CHAPTER 1
28th June 1996
The trip on the Hogwarts Express back to London was a quiet one for Harry Potter. He spent most of it staring sullenly out the window at the passing landscape, keeping his mouth firmly shut. His 'best friends' Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were sitting with him as usual and kept trying to engage him in conversation but Harry rebuffed them. Happily Ron and Hermione were under the impression Harry was ignoring them because he was too lost in his grief over the recent death of Sirius Black to focus on anything else. In actual fact Harry was keeping quiet because he was afraid that if he spoke to his so-called friends he would just lose his temper and do something to get himself landed in Azkaban. No, for now Harry was sure the best thing to do was stay silent. His lying, back-stabbing 'best friends' would find out what he thought of them and get their comeuppance soon enough. Harry thought back to the day he first discovered that he was being manipulated and that his whole life had been a lie.
(FLASHBACK - 4 Days Earlier...)
Harry had heard that Ron and Hermione were fully recovered from the injuries sustained in the Department of Mysteries and that they were going to be released from the hospital wing today so he went downstairs to meet them. He went under his invisibility cloak, however because there was gossip all over the school about what had happened in the Department of Mysteries. Mostly Harry had spent the last week in seclusion, grieving for his godfather and trying to come to terms with the revelation of the prophecy, but every time he showed his face in public he was subjected to all sorts of stares and whispers. Everybody had a theory about the battle and everybody felt they were entitled to an explanation. Harry, however, didn't want to talk about the battle with anyone who hadn't been there and who didn't already understand hence the reason he'd decided to keep to himself for the rest of the term. With an invisibility cloak in his possession and no classes to attend now exams were over, staying under the radar was easy at the moment but all Harry could do was hope that the furor had died down by the time the new term started in September.
Neville, Ginny and Luna had all been discharged from the hospital wing within hours of the battle. Harry hadn't seen much of them, though. He suspected they were giving him space to grieve for Sirius, all the while maintaining a low profile themselves. Harry wasn't sure if anybody had warned Ron and Hermione about the chaos their adventure had wrought at Hogwarts, however, so after a quiet breakfast courtesy of Dobby in the Room of Requirement, he donned his cloak and headed for the hospital wing. Sneaking inside, Harry was surprised to find Professor Dumbledore, the newly reinstated headmaster, there talking to Ron and Hermione. Harry was about to take off his cloak and announce his presence when he heard what the trio were discussing. He froze in horror.
"So we're agreed?" Professor Dumbledore pushed Ron and Hermione. "You'll have no contact with the Potter boy all summer and then, next term, you'll tell him that after the battle in the Department of Mysteries you've had to reconsider your friendship and have decided it's too dangerous to continue associating with him?"
"Yes, of course, headmaster. Whatever you think is best," Hermione agreed. "Honestly, sir it will be a relief to get away from Potter. How many times has he nearly gotten Ronald and I killed now? Sometimes I wonder whether the money you've been paying us was worth five years of so-called friendship with the world's precious chosen one."
Ron came over and gave Hermione a sweet kiss. "Just remember, darling, that hard earned money is for our future, our family."
Hermione smiled luminously at the red head. "Our family."
"Don't worry Mr Weasley, Ms Granger you'll continue getting paid, even after you drop Potter," Professor Dumbledore promised. "There's plenty of money to go around and I'll still have other jobs for you to do."
"Well, sir, you know that Hermione and I are willing to do whatever is required for the cause," Ron promised. "It'll be perfect getting rid of Potter. Especially after that idiot Black's death and an entire summer getting beaten up by those muggles, he'll be so broken by the abandonment of his 'best friends;' his 'family' that hopefully he'll go ahead and die like the good little martyr we need him to be. Maybe he'll even do himself in, destroying the horcrux in his scar for us. Then as soon as the other soul pieces are tracked and destroyed, you can kill Voldemort, professor, and we can split the Potter fortune as agreed."
"We can only hope, Mr Weasley," Dumbledore said solemnly. "To my utmost regret Potter has proven himself to be remarkably resilient. I expected that his treatment at the hands of the muggles would have crushed his spirit almost entirely but I was wrong. I'm beginning to think that if the boy doesn't take matters into his own hands and end his life soon I'm going to have to find someone else who will end it for him."
