Chapter 22 - Family
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Saying things would be alright and truly believing they would be were very different things indeed. She had been saying, trying to convince herself, that Harry would be able to fully recover since the first moment she had seen the tiny child trying to battle an inner monster made up of all the ways the world had failed her, but seeing the amount the child suffered had hardly filled her with hope.
That she would survive the night had not even been a certainty at first, and in the nearly two days of unconsciousness that followed Narcissa had done any and everything possible to force herself not to think about how much of the child she knew, had grown to care for, might be lost. She knew admittedly little about Obscuruses, only the stuff of stories that the adults would tell to keep you in line, or the girls in her dormitory would whisper to each other after dark when they grew tired of gossip and chose fear-mongering instead. Those stories, however, were enough to leave a very firm impression. They were monsters, corrupted pieces of magic borne of pain and destined to want nothing but to inflict more of it. They destroyed indiscriminately, would kill where they could, were uncontrollable and the reason a killing curse was needed in the world. The child itself, for it always was a child, was rarely mentioned or thought about other than as a pithy opening, a villain's backstory and the villain's first victim combined.
That couldn't be true though, not for Harry at least. There was no doubt it was an Obscurus, no accidental magic looked or felt like that, but she had controlled it. That meant there had to be hope, so long as pulling that awful power back inside her hadn't simply directed the carnage inwards, hadn't chosen her to eat away at and break down Harry instead.
But she couldn't think about that, not when there was nothing she could do to verify it until the child opened hi—her eyes. So instead, she designed a room. She had been idly imagining one for weeks now, though of course she had always dismissed the thoughts as nothing but an outlet for creative energy that would never really come to fruition. Books were the first thing, and a desk, for Harry was serious and studious in a way she didn't expect Draco to grow into for many years, if he ever did.
Narcissa herself had never been bookish in that way. None of them had been, really. Bellatrix had drive, and obsessional impulses, but they were never satiated by school. Sirius was… well, Sirius, smart but more defiant than anything else. Reggie had been the most scholarly, she supposed, but even then everything he did seemed to be burdened by his being his parents second chance and last hope. Then there was Andy. Andy had been… Narcissa honestly couldn't say. She didn't say anything about her now, not when her sister had already proven that she was the one person who could convince Narcissa of one thing while really being something entirely different.
Narcissa was a high achiever, scored top marks and was many teacher's favourite, but she was that way because that was what was expected of her and because that would get her where she wanted to be in life, not because she felt any fervent desire or impulse to learn for the sake of it. The sorting hat had never even considered Ravenclaw for her for precisely that reason. The exception to this rule was her drive to delve deeper into what magic really was, but even then it wasn't academia she looked to for answers but rather seeking a personal connection, working out words to describe what she already felt and using that to, in turn, feel more.
Harry was different. She didn't go on about books or learning, never bragged about her knowledge and, at most times, seemed reluctant to reveal h—she had any at all, but there was no denying the spark of wonder in her eyes every time she learnt something new or was given the opportunity to do so. That was, undoubtedly, what had caused her to warm up (relatively speaking) to Severus far faster than she would have otherwise expected. Harry was wary, cautious, almost paranoid when it came to trust and never seemed to relax around adults (she should have acknowledged that as a far greater warning sign than she had at the time), but Narcissa could tell when Harry had begun to, however reluctantly, trust her. It had taken a while, and Narcissa had done nothing at all to warrant wariness, had been actively inclusive and caring the whole time. Narcissa didn't have to be in the room of Severus' potions lessons to know he did not act the same way. The man was stern, harsh, came off as uncaring and made no efforts to hide that he was, in fact, very dangerous. She honestly liked him, but it was oftentimes infuriating to bear witness to his all-too-Slytherin inability to display any level of vulnerability or compassion, as if it were a deadly weakness that needed to be expelled from his personality. It saddened her to think that the man probably genuinely believed that.
And yet, mere weeks after meeting him, Narcissa saw Harry begin to open up, however slightly, to the potions master. Unlike with Lucius her face didn't close down the second he entered a room, and she didn't draw in on herself in quite the same way. She hid it well, but Narcissa was an expert at knowing what people wanted, even when they were denying it to themselves, and she could tell the child longed for both her and Severus' approval. Harry had read the potions periodicals, had quickly and deeply fallen in love with the art in a way Narcissa could only imagine Severus must have as well at around that age — by Hogwarts the boy was already an expert as well as a natural talent — and no matter how much she tried not to draw attention to her brains, she clung onto every word he said about the subject as if she were trying to memorise each syllable, which perhaps she was.
So books were a must. The rest was more of a question, and one she reached out to Draco to answer. It had pleased her, as she grew to actually like Harry and view her as more than a curiosity and something her son could benefit from, to see that the child did still possess a capacity for play. The studious ones often didn't, as once identified as such it was assumed that was all they were and, socially removed from their peers, adults' approval became vital and that would only be achieved by continuing to surpass their expectations. That, or they grew apart from the world and took refuge in creating a tranquil sanctuary of thought inside their own minds. A few more years without them and Narcissa thought Harry would have been like that, would have blocked out the world and been nothing more than a repository for deep thought and wonderings with far too little to ground her, but when with Draco it was clear there was still, somehow, the spark of youth that she treasured seeing in them both.
It would also be good to have Draco on hand so she could make sure he was coping with all the recent revelations. She was still reeling from learning that Hadrian Owens was really Harriet Potter, and had opted for selectively avoiding taking the time to process it until she had more facts to ponder over. Draco had seemed to accept it with childlike ease, along with the almost-promise that Harry would be fine after her 'magical outburst', but her son was smart and as he grew up was naturally beginning to think things through a little more deeply, and to keep that pondering to himself.
She didn't think he knew how much danger he had been in when he had charged towards his friend, right through that storm of magic. Narcissa wasn't sure she would ever stop feeling an echo of the panic she had felt when she saw her baby in that situation, and was all but certain that nightmares would be frequent in her future. Seeing him healthy, happy and alive, did help though, and for all Draco might look like a Malfoy there was no denying he was her son when they were both put in a room and given the chance to outfit it to their tastes.
It took them the full day, and many hours of hastily booked private appointments at the finest shops in Diagon Alley combined with scouring the Manor's endless guest rooms, to come up with something they were happy with, and then it was time to move Harry in. She didn't want Draco to see hi—her, not until the bruises had faded a little more, and was thankful they had finished so late and he would have to go to bed before the move was done.
While her son was getting ready she took a moment to look around the room and try and convince herself that it would one day be used. It was beautiful, but pristine in a way no child's room was, no matter how often it was cleaned. The only hint of life in it were the worn books Severus had somehow had the presence of mind to retrieve from the child's former residence (she would never call it a home), and she looked at the bizarre collection and felt her heart ache. Eight years of life, and that was all she had to call hers. Opening one of the covers she saw a stamped label of 'library', so that much probably wasn't even true.
Unbidden, horrific thoughts of what might have happened to Draco had she and Lucius not made it though the war raced through her mind. She had never fought, but being a civilian had hardly meant safety in those times, and there was no doubt that Lucius had been in danger. There were some others of Malfoy blood, but none were even remotely close and the only ones with even some level of real prestige lived overseas. Besides, while the Blacks may have been dormant the last few years their name did carry more weight and so it would be they with the most claim. Poor Reggie was gone, and far too young besides, and Sirius had obviously suffered some kind of mental break to do any part of what he was convicted for (not that she would have ever let him raise her child in any case). Narcissa would never have trusted Bellatrix alone with her son (or anyone at all for that matter) for even a minute and while logically she felt sure that Andy would at least care for her baby, the sting of her sis—that woman's, betrayal, still hurt enough that the thought of Draco going to her made her tremble.
That had left far too few choices for comfort. She had insisted Severus be made godfather, but never really expected the man to raise her child should the worst happen. He was in as deep, if not deeper, than Lucius so would hardly be a safe option, but she knew he stood by his word and had seen enough of the child he once was before the world forced him to don his emotional armour to know that he would, however secretly, care. He would raise her son if he had to, and he would do it right even if it did not come naturally, but he would also know what strings to pull to get Draco somewhere safe, with or without him. Severus was a spy, a good enough one that Narcissa thought a victory of either side would be a victory for him. No matter what way things turned, the young man would be well placed to keep Draco safe.
Narcissa sighed, chiding herself for falling back into those same panic-fuelled wormholes of thought that had occupied so much of her time during Draco's infancy. They weren't at war, Draco wasn't at risk of suffering the same tortures Harry had. But why had Harry suffered them at all? Her parents were both fighters, they would have known the risks and they would have made contingency plans, even if they were Gryffindors with more spirit than sense. More than that, the girl had ended the war, was the reason Draco had only grown up in its shadow rather than amongst the blood and viscera of it all. How could she have ended up where she did, abandoned and forgotten, knowing nothing but pain and kept ignorant of the world she had saved? It was evil, unforgivable, and Narcissa felt a longing for vengeance she wasn't sure she had ever felt quite so strongly before.
But she couldn't go off firing spells to dispel her anger, she was far more proper than that. No, her duty was to see Harry well, and this room was a good first step.
The elves moved her in, and her pale, sickly form looked hopelessly dwarfed by the bed. She looked as close to death as life, and oh so lonely. She had lived her life with no one, grown up completely alone in the world. At least that wasn't the case any more.
She had Narcissa now. And Draco. And probably Severus, and Lucius if he intended to avoid Narcissa's ire. They might not be blood, but so long as they were smart and played their cards right and Harry awoke and recovered Narcissa truly did believe it would be possible to keep the girl. There was no way they could let her go after those in charge (Dumbledore, it seemed) had failed so miserably before.
She would become a part of their family, just as Narcissa had (however generally) wished for at Litha. It had been an accident, really. She always wished for the wellbeing of her family, and most of all her son, but this time as she threw her band over the fire she hadn't been able to stop herself from picturing Harry standing among them. She wasn't sure, didn't want to think, that magic could have responded to that thought and enacted any of this, but Narcissa felt a connection to the Old Ways far deeper than most and couldn't deny that, in her heart at least, it felt like a possibility.
