The will reading had taken longer to write than I had expected, so I am splitting the funeral off from the last will and testament. The chapter will be told from a few perspectives.
I was disappointed not to get to the will reading, but I really like the results. I have finally hit my stride with this story.
We left off with Narcissa Malfoy desperate to escape the horrible situation her family now found itself in. With Voldemort wandering about Malfoy Manor, the Malfoys were being routinely terrorised within their own home. Not only is Voldemort furious that Lucius had lost his first Horcrux – the diary, but he lusts after the Black family wealth and is angry Lucius had not yet acquired it. The lack of funds is slowing down his own plans. To give the Malfoys an incentive, he had threatened to hand Narcissa and Draco over to Greyback for punishment if Lucius had not managed to acquire the Black family wealth by New Year's Day.
Narcissa approached Sirius for protection and sanctuary, but he coldly and maliciously rejected her and cast her out of the family. He made her see how hypocritical she was to come to him for aid when she had brought her pain on herself with her actions and her inaction. Both her fate and Draco's hang in the balance and she was terrified and desperate.
Note: I am changing the rating to M due to violence. I think 'T' is probably sufficient (PG13 equivalence), but I'd rather be safe than sorry. Just know that I have zero plans for there to be any intimate scenes, the change is purely for the potential violence that is sure to come.
Special thanks to this story's Beta reader, 'Just William' for your help and excellent feedback.
—Dance of Death 27—
Ch. 27 What Heroes Do
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
December 20th, 1995
Harry was sitting quietly in the main family room, staring at nothing. Perhaps a spot on the wall... Thinking back to the last twenty-four hours, he realised how fast it had all gone by. The last two days had been a whirlwind.
First, he was told the terrible news that Sirius was dead. He vaguely recalled falling apart and having to be potioned. He slept soundly until the next day. That's when reality came home. Today was a hellacious day of shock and grief.
Albus Dumbledore came by to check on him and he seemed sincere in his concern. To his credit, he merely said how sorry he was and offered his support. Harry just nodded. The Dursley's hated Dumbledore, but they held back their animosity today for Harry's sake. Remus was an emotional wreck as well and Tonks was having to support him… Just like Bill and the Dursley's were helping Harry.
Harry lost track of the well-wishers and sympathisers that came by. It all just seemed so surreal. So many people coming by, just to check on him. To Dumbledore's credit, he had Ginny and Hermione released early so they could be here for him. It was nice and he didn't have to do it.
Arthur Weasley and his family had been a difficult visit. Arthur was wracked with guilt over the whole event. Sirius had relieved him from guard duty… so he could go home and be with his family. In Arthur's mind, it should have been him. When he confessed as much, Harry just stood and hugged the man. He knew Sirius would never have wanted to live if Arthur Weasley, father of seven, had perished in his place. That's what heroes do.
Apparently, his kindness to Mr. Weasley had meant a lot to the rest of the visitors. It broke the tension, letting the emotions flow. People were crying now. Ginny had arrived with the other Weasley's and she stayed by his side, holding his hand the whole time. Hermione stayed close by as well and, with her parents, helped the Dursley's manage the visitors.
Uncle Vernon had successfully managed to present himself in the best possible way, given the circumstances. He didn't like all the magic and confusion the visitors brought, but he kept it to himself. He gave Harry constant support and affirmation that it was all OK. Aunt Petunia did much the same, even though Harry knew she was worried the neighbours would talk. The Grangers stayed on the periphery with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Harry suspected they grounded his Aunt and Uncle with their normalcy. Thank god they were there, or Uncle Vernon may have had a meltdown.
Eventually, people began to filter out. Hermione was sad, but extremely supportive. She promised to call frequently to check in on him. Harry had missed their daily phone calls from last summer. OWL mail was fine, but it wasn't the same. Tonks eventually dragged Remus out. He had wanted to stay, but she convinced him to get some rest. He looked like he hadn't slept in two days. Andromeda, Ted, Bill, and Ginny stayed to help clean up. Due to Ted's muggle upbringing, he seemed exceptionally normal. Andromeda had learned to navigate in the muggle world, so the Tonks seemed acceptable to the Dursley's. Harry could tell Andromeda did not care for Petunia, but she hid it very well. Ted got along with everyone… but there was nothing new there. Some people were like that… Ginny and Bill were well known and well-liked by the Dursley's. Harry was glad Mr. Weasley let Ginny stay longer with Bill.
Eventually, everyone left, and Uncle Vernon sat quietly with Harry. Neither spoke, but Harry was glad to have someone with him. Aunt Petunia reheated a treacle tart Mrs. Weasley brought over and put it out. Everyone sat quietly for a few minutes, then Harry realised that he should have had sooner.
"Uncle Vernon, I think you need to speed up your re-location." Aunt Petunia gasped at that. Her eyes looked both haunted and afraid. Harry suddenly remembered what happened to her parents.
His uncle looked over at him and asked, "Why do you say that, Harry?" By the look on his face, he already knew why.
"This is just the beginning. They're making their moves and it's only a matter of time. For crying out loud, you guys are in the phone book." Harry shook his head and scoffed. Thinking further, he added, "The ministry of magic knows where we live… and they're as corrupt as they come. You need to speed things up before… before anything else happens." There was no need to say who 'They' were.
Uncle Vernon didn't say anything for a few minutes, then stood up and said, "I'll look into it in the morning. I think we all need a good night sleep." He started to walk out of the room, but turned and added, "I'm sorry, Harry. I know how much you cared about your godfather. And I wish I'd had more time to… make things up to you." Harry knew what he meant. The guilt the Dursley's still felt for his childhood years was, at times, stifling.
Harry could only think of one thing to say… "Thank you, Uncle Vernon."
—Dance of Death 27—
Spinners End
December 21st, 1995
Severus Snape was enjoying a rare moment of calm. He sat and watched the fire burn, giving warmth to the drawing room. A simple warming charm would have done the same, but there was a calming feeling he got when he performed simple tasks with his hands. Staring into a fire always brought him a mild feeling of peace. He was currently sipping a glass of red wine. It was probably from the Malfoy Estates in Bordeaux, but not one of their higher end vintages. Of course, seeing as how the winery had been sold, it may be some other name soon. Either way, it was getting the job done.
He was feeling especially melancholy today. The worst of his childhood tormentors had left this earthly realm. Sirius Black was dead and soon to be buried. Good Riddance. Couldn't happen to a fouler individual. So, why couldn't he force himself to be happy about it? Marlene. She still haunted him day and night. There was simply no escaping her. With Sirius Black gone, there was now no one left to discover his crime. No one to exact their revenge on him. No one to bring him to Justice. Justice that would bring him… peace.
