HP: I got Transmigrated into the World of Magic

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"Obviously he wouldn't take an Unbreakable Vow, but there are binding contracts, like the Goblet of Fire," Hermione says, thinking out loud. Then she frowns. "I wouldn't know how to make one of those, though."

Before I can stop myself, a bubble of laughter escapes me.

"What?"

"Nothing," I say, biting my lip to suppress a grin. "Just that I would bet my life that you could figure it out if we had a bit more time." Like by the first Hogsmeade weekend of your Fifth Year, perhaps, though I don't know that Lord Greengrass would be terribly intimidated by a curse that writes the word "SNEAK" across his forehead.

She nudges me playfully and blushes. "Don't say that!"

"Okay, then I would bet everything Harry owns." She snorts but doesn't reply, merely maintaining her blush. For a few moments neither of us speak, so before it gets too uncomfortable between us I pull her to me for a quick hug. "I'm going to turn in early. I need to think about what I'm going to say."

She looks like she's going to say something, but she drops her gaze and rests her head on my shoulder for a moment. "Okay, good night, William," she says with a sigh.

I kiss her on the forehead. "Good night, my dearest."

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Having been thrown head first into this adventure seven months ago, it's difficult to believe that this is my first time using any of the three magical transportation methods. 

I've been far too frightened to try Apparition on my own, and similarly I'm afraid to try to make a portkey, though I'm sure traveling side-along or using somebody else's portkey would be fine.

So here I stand, looking at the floo powder with a mixture of dread and curiosity. Can non-wizards use floo powder? I don't see why not, but if the network is affected by my magic I could still end up at the wrong place, or worse, stuck in some sort of limbo.

"Is something wrong, William?" Hermione asks.

"My magic..." I say, not looking back toward her, Harry, and Daphne. Astoria had already gone through.

Silence for a moment. "It will be okay, William," Hermione says softly. "You'll make it okay."

Idly I wonder if she's trying to convince me or herself. Screwing up my supposedly Gryffindor courage, I grab some floo powder and step up to the fire. "Greengrass Manor!"

The flash of green flame precedes an exceedingly uncomfortable tumbling sensation, as if gravity can't decide what direction it's supposed to pull me. 

After a few moments that seemed to drag on forever, gravity suddenly rights itself. My hands shoot out toward the marble floor tiles, and I barely catch myself before I break my nose on them.

"Phew, that was fun," I say wryly, picking myself up off the floor.

"Welcome, Mr. Lerner," Lord Greengrass says, offering me his hand.

I quickly make sure my hands are clean of soot before accepting. "Thank you Lord Greengrass," I say with as much dignity as I can muster with soot-stained robes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you again," his wife says, offering her own shortly after. "We wanted to visit you after the Second Task, but unfortunately we had business to attend to."

"I understand, Lady Greengrass, think nothing of it."

"Was that your first time using the floo?" Astoria asks.

"It was," I say.

Her parents look surprised at that, but any comments are cut off by Hermione stepping out of the fireplace easily.

Hermione quickly introduces herself in quite a formal manner, and I have to wonder if she read about the proper way to greet a Lord and Lady.

The formality of the situation is sort of ruined by Hermione and Astoria hugging and giggling when Harry is the next one to come through, as he also ends up on all fours.

At least he didn't end up on his back.

"Doesn't feel too good on the knees, eh?" I ask with a smile, helping him up.

"Eh, you've got a bit further to fall than I do," he says. I don't mention that I weigh probably sixty pounds more than he does, thanks to his treatment at the hands of his relatives. As he greets the Greengrasses, Daphne comes through and completes our party.

What follows is a tour of the most incredible house I've ever seen. 

Hogwarts is of course significantly larger, but the roughly-hewn, gothic structure of Hogwarts is primitive compared to the white marble floors, elegant wooden-framed archways, enormous framed portraits and tapestries, and unbelievably fancy furniture that I'd be afraid to use at all. 

As if following my thoughts, 

Hermione vanishes the soot from my robes, then turns and does the same for Harry. Eventually we make it back to the formal dining room, where we all sit down for dinner on the expansive table; Lord Greengrass at the head, his wife to his right, then Daphne and Astoria beyond her. 

Harry is on the man's left, followed by Hermione and then me, and all together the seven of us take up less than half the table. I resist the urge to cringe when a pair of House Elves serve us. 

Harry must have had the same thought, since we both glance at Hermione when they appear, but she offers very little outward discomfort.

Unfortunately, Astoria notices what little she did offer. "What's wrong, Hermione?"

"N-nothing..." she says.

"Just a cultural difference between the Muggle and magical world," I say. "The idea that House Elves want or even need to serve wizarding families without any compensation is...quite unexpected."

"What do you mean?" Astoria asks with knitted brows.

"Well, there's nothing remotely like House Elves in the Muggle world, and to us they seem as intelligent as humans, so..." I shrug, letting them finish the thought on their own. 

"Then, when you consider that the first House Elf we meet is so viciously abused by the Malfoys, you can understand why we have such a poor impression of their situation."

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