a Witch. Her family had kicked her out and cut her off from any inheritances for the sin of marrying a Muggle. He had had no reason to suspect that a Heritage search would reveal anything he didn't already know, so why waste the galleons? And without the addition of Harry's core, he would have been right.

But in any case, it meant that magic regarded both him and the child Harry as being the same person. And that his magic and Lockhart's had not intermixed to any real degree, yet. They existed as separate entities that had formed a sharing system. Perhaps someday they might fully merge, but Harry/Gilderoy figured it might take decades.

While Harry/Gilderoy was contemplating these possible facts, the Goblins had both the adult and the child Wizard sign new Heritage Search parchments. Harry's displayed:

.

House of Potter, Lord, by Blood inheritance.

House of Peverell, Lord, by Blood inheritance.

House of Gryffindor, Lord, by Blood inheritance.

House of Slytherin, Lord, by Right of Magical Conquest.

House of Gaunt, Lord, by Right of Magical Conquest.

.

His matched Gilderoy's except for Houses Lockhart and Black. That Harry's didn't include Black made sense because Sirius hadn't yet died and made official the inheritance to the boy. At the moment, Harry Potter was only a possible heir. It wouldn't be official until Lord Black made the announcement or Gringotts probated his Will. Harry/Gilderoy, though, had been Lord Black for over a decade in the future, so that magic maintained it. Sirius' will no longer mattered because Harry/Gilderoy Lockhart was Lord Black according to his magic.

The Goblins were as mystified as everyone else, though.

"That should be impossible," said Ragnurk, "One of you should list as a member of the House, not the Lord. There is only one way to test this." He turned to Harry. "Lord Potter, give your Lordship Ring to Mr. Lockhart." He turned and scowled at Lockhart. "If the Wizard can put the ring on his finger, then he, too, is Lord Potter. And what is true for one is true for the others."

Harry looked at Gilderoy hesitantly. The Wizard smiled at him broadly, "I promise that I will return the ring to you poste-haste. I have no desire to be Lord Potter."

Harry slowly withdrew the ring from his finger and handed it to Lockhart. Gilderoy just as slowly edged it onto his right-hand ring finger. It adjusted as he did so, growing larger to fit his adult-sized finger. When he let go, it resized to fit perfectly.

They both looked over to the Goblins, who were staring intently. Finally, Gutslasher looked at Ragnurk and shrugged his shoulders. Gilderoy removed the ring and returned it to Harry. Once it was back on the boy's finger, Gilderoy said, "Mr. Potter, I swear I will not make any alterations to your House Potter properties or financial estate without consulting you first unless it is an emergency and those alterations are to your or House Potter's benefit. So Mote it Be! Lumos."

Harry said, "You don't have to do that . . . ."

Gilderoy interrupted, "Yes, I do. These combined Lordships are going to be a nightmare when everyone outside this room discovers their existence." He paused and looked at the two children. "First, you are Lord Potter. I will not meddle with anything that is House Potter without your express permission first. I do not wish to be involved and will modify my will accordingly. Second, you do not know this, but your Invisibility Cloak is an heirloom belonging to the Peverell House, of which you are a direct descendant. There is quite a story behind it, the Fable of the Three Brothers and Death, perhaps I'll tell it to you some day."

Both Hermione and Harry looked shocked, probably at the notion that Lockhart not only knew about the Cloak, but that he knew so much more about it than they did!

"I will investigate House Peverell to make sure everything is proper before I turn it over to you as the rightful heir."

Hermione asked, "But how do you know you aren't the rightful heir?"

The Goblins were listening intently.

He smiled wryly, "I know my father's lineage as well as my mother's, nothing in either line provides as solid a link to Peverell House as your Invisibility Cloak, Mr. Potter. I have my suspicions as to why I am listed as Lord of several of your Houses, but I cannot speak of them. In any event, I will yield to your superior claims later, after I make sure there are no hidden contracts or claims against the Houses that adversely affect you or Miss Granger."

