The Green in the Grey

by TheBlack'sResurgence

A prophecy left unfulfilled, a family torn apart by repercussions of war and one child left to a life of neglect. But there were those not content to allow this to pass. Harry Potter may have been abandoned at the end of the war but he will rise to be more than any could have imagined. Minimal bashing, rated M for violence etc. Harry/Tonks, James/Lily Main plot begins GOF

20. Black Be Thy Name

Chapter 20: Black Be Thy Name

Apologies for the delay in getting this out to you. School is in so that means I am back to work but I'm managing to get writing done. A few more chapters on this and it will be story number three complete.

Anyway, please do follow favourite and review, you amazing people.

TBR

For the umpteenth time, he adjusted his tie in front of the mirror before wrenching it from his neck and depositing on the ground. Dragging his hands through his hair, he released a breath of frustration, his inability to complete the simple task getting the better of his temperament. The morning thus far had been one annoyance after the other and the tie was the final straw. He knew not how much longer he could maintain the façade of composure.

"Let me help," the voice of Tonks broke into his thoughts, calming him slightly.

He gave her a grateful smile as she reached down and placed it around his upturned collar.

"And where did you learn to tie a tie, Miss Tonks?" he asked.

"I used to help my dad with his," she answered, the tip of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she focused on the job at hand. "There, all done."

Harry admired her work in the mirror, her effort proving to be much better than any of his own. In his reflection, she was stood behind him, a smug grin plastered across her face causing him to shake his head.

"Thank you," he offered genuinely. "You look as beautiful as always."

The woman flushed under his praise, her eyes drifting awkwardly towards the floor. She was wearing a black dress, which was unusual for her who preferred the comfort of jeans and a t shirt on most days. Her hair had been coloured a deep red, her eyes blue and her figure a little lither than her natural form. To him, it mattered not what she wore or how she looked. She would always be beautiful, would always be just Dora.

"Flattery will only get you so far," she replied, recovering from her timidity.

Harry snorted slightly causing her to raise an eyebrow in his direction.

"Something to say?" she questioned threateningly.

Harry chuckled and Tonks pouted.

"You know, your threats don't really work. How many times have you tried to draw your wand on me?"

"I'll get you, one day," she grumbled.

"Maybe," Harry shrugged, "but today isn't that day."

Tonks narrowed her eyes at him before huffing and leaving the room, her nose turned up in the air.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Somewhere where my prowess with a wand is appreciated."

Harry followed her quickly, reaching the stairs when she was halfway down. "I do appreciate your prowess with a wand," he called.

She ignored him and he continued following her, cursing under his breath. He was two steps shy of the bottom when a loud squeal sounded followed by a crash. Flicking his wand into his hand, he rushed around the corner to see Tonks sprawled across the ground in front of the kitchen door.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he reached her, offering his hand to help her to her feet.

"The bloody troll foot tripped me up," she accused, glaring at the offending object.

Harry frowned.

"It's a troll foot," he deadpanned.

"It tripped me up," Tonks growled.

Harry stared at the umbrella stand, fighting his urge to laugh. The thing was where it had always been. As distasteful as it was, it was not cursed or charmed in any way. Sirius had seen to that personally.

"What the hell was all that racket?" Sirius questioned as the kitchen door opened. He too apparently was having issues with his tie as he was attempting to make it look presentable. He seemed to be having little success as he growled at the garment.

"Apparently, the troll foot tripped her."

"It did," Tonks insisted.

Sirius stilled his attempt to knot the fabric around his neck before releasing a bark of laughter, falling silent quickly as a wand was pressed under his chin.

"Keep laughing, mutt," Tonks warned.

"She's fast," he muttered.

Harry nodded his agreement.

"See, I told you I admire your wand work."

His father's eyes lit up, an inappropriate quip ready to be unleashed upon the duo. Evidently, he thought better of it as he deflated, the wand of his cousin still primed for use and his son shaking his head as a warning of his own.

"Fine," he sighed as he returned to the kitchen with Harry and Tonks in tow.

"What on Earth was all that?" Arcturus demanded as they entered.

"Harry was just admiring her skill with a wand," Sirius answered before either of them could explain.

Again, his eyes were alight with mirth, pleased that he was able to make some semblance of the filthy humour he was well known for. Harry again shook his head as Tonks' hair briefly flashed a much brighter red.

"So long as he's not admiring it around me, I couldn't care less," Arcturus returned evenly.

Sirius burst into peals of laughter as both Harry and Tonks were horrified by the older man's comment. Cassiopeia shot her brother a look of disapproval before firing a stinging hex at Sirius, sobering the man immediately.

"Really, Arcturus? Stooping to his level."

Arcturus merely shrugged, cracking a rare grin as he winked at Harry.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Harry nodded.

"As ready as can be," he sighed.

"It will be fine," Arcturus assured him. "The Potters know to play along and Tom would not be so foolish to attack. Not after Azkaban."

Harry smirked slightly, his plan having gone as well as could be at the prison.

The prophet had reported the breakout of the prisoners the following morning with the Ministry coming off as incompetent. Scrimgeour had no answers for what had happened, only several bodies of Death Eaters floating through the lower levels of the prison that was no longer fit for purpose. According to the interim Minister, the current inmates would be moved to an undisclosed location whilst Azkaban was repaired. The only downside to what had happened was that Leo was unaccounted for and had been labelled a wanted man. Scrimgeour would not listen to the consensus of the populace who were still firmly supportive of the boy, his actions throughout his time in Britain having made him more popular than expected.

Currently, he was resting and likely asleep as he had been for the most part of the three days that had passed since his return. He only woke to eat before falling into a slumber again, his emaciated body needing rest from his experience. Cassie had personally tended his wounds and was seldom away from him, doing everything she could to aide his recovery.

Bellatrix was a different story altogether. She had been furious when she woke, barely eaten and spat curses at Sirius whenever he would check on her. Harry knew he would have to speak to the woman soon but not until after his brother had been buried and it was not something he was looking forward to. As the prospective next head of house, it was his responsibility to ensure she was as well as could be, though she would get no special treatment from him. Her past actions were not to be dismissed so easily. If he had his way, she would be cast out of the family in due course and he would hand her back to the ministry at the earliest possible opportunity, but not until Tom had been dealt with. He would not risk such a threat to the public and the Dark Lord would certainly do all he could to have the woman returned to his service.

Shaking his head, he checked the clock on the kitchen wall, a rather unpleasant construct made of bones of which the origin was unknown.

"It's time," he announced to his family.

The mood immediately became sombre, the occasion to come by no means shaping up to be a pleasant experience. Harry had never attended a wizarding funeral, his only experience being a muggle one he had been forced to attend whilst living with the Dursleys. He doubted that there would be much difference and he had no interest in the ceremony. It was nothing more than a spectacle to witness the body of his brother be put to rest, his final goodbye having been made to the boy himself.

He felt a hand wrap around his own, offering a comforting squeeze and he looked u to see Tonks staring at him with concern.

"I'm okay," he assured her.

He had shared the story of what had happened with the stone and the apparent resurrection of his brother. She had been rather perturbed by the entire ordeal but had been happy with him, supportive and pleased he'd been able to have closure. She didn't truly understand it, if truth be told, he didn't either and the Hallow had rested in his draw since that night. Perhaps he would find further use for it in the future, but until then, he would leave it be. It would not do to dwell on those gone by when those he cared for were with him here and now.

"Are you expecting trouble?" Cassie questioned. She would not be attending the funeral having volunteered to watch over their latest prisoner, Crouch and Leo in their absence.

"Unlikely," Arcturus answered, "but stay alert. It would be foolish to be lax."

"And what about Barty, shall he be with us for much longer?"

Arcturus shrugged noncommittedly.

"I'd kill him if the Ministry wasn't aware we had him," he muttered. "I've gotten everything useful from the shit."

"I can take him in or leave him somewhere the aurors would find him?" Tonks suggested.

"No need to involve yourself, Nymphadora. I appreciate the offer but I will see to it," he replied. "Are we all aware of where we are going?"

"Godric's Hollow," Harry replied.

Arcturus nodded before disappearing with a gentle pop, followed shortly by Harry, Tonks and Sirius.

They arrived in front of a churchyard that was full to the brim of an assortment of witches and wizards here to pay their respects to the-boy-who-lived. Harry chastised himself internally. He had forgotten just how famous his brother had been and evidently admired by wizarding Britain.

Ignoring the stares that followed him when people became aware of his presence, the group worked their way through the crowd and Harry was grateful none attempted to offer their condolences. Many eyed him with awe and some equally warily, most likely not having expected him to be in attendance. It mattered not. He was here for one reason only and it certainly had nothing to do with the looks of adoration and hope that followed him as he made his way to the front of the church.

Reaching the large oak doors, he was greeted by the sight of James and Lily Potter, the former giving him an almost imperceptible nod in greeting as agreed upon. Were their plan to succeed, it was essential that there appeared to be a rift between them, that no accord had been reached. He returned the gesture, a sad smile gracing his lips as Lily took in his appearance.

He had replied to her letter, candidly and with honesty. He'd explained that it was unlikely that forgiveness could ever granted entirely but he was willing to get to know them for who they were and not the demons he had painted of them in his mind. He had extended an olive branch, a chance, though he could promise them no more than that.

After only a moment after they had arrived, the church bell sounded the eleventh hour and Harry along with his own entourage followed the crowd entering the building, led by the Potters to a rather dreary, yet fitting song played on an organ.

The three Blacks along with Tonks managed to secure seats on one of the front rows and waited for the service to resume. Whilst the church was idle, Harry couldn't help but glance around to see just who it was that had attended. He hadn't expected such a large turnout after all.

To his left, he spotted several crops of red hair indicating that the Weasleys were here, amongst them a familiar bushy brown also. He should have expected that both Ron and Hermione would not miss this. Charlie was part of the trio now reduced to two. He felt for them just as much as he did James and Lily. From what he had learnt, they had been with Charlie from his first year of schooling, the three infamously inseparable.

Only a short distance away sat many members of the Hogwarts staff, Dumbledore and McGonagall the two he was most familiar with and leaning against the wall at the end of the row clutching a handkerchief likely the size of a bed sheet was Hagrid, his red eyes visible from where Harry was sitting. The man was much gentler than his large frame would suggest apparently.

Spread throughout the rest of the room was a plethora of people he did not recognise, some draped in the red robes of aurors and others swathed in ones donned for occasions such as this. In amongst them, he noticed several fingers adorned with head of house rings, even the upper echelons of society having deemed the spectacle worthy of their time.

He snorted as he shook his head.

He doubted most here had ever even met Charlie nor had much to do with the Potters. It wasn't his place to ponder such a thing, however. He himself had not long been reacquainted with his brother, much to his regret.

Thinking of the boy once more, he faced the front of the room where a black coffin rested and waited for the ceremony to begin, aware of a hand resting on his own.

After what felt like hours but was likely a few minutes, an elderly, black robed man approached a podium and addressed the room. Harry's eyes remained focused on the coffin, uninterested in what a man who did not know his brother had to say. Instead, he remembered the time they had spent together, as few as they were compared to what should have been. He remembered trying to feed him when he himself was barely capable of holding the baby securely enough to do so. Consequently, both had been covered in milk, much to the amusement of James and Lily.