Then there was Lily. Always on the edge of his mind. He had loved her so much… But he pushed her away in favour of the emerging Death Eaters in Slytherin House. He pushed away a true and loyal friend so he could improve his social standing. Then, he tortured and murdered one of her best friends. Well, that's certainly oversimplifying it, but the results were the same. Lily was dead. Her parents were murdered. Her best friend was murdered. Her worthless husband was murdered. Her son was crippled and soon would be murdered. All because he made a wrong turn at Hogwarts.
Look here, his glass of wine had… evaporated. The bottle too… naturally…
There was a sudden knock on the door. Severus ignored it, but it repeated itself. With more force.
Blasted Hell! He mentally focused and lowered the wards on his home. "Enter!" Hopefully, it wasn't someone who had come to kill him.
Narcissa Malfoy gracefully meandered into his drawing room. She was beautiful, no doubt. She was also terrified. Severus tried not to think of her position. Of how her cousin had so cruelly turned her away. Whatever he had said to her, had a deep and profound effect. For two days, she had taken ill and refused to leave her room. When he finally saw her, he recognised the haunted look on her face. It was the same look he saw every day, whenever he looked in the mirror. Guilt. Damn you Black, for making her see herself like that. Damn you, and good riddance.
Severus forced himself to rise, "Lady Malfoy, to what do I owe… the pleasure?" She looked at him and he saw concern on her face. She always had shown him kindness when he was hurting. Such a rare thing. And from such a glacial woman.
"Severus. You seem… unwell." She paused, considering whether to stay. This wasn't the first time she had seen him on the wrong side of a bender. In the past, when he had too much to drink, she generally left him with a pitcher of water and what little pride he could manage. But today, she was not moving. She obviously had something to ask. Something she felt couldn't wait.
Severus didn't have the patience. "Lady Malfoy, please say whatever it is you came here to say. I fear I am swiftly losing my… focus." He tipped his empty glass up to his mouth in hopes of getting a few more drops. He succeeded.
Narcissa Malfoy came and sat across from him. "Severus, what can you tell me about Harry Potter?"
Severus sneered. It always came back to that boy. James Potter's face with Lily Potter's eyes. The reminder that his childhood tormentor ended up with the woman he had loved. The reminder that he had ruined so many innocent lives with his mistakes.
"I can tell you less than Draco. But, far more than Lucius. Can you be more… specific?" He delivered his answer in a flat and monotone voice. The same voice he used whenever he was feeling especially sarcastic.
"If Potter becomes the next Lord Black…"
"He won't. You already know that." Severus knew the plan. He knew what was going to happen. Harry Potter would never be Lord Black.
"Humour me, Severus." And she adopted a look. It was a pure Black look. One that tolerated no fools or foolish behaviour.
She was so like Bellatrix in her mannerisms. Yes, so like Bella, but without the insanity. Well, no telling what that crazy bitch was like now… Had it really been fourteen years? He suppressed a shudder. Fourteen Dementor filled years. When the Dark Lord got around to freeing her, there would be little left of the Majestic and Aristocratic Lady Bellatrix Lestrange. It remained to be seen if that would be a blessing or a pity.
With his silence, she continued, "Is he anything like Sirius? Would he grant Draco and I sanctuary?"
Severus laughed. What was the point in this speculation…?
"If by some… miracle… Potter became… Lord Black, then yes. He would most likely do the right thing. He is nothing like Sirius. He's nothing like James, either." It had taken him a few years to reach that conclusion. Despite himself, he wished he had reached it sooner. The boy always seemed to bring out the worst in him. Severus then made a disgusted look and said, "He is painfully noble." In the back of his inebriated mind, he mentally added, 'Just like Lily'.
This seemed to give Narcissa hope. "Then, you believe he would say yes. If I asked for protection…"
Severus laughed again. He had advised her to seek out Dumbledore, not Sirius Black. But she had ignored him. Her conversation with Sirius had nearly broken her. She wanted a third option now, but it just wasn't there. Harry Potter would never be able to help anyone, least of all her. Still, he cared for Narcissa. He owed her an answer.
Severus placed his glass on the side table. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "The boy has a 'saving people problem'. He can't. Say. No." The last four words were delivered slowly and deliberately, in true 'Snape' fashion.
—Dance of Death 27—
Surrey Boxing Club
Surrey, England
December 22, 1995
~ 9AM
Dudley Dursley had returned home the day before and was sorry he wasn't home sooner. He made a point to give Harry space, but to be there when needed. The next morning, he suggested to Harry that they get in a quick workout. He had gotten the idea from his youth minister who mentioned physical activity to help those in grief. Vernon drove them to the gym as he wanted to try and shed a few pounds by using the stationary bike. Dudley suspected he just wanted to stay near Harry and to possibly take 'his boys' out for a big lunch. No wonder he couldn't drop any more weight.
Upon arrival, Lou made a big fuss over Dudley, his star Heavyweight. He went on to say there was something in the blood as both boys were 'born fighters'. That made his dad swell with pride. Considering how much all this training was costing his father, Dudley was glad there was a bit of reinforcement.
Watching his smaller cousin, Dudley was shocked at how far Harry had come in four short months. Lou was, apparently, having trouble finding people able to give Harry a challenge. Dudley was more shocked when he saw some of the street fighting techniques Lou had taught Harry. He knew his dad had been furious when he found out Harry had been 'mugged', but he hadn't expected to see this.
Dudley had heard about Piers and the gang, but he also knew Harry kicked Piers' ass and the other boys were in serious hot water. He considered paying them all a visit, but his own youth minister at Smelting's had advised against retaliation. The minister stressed the need to be supportive of the victim rather than exacting revenge. He wanted Dudley to break the cycle of violence, not reinforce it. At the time, he struggled with the advice. Controlling your temper is far easier said than done. However, watching Harry brutalise opponent after opponent made him realise that Harry no longer needed 'protection'.
Harry was a lot denser, physically speaking, than he'd been four months ago. His arms and shoulders were thicker and there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. Weighing in at 57 kg (~125 lbs.), he had gained weight. He was taller too, up to about 165 cm (~ 5' 5"). He had gained… about seven kilos (15 lbs.) since Dudley last saw him. With a chuckle, Dudley thought, 'Maybe he finally hit puberty'. Harry was still small, but in a 'condensed' way. Solid as a rock. Dudley was a little envious of Harry's cut physique, but he liked being big, so… whatever.
Lou had Harry fighting 'Middleweights' (~ 160 lbs.) and 'Light Heavyweights' (~ 175 lbs.) for the most part. Even though Harry was now in the 'Featherweight' class, he needed stronger and heavier opponents that could go toe to toe with him. That meant 'fighting up' in weight classes. It was obvious that Lou saw a lot of potential in Harry, just like he had in Dudley.