They both looked at him questioningly.

"Such as a marriage contract that circumstances would now activate," he explained. "You would be most displeased to discover that in the far past House Peverell made an agreement with House Malfoy, for example, whereby if both Houses should have their only children in Hogwarts at the same time, and of the appropriate sexes, they should wed for the continuance of the families." He smirked, "Miss Granger might object to that, correct, my dear?"

The two both had expressions of revulsion, although Hermione still managed to blush a bit.

"Similarly, I shall vet the other Houses — Slytherin, Gaunt, and Gryffindor — before we make any momentous decisions." He smiled confidently. "House Black belongs to your godfather, Sirius Black, who is illegally incarcerated in Azkaban prison. I am working on getting him out, by the way."

"I think you will want to yield the Houses Gaunt and Slytherin to me in the future. In the meantime, I shall hold as regent for you on your other Houses until you reach your majority. And you will have your hands full with Houses Potter, Gryffindor, and Peverell! That's a wife and a concubine for each, you know."

He studied the two stunned children. Clearly, they would accomplish nothing more of import today. Just coming to terms with Hermione's new status would take her the rest of the day. And Harry, poor Harry, was completely lost at discovering that not only was he rich, but that he had a home, his home, he could go to this summer. No more Dursleys — ever! Gilderoy would have to bring them back to Gringotts after Christmas to finalize some details.

In any case, this certainly moved up his plans for dealing with Slytherin's Locket. As Lord Black he wouldn't have to wait for Sirius to get out of Azkaban. He could easily get Kreature to fetch the tainted locket, deal with it, and have it ready to present on schedule to Professor Snape. And if he could get the Goblin's to retrieve the lost House Gaunt ring . . . well that would save him considerable time and effort! That only left the Hufflepuff Cup to deal with. And as Lord Black, maybe he could get the Goblin's to allow him access. If that didn't work, then he could try to use his new seats on the Wizenmaggots — Potter, Black, Gryffindor, and Slytherin — to get a law passed that would allow him access.

And in the meantime, his being Lord Black added to his already substantial wealth as Lockhart made him easily the wealthiest Wizard in all of Europe, if not the world.

"Lord Potter, Lady Dagworth-Granger, I suggest you keep today's discoveries quiet while we sort these things out. Lady Dagworth-Granger, be sure to owl your parents with a copy of that paperwork. See if they can manage to get Monday off from work so we can consult on exactly what all this means for you and them. At the very least, the three of you will want to examine your Vault to see what books and journals your esteemed ancestor has left to you. You might also be able to visit the Dagworth-Granger homestead on Monday for a preliminary examination. Who knows, you might want to move there if it's nice enough."

And seeing her parents' expressions when they discovered she had turned herself into a cat-girl was going to be priceless. Too bad they weren't of Japanese descent — the pranking potential would have been out of sight!

He turned to Harry, "Mr. Potter, I know all this is a shock, but it is imperative you tell no one of your multiple Lordships, not even Misters Weasley, Miss Lovegood, or Mr. Longbottom. You should also make your ring invisible."

Harry looked at him questioningly.

"Just will that none may see it and it will be."

In the middle of all this, a Goblin had arrived with a small box. He had handed it to Ragnurk, and now Ragnurk handed it to Hermione. Moments later, she was admiring her new ring, before making it disappear from view as well.

He turned to the two Goblins. "Ragnurk, we will return on Monday to take care of some of this business. If there are other account managers involved, have them at the meeting. Have the property protective enchantment reports available as well as all the relevant financial details on each property. Check for any outstanding betrothal or marriage contracts on all the Houses and withhold them until we can carefully examine them. I will expect portkeys to all the properties so that we may view them.

"If there are any encumbrances, provide all the details and our possible courses of action.

"Put these in logical and complete order, and in language simple enough for Muggles and children to understand with only minimal effort."

The Goblins grimaced, but nodded agreement. Lockhart also got them to agree to withhold the information on the new Lordships for as long as possible.