His thoughts continued up until his final moments in the graveyard. Charlie had grown during the year, his confidence increasing just as much as his ability. He began to smile more, his demeanour often cheerful rather than dour or melancholic. It warmed Harry to think of him this way and saddened him equally. His brother had only just begun to find himself before his life was ended.

He swallowed deeply, fighting off the overwhelming sadness that threatened to overwhelm him. He had done his crying and he had grieved for his brother. By a miracle of magic, he had even said his goodbyes. The time for tears had passed. Now, he had to concentrate on what was to come. Dwelling on what can no longer be changed would be neither productive nor what Charlie would have wanted.

His reverie was broken by the sound of music playing once again and those seated within the room rose to their feet as the coffin was carried out by several wizards dressed similarly to the man that had delivered the service, the crowd following in their wake.

They left the church and the grounds, again ignoring the following stares. The next part of the service would be conducted privately, only those of the Potter family allowed to enter the final resting place of those bearing their name.

When they were out of sight, Harry gave the others a nod before disappearing silently, appearing amongst a collection of marked graves, many dwarfed by statues befitting the status of those that had been buried here. The area was peaceful, the lawn well-kept and copse of elder trees surrounding the sight. It was a rather beautiful place of serenity that Charlie would rest in. Just a short distance away was James and Lily, the pair having been granted the desired privacy to carry out the final part of the ceremony, both seemingly pleased to see him.

"Apologies for the secrecy," he offered as he reached them.

"We understand," James assured him. "If our plan is to work, it must be this way for now."

Harry nodded, looking amongst the various tombstones around them.

"Quite the legacy many of these people have left," James declared, breaking into Harry's observations. "Your great-great grandfather, a revered hit-wizard and duellist," he explained pointing towards a gravestone to their left. "My own father," he continued much quieter, "the most wonderful man you would ever meet. Formidable to those that threatened his family but I couldn't have asked for better."

Lily rubbed his forearm comfortingly. The loss of his father had evidently hit James Potter very hard.

"Had he been alive, Dumbledore would never have gotten close to us. He despised the headmaster."

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. He assumed that all the Potters had been aligned with the light. It was the impression they gave off after all.

"He hated Dumbledore?" he questioned.

James snorted.

"I remember many times he openly insulted him. I thought he was jealous but it turns out he had no reason to be. My father was a hundred times the man that old fossil could ever be."

Lily nodded her agreement.

"I don't think he endeared himself to Dumbledore by marrying a Black either," she added with a watery chuckle. "Losing the Potter votes in the wizengamot was quite a blow, I suppose."

Again, Harry found himself surprised by that information. Out of respect of simply not wanting to upset him, none of the Blacks ever spoke of the Potters when he was around, especially when he was younger. He'd only recently become aware of the family tree at Grimmauld Place and had not paid much mind to it. It was something he would have to investigate when he had the chance.

"So, how did Dumbledore become so involved with you?" he asked curiously.

James released a deep sigh.

"My parents died just before seventh year at Hogwarts and Dumbledore took me under his wing, taught me how to be a respectable lord. I suppose that was all a manipulation to get us back on side. I was naïve, stupid even and lapped it all up. The greatest wizard in recent memory helping out a poor orphan who didn't understand how the world worked." He snorted derisively. "It sickens me how I fell for it all. My father would be ashamed of me."

Hearing the man speak helped Harry understand his failings much more. James Potter had his life turned around in the most unfortunate of ways, had been taken advantage of a man out for his own gain and put too much trust in him. Dumbledore had looked out for only his own interest and gave no consideration to James or the Potter traditions. Harry couldn't help but agree, his grandfather would probably be disappointed but if he was anything as James described, he wouldn't hold a grudge, he would do all he could to help the man right his wrongs.

"Well, I think James Potter, the Minister that helped put an end to Lord Voldemort would certainly up his opinion," he offered.

James laughed unwittingly.

"It's a start," he conceded. His demeanour grew serious as he looked upon the teen. "You remind me of him a lot, my father. Protective of your family with a sharp mind and sharper wand. He would have loved you."

Harry found himself smiling at the words.

"From the sounds of it, you're a lot like him too," he replied. "Despite all your mistakes."

James nodded gratefully.

"Maybe," he shrugged. "I have a lot more to do before I can even compare."

It was not said with self-deprecation but laced with determination. The man stared hard at the grave of his father, his eyes boring into the name of Charlus Potter, a silent declaration seemingly being made. Eventually, he slumped slightly.

"That is for later," he whispered. "We're not here for a trip down memory lane or anything of the sort. We have to bury our son."

Harry shifted his attention to the coffin behind them, the reason that they were gathered here. As interesting as the history lesson was, it was neither the time nor place for such. It was time to put an end to the final chapter of the life of Charlie Potter.

James was the first to return to the coffin, his hand resting on the hard wood as he closed his eyes, his lips moving in silent words between him and the boy passed on. After a few moments, his lips ceased and his hand fell to his side as he released a deep breath, nodding for Lily to say her final piece. She too graced the wood with the touch of her hand though her face was unmoving, her eyes closed tightly against the strain of tears threatening to fall. She spent longer than James and Harry suspected it was to delay the inevitable but for a moment longer more than her having further contemplations.

Eventually, she too stepped away from the coffin albeit reluctantly and immediately sought comfort in the arms of her husband, the loss she was experiencing evident by the tears that fell free, unashamedly.

Harry soon took her place, his hand resting upon the lid. Mentally he was tired, the past days having revolved around this very moment. Burying his brother had once seemed so daunting but now much more a relief. It was no selfish desire to be done with the occasion that elicited such a feeling but the need for closure, the need for his brother to finally be at peace.

With a shake of his head, his hand glided across the top of the wood before falling limply to his side, just as it had with James. Turning to the pair, the seemed to have composed themselves somewhat, ready to carry out the final duty of the ceremony.

"Together?" James questioned.

Harry nodded his agreement as he drew his wand, the Potters doing the same, each pointing it towards the coffin. In a silent, combined effort, it rose gently from the ground before it was guided into the large hole that had been carved for this purpose. After a few muttered spells by James, the coffin vanished from view, covered by a neat bedding of white stone.

"I think we need to be alone for a while before facing them again," he whispered, his arm firmly around the shoulders of his wife.

Harry nodded his understanding.

"Will you be there?" Lily asked almost nervously.

"I will," Harry returned, his eyes firmly on the headstone of his brother.

He listened to the retreating footsteps of James and Lily Potter as they left him alone in the graveyard, relieved that the funeral was now officially over. Again, he shook his head as his attention shifted to the script that had been engraved into the headstone.

Charlus 'Charlie' Potter

30/07/1980 – 24/06/1995

A True Potter, Until the Very End

An unwitting smile pulled at Harry's lips as he read. For the longest time, he thought that being a true Potter was what James and Lily had presented to him. If being a true Potter was what Charlie did and stood for, they had certainly gone up in his estimation.

(BREAK)

Hogwarts was not somewhere he expected to be visiting again so soon after departing somewhat hurriedly the last time he was within the castle. Apart of him was glad to be back, the familiar smell of the Great Hall stirring many youthful memories of times long past within the formerly disgraced Black. Sirius had spent some of his best years here with James, Remus and even Peter, each now lost to him in some way. The rat had proven himself a traitor and coward, the werewolf, Dumbledore's man through and through and James something of an enigma. He could never entirely forgive Prongs for his part in Harry's fate.

"I never thought I'd see Sirius Black brooding," a feminine voice broke into his thoughts.

The man turned, his mouth forming into a hard line as he took in the appearance of Amelia Bones. He had nothing against her personally, had admired her for some time whilst at school, but the Ministry had not endeared themselves to him recently and Amelia was firmly a part of that.

"Bones," he greeted her stiffly.

"Oh, come now, Sirius. You can do better than that," she replied playfully.

Sirius shook his head, a grin threatening betray him. She was a stern woman at the best of times but had always revelled in teasing him. A teenage Sirius Black would come undone at the devilish side of Amelia Bones, the striking beauty that could also dismantle you with her wand with apparent ease if one were to push her. He had experienced this for himself on more than one occasion after all, seemingly proving himself a glutton for punishment. A more cynical and experienced Sirius Black fell not for such a thing. He was no longer the boy that would melt at the sight of a smile from the older woman.

"There's not so much to be happy about," he shrugged. "The Ministry is as incompetent as ever and it is my son that has suffered because of it. He has lost his brother and lost a friend and you lot seem to be doing all you can to blame him."

"That is not true," Amelia denied. "Cornelius acted on his own stupidity. He did not even consult me on what he was doing."

Sirius snorted.

"Fudge was always a bastard. Someone should have buried him years ago."

"Are you admitting you had something to do with his vanishing?" Amelia questioned with a raised eyebrow. "He's not the brightest man and I would have thought our best aurors would have found him by now. I'm finding it hard to believe that he fled at all, was dealt with more like."

Sirius frowned.

"The man had many enemies. The list of who would want him gone must be long."

"But none with more reason than your family and certainly none who would show the temerity and tenacity to do it," she countered.

Sirius shrugged again.

"Unless you are arresting me for it, I have nothing to say. I can assure you though, you would be wasting your time. I had nothing to do with it and neither did any member of my family. We are no longer welcome in Britain if you remember."

Amelia sighed, shaking her head.

"I don't believe for one moment it was you," she replied. "Despite everything, you're not like the rest of your family. You were a bloody nuisance but not cruel."

Sirius chuckled darkly.

"Things change. People change," he returned. "Believe me, Bones, if I felt my son was in danger, I would burn the Ministry to the ground with all of you in it. But then again, he would likely do it himself," he finished, nodding in the direction of Harry who had entered the room and was now sitting with Arcturus a short distance away.

"I saw the memory," Amelia sighed. "He is quite something, your son."

"He's amazing," Sirius said proudly. "I couldn't wish for anything more from him."

Amelia smiled at the warmth exuding from the man. Had anyone told her Sirius Black would prove to be such a good father, she never would have believed it. He himself had been determined to remain a child for a long as he can.

"I'd like to meet him," she announced, not waiting for an invitation as she began walking towards where the boy was sat with the much-feared lord of his family. Her steps paused briefly however as Rufus arrived first and began conversing with the teen. Cursing under her breath, she quickened her pace not wanting to miss the interaction.

"So, you're the one who will be granting Lord Whelan a pardon?" Harry Black addressed the man as she came within earshot of the conversation.

"It is not as simple as that," Rufus denied.

"Then we have nothing to say to each other, Interim minister Scrimgeour," Harry bit back scathingly. "Until you do the right thing, you will keep your distance."

Rufus was undeterred as he stood at his full height.

"You have a duty to your country," he growled. "You will play your part."

It felt as though the temperature dropped considerably as the boy closed his eyes before slowly pushing himself to his feet. Amelia put her hand on her wand, ready to defend her foolish boss. The man had never been the most tactful and now it seemed that such a lack would come back to bite him. Her own eyes widened as the flaring green orbs of the youngest Black became visible, her grip tightening as he towered over Rufus who would come to regret his course of action.

