By Lord Wrackspurt

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This story is a work of fan-fiction based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ *********

Chapter 15: Venus in Boots

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It had always been a long standing tradition at Hogwarts that on the first night back Peeves the Poltergeist would put in an introductory appearance and start making a nuisance of himself to the first year students, the ‘ickle firsties’ as he called them. However, Peeves had always known where to draw the line when Albus Dumbledore was Headmaster because he knew Dumbledore would only put up with just so much bullshit.

Professor McGonagall had worried herself incessantly over what Peeves would do now that Dumbledore wasn’t here to keep him in check. But to her surprise, this year Peeves didn’t shown himself, everything went perfectly according to plan. However, the only thing that worried her more than seeing Peeves was when he didn’t see Peeves. She knew full well that Peeves had some mischief planned, and had patrolled the hallways looking for him, but found nothing. It appeared that Peeves was gone.

The next morning the classes began as normal. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts, or DADA as everyone referred to it, Professor had not yet arrived on campus, but had sent an owl to Professor McGonagall to expect her on the first day. As the first years were to be the first in the DADA classroom the Headmistress sent a note to Harry asking him to accompany her to the class to get them started for the day. But they were running a little behind.

In the DADA classroom the firsties were confused, they didn’t seem to have an instructor. As they talked among themselves about the experiences of the night before they was a loud crack, and Peeves appeared hovering over them dressed in a green jacket, green knee length trousers and brogan shoes, with a green bowler hat on his head.

“Greetings, ickle firsties,” said Peeves in a deep Irish brogue. “I am Professor Spanky McMonkey. I am a leprechaun and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this term.”

The first years had been introduced to their professors the night before, except for the DADA professor who they were told would there tomorrow. They had already found out that their history professor was a ghost, and their divination professor was a centaur, so it really wasn’t such an incredible thing to them that this professor was a leprechaun.

“Now my ickle firsties, today I’m going to teach you the two most important things to know about watching out for yourself. Now form two lines in front of me, boys right, girls left, about two feet apart. Hold your wands at the ready in your left hand.”

Outside the classroom Harry and Professor McGonagall arrived to start the lesson, but found the door would not open to them, it was sealed. McGonagall was the first to realize it had to be Peeve’s doing. She furiously started going through her unlocking spells to get in.

“Now it’s critical to the spell that we do this right. This may be uncomfortable, but it all works out right if you follow the movement and use the incantation. Now boys, take your right hand and make a fist.”

The first years boys did as the ‘Professor’ commanded.

“Now look directly at the girl in font of you and shouting the incantation ‘BITCH’ as loud as you can, punch her in the face with your fist. Quickly now, on the count of three, one… two… three.”

Outside the doorway, Harry and Professor McGonagall heard the loud massed shout of ‘Bitch’ followed by a series of smacks and girls screaming in pain. Inside the room, the boys were shocked by the sight of the girls on the floor with split lips, bruised faces, and bloody noses.

“The magic has started,” shouted Peeves. “The second incantation has to follow quickly, girls hurry up now, get to your feet, wands at the ready. Boys, stand with your legs wide apart. That’s right spread them out there. Something magical is about to happen.”

McGonagall and Harry had gone through all their unlocking charms and finally realized that Peeves hadn’t locked the door, he was using his magical power to hold it shut. “Harry, focus with me, we have to push it open.”

“Girls, prepare for the countercharm,” said Peeves. “Aim the toe of your right foot at the crotch of the boy who just punched you in the face, that’s right, the magical area between his legs. And shout the incantation ‘MOTHERFUCKER’ as loud as you can and kick him in the magical area as hard as you can.”

Working together Harry and Professor McGonagall used the REDUCTO spell to force open the door, just in time to hear the word ‘Motherfucker’ shouted in mass, followed by screams of intense pain. Entering the room they saw all the first year boys lying on the floor in the fetal position crying and screaming, and a bewildered set of first year girls with their faces all bloody and bruised. Seeing the pair enter, Peeves took off his bowler hat, bowed to them and shouted, “By the way, ickle firsties, those two important lessons I mention earlier are don’t believe everything you’re told, and be careful who you trust. Class dismissed!” Laughing manically, the feisty poltergeist lithely darted to the side as a stunning curse from McGonagall’s wand flew past him.

