A/N: As usual, I own nothing. Standard fanfiction disclaimer. My thanks to Ms. Rowling for letting us play in her world.
This is an exercise in POV. Shameless Draco bashing? Yep. But satisfying.
Black Family Business
Draco marched into the main lobby of Gringotts, his mother a pace behind and to his left, where she belonged. She may be his mother, but he was in charge now. His anger at being summoned by the goblins was barely offset by the thought that finally he would be getting his due by being named the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. The Malfoy name might be salvageable, but it would take years. Damn his father for openly following and bowing to that insane half-blood. A true Malfoy bowed to no one.
He and his mother, however, had been found innocent, as was their right. It may have taken several meetings between his mother and some of the more… like-minded Wizengamot members, but in the end they did the proper thing. Even with their acquittal, his father's guilt had tainted the Malfoy name, at least in the current environment. But the wealth and power that would come from the Black estate would go a long way to restore the deference they deserved, and if it didn't, he would just take up the mantle of Black.
He smiled to himself. He couldn't lose. The Black family had a glorious and powerful history in Pureblood circles, now being one of the few remaining Sacred Twenty-eight. Half the newly extinguished families' wealth would revert back to the Blacks, amplifying the power greatly. On the other hand, the last surviving member, that fool Sirius, had died fighting against the Dark Lord, and now Draco would become the Heir to that legacy as well. No matter the situation or conversation, Draco could turn it to his advantage.
Voldemort had been the one true obstacle in the Malfoy rise to greatness, the only thing that Draco truly feared. He did allow himself to enjoy the irony that he had been removed by the other annoying half-blood in Draco's life. But Potter? Ignorant muggle lover. Goblins? Pfft. Rule mongering vermin. The Wizengamot? Allies or toys. The Ministry? Puppets. Sometimes difficult, sometimes expensive, but puppets always. He had watched his father pull their strings, making them dance, for his whole life, and very soon it would be his turn.
The Dark Lord's resurrection had put a severe damper on the Malfoy's nearly completed plan to control all of magical Britain, but now he was less than dust, and it was time rise again. Stupid son-of-a-muggle. If he had just followed Lucius' advice they would be ruling the world today. But now, Draco was of age, his father was soon to pass through the Veil, leaving him Head of the Malfoys, and now he was to be named Heir of the Blacks. The thought of becoming Head of two families in less than a week had him nearly quivering with joy.
He marched up to the front of the line of the nearest teller, elbowing out the customer already there. He flipped open the letter and dropped it on the goblin's desk, interrupting his work. "I am Draco Malfoy, Heir Malfoy, and I have a meeting with Gornuk regarding Black Family Business."
The teller scowled as the parchment landed in his workspace, scattering coins and causing his quill to smear ink over his ledger. But then he looked up and recognised the young wizard in front of him, just as he announced his name. He smiled, and even showed his teeth.
"Ah, of course. Welcome, Heir Malfoy. We've been expecting you." He turned and waved, and another goblin hurried over.
"Please escort Heir Malfoy and Madam Malfoy to Account Manager Gornuk's office. He is awaiting their arrival."
The young goblin bowed. "This way, please." He led them around and behind the teller's desks, and then through a door into the depths of Grigott's.
Draco smiled to himself again. This was more like it. He couldn't lose.
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The teller picked up the parchment on his desk delicately between a long forefinger and thumb, and looked for a bin to dump it in. He paused, then smiled, showing his teeth again. He folded the parchment carefully and slid it into one of the small cubbies on his desk. It might not be rubbish after all. In fact, it might be framed and on someone's wall by the end of the day. He restacked the coins on his desk and turned his attention back to his customer.
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Narcissa followed her son into Gringotts, a step back and to the left as decorum dictated. He was of age, and within a week would most likely be Head of House. She was cautiously optimistic that today could be the start of the long slow recovery to respectability and power, either once again as a Malfoy or as part of her family of origin, the Blacks. Or even both. She had drilled the family tree and politics into Draco from a young age, as well as the customs of Gringotts hospitality. She hoped he could manage to keep his temper through the meeting. Goblins were lesser beings, true, but they held the money, and there was a vast difference between them begrudgingly complying with your demands and actively helping manage your estate.
