Harry Potter: The Witty Wizard

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied. "And I think I'll go back to using detection charms on everything again."

"If you know them, you should be using them," she sternly told him.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied. "But, what I want to know is how he managed to get a portkey to activate within here. That should not have been poss... oh, wait."

"Wait?" asked Watkins.

Harry sighed and looked a little pained before he replied, "I asked the goblins to set up anti-portkey wards that would stop a portkey getting into here. I didn't ask them to set up a ward that stopped them going out."

"It should have still stopped that," she frowned. "However, Dumbledore is powerful enough... and the portkey trace certainly appeared powerful enough... Dumbledore might have suspected an anti-portkey ward and overpowered it."

Dawkins said, "We'll need to check the wards." Then left to go and do exactly that.

"That done, we need to head for work," said Monica.

Turing to Harry she said, "Harry, can I speak with you a moment before we go?"

"Yes, Ma'am," and blushed again.

As they stepped into the kitchen and before Harry could say a word she said, "Listen to me, Harry."

When he nodded back, she quietly said, "I know what you saw when you first saw Hermione come into the dinette."

Harry immediately deeply blushed again and tried to speak around his suddenly dry throat.

"Shh!" she firmly said.

When he stopped trying to talk, he looked away.

"What happened was an accident," she firmly said. "Hermione forgot we had guests, or forgot how she was dressed. Either way, it doesn't matter.

"Then, when she crashed into the auror, your attention was immediately drawn to her. You then got an 'eyeful'."

"U-ummm―" he stammered.

"Hermione knows what happened and doesn't blame you for it," she explained. "She knows she was at fault and I know she's already accepted blame. Expect her to apologise to you for it."

"Sh-she really doesn't need to do that," he tried. "I... umm... I know it was an accident, too. She heard trouble and came down with her wand ready to help. I-it would just embarrass us both."

"You're a good boy, Harry," she gently said. "You saw there was a problem with her dress and you immediately averted your eyes. That shows you have respect for her."

"Can we... not talk about this any more?" he almost whined.

She grinned and said, "Now that I've said what needed to be said, yes."

When Harry seemed to sag in relief she said, "Have a good day. But, when Hermione apologises to you, let her. She'll feel she needs to. Then, once she does, you can both drop it. Alright?

"Yes, Ma'... errr... Monica."

"Good," she firmly stated. "Time for Wendell and I to go to work. We'll be back home about the same time as last night."

Then she left.

With a sigh, thankful she'd left, he leaned back against the kitchen counter and thought about what he'd seen. And then tried not to.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

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Wendell awaited Monica near the door to the garage downstairs, holding her coat for her. As soon as he saw her, he readied the coat before helping her into it, then held the door open for her, not saying a word.

As soon as they stepped in, Wendell closed the door behind them and turned to her. She was already turned about to look at him with a firm look on her face.

"'Dell; calm down!" she firmly said, before he had a chance to say anything.

"He ogled our daughter's―" he tried.

"He bloody well did not!" she snapped over the top of him. "Hermione rushed downstairs and charged into the room. Her crashing into the auror drew his eyes to her to check and make sure she was alright.

"As soon as he saw that her top was translucent - not transparent - he immediately... and I'm talking quicker than I thought his reflexes should be... averted his eyes to the point he spun completely about so his back was to her," she firmly stated. "He did everything he could to make sure he wasn't looking at what he felt he shouldn't be looking at. He did nothing wrong and everything right."

"But that still means he had to look down to see―" he tried.

''Dell; your daughter is a pale-skinned Caucasian. She doesn't topless sunbathe, so the skin of her breasts is as pale as it gets. She also has dark areolae―"

When Wendell gave a start and tried to back off, she immediately snapped. "No; you need to listen."

When he calmed down, still fuming a little but also uncomfortable, he gave a little nod. But he wouldn't say a word.

Seeing it, she continued, "She has dark areolae about the size of double florins with almost too tiny to be useful nipples, also dark. But that last has to do with her age, as you well know.

"When she came charging into the dinette her breasts were also bouncing a little because, like me, she doesn't wear a bra to bed. So, whether it was just adrenalin or the fact her nipples were rubbing on the inside of the material, they had hardened. And were, therefore, jutting out."

"Mo-on!" he whined. "This is my daughter you're describing to me!"

"Just a sec," she shot back. "So, Harry caught the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, caught sight of your daughter crashing into the auror - who was otherwise busy and never visually noticed a thing - and movement under her translucent top drew his eyes to follow it. That was purely instinctive on his part.

"And, I remind you, as soon as he realised what happened and what he was looking at, in less than a second he was already spinning away. As I said, that's bloody quick reflexes.

"Harry did not 'ogle' Hermione, as you put it. If anything, he proved to be incredibly chivalrous. Can you possibly tell me, at his age, you'd have done better?"

Slumping against the door-frame, Wendell quietly replied, "No."

"Then, stop with the nonsense!" she demanded. "I'll also point out that Henrietta also immediately saw the problem and conjured a robe for her."

Grumbling a bit, he said, "You make it hard to be a righteous father when you keep getting so bloody logical on me."

"I know, dear," she smiled. "That's because, all too often, being a righteous father is illogical."

He sighed and said, "How about we travel in one car, today? We're both leaving work at the same time and, on the drive, we can talk more about this... Betrothal Agreement."

"I'd like that," she replied with a nod.

"But, this evening," he declared, stopping as he was about to head for the driver's side door of his car. "You will talk to our daughter about what she wears to bed."

"I intend to," she replied. '... not,' she thought.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

As the Grangers pulled out of the driveway, Hermione was watching from the window of the parlour. When she saw they were both in the same car she didn't bother to wait for the other to also pull out.

She wondered what the delay was all about but thought it would be her mother laying down the law with her father. She knew he'd been upset. While her mother was talking with Harry in low voices in the kitchen, her father had glared at her and told her in one single clipped sentence she and her mother would be talking about her state of dress, that night.

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