By now Harry had a fist in his mouth to stop himself from crying out in horror. He stumbled out of the hospital wing, unable to listen to any more. He didn't want to believe what he'd just heard but why else would Ron, Hermione and the Professor have a conversation like that if they weren't really plotting his death. In shocked disbelief Harry somehow made his way back to the Room of Requirement where he took off his cloak and threw himself down on a sofa. It had been years since Harry had cried. He'd learnt at a young age that tears only made things worse when you lived with Vernon Dursley. Now, though Harry couldn't stop himself. He cried anguished sobs of guilty, grief, loneliness, betrayal and fear. He felt utterly alone in the world. He'd felt alone when Sirius had first died but had consoled himself with the fact that at least he still had his friends. Judging by Ron's mocking tone back in the hospital wing, however, they'd never actually been his friends and Harry really was utterly alone.
Eventually, though Harry's tears dried up. As much as he was loathed to admit it, Dumbledore, the manipulative piece of crap, was right about one thing. Harry was resilient. He'd survived the fiery pits of hell a dozen times before and he would survive this too. Harry's parents and godfather had all died so that he could live and Harry would not waste their sacrifice by letting the betrayal of his so-called friends ruin him.
Harry's mind began to go over everything he'd learnt in the hospital wing, other than the fact Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore apparently wanted him dead. So his scar was something called a horcrux, was it? And there were several more of these horcruxes out there, all of which needed to be destroyed before Voldemort could be killed. Dumbledore seemed to think that Harry needed to die for the horcrux in his scar to be destroyed but surely there was a way to destroy the horcrux without ending Harry's life? Would something like muggle plastic surgery work? He'd never been the most scholastic person but Harry was aware that some serious research was in order. To know how to destroy a horcrux he would first have to find out what a horcrux actually was. Harry resolved himself to spending some considerable time in the library from now on. It was time to get serious.
(END FLASHBACK)
Eventually the Hogwarts Express arrived at Kings Cross. Out on the platform Mrs Weasley pulled Harry into one of her trademark rib-crushing hugs. "We're moving headquarters from Number 12 to the Burrow," she whispered. "We'll have you away from those awful muggles and with us as soon as possible, Harry dear."
'Not likely bitch,' Harry thought bitterly. One of his jobs for the summer would be to establish exactly who he could trust. Harry honestly didn't know whether the rest of the Weasleys were involved in Ron and Hermione's plot with Dumbledore but his gut instinct was that Mrs Weasley smothered her children so much that she, at least, had to be aware of what was going on. Even if, on the off chance, she didn't know Harry would still never forgive her for the horrible way she'd treated Sirius, and under his own roof at that. He couldn't tell anyone what he truly thought yet, though so he pasted a smile on his face and, lying through his teeth, said "I hope so, Mrs Weasley."
The group of Order of the Phoenix members, and associates, made their way off of Platform Nine and Three Quarters, out into the muggle part of the station. Harry sneered inwardly as he watched Hermione meet up with her dentist parents. He wondered whether the two muggles knew what a bitch their daughter really was. "Harry, dear, I don't see your aunt and uncle," Mrs Weasley commented.
Harry scanned the station and found who he was looking for. "That's okay, Mrs Weasley. I can see my ride."
Order members followed Harry over to the tall, dark eyed man with salt and pepper hair. "Harry, please introduce us to your friend," Remus Lupin instructed, not about to let the boy-who-lived go off with a stranger.
"My name is Clifford Cooper and I'm good friends with Vernon and Petunia Dursley," the man inserted himself into the conversation. "I'm going to their home for dinner tonight and volunteered to collect the boy to spare Vernon an unnecessary journey."
"Harry, is this true?" Lupin asked.
Harry nodded. "Oh yes, I've met Mr Cooper a few times before. I wrote to the Dursleys, reminding them what time I needed to be picked up and they replied that Mr Cooper would be here to meet me."
"What a pity," Lupin said. "I was hoping to have a word with your aunt and uncle."
"Well, if young Harry has your contact details I can let Vernon and Petunia know they need to drop you a line," Clifford Cooper offered. "In the meantime, Harry, we ought to be off. We have quite a drive ahead of us and it wouldn't do to be late for your aunt's delicious trifle."
"Bye Harry," Hermione said.
"See ya," Harry grunted, following Cooper out of the station.
As soon as they were out of the Order's line of sight Cooper led Harry into an old service alleyway. "This alley has been warded against non-magicals seeing it and also against security cameras. If you would keep a tight hold on your luggage we can be off."