"I think we have spent enough time here today. Copy the property reports for Lord Potter and Lady Dagworth-Granger. We will be here at nine in the morning."

He waited only long enough for the Goblins to hand them the duplicated items, then ushered the children back out into Diagon Alley. "How about some ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour? I think we deserve a treat after all that!"

The castle's reaction to his return was startling. He could feel the protective enchantments as they started to shift to his control. Apparently, wearing the Lord Gryffindor and Lord Slytherin rings had a few additional perks. He managed, however, to delegate control back to the Headmaster before the older Wizard realized things had started to change. His new situation, though, meant that the Castle's protective enchantments no longer held any restrictions for him. It also meant he could monitor them whenever he wanted.

(⊙_◎)

The next morning, at breakfast, he received a Gringotts' owl. The estimated market value for the Basilisk parts, at current prices and after removing theirs and his reserved portions, was three million galleons — mostly in the venom sacs (almost four litres), eye fluids (sixteen litres), and one hundred square yards of Basilisk skin (extremely valuable because it was almost impervious to all spells, even the Unforgivables to a mild degree). The letter also included an offer to purchase all the non-reserved parts for a flat one million galleons. Gringotts would take the risk on selling the Basilisk parts over several years across the world through their connections to prevent flooding the markets and substantially decreasing the estimated income. The world supply of the venom at present, for example, was less than a litre! They also had the facilities to store the ingredients whereas Gilderoy did not.

He wrote in his counter offer of two point five million. He figured they would settle somewhere between one-and-a-half and two million. It was a fair price. And put their part of deal close to the original fifty-fifty split they had originally offered. Heh. Goblins. Funny how that worked out! Harry/Gilderoy didn't care. It was the fame that drove Gilderoy. And Rita Skeeter's articles were doing a fine job of that. He could hardly wait for Monday!

That the Goblins had made more profit off him in the last three months than all their other clients in the last two years was incidental — the good will he got, though, was worth every galleon. When Harry/Gilderoy got down to going after the Hufflepuff cup, that good will would pay dividends.

Plus, the massive payout would place him as the richest Wizard in the world — by at least triple — and easily provide him the gold coin to fund everything he wanted to do in the next year.

In the meantime, his deals for Harry insured the boy was moving up the ranks as well.

But it was kind of funny how both Harry and Gilderoy could care less about the money. Gilderoy only wanted to see his name in the headlines. Harry only wanted to get rid of Voldewhore. The money was merely a way of counting their success and achieving those goals! Gilderoy thought it was a pity, though, that the Wizarding world would never know he had saved them from complete destruction. Harry wasn't disappointed in the slightest.

After breakfast, he retired to his office, calling out, "KREACHER!" as soon as the door closed.

There was a long silence, then, POP! "Kreacher comes. Who is this filthy half-blood? Kreacher cannot resist. How? Kreacher's bad master is in Azkaban and no others can call." The house-elf looked around suspiciously.

Gilderoy smiled broadly at the little creature. "I am Lord Black."

The elf made an ugly grimace, "Impossible. Filthy Half-blood cannot be Lord of Noble and Ancient Pure-blood House Black. Kreacher go." The house-elf disappeared with a POP.

Harry/Gilderoy laughed. "Charming as ever," he said under his breath. "Kreacher, as Lord Black I order you to appear here!"

POP! "Kreacher comes again. How can filthy Half-blood command Kreacher?"

Before the house-elf could leave a second time, Harry/Gilderoy said jovially, striking a commanding pose, "Kreacher, how would you like to finish what your good master Black told you to do?"

Kreacher stared at him suspiciously. "Kreacher wonders how detestable Half-blood knows of Good Master."

"How I know is unimportant," Gilderoy said with an elegant wave of his hand. "That I do know your good master Regulus ordered you to destroy a certain locket, which you have been unable to do, is all you need to know."