She only hoped Harry felt the same way, when (if) she was well enough to decide. She thought she would, but she knew now just how damaged the girl really was, and broken trust is hard to repair. If Harry had stopped trusting the world, there was no guarantee she would progress any further in coming to trust them then she had already.
A gesture was needed, Narcissa suddenly thought, and in an instant she knew what it had to be. Proceeding to the Library she easily located the book on mannerisms that had been passed down from woman to woman in her family for so many years, the one some instinct had told her to let Harry read long before she cared for Harry as she did now, and when she had still thought she was a boy. She had known the child would appreciate it, and that was still true. Since the first time she had given it to her the book had felt like hers, anyway, and Harry was clever enough to know what the gesture meant.
Placing the new book beside all Harry's old ones Narcissa forced herself to admit the job of the room was done. Now all she had to do was hope the child would wake and be in a position to enjoy it.
Harry did wake the next day, and to Narcissa's shock and delight seemed entirely lucid and completely herself. The elation quickly wore off. The conversation that followed had been torture, both because of what Harry had known and what she hadn't. She hadn't known who she was, hadn't known how her parents died or why they did or even what their names had been. She had known the colour of the curse that had nearly killed her, had remembered the moment it struck.
It was an awful realisation, and Narcissa knew no comfort she could give her. The look in the girl's eyes had been so distant, so pained and so sure, and Narcissa didn't think she would ever be able to forget it.
But she had been lucid, and that was something. It gave Narcissa hope, and she knew her next mission was to work to repair what had been broken long before Harry had ever met them, the parts the monsters that were her relatives had forced into her over years of pain.
Only that didn't work out quite as planned. Harry might put on a brave face and try to act like she was fine, but no matter how good an actor she was there was no way anyone could be fine after what she had been through.
Narcissa didn't expect getting her to open up would be easy, but she was equally certain that it was necessary for her recovery, and Harry's constant rebuffs were devastating to watch. With every false smile, half finished plate or polite refusal to talk she could practically feel the toll it was taking on the girl's very being. It was little surprise when her magic exploded again, and seeing the girl's room unoccupied the day of her second 'episode' had filled her with dread almost matching the first.
Severus had done a surprisingly good job calming her down after that, and despite her probing had provided very little explanation as to how. She couldn't deny that some small part of her was jealous as the child continued to remain at relative ease in the man's presence, while with each passing day Harry grew more tense around her. She tried not to push Harry towards any conversations she did not want to have for fear of being the cause of yet another episode, but doing nothing would be equally bad, and as the bags under the child's eyes grew Narcissa found herself wondering how much longer they could last like this. Brewing seemed to calm her, something Severus was only somewhat quietly smug about, but spending her entire life in a potions lab would not be a viable solution.
As it turned out, that wasn't even a solution at all, for it was a potions lesson that did it. Since Harry had awoken she had not worried (or at least not let herself worry) about any real potential Harry's magic might have to harm them. When Severus alerted her to Draco's injury she instantly assumed it was a mistake in the potion rather than anything related to the obscurus, and everything she saw when she rushed to attend him confirmed that position. Draco was burned and sobbing noisily from the pain, and the remnants of an exploded potion caked the room.
She didn't think of anything else at first, just rushed to attend her son. It was only after she and Severus had treated him that she realised what Harry's absence must mean.
"The potion, did it scare her?" She asked breathlessly. Snape's mouth tightened like it was trying to lock away an expression.
"No, she was already scared, though of what I do not know. The potion was previously inert, I haven't been allowing the brewing of anything with a low volatility threshold for either of them, she… charged it somehow."
'Oh, Harry,' was all Narcissa could think. Everything had been heading in this direction, but it still hurt to see it come through. She was getting worse, and if progress couldn't be made soon… she didn't want to think.
"It wasn't Harry's fault!" Draco interjected, tear tracks still streaked down his face. "He, uh, she didn't mean for it to happen."
"I know, dragon" Narcissa soothed, cupping her son's cheek in her hand. She didn't blame Harry, she knew all that laid on her foul excuses for family, but seeing Draco exclaim it so adamantly settled something in her chest. Her little boy was growing up fast, and thanks to Harry it seemed to be heading in the right direction. Mere months before she had no doubt he would still be behaving as he did when he was a toddler, blaming others for every harm that came to him and holding a grudge for as long as he could remember it. He hadn't talked to Blaize for months, once, after the boy dared to mock his hair. Of course Narcissa hadn't quite forgiven the boy for that either, but she was a mother so it was her prerogative.
"I will check on him," Severus interjected quietly, slipping out the room and turning in the direction of the dungeons where they both presumed Harry went after her brief loss of control. Narcissa took Draco to his room, stopping on the way to order an elf to prepare a mug of hot chocolate for him.
When Severus returned it was all too clear something was wrong. She stepped out of the room quickly, and hearing she was gone both felt inevitable and took her breath away in panic. This couldn't be happening, not again. She raced to the child's room, but there was no one there. The room was eerily silent, and as she looked around she saw that the shelf of books was emptier than it had been before. That could mean only one thing. She had left.
"Foolish child," she cursed under her breath, and turned back to Severus who was looking equally grim and, if she was not mistaken, hiding in his expression the same panic she felt.
"Lucius has access to the wards, he should be able to tell us," she snapped, and the two paced away again.
They flew into his study in a storm of determination and worry, and Lucius looked up quickly.
"Harry's gone," she snapped, and her husband paled.
"Where?" He demanded.
"We don't know. Has she left the wards?"
"I—" Lucius cut himself off, and quickly marched over to the wall which slid to reveal a small runic chamber. He entered without preamble, leaving the others locked outside, and when he emerged a few minutes later with what passed for a relieved expression she could barely keep herself from sinking to the floor.
That didn't mean they knew where she was, of course, but Narcissa wasn't going to wait and plan while the child could be in pain somewhere or getting herself into even more of a mess than she already was. The elves were now expressly forbidden from removing anyone from the property without the express permission of either she or Lucius so there was only so far she could have gone, but the Manor was large and the grounds even larger.
It took a long while to find her, and when she did it was almost a shock to see her whole. She was soaked through, looking small and oh so young without the shields of stoicism she so often had erected. It seemed impossible that so great and so terrible a power could reside inside her, and even more that she was able to survive it, though there was no doubting her pure heart.
Narcissa hastily escorted her inside, ignoring the mud on both of them, and sent a signal to the two men to let them know she had her.
The following conversation was, Narcissa realised even then, a turning point. When she asked Harry if she was really fine, she knew that one more denial might break her. The child couldn't keep going on her own, but only she could accept help. When she did, when the words Narcissa had been begging her to say came tumbling out in a whirlpool of gasping sobs, relief battled with heartbreak and she wondered how it was possible that any of them had escaped drowning.
She held the child, then, and for the first time felt Harry relax completely into the embrace. She felt so small, so delicate, though delicate was the last word Narcissa would ever truly use to describe this girl.
Narcissa felt helpless, more out of her depth than she ever had before, but Harry had asked for help. That was the first step, and while the rest would by no means be easy she knew with every part of her that that one would be the hardest. That Harry had done it, that meant there was no doubt she would achieve the rest. Now all that mattered was making sure Narcissa wouldn't fail her.
All her hopes were compounded when Harry accepted being read a story. She wasn't sure exactly why it mattered, but seeing her two children - for they did both feel like hers now - tucked up in bed together, trusting Narcissa to lull them to sleep, felt like the beginning of a journey she was now sure they could face
It was the practicalities that came after. Narcissa needed to determine how to help the child she had come to, of all things, love. Severus' research into Obscuruses and his work on developing potions to counteract the worst of it were experiencing mixed success. Little was actually known about how an obscurus truly functioned, no doubt because no experimenter could ever get close enough to make proper observations, but Harry's unusual case had given the man an unprecedented level of access, and combined with his research from a variety of unknown sources he had been able to determine that there was no physical reason an obscurus couldn't be overcome while there still existed some link between a person and their magic. Severus' potions were no longer being designed to temper Harry's magic, but rather to increase her awareness of and, therefore, connection to it. Only one had been tested, the result being - according to Severus and Draco - many hours of manic monologue about the nature of language. Narcissa had long suspected Harry's awareness of magic was unusually heightened, and thought this could lend credence to the theory as it could explain why she had maintained control thus far, but did worry about what artificially heightening that connection could have on her experience of the world.
The answer couldn't solely lie in potions, however. No non-physical injury ever could. Harry needed to accept her magic, to understand it was something to be cherished rather than feared. All Narcissa needed to do was work out what would make her understand.
There was a difference between understanding and actually being able to believe it, however, and Harry seemed to be an expert at carving a cavern between the two. She knew she was Harriet Potter, of course, but the child still flinched whenever the name was mentioned. Narcissa thought that was must be a part of the wider problem of Harry's magic, and wondered if the child was still clinging onto the hope that she could stay Hadrian Owens for ever.
Part of Narcissa wished she could. Hadrian Owens never would have been destined for a simple or safe life, but it would be far more simple and safe than whatever was in store for the Girl Who Lived. Hadrian Owens was no one, quite literally, and it would be so easy to bring a boy with no past and no people to miss him into their family and keep him safe. Harriet Potter still had no one, besides them, but that didn't mean people wouldn't interfere when it came time to decide her future.
She also very much wanted to keep Harry from any more pain. Hadrian Owens had none of the issues that Harriet Potter did, and knowing it could never be a long term solution didn't stop her wishing it could be any less. But it wouldn't work. There was no way, both practically and for Harry's own health. She would have to accept both her identity and her magic, and if one could lead to the other than that would be all the better.
The answer to the problem felt inevitable, when it did finally arrive. She thought again of the look on Harry's face when she first heard about the Potters, of the desperate hope in her blazing eyes. Narcissa Malfoy was good at reading people. She should have known, should have correctly identified the child's expression the moment she had said the name Potter, and that she hadn't at the time was something she had to make up for now. Family was everything, and if there was one way to assure her that she wasn't alone, it was by showing her just how deeply connected she was to the rest of the magical world. If there was one thing that could show her why being Harriet Potter matters, it would be by learning more about the others who once bore her name.
