Disclaimer: I wish I owned the characters. Harry would have relatives who cared for him and Snape would have some closure. Alas, they are not mine. They belong to JKR, Scholastic, WB, etc.

sighs

Feedback is good. Constructive Criticism is excellent. Adoration is always welcomed.

Harry Potter and the Pillars of Truth

Chapter Seven

The forecourt of Medici's sported a glorious Renaissance fountain carved of brilliantly white marble and spilling shining arcs of sweet water. It was easily one of the most beautiful things Harry had ever seen.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, while Ron stood, dumbfounded by the sight.

"That's bloody amazing."

Harry laughed. "It is beautiful. Muggles do the most amazing work, don't they."

"That ain't no Muggle fountain, Harry."

"No, Ron, but…" Hermione wrapped an arm around his waist, "Muggles have built many fountains like it, without magic."

"Wow," said a familiar voice. The three of them turned to find Neville, Ginny, and Luna standing behind them. Ginny was staring at the water, entranced. "You can almost hear it singing."

Luna nodded at Ginny's words, her gaze tracing the shimmering arcs, enraptured. "An endless circle, life, death, rebirth. Creation, destruction, transmutation, ruination, fabrication, disintegration…"

Hermione began singing under her breath.

Harry laughed. "You adding The Lion King to the video's everyone needs to see?"

"The circle of liiiiiife." Hermione's voice was surprisingly sweet. "No. Probably not."

"Wazzat?"

"It's a movie, Ron." Hermione smiled wistfully. "Which includes a song about the 'Circle of Life.' Even when people die, there's always a way to go on. You can keep fighting, even when the bad guy wins."

Ron stared at her, transfixed. Hermione stared at the fountain, unaware of his intent look.

"Potter, party of six," announced a liveried attendant by the great double doors.

"Shall we, then?"

"I suppose we shall." Harry smiled and led the way.

Their usher stared at them.

"I am sorry sir, but this is a fine establishment. Formal wear is required for dining here."

"I am wearing formal attire." Harry smiled pleasantly. "And so are all of my friends."

He gestured to Ginny, who had found a tea-length formal gown that caressed her figure with loving hands. Luna's ice-blue confection looked like it had come out of a fairytale and suited her pale complexion. Hermione, in an ankle-length bronze sheath looked like a goddess, in Harry's opinion, one he knew Ron shared. He and Ron and Neville were all wearing designer tuxedos.

"Mister Potter --" Harry heard the man gulp when Harry 'casually' ran a hand through the fringe of his hair, revealing the scar "-- we are accustomed to normal formal wear."

Hermione snorted quietly. "This is perfectly normal formal wear. Millions of people wear clothes like these to formal functions all over the world."

The man glowered. Ginny grinned, a mischievous pixie-smile that would have terrified the man if he had known her better. "Do you post your rules somewhere?"

"This is a fine establishment, what need do we have of such a thing?"

Harry grinned down at her. They'd become good friends once it became obvious that she really had gotten over her crush on him. "Actually, the reservation confirmation did say that formal wear is expected. I suspect they do that when they get people they're, ummm, not used to making reservations."

Ginny nodded. "That makes sense."

"Still, it didn't say Wizarding formal wear." Harry pulled his reservation card out of his pocket, and scanned it. "No, nothing about it having to be Wizard wear, just a gentle reminder that this is, as he," Harry nodded at the man, "says, a fine establishment and casual clothes are discouraged."

"I see." Ginny turned to the man. "Well, as we aren't violating any of your rules, may we come in? I've heard that your food is excellent and I'm hungry."

He appeared to be at a loss for words as he turned toward the open doors. "This way."

They entered a fairytale realm of polished stone and glittering ice. Chandeliers twinkled above marble mosaics in geometric abstracts. Fluted columns rose to support graceful vaulting and it was all Harry and his friends could do to not stop and stare at the beauty of it. Hermione, who had traveled extensively in the south of France and in Italy, was only slightly less awed than the rest of them.