"Foul Wizard is lying to Kreacher, to trick Kreacher." The house-elf scowled, taking a half-step toward Lockhart. "Kreacher cannot attack horrible Half-Blood. Kreacher . . . ."

Gilderoy hardened his voice, "Kreacher, I order you to bring me the locket you were ordered to destroy. Now."

Kreacher stood there a moment, clearly fighting the compulsion to obey. Then he disappeared. Several minutes passed. Gilderoy was patient. Even a House-elf needed time to fetch something under lock and key.

Just as he was becoming annoyed, Kreacher returned, the only sign of the locket was his tightly closed right hand.

"Excellent," Harry/Gilderoy said happily. He looked down at the House-elf. "Can you feel the evil taint in that locket, Kreacher?" he asked softly.

Kreacher gave him an uncertain look. "Dark thing is more than just Dark, Kreacher thinks. Is why Good Master told Kreacher to destroy it. How does miserable Half-blood feel it? Is it a trick?" he mumbled to himself.

"Follow me," Gilderoy ordered, flicking his wand and casting a disillusionment charm on the House-elf.

Moments later, he was walking back and forth in front of a wall on the seventh floor. Kreacher watched him scowling. He was only marginally surprised when a door appeared.

Once inside the Cleansing Chamber, Harry turned to the unhappy House-elf. "Kreacher, the Wizard that created the Dark spell on that locket is the same Wizard who killed your good master. Your good master knew what that spell was and knew it had to be destroyed. He was willing to die to destroy that magic." Kreacher stared at him scowling.

"This room is specially designed to destroy that spell without harming the object itself. Together, we will complete the task given to you by your good master Regulus."

"Kreacher tried everything to destroy the locket. Fire, acid, beating, everything. Nothing worked. This shan't work."

"Then you have nothing to lose in doing it, right?"

Reluctantly, scowling fiercely, Kreacher agreed.

"Place the locket in the middle of the room."

He did, the chain wrapping around the locket.

"We have to wait an hour. Tell me about your good master." Gilderoy sat on the floor, motioning Kreacher to join him. Harry had never talked with Sirius about his younger brother. He only knew that Sirius had hated the boy for joining with Voldewhore. And Harry had been too busy fighting the war to sit and talk with the House-elf before he died defending the Black Mansion. And he knew better than to ask the House-elf's opinion of Sirius!

Finally, an hour had passed. Gilderoy stood and then crouched down beside the initiating circle in the floor and held out his wand. "Put your hand on mine." Tentatively, the House-elf wrapped his long fingers around Gilderoy's hand. Gilderoy placed the wand tip on the edge of the circle and said, "Exorcizamus immundus spiritus." He stood and said, "We must hurry," and hustled the elf out of the chamber and closed the door. "And now, we wait again. So, what other pranks did Regulus play on Sirius?"

Fifteen minutes passed rather quickly, and they entered the chamber to see the Locket gleaming on the floor. Kreacher ran over and grabbed it.

"Do you feel anything from it, Kreacher?"

"Nothing!" Kreacher looked up at him and smiled — a scary thing to behold. "Kreacher has done what Good Master Regulus wanted! Kreacher is happy."

Gilderoy smiled, "Excellent!"

He stepped over to the House-elf. "May I see it for a moment, Please? I will give it back."

Reluctantly, yet oddly happy, the House-elf handed over the locket. Gilderoy pressed the button and the locket popped open. Unlike the last time he had seen the evil artefact, this time there were no blood-red eyes staring back at him. The chamber had removed all the enchantments, Voldewhore must have subverted the original enchantment by Salazar into becoming a part of his horcrux. Now it was merely a gold locket with nothing of import inside.

He reached into his pocket and removed a galleon. He studied the locket and its chain carefully, then changed the galleon into a duplicate, putting enough magic into it to make it permanent.

