Lord of Caer Azkaban Chapter 34: The End, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: They say good things come to those who wait, they also say that the early bird catches the worm, I wish they'd make up their damn minds. Sorry it took so long.

The End

After excusing themselves from the main party, our three heros returned to their apartments and were soon sitting on Harry's bed having the private gathering he'd promised earlier that night.

"Here you are, Hermione." Becky handed a large object wrapped in a metallic gold paper to her friend. "I thought it prudent to wait until after we'd retired from the public party to give this to you."

"What's this?" Hermione asked as she unwrapped the package.

"It is a book," Becky replied. "Much like the one I carry but it is connected to the library rather then the records."

"Thank you Becky." Hermione lit up. "It's perfect."

"It was . . ."

"Very thoughtful of you," Harry interrupted with a smile. "Good work." He wasn't the sort to take credit for his assistant's thoughtfulness.

"I . . . thank you my Lord," Becky said with a shy smile.

"And here's my gift for you," Harry said as he handed her a small jewelry box.

"It's beautiful," Hermione gasped as she opened the box and stared down at the ornate ring and simple gold chain.

"Took the finest craftsmen I have months to build," Harry said proudly. "They've been working on it since you came to the island."

"Becky?" Hermione gasped.

"Something they did on their own accord," Becky explained. "The guild master said it was all account of some wishful thinking on his part."

"I don't know what to say," Hermione said tearfully. "Harry, would you put it on for me?"

"Of course," he agreed.

Hermione pulled her hair up to make it easier for him and shivered in pleasure as his fingers dragged across the back of her neck.

"Did you?" Hermione whispered hopefully.

"We can put it on your finger after the second one is finished," Harry replied softly. "I . . ." whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a knock at the door. With a sigh, Harry walked to the door and opened it to reveal three of his bodyguards.

"What is it?" Harry asked curtly.

"Sir," one of the men said reluctantly, "you ordered us to report when we were ready?"

"Yes I did," Harry agreed, a touch calmer, "is everything in place?"

"It is my Lord," he agreed.

"Execute," Harry ordered, "and keep me appraised."

"It shall be done my Lord," he agreed.

"Harry what's going on?" Hermione asked.

"Later," Harry said firmly, "it's business and we can deal with that after your birthday."

"Becky?"

"Harry has not seen fit to bring me into his confidence on this matter," Becky replied.

"And that is because I didn't want to put you in an situation where you'd have to choose between me and Hermione," Harry said quickly, "not because I don't trust you . . . either of you."

"Be that as it may," Becky continued, "you know what my choice would have been my Lord."

"I know. I'd still rather not put you in that position," Harry said firmly, "enough business. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Becky said quickly.

"For now," Hermione said reluctantly, "but I want to know what this is all about."

"You'll both know everything soon," Harry said, "now then . . . what's this I hear about practice?"

"I believe a demonstration would be the best way of explaining it, Harry," Becky said with an eager smile. "Hermione, would you like to demonstrate first?"

"This one's all you," Hermione replied, "wouldn't be fair to go first all the time."

"I . . ." Becky closed her mouth with a snap. She was about to say something about how it wouldn't be proper. "I suppose it couldn't hurt," Becky justified to herself, "to go first."

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"I . . . thank you, Hermione," Becky said louder. "Now then, might I show you what we have learned?"

"I'd like that," Harry said. He opened his arms in invitation. "Come over here, Becky."

"As my Lord commands," she agreed happily.

IIIIIIIIII

Four teams of four took positions in the hills and fields directly north, south, east, and west of the old Riddle house. Each had been given the mission of finding a suitable position an observation post, and later a location to anchor a set of ward stones.

"We're in," the team commander whispered into his watch, "no indication that we've been compromised." He listened to his instructions before hunkering down next to his partner.

"What's the word?"

"Remain in place," the team commander replied. "Keep an eye on the house, and hope like hell no one notices us."

"Right."

IIIIIIIIII

'Marcus' walked up to Commander Maxwell, head of the guard, and saluted.

"Sir, Happy to report a successful infiltration."

"Why is your hand trembling?" The head of Azkaban's military forces asked mildly.

"Exposure to Crucio, Sir."

"Get that looked at after your report," Maxwell said calmly.

"Sir."

"Do we know when the next gathering is going to be?"

"No, sir. Intelligence reports seem to be correct."