"So beautiful," she whispered. Her eyes trailed their attendant. "It's a shame to see that such beauty is wasted on one who works here. Look at him, eyes front and never straying to the glories around him."

"Familiarity breeds contempt?"

Hermione nodded. "It's sad, I think. There's so much in the Wizarding world that is close to miraculous, but wizards and witches are blind to the bounty they hoard like misers… just the same way this man is surrounded by exquisite elegance, with breathtaking artistry and does not see it."

"But…" Ron placed a gentle hand at the small of her back, a gentlemanly action that surprised Harry, though Hermione took it in stride. "You keep saying that there's a lot the Muggles do that's just as worthwhile."

These words almost echoed in the silence that greeted their appearance. Elegantly robed witches and wizards turned horrified eyes on their tuxedos and dresses. Harry could see clutches of known Death Eaters and their families dotting the tables and forced himself not to smile, gesturing to the others to follow the man ushering them to a table near the center of the room. His face held an embarrassed flush, as though ashamed to be leading a gaggle of Muggle-dressed teenagers into the room.

Hermione continued as though nothing was wrong. "There are, Ron. The familiarity with the marvels of the Wizarding world had bred a contemptuous kind of superiority. Wizards have been able to do wondrous things for ages while their Muggle brethren have struggled against themselves and nature to move forward."

Neville looked curious. "Aren't we superior?"

Harry laughed, although Hermione only looked amused.

"There's nothing in the Wizarding world that compares to a computer, much less a network of them." Hermione ticked off. "Muggles are much more capable of information storage, retrieval and analysis. Scientific Method never really caught on, here, except in a few disciplines --"

"Like potions." Luna interjected.

"Like potions," Hermione nodded as Ron pulled a chair out for her. She sat down as Harry and Neville did the same. "Arithmancy has some elements of it, as do certain branches of DADA, Transfiguration, and the Dark Arts themselves."

Neville looked confused.

Harry looked at Hermione and the passionate flush that came to her cheeks as she spoke, ignoring the heated glares coming from around the room. "Logic and the search for rational reasons behind things has led non-magical people farther in a shorter amount of time than their wizarding counterparts. It doesn't make them better, but it gives those with that background an edge in some disciplines while it hinders them in others."

"Shut your mouth, you infernal Mudblood bitch."

Hermione turned gracefully in her seat, a brilliant smile blooming on her face as she saw the speaker.

"Draco, darling, I didn't see you there." Her gaze swept around the room. "I'm terribly sorry, all of the inbreeding tends to make purebloods all look the same to me. Present company --" she tilted her head toward Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna "-- excepted, of course, since all of them have functional personalities. Tell me, Draco, what is it like to be born a drone, with no more thought than the other mindless insects buzzing around a pallid hothouse garden?"

"I am hardly a drone." Draco's pale eyes burned with anger.

Hermione considered him. "No, that would require too much work, I'm afraid. I suppose you're more like a mosquito: buzzing around, sucking blood, and waiting for someone to swat you. That's a bit more fitting for a parasite like you."

"How dare you come here and insult --"

"You came up to us, Draco," Harry said mildly. "This is a public restaurant, not a private club."

The look Malfoy gave him should have reduced him to ash. Harry smiled pleasantly. "Do you wish to join our party, Draco? I'm sure that there's another chair around here somewhere."

Ron looked vaguely ill at the idea, although if Ginny's smirk were anything to go by, she thought it would be entertaining.

"I would never break bread with filth like you."

Harry snorted. "Best be careful and never invite Tommy-boy to dinner then, although I wonder if he knows your beliefs about his personal hygiene."

Malfoy spun on his heel and headed for a table in the corner. Harry gave it a considering eye.

"Interesting. Did he want privacy, do you think, or has the Malfoy name been tarnished in some way?"

"A little of both," said Neville. "The Malfoy businesses have been hard hit since Lucius Malfoy was Kissed. Gran says that not everyone thinks that young Malfoy is up to running them with competence since Malfoy senior had not yet begun to really introduce him to his contacts and business partners when he was sent to Azkaban fifth year."

