Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to them.
"Hi Hermione," Harry greeted happily on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. "Need help with your trunks?"
"Thank you," Hermione smiled brightly. "Are you already settled in?"
"Yup," Harry answered. "Third carriage back, middle compartment on the right. I'll show you."
"You must be the Grangers," Sirius greeted the adults accompanying Hermione as their charges started loading her trunks onto the Hogwart's Express. "I'm Sirius Black, Harry's guardian and godfather. Harry's told me quite a bit about Hermione. Seems they both love their books."
"That's an understatement," Mrs. Granger laughed. "We've heard all about Harry as well. I'm glad she's going in with at least one friend beside her. She's struggled with making friends her whole life."
"If they are going to be friends, and I have no doubt they will be, there are some things I should probably tell you about. If you were magical, you'd probably already know most of it, but you deserve a heads up about Harry's history."
"That sounds ominous," Mr. Granger probed. "Should we be worried for Hermione?"
"Not while she is at Hogwarts, no," Sirius reassured. "If you have time, let's get lunch after we wave the kids off, my treat. There is a good magical restaurant a few blocks away that is quite good. My fiancé is meeting me there and it would be no problem having you join us. We can set up another time too, if you prefer."
"We had planned on taking the day off, so we are free," Mrs. Granger said as their children returned to say their goodbyes. "Lunch sounds lovely."
"Bye Padfoot," Harry shouted out the train window a little while later. Their goodbyes were said and their journey to Hogwarts had begun.
"I read through Charlus Thompson's Governance by Magic like you suggested," Hermione started after the train left the station. "His ideas about being part of a magical contract without your consent seems wrong to me. Am I missing something?"
"There are lots of bad reasons to have a non-consensual binding magical contract, like slavery and forced marriages and stuff, but not all the reasons are bad," Harry explained. "Merlin made one for a very good reason. Back then, magic was more open. This was before the Statute of Secrecy, and the magical clans fought each other constantly. It got to a point where only a few magical clans were left. Merlin created an Ironclad magical contract for all of the witches and wizards in Britain, a magical contract to prevent the destruction of magical bloodlines."
Over the last month, Harry and Hermione had traded daily letters about the magical world and its strange quirks. Sometimes twice a day, if the owls were up for it. It had taken a few weeks, but Harry had finally gotten Hermione out of the habit of immediately disregarding magical tradition because it didn't match up with the Muggle world. He pushed her to disregard a magical tradition because it was objectively useless instead of subjectively outdated. She now looked for the why before making a judgment, at least most of the time.
The latest conversation on magical contracts stemmed from a conversation about the Educational Contract made between the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which led to them talking about the Hogwarts Educational Contract made by students when they returned their answer to their Hogwarts letter, which had led to talking about the fact that Hermione unwittingly entered into a magical contract when she accepted learning at Hogwarts, which led to their current topic of unbreakable hereditary magical contracts.
"More pureblood propaganda?" Hermione sighed, but lacking the disdain she might have put into it a month ago. "What's so special about magical bloodlines anyways? It's not like I'm less of a witch because of who my parents are."
"One reason some purebloods spout off about purity and supremacy and such nonsense is because long lines of magicals tend to produce more unique family magic. Think of it as a recessive gene, like blond hair or dimples, but for affinities to certain types of magic. The Black family has quite a few metamorphs, the Bones family has an affinity for necromancers, and Slytherin is known for being parseltongues. A muggleborn can have these gifts, but it is more rare than if you were of a certain bloodline, around twenty times less likely in the case of metamorphs and the Black family," Harry said. "Now, Thompson is a bigot and a horrible human being, but he assumes using magical binding contracts that are passed through magical bloodlines keep those bloodlines alive. I don't know if it's right or not, since You-Know-Who wiped out dozens of families and nearly destroyed hundreds more pureblood bloodlines, but Thompson wrote it before he came to power."
"Why don't you say his name? You had no problem writing Voldemort in your letters."
"Respect for others, mostly," Harry answered. "Lots of folk suffered because of him, and every second generation magical on this train has a family member who died or knows someone who has a family member who died in that war. It's considered polite not to wave that name in their faces unless absolutely necessary. I have no problem writing it, but unless I need to I don't say his name where others might overhear."
"That makes sense. Unlike hereditary contracts, which still doesn't make sense to me. I get the What and the How, I just can't fathom a Why that outweighs the potential for abuse."