And their estate truly was in jeopardy at the moment. Lucius' outcome was a foregone conclusion, but there had been hope for his line. It took a substantial amount of their liquid assets in bribes to keep her and Draco alive and out of Azkaban. Fined heavily, thus reducing their wealth further, but free. It was a close thing, as there were fewer left that could be… made sympathetic. If Potter's testimony hadn't surprisingly (but honestly, she grudgingly admitted) supplied facts in their favour, it would have taken all their gold and required the sale of much of their belongings as well.
She paused to automatically scan the room for the shortest line, so was almost taken by surprise when Draco kept walking straight up to the counter of the nearest teller. She kept herself from frowning at his brusqueness. Not that there wasn't anything wrong with it, but it was unnecessary, and in public. Far better to show a polite face while imagining their entrails spilling out onto the floor, then someday actually gutting them and delivering their corpse as a message. There was power, and then there was the proper application of power. She could see that Draco would need further lessons.
She was pleasantly surprised at the goblin's pleasant and immediate response, but then unnerved at his smile. It wasn't usually a good thing when a goblin showed their teeth, but maybe he was trying to be polite and hoping for future incentives for better service. Greedy creatures. She quickly committed his name off the nameplate to memory. Perhaps he could be useful.
With a small sense of relief, she followed Draco and the goblin deeper into Gringotts. She maintained her cautious optimism about the disposition of the Black Estate.
The goblin led them down several hallways before stopping at an ornate set of deep green double doors. He knocked sharply, and a voice answered in Gobbledegook. The doors opened, and the goblin showed them in.
"Account Manager Gornuk, I bring you Heir Malfoy and Madam Malfoy."
Account Manager Gornuk rose from his desk to greet them as the doors closed behind them. Just as Narcissa was registering the presence of other people in the room, Account Manager Gornuk was interrupted by a loud "What are those two doing here?" from Draco.
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Draco followed the goblin down the passageways. Vermin. Like rats in their holes. He fingered the handle of his wand. It was customary for wizards not to draw their wands in Gringotts, a custom he looked forward to changing soon. There were rumours goblins were somewhat resistant to the cruciatus, and he was itching to be able to prove them wrong. He pulled his hand from his wand. Unfortunately, not today. But once he had the Malfoy and Black estates firmly in hand, and was installed on the Wizengamot….
The little troglodyte knocked on a closed set of doors. Draco fumed. They should have been open and waiting for him. A voice responded in the base language they used. Really, why did they have to deal with goblins at all? Banish them all from Britain, or kill them. The gold of wizards should be handled by wizards, not these beasts.
At last they were shown in to see Gornuk. Draco scanned the office. Gornuk was behind an ornate and polished wooden desk just ahead, and only now coming to his feet. The slight would not go unremarked. Bookshelves lined the wall to the right. To the left was a low table with several comfortable chairs around it. In the centre of the table was a small brazier of rocks, spelled a deep glowing orange to provide warmth to the room, and in the chairs the two people Draco hated above all others. Bloody Potter and his pet mudblood Granger.
He wouldn't have controlled himself if he was able. He again grabbed the handle of his wand. "What are those two doing here?"
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It took years of training for Narcissa to limit herself to a hissed "Draco…" She registered many things at once. Harry Potter sat behind a low table, in robes that appeared to be made of the finest acromantula silk. Next to him sat Hermione Granger, in similar robes, a quill and stack of parchment in her hands, apparently making a check mark on the top sheet. The unmistakable sound of metal sliding over leather came from behind her, and she didn't need to turn to know there was a goblin on each side of the doors that they had just come through, now crouched with swords half drawn from their scabbards. If Draco didn't control himself, this may be the shortest meeting she had ever attended.
Old, nearly forgotten but carefully stored facts and recent rumours clicked together in her mind. Sirius being named Mr. Potter's godfather. His unprecedented escape from Azkaban to see his godson, and death fighting to protect him. The unconscionable delay of the goblins in settling the Black estate. It appeared there had been no delay at all, and that 'Black Family business' meant something else entirely.
She did all that she could and must do as required by custom, and gave a small curtsey, before standing quietly, hands folded in front of her and head slightly bowed. She saw Ms. Granger make another small notation on her parchment before she and Mr. Potter stood, Mr. Potter giving her the barest of nods. She could now see the faint pattern of the Black crest woven into the robes themselves over the left breast. It was true, then. She had been through many life-threatening and world-altering days in her life, too many really. Today looked to be the worst.
