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Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, ideas, and situations created by JR Rowling and owned by her and her publishers. I own the original elements & characters. No money is being made by me, and no trademark or copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter V


"That boy is even more arrogant, and not to mention stupid, than I had ever thought," Snape stated.

"Severus, perhaps you do not understand the conditions of the duel. . . ."

"Oh, I understand them perfectly," Snape said with real relish. "Anything goes, and it's legal."

"If you should use a Class One spell, or even worse an Unforgivable, first. . . ."

"Then I cannot surrender, I have to go on until I'm dead or unable to respond," Snape said, dismissing the very idea of either possibility. "I can finally teach that arrogant brat a lesson."

"Severus. . . ."

"I shall have to invite the werewolf," Snape mused. "It's a shame that Black cannot attend."

"Severus. . . ."

"I shall have to make certain that McGonagall will be in the front row as well."

"Severus!"

"Oh, what is it?" Snape demanded.

Dumbledore suddenly, for the first time since 1981, had real doubts. Could Harry have been right about Severus? That would mean swallowing Harry's entire story, at least tentatively, something which Dumbledore still did not like all the implications of.

"Well?" Snape demanded.

"Very well, Severus, I have tried to warn you. If I can secure the services of Horace Slughorn, you will be the Defense teacher this upcoming year."

Snape gleefully took his leave from the Headmaster's Office. Dumbledore shook his head. He would talk to Moody about being a security consultant until Harry dealt with Severus, and then Dumbledore would see where things stood. Even if Severus were still as redeemable as Dumbledore hoped, if he could not fight a fair duel with Harry, he could not be fully trusted in the upcoming conflict.



Harry finished showing the Grangers around the Manor. They accepted, reluctantly, why they could not be told its name or location. They were impressed, despite their dislike of the Muggle landed gentry.

"Are you some kind of magical lord?" Emma asked her host at one point.

"Yes and no," Harry said.

"That's helpful," Dan teased.

"I'm not eligible for the House of Lords or anything like that," Harry said. "There's a set of Muggle regulations about that. On the other hand, the concept of lordship goes further back in time than those regulations. Lords were those who controlled certain areas or clans. Some Scots lairds and German titles were similar in more recent periods. In that respect, yes, I am a lord, two or three times over."

"Does that mean anything, in magical society?" Emma asked.

"Not really," Hermione said.

"Actually, yes," Harry corrected. "The Wizengamot, the governing body of the British Ministry, is primarily an oligarchy. There are fifty seats and when a member dies or is kicked out, the new member is selected by the others of the group or subgroup that person represented. Five seats are reserved for the Minister, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and three of the Department Heads chosen by the Minister. Since it takes a vote of thirty to dismiss a Minister, that gives any incumbent a fair advantage."

The older Grangers nodded their understanding, while Hermione's eyes were wide, as none of this was openly explained in the books she'd read. Harry went on, "Fifteen seats are reserved for the heads of the so-called Original First Families, the one hundred and twenty-three families which founded the Wizengamot back in 924. Dumbledore and I would be examples. Right now, there are only sixty-three people left eligible, because of intermarriage. I am eligible in at least four different ways, for example."

The three Grangers nodded.

"Some of those family heads will never be really considered for seats, of course," Harry went on. "For example, Mister Weasley's great uncle is head of the Weasley family, and lives in a small cottage and barely interacts with his family, let alone anyone else." Seeing there were no questions, Harry continued, "Other families were added to the Original First Families, or the Most Noble Families as they are also called. Right now, there are ninety-six heads of families, plus the Most Noble Family heads, who are eligible for a further fifteen seats. So, we have fifteen seats drawn from sixty-three people, and a further fifteen drawn from a hundred and fifty-nine. The other fifteen are appointed by the Wizengamot as a whole. Right now, fourteen of the fifteen more-or-less open seats are drawn from the two groups of First Families, either the Heads of the House or other notable members, as are two of the five Ministry members."

"I never realized that it was that restrictive," Hermione said, aghast.