"I have no duty to Britain," Harry whispered. "Ever since I came here my life has been fucked up time and time again. I was entered into a tournament against my will, my brother was murdered by a Dark Lord that you can't handle and my friend imprisoned wrongly. Today is the day of my brother's funeral and you dare come here trying to tell me of my responsibilities? Fuck off, Scrimgeour."

"Now is not the time, Rufus," Amelia chastised.

The man seemed to think better of arguing with the woman who was giving him a glare of her own. With a shake of his shaggy head, he thankfully walked away from the confrontation leaving Amelia to placate the family. Arcturus wore a look of amusement and Sirius was seething at the audacity of the current minister.

"I apologise for Rufus. He is under a lot of pressure," she tried to defend the man.

Harry turned his gaze towards her, the emerald colour of his eyes unnerving her.

"Madame Bones," he greeted her surprisingly cordially. "Dora speaks very highly of you. It's a shame your boss is such a wanker."

"Rufus…is not one for games," she sighed. "He's a very driven and pragmatic man."

"He's proven himself to be an idiot since he took office and incompetent at best. Azkaban has fallen, attacks are increasing and he's failing to do anything worthy of protecting the British population," Harry reeled off.

"He's doing his best. The Dark Lord is a very dangerous man."

Harry snorted.

"The Dark Lord is an egotistical child with a superiority complex. Dangerous, yes, but not invincible. I don't see why you haven't just sent the whole auror force after him and wiped him off the face off the earth. Even he cannot block that many killing curses."

Amelia raised an eyebrow at the teen. It seemed as though Rufus was not the only pragmatic one.

"If only it were that simple," she huffed. "Many times during the last war we tried just that. He is an exceedingly gifted wizard and has foiled every attempt by either killing several of our own or fleeing if it were to his advantage."

"Yeah, he does that," Harry conceded. "What is it Scrimgeour wants with me?"

Amelia sighed.

"He wants it to appear that you are working with the Ministry to put an end to the Dark Lord. He seems to think people will take comfort knowing you are on side and helping."

"He wants a poster boy?" Sirius interjected as Harry laughed to himself.

"I advised against it," Amelia explained.

"You were right to. No offense, but I will not work with the Ministry in any capacity until Leo Whelan gets his pardon. Even then, it is unlikely."

Amelia nodded her understanding. The boy was proving himself to be rather interesting and she could see why Tonks would become enamoured with him. He was undoubtedly a very gifted wizard, likely the most of his generation from what she had seen so far and there was no denying he had inherited the aesthetics of the Blacks, though she could still see a considerable amount of Potter in him. That along with the fact he was due to become the next Lord Black would make him desirable to most, particularly the purebloods. Her eyes shifted to the man he looked up to as his father. She too had such thoughts of Sirius when she had been younger. Though a few years her junior, he had been very handsome if immature for her more driven personality. It would have been a good match and not one she would have been upset by had her father pursued such a thing. The man had died before even the subject of her marriage could be broached. As such, Amelia Bones had never been inclined to marry and now it was only her and her niece left since the last war. Her family had been decimated at the hands of the Death Eaters, more than most.

"I'm sure Rufus will see sense, eventually," she offered. "I will not do the disservice of asking if he has contacted you. I will, however, have to insist on Barty Crouch being returned to my custody."

"I will have him with you by the morning," Arcturus assured her. "He's become rather the burden and is beginning to test my patience."

Amelia nodded appreciatively. Were it any other than the Blacks that had taken him, she would have pressed the issue much sooner. Had she done so, it would be more likely she would never see the man again with them denying any involvement and leaving no evidence to follow.

"Thank you," she answered gratefully.

Any reply or further conversation was cut short as James Potter stood upon the dais usually reserved for the school staff and fired off a bang from his wand, loud enough to garner the attention of those within the hall.

"I wanted to begin by thanking all of you for coming today. Charlie would be surprised and humbled by the showing, so again, I thank you."

A gentle round of applause sounded, courtesy of those present, some egos having been stroked and others simply appreciating the sentiment, having not forgotten the sacrifices of the Potter family, forced upon them by the fall of the Dark Lord. There family had been torn asunder and Charlie having suffered considerably.

"Although we are here to say goodbye to my son, the reason for his passing must be addressed," James continued.

A smatter of muttering could be heard at his statement with many shuffling in discomfort.

Undeterred, James' gaze swept across the room before he spoke once more, his voice quieter but heard no less.

"Charlie was murdered by Voldemort. You may not want to believe he is back, but the evidence is there. Azkaban has fallen, witches, wizards and muggles alike are being killed indiscriminately as they were thirteen years ago. The Dark Mark has been seen darkening our skies."

"What would you have us do, Potter?" a voice spoke up.

Harry's eyes snapped towards the man, his son and fellow competitor sat next to him, his leg still heavily bandaged.

"Well, Mr Diggory, I would not have us holed up in our houses cowering behind wards that won't keep a determined Dark Lord out. My own home was under the Fidelius when he attacked, and he still made it in," James explained. "Bagnold proved herself to be incompetent during the last war and the Ministry is not exactly filling me with confidence this time around either."

"So, this is another ploy by the light side to have Dumbledore installed as Minister?" an angry voice accused.

James shook his head.

"Dumbledore doesn't have the guts to do what needs to be done."

"Who is it you would suggest, Potter?" Arcturus questioned, the disdain in his voice evident.

"Me," James answered simply. "None of you can deny that I have more reason than any to want the Dark Lord gone. Just as none of you can deny that I will do whatever is necessary to see it done."

There were many a murmured agreement and James held his hands up to silence the room.

"I can think of no better way to honour the memory of my son by putting an end to the man that killed him. I will be putting myself forward for the role of Minister in the coming days and hope I can count on the support of those that want to see an end to Voldemort, once and for all"

With his final words ringing in the ears of the guests, he took his seat and immediately empty a glass of firewhiskey as the crowd slowly emerged from their stupor, many surprised by the declaration but very few able to find reason to oppose it.

"Well, that was interesting," Amelia mused aloud. "Rufus does not seem to be pleased."

Harry shifted his focus to the man, almost amused by how purple with rage he had flushed. Already, he disliked Scrimgeour. There was just something so very disingenuous about him.

Forgoing wasting his time pondering the current interim minister, he gave James a subtle nod of approval. Despite his feelings towards him, the speech he gave was rather impressive. He used just enough personal justification and had given the people what they sorely needed, even if they would not admit that was the case. For them, they needed someone like James Potter to lead the charge against Tom. Harry merely needed him to allow his own continuing the pursuit of justice and vengeance. If James were to successfully take office, it could only prove to be a boon for him.

(BREAK)

The Dark Lord paced back and forth within the chambers he had been given at Malfoy Manor. Had Harry Potter not destroyed his ancestral home, he would have sought shelter there, a place that he had control of the wards and was not constantly interrupted by Lucius and his foolish spawn.

The reason for his current demeanour was simple. The funeral of Charlie Potter was taking place and he had no way in which he could offer his own parting gift to the boy that had been labelled his greatest threat. Lord Voldemort scoffed at the thought. The boy had proven to be no threat to him but certainly his greatest mistake in life. He wanted nothing more than to bid farewell to his adversary in the only way he knew, but it was not to be. He had very little at his disposal, relying on the charity of his staunchest supporters.

He grimaced at the thought.

He'd expected to rise from the ashes of his demise, right the wrongs that had occurred and pick up his cause where he had left it. Again, such a thing had not happened. Nothing had gone in his favour and there was only one person to blame. Harry Potter. The meddlesome older brother of the boy who had been declared hero, the one who had brought the downfall of the greatest Dark Lord to emerge in living memory. It had been the forgotten child that had proven to be much more than expected thus far.

To Lord Voldemort, the mere fact that he continued to dare to breathe was the utmost insult, an insult that would be dealt with accordingly.

His jaw tightened as he ground his teeth.

As much as he wanted to punish the boy for his interference, he was in no position to do so. Not only was he hiding under the formidable wards of the Blacks, he himself did not have the resources to do so. Oh, he was certainly doing all he could to bring as many to his cause as possible, the process, however, was progressing painfully slow. According to Lucius, very few were willing to risk their positions as they once had, the reputations that had been left in tatters for their support of him in the last war barely worthy of the titles they carried.

"Cowards," he muttered internally.

They too would learn what happens to those that do not give the Dark Lord what he wants, they too would suffer the consequences, when the time was right. For now, he needed to use the same charisma and charm he'd once employed whilst dealing with these fools so many years ago.

If that were to fail, he had other ways to convince them. He always had other ways.

Potter may have gotten the better of him thus far, but the setbacks were only temporary.

The Dark Lord had risen, against all odds, he had returned, and Harry Potter would soon learn that crossing him was folly, that it ended only in one way. Before long, he would join his weak brother in death and those so foolish to question his power would fall to their knees and press their lips to the hem of his robes, the way that all who find themselves in his presence should.

(BREAK)

The chatter throughout the room had shifted to the topic of James Potter's announcing his intention to run for Minister of Magic, many surprised by the turn of events and many commenting on the merit of the man. There was no denying that he, above any, would want to see to the end of the Dark Lord. That could certainly not be questioned.

"Rufus really is unhappy," the voice of Amelia Bones broke into his thoughts.

Sirius looked towards the dais where the current minister could be seen having a furious conversation with James Potter, the former again purpled with apparent rage and the latter seemingly bored and dismissive of the ranting being aimed at him. If Sirius knew anything about James, it was that once his mind was set on something, he would not give up until he had it. One only had to look at how long he had pursued Lily during their schooling years to understand the drive he possessed. Sirius, however, found himself uncaring at best to whom would take the mantle of Minister and he found himself shrugging in such manner.

"So long as whoever takes office leaves my family alone, I couldn't give a Hippogriff's shit who it is."

Amelia shook her head in amusement.

"You always did have such a way with words," she sighed mockingly.

Sirius found a smirk pulling at his lips.

"They never worked on you, Bones. You were far too prudish to fall for my charm."

Amelia narrowed her eyes at him, his grin making it difficult for her to be so irritated with the man.

"Oh, I was never a prude. I just had more respect for myself than to let little Sirius Black have his way with me and brag to the other Marauders."

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly at the mention of the name of himself and his teenage friends.

"We all grow up eventually," he defended.

Amelia raised a delicate brow before conceding the point with a nod.

"True. Usually by now you would have asked about what underwear I was wearing and if I needed it inspecting."

Sirius chuckled.

"That line worked more than you would believe."

"Hmm, I suppose you were rather charming in your own way," she replied. "You may well need it. The chief warlock seems to be heading over here and it doesn't look as though it is me he wishes to speak with."

Sirius grimaced as Amelia turned away, the smell of lemon sherbets wafting under his sensitive nose. With a sigh, he faced the headmaster who had his usual benevolent smile in place along with those twinkling eyes.

"Ahh, Sirius, I was hoping we could have a chat," Dumbledore greeted him, ignoring the frown marring the younger man's features.

"Can this not wait?" Sirius huffed irritably.

"Perhaps, but contacting you has proven to be all but impossible these past days. I fear that you have taken residence where missives are not very welcome. I daresay even Fawkes has been frustrated by his inability to locate you."

"It's good to know the wards are working as intended," Sirius bit back.