"Shame he wasn't completely incompetent," Maxwell sighed, "would have been so much easier to be able to do this on a time table."

"As you say, sir."

"Your orders are to remain in place until the next major meeting," Maxwell's voice hardened. "When you feel the wards go up, you are to sow as much confusion as possible before making your escape."

"By your command," the polyjuiced islander agreed.

"Lord Azkaban has ordered you to make team survival a priority," Maxwell continued, "he states that the unnecessary death of any of his men is not to be tolerated."

"Yes, sir. I will take all the proper precautions but should my death be necessary then I will show the world why Azkaban is to be feared."

"Do you have anything else to report?"

"No, sir."

"Dismissed."

IIIIIIIIII

Ron's mouth was dry as he stared down at the chess board. Despite his attempt to keep focused, his eyes kept flicking up to inspect his opponent's face.

'I just gotta find an opening and make my move,' he thought to himself. 'it's just like chess. No need to rush things, just wait for the right moment.'

"You gonna stare at me all day, or are you going to make your move?" his opponent asked with a sultry grin. She stretched, causing the buttons on her shirt to strain in ways that captured Ron's full attention.

"Er." Ron glanced down at the board and made a motion to his Knight. "Check," he said nervously.

"Hmmm," the girl focused on the board. "Good move."

"Mate in three," Ron offered casually.

"I see it," she agreed. She sighed. "And I don't see any way out of it either, least nothing obvious."

"So you want to uh . . . do something together later?" Ron asked nervously.

"I'd love another game," she agreed absently. Her attention still focused on the board.

"I didn't mean that," Ron backpedaled. "But I'd love another game too . . . I was thinking . . . uh, it's so hard to find a decent partner."

"Isn't it?"

"So once you find one, you shouldn't let her go." Ron babbled. "I already know that you're a good chess partner and I'd like to find out if we might . . . uh."

A playful grin appeared on her face. "Are you asking me to go out with you?"

"Trying to," Ron croaked.

"Good, I was wondering when you'd get around to it. Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes," she said as she made her move. "That's mate."

"What?" Ron stared at the board in shock.

"That puts me one behind," she said coyly. "Let's hope this arrangement of ours works out. One hundred games isn't enough, think how many we could have in the long term."

"I can't believe I fell for that," Ron said in shock. The boy was still focused on the board. "Wanna go get something to eat?"

"They have boards set into the tables at that place near the west gate," the girl said thoughtfully. "And private booths where we can . . . uh." Her face was as red as his hair.

"Get to know each other?"

"Yes, that."

IIIIIIIIII

As he awoke, Harry quickly became aware that this morning was very different from the all ones that had preceded it, for one thing, there was a pool of warmth on either side that told him he had not spent the night alone, for another, he was filled with a sense of contentment, having spent the best night's sleep he could remember.

He turned his head to find his assistant looking back at him through half lidded eyes. "Mmmmmorning my Lord," Becky purred. Looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary. "I've taken the liberty of clearing your morning schedule in case you should desire to lounge about in bed for the next few hours," she added a touch hopefully.

Harry pulled the girl close. "I think that would be a prudent course of action," he whispered.

"Is Hermione awake?" Becky asked as she cuddled up to Harry's side.

"Doesn't look like it," Harry murmured.

"Then with your permission, I shall return to my dreams."

"Granted," Harry said softly. He placed a tender kiss on her brow.

"Thank you, my Harry," Becky sighed.

Harry gently detached himself from the two girls and stepped into his sitting room and pulled the bell cord to summon his breakfast. It was nice to be able to do things for himself again, the boy reflected to himself.

"Commander Maxwell wishes to have a word with you, my Lord," the guard that accompanied his breakfast reported.

Harry sat down and took his first bite. "Tell him that he can come to me or I can come to him," Harry said. "Whichever is most convenient."

"He's waiting outside, sir."

"Excellent," Harry said with a smile. "Send him in."

The guard opened the door and stood at ridged attention as the commander of Azkaban's military entered the room.

"My Lord," the man said with a salute.

"Have a seat." Harry waved the man towards Hermione's usual spot. "Had anything to eat?"

"Yes, my Lord," the general said respectfully.

"What news do you have for me?"

"Five of seven indicators point to optimal conditions for an assault later today," Commander Maxwell reported.

Harry put down his fork. "You have operational control, do whatever you think is best."

"Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord."