“SHIT! — SHIT! — SHIT!” screamed McGonagall as she surveyed the wreckage. “The whole first year class. Peeves you’ve gone too far this time.” McGonagall immediately had one of the senior students in the hallway go for Madam Pomfrey, and others come in to help the injured first years.

Peeves just continued his catcalls and flitting around the room sticking his tongue out at Harry and McGonagall. Harry heard the rapid clipping sound of high heels coming up behind him and panicked. The last time he had heard that sound was when Bella walked up behind him and nailed him in the balls. Harry was already dropping into a defensive crouch and turn when he felt a whoosh as a spell was cast that went somewhere above him. Harry made his crouch and turn; but as he was bringing the wand to level to send a killing curse at his attacker, he was hit in the chest with the sole of a woman’s black boot that splayed him across the floor.

Thanks to Moody’s training, Harry held on to his wand this time and was still ready to try and avenge Tonks when the boot came down across his neck and pinned him to the floor in a bit of embarrassing deja vu. Looking up Harry saw a wand pointed at him; looking above the wand he saw the face of a woman who was a perfect stranger to him.

“Drop that wand, boy, or I’ll kill you, and I won’t ask twice,” she said in a very matter of fact way that told Harry she meant it. He released his hold on his wand and the boot was lifted from Harry’s throat. After a moment, a hand was extended down to Harry, but he was hesitant to take it. The witch above him smiled faintly,”I’m not your enemy, if I were, you would already be dead.”

Harry looked into those cold grey eyes before deciding she was telling the truth. He took the proffered hand and was easily drawn to his feet; whoever she was, she had impressive muscular strength. Even without the heels, she was tall, at least 5’ 11”, maybe 6’. She looked to be about 40 years old, but it was hard to tell, she might be considerably older. Her mid-shoulder length hair was tied back in a ponytail, and was completely raven black, not a strand of gray. She was a full-bodied woman, but definitely not fat. In her own way she looked sexy, but it was a very dangerous sort of sexy.

She sort of reminded Harry of those paintings he had seen of Venus rising from the sea, except for the eyes. There was a cruel coldness in those eyes, even when she had smiled, that almost reminded Harry of what he had seen in the eyes of Bellatrix as she watched Harry squirm in agony beneath her boots and laughed merrily. “This was not a woman to be trifled with,” thought Harry, “she’s someone who would make a terrible enemy.”

“You are awfully jumpy for a student aren’t you?” she asked while eying Harry from top to bottom.

“The last time someone came up behind me like that she tried to kill me,” replied Harry.

“Really, and when was this?”

“Five days ago in Godric’s Hollow.”

Harry could see that a light of interest now gleamed in the witch’s eyes, “Obviously she failed, did you kill her?”

“No — but not for lack of trying.”

“You’re Harry Potter.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

At this point Professor McGonagall entered the conversation, “Harry, this is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Euripita Balzhoff.”

Harry knew that name, during the Triwizard tournament he had talked with a number of the boys from Durmstang Wizarding Academy. During the inevitable comparison of professors, Harry had been told about Professor Balzhoff. She was the self-defense professor there. Every one of the Durmstang students had said that she was an old school style sorceress who knew her shit. The Durmstang boys had sworn that the way she was built she must be part Amazon; and that she could kick the arse of any wizard in the school with or without a wand. They also mentioned that she didn’t require much in the way of provocation to do it either; they were all frightened of her.

The academy had closed this summer after the old Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, a former Death Eater who had ratted out other Death Eaters to save his own skin, had been murdered by Voldemort in revenge. The Professor had needed a new job and had found one at Hogwarts. Harry realized that if what he had been told was true then it was a damn good thing he dropped his wand when he did, she really hadn’t been bullshitting about killing him otherwise.

“You have good instincts, Potter. I like that. I guess that’s part of how you’ve managed to survive this long. Better pick up your wand, we need to tend to the students.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Harry. Without taking his eyes off the Professor, Harry willed the wand to return to his hand with a flick of his wrist, and it did. As Harry returned it to its holder beneath his robes he could see the interest in Professor Balzhoff’s eyes.