It was strange, impossible to think that she was working towards making a Potter a part of their family, while also pushing her to learn more about the Light-leaning family. True, Dorea had married one of their paternal line, but neither had any of the weight of titles and since then their families had only branched further and further apart. Part of her wanted to leave it that way, to accept Harry as Harry and train her in the ways of the Dark Families she was a part of, but to deny her her heritage felt wrong on a deeper level than Narcissa could easily describe.
She would make the child hers, if she could. Harry already was hers in her mind, but the child had mistrust woven into her skin and Narcissa knew it would take a long while before she would be anywhere near ready to see things the same way. She was used to being alone, and being the very last of an otherwise extinct line would only compound that, but perhaps there was a way the Potters could still take up the role they would have cherished had they ever had the chance.
Lucius would need to be consulted, of course, before any decisions could be made, but the spark of an idea was lighting up her mind and she felt the sudden need to tell him now, to get things moving.
Her husband was, as was increasingly common these days, holed up in his study doing research. She entered after the barest of knocks, and saw Lucius hastily cover one book with another then try to feign nonchalance. That would have to be pondered over later. The book she could now see was opened onto a family tree, one of the ones old enough that there were more blank spaces than not (a rare thing indeed in wizarding lines).
"Still attempting to discover a lineage basis for the Parseltongue?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, giving her husband the chance to come clean. He didn't.
"Indeed, though the more I look into the Potters the less I understand how they are a recognised line at all. It's as if they appeared out of thin air eight or so generations ago. There's barely a hint before then, and all of them impossible to verify."
"So it's possible it is then?"
"It's possible." It was, but somehow Narcissa doubted it. The idea that the Potters carried a secret Parselmouth trait despite being almost exclusively light leaning in their core line was laughable, and hardly more credible was the idea that it could have resurged after all these years, and that the child it did appear in just so happened to defeat the only other known Parselmouth in Europe as an infant. She didn't know what it was, but she was uncomfortably sure the ability had some link to the Dark Lord. Maybe it was naturally borne, but if so it was the hands of fate that had gifted it to her in anticipation for her meeting with the Dark Lord, of that she was sure.
"Any progress on the Dumbledore front?" She began, starting the conversation on neutral ground where they were sure to agree. Both of them wanted Harry to remain with them, of course, and they equally wanted to destroy Dumbledore, the man who was not only their political rival but had now committed the cardinal sin of daring to neglect his duty to a magical child. Severus had confirmed for them that it was the headmaster who had placed Harry where she had been, and however removed he might try to present himself she could see from the chilling coldness in his eyes that the man was just as furious about his actions as she herself was. Who would have thought that it would be a Potter able to inspire such emotions in the usually stoic man.
"He is still lying low, or so my sources report. I only asked them for general updates of course, it wouldn't do to have this leaked, but the man has done nothing other than cancel a few less urgent appointments. That would lead me to believe he is planning something but…" her husband trailed off, letting Narcissa finish the sentence for himself. He could plan all he liked, but there was no elegant solution to be had, on his end at least, and things were likely to get messy.
"Have you uncovered anything more as to why he chose those people in the first place?"
"Any insight as to whether the abuse was designed or accidental?" Lucius shook his head a little, "it's almost impossible to say. The man's plans are infamous for being both convoluted and usually existing entirely in his own head, none of the players he controls ever knows the whole." Narcissa noted with wry amusement that Lucius couldn't keep some small note of approval from his voice as he spoke of the tactic. She knew just how much her husband longed to be followed so blindly.
"Could the… Dursleys… have any more insight?" Her lip curled over the name in disgust, and she once again felt protective fury rise up in her, though it was really something more than that. Harry was protected from them already, there was no way she would ever allow them close, but she still wanted to find the creatures and grind them down to less then dust, listening to them scream the whole way through.
"That is an avenue I have considered. Unfortunately, though I did send Severus back to the residence yesterday, both to do that and to assess what means of punishment would best fit them, he was unable to get close. At first we thought it might be the original blood wards reformulating and performing the same function as they did when they kept us from tracking Potter, but they were ripped to shreds and it's frankly ludicrous to think the girl could harbour any of the feelings needed to maintain it. The only logical answer is that Dumbledore has erected some new protections to keep us from getting to them." Lucius' face was clouded with annoyance, and Narcissa felt her own blood pulse with fury. Dumbledore was still protecting them? After everything they did? Or was it because they really did hold some secret that Dumbledore couldn't let them get to? the man would undoubtedly believe himself too moral too just kill them… and maybe they were being kept around to still serve some purpose for him and his schemes. That was a terrifying thought. Lucius had started talking again by that point, but she was lost in her own thoughts and decided to just proceed with her original reason for coming here so she could go away again and think.
"I think we should activate Harry's heirships and have her visit the main Potter vault."
"…What?" Lucius stared her incredulously, and she squared her shoulders in defiance. "I thought we had agreed to keep this whole mess quiet until we know Dumbledore's plans and have one of our own."
"I'm not saying we should announce this all to the world, but we don't want to end up on the back foot either and I think it will help Harry."
"Help how?"
"A familial connection may well be what is needed to reconnect her with the positive aspects of her magic. She has nothing of them, by ending the House's dormancy she could at least have some heirloom or artefact, something that could help her see how intrinsic her magic is to her.
"She should see that already."
"I know, and intuitively I think she does, but the fact of the matter is those… people… did all they could to drive it out of her and while they remain her closest blood links in her mind I don't see recovery coming easily."
"We hardly want her coming to idolise the Potters, you know their politics. Far better for any connections formed to be with us." This is what Narcissa had been afraid of, that he wouldn't be able to understand. Lucius' genius came in understanding laws and loopholes. He was powerful, the head of a family, and he played that role exceedingly well. Even when the war was over and he found himself firmly on the wrong side, he had brought them all to safety and continued to shape the politics of their nation with the sort of impunity anyone else would crave. She truly believed he was a good man, no one who cared for her and for their son the way he did could be anything else, but she was under no illusions and knew that he, that they all, would be the villains in many people's stories. She would need to try a different tact.
"I hardly think we are at risk of losing Harry's trust to them, and there would be none to claim her even if it did, but there's more to it than that. They are her blood, there is no escaping that and she will want to know them. Either we do it or someone like Dumbledore will realise we haven't and use it to try and lure her away from us. Who knows what her parents did to their vaults during the war. Dumbledore somehow ended up with control over the girl so who knows what else he could seize if he deemed it necessary. Maybe that's what he's been doing all this time…" the conclusion only came to her as she said it, but it made sense. James Potter had been young and (from what she remembered of their short overlapping period at school, the boy's ill-fated friendship with her cousin and Severus' undying hatred) a chaotic force of immature power and severe lack of thought. There must have been more to him to end up with a child containing as much Slytherin cleverness as Harry, but given the number of men who gave every part of themselves, from their bank accounts to their lives, to the Dark Lord it was to be expected that many would do the same for Dumbledore.
If he had the Potter vaults then he had an important piece of leverage she had no doubt the man would use. She didn't think, no she knew, that Harry wouldn't walk away from them (from Draco especially) because of a few offerings from a man who had already proved he could not be trusted with her safety (though Narcissa was not completely sure the child knew that yet), but the Potter name was Harry's and Harry's alone and Dumbledore could cause untold damage to it if that ever changed.
Lucius had obviously been thinking along much the same lines, for his back was straight and his eyes sharp the way they always were when he was concentrating intently or on the verge of some breakthrough.
"The wills." He finally said simply, and Narcissa blinked in surprise, she hadn't thought about that.
"You think Dumbledore has them?"
"I think that if he doesn't we need to make sure he never gets them. I doubt they have been read, even a fool like James Potter would never stoop so low as to permit actual muggles to raise his child, marrying a mudblood was enough. And hatred like we saw from the Dursleys doesn't appear overnight, I doubt the mudblood herself was ever close to her sister and would not permit it either. If Dumbledore didn't read it it's because he knew he wouldn't like what was inside, and that means we can use it."
"Unless they simply appointed Dumbledore to decide, believing they could trust him." Narcissa pondered out loud, though her excitement was growing, and Lucius agreed with a nod.
"A distinct possibility, and logically speaking even if Dumbledore didn't like the contents that doesn't mean it would work out in our favour, in fact I can't see any way it would. Most likely the old fool decided on the muggles for whatever inane reason he did and simply didn't bother to see sense. That makes ensuring we have the wills even more important, it wouldn't do to give him any legal reasons to move the girl."
"So, Gringotts then?" Lucius paused, then nodded.
"Yes, let Dumbledore think we have enough confidence in our control over the girl to begin securing things with the goblins, perhaps he'll panic and make a mistake. Rumours will begin to spread about the Potter seat being out of dormancy, but given Dumbledore's silence up till now he doesn't want to make hasty moves so it may not change too much. Ideally the will will contain a blood relative default, or at least no stipulations against it, and we can use Dorea Black's presence in the line to assert our claim, and before then there is no reason for anyone to suspect us. This might even make the reveal easier in the long run, as we can claim that disguising the girl's identity on Litha was for her protection due to the precarious nature of her placement with us rather than any ignorance on our part." Narcissa nodded, pleased by how much more useful her idle plan to connect Harry to her family would be.
She wished a blood adoption were possible, but even ignoring just how illegal it was and how obvious it would be to everyone that they had done it when Harry suddenly registered as a Malfoy, there was no telling what effect it could have. It could be done on infants with a relatively low degree of risk (a practice not exactly common but certainly not shied away from in the Black family, at least according to the Grimoire), but the effect was profound on both genetics and magic and, once completed, the person undergoing it was for all intents and purposes not the same person anymore, just a stranger sharing memories and a few lingering features. Harry wasn't just some infant, all potential and possessing no character or personality that could be missed, she was a fully fledged person with unfortunate habits borne from a life of abuse but still someone with as much right to stay who they truly were as anyone else. Would Harry even still be Harry if a blood exchange stopped her liking potions, or even did something so small as changed the way she smiled? No, Narcissa would never want to take part in anything like that.