"If the head of a bloodline makes a heredity magical contract, it applies to everyone of that bloodline, forever, until the contract is fulfilled. Familial alliances and international treaties are magically binding, which forces everyone to abide by them. There are dozens of magically international treaties that prevent witches or wizards from intentionally putting the Statute of Secrecy in danger or from completely ending a magical bloodline. Most don't know it, but learning magic at Hogwarts enters you into that same magical contract to not completely kill off other bloodlines. It's something the Founders of the school set up."
"Is the head of a bloodline different from the head of a magical house?" Hermione inquired. Governance by Magic had used the two terms interchangeably, so she had assumed they were synonyms.
"From what I learned from the goblins, being the Head of a Bloodline is different from being the Head of a House, which is different from being a Lord of a House. Bloodlines are controlled by magic, and no one can interfere with who is the Head of a Bloodline. Heads of Houses are controlled by Gringotts, and are determined by their unchangeable laws of succession, which use wills and heirs and stuff. The Lords and Ladies of a noble house are assigned by the Wizengamut and the Ministry of Magic, and can be manipulated by the current Lords and Ladies votes, but rarely is because it would set a bad precedent. Pretty much all of the time, one person has all of the titles, but on the rare occasion they are different people."
"If there are binding magical contracts that prevent ending a magical bloodline, how did You-Know-Who kill so many?"
"Loopholes," Harry summed up. "The text of the actual contracts Merlin wrote centuries ago have been lost to modern scholars, but we know there are rare circumstances that sometimes line up to make someone immune to the contracts. I think You-Know-Who was in one of the loopholes. Since he was the last of his bloodline, Magic wouldn't allow others to kill him, but he could kill others without any problem or backlash. Even muggle methods of killing him will be stopped or hindered by magic. Rasputin in Russia proved that. He is the last known wizard or witch proven to have that immunity."
"That is scary," Hermione whispered. "No wonder he was so feared."
"One of many reasons," Harry nodded. "The loopholes You-Know-Who used rarely apply to someone, and maybe once every other century it comes into play with a Dark Lord rising up. You really don't know if the loopholes apply to you unless you try to end a bloodline, which doesn't happen often. If there was an unfettered magical war without those contracts in place, it would annihilate entire countries, muggle and magical alike. Atlantis is one example of what happens when magical war has no restraint, and no one wants a repeat of that. These contracts keep the peace between forces that can bend reality to their whim."
"Speaking of bending things to your whim, I just had a conversation with Pansy," interrupted a voice from the carriage door. There stood two girls, both in well-crafted first year Hogwarts robes.
"Hermione Granger, meet Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis," Harry introduced. "How is Pansy doing, Daphne?"
"Hello Hermione, nice to meet you after hearing so much about you from Harry," Daphne greeted with a polite head nod, before turning to Harry. "Last week she got a letter from Gringotts saying she was officially your property. She's afraid to approach you because you are the famous Harry Potter and she is apparently your slave."
"You're Harry Potter?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted. "You said your name was Harry Black."
"Technically, my full name is Harry James Potter-Black-Peverell-Slytherin-LeStrange-Travers-Gaunt," Harry said, saying his hyphenated last name conglomeration in a single breath and as quickly as he could. "I go by Harry Black because I don't like people looking at me like I'm famous, and it's a bit of a mouthful."
"But you are famous," Hermione pushed.
"Yeah, famous because my parents are dead. Not exactly something to be proud about."
"Sorry," Hermione apologized, chastised. "I didn't, I mean . . ."
"Forget about it," Harry reassured with a wave of his hand and a friendly smile. "I love my parents, and will always honor them and bear their name, but it doesn't mean I'll let others use my fame or their sacrifice for their own ends. I don't like waving it around just to seem popular."
"Are we just going to ignore that fact that Harry now has seven last names?" Tracey broke in before turning to Daphne. "Did you know about this?"
"That Harry is the head of seven separate houses? Yes, yes I did. I told you I had a juicy secret, but you didn't want to cash in your favor marker to find out what. Maybe next time you will believe me when I tell you it's worth it."
"But that means that," Tracey pushed before being interrupted by Daphne.
"Yes, it means a great deal, but we can talk about that later, privately."
"Back to the point, what does Pansy mean she is my slave?" Harry broke in.