Harry seemed to be near impossible to score a solid hit on and he had a style where he went straight into the body and just tore his opponents up. It seemed to be highly effective against larger opponents. Dudley realised Harry must have been training every day to be where he was now.
Lou stepped in between Harry and another of his opponents. A middle weight. "Stop! Arright Whiplash, he's had enough. Phil, nice job, but you can't let Whiplash get inside o' yer reach. He'll tear ya up if ya do. Both of ya need to cool down now. Phil, catch yer breath and jump rope for fifteen minutes. Whiplash, I want you rowing for thirty, medium to heavy resistance."
Lou made the rounds, then went over and spoke to a slender man in a suit. They went into his office and shut the door. Within about fifteen minutes, Lou came out and pulled Vernon off the stationary bike, taking him into his office as well. Dudley noted all this while warming up before his own practice round began.
—DoD—
Harry wrapped up on the rowing machine and went to shower up. The workout had been good for him. Yes, he went a bit harder on his opponents, but it helped him deal with the anger he was feeling. Losing Sirius was brutal, and tomorrow was the funeral. Dr. Gaines had an impromptu session with him and explained the seven stages of grief.
Harry knew it was all normal, but it felt like he had just entered the 'Anger' stage and had no way out. He wasn't even sure he wanted out. It felt good to lash out in the ring, he just had to keep his dirty tricks out of it. As the hot water beat down on him, he began to regret a bit of the pummelling he gave Phillip. But, that's why he fought above his weight, the larger guys could supposedly take a pounding. Next time he'd insist on a heavyweight, though. Phil was a nice guy and Harry didn't like the way he felt afterward.
When he came out of the locker room, he noted that Dudley had begun a practice round with another Heavyweight and the two were easing into it. Harry almost felt sorry for the other guy, he'd seen Dudley cut loose and it was not something he'd want to meet in a dark alley. Still, Harry knew he could hold his own against most other teens. Worse case, he could outrun them… He and Tonks had really upped their speed and stamina jogging home from the gym.
While watching the round begin, he heard his uncle call his name out. "Harry?" Looking over, he was approached by both Lou and Uncle Vernon.
His Uncle was grinning ear to ear. He made a fist and gave Harry an exaggerated playful punch to the shoulder. "Looking good there, Harry. Honestly, I was a little shocked at how good you are! You're like that Bruce Lee chap."
Harry could tell his Uncle was impressed. This was how he acted when Dudley would win a regional bout. Kind of odd that Uncle Vernon was comparing him to Bruce Lee after all that 'Karate is for sissies' talk. Still, Harry had to admit that Boxing had been a great way to learn to fight and get in shape.
Harry grinned. "Thanks, Uncle Vernon. Lou really pulled out all stops."
Lou shook his head, "Nah, Whiplash, this's all you. I know yer here most every day. It's paid off." Looking around a bit, he asked, "Where's that girl o' yours? You know, the looker with the funny hair…"
"Tonks?" Harry shrugged, "She had a family matter to deal with. She'll probably be mad I came without her…" He knew that was an understatement. She would be royally pissed. But he was with Vernon and Dudley… He enjoyed spending time with Tonk's, but he did occasionally enjoy getting out and away from his 'bodyguard'.
Uncle Vernon caught his eye. "So, there's a talent scout from Cambridge, Harry. He was impressed with what he saw. If you have a moment, he'd like to talk to you." With a curious head tilt, he added, "Privately."
Harry knew Dudley had already been approached by a few recruiters. All offering scholarships and opportunities. It looks like he was being recognised as well. Had he really gotten that good? He'd only be at it a few months…
"Sure, Uncle Vernon." Pausing a moment, he added, "Lead the way." There was something about the way his uncle's eyes looked. Slightly… unfocused?
—DoD—
Narcissa Malfoy had gotten a private message from one of the professional contacts she had hired to track down Harry Potter. Like the multitude of investigators Lucius had hired, this one had disappeared weeks ago. She had long assumed him dead and gone. She and Lucius theorised that Sirius had hired lethal protection for Harry as so many of their hired contacts had simply vanished… without a trace. Never to be seen or heard from again. Lucius had to begin using intermediaries, but even they would disappear. That was a problem for another day.
Narcissa had been told to go to the Surrey Boxing Club and to tell no one. She had been assured Harry would be there, but she might have to wait a while. Her contact had suggested she pose as a recruiter for a Muggle University called Cambridge. Once in, she would have to find a way to meet privately.
It was child's play to manipulate the interaction with the trainer and the corpulent uncle. A simple glamour was used to give her the appearance of a man. Men always were deferred to in such masculine environments as a combat-oriented gymnasium. Imitating a man was harder than looking like one. It went against all her upbringing, but she could manage it. Once she had convinced the Muggles that she was offering an amazing opportunity to their charge, a mild compulsion charm was all that was required, and they were eager to set up a private meeting with Potter. After they left, she placed a privacy charm on the office, no one would hear what would transpire.
She was impressed watching the Potter boy in the 'fighting square'. He was a gifted combatant. His movements were both fast and efficient. For a smaller sized individual, she noted with surprise the fact that he seemed to prefer closing the distance and getting in remarkably close. So close, he was hard to target himself. Once he'd closed the distance and was well inside the reach of his opponents, he was quite ruthless. If he had possessed a knife, he would have murdered every one of his challengers. One after the other.
She'd never seen a wizard or a witch able to fight like that. The same applied to a few of the other Muggles she had witnessed. Apparently, without the benefit of magic, Muggles had perfected the art of 'fisticuffs'. She shook her head at the absurdity of the name's Muggles used. A 'Ring' that is a square and 'Boxing' for fist fighting. She would amuse herself about that later.
Now that Sirius had cast them out of the Black family, Draco could never inherit the title of Lord Black. If he were tested and this became known, they would both suffer horribly at the hands of Greyback. The Dark Lord was completely insane, and Lucius was marked and unable to resist the wishes of the Dark Lord. Sadly, she had come to accept that her husband was doomed and there was nothing she could do about it. It was only a matter of time. But she had to think of Draco. He must not be forced to take the mark and he must be kept safe. Her son's safety was the most important thing to her. His safety and her own.
Yes, Draco could never rise to become Lord Black, but no one had been told. Narcissa knew the Dark Lord would be furious if he found out. She needed to buy time so she could take Draco and flee the Dark Lord's control. She knew he would torture and possibly murder Lucius as an act of vengeance, but there was no other way. If the Dark Lord lost the war, Draco could return and claim the title of Lord Malfoy. And if the Dark Lord won… Bavaria wasn't so bad. And they could smuggle galleons out of England through the Paris branch of Gringotts.