Instead they would just have to take the longer route, find a back door into either adoption or guardianship and rely on Harry wanting to stay with them to get them where they needed to be. Narcissa had put her foot down when it was suggested that Harry's abuse be leaked to the media in an effort to undermine Dumbledore, but she knew that it was unlikely for things to stay completely hidden forever. All she hoped was that nothing would get so fraught that it would risk Harry's recovery.
The trip to Gringotts had unexpectedly turned into some strange sort of family outing. Severus wouldn't be coming, he had at their insistence (and, she thought, a sense of duty) taken up residence in Malfoy Manor for the summer in order to better aid Harry, but it was clear the man was used to solitude and would use the opportunity to do whatever solitary thing he liked to do.
Draco, on the other hand, had perked up immediately at the mention of the bank and excitedly began describing it to Harry in anticipation of them both going. Draco's ancestral wand box still hadn't opened to him (not that it would be expected to anywhere near so soon) and so there was no real reason for him to accompany them, but since tutoring had ended for the summer Litha had been the only social event Draco had attended and as much joy as he was clearly taking from having Harry around she could see he was getting bored by the lack of other activity.
Besides, other than Harry being spotted or taken, their biggest concern was that she wouldn't be able to cope and her magic would rebel as a result. They already had an elf on hand ready to whisk her away if necessary, but Harry had been working hard to improve in the few days since her breakdown while they had been planning for the trip (she had at least started to eat a little more and come up with a few less excuses to avoid everyone's company) and it was very clear that Draco was the key to keeping her magic calm and contained. If anyone could support her through the turmoil of being reintroduced to the last remnants of a family she had never been given the chance to know, it would be him.
The day itself was far more carefully planned than most of Narcissa's outings, everything designed to keep them all as inconspicuous as possible while they did what they had to do. Dumbledore still hadn't made any moves despite obviously knowing they had Harry, and they wanted to keep things that way for as long as possible. Public rumours would not help that. On top of that, there were other things that had to be taken into consideration.
Security had been improved since Lestrange's attempt on Lucius and subsequent escape, but with so much going on it had been worryingly easy to forget about the man. She knew more investigation would have to be done, but it was Lucius' opinion that the man was simply driven insane by desire for wealth, title and meaning and as he was the one who had been in the room at the time she was inclined to believe him. Besides, his plan had been a failure and she didn't envision him making a better one any time soon.
That didn't mean they weren't being careful though. The Goblins had been notified by letter that a private appointment was required, but no details had been given. It wasn't that they didn't trust the Goblins (the creatures had no interest in wizarding affairs and were paid well for their discretion so were unlikely to spread rumours), but there was always a risk to putting anything down on paper. The front entrance was far too well populated, and even without a mysterious fourth member of their party the Lord, Lady and Heir of a House as prominent as the Malfoys all entering Gringotts would undoubtably attract attention. The back entrance was in Knockturn Alley and while not as dangerous as some of the warning stories might suggest, Narcissa did not want to take the children down there unless absolutely necessary. The Floo Network was Ministry regulated (at least all the approved ones were) so that left a goblin-issued Portkey.
They were not, strictly, legal, but provided immediate transport into one of the few private rooms warded to allow them and while the goblins were known for being grumpy to have to accommodate for the solely wizarding means of travel, merely having to interact with a wizard made them grumpy anyway so that hardly made a difference.
And so, once a letter had been received from their account manager Gornuk containing the charmed, oversized coin, they made their way out to the grounds so as to exit the new anti-portkey wards Lucius had erected since Thuban's escape.
Draco was chatting excitedly as they walked, while Harry nodded along and tried not to draw attention to her deathly pallor and tense frame. When the purpose of the trip had been explained to her it was obvious that Harry was excited to learn a little more about her family, but that had quickly been replaced by nerves that, Narcissa felt sure, had directly contributed to the episode she had suffered yesterday. The bags under Harry's eyes by this point resembled bruises more than anything else, and Narcissa could only hope that the feeling of being surrounded by family magic would give Harry some solace.
They reached the stretch of lawn, and both Harry and Draco took a gulp of the anti-nausea potion Severus had prepared. Draco had only used one a couple of times before, and for Harry this would be her first so the experience of Portkey travel would be a challenge for them both. Hers was also infused with a small dose of calming draught, a calculated risk as while the artificial blanket over her feelings would do nothing to help her overcome the obscurus in the long run, they were not nearing the point at which she would begin to build up a tolerance and it was better than risking the goblins viewing any emergence of the Obscurus as an attack. Those creatures would not hesitate to kill even the so called 'saviour of the wizarding world' if they felt under threat.
The children hadn't learned the appropriate way to land, either, so Lucius firmly grasped Draco's shoulder while Narcissa did the same for Harry, and then they all took off. They landed in a high ceilinged room bracketed by blazing torches, various weapons mounted on the stone walls. The style was unlike any she saw anywhere else, and beside her she felt Harry draw in a small breath of either awe or surprise.
As the youngest daughter of a youngest son Narcissa had never had much reason to venture into Gringotts, her allowance always being handled by her family and no heirships being considered. She had been brought here as a baby, or so she had been told, when her father had withdrawn the accusation of his wife's infidelity that had caused so much trouble at the time, and again after her engagement to Lucius when it came time to survey their now shared assets and sign the necessary forms, but other than that there had been little reason to 'lower herself to engaging with non-humans', or so the men in her life had said.
As such it was only training that kept her eyes from being as wide eyed as Draco's or as obviously curious as Harry's as the stone wall that had previously just appeared cracked with age lit with bronze threads of what looked like some cross between light and molten metal to reveal intricate runes that temporarily created an entrance through which a goblin entered.
Reviewing the cursory glance she had taken upon entering, Narcissa realised then that there were no other doors in this room at all, and she hoped the slight tensing in her shoulders was not noticed by Harry who was still pressed beside her.
"Gornuk," Lucius nodded in greeting, and Narcissa could tell he was working hard to keep the sneer of his face as he looked down at the goblin. He then sat down across the desk, and Gornuk did not return the curtesy of hiding his own.
There were only two other seats in front of the goblin's desk, and Narcissa only just remembered in time the affront it would be to conjure another one. Waving a wand might be, for her, as natural as breathing but it was a magic that goblins did not have and their jealousy lead to vehement opposition.
The issue was resolved when Harry and Draco promptly sat side by side on the same chair, looking just like siblings for all their appearance was different.
The goblin sneered again as he surveyed them, his beady eyes dismissing the familiar, expected presence of the three Malfoys and focussing in on Harry, who from the lack of a glint in his eyes he clearly did not recognise for who she was.
"Business?" Gornuk asked gruffly once he gave up on searching Harry's tense face, distaste colouring his tone. Narcissa tried, and failed, to remember if they had always been quite so hostile. It had always been so easy to dismiss them as nothing but creatures with a foul disposition, but Harry had had enough of hearing harsh tones for a lifetime and she found its manners more of an affront than usual.
"Heirship approval and the unfreezing of associated vaults, assets and wills." Lucius replied curtly, leaving out any mention of seats as unless the Potters had an automatic last-heir age override clause - which she very much doubted - Harry's youth would thankfully prevent the Wizengamot seat and vote from reopening anyway.
"Name of mage and suspected title." The Goblin ordered, looking again at the two children who were the only likely choices for an heirship test. He considered Draco for a second, most probably as a result of the unclaimed Black heirship, but while she could see the hunger in his eyes the possibility was quickly dismissed. Narcissa thought she knew why the hunger was there, and had to hide a shudder. The reactivation of the entirety of the Black finances and property would undoubtedly be appealing for the bank, but the look in the goblin's eyes was, unusually, not one of monetary greed but rather, she thought, a desire for pain. And it was pain that would be caused if Draco underwent judgement for the seat and failed. If he was directly named it would be a different story, but as soon as it had been politically justifiable to do so they had checked on Draco's claim and found that he wasn't. That meant, unless some unknown person was named and hadn't come forward (or Sirius somehow came out of Azkaban, claimed his title as head of the family and bore or named his own) the title would come down to judgement, where it was left for magic itself to deem whether the claimant truly deserved the title. The result of failing that was not only humiliation, but also the complete stripping of associated familial magic and blood for the claimant and all unborn direct descendants. There was little wonder it was so rarely done, and why it would be unthinkable to try on an in matured core.
The Goblin looked to Harry next, correctly guessing that was why she was present with them, and he squinted expectantly while waiting for an answer.
"Harriet Potter, Potter Heirship," Lucius answered after an appropriately long suspension-creating pause. Narcissa saw the goblin's eyes widen for just a second before his facade of disinterest returned. His eye's stayed on Harry, and Narcissa could see how much the attention was grating on the girl. She was thankful that some of the calming draught must still be in effect, and for Draco's steady presence at her side, for despite Harry's discomfort she could feel next to no change in the magic in the room.
"…very well," the goblin answered after a moment, before fiddling with something out of Narcissa's eye line (she was guessing more runes) and withdrawing a thick sheet of parchment. He placed it on the table in front of Harry and beckoned her forward.
"You claim, and are willing to confirm, that you are Harriet Ankaa Potter?" Gornuk asked, and Narcissa's breath caught.
"Ankaa?" Harry asked before Narcissa herself could get a chance. "I have a middle name?" The Goblin looked at her strangely, obviously as confused at her lack of knowledge about herself as Narcissa had been dismayed when the same had been revealed after the child had first awoken. It was, of course, devastating that Harry had grown up so deprived that even her own full name was alien to her, and the open, overwhelmed expression on her face might have broken Narcissa had she allowed herself to look too long, but there was something else important here. Something Narcissa had noticed immediately, but couldn't quite latch onto, almost as if her mind were denying it to herself.
"If you are indeed who you claim to be, then yes," the goblin finally answered. "Do you wish to continue with your claim. Be warned, any false claimants will be handled in the same way as suspected thieves." The goblin's words were sharp, and she saw Harry gulp before nodding. "Very well. In that case, Griphook!" The Goblin touched another supposed rune and called out the name of the Potter account manager. Lucius raised his eyebrows slightly at the name, and she wondered what had surprised him.
