One then said, "We're sixteen, Mum."
"When do you think we're going to be―" asked the other.
"... old enough?" they finished together.
"We're of age in just over three months," said the first.
"Fifteen weeks," said the other
"And you're still treating us like little children," said the first.
"Is there some magic we don't know about that makes us instantly adults on the first of April?" asked the second.
Molly sighed and said, "Then in a little over three months... or fifteen weeks... you'll be allowed to know."
As Ginny walked in she asked, "Allowed to know what, Mum?"
Molly sighed and replied, "While these two will be of age in just over three months, you won't be reaching that for three years. If I won't tell them, I certainly won't be telling you.
"Now, are you three ready for breakfast?"
Knowing their mother was going to be inflexible about this, the twins each knew they'd be writing to Harry and asking him, directly. He'd know and he'd tell them.
Straight after breakfast they headed back to their shared room, set aside their prank-making experiments and began to draft a letter to Harry.
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
When Dumbledore opened his morning's copy of the Daily Prophet at the head table in the Hogwarts Great Hall that morning, he was utterly stunned by what he was reading.
'Harry successfully defends Sirius in a trial to the point the Wizengamot was forced to completely repeal a Statute? What, in Merlin's name?
'Then, when he goes to take his Seat, the Longbottom woman tries to end the alliance, one moment, before then turning around ready to declare blood feud, the next, of all things!
'And then, to everyone's complete shock, the Longbottoms step onto the main floor of the chamber, completely awake and healthy. And Harry's supposed to have had something to do with it through the calling due of a boon and the goblin's subsequent help.
'And finally, the now ex-Regent of Longbottom, that dragon of a woman, is sent home in disgrace and Longbottom - Lord Frank Longbottom - gives Harry a public House to House apology for the behaviour of his mother.
'Sweet Merlin above! Why am I only just finding out about this now? Why has no one already contacted me to let me know?
'I need to be allowed to come and go from the castle, as I need. This keeping me a... prisoner... must end!'
From four chairs away to his right, Headmistress Lady Marchbanks was quietly watching Dumbledore's reaction to the Prophet with quiet amusement, while seeming to be in a discussion with her two new Heads of House for Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.
Babbling, seeing her smirking at Dumbledore, quietly checked the man out for herself for a moment.
Turning back she said, "It appears Albus is shocked by what's in the Prophet. Think he might need a Calming draught?"
"Albus's problem is he's now out of the information loop, as the muggleborns would say," said Sinistra. "He always insisted he know of everything that was going on. It must really get into his craw that he's no longer in a position to even ask it, let alone demand it."
"I do believe you've hit upon the truth, Aurora," smiled Marchbanks. "Yes, indeed. Albus always was one who had an almost pathological need to know everything."
_‗_
―==(oIo)==―
ˇ
Harry had been wondering if he'd not received any mail, that day, when one of the aurors brought it up from the servants' quarters. It was a pretty decent stack.
Harry took one look at it and sighed. "Fan mail?" he asked.
"Not unless you believe Ted Tonks to be a fan, Lord Potter," smiled the auror.
"Just him?" he asked.
"Just him."
He sighed again and moved the pile to the centre of the table so he could start to look through it all. Hermione stepped forward to help as the auror retreated.
After a little while she said, "This is all financial. Your liquid assets in the form of gold on hand and muggle investments."
She then suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, my god!" And was looking at a sheet of parchment in shock.
"What is it, Hermione?" he asked.
"Harry," she said, slowly looking up at him. "You're rich!"
"I'm aware, Hermione," he said. "I believe I've told you that before."
"No," she said, still looking almost in awe at him. "I mean you're rich rich. You'd challenge Her Majesty and Richard Branson for being the richest person in Britain sort of rich!
"And that's just your liquid assets - gold, bonds and stocks in both worlds - not your Net Worth!"
Gently sliding over and grabbing her by the upper arms, he held her at arms length and said, "Hermione. Once you reach the point and can honestly say you're rich, how much above that it gets is somewhat irrelevant.
"I could, quite literally, spend over a million galleons a year and not make a dent in the Potter fortune. I rake in far more than that in interest alone.
"That's why, once I realised I was way past the point I'd ever have to worry about money again, it became just a number to me. I know some people 'keep score' about those sort of things... such as Malfoy, obviously... but that's not how I think.
"To me, money is just something I have that I can give to someone else for them to give me something I want or need in return. And I have way more than enough of it to never, ever again go without.
"I value other things more highly than simple gold. I value friendship, love, family and things like that to have a value far higher than any overfull vault of gold I have.
"Do you understand?"
Hermione had calmed back down as Harry talked. She was still trying to get her head around the fact her boyfriend... her betrothed... was in the top five of the richest people in the country. And he didn't consider it important.
"But―" she tried.
"No buts," he firmly said. "You make me feel like I'm the richest man in the world just by being my girlfriend."
That earned him a proper snog; and he got it, right there in the dinette. No 'wandering hands', though.
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