Dumbledore nodded appreciatively, scrutinising the younger man over his half-moon spectacles.

"I would like you to consider taking up the post of professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

Sirius snorted in surprise at the request.

"You must be joking."

"I can assure you, I am, as you yourself would often say, serious."

"After everything that has happened, you expect me to work for you. What's your game, Dumbledore?"

The older man held up a hand to placate the anger of the younger.

"I am, before anything, headmaster of this school. It is my responsibility to ensure my students have the best instruction at their disposal. Are you denying that you wouldn't make a more than exceptional professor?"

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. Defence had always been one of his best subjects, something he would consider himself more than adept in. His years as a hit-wizard could attest to his ability and his knowledge of curses, counter curses and such could be matched by very few. He was a Black after all and the Dark Arts where their forte. Before he could deny the man, Dumbledore spoke once more.

"I understand that you have no wish to join the order. Despite what you think of me, this is purely for the benefit of the students here, nothing more. I have no intention of prying into your life or that of your family business. This is nothing other than a headmaster attempting to secure excellent education for his students."

Again, Sirius shook his head, unable to articulate his thoughts.

"Consider it, Sirius," Dumbledore urged. "Please do let me know your decision at your earliest convenience."

With his final words spoken, the headmaster took his leave with Sirius only able to stare after him dumbly. Of all the things the man could have discussed, he offered him a job, as unbelievable as it seemed.

"For what it's worth, Sirius, I think you would make a fine Defence professor," Amelia chipped in having heard the conversation between himself and Dumbledore.

"You always were a nosy bint, Bones," he huffed.

Amelia grinned.

"How do you think I rose so high in my profession," she returned with a wink.

Sirius rolled his eyes. The past fifteen minutes were ones that had left him feeling confused and with the beginnings of a headache setting in. Bones had sapped enough of his energy and Dumbledore even more so.

He knew not what to do about the offer. He wanted to dismiss it out of hand, having no desire to work with the man that had caused a plethora of problems for him so many years ago. For some reason, he had stilled. Harry no longer needed him as he once had and that had left him with a lot of time on his hands. He'd not really considered becoming an educator seriously before but it certainly held considerable appeal.

For one, he would feel as though he was serving a purpose once more and not stagnating as he had felt these past months.

He shrugged as he took a sip of his firewhiskey. Perhaps it was something to consider after all. He knew the castle, was rather fond of the place, more so than Grimmauld Place certainly. With a sigh, he emptied the glass and decided he needed to sleep before even contemplating it. It was all too sudden to make any decisions without clarity and without discussing with those that mattered most. He had no doubt that Harry would be supportive if it was what he decided he wanted. The problem was, he couldn't be sure himself just if it was.

(BREAK)

He'd managed to slip away from the castle with none being the wiser, too engrossed on discussing who would be named as the permanent next Minister as they were. For a while, he wandered aimlessly throughout the grounds, barely avoiding a flailing branch of the Whomping Willow as he ventured a little too close to the violent tree. Why such a thing would be placed in a school full of children was beyond reason if one was not privy to its' origins. His father had told him it had been placed there for when Lupin experienced his monthly transformation, so its' presence was not such a ridiculous notion. It would certainly be preferable to be lashed by a branch than mauled by a werewolf.

He frowned as he remembered just what was on the other side of the tunnel, a very easy way to access the school that had seemingly been left unchecked for over two decades. Flicking his wand into his hand, he sent a spell at the large knot at the bottom of the trunk, stilling the swaying limbs.

The hole near the roots was a tight fit, but he managed to squeeze himself through all the same and worked his way through the tunnel, eventually reaching a trap door that would take him inside the Shrieking Shack. The hinges creaked and the heavy wood displaced a considerable cloud of dust as it crashed open, the floor groaning in protest at the impact.

None had been here for some time, though the walls and floor were littered with claw marks, furniture destroyed by the creature that had been housed here, the gouges deep. Harry ran his finger down a particularly prominent one, shaking his head.

He didn't know Lupin well at all, but it was clear his transformations were deeply unpleasant. Turning away from the debris and damage, he reached the front door in only a few strides, the shack being rather small in size and aimed his wand towards the handle.

Hissing under his breath, he began casting some wards, nothing lethal but nothing pleasant either. If any were to disturb the inside of the building, they would find themselves in considerable pain and incapacitated, unable to move until he decided it was convenient for him to retrieve them. He doubted Tom himself would fall for such a thing but there would certainly be those that would. Tom was an exceptional wizard unlike most of the sycophants that worshipped him. More than a few of them would be unable to detect the protections he had put in place.

For the life of him, he could not understand why Dumbledore had not already put his own layer of protections over the place already. It was a vulnerability that was simply unacceptable. It made him question, even more so, the competence of the revered man.

Shaking his head once more, he exited and closed the door behind him, locking it with a simple charm, his mind switching to just what had happened to Dora. She had not been at the school when he arrived, his grandfather informing that she had been called away. Not that it was his business, but he had hoped she would be there, her presence having been the only comfort of the day.

He sighed as he turned away from the door, shrugging at the whereabouts of the woman. Perhaps something had come up at work. If so, she would let him know as quickly as she could. It wasn't like her to simply disappear without explanation.

His feet carried him down the path away from the building so feared by the students, the hour of the day seeing the sun set as dusk began to set in on the late July evening. It would have been Charlie's birthday on the morrow, had he lived to see it and his own the following day. He wanted not to focus on such frivolity. There was little to celebrate other than reaching his majority, something his brother would never achieve, all thanks to Tom Riddle. His hand clenched in anger at the thought as he vanished with but a turn, his mind made up before consideration.

The Dark Lord may have been absent on the day Charlie had been put to rest, but Harry would allow the man no such peace. Today more than any, Tom needed a reminder of just what he had done, and if he couldn't make him pay in blood of his own, he would take it from one willing to draw it for a cause that would never come to fruition.

(BREAK)

It was a feeling he thought had abandoned him permanently that pulled him from his slumber with a gasp. Warmth. It was something that had become so distant, so foreign to him during his imprisonment, and now, it enveloped him, and he snuggled deeper into the thick duvet that had been wrapped around him for the past days.

He'd felt rotten the first time he had awoken, feverish, and cold, cold that seemed to have settled into every fibre of his being. He remembered a foul potion being forced down his throat, burning all the way down to his stomach as a familiar voice uttered comforting words in his ear. Not long after the burning began to abate, he fell into unconsciousness once more. The process was repeated more times than he could count in the sate he was in. It may have been only a day or could have been weeks, he knew not.

All he knew now was that he was warm and whatever concoction had been thrust upon him, had worked its' magic. He had not felt so well since before he had been taken to that cursed island.

"How're you feeling?" the voice of Cassie intruded into his thoughts.

His gaze shifted to her, his stomach sinking from guilt at her appearance. Heavy, dark circles had formed around her eyes and her skin had paled considerably. It was clear she had not slept in days.

"Aye, much better," he answered sadly, the smile she gave him doing nothing to alleviate the heartbreak he was feeling.

"Good," she whispered through unshed tears. "I really thought I might lose you there, you foolish boy."

"I'm sorry, Cass," he offered sincerely.

"I know," she returned, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, using the other to wipe at tired eyes.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"It's been a few days," she confessed. "I had to watch you, give you the potion every couple of hours and undo as much damage the Dementors did on your mind I could."

Leo gave her a grateful smile as he tightened his grip on her.

"I don't deserve you, Cass."

"No, you don't," she agreed with a frown. "But you got me and as much as I want to bloody well curse you, I think you've suffered enough."

Leo chuckled before sobering.

"I don't know where I would be without you. Maybe dead, prison or doing something I have no love for. I could never put into words how grateful I am that you took pity on a poor, Irish boy with no future."

Cassie shook her head as a tear finally broke free.

"Stupid boy," she choked. "You reminded me of someone I cared for deeply once. You are like him in so many ways, but so different in others. I never thought I could care for any other as much as I did him until you came along. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Leo."

The young man felt a lump form in his throat at the sentiment. He knew that deep down the woman cared for him to some extent. Had she not, he certainly would not have been graced with her presence in his life for so long.

"Who do I remind you of?" he asked.

"Gellert," Cassie answered, unashamedly. Seeing his look of annoyance, she continued. "He was an exceptional man, despite what he became. I was enthralled by him, as was any lucky enough to meet him. It was a shame he decided to pursue his foolish venture."

"Were you in love with him?"

Cassie almost cackled at the question.

"No. For the longest time I thought I was, but no. I cared for him as I do Arcturus. He was one of few that could hope to match me in the Mind Arts and I respected him for it. We were two of a similar mind, a similar ambition, though his proved to be his downfall. Gellert wanted to rule the world whereas I wanted to live in my own, away from where I would be forced to marry a man whom my father chose. It wasn't until Arcturus became the Lord Black that I felt I could come home and by then, Gellert had made his choice. He went to war and I returned. I never saw him again."

Leo felt saddened for the woman. The way in which the British purebloods treated the daughters of their families did not sit well with him.

"I'm sorry," he offered once more.

"You have nothing to apologise for. You have made an old woman the proudest she has ever felt and have done since the day I took you in. Don't get me wrong, there have been times I've wanted to wring your bloody neck, but I didn't. That should tell you all you need to know."

Leo nodded as a smile tugged at his lips. He stood, removing the duvet and pulled the woman to her feet and into his arms.

"I always wondered what my mother was like. She was taken from me before I even got to know her, but I somehow ended up with one. I know you didn't give birth to me, but I couldn't have asked for a better mother than you have been, Cassiopeia Black."

He felt the woman sniffle into his chest, so he did the only thing he could think of and held her tighter. For the longest time, this woman had cared for him, taught him and made sure he had everything he needed. She would write to him whilst he had been at school, insisted he came back to her during the holidays and had been there for him as any mother would. From the little he knew of the woman that had birthed him, she too would be grateful for Cassiopeia Black and all she had done for her son.

"Now, I think it is time you got some sleep," he whispered before placing a kiss on the top of her head.

Cassie nodded and Leo led her from the room to her own a few doors down the corridor. Helping her into bed, he pulled the duvet over her and tucked her in the same way she had for him over the years.

"You're still not well," she chastised.

"I am fine," he assured her. "As much as I wish I could lay in bed, there is another lady I have to go and see," he explained with a slight wince.

"I see how it is," Cassie sighed. "I'm being replaced by a younger woman."

Leo smirked as he kissed the woman on the cheek.

"There will never be anyone that can replace you, Cass."

With his final words said, he left the room to allow the woman to finally get some sleep. He made a mental note to check in on her when he returned home but he had somewhere else he had to be. It had been weeks since he had seen her last and he doubted that the reception he would receive would the most welcoming.

After a quick shower and ignoring his pale visage in the mirror, he left the large home through the front door before he disapparated and appeared a short walk away from the pub owned by Katie's parents. As he came upon the building, the memories of his first and only visit thus far surfaced and he sighed deeply. If Katie's father hadn't been fond of him then, he certainly wouldn't be now. He was expecting a rather frosty welcome from the girl herself, let alone the man that had proven to be the epitome of a protective parent.

