In the summer, my parents invited Susie and Amelia to come with us to Spain. At first, Susan was incredibly embarrassed about swimwear and chose the most modest option with shorts and a t-shirt. But by the end of the vacation, she had settled in. She and I barely left the water. Aunt Amelia, on the contrary, never went swimming once - for her, having grown up in the magical world, even shorts with a t-shirt were unacceptable. But she walked around, admired the country, lay with a book in a deck chair, and also enjoyed the trip. The whole vacation she wore long summer dresses made of thin fabric. Though for wizards it doesn't really matter what fabric it is - cooling charms are always at hand. This time my parents could also enjoy comfortable coolness when it was over thirty degrees outside. It's good to be friends with wizards, but it's still more pleasant to live in our world. Dad, being a detective story lover, told Amelia a lot about Muggle investigation methods. Wizards don't even know about fingerprints (which is strange, since there are Muggle-born among the Aurors), and the head of the DMLE got excited. Watch out, criminals of the magical world!
In Spain and after returning to England, I continued receiving letters from Marcus Flint. Marcus begged, Marcus threatened, Marcus tried to bargain - Marcus wanted normal teeth. I ignored them, mentally sending Flint somewhere far away - as if I'd introduce him to normal people. But when my parents found out about the letters, they said I was wrong. I should help the boy, because I still have to live in the magical world. At least five more years minimum. And the Flints, by my own words, are a pure-blood and influential family - they have the power to poison my existence.
So now I'm meeting with father and son Flint in Howard Goldstein's office. He'll help us make an agreement. I wanted the contract to state that the Flint family cannot harm, directly or indirectly, my family and friends, cannot reveal information about us orally, in writing, by gesture, or mentally to anyone. Both Flints were stunned by such terms, the elder muttered something about insolent Mudbloods, and we began to negotiate. In the end, Howard suggested I agree to protection for my family and three friends of my choice, and non-disclosure of information related to the Muggle world. Because my initial conditions were too harsh - no one would have agreed to them. In exchange, I asked to add a clause allowing me to smack Marcus on the back of the head with impunity every time he uses the word "Mudblood" in the presence of my parents, or otherwise insults them or other Muggles. Marcus scratched his head (already itching, sensing what's coming), clarified whether he could talk about Mudbloods and Muggles elsewhere, and, receiving an affirmative answer, agreed to the contract. At school he was held back for a second year - I hope this time it's the last.
The contract was signed by both - Marcus himself and the Head of House. And I led them out of the Leaky Cauldron to meet my parents. The dental office made an unforgettable impression on Flint. I think I now know what his new boggart looks like. He'll be wearing braces all year, periodically leaving Hogwarts, and by next summer he has every chance of getting straight teeth. My parents decided to charge the standard fee - that signed contract was our main benefit in this case.
Having assessed the income from selling the basilisk hide and finally feeling like a wealthy woman, I thought it would be nice for such a wealthy woman to acquire slaves. Well, that is, to get a house-elf. Over the year, the tragedy with Dobby had somewhat smoothed over and no longer made me wake up at night, so why not? It turned out there was still no way. Elves appear at places of power and belong to the owner of the place of power. They only sell elves in exceptional cases and there's a waiting list. But Griphook promised he'd keep an eye out.
When an owl brought another Daily Prophet and I read the news that a Ministry employee's family had won a trip to Egypt, I realized what I had forgotten. I should have tried to master the Patronus. And now it's too late - you can't use a wand in summer, and the Dementors will be encountered already on the train. I look grimly at Pettigrew, who sits on Ron's shoulder and shows off his mangled paw.
A week later, Sirius Black was already grinning with a mad look from the Prophet's cover. God, do they not feed them at all in Azkaban? It would be more humane to shoot them. But death sentences are almost never handed down in the magical world - maybe they're afraid of backlash?
A week before my birthday, Harry came to visit me. When it came to choosing subjects for the third year, I said that if you can't take everything, it would be good to choose those related to what you have an aptitude for. I showed Harry my blood test results and suggested he also get tested by the goblins. Muttering something like: "Each to their own, and Hermione about studies," he agreed. And I'm going to take all subjects to see if I might get a Time-Turner. You can always drop something later.
So, what we have:
Harry James Potter - pure-blood
Father: James Charlus Potter - pure-blood
Mother: Lily Rose Potter - Muggle-born
Magical father: Sirius Orion Black - pure-blood
Magical mother: Alice Laura Longbottom - pure-blood
Gifts: battle magic, artificing, Parseltongue
Three whole gifts - I'm jealous.