He held the duplicate out to Kreacher. "Kreacher, this locket is a priceless artefact that I would like to return to Hogwarts for everyone to see. Will you accept this duplicate I created as a remembrance of your Good Master Regulus? It will be yours forever, and I swear on my magic as Lord Black that I will not take it from you, nor have anyone take it from you. I further forbid any member of the Black Family, in perpetuity, to take it from you, on pain of expelling them from the family. It will be yours and only yours. So Mote it Be. Lumos." His wand-tip glowed. "And there's a spell on it that allows you, Kreacher, to 'call' the locket to yourself if it ever gets 'lost.'"

"You . . . you would do that for Kreacher?" Kreacher had giant tears dripping from his eyes.

Harry took the duplicate locket and draped it around Kreacher's neck.

Gilderoy left Kreacher alone for the next half-hour as he cradled the locket and cried in happiness at finally completing his master's order, and receiving such a fine remembrance.

Finally, Gilderoy interrupted. "Kreacher, now that you have finished your beloved master's last order, it is time you took care of the Mansion. It is so filthy right now, that not even a Muggle would want to walk inside, not to mention how revolted a Pure-blood would be to see it. A Pure-blood would assume you were a bad House-elf and dismiss you immediately."

Kreacher gave him a horrified look.

"But I know you were distracted by your last order from your Good Master Regulus, so you needn't worry about that. I want you to clean the house from top to bottom, so that it looks as if it were brand new. Take a spare trunk from storage and place all the Dark or Cursed Artefacts you find in that trunk. Get a second trunk and put all the cursed books in it. I want the House so safe a Muggle or child could walk through it without fear of anything bad happening. Not that I plan to have any Muggle children wandering in it, but still, it's the thought that counts."

Kreacher leapt to his feet about to POP off his new mission.

"Wait," ordered the Wizard, "You are an important member of the Black family. That means I want you to take care of yourself." He stared at the surprised elf. "You are not to work yourself into exhaustion! When you are hungry, get a proper meal to eat. When you are tired, rest — you can use your resting time to plan what needs to be done next and the easiest way to do it properly, if you want. When you are sleepy, I want you to sleep. Most importantly, do not punish yourself! If you feel you need punishment, you will tell me, and why, and I will decide! Is that clear?"

Kreacher nodded, staring at him and frowning.

"You cannot do your job properly if you are tired, hungry, or hurt! I will not be pleased," he said imperiously, his hands on his hips and dramatically posed looking down his nose at the diminutive house-elf, "if I call for you and find you too tired to do what I need because you overworked yourself. If you need help, you will tell me and I will see about getting you more help. Is this all clear?"

Again, Kreacher nodded.

"Excellent! We have an accord." He was about to dismiss the House-elf when he had another thought. "Is the portrait of Mrs. Black in the main Hall?"

"Yes," Kreacher answered.

"Excellent. Please remove it and place it in storage with the other portraits in the Black Vaults." Getting that insane biddy out of the house would go a long ways to making the place habitable once more.

"Off you go now," he waved his hands genially, motioning the House-elf away.

Kreacher POPed off. Harry/Gilderoy sighed. Maybe by the time Sirius got out of Azkaban and St. Mungo's the house at Twelve Grimmauld Place wouldn't be so miserable a place to live.

He headed back to his office. He was expecting delivery of his Basilisk parts this afternoon. He planned to get the skin to an armourer as soon as possible. Wearing that during a battle would make him almost impervious to any magical spells. And as tough as it was, even common swords and knives would have difficulty making an impression on it, never mind actually penetrating it. The armourer would have quite a chore ahead of him. But that was all right. He would give the Wizard enough skin for two outfits, let him keep the extra, and Lockhart would get the work done free!

(◎_◎)

Thursday, and Christmas Eve, came quickly and the staff had a small Christmas party after tea. Gilderoy had been unhappy to hear that Professor Snape had been an absolute cad on his date with Sinistra. He had been sullen and rude to the poor woman. Humph. See if he ever did any more favours for the stupid git!