"She got a letter from Gringotts saying a contract was activated between the Parkinson bloodline and the LeStrange bloodline. A slave contract, with her specifically as the slave and you specifically as the master. More than that, her family tomes didn't have the contract on record, and her family wasn't able to find out any specifics about the contract from any other source. Lord Parkinson is trying to get a copy of it, but the goblins were not being forthcoming with the details, saying they were protecting client confidentiality. They know you are the Head of LeStrange because of the goblin's letter, but I do not believe they have spread that information to other families before today. Pansy's worried sick, and she is a bit too loose with her words right now."
"You have magical slaves?" Hermione gasped. "That's much different than a treaty or the statute of secrecy or educational contract."
"Yeah, slave contracts do exist, but there are varying degrees of what the goblins consider slaves. The goblins would consider the secretary at your parent's dentist practice to be a slave. The company your parents use to buy their dental tools would be considered a slave to your parents company. Reading exactly what the contract is will determine how bad it is," Harry explained with a sigh, pulling several large tomes from his magical backpack expanded to be bigger on the inside. "In the most common and benign form, a slave contract is a job offer where a future employee promises to work and keep secrets, in exchange for an apprenticeship and payment, and either party can end the agreement and no one is forced to obey anyone. Worst case scenario, she is an absolute slave who is forced to do whatever their master says with no way to break it or get help or have any independent thought, and if the slave is female they could be required to have multiple children. In between those extremes are servants, marriages, concubines, and a couple others I can't remember right now, but they pretty much cover any type of agreement or arrangement two people could possibly have."
"Which type is hers?" Daphne asked a second before Tracey and Hermione could.
"This is the first I've heard of it. I've only gone through the Potter and Black account books so far, and they only have simple employee and standard servant contracts in them, nothing anyone can't get out of on their own. Let me grab the LeStrange book," Harry said, looking at the spines of the books he took out of his bag as he continued to mutter. "This is Travers, this is Gaunt, ahh, LeStrange."
Harry held up a black leather bound tome five inches thick. The front was inscribed with the words iLeStrange Family Accounts/i in blood red ink. Knowing the goblins and the LeStranges, it was probably blood. He hastily pushed the books for the other houses back into his bag.
"I got these from Gringotts a month ago, a few days after I met you, Hermione. Sirius told me to read and study them all before winter holidays, so I know what's going on with those houses. Guess I'm getting a head start on the LeStranges," Harry tried to laugh as he flipped the book open to the index. "Individual contracts are on page three hundred and ninety four."
Hermione switched seats to sit next to Harry on his right, while Daphne took his left. Tracey smirked and sat across from the three, watching them closely. She was interested in the answer, along with sneaking a peak at the LeStrange accounts, but wasn't going to fight Daphne for a seat next to the Boy-Who-Lived-But-Hated-The-Title. She was more concerned with how they were interacting on their subconscious level. So much insight.
"Here it is," Harry said to himself after flipping through a dozen completed and open contracts before getting to the one with the Parkinson family, with Harry and Pansy's names magically added in as the subjects of the contract. "Looks like Pansy's great-grandfather made the contract with Corvus LeStrange. It's a standard level two binding concubine contract."
"Is that good or bad for Pansy?" Tracey asked. "I haven't studied magical contract theory in the last eleven years of my life, so I'm a bit rusty on it."
"One of my tutors went through them with me a few months ago, when I was getting ready for my inheritance test," Harry started. "Hermione, I'll let you borrow a good book that goes through all the different types, including the more rare ones. Pansy is in a Standard contract. That type of contract means it can only be nullified by both Lord Parkinson and Lord LeStrange, and the clauses in the contract will activate when she turns seventeen. Simple contracts can be broken by either party, and Ironclad contracts can't be broken at all. The age requirement for activating a marriage or concubine contract can vary from the full moon after her first period to when both people reach their majority at seventeen. If the contract isn't broken, Pansy will have to have at least two children for the Parkinson bloodline, that's the level two part. Binding means she is bound to follow my every command to the letter, but doesn't have to follow the intention of my command. If it was Non-Binding, she doesn't have to follow my commands, while Fettered means she has to obey the intention of my commands, not just the literal command."
"That's horrible," Hermione cried. "Why would anyone do that to their children?"
"You'd have to ask them, Hermione, because I don't know. The contract doesn't go into the circumstances of the contract. Family records might have more details, but all those books are at Gringotts or with the Parkinson's," Harry shook his head.