Harry nodded. "And you know a lot of the heirs, because of the attrition of families during Voldemort's rising. Just in our Year at Hogwarts, Susan Bones, Neville, and myself are three heirs of the Original First Families; while Kevin Entwhistle is the younger son of an heir and Millicent Bulstrode would be an heir if the three remaining males in her family die without magical children. Malfoy and Goyle are the eldest sons of Heirs to the other level First Families."

Hermione frowned. "What about Susan's aunt. . . ?"

"The daughter of the last male heir of the Bones line would inherit before the sister," Harry pointed out.

"Oh, of course." Another idea occurred to Hermione. "And what about Sirius?"

"Sirius is head of the Black line, a Noble First Family, but not Original or Most Noble, as they would call it. If he dies without magical children and without restoring Andromeda Tonks, then the eligibility dies out, as Draco is eligible already. The entire group of First Families would then appoint a new family, or more likely an additional branch of a First Family, to the group. It was decided back in 1803 that the Original group would not be allowed to drop below the current numbers.

"So what counts is magic, not legitimacy?" Dan asked, interested despite himself.

"If there are any legitimate, magical heirs, the illegitimate don't count," Harry said with a shrug. "Just like if there are any magical male heirs they can find, women don't count. They do allow for magic skipping one generation, at the discretion of the head of the family, or if it will prevent a line from dying out. In addition, there are two types of marriage, and the children of a magical bonding would come ahead of children from a legal consort."

"So Voldemort could have entered power legitimately? At least of some sort, I mean." Seeing the confused looks on her parents faces, Hermione explained, "He was descended from Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders of Hogwarts, who must have been from a Founding Family."

"True, but the Gaunts hadn't won a seat in hundreds of years. Riddle was the illegitimate son of the last known heiress, Merope Gaunt, and a Muggle she'd seduced with a love potion. It would have taken Riddle decades of hard work to restore his name to one worth being considered for the Wizengamot, not to mention needing at least some form of fortune."

"Not to be crass, Harry. . . ." Dan started, but didn't know how to finish.

"Money?" Dan nodded. "Well, you know all about magical taxes, right?"

All three Grangers looked confused.

"Really? Well, I'll let Hermione research on how the Ministry was put under the Duchy of Lancaster in 1663, and the deal which allows all magical land to be subject to no governmental taxation. Essentially, we pay very little in taxes. There are no death duties, for example, and we pay a one Knut per Galleon VAT on magical items, and two Knuts per Galleon on non-magical items sold through magical shops."

"That's . . . that's almost nothing!" Emma exclaimed.

Harry nodded. "And, since magical ownership falls under a special trust of the Duchy of Lancaster, we don't pay any Crown taxes on most of it. We do have to pay for any utilities, but even in the cities most magical people don't bother with electricity. We do have to pay for water and the drains, but we mostly use a system that looks like gas lighting and heat, but which is magical, and both cheap to install and free to run. The Americans have a system that imitates panel lighting and which can run electrical appliances with an adaptor. The Purebloods here are fighting its import."

"That figures," Hermione said.

"In addition, anything like income taxes on Muggle income, Muggle VAT, licenses, et cetera are dealt with on a sliding scale that makes magical accountants swoon. Basically, you pay upfront, and if you fill out the right forms, the Crown or local authority keeps between ten and thirty-three percent depending on which tax we're talking about, the Ministry gets between a fifth and a third, and you get the rest back."

"Really?" Dan said, amazed.

Harry nodded. "Gather up all your tax records, put the house and business in Hermione's name, and I'll give it all to my accountants at Gringotts. They'll get you your money back, less any commission, going back to the date of Hermione's letter."

"We'll be sure to do that," Emma said.

"So, we pay very little in taxation, especially compared to Muggle Britain. For most other types of wealth, we can set up special trusts, so we have to pay almost nothing on certain types of income, including no taxes on most magical income. I couldn't draw on it before this upcoming year, of course, but last year the Potter Trust brought in over twenty-seven million pounds income from the Muggle world, net. It had to pay out under half a million pounds in taxes and accounting fees. The Trust had to pay less than ten thousand Galleons in fees and taxes on the magical income of just over two million Galleons." Harry smiled. "Does that answer your questions?"

