Legend of a Warrior-Wizard
By D. H. Unter
Extract from the chapter: Introduction
In both the Muggle and Magical world King Arthur is revered as a Legend and a political mastermind. Not only was he a brilliant King and politician, but he was a warrior-wizard. He reigned over Britain during the latter part of the 5th Century and early part of the 6th Century….
Silence filled the room as the Headmaster of Hogwarts appeared to be trying to outstare the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Director. He looked between the woman and the Arrest Warrant on his desk. Then gave Kingsley Shacklebolt a betrayed look. The Heads of the Houses all appeared to be stunned.
“I beg your pardon, Madam Bones,” Albus Dumbledore stared at parchment on the desk.
“You’ve spent too many years playing mind games with everyone else, I am not sure if you even know what is good anymore,” Bones told him, “You have already put someone in hospital; I wonder what makes Harry Black so unique that you have manipulated his whole life, so he sees you as his saviour, are you just getting old or too up yourself?”
“Everything I have done is for the Greater Good. I have protected and nurtured our world, hiding it from the increasing Muggle presence,” Dumbledore replied calmly as if discussing Transfiguration or Sunday lunch. The herbology teacher looked at the man in horror; she had begun to see cracks in the last few years but had ignored them. Professor Flitwick was trying hard not to smile; he disliked Dumbledore for always defending Snape and continually promoting the Gryffindors though he bore no ill will towards Minerva. Professor McGonagall had somewhat expected this, especially after all the talks with Harry and some of the things she had learned.
“Surely this is a mistake; Albus Dumbledore is the Leader of the Light. He defeated Grindelwald. If he is arrested now, the Dark Lord will move on Hogwarts,” not surprisingly, it was Severus Snape that defended the Headteacher. He had the most to lose if the old man lost his position.
“I am beginning wonder about all those so-called feats he performed,” Bones suggested mildly making the Headmaster bristle, “However, as we at the Ministry are fair, the Headmaster’s trial will be honest and open so that he will be found innocent or guilty on his own merits.”
“The Ministry is not fair or open; you have got Death Eaters and dissidents working there, not to mention that fool Fudge,” Snape sneered before he could think about what he was saying. Rufus stared hard at the former Death Eater; he believed like Alastor Moody ‘a good Death Eater, was a locked-up Death Eater’ or preferably dead, he thought morbidly.
“You would do well to keep your mouth closed; I know all about your activities even if Dumbledore vouched for you. Though that avouchment is looking shady now,” Scrimgeour growled.
“You do not know the full story; Harry is the key to the downfall of Voldemort,” Dumbledore tried one last time.
“I do not see how a mere child will be the downfall of the greatest dark lord that has lived,” Scrimgeour responded, looking at the elderly Headmaster sceptically.
“Well then, I believe that it is time we parted ways. Voldemort is powerful, and I am needed. I will be of no use if I am locked away,” Dumbledore spoke as if he was having a normal everyday conversation. Proudfoot moved forward as if knowing what the man was going to do. Fawkes squawked at an unasked question from the Headmaster, turning away from the man he had bonded with. Dumbledore merely sighed, shaking his head with disappointment before holding on to Snape’s arm.
Thunder rang through the school as what appeared to be lightning flashed outside of the windows, blinding all those in the Headmaster’s office. When they had blinked spots out of their eyes, the former Headmaster and Potions Master were gone. In the corner, Fawkes cried silent tears for losing the man he once called a friend.
“Well, I will not say that was unexpected,” Kingsley spoke aloud. Then, Proudfoot performed some spells around the desk.
“He is gone, not on the grounds at all,” the man told his boss, who sighed.
“We had better get back and start handing out notices for the arrest of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape,” Amelia was worried; he was still a danger and a powerful enemy. She looked at the Board of Governor’s group, “are you alright for us to go?”
“We will be fine; we just need to sort out a new Headmaster or -mistress,” Marchbanks told the woman with a smile. The Law Enforcement personnel left, leaving the three teachers and the Board of Governors.
“Surely Minerva will be Headmistress as she is the most senior,” Pomona Sprout suggested.
“We were planning on speaking to Minerva before the new term. Were you happy being Deputy as well as Gryffindor Head of House?” Marchbanks asked the transfiguration teacher.
“To be perfectly honest, I felt like I was running the school for Albus most of the time,” she told the group.
