Chapter Three

Archives

As it turned out, professor Lupin did in fact surpass his predecessors. By far. Apart from his extensive knowledge and his hands-on approach of the subject ("Take out your wands everyone, we will do a review of the jinxes and counter-jinxes that you know. I expect you to demonstrate your practical knowledge of the spells as well as the theory."), which immediately put him in the good graces of the students, Lupin was also a fair teacher, giving out point when it was due regardless of the House. He may seem a bit more favourable to the Gryffindors with his kind and easy smiles, but he was never unfair. He did have a peculiar reaction to her name while taking roll —a sort of strained, pained smile— but he was hardly the only one it occurred with. Snape had had a far stronger reaction the first time he called out her name, and McGonnagal's eyes had been gulfs of sadness on an otherwise stern face. She supposed they must have known her parents before they died.

It was odd to think that people who were initially complete strangers to her held more feelings toward the demise of her parents than she did. Oh, of course she was sad that they were dead, but it was more due to the situation it put her in rather than cherished sentiments toward them. After all, she didn't know them. She didn't know if they had been good people. She supposed they must have loved her, since they died protecting her. But she kept wondering, could they not have done something more if they were as great as people said? ("You have a knack for Transfiguration Miss Potter. Your father was a genius at it, it must be in the blood" — "The same deft hand at Charms as your mother! She would be proud" — "It is a miracle that you seem to be taking after your mother rather than your imbecilic father. He was completely inept at the delicate art of potion-making"). If they had loved her so much, could they not have fled the country, raised her safely away from the conflict? Her father had killed Rabastan Lestrange, a formidable wizard, before being taken down by his equally formidable brother Rodolphus. His wife, Bellatrix Lestrange (née Black! Could this blasted family not leave her alone?), and Bartemius Crouch Jr. had tortured her mother before her eyes and killed her. The Death Eaters had not had the time to turn their wands against her before the Aurors had arrived by a dozen and rounded up the terrorists, then shipping them to Azkaban and her, to her own personal prison, her closest relatives: the Dursleys.

Of course none of this would have been possible without Sirius Black, her father's best mate and her godfather, selling them to the Dark Lord's highest Lieutenant which just so happened to be his cousin. He had then tried to clean up behind him by killing another of his best friends who must have known of his duplicity but was caught in the act. Thus robbing her of one more possible magical living situation. In a sense, she resented Sirius Black a lot more than his cousin and her husband. They might have been the one to really do the deed, but it was not personal. They were on the opposite side of a bloody war (and her parents were on the losing side too if it wasn't for Neville Longbottom, the walking miracle). Her parents had chosen to fight, had chosen that their beliefs were more important than their safety, more important than her. Now Sirius Black was another story altogether. He had claimed from the very beginning, from the moment he was sorted in Gryffindor that he was against the Dark ideology. He had spitted on the timeless traditions of the Wizarding world, acted like a true muggle-lover —even though Harry was certain that he, like every Pureblood heir, knew nothing whatsoever of muggles to begin with— all that to betray her family at the last minute, when they needed him most, because it became obvious that the Light Faction was loosing the war. As far as Harry was concerned, he was nothing more than a coward, but the true reason behind her situation nonetheless. The Lestranges at least had killed her parents because they had believed in something, believed that in doing so, they were helping build a better world. No matter how deluded they had been, they hadn't been cowards.

All these informations, she had found them in the public archives of the National Wizarding Library of Magical Britain, commonly called the NWL, at the junction of Diagon Alley and Vertic Alley. As in every National Library, they kept archives of newspapers and other types of publications. They also kept reports of trials held by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. You couldn't access all of them and needed a special clearance to read the most ominous ones, such as the Lestranges and Crouch one. Thankfully, she thought bitterly, as the last of the Ancient House of Potter and the victim of their crimes, she had been allowed clearance to read the report over the summer by Madam Bones when she had learnt of Black's existence. She had been in for quite a shock. (and to think this Barty Crouch fellow had been cold enough to sentence his own nineteen-year-old son to lifetime in Azkaban). Something that still bothered her to this day was the fact that she found no trace of a trial being held against Sirius Black. Normally, she would have found a blank folder with his name, and from there she would have had to send a request for clearance like she had done for the Lestranges' trial.

Having enough as she had on her plate, she dropped the subject for a while. After all, she didn't really see what good could come out of stirring that rotter pot. Certainly not her parents in any case. But maybe it was time to send an owl to Madam Bones. For closure, let's say. And the Head of Department had been quite helpful the first time around, so maybe she could enlighten her once more. From what she looked up on the woman, she had started working for the DMLE straight after Hogwarts, only a year after the judicial debacle that was the Fall of the Dark Lord. From there, she had made a steady ascension until last year when she had been promoted to the rank of Head of Department at the young age of 27. All accounts seemed to favour her as a fair if strict woman, whose sheer force of will and stubbornness brought her to this position of influence in a mainly male-oriented environment.