To Harry's question about who Alice is and whether that's the same Sirius who's now glaring malevolently from all the "Wanted" posters, the goblin said bluntly that Alice is incapacitated and has been lying in St. Mungo's in the ward for hopeless cases for more than ten years. And Sirius Black was serving a life sentence in Azkaban for betraying the Potters (at these words Harry nearly fell off his chair). Falsely accused, the goblin added after a pause. And explained that if it were true, Sirius would have been killed by backlash long ago.
Leading the shocked Harry away to drown the news in ice cream, I suggested contacting Amelia Bones and sharing the news. Maybe something could be done for Sirius. Harry so lacks a family member nearby. Of course, I'm now almost like an older sister to him, but only almost.
At home we sent an owl to Miss Bones the Elder. She arrived that same evening and the five of us held a council. My parents weren't too shocked by the fact of a judicial error, because such things happen in the ordinary world. I suspect it happens in the magical world too, it just remains unknown, since wizards haven't heard of any re-investigations or appeals. What shocked them much more was Black's appearance. Dad also said it would be more humane to shoot him. But Amelia grew darker and darker. The blood test result became one hundred percent proof of Sirius's innocence in the betrayal for her. But she couldn't change anything fundamental without Sirius himself. So she said she would try to cancel the authorization for the Dementor's Kiss, and asked Harry to immediately inform her if Sirius contacted him.
She also insisted that Harry give her a minor oath that until she gave permission, he wouldn't blab to anyone about Black's innocence. Because if this reached Fudge ahead of time, he might try to quickly eliminate Sirius to avoid dealing with the problems that a retrial would entail. When breaking a minor oath, a person doesn't lose life or magic, but can become quite seriously ill. Its advantage is that when a person is ready to break a promise, the oath reminds them with a painful sensation in the chest. That is, you can't accidentally blab, only intentionally. For some reason, Amelia didn't think to take an oath from me. But I probably wouldn't have given it anyway. Trust is trust, but it's better to be safe. And in Harry's case - a logical precaution. I bet the first person he'll want to tell will be a certain bearded storyteller.
After such news, Harry wasn't in the mood to go anywhere for his birthday. So we decided to celebrate it at home, with pizza, games, and a big cake that Mom and I made.
Guess who showed up and ruined everything?
At noon someone rang the doorbell. Albus Dumbledore discovered that the hero wasn't in place and decided that a happy birthday was definitely not what he needed. So he insisted on Harry's immediate return home. He preached that Harry was in danger because Sirius Black wanted to kill him. And at Miss Granger's house - he would definitely kill him, but at his aunt's - he would never be able to find him. It was pointless to say that Black would more likely find Harry at his relatives' than at a girl from another house. If this is alternative logic, it can't be fixed anymore, and if this is Dumbledore's scheming - it's not only pointless but dangerous, and we might all get it for disrupting his plans. Judging by how painfully Harry's face contorted, he was tempted several times to break the oath given to Amelia. I knew it - "don't tell anyone" for Harry means "don't tell anyone except Dumbledore." I was a good girl and pretended to be upset but understanding.
Dumbledore didn't refuse tea, ate half the cake by himself, and Apparated Harry to Privet Drive. Petunia immediately called asking what was wrong, and she and Mom spent a long time emotionally cursing "that bearded goat." Then we packed up the remains of the cake and pizza, and I went by Knight Bus to Little Whinging.
We decided not to provoke anyone and didn't invite Harry over anymore; instead, I came to him about five times in August by Knight Bus. The Muggle-repelling amulet worked on Aunt Marge just as well as on everyone else, so she wouldn't become an air balloon. Against Ripper, I gave Potter pepper spray - Marge found her toothy pet in tears and snot several times and threatened all punishments to neighborhood hooligans. And Harry, ignored by her, stood a meter and a half away and enjoyed the show. I tried to spot a large black dog, but unsuccessfully.
This year Augusta Longbottom softened a bit - Neville told her I helped him study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and allowed us to meet a couple of times for ice cream at Fortescue's. But these were the only few times Neville met with anyone during the summer. Grandmother also refused to invite any of Neville's friends over. Cruel. The tragedy with her son and daughter-in-law had changed her worldview too much, and Neville suffered because of it. No wonder it was so difficult for him to communicate with people at first.