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Draco whirled to glare at his mother for daring to attempt to reprimand him in front of others, especially these others. He was brought up short by the sight of the goblin guards ready to attack, and again cursed the customs preventing him from drawing his wand. He was further surprised by the deferential behaviour of his mother towards Potter, of all people. Fine. If he had to follow the rules of comportment, then he would. For today. He visibly took a deep breath and calmed himself. Ignoring the two on his left, he turned to Gornuk and gave a shallow bow and grit his teeth.
"Account Manager Gornuk, excuse my outburst. Thank you for receiving us."
Account Manger Gornuk came around his desk. "Of course, Heir Malfoy. These are, of course, trying times still." He indicated the seats to his right. "Please, be seated."
Draco sat, his mother sitting primly to his right, the goblin near his desk. He continued to ignore to two now sitting again on his left. He still couldn't fathom why they were here at all, other than to torment him. Nosy Potter, interfering where he wasn't wanted yet again, and the mudblood shouldn't even be allowed in the bank, much less the room. His first act as Heir would be to have them thrown out. Minus their heads if he could arrange it. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the guards sheath their weapons and stand at attention again.
"Thank you, Account Manager Gornuk. Your missive mentioned Black Family business?" The only redeeming feature of goblins was their preference to avoid small talk.
"Yes, Heir Malfoy. We are happy to host members of the Black Family for their business. Even now, the Ministry can still be… indiscreet."
Draco was baffled. This was not the language that preceded a will reading, but rather the language of Gringotts providing a neutral ground, with legal documentation if needed. They were summoned as members of the Black Family, but he and his mother were the only… remaining… Blacks. NO! His head whipped around to stare at Harry.
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"Greetings, cousin," said Harry.
Draco merely nodded. The link was remote, but there nonetheless. Why Dorea Black was allowed to live once she started consorting with a Potter….
"As Head of House, I thought it prudent to meet with the few remaining Blacks. Recent years have been hard on the old families."
Draco seethed. For Harry clueless bloody muggle-raised son-of-a-mudblood Potter to claim Head of House, then even speak of the Noble Families…. It was almost more than he could take. If Potter had just died one of the numerous times he was supposed to, the 'old families' would be alive and running things like they should. "I dispute your claim to Head of House. I am in direct line through my mother. Even Weasel and the Squib have better claims than you."
"Ah, yes. Dorea. A tangled mess, the Black family tree. But I didn't claim Head of House, it was foisted on me by Sirius in his will."
"Sirius was disowned. He couldn't pass Head of House on to you."
"By his mother Walburga, in a fit of pique, yes. Blasted a hole in the tapestry even. But not by his father Orion. Seems the Black males tended to die young, he apparently didn't feel he could waste a possible heir. And as his was the only vote that counted…."
Gornuk added, "The will was read, the estate settled, months ago. It was accepted by both Gringotts and the Ministry. Mr. Potter's status as Head of House is unassailable."
Draco struggled to wrap his mind around the changes. Fine. Potter was head of House. One more tiny obstacle. Enough people hated him that his death would not be surprising.
Potter interrupted his thoughts. "Apparently succession is a big deal in a Noble and Most Ancient House. So the first thing I did was write a will, outlining my heirs. Rest assured, Draco, you're not on the list."
Draco flicked his eyes at Granger, sitting attentively with her quill. Potter caught it.
"Ah, no. Ms. Granger is not in line. She has however agreed to be the steward for Houses Black and Potter. Killing her won't help you either."
Draco didn't even pretend to be offended by Potter's crassness of acknowledging such things out loud, and just ground his jaws together harder. Could his day get any worse? The mudblood was running two families. "I fail to see why I'm here, then. It would appear there is no Black Family business left to discuss."
Harry stared at him for a long moment. "For you, perhaps, perhaps not. For Narcissa, however…."
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Harry turned to her. "Greetings, cousin."
"Greetings, Mr. Potter. How may I serve the House of Black today?"
Harry nodded in approval at the formal language. "Your marriage to the House of Malfoy is soon to end with the death of your husband, and Draco will take up the reins. It is possible that you would have a choice, either to remain a widow and member of the House of Malfoy, to continue the bonds of support and alliance your marriage provided, or be taken back into the House of Black."