Her plan was simple, she would make Potter an offer he couldn't refuse. He would abstain from attending Sirius' last will and testament reading and she would offer her services and support to the next Lord Black. Harry Potter would soon come to rely on her as his new magical guardian and Draco as his peer and protector. With the two of them, he would be safe. His inability to use magic would not hinder him. Narcissa might not be considered a Black, but she could be the guiding hand behind the next Lord Black. Perhaps, in time, she could even come to care for the boy. After watching him fight, she saw he had potential. One day, Potter might even reinstate her in the family.
Yes, there were still details to work out, but she had the bones of the plan together. By February, she would no longer lay awake at night, afraid for her life. Perhaps she could even convince Potter to relocate to Bavaria… or Switzerland. The plan had risks, but it was the best plan she could make on short notice. This would have been much easier if Sirius had helped her. Now it all hinged on Potter giving them protection and abstaining from the will reading.
There was a knock on the door, briefly followed by its opening. Harry Potter walked in with his uncle and his trainer behind him.
Potter looked at her a moment and nodded. He then turned to his uncle and his trainer, "Thanks, Lou. Uncle Vernon. I'll come get you when we're done." And he casually shut the door.
Harry turned around and extended his hand, "Hello, I'm Harry Potter."
She reached out and shook his hand in a Muggle way she had seen. Suddenly, grasping her wrist, he darted under her arm resulting in her being spun around. Her wrist was twisted, and her arm was fluidly and painfully pulled behind her back. In the flurry of movement, a sharp device was suddenly pressed against her throat. How had he managed to see through her glamour? Now she was completely at his mercy. Her secondary wand was on her right thigh and her left hand was unable to reach it.
She was quickly forced, face first, against the wall. She was completely at Potter's mercy. The sharp object at her throat had nicked her a bit in the scuffle. "Please, I only want to talk…" She plead, more pathetic sounding than she preferred.
The boy spoke evenly, "So talk. Starting with who you are and what you want." There was a vicious edge to his even voice.
"I'm… a daughter of the house of Black. I'm looking for sanctuary and protection… Please, I'm in need of assistance…" She was also in pain and more than a little afraid for her safety. With the privacy charms she had set, no one would come to her aid.
She felt the sharp object on her throat disappear, but his hand was quickly placed to the back of her neck, holding her face against the wall. Undignified. Still, it was a good sign. Having a blade at one's throat was not an enviable position.
"I see. Well, where is your wand? Or should I say… wands?" He was fishing, but he was also holding all the cards. She considered lying, but she really wasn't in a good position. Narcissa accepted that she was beaten.
"My primary wand is on my right wrist. My secondary wand is on my right thigh. I swear I am here in good faith."
She felt him take the wands from her. It was very demeaning to be 'manhandled' this way. His hands roughly felt about on her thigh, then her wrist. He checked a few other locations as well. She took a small bit of comfort knowing there was no lustful intentions in his roving hands. When her primary wand was taken, she lost control of the glamour and felt the boy stiffen in surprise. He released her wrist, allowing her to extract her arm from behind her back. Her right shoulder ached where he had twisted and held her arm behind her.
"Lady Malfoy? What are you doing here…?"
Turning, she saw a young teen, shocked both by her presence and, apparently, at having assaulted a woman. There was an innocence about him. More than innocence… Apparently Severus had been correct. Harry Potter was… Noble.
After recovering her poise and dignity, she began the speech she had intended.
"Heir Black, I come seeking shelter and sanctuary…"
—Dance of Death 27—
Gringotts
December 22nd, 1995
4PM
Harry was sitting in Director Ragnok's office waiting for the goblin. He had persuaded Uncle Vernon to let him visit Dr. Gaines while Vernon and Dudley had Fish and Chips nearby. Both his Uncle and Dudley had agreed. They knew Harry relied on Dr. Gaines and this was a difficult time for him. But Harry didn't go to see Dr. Gaines. Using his cloak, he had quickly snuck into Gringotts. Once there, he went to the VIP line and asked to speak with the director, using his title as the future Lord Black. Knowing the Director had written him off after he lost his magic, he needed the title to get the interview.
Earlier that morning, Narcissa Malfoy had arrived at his gym under a glamour. He was able to sense the magic and knew by the way it 'felt' that there was a glamour in play. The training he had received from Tonks came in handy as he was able to quickly overpowered and disarm her with standard Auror techniques. He was shocked that not only was it a woman, but that it was Narcissa Malfoy. While he was eventually convinced of her sincerity, he was also shocked that a person with Deatheater connections had tracked him down. It was only a matter of time…
Narcissa Malfoy had shared a great deal with him. First and foremost, the fact that Draco was going to challenge him to the Black Lordship at the will reading. She had practically begged him not to attend, pointing out his lack of magical ability. While he mistrusted her intentions, the woman genuinely seemed afraid. She shared with him the fate that awaited her and Draco.
Despite his hatred of the Malfoy's, he had to admit their fate was horrible. She proceeded to describe what it was like to live in fear every day and how her elves were being hunted and fed to Nagini. Harry had mixed feelings. Perhaps Lucius deserved his fate, but did his wife? Did his son?
Then the negotiations started. Narcissa focused on how she could help him. She offered her services and her support, if he gave her shelter and protection. She discussed helping him navigate the pureblood world and giving him magical protection. She also knew the assets he could use as the future Lord Black. Apparently, there's a Black manor in Bavaria that was rather impressive. A few other properties as well, like the one in Switzerland. Even some island in the Caribbean.
Harry wondered if she had any idea how many people were already filling these roles. But she was desperate, so he was kind. Why hadn't she approached Sirius? He would have been much more able to help her out of this jam. At least she had given him knowledge on the will reading. He now knew what was to come.
In the end, Harry offered to give her protection in exchange for future vows of loyalty and support, to be solidified after the will reading. There was no way he was leaving this level of risk to an easily twisted oath. He wanted contracts, like Arcturus created. The ones Sirius used to drain the vaults of the traditionalist families. Yes, Harry had paid attention and he thought Arcturus was brilliant. Learn from those who came before you…
No, he had no idea how to draw up such contracts, but he had known where he could go to find out. His parent's incarnations may know. He'd discuss it with them tonight while he slept, but time was of the essence and he couldn't afford to lose a day. Technically, it hadn't been two weeks since his last interaction in his dreamscape, but these were extenuating circumstances. Of course, he could also ask Ted… but he wanted to know more first. About different contracts and this challenge Draco would be making. This is what brought him into Gringotts.
Ragnok entered the office and took a seat in his chair. "Heir Black, it's good to see you again. What can I do for you?" The Goblin's words were polite, but his tone and body language were clear. He was irritated. He had written off Harry Potter months ago and had no more use for him. Harry knew he would change his tune soon enough. Ragnok loved making wizards and witches look bad. He would simply love this opportunity.