"I'm ready when you are," Harry said.
One portkey ride later found the pair in a private office at Gringotts. Harry put his luggage out of the way in the corner and sat down just in time to witness Cooper shrink a good two feet and his facial features change from human to that of a goblin named Nagnok VII. He had been manager of Harry's financial affairs since the death of James and Lily's manager about 10 years earlier. Harry thought back to the first time he'd met the goblin.
(FLASHBACK - 3 Days Earlier...)
After trying to make a plan to find out what horcruxes were Harry had then become concerned as he recalled Ron's statement: "after an entire summer getting beaten up by those muggles."
Now it was true that the Dursleys were ghastly people but it had actually been a few years since Vernon had beaten Harry. As long as he got his chores done and stayed out of his uncle's way, these days Vernon just tried to pretend that Harry didn't exist. Fear of people like Hagrid and Sirius and awareness of his nephew's growing control over magic made even the brutish Vernon seek peace rather than war. So what had changed? Harry wondered. Had Dumbledore done something to the Dursleys to make them want to abuse Harry again? Harry wouldn't have thought the old man capable of using memory charms or compulsion charms on muggles but, then again, a few days ago, Harry wouldn't have thought his best friends and the headmaster would be plotting his death, either.
Harry realized that he couldn't go back to Privet Drive this summer. He wasn't even remotely afraid of the Dursleys anymore but if they tried anything these days he'd probably just kill them on instinct. If that happened no doubt the Ministry would gleefully throw him in Azkaban and Dumbledore, who apparently wanted him dead, would probably push for the dementor's kiss. Besides, time away from Privet Drive and the Order would give him time to try and research horcruxes and who, if anybody, he could still trust. To go off on his own, though Harry knew he would need money so he wrote a letter to Gringotts, asking for a full accounting of all his assets. There were only a few days of term left and Harry didn't have time to do business via owl post so he gave Dobby a few galleons and asked him to run some errands. Half an hour later Dobby returned with a message summoning Harry to Gringotts early the following morning.
Dobby popped Harry to the bank at the appointed hour. A goblin came out from behind his desk to greet Harry. "Mr Potter, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Nagnok VII, account manager for the Ancient and Nobel House of Potter."
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," Harry replied. "Although I must confess I had no idea you even existed until I got your reply to my letter last night."
"Something that concerns me deeply," Nagnok said. "We should have met for the first time, at the latest, on your 11th birthday. Albus Dumbledore, however, informed me you were intent on remaining free of responsibility until your 17th birthday and that, in the meantime, he would inform you of what you needed to know."
"Well I assure you that's a complete and utter lie," Harry said. "The old man's never spoken to me about anything unrelated to events taking place at Hogwarts."
"But you understand that you are to be a Lord, the Head of the Ancient and Nobel House of Potter?" Nagnok probed.
"Dobby tried to explain this to me last night but to tell the truth I understood very little of it," Harry admitted.
"Well, probably the most important thing you need to know is that every Ancient Lord has a seat on the Wizengamot and the right to vote in all criminal cases and proposed law changes," Nagnok said. "As Lord Potter, you control a total of 34 votes. You can't actually sit on the Wizengamot or cast your votes until you reach the age of 21 but you can elect someone to cast your votes by proxy until then. Currently your proxy is Albus Dumbledore."
"Well that will have to change," Harry said immediately. "I wouldn't trust the old man if he told me it was wet outside during a thunderstorm."
"To change your proxy you need to be Lord Potter," the goblin informed him. "And to become Lord Potter you need to be of age."
"So I've got to wait over a year until I turn 17," Harry said in disappointment.
"Not necessarily," Nagnok said. "You don't have to be 17 to be considered 'of age' if your legal guardian emancipates you and I have it on good authority that you're going to be emancipated under the terms of your godfather's Last Will and Testament. Even though Lord Black was sent to Azkaban he was never convicted so his position as your legal guardian was never rescinded. Thus he still has the authority to emancipate you."
Harry swallowed hard. Realistically he knew that Sirius was dead and not coming back but it was still hard to hear his godfather being talked about in the past tense. "And when will his will be read?"
"I'll collect you from Kings Cross when the school year ends in a few days," Nagnok declared. "I can have all the arrangements made by then."