Narcissa felt a great sense of relief, but kept her face neutral. Potter was willing to negotiate, and acknowledged the alliance between their houses. "I would be interested in hearing your thoughts, Mr. Potter."
Draco turned to her in shock. "How could you even consider this, mother?"
"It is prudent to consider all things at all times, Draco." Internally, her mind was racing, down two different paths. First was what? What had he been able to learn in his brief time as Head of House? What was he planning? What did he think he could gain? And what could he offer to persuade her, one way or the other? Second was why? Why now? Why meet with them at all, now or later? What could he do, and out of that what would he do?
"Wise words, cousin." She wasn't sure if that was directed at her or Draco. "It's really your choice. Do you wish to be the widow Malfoy, or have your marriage dissolved and become a Black once again?"
Narcissa's thoughts screeched to a halt at the word 'dissolved,' her sense of relief evaporating. The marriage contract. She struggled to remember the specific details. Her father Cygnus was a Pureblood through and through, and an ardent supporter of Voldemort's goals, but he never took the Mark. Utmost among the Pureblood ideals he championed was family first. Supporting Voldemort was one thing, marking yourself as a servant, especially to someone not of a Noble and Most Ancient House, another thing entirely.
Her mind started racing again. The dowry… and the penalties… He could beggar the now diminished Malfoy line with the stroke of a pen. That was why he was meeting with them now, before she was widowed. As Head of House, he had complete control as long as she still was married. But he was apparently giving her the choice. Why? Her goals shifted rapidly, what could she salvage, and how could she save her son?
She met Potter's eyes. He knew she was aware of her tenuous position. "I see. And what would you have me do as a Black? Scrub floors for thirty years in penance?"
Harry laughed. "There are elves for that, and I don't think you have the necessary skills."
Narcissa allowed herself to raise an eyebrow.
Harry laughed again before becoming serious. "You possess a wealth of knowledge about the heritage and traditions of Magical Britain. You're also one of the few left with that knowledge, and hopefully young enough to cope with the changes that are coming. If the changes are too sweeping, we may end up adrift for decades before we redevelop our culture. If the changes are too small, we'll continue to lose most of our best and brightest to other countries. If we don't manage the change well, the war we just fought will continue on at a low level until there's no one left. I have an excellent steward, but I will need a coach and a social secretary. A cultural attaché, perhaps."
Narcissa stared at Harry, thinking hard. Some of that she could do, as she had done it for years. And to be realistic, at this point in time it was change or die. No matter the rumblings of a few disgruntled survivors, the Pureblood movement was broken, and broken for good. The new power sat before her, and already had plans to gather and consolidate more. To lift something from the ashes, while again becoming part of the elite, was something she could do. Frankly, the last twenty years had left her disillusioned and weary. This seemed challenging without the constant risk of death. It would preserve the House of Black, and possibly Malfoy. And most importantly, one Narcissa Malfoy nee Black.
She glanced at Draco. Could he see the opportunity here, the surest and safest way to reclaiming their stature, and more importantly survival? Could he also see the simultaneous risk, the iron fist in the silk glove? Would he ally or join with the new House of Black, or persist in his now obviously doomed attempts to take it over? Would he let himself be saved, or would his pride condemn him? Would he recognise that what she did was for the best of the family?
"May I speak with my son?"
"Of course, Narcissa."
She turned to him calmly, trying to impress upon him the importance of thinking this through. Their entire future hinged on this conversation, this decision. She had trained him in the ways of his families for years for just this type of situation. "Draco—"
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Draco listened to the drivel falling from Potter's mouth with increasing anger, and viewed his mother's calm consideration with equally increasing horror. A mudblood and a half-blood tainting one of the greatest families in all of Britain. And suggesting an alliance with House Malfoy? He would never abide such things. He would make it his life's work to destroy Potter and whoever his heirs may be. If he couldn't be Head of House Black, then House Black would cease to be by his hand.
His mother turned to him, and stared him in the eyes. "Draco—"
He cut her off. "Do not say another word, mother. I forbid it."
Narcissa drew herself up. "You are not yet Head of House, Draco, and cannot forbid me anything. You would be wise to remember your lessons. Mr. Potter—"
She was chastising him again in front of these inferiors. "Has no right to offer me anything. He is not worthy to be Head of House, proving it by making that his steward. He shouldn't be asking for anything except my sparing his life. The proper thing to do is cut all ties and renounce him as publicly and quickly as possible."