“We were going to ask you to step down as Deputy because you have had less time for your lions lately. But look what has happened in Harry Black’s case,” the elderly governor explained to Minerva, who looked ashamed, but could not disagree with the woman.
“Who would you want as Head?” Flitwick asked, surprised they did not want Minerva, who had been the longest-serving teacher.
“You!” Cyrus Greengrass said.
“Me? Are you sure?”
“Frankly, the school needs a shakeup; a ghost teaching History, Divination is practically useless, and there are many lessons that should be taught, but are not,” Cyrus explained bluntly.
“We have been working closely with the Duke of Anglia to establish a junior school for younger witches and wizards to integrate into our world; we would like whoever gets the post to work closely with them, especially regarding new Muggle-Born students introducing them to Magic.”
“Are you sure Minerva would not be ideal for the position?” Flitwick looked at his friend anxiously.
“Filius, I have become too detached from my own students. I think you would do a better job,” She gently nudged him in the right direction.
“All right, I will do it, but what about someone taking my position as Head of House and a Deputy?” He agreed.
“Well, we looked through all the resumes and Septima Vector would make a good Head for Ravenclaw, while Aurora Sinistra would make a wonderful Deputy Head,” Marchbanks suggested.
“Yes, we will have to speak to them, but they are good choices.”
“We had better transfer Hogwarts wards to you,” Minerva suggested, fearful that Dumbledore may come back. So, Minerva performed the rites, transferring the Wards from Dumbledore to Flitwick. She had been taught them when she became Deputy Headmistress if something had happened to the old wizard.
“There is going to be a lot of changes, but I rather do them for the next school year,” Marchbanks spoke up, “I would like to do a review of all the subjects and teachers; we have been hearing a lot of negative stuff about Potions. First, however, we must get Hogwarts a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and Potions teacher.”
“Yes, Albus was teaching Defence while we looked for a new teacher,” Flitwick commented.
“I have a suggestion for Potion Mistress, Narcissa Black,” Minerva put forward to the surprise of the group. “She is very talented, and I have seen her working with her sister a lot in the Hospital Ward.”
“That is a good idea, can you contact her? I will speak to the Minister about providing an Auror. I’m going to assign an independent group to go over Hogwarts from Financials to subjects; I think Hogwarts needs an overhaul.”
“Yes, Harry Black has been teaching Wizarding Etiquette to his brother and most of the younger Muggle-borns,” Minerva put forward. The Board of Governors settled in as Flitwick banished Dumbledore’s chair and conjured one of his own to take a seat behind the desk. The talk was far and wide, discussing differences that might help Hogwarts become the premier European school again.
The yule holidays were rapidly coming to an end; the last night before the five young people were due to catch the Hogwarts Express back to the school on Sunday. They were sat around the fireplace with the five adults close by. Harry was listening closely to what they were saying.
“-We have word that Lucius Malfoy is the doghouse with Voldieshorts, Geoffrey Knott has taken over the Dark Alliance,” Sirius was saying.
“Do you think Theo will be safe?” Draco looked at the five adults in the room.
“I’m sure he will, my dragon; Geoffrey is too busy at the minute to look at his son,” Narcissa told him, earning a snigger from the other four teens. Draco’s face glowed red as he lightly punched Neville.
“Any news on Dumbledore or Snape?” Ted asked.
“Gone to the wind, Amelia has issued an arrest warrant to all local Auror offices, but there is not much to do. We’re hoping the Turkey club is contacted, but they are very loyal to Dumbledore,” Remus explained, the teens’ jaws dropping. They had never seen him mock anyone before.
“Time for your bed,” Hermione told her brother as she spotted him yawning.
“Aww, c’mon can’t I stay up,” he stuttered as he yawned again.
“Come on, I’ll tell you a bedtime story,” Hermione’s eyes twinkled with mischief.
“I’m eleven, not three,” Cepheus rolled his eyes.
“But you will love The Legend of the Míreanna Draíochta,” Hermione told him.
“Oh, I love the story about Arthur and his three magical items,” Draco told them enthusiastically. Hermione looked at him with disbelief.
“You know about Arthur?”
“He was not a muggle! He was known as the Warrior-Wizard in our world; he was a legend.” Draco led Hermione and Cepheus up to the rooms discussing the difference between the muggle and magical. Harry shrugged and followed Neville upstairs after saying goodnight to his dad and the rest. Once they were all changed, they settled into Ceph’s room.