"Griphook is the Potter account manager?" Her husband asked, his back straight with veiled interest.
"Yes." The Goblin answered curtly, before turning back to Harry to explain the procedure. "As the Potter account manager, it is Griphook who has access to the Potter runic seal that can be used to test for blood and named relation. Once verified, access rights can be determined. In lieu of direct family, am I to trust that those with you have obtained informational access rights through the appropriate channels?" Harry blinked in confusion at the question, and Lucius stepped in.
"And what appropriate channels would those be? I can assure you that Harriet here will verify her desire to have us here with her." Her husband placed a hand on Harry's shoulder as he spoke, and Narcissa saw her tense and felt the air shift a little as he did so, as well as when he said the name Harriet. Narcissa honestly hadn't thought that obtaining Harry's permission was anything they needed to consider, and she felt like kicking herself now as she watched the child try to grapple with exactly what she was being asked to do. The calming draught had clearly completely worn off by this point, and she hoped that the stress and anticipation of the moment wouldn't take its toll.
"Regardless," the goblin continued, "without formalised rights no information outside of freely request-able access can be given, and all trips inside vaults must be undertaken alone." Narcissa could tell from the tension in Lucius' jaw that he was grinding his teeth, and she thought he might argue before the wall glowed and dissolved away again and Griphook, presumably, entered.
This time the Goblin's eyes went immediately to Harry, and he showed none of the surprise that Gornuk had at meeting the Girl Who Lived, in the presence of the Malfoys no less. The slightly shorter and sturdier goblin promptly proceeded to the table they surrounded and looked down at the parchment that so far only had the name 'Harriet Ankaa Potter' and the date 'July 31st, Midnight bar a minute' inscribed in heavy italics.
The goblin held out the dark wooded, gold inlayed seal to Harry, offering for her to inspect it, before curtly instructing her to hold out her hand, palm upwards. A moment later a matching dagger was produced, and Lucius reached to take it and do the honours of assisting Harry provide the necessary three drops of blood. Instead of allowing it, however, Harry flinched back, and Narcissa remembered all too late that they hadn't told her about this part. Narcissa would have, were so much of her mind not still fixated on the matter of the name. Ankaa, dominant star of the Phoenix constellation. It was too strange to just be a coincidence.
"It's okay, Harry," she reassured quickly, "a little blood is just needed to test for relation, it's only three drops." Silently she prayed that the child would easily accept, that her traumatised mind wouldn't conflate any amount of pain with the abuse she had suffered.
"But…" she stammered, "I thought… I read that willingly given blood was dangerous. That it could be used in… potions and stuff…" she trailed off, and Narcissa wondered what sort of books the child could have possibly been reading, the blood mage section wasn't kept in the open, and was warded besides. Lucius was looking annoyed, but one look at Harry's slightly flushed and obviously panicked face was enough to dispel all thoughts but wanting to comfort the child from her mind. She took Harry's hand, the one that was still raised, palm up, as if she had forgotten it was there, and waited for Harry to look her in the eyes.
"That is very true, and it is wise of you to be cautious, but I assure you there is nothing to be afraid of here."
"I had to do it when I came here before!" Draco piped up, and Narcissa could feel Harry begin to relax. The goblins were both eyeing the interaction - and Harry specifically - speculatively, and when Harry turned to look at them in slight apology Griphook spoke up.
"Three drops is the minimum required for a ritual, and any blood offered loses it's magical viability once the procedure is finished. All documents are then stored and only accessed by goblins of suitable clearance. Nevertheless, those with concerns such as yours are offered to recite an oath which limits the usage of the blood to only what is being offered, so long as you are willing to wield the dagger yourself." Harry nodded quickly, and from Lucius' scowl she was willing to bet that the man had never received, nor thought to ask, for a similar procedure.
"Very well then. Take the knife and repeat after me. 'I, Harriet Ankaa Potter, offer my blood for the purposes of determining my place in the family of Potter, and for that purpose alone. So mote it be.' Slice your palm as you give the final proclamation, and allow three drops to fall onto the gold of the seal. Once that is finished you can wrap it in the seal cloth to heal the wound." The Goblin's voice was still terse, but not outrightly hostile, and Narcissa thought they were probably pleased at Harry's slight paranoia. If it was some sort of test, she had undoubtedly passed.
Harry took the knife off Lucius then, and did as the goblin said, only stumbling slightly as she belatedly forced herself to say 'Harriet' instead of 'Harry'. The blood fell, into the crevices in the gold of the seal, and as soon as the last drop touched the metal Griphook turned it over and pressed it onto the parchment bearing her name. A slight hissing sound could be heard, and then the seal was removed to reveal a blood red runic crest that Narcissa wished she had the time to decipher
The mark dimmed slightly as it sunk into the paper, and below it black inked words began to reveal themselves.
"Harriet Ankaa Potter, first born daughter of:
James Fleamont Potter - Lord and Head of the Noble House Potter by blood, by magic and by name (Deceased)
Lily Marie Potter née Evans - Lady of the Noble House of Potter by magic and by name (Deceased)
Accepted daughter and Heir to the Noble House of Potter by blood and by name.
Lordship eligible to be received upon reaching maturity, or upon acceptance by magic.
With this title comes:
The right and duty to bear the name Potter, and to serve in its interests
1 (one) Wizengamot seat, to be received upon taking title of Lord*
Vault 231* - details of total funds, properties and other assets recorded in inventory
1 (one) trust vault, vault number 687, established for Harriet Potter's sole usage. Total 4,000 Galleons. Limit of 200 Galleons to be withdrawn per year until reaching majority.
*In the event of no standing Lord, seat Potter is to become dormant. No proxy is to be appointed, except by successful passing of magical judgement.
*House Potter is granted the right to hold Vaults without declaration. Only official title holders of House Potter may enquire or gain access, and is to be treated a matter of family confidentiality."
Narcissa finished reading, and waited for a long moment for her mind to catch up with what she had just read. It was what they had come for, they had known what to expect, but that didn't mean there weren't many interesting things to come out of it.
For one, it mattered that Lily Potter had been recognised as a member of the Potter family by magic. She was, absolutely and unavoidably, a muggleborn, and for anyone of her blood to not only have the gumption to submit herself for magical testing, but to also pass, was not something Narcissa had ever heard of happening before. True, she hardly ran in the sort of circles where muggle borns cropped up, but that was just it. Next to no pureblood family of the standing that meant magical acceptance actually had meaning would ever consider allowing a muggleborn to bear their name, and being accepted by magic was a huge step beyond that.
The sort of magical judgement a marriage agreement enacted was by no means as risky as the sort to claim a title, but that didn't mean it was without its problems. To take the test and fail would nullify any marriage agreements and remove the prospect of any future betrothal into the family. Passing did have tangible benefits, the strongest being an ability to experience and utilise the family magics in the same way as any borne member, but it wasn't like Lady Potter was being disowned from her own bloodline and in need of some new connection. She came from muggles and could never have known what she was truly missing.
Putting that aside, the next quandary was the wording around how Harry could claim her Lordship. Being of age was to be expected, but the secondary option of the acceptance of magic was not. The rule was familiar to Narcissa, of course it was, it was the wording that could be found in any Black document, and in the Malfoy's as well. Any suitably ancient family would have similar due to being established in a time where war and strife all too often necessitated under-age Lords, but as more and more families grew sick of their younger members' attempts at usurpation the caveat died out. By the time the Potters were established there would have been no active templates that offered that wording, meaning to be included it would have had to been specifically requested, which in turn meant whoever created those initial documents must have been intimately familiar with the procedures of the far more ancient families.
The final oddities came in the footnotes of the document. The matter of Lordship proxy's was sensible, annoyingly so if Lucius' tense jaw had anything to say about it (he hadn't said as much, but Narcissa got the sense that the man had been hoping that any success they might have in gaining guardianship over Harry could be used to increase his voting power in the Wizengamot), but again came from a much older time before wizards began being forced into smaller and smaller areas, meaning Lords no longer had an entire realm to control and instead had to compete in close quarters, eventually unifying around divisive leaders and political persuasions which they could sign over their seat to rather than have to maintain themselves.
Then there was the matter of the Potter's apparent right to hold vaults completely outside of the public - and therefore ministerial - eye. That wasn't just a matter of age, but a matter of significance. For the Goblins to agree to such a deal meant they must be getting some significant gain from it, and while undeniably successful the Potters were new money (relatively speaking) and as far as any of them knew, not at the level where they could garner that kind of favour. That or they were undergoing some kind of illegal business in need of hushing up, but the Potters were Light sided braggarts without even a hint of that sort of rumour surrounding them.
It was a mystery, and one that Narcissa knew her husband would spend many future days pondering over, trying to work out why an upstart name like the Potters could end up with so many of the indicators of a truly ancient house. Narcissa herself would have quite liked to have more opportunity to think it through, but they were here for Harry and it was she who mattered most right then.
"Does this all make sense, Harry?" She asked, lightly touching Harry's arm and ignoring the slight, involuntary flinch before the child melted into it.
"I think… well… I'm not really sure what the difference is between blood and name, or how being named by magic would work either actually."
"Ah, well Name, Blood and Magic are all forms of acceptance into a formalised family that offer differing strengths and uses. Name is largely the weakest, and is simply a procedural matter where a person is officially declared a member of the given family, and without any Blood or Magical claim can be undone, in most cases, almost as easily - at least from a banking perspective. Blood is the next strongest and is a matter of birth right. It is something you are born with and cannot be changed. Even in cases of disownment, it is a specific magical objection which is placed to override blood rather than any actual change to blood itself. Blood does carry it's own magic, and everyone with that blood is attuned to it, but it can't be actively used the way true magical acceptance can. Finally is magic, which is the strongest because it supersedes both of the others. Any of the forms of acceptance come with a degree of magic, but if a magical judgement is taken and passed, only a greater judgement can undo it. It allows for the widest access to, and control of, familial magic, and anyone with the support of magic automatically supersedes anyone in the family without."