You would guess right to think that she was a bit of a model for Harry who had no intention of letting her gender dictate what she could or couldn't do. Had she had a single silver of interest in this type of bureaucracy, she would have considered applying for a summer internship just to get to know the woman better. To think that Susan Bones of all person was her niece and had the possibility of grilling her on any matter of subjects made her green with envy. At diner, she looked for her in the sea of black and yellow ties. There she was, talking excitedly with her pudgy friend —something Abbott if she recalled correctly. Her bubbly personality was a sharp contrast to the strictness pictured by her aunt. Harry glared at her. No doubt the silly girl made no use of the mine of information she had at her disposal

"You're doing it again Henrietta." The amusement was clear in Daphne's voice.

Harry blinked in confusion. "Whatever are you talking about?"

"You tell me. Who is it that you're trying to set ablaze with your eyes this time? You'll scare the 'Puffs away."

Malfoy snickered. "Good. Maybe if you keep on they'll grow a spine one day."

The Third Years laughed around her. The Hufflepuff jokes never seemed to grow old at the Slytherin table.

"Well" started Davis, "I know at least one 'Puff that I'd rather you didn't scare away."

Greengrass acquiesced lightly in a sort of dreamy way that was quite unlike the usually so composed heiress. Ah. That type of reaction was only provoked by a handful of people at school, and only one of them belonged to the Badgers. She observed his profile. It was true that with his full head of lustrous brownish-copper hair and devastating smile, Cedric Diggory, Sixth Year Hufflepuff Seeker, was a right catch, something that all of the female student body seemed to agree on. Granger herself, the most no-nonsense and anti-gossip girl of their year was unable to stop herself from stuttering ridiculously in his presence. Naturally, the boys of her year all hated him. While Harry didn't have any problem admitting to the dreaminess of the heartthrob , she also found the idea of pining for him completely useless. With a three years difference, there was simply no way he would take notice of any of them. Maybe Granger —if only because she was best friend with the Boy-Who-Lived— but even then, considering that she was quite lacking in the look department with her overlarge front teeth and frizzy hair… No, there was really no point. Especially not when she had an appointment with Snape in one hour and essays to get started on.

At least, the topic of Diggory had provided her with an excuse not to talk about her childish jealousy for Susan Bones. These kids, all —or almost— heir to old and noble Houses wouldn't have understood. She stood up.

"Well, as interesting as this is, I have an appointment with Snape. I will be seeing you later I suppose."

While most boys seemed pleased by her disregard for the current subject of their discussion, Harry didn't miss the clever glint in of amusement in the eyes of Theodore Nott. It seemed her escape from the previous topic had not been quite as discreet as she had thought. At least he didn't seem keen on pushing the matter and even let her make her retreat without a single word.

At eight sharp (for she knew how he detested tardiness) Harry knocked on Snape's door office. After a curt 'Enter' she was standing in front of his desk as he wrote on a parchment. A full minute went by before he put his quill down and began:

"You may sit. Do you know why I have called tou here tonight?"

"I figured in was to discuss the matter of Sirius Black and his possible desire to murder me." Snape raised an eyebrow at her apparent apathy.

"Indeed. I hope it is unnecessary to inform you of the utter foolishness that going after him would be."

"Yes sir." Harry sincerely hoped that it was the last time she would have to say this.

"Good. You are not notorious for your recklessness but I though preferable to begin with this as to get it out if the way. I want you to know that I knew Black before he betrayed your parents, and even if some third party would like to make you believe otherwise, listen carefully: Black has always been a cruel and dangerous individual. He had all of the instability that his family was famous for. Now, after twelve years in Azkaban, surrounded by Dementors, I can only imagine what his mind is like. He would not hesitate to kill you. So hearken me the n I say this Potter, if you ever encounter him, I want you to get rid of all silly notions of honour and flee. Have I made myself clear?"

Harry bit her tongue to refrain from talking back. She knew all that, she really did, but it didn't stop her the retort from clawing at the back of her throat. She was not a coward. Her silence was apparently telling enough because Snape narrowed his eyes in a very intimidating glare.

"Your parents have not sacrificed their lives for you to throw away yours so carelessly! Despite your father's blood running through your veins I believe you are a somewhat intelligent girl. If the situation arise, you will act as the Slytherin you are and favour self-preservation above all else. Now, have I made myself clear?

Harry nodded with clenched teeth. While the tone grated her to unbelievable extent, she agreed with the message behind it. "I understand, sir."

"Good. If you feel in need of… assistance this year, you know where to find me."

Harry nodded one last time before taking the dismissal for what it was and heading back to her dorm.