“Can you tell us the story of Arthur?” Ceph asked Draco. Besides his brother, the dark-haired boy had a bit of a hero-worship thing going on with Draco. Draco looked startled, but Hermione just nodded.
“Before the Wizards Council, before Britain was divided by Magical and Mundane, King Arthur ruled over the kingdoms of Gwynedd and Dumnonia; better known as Wales, Cornwall and Devon, respectively. The Saxons ruled over the other kingdoms of England but respected Arthur. From his castle in Caerleon, he traded with the other realms with relative peace. However, there a dark spot on the horizon,” Draco warmed up to his storytelling, and his voice was silky smooth to the ears.
“Arthur and Merlin were dealing with the other realms to create something similar to the Wizard Council, with representatives of each kingdom to make up a magical council. But Medraut, Arthur’s half-brother, had turned to the dark arts searching for the lost books of De ’Agnon. He wanted Arthur to rule over all of England instead of letting non-magical king’s rule, but Arthur ignored him,”
“What happened? Did they fight?” Ceph looked wide-eyed at the blond.
“Medraut built an army, and several battles were fought gaining ground until he was at the very foothills of Caerleon, ready to besiege the castle- “
“Did he take the castle?” Ceph interrupted, excited. Hermione and Harry grinned over the boys’ head.
“No, Merlin took his Magical Staff Draoidheachd and split it into three parts. He crafted the Elder Wand, one of the most powerful wands known to all kind from the wood. From the handle, Merlin fashioned the Cloak of Invulnerability, which was incorporated into Arthur’s armour. Finally, he took the Power stone and had the goblins forge a great sword known as Excalibur.”
“Some say Gryffindor’s sword is the original Excalibur,” Hermione spoke up.
“Pah, no way Gryffindor would own something that powerful, he probably saw paintings of Excalibur and had the goblins forge him one similar,” Malfoy scoffed, derisive of their House founder.
“That large ruby could be the Power stone,” Hermione argued back, ready to launch herself into a debate with the blond.
“Eh, hem, you can debate this later, but can you please finish the story,” Harry had noticed Ceph was laid back now, and his eyes were drooping.
“There was one last great battle on the shores of the River Usk, the Battle of Camlann, they called it. The rivers ran red with blood as brother met brother,” Draco spoke dramatically, standing now. The others rolled their eyes, but a sleepy Ceph could not take his eyes off Draco as he took up his wand and a broomstick, wielding it like a sword. “Arthur rode out to meet with Medraut, fighting him in single combat. They say the battle lasted for several days; Arthur’s army had defeated Medraut’s but the two generals remained locked in battle- “
“Did Arthur die?” Ceph asked in whispered tones. They all watched as Draco recreated a sword fight with an invisible opponent.
“On the eighth day, the magic that held everyone else at bay dropped. Medraut was dead, but Arthur barely remained alive. Taken to Caerleon, he charged the Peverell brothers to look after the sword, the wand and cloak. Soon after, he passed away, and his body was taken to what was is the River Severn and sent to the sea.”
“What happened to the Magic items?”
“No one knows, obviously the Peverell’s were a real family, but whether the Míreanna Draíochta is real is another question,” Draco answered.
“Come on, bed now,” Hermione told them all sternly as Ceph looked set to ask another question. They all said goodnight except for Harry and Hermione, who went to his bedroom.
“How are you feeling? About going back tomorrow?” Harry asked as they sat on his bed.
“Nervous, but I have seen the therapist since November, which has helped a lot,” Hermione answered honestly, “But I want you to promise you’ll try not to beat him up.”
“I’ll try. I got a letter from Angelina over the holidays; Ron will not be returning to the Quidditch Team; some third year called Reece Silverman will be taking the Keeper position,” Harry explained.
“What about Ginny?”
“She does not want to play, so when we return, they are going to try for Seeker positions, but Angelina has asked me to oversee them now that Umbitch is gone,” Harry returned.
“I think we will be fine; we just need to stay away from Ronald. He is bound to say something stupid before his Trial at Easter,” Hermione commented. “Do you know why it took that long for a Trial to take place?”
“Apparently, one of the wealthy families have been working with Weasel and his Mother. Dad thinks a few pockets have been lined to keep the Trial date as late as possible.” Hermione just made a noise, then disappeared into the bathroom is to get ready for bed. She had moved several of her clothes and stuff into Harry’s room. Harry flushed once again when he remembered the talk by Remus and his dad. Not their finest hour.