The music he could faintly hear from outside the pub increased in volume as he pushed open the door, the two-dozen or so patrons within sitting groups dotted around the room. None paid attention to him as he approached the bar and he reached it unhindered. He stood patiently for several moments, watching as Katie's parents went about their trade, taking orders and serving drinks, neither becoming aware of his presence until Sarah Bell found herself stood in front of him, a look of relief and irritation marring her features.

"Upstairs, third door on the right," she said simply, gesturing with a jerk of her head.

Leo nodded gratefully as he followed her directions and found himself outside the door in question, his mouth suddenly dry and palms sweating in a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He had missed the girl, more than he realised but he was not looking forward to the tirade that would be unleashed upon him when her temper undoubtedly got the better of her.

Releasing a deep breath, he knocked and rubbed his hands on the outside of his trousers. A few moments passed and as he was about to knock once more, the sound of footsteps drew closer. The door opened slowly and the sight of the girl of his thoughts greeted him, her hair in disarray and visage pale, pronouncing the dark circles around her eyes even more so. Said eyes widened momentarily in surprise at his appearance before a confliction of emotion passed over features; relief, anger and disbelief before settling on an almost blank mask of confusion.

"Hello, lass," he spoke, his voice laced with concern.

At his words, her eyes narrowed, and jaw tightened as she continued to stare at him, unimpressed. He felt himself wither under her gaze, the discomfort of the situation getting the better of something.

"Pease, say something."

Katie deflated, though her anger did not abate.

"I don't know if I want to hug you or kill you, you idiot."

Unwittingly, he smiled at her declaration, pleased to simply hear her voice after all this time. Again, her eyes narrowed at the gesture and Leo spoke before her fury found its' voice.

"Would it help if I said I'm sorry?"

"It would be a start."

Leo sighed, nodding his understanding. What had happened could not have been easy for the girl.

"Aye, I am sorry, lass. I should have spoken to you or found a way to explain what was happening."

"I thought you were dead," Katie returned hotly, prodding him hard in the chest. "I had to find out you were in Azkaban from a newspaper article and then it was attacked by him. I thought he had killed you."

Leo nodded apologetically, the guilt he felt only worsening.

"Aye, I've got no excuses," he conceded, "only that I did what I had to."

"And what exactly was that?"

"I went to get as much information from his followers as I could, about him, about what his plans were."

"You-Know-Who?"

"Aye, him," Leo confirmed. "You might not like it, but it had to be done and I was in the best position to do it. I want him gone, Katie. For what he did to Harry, for what he did to Charlie, my family and for what he could do to you. It will only be a matter of time before he turns his attention to me for what I did to Malfoy and I couldn't just sit and wait for that."

His emotions began to get the better of him the more he spoke, his worries and concerns being vocalised for the first time. When he was alone and contemplating them, they were easy to dismiss, to reassure himself that any of the horrific scenarios that played out in his mind could never come to pass.

What he had learnt of Voldemort was to not be so blasé towards the man. If anything, he was exceedingly gifted at getting what he wanted, and Leo would not take his chances on hope when he had already lost so much to him. He wouldn't allow anything else to be taken.

"Maybe I was selfish, but I would do it all again if it helps to keep you all safe, lass. You can be mad, I deserve that but I can't promise I won't do anything to make sure you're okay."

Katie could only shake her head at him in irritation.

"You're such a pig-headed idiot," she sighed as she wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

She was still furious with him and would be for some time, but she couldn't deny that his intentions didn't warm her heart. Even though he would likely cause her to grey prematurely, he was one of the good ones and she couldn't help but feel proud of him. Very few would be willing to take the risks he had to keep those they cared for safe.

"So, you planned to go there?" she questioned.

Leo nodded.

"Aye, but only if he came back and the opportunity came up. He did and it did, so I had to take it."

Katie released a deep breath, narrowing her eyes at him once more.

"What am I going to do with you?" she asked exasperatedly.

"Just tell me you missed me?" Leo returned with a grin.

"Don't push your bloody luck," Katie warned. "You're lucky I can't use my wand or I would have hexed you."

Leo bowed his head gratefully.

"You're too nice to me," he replied cheekily.

Katie huffed, frowning at him.

"Aren't you still wanted by the Ministry?"

Leo shrugged uncaringly.

"Probably. I should keep my head down, I suppose."

Katie tutted at him as she pulled him into her room and closed the door before kissing him deeply.

"I just wanted to see what it was like to kiss a wanted criminal," she quipped.

"How was it?"

"I've not decided yet," she answered with a smirk. "And I won't until you tell me exactly where the stupid idea of you going to Azkaban came from."

Leo shook his head.

This would be a long conversation and he doubted he would escape it without a severe dressing down by the already unimpressed girl.

(BREAK)

To wizards and muggles alike, the expanse of wall his hand hovered barely an inch from would be innocuous, the latter simply being driven away by the most subtle of wards, the former likely to never come across this place. Even if such a thing were to happen, the average witch or wizard would be unaware of the magic here, so faint as it was. Harry himself almost missed it and would have were it not for his certainty he was in the right place. Such a seemingly inconsequential stretch of stone the only thing separating him from the majority of wealth wizarding Britain held.

He frowned briefly as he considered the laxity in security and snorted softly. Such laxity was in fact a stroke of genius. The muggles simply needed to be kept away and wizards were mostly ignorant of the practices of their counterparts. None would ever have reason to even explore this avenue and would not have the knowledge needed to do so nor the ability to execute what Harry intended. The goblins were not foolish creatures, particularly where security was concerned. Undoubtedly, the ward he faced was created by wizards. He suspected had the goblins known of this, the wards would be much more extensive than what he had found. He knew their magic, had felt it only the previous day when he had paid the bank a visit under the guise of retrieving something from the family vault.

He had no need of anything within, only to know exactly where the older vaults were located and any security he would face. He had learnt much about the bank through his covert observations. The weaknesses within were none, the vaults accessible only by the creatures that ruled the twisting tunnels beneath the ground with iron vigilance. Or so they thought. Harry had advantages no other did and had laid a plan that would leave the rude, uncouth creatures baffled as to what had happened. Instinctively, he squeezed the lump in his pocket, checking the cloak was still within before shifting to the other ensuring his broom and the phial he needed was there also.

The days leading up to Charlie's funeral had been spent researching the bank, the goblins and even muggle maps of the London Underground. He suspected that would be his best way in and had not been disappointed by what he found.

The tunnels under the city spread in every direction across the length and breath of the metropolis and beyond. The bank and the tunnels created by the goblins had existed long before these. It was only logical that their paths came close to crossing at some junction or other and measures having to be taken by wizards to prevent this. Harry had found this place with surprising ease, having only needed to explore the tracks at a couple muggle stations. He had started at Charing Cross, being closest to the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley before moving on to Leicester Square, where he found himself now in the early hours of the morning.

He sighed at the apparent ease of the task, though he doubted it would be so. He couldn't be certain just how much stone separated him from where he needed to be.

He cursed Bellatrix under his breath, the reason such an undertaking had become necessary. He had yet to speak to the woman, solely here on the word of Leo who had apparently woken two days ago. The boy had been in rather fine spirits as they had caught up the previous day and he had explained his findings from his time in Azkaban. His suspicions about Tom's snake was something he decided to ponder later. The Horcrux in the bank was the priority and likely the most difficult to obtain.

Rolling up his sleeves, he cast a silencing charm around the area, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to what he was doing. Shifting through an inordinate amount of stone was unlikely to be the quietest of work. Muttering under his breath, he manipulated the wards, shifting them so a gap just big enough to admit him could be made.

With his preparation done, he used a Boring Charm to remove a large section of the wall before shrinking it to the size of a matchbox and placing it on the ground carefully, fully intending to replace whatever he took away to cover his entry into the bank.

He continued in this vain until a sizable collection of neatly arranged bricks steadily grew. For what became several hours, he toiled away at the menial labour, removing chunk upon chunk as he slowly progressed onwards, stopping occasionally to rest and drink when needed. Both morning and afternoon passed and it was early evening when the sound of rushing water could be heard from somewhere ahead and he knew he was close. Carefully, he removed another piece of stone and was greeted by the sight of faint light as he breached the final barrier.

Pressing one eye to the small hole, he breathed a sigh of relief. He recognised what was in front of him, the sound of rushing water having been the first clue and the sight of The Thief's Downfall confirming his suspicions. From up here, the journey into the bowels of the bank would have taken an age had he not come prepared.

Patiently, he waited until a cart passed on the winding track, carrying a customer to their vault before he set to work. He had at least three minutes before the next would come, having been informed of such by the goblin that had escorted him to the Black vault during his own visit. Unwittingly, the creature had given him a piece of vital information under the impression he was simply satisfying a teenager's curiosity. Such was the faith in their security that Barchoke had not batted an eyelid at the seemingly inane question.

Hurriedly, Harry cast another, more complex charm, one that would give the illusion of the wall being in place before he removed it and withdrew his cloak. Throwing it over himself, he unshrunk his broom and cast a Disillusionment Charm on it before covering as much as he could with the remaining fabric and mounted it.

Steadying his breathing to calm the adrenaline, he glided through the barrier and into the bank, pausing to ensure no alarms were triggered. He had tested the cloak rigorously and had learnt that it could not be summoned, be detected by wards nor be damaged by standard spells. He had not however been able to test it against goblin magic but the lack of activity at his entrance was a good sign that it was working just as well. Had he not had the cloak in his possessions, such a foray would be ludicrous to even consider. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have been discovered immediately.

Somewhat calmer, he headed downwards, avoiding the waterfall and touching anything that may give away his presence. Though he was in, he was taking no chances. Luckily, he had inherited James Potter's talent for riding and was able to navigate himself through the craggy tunnels with little issue. This took longer than he would like, his broom not able to move as quickly or freely as the carts that could reach the deeper vaults in a matter of minutes. For Harry, it took close to an hour before spotted the Black sigil on one of the open doors, a duo of goblins in full armour standing vigil over the open vault.

He smirked at another stroke of genius he'd had whilst here the previous day. He was aware that only a goblin could open the doors, thus, he would need one available to help him into the LeStrange vault, though the hope would not be given willingly. As such, he had requested a full audit of the Black Vault be carried out as soon as possible, as was his right as heir to the family. As one of the more prominent customers, he was informed that it would take a few days to complete but would be done as soon as possible. It had been a gamble to rely on the efficiency of the goblins, but one that had paid off. Had they not been carrying out the task for him, he would have had to find another way. Thankfully, this had not come to pass and his plan seemed to be coming together smoother than he could have hoped.

He watched the two unmoving figures for a few moments, considering what options he had. He had no wish to engage them knowing it would be folly. Before he could hope to take them out, the alarms would be sounded and his chance of escape would be very slim and he would have to do so without what he came for.

His pondering continued until a guttural roar rent the air and his eyes widened. Dragons had been rumoured to be used by the goblins here but these had never been substantiated, dismissed as ridiculous mutterings of fools who had never even ventured this far into the bank.

A sudden idea formed in his mind, more than a little reckless but undoubtedly good if he could pull it off. Giving a final glance at the two guardians, he flew off in the direction he had heard the beast and soon came upon it.