"It sure does," Dan had to admit. If Hermione and Harry did stay together, at least Hermione would be taken care of. More importantly, it was clear that Hermione was not going to be overwhelmed by the teen's good looks, fame, money, and social position, nor did Harry seemed spoiled by any of that.

In short, the Grangers still had numerous concerns, considering their daughter's age, but some at least had been answered.



That evening, Severus Snape knelt before his true master. "What is your bidding on this matter, my Master?"

"You wish to cripple, if not kill, the Potter boy, don't you, Severus?"

"Yes, my lord," Snape admitted.

"Even if you were to make it look like an accident, I do not believe the Old Man would allow you to get away with killing his little protege." Snape had to admit to himself that was likely true. "So, you cannot kill Potter, or bring him to me, so long as I find you useful at Hogwarts. The news that you may be moving on to the Defense position pleases me. So, the only question is, do you cripple or at least serious beat young Potter, or do you allow him to win so that he has an over-inflated opinion of himself. . . ." Snape could not quite suppress a wince at that thought, "or do you merely humiliate the Boy?"

Snape did not dare move, let alone make a suggestion.

Voldemort honored Snape by thinking aloud. "If you humiliate the Boy, you will likely merely drive him to try harder, and Dumbledore may even, finally, find him some adequate tutoring. It would make no difference in the long run, but it would make killing him a bit more troublesome if it takes too long to get to him again."

"An over-confident Potter would be a good thing, but that would undermine your position at Hogwarts and undermine my position with certain elements. I could use that to draw out any waverers, but right now I prefer having numbers and ears everywhere."

Voldemort thought a bit more and came to a decision. "Yes. If you can cripple Potter and make it look like an accident, do so. If you cannot, you do not have to go so far as to let him win, but make him look good. Cripple him, or make him and his friends somewhat over-confident."

"Yes, my lord." Snape did not smile, but knew what he was going to do.

Voldemort had no doubts which Snape would choose either if it were possible.



The next morning after breakfast, Emma cornered her daughter. Hermione gave in to the situation by crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes, proving herself to still being a teen. "I hope you and Harry are at least practicing safe sex," Emma stated.

"I'm very careful when I swallow," Hermione stated, looking her mother in the eye. "Something I remember you confessing you started doing at my age. And don't think that anything you might say to the Hogwarts people will so much as raise an eyebrow. Promised couples, or those in a prearranged marriage, often engage in fellatio fairly openly. Those who aren't in either arrangement have to resort to places like broom closets, the Astronomy Tower, or empty class rooms. For those who are, though, there's an alcove off each of the common rooms, where the witch can strengthen the couple's magical and emotional connections by sucking her promised one and swallowing his essence. The only rules are nothing can really show except the wizard's penis. I've seen perhaps a dozen couples performing the ritual probably close to a hundred times in four years, and if it weren't considered rude to watch any given couple too often, I could have watched at least once a night since there's another room, where couples in different Houses can get together."

Continuing, while her mother's jaw dropped in shock, Hermione said, "It's also common for all of us to engage in exchanging hand-jobs. I probably gave Percy Weasley a dozen hand-jobs my First year, to thank him for helping me along. I offered Harry and Ron handjobs after saving me from the troll, but they were too shy to accept. Harry offered me one for helping him learn spells during the Triwizard. We all decided that we were too close to do that, as it's seen as an impersonal act. I have received dozens of finger jobs for tutoring." Hermione shrugged. "Harry and I are a magical couple, and will act as such."

Dazed, Emma wandered off. Hermione smirked. The custom of officially acknowledged couples sharing fellatio was real, although a bit more private than she had let on. Percy had convinced her to give him some hand-jobs, pedophile that he was. Hermione had soon caught on, and got him to stop by threatening to go to McGonagall. The rest, however, had been a gross invention.

"What's the evil smirk for?" Harry asked, coming up behind her.

"Just blowing my mother's mind," Hermione said. "I told her about the 'sucking corner' and exaggerated the custom somewhat."