"I want to be informed immediately if you decide to move," Harry continued seriously. "No matter what time it is or what I'm doing at the time."

"Understood, my Lord."

"Was there anything else?" The smile returned to Harry's face.

"Madame Bones wishes to have her forces take part in the assault force, my Lord," the Commander said stiffly.

"Can you use them?"

"Depends on who she sends, my Lord." The Commander frowned. " McAlister, wished me to pass along his strong recommendation that we accept."

"Accept then," Harry ordered. "Use them if you can, shuffle them off to something unimportant if you can't."

"Thy will be done, my Lord."

"That all?"

"Every subject I wished to breach, my Lord."

"Anything you need to be personally involved in for the next hour or so?" Harry asked.

"Nothing, my Lord."

"Then there's a personal matter I'd like to discuss with you." A smile lit Harry's face. "If you don't mind, of course."

"I am at your service, my Lord."

IIIIIIIIII

Hermione snuggled into the warm lump by her side and it was several minutes before she realized that the lump was much softer then it should have been.

"Where's Harry?" she asked sleepily.

"My Harry?" Becky mumbled. "Her eyes scanned the bed. My Lord?" She was suddenly alert.

"Probably in the other room," Hermione said soothingly. "No sense getting worked up until we're sure we don't know where he is."

"You are correct, Hermione," Becky agreed. "Let us check."

The two girls stepped off the bed and onto the thick carpet that covered the floor of Harry's bedchamber and walked to the door that separated it from the sitting room.

The tension disappeared from Becky's shoulders when she saw her Lord calmly eating his breakfast with Azkaban's military Commander.

"My Lord," Becky sighed.

"Good morning again," Harry said cheerfully. "Wanted to let you two sleep in."

"My place is by your side, my Lord," Becky reproached.

"And I would not have left my living quarters without you unless there was an emergency," Harry assured his assistant. He turned back to his meal time companion. "Thanks for the advice," Harry said gratefully.

"Not a problem, my Lord," the Commander said with a grin. "Just remember that your word is law, that usually overcomes most objections."

"Right," Harry laughed.

"Now if you will excuse me, my Lord. Madame Bones should be in her office by now."

"Go ahead," Harry agreed.

"Then I shall take my leave, my Lord," Commander Maxwell saluted once more before leaving the room.

IIIIIIIIII

As it happened, Amelia was in her new office and had been for quite some time when the flames changed color, indicating an incoming call.

A hopeful smile appeared on the Minister's face when she recognized the wrinkled face of Abaleric McAlister, the Chief of Azkabans' Foreign Service.

"What's the news?" she asked.

"After giving careful consideration to your request, my Lord Azkaban has decided to grant it. Please place your forces on high alert."

"Will do, and please pass along the Ministry's thanks to Lord Azkaban for a chance to help clean up the mess we should have taken care of a long time ago."

"I shall," the man promised as the flames returned to normal.

Amelia stepped out of her office and made the short trip down to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

She was swarmed by eager Aurors the moment she walked into the door.

"They accept our offer, boss?" one of them asked hopefully.

"They did," Amelia agreed. "Department's on lockdown for the next twenty four hours."

She waited until the cheers subsided to continue, "Gather everyone round. Have a couple issues you need to be made aware of."

"You got it, boss."

Amelia took a deep breath before she began her speech. "First of all, I think you should know that I am not going to authorize the use of Unforgivables. I'm sorry but it's just not politically feasible."

She sighed, she'd thought that she'd be able to avoid all that when she became Minister, she'd been wrong. "That said I would like to point out that the entire operation is under the command of the Lord of Azkaban and that in the unlikely even that any of you go on trial for anything related to your actions this night and assuming that you are convicted, it's likely that you won't be on Azkaban island for more then two seconds before you're made a citizen."

"Got it boss," the Chief Auror agreed. "It's what we expected anyway."

IIIIIIIIII

The guard glanced down at the pulsating mark on the imprisoned Death Eater's arm and a smile formed on the man's face as he realized what it could mean. Dropping everything, the man rushed down the hallway to report the activity.

Maxwell took the news calmly. "Well, looks like this is it. The mark's activated on every Death Eater we've got. Take your Polyjuice, go in, and get me the confirmation we need."

'Marcus' glanced around, checking to make sure the potion had worked and that every member of his team was disguised. "For the Lord Azkaban," he cheered.

"For the Lord Azkaban," his team echoed.