He had situated himself between Sinistra and McGonagall at the tea and flirted shamelessly with both. Afterwards, at the party, he had sent a Hogwarts elf to his room to retrieve his record player. It was a muggle device, but he had substituted a spinning charm for the motor. A sonorous charm on the needle had supplied the amplification. As a result, he spent the evening dancing with the witches, but spending most of it with Sinistra and McGonagall. Somewhere along the way, the butterbeers became shots of fire-whiskey.

The next morning, Christmas morning, Harry woke to perhaps the best Christmas presents he had ever received — two very accommodating witches. The three missed most of the morning feast, but none of them felt unhappy about that in the slightest.

The few students in residence were shocked to see the three walk in together, laughing and in very good moods. Professor McGonagall's magnificent smile instead of her normally stern visage was what startled them the most, Harry/Gilderoy thought.

Harry/Gilderoy surprised the two witches when he gave them presents at the table — a wand holster each, with automatic sizing, comfort, invisibility, and anti-summoning runes. He had explained that they never needed to worry about not having their wands available when needed, as he had worn his all night and they had never noticed!

They had both apologized profusely for not having anything as nice a gift for him. "I merely wanted you two fine ladies always to be safe, and the holsters are appropriate for your positions as Professors at this fine institution," he had happily explained.

He didn't mention that Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Luna also received the same gift. In addition, those three had received their special duplicate wands and holsters. The note included had advice on where to wear the new wands — tied to their legs at all times — with a stern warning that they were not to be used at Hogwarts unless in an emergency. At home, they could use them as much as they wanted. Neville would get his when he returned to school.

Dobby had been quite busy trying to capture their expressions, without anyone seeing him, when they opened them.

After breakfast, the three made their separate ways to their rooms to put away their gifts. The students never noticed that the three then met again at his room, leaving only for tea and then returned.

How he had managed to talk the two witches into such a marathon game of Exploding Snap left both witches wondering and laughing for days. The variations he had come up with as extra penalties for holding the exploding card might have had something to do with it though — McGonagall still chuckled at the memory of watching Sinistra trying to pat her head, rub her stomach, and hop on one foot, all at the same time. And that car-e-o-key singing had been hilarious, especially after the third fire-whiskey. And the Monopoly game! What a strangely engrossing Muggle game it had been — who knew Sinistra was such a cut-throat capitalist!

Dobby, of course, was keeping track of the Golden Duo — their third and fourth were spending the hols at home. Dobby had a Wizarding camera to catch all the highlights of their expedition into enemy territory. And while Hermione was distracted, he carefully decanted the rest of the polyjuice into potion bottles and dropped two into her pocket for future reference. He kept the others in stasis against a future need.

Late that evening, both Dobby and Harry/Gilderoy had spent an hour laughing at the pictures of Harry discovering too late that he should have resized his underwear, shoes, and belts before drinking the polyjuice. And while Hermione would probably never find the situation funny, seeing her change into a cat-girl was simply too hysterical for words.

Plus, Cat-Hermione was just so cute! He definitely was going to blow that one up into a poster for his office.

Harry/Gilderoy visited the Hospital Wing shortly after visiting hours were over. "Ah, Miss Granger! How delightful to see you are in fine health after your accident," he said as he walked over to her. He flicked his wand and moved some screens into place so that casual lookers in the morning would not see the poor Witch. She whimpered slightly. He studied her with a critical eye.

"I must say, you are quite a cute cat-girl." He paused a moment as she stared morosely at the bedspread. He couldn't tell if she was blushing. As depressed as she was, probably not.

"Do you know that no one has ever studied what happens when someone accidentally ingests an animal hair instead of a human hair in polyjuice?"

She gave him a horrified look — how had he guessed?

"I should think," he continued, "that an in-depth thesis on the all the symptoms and how they fade through time would be a potion's article of some fame. It would make quite a splash with the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, I'm sure. Especially coming from someone with the surname Dagworth-Granger. You could start by cataloguing all the changes and, most importantly, what didn't change. Of course, you would have to provide pictures of the progression. I suggest a front and back picture at the start of every day, with close-ups of certain features such as the ears, eyes, tail, fingers, toes, and chest. And a sample of the potion you actually used, vetted by a Master Potioneer, would be most helpful." He carefully placed two vials on her nightstand, one with a potion in it and the other with a cat hair.