"For some perspective, Hermione, my parents used a standard level two non-binding contract when they got engaged," Daphne offered. "Think of it as a pre-nuptial agreement. Pansy's contract is not unusual for arranged marriages, especially for when it was written."
"Tracey, could you do me a huge favor and ask Pansy to join me, but only if she wants to. If she wants to bring anyone else along too, including you, I don't mind."
"Sure thing, but I'll be holding you for a huge favor of my own," Tracey grinned before bouncing up out of her seat.
"I didn't mean it like that," Harry complained.
"Too bad," Tracey shouted as she ran out of the room. "It was offered and I accepted."
"That's going to come back to bite me, isn't it?" Harry asked no one in particular.
"You bet it is," Daphne smirked. "And I think I might know what she might use it for."
"Any chance you'd tell me without asking for a favor of your own?" Harry hoped.
"None," Daphne's smile grew even bigger.
"I think I'll just let it surprise me, then. I already owe you two more favors, I don't want it to be three. Being your mule for shopping last week was bad enough."
"You big baby," Daphne patted Harry on the head. "I have a few more people I need to network with before we reach Hogwarts. I'll talk with you tonight if you are in Slytherin, or tomorrow if you aren't."
With that, Daphne left Harry and Hermione alone.
"Do you think you have any more slaves you don't know about?" Hermione questioned, her previous excitement over learning magic dampened by what she'd learned. She didn't think Harry would abuse the situation, but slavery of any kind didn't sit well with her, including the unintentional type.
"I hope not, but knowing the LeStrange family, I probably do," Harry shrugged before opening the LeStrange Family Accounts book again. "Not to mention some of the other families I inherited when You-Know-Who was killed were pureblood fanatics. Sorry about this all, I know I ruined your mood. The first train ride to Hogwarts is supposed to be fun."
"It's not you, it's just, I hadn't thought there would be slavery still around, and I didn't think magic would be involved with it."
"Bad people will do bad things with whatever tool they can use," Harry shrugged. "It's just sad that something as amazing and wonderful as magic can be twisted so badly. Thankfully this type of thing is extremely rare nowadays. Even standard non-binding contracts like the Greengrass family are rare now-a-days. Luckily, this one is fairly easy to correct, if a bit awkward for everyone involved. If you don't want to stay when I talk with Pansy, you don't have to."
"I think I'll stay, for now," Hermione decided. Harry was her first friend, and she didn't want to lose that, at least not right now over what could be a misunderstanding. If he was a decent person, she'd want to support him. Plus, she didn't know where else she could go. She didn't want to think about if he wasn't decent.
"You, you wanted to see me," Came a timid voice from the door, the second interruption of the trip.
"Pansy Parkinson, I presume," Harry gently probed. She had heard of the Parkinson family and Daphne had told her about Pansy in particular, but he'd never actually met her before. When she nodded, Harry motioned to the seat opposite from him. He could tell she had been crying, but she hid it well. A larger built girl joined her.
"This is Millicent Bullstrode, my friend," Pansy introduced. In a fight Millicent would prove a valuable ally. In a battle of wits, she was a wild card.
"Hermione Granger," Hermione held out her hand, which the other two girls shook uneasily. Both Pansy and Millicent sat down.
"Pansy, I want you to know that I didn't know anything about the contract until Daphne came to see me just now," Harry started softly and slowly. "I'm not going to give you any orders or commands. Do you mind if Hermione stays, or would you prefer to speak with just me?"
"I don't mind."
"Thank you. Have your parents gone over magical contracts with you? Do you understand what a standard level two binding concubine contract is?"
"I am familiar with it," Pansy sniffed. "My mother reviewed with me all types of contracts since we got the letter from Gringotts, even the House Elf contracts."
"Good. That makes things easier," Harry sighed in relief. "Assuming your father agrees and you want out of the contract, I'll break it. Unfortunately, I can't until I officially become Lord LeStrange, which won't be until I turn seventeen or get emancipated by the Ministry. Until then, and this isn't an order, I just want you to live however you want. The contract shouldn't take effect until after we are both adults, but I don't know if there are hidden clauses for obeying before the main clauses kick in. Just in case, I don't want you to take anything I say to you as an order, but that isn't an order either. This is getting confusing."