"Oh," Harry blinked, working hard to process all of the new information she was receiving. "And… the allowance. Does that mean I can pay you back? For the clothes and things?" Narcissa really should have seen that coming, she had seen how difficult it was for the child to accept what she saw as charity, and had been told by Severus of the difficulty many children in her situation had taking any form of handout, but she had hoped they were beyond that. In the background she heard Lucius scoff at what was - though of course Harry didn't mean it like that - an insult to the wealth of the Malfoy family.
"No, child. Nothing you have been provided with was bought with any form of repayment in mind."
"Bu—"
"Manners, remember," She said kindly but firmly, recalling the conversation they had had over Harry's much needed replacement glasses. The child snapped her mouth closed with an audible click, chagrin and reluctance equally obvious on her face. With the questions apparently over Lucius retook control of the meeting.
"I trust you are suitably convinced that this is indeed Harriet Potter. With that done I want information about the will of James and Lily Potter, and what rights of access exist."
"The documents you speak of are sealed," Griphook replied with a sneer "Only those it directly pertains to, or those seeking guardianship of heir Potter, have any right to view." Beside her, Narcissa just about heard an intake of breath from Harry when the word guardian was mentioned, and she briefly considered asking to send the children out so this conversation could be had in private. Better to keep them close, though, what with Harry being who, and in condition, she currently was.
"And what implications would it have if we told you we were seeking guardianship?" Narcissa currently asked, and felt Harry's eyes burning a hole into her.
"We would ask at what point you filed your statement of interest with the Bank and the Ministry."
"And at what point would that be necessary?"
"All banking documents must be filed before claims can be considered."
"And ministry documents?" Lucius interrupted, ready as always to catch and exploit any ambiguous wording.
"Are subsidiary to Gringott's own forms in the eyes of the bank. All documents must be filled out, but are only required to be submitted by the next Wizengamot session." Lucius' eyes lit with a satisfied gleam, and the two adults shared a glance. The Wizengamot sat during the final week of each month, and they were well into July by now, but thanks to ex-Minister Nobby Leach's excessive devotion as a father and desire to spend more time with his children on school holidays the month of July was reclassified as a period of 'rest and reconsideration', thus no session was held. That gave them until the end of August for any guardianship claim to go public, if they decided to make one. The question was, even with the extended time would it be possible to assemble a reasonable case by then? The last thing they wanted was to fire the curse too soon and end up soundly defeated by Dumbledore or any of his ilk. Narcissa would flee the country with her children before she allowed Harry to be taken by the man who had allowed her to come to so much harm, but that was hardly an ideal situation.
It was a gamble, and one they had to make blind as it was clear that the goblins were not about to give up the contents of the will before those documents were signed, and the creatures would be too vindictive to consider revoking it afterwards, even with a substantial bribe. They would take far too much pleasure in the ensuing calamity for that. But… what else could they do?
Narcissa looked to her husband again, and apparently he had come to the same conclusion. The end of August was as much time as they could reasonably expect Dumbledore to remain dormant, and at least this would give them more information to work with.
"Produce the documents. I will sign while Harriet views her vault." Lucius ordered, and the goblins gave matching sharp grins. Harry stood still and pale, clutching onto Draco's hand as he stood protectively beside her. Narcissa didn't think them asking for guardianship would come as a surprise, but she supposed it hadn't been explicitly stated before. Reaching out she took Harry's other hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"In that case I will escort heir Potter to her vault, unless there is any other business to be had?" Narcissa wanted to try again to persuade the goblins that Harry shouldn't be forced to go through her family's vault alone, but it would have been a futile gesture. There was still something else, though, something nagging at her mind. It would have been so easy to forget about it, to ignore it's significance, except Narcissa knew not to suppress her instincts. It was impossible to think, there was no reason or explanation for it, but asking had been inevitable from the moment she had learned Harry's full name.
"Yes. You are the Black family accountant as well as the Malfoy's." She told Gornuk. "I want you to check if Harry has any relation to us as well." All eyes were on her again, and she could feel her family's incredulity. She had said it, though, and there would be no backing down.
The familiar seal ring of the Blacks was produced quickly as well, and though her forehead was furrowed into a frown Harry complied with slicing her hand again willingly enough, repeating the words the goblins had taught her as she did so.
She wasn't expecting anything, not really, bar a mention of Dorea Black if magic deemed the relation strong enough, but that didn't stop her heart from quickening a little as they all leaned in to watch the space of parchment below where the Potter information was begin to resolve itself into words.
"Harriet Ankaa Potter, Goddaughter of:
Sirius Orion Black III - Lord and Head of the Ancient and Noble House Black by blood and by magic
Accepted daughter and Heir to the Noble House of Black by name and by magic, blood activated.
Lordship to be received upon reaching maturity, or upon acceptance by magic.
With this title comes:
The right and duty to bear the name Black, and to serve in its interests
1 (one) Wizengamot seat, to be received upon taking title of Lord*
Vault 711* - details of total funds, properties and other assets recorded in inventory
1 (one) trust vault, vault number 687, established for Harriet Potter's sole usage. Total 4,000 Galleons. Limit of 200 Galleons to be withdrawn per year until reaching majority.
*In the event of no standing Lord, seat Black is to become dormant. No proxy is to be appointed, except by successful passing of blood judgement.
*House Black is granted the right to hold Vaults without declaration. Only official title holders of House Black may enquire or gain access"
The air was eerily still, and Narcissa could feel her heartbeat thrum and her mind buzz with incredulity. It didn't make sense, none at all, and yet here it was. Harriet Potter, the Girl Who Lived, symbol for the Light, abused and abandoned child who had fallen into their laps, little girl who Narcissa wanted more than anything to protect, was official heir to the House of Black both by name and by magic. Sirius, her foolish and headstrong cousin currently imprisoned for directly aiding in the assassination of Lily and James Potter, and the attempted assassination of the very child before her, had named his Goddaughter heir to his title and performed the ceremony to back it up. And James had allowed him, presumably, even despite knowing that the Black ritual to activate trace family blood ran the supposed risk of switching magical inclination towards the Dark. Was it some idiotic scheme of Sirius' to entrench the family he had rebelled from in the realm of the Light? Could it be some attempt at protection for the targeted child? One that Sirius reneged on when he betrayed the family that had welcomed him in after he turned his back on their own (Not that Narcissa could really bring herself to believe that. In her opinion the whole affair had been some attempt at double cross that had gone tragically wrong, leaving Sirius to pay for some deadly mistake rather than the Death Eater activity he was convicted for).
Whatever it was, it changed everything. And not just for Harry either. Draco had dropped the other child's hand and was staring stonily at the paper on the table. Narcissa had been careful not to promise Draco anything explicit, but the expectation had naturally been that the seat had no explicit heir and he would take his place when he was of age. None of them had considered anything like this.
She looked over to Lucius next, whose blank, concentrating face hid nothing from Narcissa. The man was conflicted, just like she was. He of course wanted what was best for his son, but there was no denying this could drastically help their case when it came to seeking guardianship over Harry. Narcissa, too, felt some deep seated connection to the child bloom even more. She had been fascinated by Harry right from the start, had quickly become more invested than she ever expected to be. Was it all coincidence, or had some part of her known? Had the Black Blood and Magic that ran through her on some level recognised Harry as family?
She was still holding Harry's hand, she realised, and squeezed it again. Harry's head swung around to face her and she looked up imploringly, her face flushed with confusion.
"Wh— how? Who's Sirius Black, why would… how did you know?"
"I didn't know. I merely thought… your middle name is that of a star. That is a Black family tradition" and one Harry was undoubtedly untrained in. Narcissa would have to add astronomy lessons to their schedule, and countless more Black-specific tutorials besides. "As for Sirius Black, he was…" what could she tell her? That he was a convicted murderer widely accepted as facilitating her parent's deaths? That would be too much for Harry, already she could feel the charge in the air prickle at her skin. "… a friend of your parents. And your Godfather apparently. He had the right to name anyone he chose as heir. It seems he chose you."
"Oh." Harry finally muttered, at a loss for any more words. Narcissa could sympathise. Silence fell again, this time eventually broken by one of the Goblins, she could hardly bring herself to care which.
"You will presumably wish to visit both family vaults. Which will be first?"
"Take them to the Blacks," Lucius replied in what, to the untrained ear, might pass as absentmindedly. "I want to see the will. Narcissa, you can join me while Harriet visits the Potters." Narcissa didn't much like being ordered, but wasn't quite ready to look at the wills yet anyway and thought being able to take Harry to the Black Vaults would do them all a world of good in making the situation seem a little more real.
Still holding onto Harry, she extended her other hand to Draco who clutched it tightly, and they followed Gornuk out through the materialising door and down a stone corridor to where Narcissa knew the carts would be. As they sat down in the dangerous looking contraption Narcissa saw Harry dart a worried glance to Draco, but her son either didn't see it or else ignored the look. She could sympathise with the disappointment, but hoped fervently it wouldn't shift into anything darker or more bitter. Harry and Draco had become a team in her mind, and she wasn't sure she could bare seeing that fracture, not to mention what might become of Harry's magic if that did occur.
The cart ride itself was as terror-inducing as ever, and she clutched onto both children tightly. They were far below ground by the time the contraption finally stopped, and while neither of the children seemed even slightly sick she found herself having to hold back queasiness of much the same type as the few times she had attempted flying on a broom.
It had been years since she had entered the main Black vault, the last time being to assist her mother and the then Lord Black, Alphard, select which treasures were to be gifted to Bellatrix to honour her marriage. She wondered, for a moment, where the ruby, jet and emerald adorned dagger she had picked out was now, perhaps in the vault Thuban Lestrange so prized or perhaps in holding in the Ministry while her sister carried out her sentence in Azkaban. She had never been restricted from re-entering, but once it was clear Draco wasn't the named heir she hadn't expected to need to until her son was taller than her and ready to claim his legacy. It was strange to step in again so soon, with her Dragon still small enough she could hold his hand protectively in hers.