Luna's gaze sharpened unexpectedly. "That's interesting."

"What's that?"

"Look over there --" her eyes flicked toward Malfoy's table, where Professor Snape was glaring at them from the shadows. "It seems that we've caught some interest."

Ginny snickered, which had an odd dissonance with her almost excessively lady-like posture. "Oh, dear. I can just hear it now. 'One thousand points from Gryffindor, Weasley, for appearing in public for any reason what-so-ever.'"

Ron groaned. "You do know that he's going to tell the Headmaster."

Harry shrugged.

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"No. We're here to be seen."

Their waiter arrived, ready to take their orders. Privately, Harry found it rather funny that high-class Wizard establishments would do it the Muggle way when there were charms that would do the same thing. The waiter moved away and moments later their food appeared on their plates, much like at Hogwarts. Harry had to smile at that. Harry unobtrusively cast a comprehensive food-testing charm before they all tucked in -- it wouldn't do for them all to die because some lackey in the kitchens was a follower of Voldemort.

The food was clean and every bit as delicious as reported. They spoke of inconsequential things for the length of the meal, lighthearted conversation that may not have sparkled with the same high-flying pseudo-intellecutallism of the surrounding tables, but shining well enough for their own entertainment. When they were done, Harry pulled a handful of boxes from his pocket. Each was the size of a pea and he handed them out to his friends.

"What's this?" Luna asked as she stared at the tiny thing in her palm.

Ron pulled out his wand and flicked it. "Finite Incantatem."

The pea-sized containers lengthened to reveal themselves as jeweler's boxes.

"Harry, it's your birthday, you're not supposed to be giving presents to everyone else. Well, except for Neville."

Neville laughed. "Thanks for remembering, Hermione."

"I haven't been the best of friends, have I?" Hermione asked, eyes sad. "I've never gotten you a birthday present Neville. Oh! I'm sorry."

Neville reached over and brushed her hand with his. "It's okay, Hermione."

"No, it isn't, you've always been a good friend."

"Even when I'm trying to stop you from losing us House Points?"

"Especially then, Neville," said Harry, quite serious. "Dumbledore is right about many things, you know, and it does take much more strength to defy your friends than it does your enemies." His gaze found Snape's briefly. "It's a courage that most people never find. I've always thought you more than earned those points first year."

Neville blushed.

"How pretty!" Luna opened hers up to find a pendant. On the face of it was an exquisitely detailed pair of ravens that flitted about the limbs of a gently waving tree. "Hunin and Munin! How did you know?"

"It somehow seemed appropriate for a Ravenclaw." Harry grinned. "Turn it over."

"Sto pro iustitia." Luna laughed. "Your Latin --"

"It gets the point across."

Neville opened his, smiling as he found a lion cub playing before an amused looking lion and lioness. He turned it over, "Sto pro iustitia. I stand for justice."

Ginny's revealed a Valkyrie, resplendent in armor. "Sto pro iustitia."

Ron opened his, laughing as he found a valiant knight fighting a dragon. He grinned at Harry. "Sto pro iustitia."

Hermione stared at hers for a moment and Harry wondered if the image he'd chosen pleased her or not. Unlike the others, hers did not move and had a Muggle meaning that the others (with the possible exception of Luna) probably were not aware of. It wasn't even a British symbol, but to him it represented Hermione's struggle with the Wizarding world.

She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes.

"Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name,
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

"Huh?"

Hermione laughed. "Oh, Ron! It's the inscription on the American Statue of Liberty."

"What's that?"

Harry had to resist the urge to bang his head on the table.

"You like it then?" asked Luna. Hermione nodded, revealing the graven image of the statue.

"Sto pro iustitia." Hermione murmured. "I stand for what is right and what is just. I stand with Harry Potter."