The Common Room was full of people wanting to catch up with each other and discuss their first day. Tracey called her over as she was making her way toward the staircase to retrieve her homework. She and the Greengrass heir were sitting on the couches by the fire. Harry hesitated. She didn't want to seem rude, but the prospect of having to bear with Pansy and Millicent was far from a charming. She sighted. Might as well get it over with.

"Yes Tracey?"

"Sooo, what did Snape want with you? He can't already be displeased with you!"

"Nothing much, he simply wanted to address a personal matter."

Pansy huffed. "Personal matter alright, he must have wanted to debate over that despicable man. To think that your heritage could even include unhinged criminals! That's a new low even for you, isn't it?"

"Ah yes, my godfather. Did you know he's a cousin of Lady Malfoy? From your sound analysis, Draco dearest and I share the same despicable heritage."

Parkinson seemed almost chagrined to have indirectly insulted her crush. She did not back down though.

"It is regrettable that he is related to such an individual, but at least he didn't choose it! Unlike the sad excuse of a wizard that was your father."

Daphne gasped, putting a dainty hand over her mouth. "Pansy that's awful! Speaking so ill of a dead Lord… and in front of Henrietta too! You should be ashamed."

Parkinson sputtered. She was not used to being reprimanded for talking poorly of blood traitors.

"She's the one who should be ashamed! Having such despicable relations!"

"And her parents paid the heavy price for their choice. Surely that is compensation enough, wouldn't you say?"

She answered with a huff, looking around to see if she could find support. Her gaze fell on Malfoy as the boys entered the Common Room.

"Drake! Over here! We were just talking about Potter's godfather and how her dirty blood might soon be spilled."

Malfoy frowned and look positively uncomfortable with the current topic. Zabini simply rolled his eyes before walking away, completely uninterested with the conversation. From the look of it, the blond heir was quite envious of his course action.

"Well, yes it's a shame the government isn't even able to catch a half-starved criminal, but I can't say I'm surprised. Efficiency isn't really their key word."

Harry cut off Parkinson before she had the time to open her mouth.

"Indeed, Malfoy. Pansy also voiced her opinion of the Black Family in general. A new low, I think she called it?"

He visibly bristled at the pique against his mother's House.

"House of Black is one of the oldest and purest Families in Britain. It certainly is a shame what happened to them, but we should remember their former glory. And really, everyone who is anyone is related to them. Even House Longbottom, as sad as it is."

"Of course you're right Draco. Then again, Potter isn't really related to the Blacks, not by blood."

Of course her arse. Parkinson was simply jealousy because she herself was not related to the formerly unmatched House despite being part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. But she was surprised to see Malfoy smile.

"Actually she is. Her great-aunt was Dorea Black, she married Charlus Potter, the brother of Fleamont Potter, Henrietta's grandfather. "

Harry did not know what floored her more. The fact that he knew her genealogy so well, or the fact that he used her name so casually. Then again, she reminded herself that heirs to Noble Houses were supposed to know such thing. Daphne was nodding her head, showing that she too was aware of this information. But that meant…

"We're related?" Harry couldn't stop her horrified expression. She was relieved to see a similar face on Malfoy.

"Hardly. Dorea was my great-great-aunt, hardly enough to call us related. The Malfoy and Potter Houses have never married."

Pansy was fuming now. That was not the turn of event she had anticipated when she called the blond over.

"Yes well, Sirius Black is hardly one connection to be proud of."

Harry had had enough. She snapped "I've never bragged about him or anyone in my family " she ignored her "as you should!" And continued "but if we are to go by the criteria of him being a former Death Eater and a general criminal, then I think we all have someone to be ashamed of, don't you think Parkinson?"

She blushed horribly, but wasn't the only one to feel uncomfortable. It was a well known fact that the majority of the Death Eaters came from Slytherin —a fact the rest of the Hogwarts Houses were all too willing to remind them of. Despite her obvious anger, Parkinson wisely kept quite. Harry knew it was a risky move on her part, a comment probable to anger most of the Common Room, but she was not going to let this sorry excuse of a witch talk to her this way.

"Now that this is settled, does anyone know where to start with this horrendous essay on Puffapods?"

Daphne, whose Family was notoriously Neutral despite it being part one of the Sacred Twenty Eight, was the first one to recover from the previous barb.

"Don't get me started on Herbology homework Henrietta, it's the first day of class. Could you at least wait a week before reminding us of our despair?"

Harry smiled lightly at the chuckled rose around her. "I think I will head to the library then."

Theodore stood up as well. "I'll come with you. I have an owl to send."

Nott was acting out of character today. Finding no reason to say no, she acquiesced and went to grab her things in her room before heading out. If one more person wanted to talk to her about Sirius Black today, she would scream.

"I hope you're not about to grill me on my criminal relatives, Nott. I've had a long day."

