The Other Potter

Part 5

Harriet wasn't surprised that her father stepped up his protections for the summer. The very reason he had brought them home early via floo was so that he could update and improve the wards surrounding their manor. James however wasn't as understanding... leading to their current argument; Two days in and James was already acting like a brat.

"I don't understand why I can't go meet up with my friends in Diagon alley!" her brother whined.

"Because it's dangerous James, if you want to see them you can have them over anytime."

"But it's boring here, we've done everything."

Harriet didn't withhold her eye roll, her brother had an entire manor, Quidditch pitch and library at his disposal yet said there was nothing to do?

"James you know that it isn't safe, you've seen the papers and I can tell you it's getting worse, each day more people are disappearing."

"But they're only attacking muggles and muggleborns. We're all purebloods apart from Remus who's a half blood; we'll be fine if we go to the alley for a few hours."

Harriet was surprised James would say that, but then again if it helped him get his way she shouldn't have been.

"It doesn't matter who they've attacked so far James, they're escalating and soon it won't matter."

Tuning out of their argument Harriet wondered what would happen in the future.

///

Harriet had met aunt Cassiopeia a handful of times growing up. She knew the woman had a reputation; she was like all Blacks, rather infamous, her black book was the envy and terror of almost everyone.

"You look like a Black at least," were the first words the old witch said when Harriet stepped from the floo.

Harriet wondered about the relevance of such a comment but knew better than to question her elders, Arcturus had taught her that early on. So instead she nodded her head slightly and replied, "thank you, I am told I look like my mother."

The old witch smirked, "respectful to, yes I can work with this..."

If Harriet had ever believed her childhood lessons with her uncle were rough, such thoughts were quickly dispelled within a few short hours. She was in hell; it was the only explanation.

"Dodge girl," the demented old witch cackled, gleefully slinging a sickly yellow coloured spell at Harry.

Spinning, Harriet dodged the spell, throwing back an entail expelling curse. She surprised when she was only half disappointed that it didn't connect to her current duelling partner.

Harriet had naively thought that her lessons with Cassiopeia would be dull; the old lady had lured her into a false sense of security as the first half of their lesson had been her quizzing Harry on magic, history and politics.

Cassiopeia had been impressed with the girl, she was quick and didn't give away her hand to much; shocking for a Potter raised Ravenclaw, the girl answered and manipulated her answers like a veteran snake. Her potential was great, with a few lessons on the finer areas of politics and people management, Cassiopeia could see her going far.

It wasn't just Cassiopeia who was impressed; Harriet, though reluctant to admit it as she was currently exhausted, was in slight awe of the old witch. Cassiopeia's political savvy was immense, she could manipulate a room full of people and dig out their secrets faster than anybody Harriet had ever seen, and she could do it without them being any the wiser. Such skill shouldn't have shocked Harriet. Everybody knew not to mess with the Blacks; they were powerful not just magically but politically as well. Still, Harriet mused, as she dodged another spell blast, having an eighty four year old witch spinning and cursing at you, while still managing to question your knowledge of family histories was a shocking and awe-inspiring experience.