"Good luck." Commander Maxwell watched as they filed out. "And don't die."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry and the girls were just finishing up their meal when a breathless courier arrived to share the news.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Looks like it's time," Harry replied.

"What's . . . Voldemort?" the girl bit her lip in distress. "You're not going, Harry."

"I must agree, my Lord," Becky stated formally. "Your life is too important to risk."

"And my skill level is far too low to do any good," Harry added with a frown. "Relax. I'm not going anywhere until the fighting is over."

"And then?" Hermione prompted.

"Then I'll make sure things are finished, once and for all."

IIIIIIIIII

Above the old Riddle estate, the teams watched as Death Eaters began to appear.

"Report that we've got increased activity," the detachment leader ordered. "And tell them that it looks like this is it."

"Yes, sir."

IIIIIIIIII

The men lined up in formation with their gear at their feet, each man wondering if it was just another drill or if they would finally get a chance to cut out the cancer that had infected the United Kingdom.

They watched as their officers marched to their places and their hearts sunk when they did not see any signs of excitement. Another drill, then. Another chance missed and another day the bastards would live to see.

Hope surged as their commander cracked a smile. "Mount up, time to make the bastards die for their false Lord."

IIIIIIIIII

As his men prepared to go into battle Harry paced back and fourth thoughts whirling. Fists clenched and teeth ground tightly together, Harry cast another longing glance at the door. It was almost unbearable, the knowledge that his men were going into harms way without their Lord along to share the risks. It felt like a betrayal, knowing that his men would be fighting and dying while he remained safely within fortress Azkaban.

A timid knock on the door interrupted Harry's musings. He flung open the door and glared down at the little man on the other side.

"It had better be good." Harry's face was stormy. "I left orders that I was not to be disturbed with non-military matters."

"It's finished, my Lord," the jeweler said nervously. "I managed to get it done earlier then expected."

"And I also ordered you to bring it straight to me as soon as it was done," Harry sighed. "I apologize for my earlier outburst."

"I understand, my Lord." The man gave a tight smile. "My oldest boy's unit is out there right now. S'why I got the ring finished so quickly, anything to take my mind of what could be happening to my son."

IIIIIIIIII

Marcus gave the nod to one of the others to send confirmation. The Dark Lord Voldemort had not chosen to form his full host but he had gathered enough so that any stragglers could be hunted down and terminated at leisure.

Doing their best not to draw any attention, the team ghosted out of the room, reassembling at the edge of the wards.

"Thunder," a voice whispered from the shadows.

"Flash," Marcus whispered back.

"Losses?"

"None."

IIIIIIIIII

Voldemort leapt to his feet as the wards were wrenched from his control. What fool would dare to assault the Dark Lord in his own lair?

"Death Eaters, to me!" He ordered.

IIIIIIIIII

Maxwell stood with his arms crossed on a hill overlooking the old Riddle manor enjoying the calm before the storm, enjoying the last moments of peace before it was shattered by the coming battle.

"Sir," one of his aids spoke up. "We've got a dozen wards over theirs."

"How many layers can we manage?"

"A dozen," the man reported. "Should we begin the assault?"

"We control their wards?" Maxwell demanded, needing to be absolutely sure.

"We do, sir."

"Then hang the assault, fire the place and give the bastards a choice between death by fire inside and death by spell outside.

"Yes, sir," the aid agreed with a cold smile. Not even the most idiotic glory seeker had relished the idea of digging the terrorists out by hand.

Within minutes of the order being given, the wards against fire had fallen and the air filled with spells to set alight Voldemort's last strong hold.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry caught Hermione's eye as he returned to his bedchamber and gave her a slow nod, to which the girl replied with a wide smile.

"Becky," he barked.

"My Lord?"

"My upbringing simply will not permit me to keep you as a mistress," Harry said to his pretty aide.

Schooling her face into impassivity, she replied, "I understand, my lord."

He smiled. "No, I don't think you do. You see, I can't possibly hurt Hermione either, because I've already said that I'd like to make her Lady Azkaban someday." He put his hand on Becky shoulder. "Besides, Hermione isn't the only one I'd be lost without." He let his hand slide over, and he brushed his thumb down her cheek, making her lean into it unconsciously. "I think I'll just have to make a new law for Azkaban, that the Lord is permitted more than one wife."

"My Lord?" she asked, startled.