He raised an eyebrow. "It wasn't my intention. I know better than most that we can't control our filial relations."

Harry blushed. "Excuse me, I didn't want to be insensitive."

He shrugged and pushed his hands in his pockets.

"I know. You usually don't, unless it's well deserved. Pansy was callous tonight. She shouldn't have said that about your father." Seeing her suspicious glance, he gave a scoff and added "Daphne told me. She was quite incensed on your behalf."

Harry secretly doubted that Daphne was outraged for her rather than outraged at the idea of a future Lady committing such a serious social faux-pas. Then again Pansy, for all her money and status, was far from being a model of poise and elegance. She voiced that last thought, watching curiously as Nott cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"She's usually much less difficult to handle. I think she's just been a bit jealous lately, it should blow over soon enough."

"Jealous?" Asked Harry incredulously "what does she have to be jealous about?"

If possible, he grew more uncomfortable, even his laugh sounded a little forced. "Please, there is no need for fake humbleness. You're a pretty wicked witch."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "So she's been a nightmare because she's jealous of my grade?"

"Don't act so surprised, it's plausible."

"Right, you have to admit that we don't see her hounding on Granger, and she's the top student in our year." Mostly because of her own dislike fir Herbology and History, something she was a bit sore about.

"Ah, well, it might have something to do with Lady Malfoy's comment as well…"

…What?

"Lady Malfoy knows who I am?" That, at last, drew a genuine laugh.

"Any socialite worth its salt knows of the last remaining heiress of House Potter who was sorted in Slytherin, Henrietta. It was a bit of a shock you see."

"Don't try to distract me Theodore. What comment are you talking about?"

"Just that you seemed like a fine young witch and… well, that you were as pretty as you were clever."

He mumbled through the last part, obviously discontent over having to say such a thing out loud. Thirteen years old were silly like that over things they considered embarrassing. But… Harry smiled to herself. It was truly a lovely compliment. While she was used to be complimented on her work since she enrolled at Hogwarts, they were of a different kind, and from teachers as well. To have such a high standing Lady hold her in high regards was very flattering.

"Oh. That's nice. But it hardly explains Parkinson's attitude, she was much less difficult last year."

Theodore looked at her like she was being thick on purpose. "Lady Malfoy holds all type of gathering during the summer. She must have told a few Ladies, and Mrs. Parkinson told Pansy."

As if that explained everything.

"So what? Just because she said I was clever doesn't mean she's about to draw a betrothal contract."

Theodore scowled at the reminder of arranged marriages. No doubt his father will rope him into one at some point.

"In any case, she was complaining about it on the train yesterday, so it must have bothered her." Then, to change subject, he said "You know you'll be expected to show up at the Ministry functions soon."

Harry looked up, alarmed "I thought I had until my majority?"

"Well, for the legislative procedures at the Wizengamot yes, but as heiress to an Ancient Family, you're expected to represent your House at social functions from your fourteen birthday onward. Did no one tell you that?"

Henrietta scowled "Muggle-raised, remember? My Gringotts manager only told me what was mandatory." Merlin, how she hated those situations.

"You should talk to Daphne about it, she's very savvy about theses things. Anyway, this is where we part. I'll see you later."

He headed off toward the Owlery and she continued to the Library with her head reeling. It seemed she would have a busy summer and would need to brush up on her etiquette. Purebloods could take ignorance of high society customs quite personally, as she was unfortunate enough to find out in First Year. She would take his advice and ask Daphne for her help. The girl would probably love the opportunity to turn her into the perfect pureblood heiress.

She started writing on her Herbology research, preferring to tackle one problem at a time and go with the hassle of her least favourite subject. Soon enough, curfew drew close and she had to pack up her parchment under madam Pince's careful watch. Nott's expedition to the Owlery also reminded her of her own intention to send a letter to Madam Bones, so she got to her dorm and settled at her desk to write it before she opted to procrastinate any longer.

"Dear Madam,

During my summer research on the trials of my family's persecutors, it came to my attention that I could not find any trace of Sirius Black's trial.

I thought that maybe it was a more heavily restricted file on a need-to-know basis only.

With all due respect, I believe I am to be part of this basis, considering my situation.

Looking forward to hear from you soon,

Henrietta Potter,

Heiress Potter.

She re-read over the letter. Short and to the point. Maybe she could have been a bit more courteous, but from what she picked up from her previous exchanges with the woman, she believed Madam Bones was the kind of person to appreciate straightforwardness. She closed the letter and apposed her Family Seal over it. Changing in her pyjamas, she went to the bathroom to wash her face and clean her teeth, bid goodnight to the girls present and slide into bed. Her first day back in the castle was always draining. Having to socialise again after two months of near-total isolation was ever a challenge to her, and the constant talk of Sirius Black and pointed fingers her way made it all the more stressful. It would take a few days to adjust.