"Director, I need a bit of advice and assistance…"
—Dance of Death 27—
Black Family Burial Grounds
Ruins of Ashor Castle
Lundy Island off the coast of Devon
December 23, 1995
11 AM
Hidden from muggle eyes, there are ruins of a small keep in a remote section of Lundy Island. The ruins are little more than a few circles of stones and remnants of walls outlining what was once a home for the original Black Knight. It is nestled between cliffs of Granite and it has a small area where the Lords of House Black are buried. There are dozens of stones marking the resting place of each Lord Black since Lord Ashor Black himself. Honoured family Knights and champions were also buried there from time to time.
This is where the Black family originated. These were the assassins of kings. The protectors of tradition. The House of Black was always the house of the skilled and powerful. The house motto, 'Always Pure', has been used many times in many ways. Some say it once meant 'pure of heart' and the Black Knight was once tasked with killing tyrannical kings. Others say the Black Knight takes on the sins of his King so the King may remain 'always pure'. Some say the motto is referring to purity of spirit and of purpose, never surrendering or compromising your principals. In recent decades, the family interpreted the motto to mean the Black Family was pure of blood and all in the line must also be pure of blood. In the end, it never mattered. The Lords of House Black would rise and fall, but they would always end up on Lundy Island. Resting in Peace. Beside the remains of a once small, but well-fortified, Bronze Age keep.
A small gathering was on the edge of the cemetery. At the centre of this private gathering, the body of Sirius Black was slowly lowered into its final resting place. He rested within an intricately carved mahogany coffin bearing the family crest. It was lowered and covered while his friends and family watched and lamented his passing. Those considered family were closest to the grave. A teenaged young man with messy black hair and glasses stood beside a talk man with Red Hair. Beside the taller man was a beautiful woman with long silver blonde hair. On the other side of the teen was another teen, she was a young lady with red hair. The teens were gently holding each other's hands while the young man stared at the freshly covered grave.
Near him were other family members, all lost in their own thoughts and regrets. A tall attractive woman with thick brown hair was with her large and somewhat overweight husband. They stood with their daughter who appeared to be in her early twenties and had spikey pink hair. She was holding hands with a sandy haired man whose face was covered in scars. He appeared to be at least a decade older than she was.
Slightly further away, was a larger group of friends. Men and women the deceased had worked with and knew well. An older man with a long beard seemed to command the most respect. Near him was a tall and slender older woman with glasses and hair pulled into a tight bun. A large family of red heads fidgeted about. A half dozen other friends watched the burial as a tombstone was set in place. It read:
Here lies
Lord
Sirius Orion Black
Padfoot
Marauder Eternal
The Most Sirius and the Least Serious
He Was Loved.
11-3-1959 to 12-19-1995
Rest in Peace
The funeral ended and the attendees slowly departed. Before leaving, each person approached the family and expressed their condolences. It was part of the process for saying goodbye. All the correct traditions were honoured and a dear friend to all was laid to rest. To rest in peace.
Soon, the family members Apparated to 12 Grimmauld Place, where the reception would follow. Little was said, but words were not necessary. As the family Apparated away, the site slowly shimmered and faded out of sight. Within minutes, there was no trace of the ruins or the cemetery. The ancient home of the Black Knight was hidden from sight once more.
—DoD—
Told from the Point of View of Andromeda Tonks
—
12 Grimmauld Place
London, England
December 23rd, 1995
Noon
Andromeda Tonks was quite proud of Hadrian. He had shown strength and poise during a heart wrenching ordeal. Given the return of Voldemort, there was a high likelihood of more funerals in the days to come, but it was best not to dwell on that. In an hour, mourners and well-wishers would begin to come and pay their respects. Unlike the funeral, this would include more than just Sirius' friends and family. Kreacher had prepared enough food for the occasion and Hadrian had politely asked Walburga's painting to refrain from harassing anyone. Given Hadrian's blood status, Andromeda found it very odd that she listened to him. That was a question for another day.
Hadrian was Sirius' designated Heir and was responsible for personally greeting all the visitors. There would be many visitors today. Some who were close, and many who were not. Still, tradition must be honoured. For Sirius' sake. Andromeda had walked him through his role and responsibilities, and he had adhered to tradition flawlessly. No one at the reception would be able to say Hadrian had failed to comport himself as the Heir of an Ancient and Noble house should.
As she had expected, several the visitors from the traditionalist families were at best neutral and a few were likely supporters of Voldemort's proposed pureblood agenda, if not his methods. To allow them so near Hadrian was a risk, but one that must be taken.
Dumbledore had argued against the exposure, but she was his legal guardian and had insisted. If he was to become the next Lord Black, then this was his coming out, so to speak. He would be meeting many influential families for the first time, and this first impression was critical. Between the family wards and the enchantments on the Heir rings, Hadrian would be acceptably safe. Given the number of Dumbledore followers in the home, an outright attack would be simply ridiculous. After the reception, the wards would be reset to their normally lethal levels and possibly enhanced even further.
In the end, most of the Voldemort supporting families refused to attend or acknowledge the funeral or Harry. That was a blessing. There was one glaring exception. Narcissa Malfoy and her son Draco were coming by at four o'clock. Hadrian had taken it well, likely in part because he was still in a bit of shock, but she was nervous that he would be on a short fuse. One vile word from young Draco and her ward could explode. William had always been kind enough to stay near Harry, as had Arthur. Hopefully, they could head off any problems before they occurred.
The other social concern she had was with the young lady that Hadrian seemed so close to, Ginevra. She appeared supportive, but she was not following the traditions that would normally be required at a formal reception, such as this. Fortunately, all eyes were on Hadrian, not the emotional young lady beside him. Molly Weasley was just as bad, maybe even worse, with the way she sneered at the traditionalist families. You'd never know she was a Prewett by birth.
While Andromeda was considering the Weasley women, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy entered Grimmauld Place. Most of the other visitors had left, so there wasn't a crowd to see these two arrive. Lucius was not welcome, but there was no turning away two individuals that were extended members of the Black Family**.
With a stiff posture, Narcissa Malfoy approached Hadrian. Draco was at her side and he was just as stiff. They both seemed nervous and out of place. Neither looked about the room or made eye contact with anyone in attendance. Andromeda watched them approach and noted that Hadrian seemed disconnected. Narcissa and Draco stopped in front of Hadrian.
Draco cleared his throat and spoke, "Heir Potter, please accept the condolences of House Malfoy on the loss of your godfather."
Hadrian gave a simple, but acceptable response, "Thank you, Heir Malfoy. The House of Black recognises and appreciates your support in this difficult time." Cold, but acceptable. Andromeda breathed a bit easier.