Harry was a bit surprised Hermione would use the vulgar expression, instead of the slightly more proper 'couples' corner'. "What exactly did you tell her?"

A bit red-faced, Hermione did so. Harry was not happy about Percy's actions. "Did he do that to other First years?" he asked. "After our First year, I mean."

"Not that I know of, but I suppose he could have," Hermione admitted.

Harry merely nodded, and filed Percy away to be dealt with later, if necessary. "Hand-jobs for favors?" The open-fellatio had both embarrassed and thrilled Harry (boys were not allowed to watch, but he had sometimes heard the sound effects), but he had never heard of the hand-job exchange, and was both glad it wasn't real and aware that Percy was likely not the only person to have used the first to convince young students to do the second.

"She knows she can't withdraw me from the magical world without my permission," Hermione said. "So, I gave her some other things to think about."

Harry shook his head, as if to clear it. Finally he said, "Anyway, your parents never did object to our making a promise."

"That's true," Hermione agreed.

Harry got down on one knee. "We've been best friends, closer than friends in many ways, for nearly four years. We're still too young to be absolutely certain, but I do know I love you. I would be yours for now, and will consider this the start of a formal relationship. Would you be mine?" He held out a small box.

Hermione took the box with shaking hands and opened it. A promise ring should be silver, or at least silvery, and have some sort of knot in the design with no stones. This ring was a shining Celtic knot. "I am yours, Harry Potter,' Hermione whispered.

Harry took the ring and slipped it on her ring finger and then kissed her left hand. Harry stood, and the pair kissed deeply. When they broke the kiss, Hermione sniffled from happiness. To cover her emotions a bit, she asked, "Harry is this white gold instead of silver?"

"No," Harry answered, "it's platinum instead of silver. That's how precious you are to me. It's also one of the six promise rings I know are in the Potter vault. It's been used eight times before, and each ended in a happy marriage, at least according to the notes."

"Did you give this to me or Luna last time?" Hermione asked.

"No," Harry answered. "I asked at one point if you wanted a promise ring or an engagement ring. You said you wanted a wedding ring, a week after Voldemort was defeated. Luna didn't want a promise ring, either."

Hermione gave Harry a watery smile. "I love and cherish thee, beloved," she said in the formal phrase of the promised.

"I love and cherish thee, beloved," Harry agreed. They kissed again and then went to their bedroom to kiss in more intimate ways.



Ginny watched Ron tossing gnomes out of the Burrow's garden. After one hit a tree, Ginny asked, "Upset, are we?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Ron snarled. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," Ginny agreed, "I am. Still, even if Harry and Hermione are together like Dumbledore claims, that hardly matters. How many Fifth years do you know who got married? Not many who weren't in pre-arranged marriages, right? So, I can still end up with Harry."

"Doesn't it bother you that she and Harry might be . . . doing things?" Ron demanded.

"A little," Ginny agreed, "but I'm not all that jealous. I won't like to see them snogging and would loath seeing them in the sucking corner" -- Ron went dark red -- "but if I get all snarky, I'll just ruin my close friendship with Hermione and lessen any chances I might have with Harry in the long run. What is it you want, Ron? Hermione for the long-term, or did you just want to grab her before Harry did? I mean, it was almost a given that she would at least casually date one of you."

"But she should be mine!" Ron whined.

"Why?" Ginny asked. "Because you got all jealous once you saw her at the Yule Ball? You didn't care before that."

"What makes you say that?" Ron demanded.

"You didn't think enough to ask her out first, and the way you finally did ask her, it looked like if Fleur had agreed to date you, you wouldn't have cared if Harry had asked her then."

"But then I would have had Fleur," Ron protested.

Ginny shook her head. "I swear, you make me look mature. If you act like this around Harry and Hermione, you'll lose Harry as a friend and any chance with Hermione."

"And you won't let your temper loose, even worse than I will, if they do go to the sucking corner?" Ron demanded.

"I won't," Ginny said. Of course, she could say that because she knew that even then Harry could likely have at least two consorts. Even if Hermione somehow had staked one claim, Ginny was determined to get the other.