“Hummm … you have some skills,” she said admiringly. “Look’s like you’ve had some extra-curricular training. Moody’s doing I’d say. Those look like some of his moves.” Then with a side glance at Professor McGonagall, “among others.” Harry saw Professor McGonagall break into a faint smile and a quick wink at the new professor. Whatever this new professor was, Professor McGonagall trusted her; and Harry knew that the Headmistress was a witch who didn’t give trust easily or quickly. There was some history between these two.

Professor Balzhoff then walked past Harry to the front of the classroom. Looking around Harry saw that the true target of Professor Balzhoff’s spell had been Peeves. No one had ever been able to truly control Peeves, but he was now floating imprisoned in a clear glass-like sphere. For the first time Harry saw a look of true fear on Peeves pinched face.

“Peevsey was just playing his little joke, no one was really hurt, please let Peevsey go now,” pleaded the Poltergeist.

With a look of cold indifference, Professor Balzhoff took a large crystalline jewel from her robe pocket, with her wand she reeled in the glass bubble holding Peeves. The frightened poltergeist began struggling harder to escape his new prison as if he knew what was in store. When the glass sphere touched the jewel there was a quick flash of light and Peeves was transferred from the glass bubble to the jewel. Harry could see a miniature Peeves moving around inside.

“That should hold the little bastard, Minerva. What do you want me to do with him?”

Professor McGonagall looked at the crystal as the voice inside was plaintively saying; “Peeves is sorry, Ma’am. Peeves is so very sorry, he’ll never do another bad thing again. Peeves will be good from now on, he promises, please let poor Peeves go, please don’t mistreat him.”

“Fuck him … think of some interesting way to let him occupy his time,” said a thoroughly disgusted McGonagall.

A cruel grin came across the face of Professor Balzhoff. Apparently, those were the kinds of orders she liked getting. Walking to the instructor’s podium, she set the jewel on a wire mesh above a Brunson burner. With a flick of her wand the burner ignited and adjusted to a blue flame that played on the jewel. A faint screeching sound was heard as the jewel heated to a white-hot state. A muffling spell from the Professor silenced the screeching. Harry felt a lump in his throat, this witch meant business.

All the first years were sent to the infirmary where they were quickly healed. The DADA classes were cancelled for the rest of the day to let Professor Balzhoff get settled in. Harry and the remainder of the students who assisted with the moving of the students were sworn to secrecy about the incident. Finally, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick spent most of the remainder of the day using memory charms to take the painful episode from the first year’s minds. Officially, it was a cover-up that could have gotten the new Headmistress in serious trouble, but it appeared that everyone who had witnessed the scene was loyal to the school and kept it quiet. It also appeared that no one wanted to get Professor Balzhoff pissed off at them after it was found out that what she had done to Peeves.

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The remainder of the day wasn’t as bad as the morning had been. Harry still had potions class under Professor Slughorn; and with a proper professor who he didn’t hate him, Harry found he actually did well in potions. Harry and the former Potions professor, Severus Snape, had mutually hated each other’s guts for six years. Now Snape was on the run with Voldemort after murdering the former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, last June.

Harry had also found out last spring that it was Snape who had informed Voldemort of the prophesy that had led to the death of his parents. To Harry it was just another good reason to kill the bastard.

It was a tradition at Hogwarts that seventh years whom the faculty feel are quite gifted in a particular area are allowed to serve as assistants to the professors. In return for assisting the professors, the students receive individual tutorials in that subject. Harry’s fellow Gryffindor, and good friend, Neville Longbottom was assigned to assist Madam Sprout in Herbology, Hermione was assigned to assist Professor McGonagall in transfiguration, and in an almost unheard of act, three professors asked for Harry to assist them.

That Professor Slughorn and Hagrid had asked for him he understood. Harry had actually expected he would get to work with Hagrid. However, surprisingly, Professor Balzhoff asked for him also. The final decision came down to Professor McGonagall, and she decided that Professor Balzhoff had the greatest need, as she was new to the school. Ron Weasley was assigned to assist Hagrid, and Cho Chang was assigned to Professor Slughorn.