"Draco, you must consider—"
Draco surged to his feet, towering over his mother, hand drifting to his wand again, half-pulling it from its sheath. How dare she suggest such treasonous things. "I must consider nothing that half-blood freak says or does, unless—"
Draco's continuing outburst made him miss the hiss of steel. His first awareness of the goblins' swords was the pressure of one blade across his throat and the prick of the point of the second at the base of his skull, flexing his neck into the first. He instantly fell silent, and very, very slowly moved his hand off the handle of his wand, feeling the swords increase in pressure as he did so. He froze completely. He started to apologise, but even more pressure cut him off.
Granger and Potter shared a glance, and he nodded. She then had the gall to address him. "Draco, being new to Pureblood culture, it is difficult for me to know for sure how many rules you just violated, both against a Noble and Most Ancient House and Gringotts hospitality. I do know that several of them allow even me as the lowly steward to instruct the guards to complete the removal of your head without needing to consult with my Head of House."
Gornuk added, "While Goblins do not interfere in the affairs of Wizards, we do guarantee them. We provide hospitality according to centuries of tradition, and the rules of hospitality are the bedrock of relations between the Houses. Without the protection that we provide, you would have killed yourselves off generations ago. You need only to look at the devastation Riddle has caused. More Pureblood families are extinct, on either side, by his own hand than by those fighting him. He may have despised us, and killed us on sight, but you will note that he never dared do business with or through us."
Potter spoke. "Are you willing to follow the rules that you supposedly hold so dear, or shall I have you ejected?"
Draco felt the pressure of the swords lessen slightly. Damn the goblins. Damn Potter. Damn his traitorous mother. Damn them all. "I will abide by the rules of hospitality." The swords retreated.
Draco stood tall, twisting his neck and straightening his robes. "I am first, last, and always a Malfoy. I reject your offer of alliance, or of any possibility of joining House Black. I will watch the fall of House Black with great satisfaction."
He turned to his mother. "I will be Head of House Malfoy within the week. If you do not renounce Potter's offer and leave with me immediately, I will cast you out the moment it's possible."
"Draco—"
"Do not, mother. They are a stain on the Pureblood way. You debase yourself even talking with them."
Narcissa forced all expression from her face, and folded her hands together again on her lap, but inside she was wailing with grief. He was damning himself to nameless poverty, and she couldn't stop him. Her sense of failure in and for her son threatened to overwhelm her. She said nothing.
Draco scowled at her immobility. "Goodby then, mother. Do not bother returning home."
He bowed ever so slightly to Gornuk. "Account Manager Gornuk, I thank you for your hospitality. I find that my business with House Black is concluded."
He turned and approached the doors. Gornuk raised a finger, and the guards opened them.
The escort was ready and waiting. "This way, Heir Malfoy."
Draco followed him out without a look back.
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Harry broke the silence. "On with the rest of the business, I guess."
Hermione pulled out a parchment from the middle of her stack. From its obvious age and the seals still attached, Narcissa recognised it as one of the original copies of her marriage contract. Hermione ran her fingers along the text.
"Your dowry of one-and-a-half million galleons was unheard of, a record that has not been matched to this day. A dowry is of course to represent the value of the bride, and the relative social standing of the families involved. The obvious subtext is that it elevated the prestige of both the Black and Malfoy families immensely, as no one else could afford it, nor expect to receive such an amount. In reality, it was of course just a way for the Black family to fund Riddle under the veneer of respectability. It kept them safe from any prosecution or even investigation from the Ministry, and deep in the good graces of Riddle and his ilk."
"More importantly to us here today, it is more than the Malfoy estate, including the actual estate, is currently worth, and one of the many penalty clauses demands its return with the dissolution of the marriage if done with cause. As Riddle, and his very clearly marked agents including both Lucius and Draco, killed the previous Head of House Black, and directly assaulted his Heir and current Head, cause is very easily demonstrated."
She handed the marriage contract to Gornuk. A few words in Gobledegook caused it to briefly glow blue. "Gringotts recognises this as the Black Family copy of the marriage contract between Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy. Gringotts also affirms that penalty clauses seventeen, eighteen and nineteen, as well as section three of clause twenty-two were clearly violated by Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and Tom Riddle, as established by trials held by the Ministry of Magic."