The goblin ran a long, nailed finger down the heavy metal door, and the intricate mechanisms on the outside came alive. Finally the door swung open and Narcissa stepped forwards, Draco in toe. Only Harry stayed back, her hand still in Narcissa's but seemingly frozen. She looked down at the terrified face and wondered whether it was fantasy on her part that she was beginning to see the features of a Black in Harry's face. The hair colour matched Harry's father as well, of course, but the Potter Blood Trait for hair ruled texture, not colour, and the pitch darkness of it was synonymous of the Black name, and carried in next to all of them, Narcissa herself being one of the few exceptions. The rest of her features still carried to much of childhood about them to be easily defined, but there was something of Bellatrix in the cheekbones, a little of Regulus in the jaw, even something of herself in the subtle arch of the eyebrows. It was too subtle for her to have noticed before, and subtle enough still that it could all be wishful thinking, but already things felt like they were settling into place.
Looking back at her son she had to close her eyes for a moment to stop herself taking note of the fact that, despite far more obvious blood, Draco looked less like a Black than Harry did. His eyes had the undiminishable Black sheen, but he was his father's son through and through. He did look like her quite a bit, but it was always Narcissa's greatest failing that she had never looked as much like a Black as she should, and while it was far better her son look like the family he would once Head than the one he no longer would, noticing it now felt a little like loss. His sullenness, though, was the signature Black pout and that was almost enough to make her smile.
"Come on Harry, there's nothing to worry about in there." Harry looked up at her again, green eyes swarming with emotion. It was good she was taking this all seriously, but Narcissa would have liked to see a little more excitement. With a gulp Harry nodded, seemingly more to herself than anyone else, and took a step forwards. Together they entered the vault and with a strict command the goblin closed the door behind them and left them to it.
The vault was more full than it had been the last time she had been here, no doubt a result of the automatic safety features on many of the heirlooms that must have activated when their main English summer Manor had been lost in the war. Deactivated paintings of ancestors were stacked against the left side wall, bracketed by stacks of furniture Narcissa could remember all too well from her childhood, down to the deep scratch down one of the dining table legs that had been caused by Bella tripping over Regulus as he was practicing his charms work. Sirius had taken the fall for that one, she remembered, as Regulus had been too young to legally own a wand at the time (not that any of the adults cared about that) so it had been his brother's he had borrowed. None of them had seen him for a day after that, and he had re-emerged with shadows under his eyes and full of righteous anger that had led him to challenge Bellatrix to a duel, one he soundly lost mere minutes later. That had been the summer before her cousin's first year at Hogwarts, she remembered, and after his sorting she had thought that that day might have been the one where he decided to disobey tradition and push for a different house.
"The ancestral wand box is over there." Draco grunted, pointing to the top of a wooden folding box that Narcissa knew contained the wands Harry would one day select from to draw the Black family magic from. Harry looked over at it, but stayed tightly pressed to Narcissa's side. Slowly, hesitantly, she shook her head.
"I'm not… I don't think I can be… it's not fair that you don't get to be…" she mumbled to Draco, and while Narcissa's heart broke at the child's lack of confidence and the curse of an upbringing that hadn't prepared her for her birthright, Draco only scowled harder.
"No it's not. My mum's actually a Black, and yours is just a mudblood, but that—" Narcissa's shock at hearing her son hurl such an insult at his friend was overridden by the sound of a chair - the very one with the scratch down the side - snapping. She spun around and kneeled down to Harry's level, looking at the pale, pinched face and willing the heavy, raspy breathing she could hear to stop.
If they were anywhere else, Narcissa wasn't sure Harry would be able to control her magic. As it was, the air in the room seemed to shift to accommodate the angry pulses, and rather than build up charge the air around them seemed to diffuse a little. Narcissa felt her hands - which were clutching Harry's arms - heat a little, and she felt the flow of family magic between the two of them move in time with with Harry's calming heartbeat. It was intoxicating, like the elixir they drank on Litha combined with what it felt like when she used to hug her sisters, and the connection between the two of them felt so tangible she was almost surprised it couldn't be seen by the naked eye.
Finally the effect died down and they both took a breath. Narcissa was right, it seemed, about family magic being what was needed to help Harry overcome her suffering, and it was with a sad sort of joy that Narcissa fully acknowledged that Harry being a Black meant she truly could be the required family, in every sense of the word.
She heard Draco shuffle his feet beside them, and turned to see his skin goose-pimpled by the energy in the air and face flushed with mortification. He looked beseechingly at Harry, who's expression seemed to be lined with weariness more than anything else.
"I'm… I'm sorry." He said. "I didn't mean that."
"Didn't mean what?" Harry finally answered in a whisper, her eyes trained on the floor.
"You're not… it's not like you don't deserve it. It's just…"
"What about my mum?"
"You're mum? I mean, she is…" Draco cut himself off, breathed and began again. "I'm sorry about that too. It said on the document that she was accepted by magic into the Potter family, didn't it? That means she was a real witch."
"She wouldn't have always had that. And she always was a witch." Harry disagreed, and Narcissa found herself torn. Before Harry she had never had to think very deeply about what it actually meant to dispute a muggleborn's right to claim magic, and after the abuses of those vile relatives of hers she had hardly be inclined to consider their case favourably. There were differences, she knew - it was undeniable when one considered the power and beauty of family magic and studied how it grew and blossomed over generations - but it was clear that Harry loved her mother and that was hard to dismiss. Lily Potter had given her life for the child that Narcissa had now given herself the honour of caring for, and it was difficult to do anything but admire the woman for what she had achieved.
"I… yeah, and I didn't mean it like that. I just… it was always going to be mine. Everyone always said it would be. I was going to make the Blacks great again."
"I think…" Harry whispered horsely "I think you still should. You're right. It's your mum, and I can't just take it from you." Narcissa couldn't believe the words as they were spoken, couldn't imagine Harry feeling the family magic they had just felt and still being able to contemplate turning it down. Draco, merely by being in the room it had happened to him, seemed equally incredulous.
"You can't just do that. It's done. Sirius Black decided, and you got magically accepted."
"But… he got to decide who replaced him, so I can do that too, can't I? I can say you?" Draco opened his mouth to talk, but the conversation was veering off course and Narcissa knew she had to interrupt. Still kneeling, she took one shoulder of each of them and turned them to face her.
"Both of you, I know this is a shock, but things like that don't need discussing. Draco, I know we thought you might be the Head one day, but that was never for certain and this doesn't make you any less of a Black. You have the blood of two great and powerful families running through your veins, and I have every faith that you will one day have the power to weird the magic of them both. Harry, the same is true for you. Your parents might not have been Blacks, but you are one of us, just as much as you are a Potter. You have been part of our family since the day you agreed to stay, but this means the rest of the world will see that too. This means that if anyone tries to say that you should grow up somewhere else, we can tell them this is why you shouldn't." That was a bit of an overstatement, there were countless more considerations and complications than that, but it was grounded in truth and felt important to say. She was tell she was getting through to the children, her children, but it was with surprise that she saw Draco's eyes widen in horror towards the end.
"Wait, you mean people are going to try and take her?" Narcissa cursed in her head, she had forgotten just how much of the precariousness of their current situation was being kept from the children. Harry was looking equally panicked now, all be it masked by the steady stoicism of someone who had trained themselves to never get their hopes up.
"We won't let them, I promise. You're not going anywhere, Harry, you're one of us."
"But…" Harry answered, pained, "I'm not really. Not like Draco. I just… just because some man I don't know said I was, that doesn't mean…"
"What Sirius Black said or did changer nothing. None of this could have happened and you would still be one of us, but anyway, you felt the magic just a moment ago, didn't you?" Harry nodded hesitantly. "That was family magic. Black family magic, and it felt pretty real didn't it?" Harry nodded again, firmly though Narcissa could tell Harry was still denying the inevitable conclusion that led to. "You might be called a Potter, but you are a Black as well. And Draco, you felt it too didn't you?" Draco nodded. "You might be called a Malfoy, but you are a Black as well."
"And…" Draco asked with dawning clarity on his face, "and that means other people can't take Harry away? They might have tried before, but her being heir means she has to stay with us."
"It means that no one can deny that we are family now."
"Okay." Draco seemed to have come to a decision, and he turned to face Harry. "I'm happy you're Heir Black, then. Anyone who thinks they can take you away is stupid, and you'll be good at it, when you are." Her son smiled then, and it was the smile of an adult, one who understood that personal losses could sometimes equate to overall gains. Narcissa felt herself smiling as well, the knot of disappointment at her son's loss loosening into fierce pride for Draco, and for Harry who she knew without a doubt was more than worthy of the Black title.
Her children held each other's gazes for a long moment, then, in the way of so many pairs who know each other well enough that words are no longer always necessary, the matter was settled and accepted. Harry looked easier in her skin already, and Narcissa was beginning to see how the flashes of maturity in her son would one day morph him into a truly admirable adult. If these children were her only legacy, she would have done well.
"You really should come and see the wand box, then," Draco easily continued from where he left off, his tone completely shifted even if the subject wasn't "though mum will probably want to save it and give it to you on your birthday. That's only a few weeks away now anyway. And after that we should go and see the stacks of gold, it's in this extra room back there and it's in these huge piles! I bet we could buy the whole of Diagon Alley with it, if we wanted to. And you'll probably like the area back there with all the books. It's not all the one's the Black's own, I don't think, but I bet there'd be some things you'd like." Draco chatted the way a child might while showing off their toys, and Harry looked at him with a complicated sort of adoration as she followed him around the room.
Draco had been right to suppose that the ancestral wand box was to be saved for Harry's ninth birthday, as was tradition, and Narcissa had made sure not to leave Harry in the room with the Galleons long enough for her to get any more ideas about paying them back for anything (not that she would be able to remove any of the money from this particular vault until she came of age). Most of the books in here were either also in the Malfoy Library or else dealt with subjects that should be kept as far away from children as humanly possible, but the family Grimoire was set aside so it could be easily rediscovered once Harry was old and magically-trained enough to utilise it, and she did manage to find the very astronomy book Narcissa herself had learnt from as well as the otherwise unpublished memoir of one Belvina Black, the hidden talent behind Herbert Burke's success. She then left the children to look through the portraits while she went over the the boxes of gems and jewellery. She doubted Harry would like to wear anything too delicate of showy - she was definitely not the sort of girl who would appreciate a pearl necklace, but being surrounded by the Black family magic that this room was saturated with had calmed her obscurus and perhaps some small heirloom to carry with her would aid in continuing that effect.