"Besides, what does it say when I take a wife from outside Azkaban's shores to become Lady Azkaban, when there is a woman here who could do the job?" He smiled. "It doesn't hurt that she's more than pleasant to look at. Waking up and seeing your face every morning is something I look forward to, Becky, just like Hermione. We already seem to be acting like we're married, so why not make it
official someday?"

"But . my Lord," she stammered, dropping her face to look at the floor. "It wouldn't be proper! I am but a lowly servant!"

He lifted her face. "I was just another wizard who had no idea of how to run a country until this pretty young lady with her book came along and helped me get an understanding of the way things work here." He laughed. "Isn't it amazing that the two women in my life who mean everything to me both find books incredibly important?"

He shook his head. "The point is that I would not be half as good at ruling if not for a certain 'lowly servant', Becky. To me, you are anything but lowly. I couldn't run this place without you. Why not do it from beside me, rather than beneath me?"

She blushed furiously for just a moment. Harry caught her eyes sparkling, and suddenly realized what she must have had run through her mind. "Later, Becky." Her eyes widened, but she shook her head. "You're not the only one who's mind can go in those directions, milady."

"I am no lady," she finally said, the blush fading. "You deserve a high-born woman as your wife."

Harry looked over to Hermione. "Are you nobility?"

"Not unless 'dentist' is a rank of nobility I've never heard of," she replied.

He looked in her eyes and willed her to understand what he was about to say. "Well then, I guess that our wedding will have to be cancelled, Hermione. Becky says that I can't change the laws to allow me to marry her as well because she's not nobility." He hoped that his eyes were giving her enough information.

Hermione looked at him for a moment and then became thoughtful. "Actually, I believe that you're correct. I understand having to cancel our nuptials. Shall I begin the process of finding you a suitable wife?"

Becky looked stricken. "But ."

"If you're too low-born for him, then so am I," Hermione said. She pulled the girl into a hug and whispered, "Besides, if he's willing to change the laws to marry you, I think that he'll find a way to marry you. If I have to share him, at least it's with you." She kissed the crying girl on the cheek.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out an ornate ring on a gold chain, similar to the one he'd presented Hermione with the day before.

"Do you want this, Becky?" Harry asked.

"I want it very much, my Lord, but . . ."

"Then take it," he said gently. "Please."

"Thank you, my lord," Becky whispered. "Would you help me put it on, Hermione?"

"I would be delighted," Hermione agreed.

IIIIIIIIII

Knowing that they were doomed, the trapped Death Eaters sortied several times in an attempt to break out of the trap they'd found themselves in. Each ended in failure, littering the grounds with the corpses of the Dark Lord's feared army.

As they fire grew, so to did the desperation of the last surviving Death Eaters. Deciding that it was better to die like men with their wands in their hands than it was to be burned to death, they decided to stage one last break out.

Grins appeared on the faces of the besiegers as some mysterious sense informed them that the battle had nearly reached its conclusion.

Bursts of spell fire cut down each of the rats fleeing the castle long before they had a chance to reach the ward line to transport themselves to safety. Once again the forces of Azkaban had taken the field and once again they'd been granted their victory.

"Find the Dark Lord," Maxwell ordered. "Find Voldemort, I wish to present our Lord with his head."

"What about the wounded, sir?" One of his aids asked.

"Feed them to the Dementors," Maxwell barked. "Show them the same mercy they'd have shown us."

"Sir." The man clicked his heels before making an about face and leaving to carry out the order.

IIIIIIIIII

Harry flung open the door to find an orderly standing in a rigid posture of attention. "Yes?"

"Commander Maxwell's compliments, my Lord. He bade me to report that we have met the enemy forces and we have crushed them. Our side reports no losses, theirs suffered one hundred percent thought Commander Maxwell regretfully adds that not all the rats were present when we sprung the trap."

"Voldemort?"

"If my Lord would look out his south window, I believe the men have a present for him on the lawn," the orderly reported.

Harry walked to the window and looked down to see two of his soldiers holding a pike upon which was the head of Tom Riddle. Without thinking, Harry raised his right hand and gave a small wave. "Hello."

"Take a letter," Harry barked.

"My Lord," the orderly agreed.

"My sincerest thanks and congratulations to the brave soldiers of Azkaban who have brought me this victory, I promise that my thanks will come in tangable form upon your return."

"Is that all, my Lord?"

"For now," Harry agreed. "Dismissed."

"Yes, my Lord."