His mouth opened at the sheer size of it, the majesty of the dragon giving him cause to admire the spectacle. It was huge, at least double the size of the one he faced during the tournament and one he had not come across during his time reading about them. Its' scales were milky white, likely due to the amount of time it had lived in the darkness, and the eyes were a very pale blue. Its' body was littered with scars from the apparent abuse it had received throughout its' life and Harry shook his head. It truly was a magnificent creature and were he not here for something of such import, he would likely do all he could to set it free.

Chastising himself for his lamentation, he aimed his wand from under the cloak and fired a strong Stinging Hex. His aim was true and the dragon roared in fury, more irritated than hurt by the spell hitting it in the eye. Taking aim again, he fired off another and hit the other eyes, sending the dragon into a frenzy.

The ruckus caused by the beast reverberated off the walls of the tunnels in a series of roars and chains rattling loudly as it fought against his bonds. As hoped, the two goblins that had been guarding his family vault only a short distance away came into the clearing a few minutes later and began shaking a rather strange instrument each held, adding to the cacophony of noise the dragon was making.

It saddened him to watch the creature flinch as it did at the sound as he swept away on his broom, knowing he had but a small window of opportunity to carry out the next phase of his plan. The goblins would not abandon their post for long and the dragon was already silent by the time he reached the open vault.

Dismounting, he crept through the door of his family vault and waited for the other goblins to return, expecting an exchange between the one pouring over a large tome and the two guards he had lured away. The pair returned only a moment later and the expected exchange took place. Harry knew not what was said between them, not being well versed in gobbledygook but the tension in his shoulders abated as they appeared dismissive of what had occurred.

From his position, he watched as the lone goblin in the vault went about his work with efficiency, paying no further heed to anything around, so focused on his task he was. When he was certain of the creature's immersion, he carefully made his way towards it, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, poised and ready for one of the riskier parts of his plan.

The goblins used magic within the bank, he had seen it himself. He knew not however if wards would be triggered by certain spells, but it was a step that simply had to be taken. It was, unavoidable.

When the musty stench of the goblin became apparent, he aimed his wand but an inch from the neck of the creature and cast a silent Stunning Spell, catching the diminutive figure as it collapsed into his arms. Quickly, he pulled it within the confines of the cloak and stilled, waiting for any indication his transgression had been detected.

All remained quiet, much to his relief and he quickly withdrew the phial from his pocket; a rather potent version of a potion that would make a person more susceptible to mind magic. He had no doubt that goblins had their own form of Occlumency and Legilimency respectively, but again, this was something he had no experience of and wanted to mitigate any disadvantage he may have while confronting this unknown. The potion, as far as he knew, had never been used on anything other than a human, thus the extra potency. It was unlikely to be fatal, though the goblin could suffer some minor side effects. It was untested territory after all.

Removing the cork, he forced open the mouth and administered it, allowing a minute or so to pass to take effect. Readying himself to stun the creature once more should his efforts prove to be fruitless; he revived the goblin with a flick of his wand.

Bleary eyes greeted him, searching for answers as to what had happened. Before clarity could set in, Harry focused with all he could as he whispered his next spell.

"Imperio."

Bleary eyes became glazed over as the goblin fell under his control with little fight, its' senses and willpower ensnared by a combination of the potion and the spell.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry gave a final cursory glance around to ensure none had become privy to what he was doing before using his mental connection to the creature to convey exactly what he wanted.

"You will be silent and unmoving. You will comply with all my orders."

The goblin nodded mutely, and Harry mounted his broom once more before exiting the vault at a sedate speed so not to alert those standing guard, the creature seated in front of him.

"Where is the LeStrange Vault?"

Remaining silent, as instructed, the goblin pointed a gnarled finger towards their left and upwards, indicating the vault in question was closer to the surface than that of the Blacks'. Turning his broom in that direction, Harry navigated his way through the adjoining tunnels and soon reached a door embossed with the sigil of the family vault he sought.

"What protections are on it?"

The goblin began to fight the curse with renewed vigour, but its' addled mind was no match for Harry's who asserted his will with ease once more. Eventually, the goblin sagged defeatedly.

"Mrs LeStrange ordered the best protections be added during her last visit. Unfortunately, she is not the Head of House and had no such authority to do so. The standard security measures remain in place and will be null once the vault is open. Only the Doubling Charm will remain."

Harry nodded, satisfied with the answer. The Doubling Charm was elementary to overcome. He simply needed the goblin to open the vault and the cup Leo had described would be in his possession.

"Open it," he whispered, prodding the goblin the back with his wand.

The creature ambled forward, his eyes still glazed over. Reaching the door, he pressed his palm on the sigil before running his finger down a groove that appeared below. If any other than a goblin of Gringotts attempted this, the consequences would be dire. Harry had been made aware of the protections on the Black vault and he had no doubt the LeStranges' would have something similar in place.

With a groan, the door opened, revealing a more than modest sum of gold. The family was not exceedingly wealthy by any stretch but were certainly not impoverished. A few generations could comfortably survive on what was within the vault.

Bracing himself, Harry entered the vault and immediately became aware of a familiar presence, one that had overwhelmed him during his visit to Little Hangleton with his father and grandfather. It was here, of that, he couldn't be more certain. Waving his wand and muttering under his breath, he removed the Doubling Charm, not concerned that an alarm would be triggered by the action. Bellatrix or any other member of the family would have to do the same to retrieve anything from within.

Satisfied that his work had been a success, he pressed forward, the feeling of the Horcrux becoming ever more apparent until his eyes wandered upwards and settled on what most would see as an inane, small cup that had been placed upon the top shelf. With a frown, he lowered it gently towards him, rotating it slightly to see what was so special about it. If he had learnt anything about Tom, it was that he would not use something without value to house a part of his soul. His ego was far too big to allow it.

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he spied the small badger engraved into base and his curiosity was sated. A personal creation of one of the Hogwarts founders would be deemed worthy to house such a precious commodity, indeed.

After admiring the cup briefly, he pocketed it, ensuring he recast the Doubling Charm before taking his leave. There was certainly nothing else within the vault he had any interest in, after all.

"Close it," he instructed the goblin as he reached him.

The creature nodded before setting about the task, pulling the door closed and placing his hand once more on the family sigil which glowed as the vault was sealed. Content that the difficult part of the task was complete, Harry stunned the goblin and placed him back on the front of his broom before returning him to the Black vault, avoiding the guards standing vigil with ease.

Rolling the goblin off the broom, he cast a basic silencing ward around himself and the creature, not looking forward to the next part of the process. With a shake of his head, he removed a second phial from his pocketed, uncorked it and poured it down the throat of the unconscious goblin causing it to roll over and purge the contents of its' stomach only a moment later.

When he was satisfied there was nothing else left to be brought up, he focused and removed the Imperius Curse before aiming his wand.

"Obliviate," he muttered, concentrating on the past twenty minutes.

As an addendum, he inserted a fake memory of the goblin continuing with his task uninterrupted. If all was well, it would shake itself from a stupor and continue where it believed it had left off.

Vanishing the vomit with a wave of his wand, he navigated the creature back to where it had been prior and stood it up. Puling his cloak over himself, he gave a final glance around the vault to ensure all was where it had been when he arrived. Removing the Silencing Charm, he pointed his wand for a final time, hoping that he had made no errors.

"Ennervate," he whispered.

The goblin startled into consciousness, its' formerly glazed eyes alert but marred with a brief second of confusion before it shook its' head, seemingly none the wiser to the manipulation it had been subject to. Without preamble, he continued with his work and Harry backed out of the vault and mounted his broom before making his escape, the two guards remaining unmoved.

He however did not allow himself to relax until he reached his entry point, finding his way only through the feel of his own magic he had cast on the illusion. Landing in the tunnel he created, he allowed himself a sigh of relief, his senses having been on high alert for the prolonged period he carried out his subterfuge. Quickly but with care, he completed the arduous task of replacing all the stone he had removed and sealed it all together with a wave of his wand, checking that the wards fell back into place as he had found them.

With his work complete, he withdrew the cup that had been the cause of such efforts and nodded appreciatively. This one he would take to Egypt where he himself had been relieved of the Horcrux. It would be quite the addition to the many artefacts in the possession of the Blacks, once the taint had been removed.

Checking for a final time that he had left no trace of his presence, he walked a short distance away from where he had spent the best part of a day and apparated away.

Arriving in the foyer of Grimmauld Place, he allowed himself to feel a sense of triumph. He had done something that no other had. He had successfully broken into the lair of the goblins, liberated an artefact from a vault that did not belong to him and all without repercussions.

Grinning slightly and shaking his head, he traversed the steps and headed to wards the drawing room. Entering, he found his father and grandfather sat on opposing sides of the desk, both appearing tired from whatever effort they themselves were making.

"What's going on?" Harry questioned the pair who seemed surprised by his presence.

Arcturus released a breath born of frustration.

"We are working on a way to retrieve the damned cup. Even the name Black won't do anything to sway the shifty little bastards at Gringotts."

Sirius merely shrugged.

"And as I have said, you won't know until you try."

"Giving the game away," Arcturus bit back. "If I make enquiries and nothing comes of it, the finger will be pointed straight at us if we manage to get it in a less than savoury way."

Harry said nothing as he removed the cup from his pocket and placed it on the table between the two.

Arcturus frowned before his eyes widened, his gaze switching between the cup and his grandson.

"How?" he asked dumbly.

"I found a way in," Harry answered with a smirk.

"You broke into Gringotts?" Sirius interjected, his tone a mixture of awe and anger.

"You need to explain, Harry," Arcturus insisted. "If you are caught out, it will be the goblin justice you face."

Harry nodded his understanding and informed the duo of all he had done to obtain the Horcrux. When he was finished, Arcturus slumped backwards into his chair, his features marred with pride, acceptance and a hint of sadness.

"What you have done is unheard of," he whispered. "Go and get yourself cleaned up and we will meet in the kitchen in an hours' time," he announced as he stood from his chair and exited the room, each decade he had lived showing in the laboured steps he took.

Harry turned towards his father, confused and the man offered him a half smile.

"I'm furious, Harry, but proud. I don't know whether to clout you or hug you for what you achieved." Settling on the latter, he pulled the teen into a tight embrace. "You're going to make me grey even more if you keep this up."

Harry snorted slightly.

"I did what I had to, for the family."

Sirius shook his head as his smile widened.

"I know," he clarified "and so does he," he added, nodding towards the door the patriarch of the family had left only a moment ago. "Best do as he says. Get yourself cleaned up and meet us down there when you're ready."

Harry nodded and took his own leave. Arriving at the room that once belonged to his uncle Regulus, he entered the bathroom and turned on the shower before undressing and entering. For several minutes, he allowed the hot water to wash over him and ease his aching muscles as he pondered just what he had done. It could have easily proven to be reckless had he not been so fortunate in his endeavour. Had he been caught and unable to escape, the goblins would likely have killed him. Not that he would have gone down without a fight. Doing so, however, would likely be folly. He had proven he was no slouch with a wand but taking on the entirety of the goblins was not smart. Wizards weren't wary of the creatures for nothing.

Once he had finished washing, he turned off the water and dried himself off with a wave of his wand. Feeling considerably better, he returned to the bedroom and dressed, bracing himself for an important discussion with the rest of his family.