“Go do your teeth,” Hermione demanded as she emerged from the bathroom.
“Yes, honey,” Harry replied obediently, and soon the pair was tucked up in bed.
Meanwhile, once the children had gone upstairs, Remus got up, closing the door firmly, then muttered a spell, purple spell fire racing around the room.
“Do you remember the necklace we found through Kreacher?” Remus asked, taking a seat next to Narcissa, taking her hand.
“Yes, the Horcrux?” Andromeda shuddered at the thought of the vile magic.
“Well, we think we found a way of destroying it,” Remus said, “We also think there are several more out there,”
“What? You said one was enough, and we know at least two more were made, one indirectly,” Ted added. The adults looked grim as they remember Harry was a Horcrux; the boy, himself, seemed to have forgotten. Or at least did not give any indication he remembered their conversation.
“We know of the Riddle Diary, which was destroyed, and the locket in the vaults below,” Remus explained, “Do you remember we thought there might be five or seven of them? We’re now almost sure it is seven of them.”
“So, you have three, Diary, Locket and Harry? What are the others?” Andromeda asked.
“Well, we believe that the Locket once belonged to Slytherin, and in the course of our research, we discovered Riddle is obsessed with the Founders, so Narcissa began looking into any Founders’ items that might still exist today,”
“After lots of digging, I discovered Hepzibah Smith owned the Hufflepuff Cup until she was killed in 1946, after visiting Borgin and Burkes. Her house-elf claimed to have done it, but Borgin and Burkes had a Tom Riddle on the books,” Narcissa explained, “We do not currently have a known location of it. The next one is the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw.
“I managed to get into Hogwarts last week and spoke to Helena Ravenclaw; she told me she was jealous of her mother, so stole the Diadem and fled to Albania where she hid it. Tom Riddle worked it out and found the Diadem.”
“You know where it is?” Andromeda looked at her sister in surprise.
“Riddle bought it back to Hogwarts and ‘defiled’ it, as Helena says. Remus and I found it in the Room of Requirement, Harry once told us about,” Narcissa.
“So, you have two in your possession with two destroyed, that leaves three remaining, including Harry,” Ted summarised.
“We think the last Founders item is Gryffindor’s Chest Armour, which was stolen from the Wizarding Museum in Parsley Hay more than four decades ago. We assume Riddle hid it,” Remus told them.
“What about the last one?”
“Narcissa and Sirius seem to think this might be Nagini, Riddle’s Snake,” Remus replied, rolling his eyes.
“He is far too protective of that snake, and it definitely not a normal snake,” Narcissa insisted.
“So now that we know roughly what they are, what are our next steps?” Ted now asked.
“We have to find the locations of the Chest Armour and the cup, Nagini we can leave until last,” Sirius answered.
“How do you destroy them?”
“We think Fiendfyre or the Sword of Gryffindor, we are going to approach Flitwick about borrowing the sword of Gryffindor,” Remus explained.
“What about Harry?” Andromeda asked, concerned. Like all the adults, she had a soft spot for the dark-haired boy. Remus and Sirius shared a look with each other
“We think we have found an ancient druidic spell, but I need to travel abroad to the Library at Alexandria to check some things with a friend,” Remus answered, ever the academic. Narcissa smiled fondly at him.
“I hope we can help the boy, but if we get rid of these things, will that destroy Riddle?” Andromeda asked.
“No, but it will weaken him. However, we are going to help Harry. With the potion Narcissa created and some strengthening exercises, Harry’s leg will be better. Then we work on his combat skills; Flitwick has already given us permission to train him,” Sirius explained.
“Good, now we had better follow the kids to bed if we are going to see them off in the morning,” Andromeda replied and smoothed out her robes. The others all followed her out of the room.
Harry knew he had been stared at since he returned to the magical world at age eleven, but this seemed to be ten times worse. He leant on his cane in the entrance hall, waiting for his friends to arrive. They had all arrived back this afternoon and were reorientating with their dorms before they met for dinner. Harry was shaken from his musings as Riley Monahan came down the stairs. The boy was all alone and friendless; the teen had barely thought about him since the sorting but could feel the waves of anger and sadness rolling off the tween.
“Hello, Riley,” Harry spoke up. The boy looked up, glaring at the Gryffindor teen. Harry must not have noticed him with the other first years; he would have to ask Hermione about him later.