Andromeda realised Draco Malfoy said the minimum required by tradition, but nothing outwardly antagonistic. She did note that Draco referred to him as Heir 'Potter', not as Heir 'Black'. That was a very subtle challenge. Hadrian's response was perfect. He even made a point to speak for the House of Black, asserting his position as the Black Family Heir.
Narcissa held out her hand. After a brief pause, Hadrian kissed her knuckles. Andromeda knew how much he hated kissing hands. Most muggle-born and muggle-raised individuals struggle with that. Hadrian was no exception. Molly Weasley sneered not so subtly.
Narcissa ignored Mrs. Weasley and seemed far less cold than her son, "Heir Black, you have our sympathy and respect. Know that, as a daughter of Black, I offer my most sincere condolences. Please feel free to owl us if there is anything we can do to help."
Narcissa's statement shocked Andromeda. Not only had she addressed Hadrian as the Black Heir, but to offer correspondence… it was shocking. Narcissa seemed far more conciliatory than expected.
"Thank you, Lady Malfoy… The House of Black recognises…" Hadrian had lost his train of thought for a moment. Yes, he was off balance. Draco looked stunned by him mothers' words. So did everyone in ear shot.
Collecting himself, Hadrian picked up, "The House of Black recognises your sympathy and respect. Your support is appreciated." It was like what he had said to Draco, but less frigid. Andromeda noted that Ginevra's face was red as a tomato and she was glaring daggers at both Malfoys. She seemed about to explode. That wouldn't do, she needed to intervene.
Stepping forward, Andromeda spoke up, "Dear sister, so good of you to come." Turning to Draco, "Nephew." There was no warmth in her greeting. She approached the pair only to satisfy tradition. And to prevent an outburst from Ginevra, embarrassing the family. What did Hadrian see in her?
Draco took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Aunt Andromeda." Draco executed the traditional greeting flawlessly and without hesitation. Andromeda noted that Hadrian showed a spark of anger when Draco kissed her hand. Apparently, he feels protective of her. Thankfully, he said nothing and Ginevra managed to control her mercurial tongue.
Narcissa looked over at Andromeda, "Dear sister, I hope you are well." She smiled, but the smile never reached her eyes.
"Your concern is touching." This was as polite as Andromeda could manage. She still remembered the comments her younger sister had made when the family learned of Andromeda's pending nuptial to Edward.
Narcissa used Andromeda's appearance to cut the visit short before difficulties arose. "I fear we must depart, but we wish you all a calm and quiet evening." Andromeda was a bit surprised to see and feel no edge to her words.
Hadrian simply said, "Thank you, Lady Malfoy. Be safe." Andromeda was proud. Hadrian held himself well. Thank goodness. But his statement to 'Be safe' sounded odd. They hadn't rehearsed that.
After the Malfoy's left, Nymphadora came over and shook her head, "That was some weird shite." The crass comment earned her a withering look from her mother. Still, Andromeda couldn't disagree with her daughter. That was… unusual. With a little luck, she wouldn't have to use the words Dear and Sister together for quite some time.
—Dance of Death 27—
Order of the Phoenix Meeting
Grimmauld Place, First Floor
December 23, 1995
Severus Snape had just relayed the plans Lucius Malfoy had contrived to gain control of the Black estate. Everyone was shocked at the subtlety of the implementation, the boldness of the action, and the corruption within the Wizengamot that had allowed it. Minister Fudge was either a fool or he was very eager for Lucius, through Draco, to gain the Black estate. No doubt he was seeing ways to pad his own vaults.
Months ago, Lucius had quietly sponsored an amendment to the Wizengamot that seemed mild and inoffensive. However, it served to reactivate an old law where the Heir of either a Noble or a Noble and Ancient family could be challenged by another if the challenger had at least as strong a claim for inheritance. The basic terms of the challenge were set by the defending Heir, giving the defending Heir the right to choose terms that best suited their strengths. Ancient duels had many different potential methods. Ranging from the size and shape of the duelling field, to the distance between combatants. Levels of mobility, and the way the duel would commence.
But before the challenge was considered, the challenger had to prove they had a strong enough claim. Historically, the challenge would be fought to the death, but 'Multa'***, or penalty of property, could requested by the 'seconds' of either side if their duellist appeared to be losing. The request for 'Multa' could be ignored, resulting in the death of the losing party. Alternately, the 'Multa' could be accepted and negotiations would begin. Standard terms were for most of the losing party's wealth. It was a very risky strategy that could backfire terribly on the challenger.
On the other hand, if the defending Heir simply refused the challenge and walked away, he could keep a fourth of the holdings and wealth that would have been his. The Lordship would be granted to the challenger with no animosity or reprisals permitted. Many wealthier Heirs were more than satisfied with this. Frequently, the challenges were welcomed and even encouraged as a way for an older sibling to step down and pursue a life they preferred. This was frequently done in collaboration with a younger sibling or cousin. It was a 'bailout clause' for under-aged Heirs who preferred a life without the burdens of leadership.
When the law was originally active, there were other options the defending Heir could exercise. If the family had a champion, the Heir could name the champion to fight on their behalf. If the current Lord were still alive and was passing the Lordship down voluntarily, he could simply deny the challenge on behalf of his Heir. Unfortunately, the House of Black's champion was Harry. The Lord, Sirius Black, was no longer alive to reject the challenge on behalf of Harry, his designated Heir.
The whole set up was, unfortunately, a perfect fit for the scenario Harry was now in. Harry was a weakened Heir without a Lord or a champion. Draco filled the role of a challenger with a stronger claim on the Lordship. At Lucius' direction, Draco would make a challenge for the Black Lordship before the will reading. Given Harry's inability to use magic, there was little doubt what the outcome would be.
Alastor Moody grimaced and said, "Maybe Potter can take him." Harry was tough, but without his magic…
Severus scoffed. "Draco Malfoy may not have been a match for Potter before his injuries, but he's still one of the most dangerous fifth years I've ever seen. And Potter is, for all intents and purposes, a squib."
Minerva McGonagall spoke up, "Albus, something must be done… we can't let them get their hands on the Black fortune. If they did, I shudder to think of what they could do with it."
Albus Dumbledore felt so very tired. How had he missed that damn amendment? The answer was simple, he was distracted. Trying to do too many jobs and not doing a particularly good job at any. At a cursory look, the amendment had been innocent enough. The reactivation of the old law was the fine print. And it was submitted through third parties while Lucius and his supporters submitted other objectionable proposals that were less subtle and far more obvious in their intent. The other proposals were just Red Herrings, meant to distract from the true prize. Lucius Malfoy may be many things, but politically inept, he was not.
Shaking his head, Albus asked, "What would you have me do, Minerva? I'm afraid my influence only extends so far…" he paused to think of any other way… no. There wasn't one. "The best we can do is delay the will reading."