IIIIIIIIII

Azkaban, two years later:

Harry sat ramrod straight in the back of his carriage, Hermione on the left and Becky on the right, as it pulled away from the castle. Of all the duties he'd assumed when he'd become Azkaban's leader, this was by far the most difficult.

"I don't see why we couldn't have put this off for a week or two," Harry grumbled.

"The people wish to celebrate with you, Harry," Becky sighed, laying her head on his shoulder. "It is only fair that you make an appearance."

"It's just as difficult for us," Hermione said firmly. "Besides, it won't take that long for the carriage to make a circle around the town and back to the castle."

"You relayed my orders?" Harry asked calmly.

"Anyone disturbing us had better have a damn good reason or be capable of living without their head," Hermione giggled.

"Good."

The streets were lined with flowers and crowds cheering themselves horse as the carriage carrying the Lord and new Ladies Azkaban passed by.

"Wave to the people, Harry," Becky whispered as she held up her hand.

"And smile," Hermione added.

"We'll tell the driver to hurry up if you do," Becky promised.

"Deal," Harry agreed.

"AZKABAN AZKABAN AZKABAN," the crowd chanted, delirious with joy.

AN: This will be a multi part note for a number of reasons.

The first thing I'd like to say is that I've got a short story published, links to it can be found in my author profile.

The second thing I'd like to say before getting to the rest of the AN is that I am glad this is over, it's my first big fic and I was afraid that I'd never be able to finish it. Good to see that I was wrong.

I found my problem with not being able to write more chapters. I had a battle scene half written, a great duel between Harry and Volde while their armies fought each other. There were several problems with this, I had already established that Azkaban had the best troops in the world and I've never had much respect for death eaters. Another problem is that it's been done several time, many severals of times. And finally, Harry has a bunch of people that would do their best to keep him away . . . come to think of it, almost everyone in the story would try to keep him away from any danger until he had a heir. I just couldn't do it and that kept things from being written.

Thanks given for the metric tons of polish applied by dogbertcarroll

Scene by Keith McComb (You can see the unaltered version below).

OMAKE: Strike Team Alpha Returns

"Someone from the Minister's office has called," Hermione bit her lip to hold in the laughter. "They want to know if you'd be willing to send Strike Team Alpha to help secure the Minister."

"Strike Team Alpha?" Harry's eyes bulged. "I didn't know I had a Strike Team Alpha . . . Becky?"

"I am unaware of any Azkaban forces that go by that designation Harry," Becky began checking her book. "And I cannot find any mention of them in the records."

"That's because they're house elves," Hermione couldn't hold back the laughter any longer. "Winky got angry at some dumb reporter for writing nasty things about you."

"Winky?" Harry asked.

"Nasty things?" Becky growled.

"Yup," Hermione agreed. "She busted up the offices and told them to 'never write bad things about Harry Potter sir.' They dumped the article on you and wrote one about the Ministry's elite team of House Elf Commandos AKA Strike Team Alpha."

"I see," Harry said calmly.

"The Ministry knows that they don't have an elite team of House Elf Commandos so it must be yours," Hermione said happily. "And they wouldn't believe me when I told them it didn't exist, they just winked and asked me to pass along their request."

"And I had thought they'd grow a little sense with Bones at the helm," Harry said sadly. "I guess some people just can't be helped."

"The Problem is that she can't surround herself with the best people in the Ministry," Becky said with a cold grin. "Because her little staff of a half dozen would strip the departments of every ounce of brainpower, it's not surprising that her clerk is a bit dull."

Omake by Keith McComb

I agree with the attitude about two Lady Azkaban. I can actually see him looking at Becky and getting her to agree with something like:

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"You know something, Becky? My upbringing simply will not permit me to take you as a mistress," Harry said to his pretty aide.

Schooling her face into impassivity, she replied, "I understand, my lord."

"My Lord?" she asked, startled.

"But . my Lord," she stammered, dropping her face to look at the floor. "It wouldn't be proper! I am but a lowly servant!"

"I am no lady," she finally said, the blush fading. "You deserve a high-born woman as your wife."

He looked for a moment before saying to the door, "You might as well pull the Expendable Ear back, Hermione, and come on in."

The door opened to admit a blushing Hermione Granger. "Are you nobility?" he asked her.

"Not unless 'dentist' is a rank of nobility I've never heard of," she replied.

Becky looked stricken. "But ."