After lunch, Harry went to the DADA classroom to report to Professor Balzhoff. She was still unpacking and had Harry go out and do a bit of cleaning up. Snape had left the room a mess and no one else had done anything about it over the summer. This was one of those times when Harry was glad to be a wizard and to have paid attention in Professor Flitwick’s Charms class. A few Scourgify spells later the room started taking shape.

Presently Professor Balzhoff came out and started helping Harry with setting the room up to match her needs. She began by asking Harry about the past years of DADA instruction, in particular, what was needed to be taught at each level. After a while of this Harry began to loosen up with the Professor. She wasn’t as bad as Harry had thought she might be. Of course, Harry knew he hadn’t pissed her off yet. Working with Moody had already allowed him to realize that there were serious shortcomings in his DADA training due to piss poor teaching in the past. Around teatime, the Professor invited Harry into her office at the back of the classroom for tea and cakes.

“So, Harry,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me more about your encounter of last week?”

Harry wasn’t sure what to say. He knew it could be dangerous to open up to a stranger, but he also felt that the Professor had skills he could find useful if she would share them with him. Harry’s one great fear was Dementors; they always caused him to lose his concentration, even faint. Voldemort would know through Snape of Harry’s particular vulnerability, even his fear, of meeting them. Voldemort was sure to use them. But Harry had an idea; the old goblin named Fartzmellar had said that if you knew how to you could trap a spirit in a crystal. That was what Harry had seen this Professor do to Peeves.

Harry told the Professor what had happened in the ambush, even the part about having sex with Tonks. The only thing left out in the account was that it was Harry who had killed Phingarbang.

“This Tonks sounds like she was my kind of girl, I wish I had gotten to know her. Apparently this Phingarbang was the one who set you two up. Pretty cold piece of work, screwing someone you plan to kill the next morning. At least he didn’t survive the fight, you saw to that, Harry.”

Harry looked at the Professor, he said nothing, but it was obvious she saw right through the cover story. Tonks couldn’t have killed them all while bound.

“You’re right, Professor,” Harry said. “I called my wand to my hand in the confusion, and Phingarbang saw me, I killed him. Crabbe targeted me and that allowed Tonks to injure him. I tried to kill Bellatrix after I saw her kill Tonks, my curse missed and exploded a chair into splinters and flames.”

“What happened makes sense, Potter,” the Professor said. “Your mind was open and clearly focused on killing that bitch. Your rage, fear, and pain combined to release the stops on your magical ability. You have talent, Harry, you don’t know its full potential yet, but you saw it in action. Most young wizards are held back, their power grows as they age not because there is an increase in magical ability, but there is an increase in confidence and experience in using their power. You are the one that some say has the only chance of defeating Voldemort, if you are to do this then you are going to have to pull out the stops against him too.”

Harry looked at the Professor, “Will you show me how to do this?”

“I can’t show you how to unlock your potential, Potter,” she said. “That ultimately comes from you. I can guide you in the right directions. I have no love of Voldemort or his Death Eaters, and they have none for me. I’ll do what I can to help, but it looks like others are working on you already. You’ve had training that you didn’t get in this classroom.”

“That’s true,” said Harry as he briefly described what Moody had done for him over the summer. Professor Balzhoff seemed to be impressed with his accomplishments so far.

“Professor, if I’m not being too personal, you said Voldemort has no love for you. Have you had a run in with him?” asked Harry.

“Not directly, but I know a number of his followers,” she answered. “I’m a muggle born witch like your friend Miss. Granger, and I’m an ex-Auror. I came in to the service a little while after Alastor Moody, neither of us was highly thought of by our lofty pureblood superiors. I got treated like shit because I was a mudblood, and I wouldn’t kowtow to that pompous cocksucker named Bartimus Crouch who told everyone he was on his way to running the Ministry. Moody was simply unconventional, I was labeled insubordinate. So I quit the Ministry, went to the continent and started teaching at Durmstrang Academy. Now I’m back at Hogwarts.”

“You taught here before?” asked Harry.