Amongst the jewellery were countless knives and other small weapons, all of which she easily dismissed as idiocy to give to a child, and many necklaces and other objects she could tell from the warning coldness of the air around her fingers were undoubtedly cursed to target anyone not of the Black Blood. Harry would be safe from those (both due to the magical approval and the fact that Sirius had apparently retained enough knowledge of the Black Magic after leaving to perform the ritual that would ensure any trace amounts of Black Blood in Harry's veins were activated) but cursed objects would also be a bad choice. Finally she found a new box that she knew instantly would contain what she was looking for.
It was a box she had hated for years with the burning passion that came from jealousy and longing. It was carved from wood, but rather than a natural sort had been charmed and potioned to grow the deepest shade of black. Inlayed into the top, only visible from certain angles of light, was the moving map of the stars that the Blacks claimed as their own.
She remembered each of her sisters coming home with the simple yet elegant metal charms of the constellations that bore their name sake, the point representing the Bellatrix star inlayed with a brightly shining diamond while each star on Andromeda's constellation shone with a slightly less blinding, but no less impressive, jewell. Had her father not panicked at the sight of her blonde har and rejected her as of his blood she would have had the name of a star, just like her sisters. Instead her mother had resorted to mythology and she had been forever cut off from that aspect of the family legacy.
That slight removal and lack of belonging had bothered her more than she would ever like to admit. It had been something her siblings and cousins would tease her about, the way siblings and cousins would tease about anything they knew hurt and they could only get away with because of the ties of blood. Lucius had been the first person to have guessed that the whole ordeal affected her more than she let on, and she had known she loved him the day he promised he would one day buy a star and name it after her.
But this wasn't about her, she reminded herself, this was about Harry, who bore the middle name Ankaa and as such would have a charm set aside for her in here. She opened the box and let it flatten itself out into a map of the sky, easily spotting the black spots where Bellatrix, Andromeda, Sirius and Draco would otherwise be. Usually there were more gone, and considering two of those spaces belonged to disowned members of the family the contrast was even more stark, but the Black family had been fractured and was warn down by war and was now bearing the costs.
She found the Phoenix constellation with the flame red ruby signifying Ankaa, and carefully pulled it free of its protective clasp. It hummed gently with the magic of countless lines of Blacks, and Narcissa contemplated giving it to Harry then and there, but held herself back. There was more that could be done with it to make it stronger, more loaded with protective, calming magic. Better to make it perfect than overload an already full day now.
Looking around the strange room that felt so familiar and so alien all at once, she saw nothing more that needed to be looked at then and there, the rest could wait for future visits. After all, Harry was already looking overwhelmed and exhausted (for all that was tempered with happiness) and they still had both the will and the Potter vault to go.
Gornuk looked no more pleased when they left as when they entered, and gruffly directed them to the cart which would take them to the Potter vault. The ride was no less pleasant, and all too soon they were outside vault 231.
It didn't feel right letting Harry into the Potter vault on her own, and worse still joining Lucius rather than waiting outside for her while she sifted through what was left of her family. Harry herself looked a little hesitant, but the goblin was having none of it.
"With no approved guardian you must enter on your own, heir Potter. It is in our files that there is a letter intended for you that you will find upon entering the vault. Anything you wish to remove will have to be approved by your account manager who will retrieve you. Would one hour suffice?"
"Yes," she gulped, and the mention of a letter seemed to be enough to turn all of Harry's fear to desperation. She couldn't seem to keep her eyes away from the door, and her face was a picture of the one she had seen when the Potters had first be mentioned. Narcissa knew she had to let her go, but she needed to make some things clear first.
"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, we can wait until I'm able to go in with you as well if that will make this easier. If you do want to go in you can stay for as long or as little time as you like, and we'll be close by when you're done."
"I want to go," she replied quietly but firmly, and Narcissa let her, even as some part of her was screaming that it was a mistake, that the child wouldn't be able to handle it or, worse, it would give her a taste of something none of them would ever be able to replicate. Who knew what was in that letter, except that it was almost undoubtedly written by her parents. Maybe Lucius was right, maybe it was better not to encourage her relationship to the Potters when it could only cause more pain, more loss, potentially for all of them.
The vault door swung shut behind Harry and Narcissa pulled herself together. She looked down at her son, who was still looking mournfully at the door, and gave his shoulder a squeeze.
"Time to go, Dragon." Draco looked up, nodded, but didn't take a step.
"He'll—she'll be alright, right?" Narcissa took a breath, making sure her face contained nothing of her anxiety.
"We'll be right here when she's done." And with that they returned to the carts.
She didn't know how bad the contents of the will might be, so she used the promise of extra dessert to entice Draco into reading a book in the corridor instead.
Entering the room, she immediately focussed in on Lucius, trying to gauge his reaction to the document laid out on the table in front of him. His back was straight, his jaw stiff, eyes intense with focus. It was the pose of a man who lived and died for playing the game of politics and society, but gave nothing away as to whether his pursuits were going in his favour. Were things a cut and dry, easy victory, there would be a satisfied smirk playing at his lips, but without it there was very little to go off.
"Well?" She asked, drawing out a seat for herself at the table. In answer, Lucius slid over the crisp parchment on which was written the last will and testament of the Potters.
"On this parchment is a record of the bequeaths and directives of:
Lord James Fleamont Potter
Lady Lily Marie Potter
Financial bequeaths: REDACTED, save for the fact that all remaining funds and assets are to be passed to our child and heir, Harriet Ankaa Potter
Other bequeaths: REDACTED, save for the fact that all remaining items and properties are to be passed to our child and heir, Harriet Ankaa Potter
Other relevant information: REDACTED
In the case of our demise before such a time as Harriet Ankaa Potter is of age, guardianship is to pass to her godfather, Lord Sirius Orion Black III.
Should Lord Sirius Orion Black III be incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, it is our preference that guardianship is to pass to Remus John Lupin.
Should that be deemed impossible, or should Remus John Lupin be incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, guardianship is to pass to Peter Pettigrew.
Should Peter Pettigrew be incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, guardianship is to pass to Alice and Frank Longbottom.
Should Alice and Frank Longbottom be incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, it is our request that the organisation REDACTED is placed in charge of rehoming Harriet Ankaa Potter, so long as they continue to comply with the best interests of the child and not the war.
If that is not so, then we ask for a test of magic to deem suitability.
Under no instances is anyone convicted, under investigation or suspected of Death Eater activities to be given guardianship, or any rights of access, to Harriet Ankaa Potter.
Such is the wishes of her parents."
Narcissa breathed out a long breath through her nose, and looked to her husband.
"A frankly astonishingly long list to have all ended up invalid choices." She marvelled, and it really was. She thought they had suffered loss in the war, and of course they had, but for an entire list of guardians to all end up dead, imprisoned or grievously injured it… well it was something else altogether.
"Hmm," Lucius agreed, "And given it is next to guaranteed that the organisation mentioned is the resistance movement headed by Dumbledore, it explains how he ended up with the decision making power that he did."
"And what of us? What are the possibilities?" From what Narcissa had gleaned from the document things weren't as bad as they could have been, the Potters hadn't given Dumbledore absolute rights, there were no valid contenders directly above them, and there was even a caveat to remove the illusive 'organisation's' control should it not serve in Harry's interests. There was even a clause allowing for a test of magic, which was something it would be the height of foolishness not to consider. The sticking point, however, was the line about the Death Eaters.
"The clause against suspected Death Eater activity is clearly purposefully vague. It is a case we could win, but I am not sure it is one we can avoid fighting altogether, nor could we guarantee victory with the way things stand. It would be up to the discretion of the Judge, and with so many loyal to Dumbledore…" Her husband trailed off, and Narcissa was glad she was sitting down, her legs felt weak. She had known there would be something like this, of course she had, but the mere thought of losing Harry was enough to terrify her. The child's ability to worm her way into her heart was truly astounding.
"What of being a Black?" She asked. Surely being the heir to their line would give anyone bearing the name more favourable odds.
"It would be enough to start a fight, not necessarily enough to end it. There is nothing specifying it bar precedent, and although that precedent is strong the Death Eater wording is explicit and therefore stronger. If we are to win, the meaning of the word 'suspected' will be the key - as will making sure any battle had is done on our terms with our people.
"Okay," Narcissa breathed, willing herself to calm and stay focused on the fact that they finally had some real information to go off. "But you think we can do it?"
"I… we have not come this far to then allow a loss, and only a fool would think to fight us." There was the smirk Narcissa had been waiting for, the smirk that said he really thought they could win, that Harry could be theirs. It would be a hard road, but they could and would walk it, after all the child deserved it.
Author Notes:
So… a month. Lots of you told me not to apologise after my last slight delay so I won't do that (much), but I really appreciate all of your patience. I promise this is not me getting tired of this story, but rather an insane combination of work, school, dying phones and preparing to move country, plus a bunch of other stuff.
I really wan't to keep the quality of the story as high as I can, and I needed a few more weeks for that to be true. Hopefully the same won't occur for the rest of the chapters, but the main promise I can make is that this volume of the work will be completely finished by the time I go to uni in mid/late August.
That means 2 chapters + an epilogue, though I reserve the right to add an extra chapter on should I decide it's necessary (I'm torn over which book to put it in).
Okay boring excuses over. Thanks for all your support and I hope this (very long) chapter is alright. I have plans for the Goblins but don't think I've quite found their voice yet so lots of their bits felt a little stilted. Also sorry if some of it just seemed like an info dump for the world elements I've created around inheritance types and such. The reason for that is that that is exactly what it is, but hopefully it will pay off in the long run.
Comments make me happy, 'see' you all soon!