0

Severus Snape wondered, as he watched Harry Potter and his oddly dressed friends enter Medici's, if his day could possibly get any worse. Starting the day by seeing the boy wonder flitting about unprotected in Diagon Alley was bad enough without Voldemort's planning session and continued exhibition of his profound displeasure with the defeat of the Death Eaters at Hogsmeade. Worse still, Malfoy junior had come to the meeting, alerted to it by his mother, Narcissa, and had haltingly told the tale of Hermione Granger's challenge to the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore would have to be alerted to the girl's statement that he could kiss her lily-white arse. Snape was unsure if Dumbledore would be amused or horrified by that statement.

The Dark Lord's rage that a Muggleborn would speak so of him had earned the messenger a full minute beneath the Cruciatius and immediate planning began to punish Granger for her presumption. Various suggestions from the cruel to the obscene had made the rounds until the Dark Lord put a stop to it, telling Draco to pick those of the Dark Lord's followers he believed could be of help and get his revenge.

They had adjourned to Medici's for the fine food and discreet atmosphere. Draco's money commanded entrance but it was clear that the recent smears on the family name accorded his party a less fashionable table than Draco was used to.

"… keep saying that there's a lot the Muggles do that's just as worthwhile." The words were not loud, but they reverberated through the room. Snape almost sighed. Could Weasley be any more stupid? He tuned out Granger's lecture on the subject only to see Draco become pale with twin flags of color on his cheeks.

"How dare they? This place has always been kept clean of Mudblood scum. Can you believe that they've even let them in wearing those rags?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. Muggle the clothes might have been, but they absolutely reeked money.

"Reservations only require formal wear, Draco."

"Are you defending them?" the young man challenged, eyes hot.

"Of course not. Just pointing out the entertaining stupidity of assuming that Muggle formal wear would be acceptable. Look there, isn't that Griselda Groomer, the fashion consultant for Witch Weekly?"

Others at the table laughed, realizing that Granger and the others would undoubtedly be humiliated in the paper the next day.

"She's expounding on the value of Muggles. In public."

"Not surprising, given her background."

Draco pushed away from the table. "This is not to be borne. I will not be insulted like this."

The boy stalked off.

"This'll be fun," said Rudolphus LeStrange, and Snape smiled cruelly in return, although for different reasons. "Young Malfoy will have her in tears --"

"…all of the inbreeding tends to make purebloods all look the same to me." Granger's voice drifted over the air with honeyed sweetness. LeStrange choked.

"How dare she?"

Snape looked at him. "Don't you have better lines than a pubescent boy?"

His companion snarled.

"Now, now."

"You're enjoying this too much, Snape."

"The day that snot-nosed infants engaged in a battle of wits when both sides are lacking isn't funny, I'll snog a Dementor," Snape replied. "Lucius would have had her on her knees, begging for mercy. Draco is such a pissant piker, one wonders what sub-human monstrosity she was bedding to produce him. Of course, her bloodline produced Sirius Black, the blood traitor, so it's probably just a weakness in the line. It's a shame to see the Malfoy bloodline brought so low."

LeStrange nodded, watching Draco's ignominious retreat with jaded eyes. "You're right. It's probably why she has become so bold, with only the likes of young Malfoy to fear."

"Bitch. Mudblood whore." Draco stomped to his seat and Snape looked up to see Potter's little group studying them.

"Draco, you are the worst of fools," Snape sneered. The young man's head snapped up. "You have brought us to their attention -- no, do not look, idiot boy! Do you really think that Potter will not see us together and become suspicious? Faugh! Better that we plan for Granger's comeuppance later."

"Damnation, Potter is looking again --" said LeStrange. "I cannot afford to be spotted by one of Dumbledore's lackeys, not with you. Have you no sense?"

"Medici's has always been safe enough, cousin," Malfoy snapped. "How was I to know that Potter and his little clique would be here?"

"Better that we had gone to the Manor --"

"-- which is crawling with Aurors. It is you who are the fool."

"Be careful what you say to me, boy. Bellatrix is most eager to meet you, you know. She's always had a thing for blonds."

"I'm not afraid of Aunt Bellatrix."

Snape barely suppressed a shudder. Rudolphus smiled.