Ron pouted, and went back to tossing gnomes.



Emma tracked down her daughter the night before returning home. "Yes, Mother?" Hermione asked warily.

"You can guess that I disapprove of what you and Harry are doing," Emma said. "I also suppose you could guess what your father would say."

Hermione nodded. "I know. And I think you also know that Harry has the power to override any of that, if I asked him to."

Emma frowned, and decided to go to her main point. "What did you mean when you said swallowing Harry's semen would strengthen your bonds to him."

Hermione shrugged. "Just that. Muggle myths and old theories and 'old wives' tales' often have some magical truth behind them. I am a magical being, as is Harry. Our blood is a magical substance, with special properties. So is Harry's semen, and so will my breast milk. One of many reasons why the magical-born look down on us Muggle-born is because magical mother's milk strengthens the magical core. Not much, but a little."

"We weren't talking about milk," Emma pointed out.

"No, but we're getting there. Willingly ingesting a wizard's semen slowly binds you to him. As in makes you his soulmate."

Emma was aghast. "Why make yourself subservient to anyone? And especially at your age!"

"It's not THAT addicting," Hermione said. "If I stopped, it would wear off over time, and the physical withdrawal symptoms are not as nearly as bad as breaking a combined nicotine/caffeine addiction, although I would cry a lot more."

"How long. . . ."

"After it's taken it's basic effect, which would be drinking from Harry at least three times a week for a month? Maybe a year." Hermione shrugged. "The magical world is different from yours, Mother, at least in all the details. What's supposed to matter in the Muggle world these days is talent and drive, with some luck thrown in. Still, you know as well as I that family connections and money still matter in most jobs. That someone whose family is considered a 'county family', like yours, or who went to, say, Eton and Cambridge like Daddy, will have an advantage over other people in many professions."

Emma could not deny that.

"So, start off realizing my deep feelings for Harry," Hermione said, "and his for me. Without those, I admit what I'm about to say would sound . . . calculating at best. Taking those into consideration, however, I had to think, where do I want us to go? I already knew, from the time I was eleven, that I would be following Harry Potter. Before I left after our First year, I knew that he would be the greatest wizard of my time. I don't know how I knew, but I did."

"I now know that for a fact. Since we're still something of an Eighteenth century culture, let me put it in those terms. I, a brilliant shop-keeper's daughter, am forming a relationship with the first Duke of Marlborough, the first Lord Rothschild, George Washington, and I suspect Thomas Paine all rolled into one. In terms of raw magic, my skills and talent might be at the top of the normal curve, but still a real, very large step down from Harry's. They also mean little, unless I manage to get a job in one of the few departments in the Ministry where they count more than background, and there aren't many where they do. Also, I know I want children. Having a Muggle-born for a mother is a black mark. It's not as bad as having a Muggle-born for a father, or a Muggle as either parent, but it is."

"Say I were to marry Ron or Neville, one an impoverished Pure- Blood with little political pull and the other a Pure-Blood seen as being far less capable than he really is. My children would be at a huge disadvantage. If I were to marry Dean, a Black Muggle-born, well, our children would face just about every prejudice there is out there."

"And Harry?" Emma asked.

"Harry will defeat Voldemort," Hermione stated. "That, coupled with his family name and fortune, well, he could probably impregnate fifty Blacks, fifty Indians, and fifty Chinese -- all of them Muggles -- on successive days in Diagon Alley and Wizarding Europe would still be kissing their backsides, when they aren't being jealous." Hermione shook her head. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't love Harry anyway. If he were a poor Muggle- born and there were no Dark Lord after him, I would still want to marry him, because he is so fundamentally good. I would just be waiting to be this physical until our Sixth or Seventh year or after."

"Then why do it now?" Emma asked.

"Because Harry was abused by his family," Hermione said. "He needs love and affection to get him through the fight with Voldemort. And I love him."


Unknown to Hermione and Emma, a rather embarrassed (if mostly pleased) Harry slipped away from the entrance to the room they were in.