“Oh no, I was a student here, a bit ahead of your parent’s time. I do remember Bellatrix though; she was a few years ahead of me. She was a cruel little Slytherin bitch even back then. Her favorite class was Magical Creatures, but only because she enjoyed torturing the animals when the professor’s back was turned. She loved to bully all the younger students. No surprise to you, but her favorite tactic was to give a quick ball kick to non-pureblood wizards as she passed by them in the hallways. She sent a number of them to the infirmary. It quickly got to where no muggleborn, or half-blood, boy, even a Slytherin, would be caught walking within ten feet of her.”

“Wasn’t she punished for doing that?” asked Harry.

“Oh no, her mother used the Black family name, and fortune, to ensure she didn’t get expelled, just minor detentions. Very little was done to her, especially when the victims were muggleborns. Hardly anyone in the Ministry really cared what happened to them back then. Minerva told me a bit about what was going on here, about you and a few others, including your friend Hermione. However bad you think she’s had it here it was much worse for us ‘mudbloods’ back then. We were looked down upon by nearly everybody, not just the Slytherins.

“The only real friend we had in the faculty was Professor McGonagall. She was a lot younger then, and she was like a big sister to the bunch of us. Old McGonny is a half-blood; her mother was a powerful witch, her father a muggle. Her mother was killed in an accident when McGonny was about 5 years old or so. Her father raised her with his muggle family. She has a soft spot for muggleborns, and muggle raised. I have few good memories of this place, the only reason I would come back here is because she asked me to help her get it back in order.”

“There’s a lot of work to do,” said Harry. “One thing I was hoping I could get you to show me is how to capture spirits in a crystal like you did with Peeves this morning. That looks like a handy bit of magic.”

“Since you are my teaching assistant I believe that I’m obligated to give you a little special tutoring if you desire it. I think I can help with spirit capture.”

“Does it work on Dementors?” Harry asked.

“Yes, but you can’t have them attacking in a large pack as they like to do,” she said. “You have to disrupt them first with a patronus charm to break up the attack, and then you can single out individuals. I’ll have to show you how to cast a patronus.”

Harry just smiled, he knew that many adults considered the patronus to be advanced magic, but he had actually learned it in his third year from his father’s old friend, Remus Lupin. A wizard or witch’s patronus was a pure silvery shimmering beam of energy that came from within them and served as a surrogate protector that could shield them from harm or attack an enemy. It could take the form of an energy field around the caster or take corporeal form, usually as an animal that suited the caster’s identity. Harry had actually used the patronus on more than one occasion to keep Dementors from giving him their dreaded Dementor’s kiss, where they literally drained the soul out of the body.

Standing up Harry took out his wand and pointed it down the length of the empty DADA classroom. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he shouted, and a large brilliant silver stag emerged running from the wand tip. Harry’s father’s patronus had also been a stag. The entire room was lit up in the power of the spell, Harry even saw Professor Balzhoff flinch just a bit. With a flip of his wand Harry made the stag disappear.

Harry turned back to the Professor and saw her smile just a bit. “Harry, there are fully developed, highly respected wizards who can’t do what you just did, or, if they can, can’t do it as well. When did you start making a patronus?”

“Remus Lupin taught me how to do it in my third year,” said Harry, noting that for the first time Professor Balzhoff had called him Harry and not just Potter. “I’ve already used it twice in battles with Dementors to drive them away from me, but I want to be able to destroy the sons of bitches.”

“I guess Dementors would be drawn to you,” she said. “You have some tragedy in your life to feed them well. I’ll teach you how to perform a spirit capture, but you’ll need a supply of the enchanted crystals. The good ones are not cheap and not readily available in the shops. I do know where high quality crystals can be obtained for about a thousand Galleons each. You should also know that to ultimately destroy the spirit you’ve trapped inside you have to destroy the crystal.”

“So you don’t intend to destroy Peeves then?” asked Harry.

“No, I’m going to let the little bastard suffer for a while, then let him out. He’ll be good as long as I’m here after that. Hogwarts wouldn’t be quite the same without him, and that’s the only crystal I can afford right now. If I break it I’m not able to buy another one.”