“What do you want?” Riley snarled back. Harry Black was the epitome of Riley’s self-hatred now. His father had written expressing his deep sadness that he had become a Gryffindor, hinting of torture’s he would endure when Riley returned for the summer.
“I’m just saying hello,” Harry replied with surprise. He had not expected the level of venom the child had for him.
“Well, don’t! I do not like you, I do not like the stupid Gryffindors, and stupid Dumbledore would not let me change houses,” Riley ranted, not realising how much he had revealed to Harry as he barged past him into the Great Hall. Hermione kissed his cheek as he wondered about what the boy had just revealed.
“Hey,” she greeted him.
“Was the little bug bothering you?” Ron asked as if the last few months had not happened, and he was best friends with Harry.
“Not that I am going to answer you, but why do you call him a bug?” Harry asked the tall redhead, gritting his teeth. Hermione grabbed his hand, weaving her fingers through his locking his arm in place.
“He should be called a snake. He has not been participating in any Gryffindor event and always seems to mumble about stupid Gryffindors. I am fairly sure he should have been sorted into Slytherin,” Ron finished.
“You have been watching him closely?”
“Never sure if he might have sabotaged us,” Ron replied, then cheerfully walked off to the Gryffindor table.
“Urgh, I don’t know how you put up with him after all he has done,” Draco said dramatically.
“I do not, but I was interested to hear what he had to say about Riley,” Harry replied.
“I think his father was a Slytherin,” Hermione interjected.
“I have not noticed him among the first years. Is he that much of a loner?” Harry asked his future wife.
“He has a corner in the Common Room, rarely leaves the dorms if he can help it,” Hermione frowned.
“His father pushes him a lot,” Harry responded.
“How do you know that?” Neville asked as they took seats at the table. Draco and Theo had gone off to Slytherin table for the first meal back at school.
“Derrin Monahan is not a nice man, Narcissa and Remus had Draco, and I look over files with all known Death Eaters whether they used an excuse or not at the end of the last war,” Harry responded. He then looked up, noticing a changed line up at the Teachers’ table. Professor Flitwick now sat on a raised chair in the centre, utterly different from Dumbledore’s throne-like chair. Now Sinistra was at his right with McGonagall beyond the Arithmancy teacher. New to the teachers were Narcissa Black (which was a surprise) and Auror Proudfoot. Flitwick clapped, the noise resonating out to the hall, silencing the chatter.
“Welcome back to a new term, as you may have noticed there are several additional teachers as well as some other changes,” Flitwick welcomed everyone back to the school, “as you may have seen sadly, Professor Dumbledore has left us, so I have become the new Headmaster, Professor Sinistra is the new Deputy Head while Professor Vector will be the new head of Ravenclaw. I would like to introduce Professor Black, who shall be taking over as the Potions Mistress. Professor Proudfoot has been leant to us by the Ministry until the end of the year to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Madam Hooch shall be taking on Head of Slytherin duties until the end of the year,”
“Wow, that’s a significant change,” Hermione suggested nudging Cepheus to eat more greens.
“What’s that stuff you have there?” Seamus asked, sitting just beyond Neville. He pointed to a vial of purple liquid next to Harry’s arm.
“Oh, that’s for my leg. Professor Black created it to help strengthen my leg,” Harry explained.
“Are you sure it’s not poison?” Ron asked through a mouthful of food, “After all, a snake made it.”
“No, Ronald, it is not poison,” Harry replied, gripping the table. Trying his absolute best not to punch the redhead in the face. He knew the boy would get his Just Deserts at Easter.
“Just ignore him; you know what your dad said,” Hermione whispered, calming him down. But then Harry looked at his younger brother.
“Why aren’t you down with the other first years?” Harry asked gently.
“I like being up here, especially being close to you two,” he answered.
“We love having you up here, but you should spend time with children your own age,” Harry replied.
“You’re starting to sound like dad,” Ceph quipped.
“Old and slobbery,” Harry returned with laughter.
“You wait; if you misbehave, I’m telling Sirius that.”
“Yes, Ma’am, I’ll be good,” Harry looked at his fiancée with puppy-dog eyes getting a swat from her. As dinner progressed into dessert, Harry decided to practice a little bit of empathy. He closed his eyes, letting out his gift until one feeling directed him towards a Gryffindor girl, Cary Mitchell, if he remembers correctly, the third year. Harry got the feelings of nervousness, guilt, and fear someone would discover her secret. He tuned in a little more to see her aura had a dark ring around it; he got dirt, hair, and wilderness images. Had she been a werewolf before Christmas? The teen was quite sure she had not been.