Gornuk looked up at Harry. "Gringotts also notes that clauses eighteen and nineteen were clearly violated by Narcissa Malfoy, as established by her trial at the Ministry of Magic. What House Black does with that knowledge, is of course up to you."
Narcissa swallowed against the sudden dryness and tightening in her throat. Longstanding Pureblood tradition, which was codified into law, allowed Harry to simply kill her where she sat. The Ministry itself had determined she was in violation of a Black Family contract, and her cause of death would simply be listed as such. Contracts just a generation older would have had her own magic kill her at the time of the violation.
"What would you have me do, Mr. Potter?"
"I would have you choose, Narcissa. Remain a Malfoy, while you still can, or return to the Black Family."
His indifference was almost as frightening as the power he held over her via the contract. She may have value to him, but it was evidently tiny. Whether she survived, was made destitute, or killed in punishment, it apparently didn't matter. Coupled with her abandonment by Draco, her obvious failure in teaching him the subtleties of family politics, and the pending death of her husband, she was truly at the lowest point in her life. It was even worse than waiting in the Ministry holding cells before her trial. At least then she felt she had some control.
She took a steadying breath, and her training reasserted itself. If this was her lot, this was her lot. What mattered was what she did with it. It may not be much of a choice, and all of her options may be horrid, but at least it was her choice. She looked up at Mr. Potter in surprise. He was at least giving her that, and he didn't have to. She nodded in thanks.
"I would return to the Black Family, Mr. Potter."
"Excellent. Hermione?"
Ms. Granger pulled another parchment from her stack. "Narcissa Malfoy nee Black agrees to the dissolution of her marriage, and will again take the name of Black. She agrees that she was in violation of clauses eighteen and nineteen of her marriage contract. She agrees to punishment for said violations to be determined at some future date. In exchange, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black will be brought back under the membership and protection of House Black." She slid the parchment across the table.
Narcissa read through the contract carefully. In any other situation, the open-ended nature of her punishment would be unacceptable, but she really didn't have anything to bargain with, and her other options were destitution or death. She took the quill offered by Gornuk and signed. Gornuk took the parchment and applied the Gringotts stamps and wax seals, making it official.
Ms. Granger pulled yet another parchment out. Narcissa was unwillingly impressed by their preparation. "House Black dissolves the marriage of Narcissa Black to Lucius Malfoy, for cause. The dowry is recalled, as according to the penalty clauses of the marriage contract, including seizure of belongings and properties as required."
"It shall be done, Ms. Granger. The Malfoy accounts are not sufficient to cover the debt. I will let the Ministry know that we will begin eviction proceedings in the near future."
"A day or two before Lucius' execution, perhaps?"
"Of course."
"For your efforts, and the affront suffered today, ten percent of the value recouped is to be divided equally between Gringotts and the Black Family Account Manager." She handed the parchment to Gornuk.
Gornuk bowed low over it. "You are too kind, Ms. Granger."
"Thank you, Account Manager Gornuk," said Harry. "I believe that concludes Black Family business for today."
He turned to Narcissa. "Unless there any other business you would like to discuss?"
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Narcissa looked long at Harry. "May I speak plainly?"
"Of course, Narcissa. You are family."
"Was this your plan all along?"
Ms. Granger spoke instead. "Our only plan was simply to give him, like you, a choice. Ally with House Black, or join it. If he joined, he could have been a valued member, enjoying the wealth and prestige of House Black, or be cast out, nameless and Houseless. He chose not to join. He could have continued our alliance, and worked to restore both the Black and Malfoy names, but he chose not to be our ally, so instead we will reclaim the dowry and sever all ties, leaving him with House and name, but penniless. The outcome was always up to him. The same for you."
Narcissa nodded, mostly to herself. Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger had learned more about family politics and Pureblood ways in the last several weeks than her son had in his whole life. They also clearly understood power, and it's proper application. They got everything they wanted by letting her and Draco choose their own fates. No matter what they chose, House Black would gain. The thinly veiled threat of being cast out was not lost on her either. In contrast, Draco casting her out would actually improve her situation.
She marvelled at the twists of fate that put Potter in complete control over her and one of the last and greatest magical Families in Britain. Basically handed to him by Riddle and her husband. And she sensed that he would do greater things with it than either they or her son would have. She nodded again, this time in acknowledgment of Mr. Potter's victory.