“Can more than one spirit be put in a crystal?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” replied the professor. “But the magic wards of the crystal can only contain so much energy, if you place too many spirits inside they can join forces and break free. That’s why you don’t want cheap crystals; those can maybe hold a mild mannered Boggart or two. For the more malevolent spirits like poltergeists and Dementors you need high quality sorcery and gem quality cut stones. I don’t know how you are set financially, but if you can’t afford one of your own, Minerva may have a few cheaper ones around we can let you practice with. The one I have I keep to myself as I can’t afford to replace it if it is damaged.”

Harry thought for a moment, what good is it to have a lot of money if you don’t use it? Harry couldn’t think of anything more important to spend his money on than an investment in saving his own dear sweet precious arse. Twice the Dementors had nearly took him out, and Harry was frightened of them because he couldn’t kill them, only scare them off. That meant even if they failed in their attack they ‘lived’ to try and get Harry again on another day. Harry only had to fail once and he was worse than dead. Eventually they had to get lucky.

“Professor, if you know of a source for the very best crystals then order a dozen of them for me, and a dozen more for yourself, as compensation for the private tutorial,” said Harry. “I will see to the cost.”

Euripita Balzhoff studied Harry’s face for a moment and decided he was entirely serious. Twelve jewels for herself, she wouldn’t hardly make that much in a year teaching at Hogwarts. So Potter had money, she wondered what the source of it was.

“All right then, Harry,” she said. “But I doubt any one supplier we can trust has that many on hand. I’ll send an owl this afternoon to an old acquaintance who should know where we can find that many for purchase by next week.”

“That’s fine with me,” said Harry. “I can have a draft from Gringotts, or money in hand if desired.”

“These people prefer gold to paper,” said Balzhoff with a little laugh, this might be an interesting year after all.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Finishing with Balzhoff, Harry realized he had a couple of free hours until the evening meal started. Harry set off to visit his friend Rubeus Hagrid in his hut on the school grounds. Even in a place such at Hogwarts that featured many oddities, Hagrid stood out in a crowd. He was huge and hairy, but that was because he was a half giant. Even though he was a very affable person, he had few friends as Giants were distrusted by magi as they were supposed to be uncontrollably violent creatures. Despite the fact that Hagrid was a half blood wizard, and had chosen to live among wizards, half giants, weren’t considered any more trustworthy in the minds of most magi than full blooded giants.

In his days as a student at Hogwarts, Hagrid had been expelled because he had been framed by Tom Riddle for opening the Chamber of Secrets. The Chamber held an ancient monster, a gigantic snake, which began attacking students who were muggle born. That had resulted in the death of a young witch named Myrtle who had become a ghost known as Moaning Myrtle and haunted one of the girl’s restrooms. Albus Dumbledore had believed that Hagrid was innocent of the crime and had seen to it that Hagrid had been allowed to stay at Hogwarts as it groundskeeper. Because of his special ability to handle magical creatures, he had later been promoted to professor of that position when the old professor had retired.

Hagrid was ridiculed by many students, especially the Slytherins, because he was rather backwards and unsophisticated. However, he had always been a good friend to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Hagrid lived in his stone hut on the grounds at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He shared his hut with his dog named Fang. Fang was a huge lazy old Boarhound who didn’t appear to be worth all that much as a guard dog for the school, but he was a likeable old mutt, except when he was drooling on you.

Hagrid hailed Harry cheerfully as he spotted him approaching the hut. Harry saw that Hagrid already had company of a sort, Harry’s fellow student Luna Lovegood was already there at the hut playing with Fang. Luna was a Ravenclaw, and a year younger than Harry. She was a bit odd in her actions and that had earned her the sobriquet of Loony Lovegood. However, Luna was a brave and resourceful girl. She had fought in the battle in the Ministry over a year earlier that had resulted in the death of Sirius Black at the hands of Bellatrix LeStrange.

Harry spent the next hour or so talking with Hagrid and Luna. The conversation was mostly light, with Harry being congratulated for making Head Boy, and speculations about how McGonagall’s style of running of the school might differ from that of Dumbledore’s.

That evening after dinner, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron joined Harry in the Head Boy’s lounge again. Ron asked Harry if he could talk to him a bit in the hallway about last night before they went up. Harry agreed, he thought he knew what Ron wanted to talk about, his romantic relationship with Ginny.