"Then you truly are a fool, boy."

0

Hermione's words filled the table with solemn silence for about a minute before she laughed, breaking the tension.

"So, aside from clever little commentaries on us, what are they?"

Harry looked serious. "Good luck and protection charms, mostly, and a representation of a vow that most of us have taken --"

They all looked at Ginny.

Ginny smirked. "You don't think I'm too young to join you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Ginny, really."

"Fawkes' friends have to be seventeen." Ginny's smile was bitter. "I didn't understand so well why you were angry, Harry, until the Department of Mysteries, and now, the Battle of Hogsmeade. Whether they want us to or not, we're fighting this war and…"

Harry brushed her hand. "It's okay, Ginny. I understand."

"I know you do." Ginny's eyes rested on Hermione. "What made you see?"

"My parents."

Ginny looked confused.

"I'm not officially seventeen until September."

"So that's why --"

"Yes." Hermione nodded, because there were some things they did not want to talk about in public, especially not with Death Eaters in the room. "I feel handicapped by the label of child. The Headmaster wants us to be kids, and I can appreciate that, but there isn't time for it. If I am a child today, I'll be one tomorrow. Seventeen isn't some kind of magical number where suddenly you can take care of yourself or are competent to fight."

Neville nodded his agreement with that, along with Luna. "Age helps, though."

"Yeah. But doesn't that mean we should be guided instead of being packed in cotton wool?" asked Ron. "We're never out of it, be it choice or fate. Shielding us puts us in greater danger."

Ginny nodded.

"So." Harry looked a bit sheepish. "Do you stand with me?"

Ginny's eyes grew wide and she looked at Hermione. "I stand for what is right and just. I stand with Harry Potter."

For a moment all of the baubles gleamed, pale golden light moving from them into their holders.

"Oh!" Hermione shuddered lightly, goosebumps rising over her arms.

"Now you can always get to my safe place, without me there to open the Wards." Harry grinned. "I know that you two can't Apparate yet, but you're keyed."

"Isn't that dangerous if we're captured?"

"Once you put that on, you won't be able to take it off, unless you are willingly abandoning me and my cause. If you are, the magic will fade to nothing. The wards are set so that if you're being coerced in any way, including the Imperious, you won't be able to enter and they'll block all tracking spells."

Hermione nodded. "That must have taken a lot of work."

"The set up wasn't so bad, although the nested charms were a right bitch. The horror of it was when I completed them this morning."

Hermione stared at him. "Oh, dear."

"Oh, dear?" Ron looked faintly murderous. "Next time you want to do that much spellwork, Harry, I want you to make sure you've an anchor and a source."

"Next time? I should hope I've no need of one."

"There is that." Ron laughed. "That said, anyone for dessert?"

They pelted him with their napkins.

----

Author's Note:

The poem, of course, is The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus.

Some, I expect, would disagree with using what is, of course, a notoriously American symbol for Hermione. And they'd be right if they're looking at it from that point of view. I can't claim to know how anyone else views Lady Liberty, but to me she is everything that is bright about my country. She represents freedom in a visceral way that I think that Harry would be able to appreciate.

Hermione takes unpopular stands in regards to what she thinks is just or right or fair, despite derision and ridicule. She is the mighty woman with the torch, a beacon of light. Hermione is the first character in any of the novels to recognize that there is something inherently wrong in a society that employs a slave race and she opposes it with all of her juvenile might. Her fervor and desire to get the elves to rise up is, admittedly, a little ridiculous. Dobby is obviously an exception to the rule of desired servitude that other house elves show. Hermione would do better crusading to change laws so House Elves must have better treatment (for example, punishing themselves for trivial offenses or being turned out for things they themselves had no control over), in my opinion. Still, her desire to do what is right and what is just in the face of overwhelming indifference or opposition is remarkable.

I think this epitomizes some of the symbolism of the statue: freedom for the oppressed, the undervalued, and the unwanted. So it is that I have Harry honoring Hermione with Lady Liberty for those traits he sees in her.