"Thank you," Pansy shrieked, before launching herself at Harry in a ferocious hug. "I'll write to mum and dad right away. They've been searching high and low trying to figure this out. The Malfoys were looking to set up a contract for me, but they couldn't with our contract in place. Now dad can go ahead with it. Thank-you thank-you thank-you thank-you."
"No problem," Harry replied, bewildered at her show of emotions. "I'll send them a copy of the contract when I can."
A moment later, Pansy began blushing and stammered a goodbye before retreating out the door, followed by Millicent who hadn't said a word the entire time.
"I think I'll just look at these later," Harry broke the silence that had descended between Harry and Hermione, putting the LeStrange family accounts book away with the others.
"Has anyone seen my toad?" came the third interruption of the day, and a very welcome one at that.
After a long night skimming his accounts books for more contracts involving him, Harry fell asleep. Instead of his usual tutors, two people appeared that he hadn't seen in a long, long time.
"Mom, Dad," Harry cried, rushing to embrace them. As before, he passed right through them. "Right, I forgot."
"It's alright son. Your first night at Hogwarts is one of the special occasions Death has let us visit you," Lily Potter smiled. "I'm so proud of you, Gryffindor is lucky to have you."
"The hat was tempted to put me in Slytherin because of, well you know, me being a parseltongue and being trained by him and all, but it gave me the choice, and I kinda wanted to be in your house. Is that too sappy? Padfoot would say it was sappy."
"And Padfoot can lick his own balls," James Potter smirked, right up until the point that his wife slapped him upside the head. "I deserved that."
"That's right you do," growled Lily. "He's heard enough of that language from Sirius, he doesn't need his father adding to it."
"Maylzred teaches me bad words too," Harry volunteered cheekily, eliciting a laugh from his dad.
"Other languages don't count, especially if others don't understand it," Lily clarified. "You should be raised to be polite and well mannered."
"I am well mannered," Harry pouted before clarifying. "When I need to be."
"So, Harry, tell me how you've been," James prompted, starting a night of pure joy and utter embarrassment that only talking to one's long lost parents could produce.
"Harry, you look horrible," Hermione observed the next morning as she came down the steps from the girls dormitories. Harry was staring into the cold fireplace, face weary.
"Yeah, I finished going through all my accounts last night, then had a good dream, but then I woke up early to send some very awkward letters. Is there an easy way to tell someone they are your slave? If there is, let me know because I couldn't think of one."
"At least you can release them when you turn 17."
"Not all of them," Harry glumly admitted. "There are some contracts that are ironclad, and thus unbreakable. They are usually made by horrible people for evil reasons. But I can't ignore the contracts either. The moment I turned eleven, some of the contracts activated, and if I do nothing, the people affected will eventually lose their magic and maybe their lives. In some respects, it's worse than a House Elf contract."
"Why would anyone ever use ironclad contracts?"
"According to my Magical Law tutor, the best reason to use them is to end wars and blood feuds, or as a less severe punishment for capital crimes. If there were two families who wanted to end a generations old fight, like the Capulets and Montagues, they would write out an ironclad contract to exchange family members, making it impossible for anyone to break the contract and restart the feud without sacrificing family. Or instead of throwing a family member through the veil of death or into Azkaban for life, they would sell them to another family as a servant or slave to serve out their punishment. More economical than throwing them to the dementors or killing them."
"How many?" Hermione quietly asked. "How many slaves do you have?"
"Seven contracts, at least I was able to find seven standard or ironclad contracts. I skipped over scores of simple ones since those are all voluntary and there is no rush on addressing them. Luckily, everyone affected by the standard and ironclad ones are here at school, so that will make things even more super-awkward but convenient to address. I already sent a note to Professor McGonagall to let her know the basics of the situation. She should talk with the other heads of houses so they know too."
"Do the best you can," Hermione tried to comfort. She had spent her night going through the book on magical contracts Harry had given her the evening before, and she sympathized with those hurt by the barbaric practice. If she was honest with herself, she was afraid for them. Everything she knew about Harry told her he was a kind person, but she would be the first to admit she didn't have experience judging people's characters, and she knew power did strange things to those who wield it. She could be wrong about Harry. She hoped she wasn't.
"Let's go to breakfast," Harry suggested, getting up from the chair he was in and heading to the entrance. Hermione walked beside him. They both went in silence.
