#and Buckingham house has been lived in by strongly magical people for long enough that she has a personality

[wellpresseddaisy]

Use Any Means pt. 8

Once free of the adults, Hermione and Ron set about enlarging their trunks and finding what they wanted.

“Reckon we should try the day room.” Ron said. “Harry isn’t waking any time soon.”

“Yes, I suppose we should.” Hermione sighed, taking one last look at Harry. He really wasn’t going to wake in the next…probably several hours.

They went across the hall, Ron opening the door first. Intellectually, she knew they were perfectly safe, but her wand slid into her palm anyway. Ron felt about the inside of the doorway and she heard a click. Lights came up slowly.

“Huh.” Ron muttered, moving into the room. “Never thought the Blacks would go in for that system.”

“Which system?” Hermione asked automatically. She peered about, but they stood in the doorway of a perfectly nice and rather large room.

A fire crackled in the grate and a sofa and armchairs were grouped around it, rather like the Gryffindor common room. Bookshelves lined the wall opposite the fireplace with a table and chairs standing before them. Something that looked rather like an old Victrola and radio cabinet combined lurked in a corner by the windows and a telescope stood before the wide wall of window, as if someone had just left it. A small sideboard crowded in next to the telescope with a steaming tea urn on it. A sturdy tea service stood next to the urn, ready for use.

“Er, magical switches. Families with squibs like ‘em because then no one has to be forever asking for lights to be turned on, if they use lightstones.”

“And there are…lightstones…here?” She tested the sofa, remembering Grimmauld Place, and then sat back. “This really is lovely. The light is much nicer than candles.”

A footrest sidled across the floor and bumped her ankles until she put her feet up. “Thank you.” She reached down and patted it.

“And before you ask, the switches work by completing a rune sequence.” Ron sat beside her. “I know that much about them.”

“It’s been such a strange day.” Hermione murmured, leaving the problem of magical circuits for another day. “And that’s saying something for us.”

“Not every day your best friend has a screaming phantasm burst out of his forehead. I reckon it’s better out than in, though.”

Hermione snorted a laugh. “Oh, we really oughtn’t laugh.”

“Hermione, we either laugh or we go mad. Harry would be laughing with you, you know.”

“It’s just…Ron it’s like something out of a gothic novel. Screaming phantasms, mysterious guardians…I feel like I’ve been dropped into the middle of a book.”

“He isn’t that mysterious. He’s probably in what Mum call the ‘stud books’, but only when she’s had a bit of sherry. Mum at least knows who he is.”

“Well he certainly made an entrance.” Hermione huffed.

“You could just see him wondering what the hell he’d got himself into.” Ron snickered. “Between Harry all over blood and both of us looking like we were going to go over at any minute and your Mum…the poor bloke didn’t think he’d get dropped into a madhouse today.”

“At least Mum’s having fun.” Hermione couldn’t hold back a giggle. “She looked like all her Christmases came at once today.”

“If Harry turns out to be related through the Prewett branch, your mum is going to have a spasm.”

“She’ll have six, honestly. Do you think Harry will be…do you think Mr. Du will…” Hermione trailed off, biting her lip.

“Harry’s going to be fine. He’s got a proper paterfamilias now, not that Sirius didn’t try, but Azkaban…he wasn’t healthy enough, really.” Ron patted her hand. “It’ll be interesting seeing Harry come up against that.”

“A paterfamilias?” Hermione’s brow wrinkled as she thought. “Isn’t that a bit…”

“The big families always have one person at the head. We’ve got both since Mum is the Prewett materfamilias and Dad’s the Weasley pater. If Harry is…that could be why he’s always listened to mum as much as he listens to anyone and let her fuss. And why he wanted Sirius to approve of him.”

“And there’s magic bound up in this?” Hermione asked slowly.

“Family magic. It goes both ways. You want the pater or mater of your family to be pleased with you but they also want the whole family content with their decisions. It’s why Mum’s been so affected by Percy. Perce and I were always more Prewett than Weasley.” Ron tried to explain. “We can see if there are any books on Family Magic and relationships? There are limits to it.”

“That would help, I think. You do things your mum would hate all the time, Ron.”

“Well, yeah, because we aren’t mindless. The pater and mater bonds can’t make you do anything, or at least mum and dad don’t use them like that. You just feel extra awful when the head of your family isn’t pleased with you. And they feel awful when you aren’t pleased with them, although mum said that kicks in more as children get older and with adult family members. Family Magic isn’t going to poke at you to fix it when your littles are angry they had to go to bed. It kicks in more for big things.”

“But some heads of families could use them to…to force a member of their family into something?” Hermione couldn’t help but shiver.

“Reckon they could. They aren’t supposed to be used like that, so far as I know. It’s meant to be a good thing. Safe, you know? A pater or mater is there to be relied on.”

“Sometimes I think you were really lucky in your parents, Ron.”

“I know I was. Don’t fret too much about Harry, yeah? He’s going to be fine. Mr. Du…he’s actually used as an example of what can happen with an unplanned succession. Something happens with your magic when you’re the next pater or mater. He apparated from Oxford to Wales, blowing a hole through the border wards, when it happened. His first thought was for the younger children in the family. And Harry already feels safe with him. Did you see the way he curled in?”