“Harry, you’re my friend, my best mate, but I don’t want you shagging my sister. You know why, too. Mum and Dad think you might get her killed, and after what happened to Tonks I’m thinking they just might be right.”

“Isn’t that up to Ginny who she …, OHHHHH, SHIT,” exclaimed Harry as Ron backhanded his fist into Harry’s groin with enough force to make Harry double over in pain and sink to his knees.

“NO IT ISN’T!” said Ron forcefully. “Listen to me, Harry, it isn’t Ginny’s decision, it’s up to her family because she’s underage. Now I’m still your mate, I’ll support you against You-know-who, but leave Ginny out of it. And if I have to fix it so you can’t shag her then I will, you know I can, and I have plenty of brothers who’ll help me, and even more cousins if they ain’t enough. You can be friends with her, but back off. That’s all I’m going to say about it.”

Ron went up the steps, leaving Harry to breathe deeply and trying to get the throbbing in his nuts under control. Ron hadn’t hit him all that hard; he was apparently just trying to send a message. However, Ron didn’t know, or care, that Harry was already injured down there. The last he needed was another hit to his balls. Even if Ron wasn’t really trying to hurt him, Harry was pretty pissed off over the message though. After a bit he went upstairs and put on a show for the girls as if nothing had happened. Harry could see that Hermione and Ginny looked tired tonight and would make an early evening of it. Those two hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.

Ron, as usual, was oblivious to what Hermione and Ginny did behind closed doors, and was only concerned about wangling some way that he could be alone with Hermione long enough for her to service his lust some way. Hermione was getting a little pissed in ways that Ginny and Harry could see, but Ron, as usual, hadn’t a clue. Ron was going to be spending the night with cotton gloves if he wanted the swelling to go down tonight. After a bit of Hermione telling Ron to stop touching her, and taking his hands off her leg, Ron finally got pissed off and left in a huff.

“Well I guess I screwed that up,” said Hermione. “At least you two can have the couch to yourselves tonight. By the way, Harry, it seems our Miss Weasley lost an intimate part of her apparel in this vicinity last night. You didn’t perchance find it for her did you?” The last said with that wicked little grin only Hermione could make look so cute and yet sexy.

“Was that what it was?” asked Harry. “I thought one of the cleaning elves had dropped an old dusting rag and didn’t notice.”

“You bastard!” squealed Ginny. “Grab him, Hermione. I’m going to slap his nuts for that.”

Harry was grabbed by Hermione in a grip he found surprisingly strong. He tried to wiggle free but couldn’t, and then he saw that Ginny was pulling his legs apart with a hand raised to slap at his nutsack. The thought of another blow to his still tender balls made Harry panic.

“NOOO, no don’t hit me there,” yelled Harry. “I’m still hurt there, don’t hit me please.”

“Harry, it’s all right,” said an astonished Ginny. “I was just playing with you. What do you mean you’re still hurt? Harry, what’s happened to you? Please tell me.”

“If I tell you will you promise to keep it a secret? I mean from everyone, you can’t tell Ron. Not anybody.”

Ginny and Hermione both promised to keep what Harry told them secret. Harry told them the story of what had happened since his birthday, with the notable exceptions of anything concerning the Golden Unicorn, the Black Wand Moody had given him, and details of the sex he and Tonks had gotten up to. Hermione had actually been shocked at what Harry had done with Tonks. She had started in on him until Ginny informed her that she knew what Harry had done and had fully forgiven him.

“If I could have been there with him then I would have been his first,” said Ginny to Hermione. “But I couldn’t be there to help relieve him, so Tonks did it for me. You and I both know she had no interest in taking Harry from me.”

Harry went on to the most painful part of the story explaining what had really happened that final morning, and that the paper account was almost all bullshit.

“So it was really just you and Tonks against four Death Eaters?” asked Ginny.

“Yes.”

“Something I don’t understand about this, Harry,” asked Hermione. “If Tonks’ arms were bound, who killed that Phingarbang fellow? Was it one of the other Death Eaters?”