Leo would have his back without question. Cassie was likely to curse him as she always attempted to do whenever he did something foolish and his father would likely rant and rave once the realisation had settled in. The unknown in the situation was his grandfather. One could never be certain how the man would react. Either his anger would prevail, or his anger would get the better of him.

Deciding he had delayed the inevitable long enough, he left his room and headed towards the kitchen, the rest of the house ominously silent as though it too was awaiting the outcome. Should his grandfather choose to, his life could become rather more complicated than it already was. He could only hope the man saw the sense in his actions, despite having not shared his intentions with the rest.

Bracing himself, he entered the kitchen only to be surprised by the group waiting within for him to arrive. His grandfather was seated at the head of the table, as expected. His father, Aunt Cassie and Leo were there, also sat in their usual seats. The surprise, however, was the presence of all three of the Tonks family, the elder two, decidedly uncomfortable and the younger looking at him with something akin to guilt marring her features. He had not seen her in the two days since Charlie had been buried. She had sent a patronus informing him something had come up but had gone into no further detail. It was partly this obscure message that had spurred him into solving the Gringotts problem quicker than expected.

Arcturus said nothing at first but gestured for him to take a seat. Where Harry would usually be on his left as his heir, he was instructed to sit at the furthest chair away from the man. He complied with a nod before sitting, the expression worn by his lord blank.

Arcturus cleared his throat as he stood, withdrew the cup Harry had retrieved from Gringotts and placed it on the table.

"I have gathered you all here to bear witness to my decision regarding the events of today," he began, his voice giving nothing of his feelings away. "Never in all my years would I expect a member of this family to carry out such a deed nor be successful in such an endeavour."

A look of recognition and shock overcame Leo as he stared between the cup and Harry. Cassie appeared to be as clueless as the Tonks' and Sirius remained grim in his demeanour. Arcturus continued with a sigh before any could speak whatever thoughts they may be having.

"I have done all I can to be a good lord of this family, one that allowed every member, many freedoms. For the most part, I have been a failure," he declared, his head hanging.

Harry felt a wave of sadness wash over him at the words of the man that had mentored him these past years. Arcturus, however, held up a hand to quell any outcry. His eyes met Harry's and the teen could see the tiredness that plagued the man. To him, he had always been invincible, stronger than any he had ever met and a man he aspired to be. Now, in this moment, Arcturus Black was an old man who had lived many difficult years trying to hold the fraying threads of his family together.

"Perhaps I should have done things differently but even the Lord Black cannot change the past, nor in many cases, atone for it," he added, his gaze shifting to Andromeda. "But I did the best I could. Had I done things differently, it is unlikely I would be stood in the fortunate position I am in now."

He released a deep breath as he nodded resolutely.

"I will certainly not go down as one of the best this family has ever born, but the sign of a good lord is knowing when there is a better to take his place, knowing when the time is right for him to step down." He beckoned for Harry to approach and the teen did so slowly, not waning to believe what was happening. "This past year, Harry, you have proven to be my better in many ways. Both your mind and wand are sharper than my own and it is now time for you to take the mantle of Lord Black."

"No," Harry denied firmly causing Arcturus to smile and grab his hand in a gentle grasp.

"I'm a very old man, Harry. I am tired and not what I once was. Each day I grow more tired, more frail and less sound of mind. I named you my heir for a reason. Because I saw a greatness in you that I never possessed. I saw in you the lord that could return our family to its former glory. You're ready, my heir. I know the family will thrive under your headship."

Harry swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, accepting the words of the man without further question. Arcturus Black was not one to give such praise so freely.

"What will you do?" he asked worriedly.

"I'll be here to help you, when you need it. I imagine I'll be long gone before the day comes you no longer do."

A sense of relief came over Harry. For a moment, he thought the older man may disappear from his life. He would rather never be the Lord Black than lose his grandfather.

"What do you say, Harry? Are you ready?"

The teen snorted as he shook his head.

"I don't think I'll ever be."

Arcturus leaned forward as a grin tugged at his lips.

"You never do," he whispered, eliciting a laugh from his heir.

Glancing around the room, he saw a mixture of sadness and pride staring back at him from Cassie, Sirius and Leo. Even Andromeda gave him a smile of approval whilst Tonks fidgeted uncomfortably. Turning back to his Grandfather, he gave him a nod, unable to vocalise just what it was he was feeling.

A rare, genuine smile formed on the older man's lips as he removed the family ring from his index finger and did the same to the one on Harry's that signified him as the heir. The lord's ring was heavier, though Harry couldn't be sure whether that was the responsibility that came with it weighing it down or the fact that it was slightly larger than the one he had worn for so long. Regardless, it was the most warm he had ever felt, as though the old man had stood from his chair and wrapped his arms around him. That, he knew would never happen. Arcturus did, however, grab him tightly by the shoulder, a gesture that spoke more words than a tongue ever could in that moment.

"I name you, Harry Arcturus Black, the new lord of our family," the old man declared.

This time, Harry could not entirely contain his emotion as his eyes filled with tears. For as long as he cared to remember, he had been Harry Black, adopted son of Sirius and nothing more. He had not been gifted with a Black name and, until now, it had never been something he had truly missed. Receiving the honour of being given the name of the man in front of him was more humbling than he could have ever imagined. He would carry the name with pride, would prove he was worthy of such a thing.

As overwhelmed as he felt, he could only bow in gratitude.

"Who will be my heir?" he questioned as he held the ring that had been his for so long.

Arcturus looked almost guilty as he considered his answer, though not apologetic.

"That is something I will allow Andromeda, her husband and Nymphadora to explain. Do not be worried, Harry. You are not being forced into anything."

Harry turned away from his grandfather nervously, his gaze meeting that of the metamorph who returned it in an equal state. He approached her and her parents, worried that something had been done that would interfere with what himself and the girl had been building these past months since they had met.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks greeted him, an uncertain smile gracing her lips.

"I suppose I should be asking what is going on?" he returned.

Tonks nodded and looked around the room. Getting the hint, Harry led her away, the two being followed by her parents. He entered the adjoining parlour room and the trio took a seat on one of the plush sofas as Harry sat in a single chair by the fire.

"I suppose I should start," Andromeda decided after a moment of silence, her daughter nodding gratefully.

(BREAK)

(FLASHBACK)

Andromeda Tonks was pottering around the kitchen in what she had once considered her second home. The memories here were bittersweet at best, the sweetness soured by the events that came later in life. She had been fond of Bellatrix, her younger, vivacious sister. She had been the envy of most, beautiful and talented, the latter being used to carry out evil deeds rather than for betterment. To say Andromeda had been surprised by her decision to align herself with the Dark lord would be an understatement. Bellatrix had never been one to follow. She herself had once been larger than life, her ego allowing none to bring her to heel. Even her father had trouble in such efforts. Bellatrix answered to none. Alas, there had been something about Voldemort that her lured her in. Power, perhaps. Whatever it was had enthralled the young woman and she had become the one thing Andromeda never thought she would, a sycophant.

The youngest of the trio had been the freest. Narcissa had been born different to the others, favouring blonde locks instead of the classic, black of the Blacks. Her own beauty because of it had always been somewhat ethereal, almost other-worldly. The rumours had been that she was not at all a Black but the product of a tryst between her father and a veela. Nonsense, of course. Her father may have been many thing things but he was as loyal and dedicated to her mother than any. Even a veela would have been unable to turn his head. Cissy had been gifted with warmth, hard to believe considering the cold, aloof woman she had grown into. But it had been her that brought the laughter and the smiles to her older sisters, a mischievous grin often adorning her features as her grey eyes were alight with much the same. To see her marry Lucius Malfoy of all people had been a real blow. What the woman had become was the opposite of what the girl had been.

Andromeda still missed them, the two girls she had grown with, despite who they now were and what they had done. Bella, could never be forgiven for her actions and Narcissa would not give her the time of day. The moment she decided she would marry Ted, she said goodbye to her family knowing there was no going back.

She regretted nothing, however. Her sisters had made their choices long before she and it was her that ended up the better. She was not as wealthy as Narcissa but she had more than she could ever want in her husband and daughter, the two most important people in her life.

She was pulled from her musings by the sound of the floo, something she never expected to hear whilst within the house. Harry had assured them it was not possible for any to visit and he came and went as he pleased.

Drawing her wand with a frown, she noted it was getting late in the evening. Whomever it was, had no respect for social decorum, evidently. Opening the door to the room that contained the only working fireplace, her eyes widened at the head floating within the flames, the head of a man she'd had no conversation with since before her father had cast her out of the family. She swallowed the hint of anger and sadness at his appearance and curtsied as had been drilled into her from since she was a girl.

"Lord Black," she greeted the man cautiously.

He was much older than she remembered, his greying hair now entirely devoid of the Black it had once been. The lines in his face were deep, so much so that were it not for the sharp eyes scrutinising her, he would have been almost unrecognisable.

"Andromeda," Arcturus returned with a nod. "I would like to request a meeting with yourself and your husband when the time is convenient."

Her stomach became a pit of nervousness at his words and it took a moment for her to compose herself sufficiently that she could reply.

"Has something happened?"

"Nothing of the sort," her grandfather assured her. "I do believe, however, that a talk is in need. Recent events have prompted such a thing."

Andromeda swallowed as she nodded.

She'd somewhat been expecting this for some time, ever since Nymphadora had been spending time with Harry. She doubted the Black patriarch would have been pleased by the development and now it seemed he was acting upon his displeasure.

"You can come through now, if it is convenient for yourself," she sighed.

It would likely do no good for him to attempt to interfere. What she knew of Harry and her daughter was that they were similarly stubborn to a fault. She could only hope that Harry could either convince the older man to allow their association to continue or her daughter would see sense and not provoke the Head of the family into taking steps to ensure his wishes were met. She would of course do all she could to protect her daughter, for all the good it would do.

"Thank you, I shall join you in a moment."

As his head disappeared, Andromeda rushed from the room to locate her husband. As expected, she found him perusing a book in front of the fire in the main lounge and she snatched it from him, eliciting a yelp of surprise from the man.

"My grandfather is coming here. Here wants to speak with both of us."

"Now?" Ted asked with a frown.

"Yes, now," Andromeda bit back, rushing away to greet the Lord Black as he arrived, straightening her robes as she went.

Ted entered the room just as the fireplace flared into life and the man himself stepped out of the green flames, clearing away the errant ash with a casual wave of his wand.

Again, Andromeda curtsied out of respect and Ted followed with a clumsy bow that Arcturus ignored.

"There is no need for the formality, it is I that is imposing on you," he insisted.

The couple relaxed somewhat at his words.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Andromeda offered.

Arcturus nodded thoughtfully.

"A glass of that fine wine your mother used to keep would be most welcome," the older man answered almost reverently.

Andromeda flushed red in embarrassment.

"I was never allowed the password to the cellar," she explained.

Arcturus chuckled, shocking the woman. For someone who seemingly wanted to discuss something so serious, he was in rather good spirits.

"Of course," he concurred. "Harry would not have been able to tell you as I did not inform of it. The last time Leo and he got into one of the cellars, I ended up with a worse headache than the pair of them," he mused aloud, shaking his head as he exited the room and entered the kitchen with the two Tonks in tow. "It is a rather simple spell. You just have to point your wand at the floor here and… pur toujurs."