He nodded back. "If you wish, you may stay at Grimmauld Place. Parts of it will be open to you, and Kreacher will provide basic services for you. Once the accounts are settled with House Malfoy, your options may be greater."
"Thank you, Mr. Potter. I believe that would be best. I will return home first to gather my personal belongings. May Kreacher assist my elves?"
"Of course. Kreacher?"
Kreacher appeared with a quiet 'pop.'
"Yes, Master Harry?"
"Miss Narcissa is returning to us. Please respond to her and help her as necessary. She has access to the areas of Grimmauld Place as we discussed."
"Of course, Master Harry." He turned to Narcissa. "Mistress Narcissa. It is a pleasure to see you again. Welcome back to the House of Black. Please call Kreacher when you need him."
"Thank you, Kreacher. I will be calling for you soon, once I am through at Malfoy Manor."
"Of course, Mistress Narcissa." He looked to Harry, who nodded in dismissal. He disappeared again with another quiet 'pop.'
Narcissa stood. "I have no further business, then. Thank you, Mr. Potter. Ms. Granger. Account Manager Gornuk." She turned and left, one of the guards escorting her out.
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Harry leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. "Well, that was pleasant."
"I thought it went well," said Hermione.
"Oh, that's right. How did the bets come out?"
Hermione checked the top sheet of parchment. "Draco violating protocol straight off goes to Gornuk. I at least thought he would get the lay of the land first."
Gornuk grunted. "Inbred cretin."
She scanned down the parchment. "Draco never figuring out what was really going on, me. Draco choosing pride over everything else, me."
"Humph," said Harry. "I was sure his Pureblood background would have him pick money and survival."
"The only thing he knows about Pureblood customs is that he's convinced he's better than everyone else. Arrogant git. Completely clouds whatever little thinking he can do."
"You must be right."
She continued down the parchment. "Narcissa choosing wealth and safety under House Black goes to Gornuk."
"Narcissa has long demonstrated understanding of her training. She will always pick survival," said Gornuk.
Harry snorted. "Like a cockroach."
Hermione elbowed him in the shoulder. "Harry, be nice."
He looked insulted. "I am being nice. If I wasn't nice I would have just skipped this little meeting and bankrupted the both of them."
"True." She finished looking over her parchment. "Well, it's an even split between Gornuk and myself. Harry, you continuously overestimated Draco like I did, but also underestimated Narcissa."
Hermione handed Gornuk his bag of coins, kept hers, and counted out half of Harry's giving it to Gornuk, keeping the rest.
"Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Potter," said Gornuk, pocketing the gold.
"You're most welcome, Gornuk. A small price to pay. House Malfoy ended for all practical purposes, Draco penniless and homeless, Narcissa a loyal member of the family, leading the way to the end of Pureblood supremacy. I still feel like I won."
Harry looked thoughtfully at the doors that Narcissa had just left through. "I think I did the right thing. Or did I just invite a scorpion into our midst?"
Hermione shrugged. "Both, I guess. But she willingly agreed to come under your protection again. Family magic and tradition will force her obedience, I suppose."
Gornuk rumbled the goblin equivalent of a chuckle. "Do not underestimate her." They looked at him in surprise.
He rumbled again. "Oh, not as in she'll murder you in your sleep. She will be a dutiful member of House Black, and the benefits of again being one of the respected elite will not be lost on her. She will serve you actively and faithfully, and will be a valuable asset."
Harry stood. "I hope you're right, Gornuk. That doesn't mean I'm going to give her the opportunity though." He turned and gave Hermione a hand up. "Black Island for a week or two until the Malfoys are sorted, how does that sound?"
She smiled. "As much as I would like to see Draco's face when his former mother kicks him out of Malfoy Manor less that a week after he kicked her out, sun and sand is much more appealing."
Harry bowed to his account manager. "Thank you again, Gornuk. We'll be on Black Island until further notice. Send an owl or Kreacher if you need us."
Gornuk bowed back. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Always a pleasure, and a profit, doing business with you."
More A/N: A post on Pottermore has killed the idea that Charlus Potter, married to Dorea Black, is a direct relative of Harry. Just google Pottermore and Fleamont. Yes, Fleamont. Oy. Kills or at least makes inaccurate a swath of fanfiction, including one of mine. I had this idea before I found out, and continued writing anyway. Hope you enjoyed it.