“Come on, I think you need to make more friends with the first years,” Harry told Ceph, leading him down the end of the table close to where Cary sat near the firsties section. He ushered Ceph onwards and settled next to Cary; the third year smiled nervously at him as he winked at Mark across the table. Her dark brown hair was in ringlets, and her green eyes bulged as she realised who sat with her. Harry remembered Cary was Mundane born, not knowing about magic until she received the letter from Hogwarts.
“Hello,” he greeted the girl.
“Don’t you usually sit with the other fifth years?” she asked, then realised how rude that might be.
“Usually, but I’ve come to sit with the firsties; you’re a little old to be a firstie,” he stated.
“Most of the third years don’t like me; I think Dennis is my only friend,” she whispered, looking down.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find you some friends,” Harry assured her, thinking of Robyn. “How was Christmas at home?”
“Good,” she squeaked, dropping the spoon she had been holding. The girl looked at him wide-eyed, realising what he had said or rather what he had not said.
“it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Harry told her, casually peeling an orange, “Remus Lupin, our former teacher, has lived with it for a long time, and you know about Colin, right?”
“But if-if I tell people, I’ll be disliked even more. I’ll never get a job,” she lowered her voice, adding, “I know what werewolf prejudice is like from Professor Binn’s lessons.”
“Firstly, I’m your friend, and I won’t dislike you; secondly, have you seen the repeal to the werewolf act that’s been suggested?” Harry asked, getting a shake of the head. “How did you expect to do monthly changes? Have you told any teachers?”
“No, not yet” she spoke quietly.
“When dinner is finished, we’ll speak to Professor McGonagall. She’s a real pussy cat when you get to know her,” the girl laughed at his joke. Harry began to have a conversation with the eleven-year-olds in the immediate vicinity. All were eager to tell him about their Christmas’s and how they had told their parents about Hogwarts and the great Harry Black. Inwardly he groaned, but it was to be expected from eleven-year-olds. As the dessert disappeared, Flitwick stood up.
“I hope you are all ready for lessons tomorrow before you go to bed. I would like to inform you we will be doing a Mentor program; the fifth through seventh years will be mentoring first through the third years. Thank you, sleep well.” Flitwick clapped and got down off his chair. Professor McGonagall walked down the hall beside Flitwick when Harry touched Cary’s shoulder.
“Professor, a moment of your time,” Harry said politely. She stopped with Flitwick, who smiled at Harry. The boy looked at Cary and indicated for her to speak. She whispered something quietly.
“I didn’t hear you, Miss Mitchell.”
“I, erm, was bitten at Christmas,” She told the two teachers; hearing a gasp, she rushed ahead. “I was out before New Year’s with a Muggle friend when a rabid dog attacked my friend. I managed to save her from being bitten or scratched but was bitten myself in the process, though it ran off. Being a witch, I recognised a werewolf from our books.”
“Are you positive?” McGonagall asked.
“Yes, I’m pretty sure I was bitten,” Cary looked down at her feet.
“Look at me, child,” Minerva McGonagall spoke with uncharacteristic kindness, “we will help you get through this; I am glad Lord Rendlesham bought it to our attention.”
“R-really? You will not expel me?” she stuttered. Flitwick laughed.
“I am sorry, Miss Mitchell, I should not laugh. Some might like you to be expelled, but we will look after you; I will speak to the Governors and see if I can arrange a safe Haven like Colin,” Flitwick told her.
“Thank you, Professors,” Cary said quietly.
“Come on, I will take you back to the Common Room,” Harry told the girl seeing his friends waiting at the door for them.
“Thank Lord Rendlesham. Miss Mitchell, we shall arrange to meet in a few days,” The Headmaster told the girl.
“You’re always in the thick of things, aren’t you, Mister Black?”
“I can’t help it, Sir,” Harry answered truthfully.
“I take it Miss Granger will be joining you in the Marriage suite?” the half-goblin asked tactfully.
“Yes, Sir, now that we are properly betrothed,” Flitwick had not failed to see the ring on Hermione’s finger.
“While you are still underage, I am dubious, but I cannot stop you. However, I will ask that you be careful and take things slowly.” Hermione blushed to her roots as the Headmaster’s implications were known. Harry stammered his goodbye before the pair left. Flitwick had a good laugh with McGonagall when all the teens had disappeared.