Bill couldn't think of another way either. "Harry won't want to walk away, Albus. You know it and so do I. To him, this is more than pride or money, it's Sirius' final wishes."
Albus hadn't considered Harry's reaction, "Then he must be convinced."
Remus snarled, "Lucius Malfoy will force the reading… he's holding all the cards! Fudge only sees Pound signs where the Black fortune exists." Sometimes, Remus' wolf was closer to the surface than even he was aware.
Albus sadly sighed. "Attendance, is where the law is nebulous. If Harry is not present at the reading of the will, the Title cannot change hands. However, Draco's challenge would be evaluated, and he would likely be granted three quarters of the Black estate, but not the title of 'Lord Black'. He will have to meet Harry in combat for the title to change hands, which Harry can avoid until he is of age. No, Remus. I'm sorry, but Harry will have to settle for one fourth of his inheritance. However, for the moment at least, he will keep his title as Heir Black and most of the physical properties. I'm sorry, but that's the best we can hope for."
Arthur groaned and shook his head, "You can't take this away from the lad. He needs to hear the will… for closure. There must be some way…" Arthur knew he was speaking from the heart, not the head.
Albus sadly shook his own head, "No Arthur, I'm afraid not. It's simply too dangerous. Sirius would not have wanted Harry to risk his life like this." Pausing a moment, he added, "Should he accept the challenge and lose, Draco would be the next Lord Black. He would have full access to the Black Grimoire and several extremely dangerous artefacts. In addition, the Potter assets would have to be offered in 'Multa'***. While the Potter fortune is not as great as the Black fortune, it does contain an impressive amount of ancient tomes and rare arcana which we would not want in the hands of the enemy."
Minerva McGonagall suddenly gasped, "My word! We've been so focused on the wealth; I hadn't even considered the arcane knowledge and family magic." The Black family had some very ancient and very dark tomes.
Tonks looked pensive, then added, "Sirius reinstated us to the House of Black. If Draco becomes the Lord… Lucius will have some level of control over us."
Obviously, no one had considered that either.
Albus looked twice as upset now. "I am terribly sorry, Nymphadora. But if Harry attends the will reading, you and your parents will have to renounce your membership in the House of Black. So, you see, Harry must be kept away."
The rest of the meeting was focused on how to block the Death Eaters from expanding their influence once their wealth had been bolstered with the Black Estate. It was not a very cheerful meeting.
—Dance of Death 27—
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
December 24th, 1995
Bill, Arthur, Remus, and Andromeda walked out of the Dursley residence. They had explained to Harry the need to stay home during the reading of Sirius' will. At first, Harry had argued extensively, but it was all for naught. It seemed to be a waste of time; their minds were made up.
Harry eventually gave in. The deck was stacked just a little too much against him. In the end, he agreed to stay home and not attend the will reading on the condition that Bill attended the reading and come to Privet Drive immediately after to fill him in.
Misdirection…
Bill had originally offered to stay with Harry, but Harry declined. He insisted on having someone at the reading he could trust to watch Dumbledore. Someone who knew his tricks. Harry also reminded them that the reading was on Boxing Day and he wanted to have a quiet day with the Dursley's. No school, no drama, and only Bill as a visitor.
Andromeda seemed a little hurt that she wasn't included, but Harry could live with that. She'd be shocked when he suddenly showed up at the reading. This way he could say he hadn't lied to her. Well, not badly anyway. Alright, he was lying to everyone. Well, so be it. There was no way he would miss this. Especially after his little talk with Lady Malfoy. He'd have to enlist Dudley, but he knew the boy was up for it.
Harry sat down and sipped his lemonade. He had come close to telling Bill about his conversation with Narcissa more than once. He just wasn't sure he should. Narcissa was an extended member of House Black and she had formally requested his help. That made it a Black Family discussion. As much as he cared about Bill, he was not a part of the Black Family. While he could discuss it with Andromeda… he knew she'd think the worst. Narcissa had not been kind when Andromeda had left the family to marry Ted.
Harry saw this as a test of his leadership. His first trial as Lord Black. He owed it to Sirius to work this out. This was his problem to solve. Bill wasn't Lord Black, and neither was Andromeda. Albus Dumbledore sure as hell wasn't. To make matters more confusing, Harry had discussed it with his parents in his dreamscape and they were of dramatically differing opinions.
His mum thought it was too risky. Take the money and run, she had advised. She liked the idea of Harry moving to the mainland… Just until he was recovered enough to stand on his own. Magically speaking, that is. She did not trust Narcissa and even remembered her from school. Narcissa was a few years ahead of her and had been a young leader in Slytherin. To her credit, she had never acted out the way the Death Eater 'wannabes' had. She had also been kind to Severus, despite his being a half-blood. However, to Muggle-born students, she was quite the pureblood snob.
Kindness to Snape didn't win Narcissa any points with Harry, but he got the point. Narcissa Malfoy was a stuck-up bitch, but she was no Death Eater.
His dad disagreed with his mum. He understood the importance of meeting the challenge from a pureblood's perspective. He explained that Harry had a fully functional spell matrix ready for use and he was certain Harry could win the duel. He had a whole strategy prepared and Harry thought it was brilliant. Yes, it was dangerous and daring, but brilliant. James was one of the top strategists in the Order of the Phoenix during the first war, and it showed in his approach. Harry knew this was what Sirius would do. It was what his dad would do. It was even what his mum would do if it had only been her own safety on the line.
Harry knew he was going to fight. There was no way he was going to run from Draco Malfoy… Especially after what he had learned from Ragnok. He'd be daring and he'd risk it all… and he would win. Once he emerged triumphant, he would prove he was a worthy successor to Sirius, the next Lord Black. To his father's title as well, Lord Potter. But to pull this off, he'd have to trick everyone he cared about.
Ironically, it was partially for Draco and Narcissa's safety that he was fighting. As Lord Black, he could either protect them or cast them out. He knew what fate she would have of he cast her out… Draco's too. He couldn't do that. Not after seeing the fear in her eye. Hearing her voice quiver… No. What kind of person would he be if he did that? But he'd help her on his terms. Not Bills, Not Andromeda's, certainly not Dumbledore's. Why?
Because that's what heroes do.
As for Narcissa, well, he wouldn't just trust her on good faith. After all, she was the wife of a Death Eater. The mother of his hated arch-rival and school nemesis. And Draco was part of the package. Harry had already begun taking steps to ensure compliance from them both. Just like Arcturus had with the other traditionalist families. One thing was for sure, Ragnok would get his little show. Harry knew if he couldn't deal with this family matter, he didn't deserve to become Lord Black or Lord Potter. He needed to do this for Sirius.