A set of descending stairs appeared in the floor and Arcturus nodded in satisfaction as he summoned a bottle from within the opening with a flick of his wand.

"Allow me," Andromeda offered, reaching for the bottle.

"I may be an old man but no so old that I cannot pour a drink," he replied as he conjured three glasses and set them on the table. The cork released from the bottle with a gentle pop and Arcturus poured each a generous measure.

"My apologies," Andromeda mumbled.

"Think nothing of it," Arcturus dismissed. "It should be me apologising. For all intents and purposes, this is your home and it is I that am overstepping."

"Maybe we should just sit down," Ted interjected, unfazed by the penetrating gaze of their visitor.

Arcturus nodded and followed the lead of the pair. Once he was seated, an uncomfortable silence fell over the trio that was eventually broken by Andromeda.

"What is it you wish to discuss?"

Arcturus took a sip from his glass and placed it back on the table.

"Your daughter," he answered simply.

Andromeda sighed.

"If you no longer wish her to spend time with Harry, that is a conversation you will have to have with them. She would not listen to us even if I was inclined to convince her," she returned firmly.

Arcturus snorted slightly at the retort, pleased that the woman had not lost all the traits she had acquired from his line.

"You mistake my intentions, Andromeda," he returned. "I very much approve of Nymphadora. I could give you no greater compliment than to say that you have both raised a fine young woman."

Andromeda raised an eyebrow in disbelief. She had not expected such a compliment from the man.

"So, what is it you do want?" Ted questioned with a frown.

"I would like to begin negotiations for a marriage contract between Nymphadora and Harry."

"Absolutely not," Andromeda answered immediately. "I will not even attempt to force my daughter into a marriage."

"And I would not do the same to Harry. Merlin knows the boy would sooner give up his heirship than be forced into marriage. I am merely asking you to hear the terms of my proposal. I'm sure you will understand and be agreeable to them."

Before Andromeda could respond, Ted placed a hand on her forearm to prevent an angry outburst. Meeting the eye of her husband, she visibly deflated and nodded, gesturing for her grandfather to continue.

"Since we have arrived in Britain, I have received no less than eighteen offers of marriage for Harry," he began, the news not surprising the woman. Being married to the future Lord Black would be a boon for any family with ambitions. "As I have already said, Harry would sooner flee than be coerced into such. However, something must be done. Many of the families offering their daughters are exceedingly important, the dowry's not small in sum. Were I a younger, less experienced man, one of few would already have been accepted."

"But you haven't?" Andromeda pressed.

Arcturus shook his head.

"Were it not for your daughter, I would have advised Harry to consider them," he admitted. "Nymphadora, however, makes that impossible. The boy is smitten with her. Is he in love with her? I do not know but I believe the pair should be given the chance to find out for themselves."

Andromeda and Ted both nodded their agreement.

"She is more fond of him than she has ever been of anyone," Andromeda sighed. "She cares for him and I don't think even she knows how much."

"Those are my thoughts exactly," Arcturus agreed.

"So, what is your proposal?"

Arcturus took a moment to collect his thoughts, not wanting to be dismissed out of hand.

"I would propose a contract that Nymphadora herself would sign. That, within two years, herself and Harry must decide if they are to be wed. If no such thing happens, then Harry will need to find a suitable bride to continue the family line. If they decide to do so, it will be done with my utmost blessing and happiness."

Andromeda's eyes widened at the simplistic explanation. For the lord of a family to allow such a grace period was unheard of. He truly must be fond of both Harry and Dora to allow such a thing. No other lord she could think of would be so considerate nor generous. However, there was more to this other than such generosity.

"Why are you trying to push them into this?"

"It is not about pushing them," Arcturus denied. "It is about security for the family. One day soon, next week, next month or perhaps next year, I will no longer be the Lord Black. I need to ensure that the family is in a position to prosper."

Andromeda nodded her understanding. When her grandfather stepped down or died, it would be expected of Harry to marry soon after taking up the headship. The family would be viewed as weak and vulnerable with a head that would bear no children soon. What the proposal offered, was nothing more nor less than Nymphadora to find the happiness she deserved. At best, she would be married to person she loved. At worst, she would realise that it is not Harry she wishes to spend her life with.

"That's it? There's nothing else to it?"

Arcturus shook his head.

"If they do decide to marry, then we can discuss the details."

Andromeda nodded her understanding.

"We will have to discuss it with Nymphadora," she insisted.

"Of course," Arcturus agreed. "I would have expected nothing less."

"And what if she refuses to agree?"

"Then I will suggest that Harry considers the other offers I have received," Arcturus answered honestly. "I am convinced that it will be sooner rather than later that I will no longer be the best man to lead this family."

Andromeda knew not what to say to the man who was looking every decade he had lived. She could only watch as he bowed and left the room, exiting through the floo only a moment later.

"We should discuss this with Dora as soon as we can," Ted suggested.

"It can wait until after the funeral," Andromeda replied. "They are burying poor Charlie tomorrow and Harry will need her."

Ted nodded grimly, the story of the boy who lived and how he was murdered still fresh in his memory.

(END FLASHBACK)

(BREAK)

Harry dragged a hand through his hair, irritated but understanding of why his grandfather had taken such a step. He would have done something similar were he in the same precarious position as Head of the family. Arcturus had done what he always had; what was necessary to ensure the continuation of the Black line. No Black in recent history had led the family when so few were still around. There were few possibilities to inherit, so few were the numbers remaining.

"And you're okay with this?" he questioned the metamorph.

Tonks shrugged.

"I was angry until mum explained.," she answered candidly. "I wasn't raised with all the pureblood formalities so didn't understand how much a big deal all this was. The fact that Lord Black even offered what he has will be an insult to many families."

Andromeda nodded her agreement.

"And there is no real pressure on either of you. If you decide within the two years you want to marry, then so be it. You'll at the very least know if it is or isn't what you both want."

Harry sighed and nodded. He didn't want the pressure, but the deal struck seemed fair. It would keep other families at bay for the time being also.

"He did this for both of you, to give you the chance," Andromeda soothed. "In his position, it was more than he should've done. He could have insisted on you marrying sooner or offered you up to another before making you the new lord," she pointed out.

"He could have," Harry agreed. "So, what do we do from here?"

"We don't have to do anything yet," Tonks answered with a shrug. "Maybe you should look at the contract offers. Being the lord of such an important family, it will be expected that you consider them."

Again, Andromeda nodded her agreement, giving her daughter's arm a gentle squeeze.

Harry frowned as he shook his head.

"I'm not interested," he dismissed harshly. "I'm not going to marry anyone else because it is expected of me. I will marry who I choose and anyone who doesn't like it can take it up with me," he finished, his eyes flaring the eerie emerald of his anger.

The Tonks' were taken aback by the impromptu impassioned speech and Andromeda grinned appreciatively. She had not seen this side to Harry, but he was undoubtedly raised a Black. Even Sirius, who did all he could to distance himself from them as a boy could never erase the traits that made him who he was. The Black in people prevailed, against all odds.

"We have two years to decide," he continued calmly. "We don't have to make any decisions now."

Tonks nodded her agreement, relieved he was so against exploring other options.

"Any idea why you were made Lord Black so suddenly?" Ted asked curiously.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort.

"I might have broken into Gringotts and took something from a vault that does not belong to the family," he answered almost sheepishly.

"You did what?" Ted yelped.

Tonks' lips formed into a thin line before she burst into laughter, her mother staring at the young man in disbelief.

"There was something I needed, and it wasn't like the little shits would hand it over," he defended.

"It's not funny, Dora," Ted chastised. "He could have been killed."

Tonks managed to control herself as she shook in amusement.

"Why am I not surprised?" she huffed. "You probably would have done it just to prove you could. Don't deny it," she added, quelling any protest, "I know you better than you think, Harry."

Harry could only shrug. He'd never had ambition to break into the bank before but he could not deny that had such a thought surfaced, he wouldn't be tempted by the task.

"Stupid boy," Andromeda muttered.

"Not my best idea," Harry returned, "but it was necessary, and I managed it without being caught."

"H-how?" Ted stuttered, still in shock. "They have some of the best security in the world."

"It's just a Harry thing," Tonks sighed.

Harry could only shrug in agreement. He had developed a knack for doing things most believed impossible. His ability to manipulate magic the way he did was proof.

"So, you're really not going to consider the other offers?" Andromeda asked after a moment of silence.

Harry shook his head.

"If after two years Dora decides she doesn't want to marry me, then and only then will think about it."

"Or if you decide you don't want to marry me," Tonks interjected.

"True," Harry answered with a smirk causing the girl to narrow her eyes at him.

"And just what is wrong with me?"

Harry's grin widened.

"You're clumsy, your charms work is horrendous, you make me eat ice cream until I am sick and snore, really loudly," he reeled off, his eyes alight with mirth.

"Well, you have an ego, you're unsociable, you burn things and you wake up so early that even the bloody birds aren't up."

Andromeda and Ted watched the back and forth between the two in amusement until the former decided to intervene.

"Merlin, you're both as stubborn as each other," she sighed, "and immature," she added when her daughter stuck her tongue out at Harry who gave a less pleasant gesture with his finger. The two laughed as Andromeda shook her head, looking towards her own husband for help.

Ted could only shrug, evidently entertained by the duo.

"You are supposed to be an auror and you the Lord Black," Andromeda pointed out to the pair.

"Speaking of which," Ted interjected before either his daughter or Harry could come up with a reply that would not doubt provoke the ire of his wife, "what will you do now that you've been given the headship?"

Harry sobered at the reminder of his new responsibilities as he pondered where to begin.

"Well, grandfather has plans for the minister position that I will see through and I can't think of a better way to announce my ascension to Tom by sitting amongst his followers," he finished with a smirk, his eyes briefly flaring emerald.

"The other Lords will not take it well that you are the new Lord Black, because of your age," Andromeda explained. "They will try to manipulate and take advantage of you or dismiss you outright."

Harry chuckled darkly.

"If anyone is so stupid to try, it will end badly for them," he promised. "They are beneath me and I will remind them of that, if necessary."

Andromeda was not truly surprised by his response; he had been raised and taught by Arcturus Black. He too had been young when he took the mantle of head of house and those that thought they could take liberties with him had seen the error of their ways very quickly. Harry, if anything, was very much like her grandfather, but different. Where Arcturus could cause harm, he could often be more thoughtful, more cunning in his vengeance. Harry, however, seemed to favour the less tactful approach when dealing with enemies, and the woman could see why; there were very few that could hope to stand against him if he drew his wand. Much of the wizarding world would have seen his fight with the Dark Lord in the graveyard by now and most would be reluctant at best to engage the new lord in such a way.

The coming weeks and months would certainly be interesting.

The Blacks had traditionally been darker in political ideology, but with Harry having so many enemies that could usually be counted upon as allies, it was anyone's guess just what he would do, and as she looked into his calculating eyes, she could see his mind working, pondering just that.

Up Next…

Harry visits the Wizengamot and Bellatrix… Sirius decides on Dumbledore's offer and Harry has his own decisions to make.