“It was me,” said Harry. “I called my wand the way Moody had taught me and used the killing curse on him. I tried to kill Bellatrix the same way but she dodged and I blew up a chair. Crabbe died later, Voldemort killed him. I felt it inside my head, I can’t explain it, but it’s true.”

“And you’re still all bruised up down there, Harry,” asked Ginny.

“Yes, everything is still black and blue, and it hurts to pee, even to get an erection.”

“You must have been in pain last night,” said Ginny. “I’m so sorry, baby, I didn’t know that when I was teasing you. I’m sorry. You can still wank it though can’t you?”

“Thanks to Madam Hooch I can,” said Harry, and he proceeded to tell them about his strange visitor and what she had done.

“Madam Hooch is a member of the Inquisition!” exclaimed Ginny. “I would never have thought she would become one of those horrid bastards.”

Harry seemed to be only one that noticed that Hermione gave Ginny the strangest look of disbelief at her statement about the Inquisition. “The Inquisition serves a real purpose of defending the Magical community. They put away dark wizards and other criminals. Don’t judge … them all based on Umbridge, that fat stupid cow of an Inquisitor.”

Hermione was so glad that she had caught herself in time from saying ‘us’ instead of ‘them’ to Ginny. She was also concerned for Harry. When Harry had related the visions he had seen during the healing procedure with Hooch she recognized that Hooch had already read Harry’s mind. In her training Hermione had already witnessed several MPRs on detainees, though she hadn’t been allowed to attempt it herself on someone. She did know the signs of it. Hermione was a bit angry at Hooch for reading Harry’s mind that way, but she did recognize that the Inquisition had a need to know what had happened there. Maybe by being in the Inquisition she could fix it so that nothing was done to Harry.

“I swear, Hermione,” said Ginny. “You must have gotten so hard up for something new to read this summer that you read over all the Ministry propaganda booklets.”

“No,” said Hermione. “I’m just being fair. Harry said he felt better after she helped him. All she did was ask a few questions of him.”

Ginny chose to avoid conflict over the issue, her worry was Harry. “Lay down on the couch with your trousers undone,” she said to Harry. “I’ll give it a nice easy wanking, I promise I’ll be gentle with it, Harry.”

Harry couldn’t believe himself, but he knew he had to turn Ginny down. If Ron found out about it he’d catch hell. “Please don’t, Ginny. I don’t want you seeing me all bruised and bloodied down there. It hurts when I have to do it myself. Please give me a little time to heal up some. Please.”

“Are you sure about this, Harry?” she asked. “Maybe it would help it heal quicker.”

“No, Ginny,” said Harry “Madam Hooch said to keep it to just once a day.”

The trio talked awhile longer but the girls were clearly exhausted and needed sleep, Harry was ready for bed also. Harry received soft kiss on the cheek from Hermione as she left, Ginny remained behind.

“I’m sorry again about last night. It must have hurt like hell to wank it last night after the cock teasing I did.”

“Well yes, it did,” said Harry. “But it still felt good.” Harry reached in his pant and pulled out the black knickers Ginny had left him the night before. “I wanted to return these though. They sure helped last night. It was like you were there with me.”

“You can keep them, Harry. They’re a present.”

“Well thank you, but I’d prefer it if you took them back, had them laundered, wore them all day then brought them to me fresh off of you. The effect goes a bit stale once they dry out and get funky.”

Ginny grinned widely and Harry saw her tongue trace the outlines of her lips. Harry knew damn well what he wished that tongue was licking right now, but he had to wait.

“I see, Harry,” she said. “You mean that once they dry out they smell like the shit house door off a tuna boat, eh?”

“I didn’t say that, Ginny. Besides I made my own contribution to their funkyness myself last night.”

“You shot your wad in my knickers?”

“Yeah, it was the closest thing I had to you available. I mean that if I can’t have the real thing, then they were literally the closest thing.”

Ginny stepped in and kissed Harry. “The real thing is available whenever you’re ready for it. You only have to ask.”

Harry actually felt for a moment as though he was getting hard, but he controlled himself. After a bit more kissing and a little quiet chatting, Ginny left for the night. Harry went upstairs, brushed his teeth, he thought about the gloves but decided to pass. It was just as well, in a few minutes he was sound asleep.