"Once you have all your material, you can then select which pictures to use. You'd have to study deucedly hard, but you could take your Potions' Owl at the end of next year. Because this is a NEWT level potion you brewed, publication of the article shortly thereafter would get you your NEWT, especially considering the ground-breaking nature of your thesis." He grinned at her shocked expression.

"We can explain the accident as a special project approved by Professor Snape, and that the hair was just an unexpected contamination. A Second-year, who shall remain nameless, gave you the cat hair as a prank, not realizing the seriousness of messing with polyjuice."

The cat-girl looked at him, eyes wide and ears slightly bent back. That was the cat equivalent of astonished disbelief, Harry decided, based on the way her emotions spiked.

He smiled. "Leave the git to me. He will co-operate." The 'or else' was left unspoken.

"I'll be here first thing tomorrow morning, at seven, with Mr. Potter, and we'll start the first series of pictures."

As he turned away, he said, "Don't worry about the Goblins and Monday. A glamour will suffice for your appearance in public."

(◎_⊙)

"Good Morning, Miss Granger," Gilderoy said, a yawning Harry following him around the rolling curtains separating Hermione's bed from the others in the ward. Hermione blinked at them sleepily, their arrival awakening her.

"I have the camera." He held up the item. He handed it to Harry and quickly showed him how to operate it, including loading in new film, while Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up.

He pulled her from the bed and had Harry take a picture of them, with Gilderoy smiling broadly and Hermione looking confused.

"Excellent! Miss Granger, I took the liberty of drawing up a list of the pictures we'll need for your thesis." He moved one of the screens over to provide a neutral backdrop. "You stand there," he directed her. "Turn your back to us . . . yes, just like that. Now take off your gown." At her hesitation and horrified look, he added, "Not to worry, my dear young Witch — you are furred! We cannot see anything that you might consider embarrassing at this stage of the game. In fact, you are far better covered than any of the times that you visited the French Rivera with your parents!" At the mention of the Rivera she gave him a sharp look — how had he known they had been there? — but somewhat mollified, she complied. Gilderoy wanded the gown to her bed.

"Excellent! Harry take the first picture of her. Okay, Miss Granger, turn forty-five degrees to your left. Picture, Harry. Excellent, now another forty-five degrees for a profile. Picture, Harry. Now, Miss Granger, turn to your right so we see you at a forty-five degree angle. Picture. Another forty-five to the right for a profile. Picture, Harry."

It was at this point that Madam Pomfrey interrupted, "PROFESSOR LOCKHART! What are you doing?"

After his explanation and a subtle confundus spell, she returned to her office mollified with the understanding that this was all in the name of advancing their understanding of Magic. Nothing naughty going on here!

"Now, Harry, a close-up of her tail. Now the tip." By the time they finished with close-ups of her ears, as well as her eyes, nose, mouth, teeth, hands, fingers, feet, and toes the little Witch so used to his commands that she didn't even bat an eye when Harry took full-frontal pictures and then moved in close for her chest. That she now had six instead of two simply provided a few more pictures and outside of a moment of stunned surprise from Harry, they finished up rather quickly. All told, Harry used up two rolls of film.

As Gilderoy explained, they didn't know exactly which pictures would be most useful, so it was better to have too many than too few. "Be prepared" was his motto, after all. Harry would develop the pictures and put them in a well-warded filing case for Hermione's thesis.

He taught them the Notice-Me-Not and silencing spells so they wouldn't be disturbed while taking the pictures.

Gilderoy snickered as he left Harry and Hermione having their breakfast. By the end of January, both children wouldn't even realize that the final week's pictures would be of the Witch completely without fur. And neither would think anything unusual about it — and that should help move their relationship along!