“He didn’t do that with Sirius.” Hermione admitted after a moment. “I worry so much, Ron. He’s just so Harry and people want to take advantage of that.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that here. Not with—” Ron cut off as they heard a decided yowling coming down the hall. “Didn’t you send Crookshanks with Gin?”

“Maybe they have housecats?” Hermione pressed her lips together. “Cats do love Harry.”

A soft tap at the open door had the two of them looking that way.

“I’m sorry, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, but he seemed determined to get here. He came in through the kitchen like he owned the place.” Nell looked down at the ginger tom. “He wouldn’t let anyone else take the message, either.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Hermione crossed to the doorway. “I sent him home with a friend for the evening since we weren’t sure what would happen. Crooksy, did you escape from Ginny?”

Crookshanks, looking inordinately pleased with himself, twined around Hermione’s ankles until she took the note from his collar.

“It looks like he put up such a fuss that Ginny let him out.” She shook her head over the note. “You, sir, have wretched manners.”

Crookshanks purred for a moment and then trotted across the hall to sit outside the sick room door.

“He wants Harry.” Hermione sighed.

“Miss, I don’t know if Nurse will approve.” Nell looked nervously down the hell.

“Well, she’s going to have to if she wants any peace. He likes to sit guard when Harry’s not feeling well. We’ll likely have Hedwig here, too, if Crooksy’s shown up.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nell’s voice came faintly.

“Harry’s owl. She’s uncommonly attached.” Hermione explained, distracted as she opened the door for Crooksy. “Go on and purr for him since you’re so determined.”

“Oh, Nurse won’t like an owl in the sick room.”

“I’ll handle Nurse, if need be.” Hermione promised. “I’m so sorry, Nell. We’re a bit of an odd bunch and we’ve landed on you when you aren’t even ready for anyone, much less our…companions.”

“It’s certainly livened everything up, Miss.” Nell confided. Wouldn’t everyone below stairs be fit to burst that she’d gotten an apology.

“We really are sorry if there’s any trouble with Nurse.” Ron joined them. “It’s just Crookshanks and Hedwig seem to think Harry is theirs. I can ask my mum to explain, if it’ll help?”

“If it comes down to it, it just might help.” Nell smiled at them. “Would you mind if I let everyone know that, er, Crookshanks came all the way from King’s Cross to you and His Grace? And that we can expect his owl this evening?”

Hermione suddenly realized that Nell couldn’t be much older than she and Ron. She looked terribly excited by this turn of events.

“Of course you can. You can tell everyone that Crooksy was so determined to get to Harry that he nearly kicked the door out of his carrier. I don’t know what his trip across London was like, but I’m sure you can manage.” She couldn’t help but grin back conspiratorially.

“Oooh, Miss, thank you! Would you, by any chance, need help with dressing tomorrow morning?”

Ah, yes, the human urge to move up in the world.

“Do you know I’ve never had help from anyone other than my mum? Do you know any hair charms?” She couldn’t help herself. If someone with even a modicum of training wanted to help, then she certainly was willing.

“Oh Miss, do I ever! And you with such lovely hair. I’ll do it up a treat!”

“Thank you, Nell. I would appreciate the help very much.”

“I’ll attend you in the morning before breakfast, Miss.” Nell scuttled off with a story to tell the servants' hall and hope that maybe she could be a proper Lady’s Maid one day. Perhaps Miss Granger would like to wear…oh, she’d look lovely in the pale colors in fashion for young ladies. They had that pale green linen in the attic…they could make up one of those nifty one-hour dresses in no time flat. And she was sure they’d have shoes to fit that would match. Young Mr. Weasley would look dashing in breeches and top boots, she reckoned. Maybe he’d appreciate a word of advice, too.

“What happened to your democratic belief in equality and not being waited on?” Ron teased.

“It went out the window with the possibility of taming the mess on my head, Ron. Without a gallon of Sleakeazy’s. In any case, Nell can practice on me.” Hermione answered tartly, stepping back into the day room. She stopped, blinking, and then went off into a peal of laughter.

Ron bumped her from behind until she moved forward and snorted. A multi-level cat tree now lived near the window on the bookcase side of the sideboard and a well-padded cat bed sat on the hearth, just where it would get the most heat. A deluxe owl perch stood before the window on the other side, between the sideboard and the Victrola cabinet, with an owl pass-through in the lower panes.

They would both swear the room was bigger than it had been only five minutes before. If a room could be smug, the day room managed.

“I think this place loves Harry already.” Ron said unsteadily.

“Well, at least Crooksy and Hedwig are welcome.” Hermione responded.

“Nurse is going to think we’re horribly unhygienic.” Ron snickered.

“Owls in the sick room. Whatever will we come up with next.” Hermione giggled helplessly, dropping onto the sofa as the day caught up with her.

Ron said nothing, but flopped next to her and howled with laughter. Hedwig wasn’t there to be offended, anyway.

They both knew she was cleaner than some Hogwarts students.