"Thank you," Harry said briskly. "I can't say I'm looking forward to it but I'm grateful to you for doing what needs to be done."
(END FLASHBACK)
Nagnok settled behind his desk. "I'm aware that this won't be easy for you, Harry, but are you ready to get down to business?"
Harry nodded grimly. "Bring it on."
The will went just about exactly as Nagnok had warned Harry to expect. Sirius legally emancipated Harry, freeing his godson from the Dursleys and also from the pesky underage magic laws. As he had no children of his own and because he was distantly related to his godson through Dorea Potter née Black, Sirius appointed Harry his heir as the next Lord Black. He did, however, leave Harry a personal letter to read before he decided if he wanted to be Lord Black.
In the letter Sirius explained that he wanted his successor as Head of House to disown all remaining Black relatives and declare the family extinct. Apparently Sirius felt that the family had become too corrupted to ever be redeemed and preferred the name to become lost in the history books than to have his heir fight a battle, that they'd probably loose anyway, to redeem the family. If Harry agreed to be heir, before he declared the House of Black extinct he could merge the assets and Wizengamot votes with the Potter Estate but there was a catch. There was a marriage contract between the Houses of Black and Greengrass. The contract had never been fulfilled because there had never been people of appropriate age and gender from each family to marry. Until now. Basically if Harry wanted his inheritance from his godfather he would have to marry one of the Greengrass daughters. Even declaring the Blacks extinct wouldn't get him out of the contract. Merging the Potter and Black estates would mean the contract getting transferred to the Potter family.
"What would happen if I chose not to accept my inheritance?" Harry asked Nagnok.
"As the only other living, male descendant of the House of Black, Draco Malfoy could reasonably expect to claim the estate," Nagnok said. "And like yourself, he is eligible to fulfill the marriage contract. As the Malfoy heir, young Mr Malfoy is already betrothed to Pansy Parkinson but as Lord Black he could also marry Ms Greengrass. His children with Miss Parkinson would be Malfoys and his children with Miss Greengrass would be Blacks. If, on the off chance, young Malfoy chose not to claim the estate all assets would go to the Ministry and the marriage contract would be declared void."
Harry cynically thought that the Black Estate going to the Ministry would be the best option for the Greengrass girls. After all, what kind of life would they have married to either him or Draco fucking Malfoy. If the contract was voided then they would be free to choose their own future. Unfortunately for them, however, Harry couldn't let that happen. The idea of his godfather's belongings going to either Malfoy or the Ministry made Harry sick to his stomach. "Which of the Greengrass girls would the contract apply to?" he asked Nagnok. "There are two of them, aren't there?"
"The contract would apply to the younger daughter, Astoria Greengrass," Nagnok replied, having already researched this. "She is a year behind you at Hogwarts but, born in November 1980, is actually only a few months younger than yourself. The older daughter, Daphne, is in the same year as you but was declared her father's heir after Lady Greengrass became barren and, thus, is responsible for carrying on the Greengrass name."
"And how would I even go about this?" Harry asked in frustration. "If the contract is over 100 years old the Greengrasses probably don't even know it exists. I can't exactly rock up on their doorstep and announce that I'm here to claim their daughter."
"Obviously not," Nagnok smirked. "As your Gringotts representative first contact with the Greengrass family would come from me. And I think you'll find they are probably well aware of the contract. Marriage contracts have largely fallen out of favor in all but the most hardcore families. The few that still exist tend to be monitored closely by all parties who could potentially be affected."
"Great," Harry said flatly.
Nagnok eyed Harry curiously. "I take it this means you are considering accepting the contract?"
Harry had to admit that he was. He'd always wanted a family of his own but had largely given up on the idea, never expecting to find a woman who would love him, Harry, and not the boy-who-lived. This contract didn't exactly solve that dilemma but, if not love, maybe he and Astoria could at least be friends and raise a happy family together. Harry knew he wasn't perfect but he liked to think that he would be a better choice for a husband than Draco Malfoy. And at least this would mean he'd only have to take one wife. Astoria could be Lady Potter and that was that. None of this polygamy nonsense that would mean Astoria having to share her husband with another woman if she married Malfoy.
"I guess I am," he admitted. Harry knew he was being a bit impulsive but acknowledged that his impulsive decisions tended to work out better than whenever he tried to plan. "Okay. Why the hell not? Let's do this."