"It might, Luna, if I were asking for input only on known variables. But I'm asking for input with the express purpose of exposing variables I may have missed in my initial sweep."
"My lord?"
"Yes, Luna?"
"Can we call our first daughter 'Athena'?"
"Err…" Harry's bullet train thoughts noticed the log on the track far too late and smashed right into it. "I… er… what?"
Luna rose from her chair. "I think you should consider which property already holds the most grand strategic potential, And which property will force you to develop even more grand strategic potential in the future. That's my council, my lord." She then skipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Harry stared at the door for an age while his brain rebooted. Only Luna.
He turned back to stare at the just vacated empty chair.
Grand strategic potential, Mmm? He picked up Hermione's analysis parchment and gave it the once over again. Everything on there was important. Critical even, from a tactical perspective, and no one could argue that tactics weren't mission critical. He put the parchment back down. Daphne made very good points too. The political, symbolic, and experiential aspects couldn't be ignored. They would have to be worked with and around.
He pursed his lips.
Athena… the goddess of strategic warfare. Born of Zeus, king of the gods, and Metis, the goddess of intelligence, craftiness, and deep thought.
He continued staring at the wall for another age before finally standing up, making his way over to the door, and opening it. Hermione, Daphne, and Luna were all sat outside on straight back chairs against the far side corridor wall, looking for all the world like hopefuls for a job interview.
Hermione and Daphne looked up as he closed the door behind him. The sounds of the festival still filtered into the hallway through the thick manor walls.
Harry cleared his throat. "Okay. I've come to a decision."
Hermione looked eager. Daphne looked hopeful. Luna just looked as peaceful as ever. "We're going to build Slytherin Manor on Gairsay Island."
Daphne's eyes flashed disappointment for a moment before her jaw firmed and her eyes steeled in determination. She nodded.
Hermione looked momentarily before quickly turning enthusiastic.
surprised
Luna just continued to look peaceful.
"We're going to have at least one more session with Gringotts to confirm the architectural drawings before Hogwarts starts again. If we think of any more changes, we can add them then."
Daphne stood up. "Would you like me to take our decision to Ragnok? Father came by a little while ago to say he was in the round house drinking them dry." Harry smiled. "Yes. Thank you, Daphne. And we'll need to also get ready for the hunt." He looked out of the window. The sun was now at its low winter apex. "It will surely be starting soon."
John Potter walked over the frosty grass of Greengrass Manor wearing the special riding robes his mother had picked up for him last summer, and which she'd put particular effort this morning into making sure he wore properly, despite his half-hearted protestations that he knew how to do it himself.
He made his way over to the long row of horse boxes, now at the back of the manor, facing onto the vast expanse of Greengrass forest, and walked up to the one box bearing the Potter crest. "You ready, Son?" His dad greeted him at the box gate.
John rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dad, I am ready." "Because I know how it is when it's your first time, you know."
This wasn't his first time.
James Potter nudged him in the ribs. "And you'll even be chasing your old man." "Good. I was just thinking my bedroom could use a set of antlers."
James Potter clutched his chest. "Oh! What a shot!" He grinned.
John gave a tight smile. "Just keep an eye out for Malfoy, yes?" James smiled back. "No one is going to try anything during the hunt, John. They'd be mad to. We don't go around chasing each other, and firing spells willy-nilly, alone in the woods, without precautions."
John nodded.
James wandered off to see to something else.
John unlocked the box, walked over to Sandy, his three year old palomino, put the saddle over her back, and watched all the buckles, straps, and bridle snake their way around and across Sandy's body, neck and head. He shuddered as the serpentine metaphor slithered its way through his brain.
Urgh. Rumours had it that Lord Slytherin was going to be here this year too. Was it any coincidence that Slytherin choose his first hunt to also be his first hunt? Slytherin seemed far to enmeshed in his problems the man was the first difference he'd spotted in the world when he came back. Everything seemed to always come back to him, even, he suspected, his brother. If he could catch Slytherin alone during the hunt… oooo did he have some questions for that man.
"Daphne!" Tracey spluttered.
"Hi, Trace."
"What are you wearing?"
"Riding robes, isn't it obvious?"
"You're going on the hunt?"
Daphne smiled. "Yes."
"Your father is letting you?!" "Well, it's more that my lord suggested it, and father accepted that since I was already betrothed it wasn't up to him to stage-manage my image."
Tracey cast a look into the dark, thorny, overgrown mass of oppressive plant life that made up Greengrass forest. "Rather you than me, Daph."
Lord Slytherin walked through the crowd of the Greengrass winter festival like a prophet parting a badly dressed sea. Everywhere he went, fingers pointed and voices dropped to a hushed whisper.
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