The only thing that he found peculiar, was that when Narcissa asked for help, he hadn't felt a 'pull' on his magic. His father seemed to think he should have felt something… Forcing his attention. Compelling him to action. To provide help and safety or to cast her out. Was it because his magic was still healing or was it something else? Maybe it was because he hadn't yet proven himself. That would change soon enough.
—Dance of Death 27—
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
December 26th, 1995
8:30 AM
Christmas had been a quiet affair. The Dursley's kept things upbeat and Harry tried not to bring them down. He was trying not to be a drag. He finished the adjustments on his motorcycle, it was something he had built with the Sirius. He had promised to help Dudley build the larger boy's bike after Christmas. They'd do it together.
Harry was in no mood to shop and just wanted Christmas to come and go so he could take care of business at the will reading. On Ragnok's suggestion, he had hired a personal shopper, through Gringotts, to buy most of his wizarding gifts. Yes, Ragnok was all sweetness and sunshine after hearing Harry's plans. Bastard.
But he had steered Harry right on the personal shopper. All Harry had to do, was provide a list of names with their hobbies and interests. Ten galleons each was what he budgeted. With a ten percent adjustment up or down. Harry considered that with a five pound to the galleon exchange rate, that would be about… fifty pounds per person****.
From his closest friends, he mostly received sweets and home baked treats. Perfect. He bought a few personal items in addition to the ten galleons he had authorised for the people closest to him, like the Dursley's, Bill, Ginny, Fleur, Hermione, Luna, Katie, and Colin. The Dursleys had given him a leather motorcycle jacket and a cool pair of boots. Also socks and underwear. He had to admit, the jacket and boots were cool.
He and Dudley had both gotten a pair of motorcycle helmets in anticipation of future rides together. Dudley's had 'Big-D' on the back and Harry's had 'Whiplash' on it. Seemed odd to give someone a protective helmet with the name of an injury you normally get in a vehicular accident, but it was still cool.
Bill and Fleur gave him duelling robes that were extremely well made. A gift Fleur had picked out. All silk and easy to move in. No, not just silk. Acromantula silk… nice. He'd wear it to Hogwarts when he returned for his mid-year review and his OWLs.
Now it was eight thirty AM on Boxing Day and everyone was asleep. Harry wrote out a note saying he and Dudley were taking the motorcycle out for a quick ride. Sure, he was too young, but Dudley was almost sixteen. That made it almost legal for him to drive a moped. A motorcycle is practically a moped. Dudley had also driven a friend's motorcycle before at Smeltings. Harry's motorcycle had a full tank and Harry was sure it would get them to London and back. After all, Sirius had helped him build it. It was fitting really.
Harry had considered calling a taxi, but it was Boxing Day… He had no idea if taxi services even operated on Boxing Day. No, this was a better plan. If Dudley didn't speed or crash, they'd be at the Leaky Cauldron with time to spare. Given the helmets, no one would even recognise them until they took them off and entered the pub.
First, Harry would use his cloak to get out of his house without anyone noticing. He'd then wait a quarter mile up the road at the nearest service station. Dudley would then take Harry's recently re-built and restored motorcycle and pick him up. After that, there'd be nothing but the road and the sky ahead of them. Thankfully, it wasn't raining or snowing. The plan was rock solid, and all worked out. Honestly, what could go wrong?
—DoD—
Mundungus Fletcher was looking forward to his shift ending. It was Boxing Day and he had some 'boxing' of his own to do. Sirius had opened the wards on the first floor of Grimmauld place for the Order of the Phoenix to use and Mundungus was a member with full access. He knew he could get into Grimmauld Place and lift a few choice items today. Mundungus reflected that he had avoided the place for a week now, but he was certain no one would be in that old house for the rest of the day. No… It was Boxing Day, and everyone would either be out and about or home with family. If anyone caught him, he would just say he left something behind at the last meeting. Which was technically true. He left his expanding bag behind.
Watching Harry's home had been boring. He saw the older boy go for a motorcycle ride, but Harry was apparently sleeping in. And there was no mistaking the two boys. No sir, not a chance. One huge and the other small and skinny. Oh, well. His shift would end at two in the afternoon. He was looking forward to 'Boxing' Day.
With visions of the profit he would make selling off choice items from Grimmauld Place, Mundungus smiled warmly. Sirius wouldn't need any of it anymore. Better he should profit than the Malfoy's get their hands on any of it… In a way, he was doing everyone a favour… He especially looked forward to collecting that silver tea set.
Mundungus loved Boxing Day…
—Dance of Death 27—
*These are Amateur boxing weight classes, not professional. Harry falls in the 'junior' category for 15-16-year olds.
**Sirius never made public his casting out of Narcissa Malfoy and her progeny from House Black. Narcissa knew if it were made public, Voldemort would exact the horrible punishments he had threatened Lucius with.
***Multa – Latin for Fine. Penalty. Penalty involving property. (Online-Latin-dictionary)
****Harry was wrong. The exchange rate is closer to 30-40 pounds to the galleon. It fluctuated with the price of gold. This means his gifts were around 350 pounds in value. His confusion on the currency exchange is covered in Casting Shadows. I never liked the 1 galleon for every five pounds. By that conversion, a magic wand, something only a true master could craft and was critical to casting and using magic cost only seven galleons. Thirty-five pounds. And that was from a master enchanter and genius of wand lore like Ollivander. Also, the Weasleys could barely afford wands for their kids and frequently just supplied hand-me-down wands… With my conversion of 30-40 pounds to the galleon, I'm saying a wand costs about 245 pounds. Even this seems a little cheap, given the importance and skill of craftsmanship required. But I'll discuss this in more depth in a future 'world building' section. In my stories, wands come with strings attached.
Originally, I planned to make the funeral and reception an explosive affair. Harry would vent a bit and call out the hypocrites. But, it's a funeral and a reception after a funeral. That just doesn't fit. I remember when my own grandfather died. My grandmother had people come by that she truly despised, but she was painfully polite. So, the funeral and reception are just steppingstones in the story and show how much Harry had grown in the past year. FWIW, year six will be Harry's rebellious year. So, if that's what you want to see, it's coming.
Harry is relying more on the insight the incarnations of his parents give him. He values Bill and Andromeda, but he feels the need to stand on his own and do right by Sirius. After the 'Anger' step in grief, there's 'Negotiation'. If he fulfils his role as Lord Black, he will have made Sirius proud… wherever he is. Maybe that will make everything better… Yep. He's working through the steps. He's also 15 and beginning to feel an independent streak emerge.
For those of you who don't know, 'Boxing Day' was is the day after Christmas. Originally it was the day when Lords and Aristocrats distributed 'Christmas Boxes' to their household servants or employees. These boxes contained small gifts or money – a Christmas bonus. Frequently, these employees had to work on Christmas, so they were rewarded the day after Christmas. Now days, it is just a day for watching sports, shopping, and visiting friends.