AN: I've gotten into a bit of a bind with this fic. I know where I want it to go, but other plot bunnies for other fics have monopolized my attention lately.

October, 2003

When he received the letter requesting a meeting to consult on 'Iberian security measures', he certainly hadn't been expecting this.

The first clue should have been that the Iberian Ministry of Magic's representative was a man named Malcolm Davis. Harry hadn't met all that many Portuguese or Spanish wizards, but he was still sure very few of them were named Malcolm. The second clue should have been the man's accent – while Harry couldn't quite place it, it was definitely one originating in the British Isles. The chosen venue had been interesting, too – a private room in a lounge located in the shadows of Charlemagne's Citadel, easily accessible for international travelers but also completely within Andorran legal jurisdiction.

Still, all of those could be plausibly explained as the Iberians using a proxy who happened to be a Brit, and Wizarding Andorra was a convenient place to discuss things that could be less-than-legal in other states.

No, what made Harry suspect this wasn't a meeting requested by the Iberian Ministry was the target Davis was beating around the bush about. Lucius Malfoy was a highly unpleasant man (at least to those the man saw as his lessers), but to Harry's knowledge old Lucy hadn't been active in the Iberian peninsula – certainly, not active enough to make their Ministry want to target him. That made the timing of the meeting suspect too, given what Harry had just spent the preceding month investigating the Malfoys thanks to what he'd uncovered interrogating the Notts.

"Lucius Malfoy is a cunt," Harry agreed carefully from his armchair. "But if that was enough to warrant assasination, the world would be filled with a lot of dead cunts."

Malcolm Davis was a well-built wizard in high-quality but 'functional' dress robes. He had the stance of a capable fighter, but one that wasn't ready to spring into a fight. Nevertheless, Harry made sure to position his legs to ensure that his field of movement wouldn't be restricted by his own robes. Combat-charmed robes weren't as protective as dragonhide armor (and counterintuitively, more uncomfortable), but you couldn't wear the latter to a meeting without giving unnecessary insult.

Davis snorted from across the mahogany table. "Mr. Potter, I didn't say anything about assassination-"

"Come off it," Harry interrupted, eager to get to the meat of the meeting. Euphemisms about how Malfoy was stirring up trouble and how much an issue it was becoming could only have a few logical conclusions. "We've already sworn secrecy oaths, and I'm sure you know Andorra has no laws against planning a killing. I mean, you even have the setting down to a tee. Love the Bond villain chic, by the way. I approve."

The man opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off again.

"And you should really come out from under that invisibility cloak," he chided to a seemingly empty corner of the room on Davis' right. "If you're an intruder, eavesdropping is rude. If you're here to pull the strings on your sockpuppet, doing so in plain sight is also rude."

Davis couldn't quite suppress the look of shock and annoyance from his face, but Harry was saved from having to interrupt him a third time by the hidden observer uncloaking herself.

"I see my daughter was correct in her assessment of your capabilities," the woman said as she conjured an identical armchair beside Harry's. Upon closer inspection, Harry immediately noticed that the woman looked like an older, more severe version of Daphne, except dark-haired instead of blonde.

Ah. Lucius as a target makes more sense now, Harry realized.

"Oh my, she's talking to her parents about me already?" Harry asked with a grin, expecting that this would eventually get back to Daphne. "Good things only, I hope."

"You may continue to hope," the woman Harry had identified as Aster Greengrass sniffed. "But we are here to talk about Lucius Malfoy, not whatever passes for courting among today's youth."

"And Lucius Malfoy isn't just a cunt, as you've eloquently labelled him," Malcolm Davis interjected himself into the conversation once more. "He's still the head of House Malfoy, even in his self-imposed exile. The Malfoy name and gold don't hold as much weight as they once did, but it's enough to make him one of the champions of the Continent's pureblood supremacist camp."

"I'm going to guess that neither of you are here on behalf of the Iberian ministry," Harry decided, focusing on Aster Greengrass. "This is about what Daphne learned back in September."

"Oh, the letter and seal are authentic. If you take it to Madrid they will confirm it is an official request from their Ministry," she said. "But you are right in assuming that we're here because of what my daughter has told me."

"I understand why I'm not a fan of Lucy," Harry said, making a note to investigate exactly how the Greengrasses had managed to get a foreign government to act as their post service. He suspected it was a show of power, though – either they had the influence and connections to have actually done so, or the gold and connections to forge a highly convincing fake. "But why does one of the Sacred Twenty Eight, a Noble and Most Ancient House at that, want to off him? Isn't your daughter marrying his son?"

"My family has never been associated with blood purist ideals. But I am not one for ideological moralizing, and I suspect you appreciate frankness," Lady Aster said. "Ultimately, it is because I can see where the political winds are blowing. Lucius Malfoy will taint my house by dint of association, and I cannot abide by that."

Harry could tell she wasn't quite done. And she was right about one thing – Harry did appreciate frankness. He could buy that the Greengrasses weren't pureblood supremacists, since the Sacred Twenty Eight also included Ron and Neville's families.

Unlike the Weasleys and Longbottoms, though, House Greengrass was heavily associated with wizarding supremacy. Harry had learned that from Neville during their discussion about the Nott incident. And while wizarding supremacy wasn't a 'Light' ideology in any way – its most recent champion had been Grindelwald, after all – it wasn't anathema to Harry in the same way that pureblood supremacy was.

"Upon your twenty-fifth, you'll ascend to the mantle of Lord Black and that House's Wizengamot seat. House Potter was ennobled in 1981, so you'll also be in the unique position of heading two noble houses. Then there's your two Orders of Merlin, First Class," Lady Aster continued with an idle wave of her hand. "That's 14 Wizengamot votes, which will make you the single most powerful Wizengamot member by far in just a few years. I somehow doubt you'll fail to leverage your renown and allies, either."

"Thank you for the lesson in Wizarding Britain's political system, Lady Greengrass," Harry said, going for light sarcasm rather than caustic impudence. "But that still doesn't explain you wanting to off Lucius."

"Patience, Mr. Potter. Lucius is a problem because he remains Lord Malfoy, and committed to championing the pureblood cause even from afar," Lady Aster said. "His business dealings effectively subsidize the Wizengamot fees of the Noble Houses that support the blood purist cause. I'm confident that his son won't be continuing the same arrangement if he was Lord Malfoy."

"I'm sure the fact that your daughter would be able to influence how Draco votes is also just a coincidence, then?" Harry prodded. That Draco would be an improvement over Lucius was true, but 'improvement over Lucius Malfoy as a human being' was also a hilariously low bar to clear. It was like saying the clap was better than AIDS – one was less bad than the other, but you still wouldn't want to catch it.

"Don't be foolish," Davis grunted. "Of course that's part of the calculus. But that's a side benefit arising from fixing the main problem – which is that having a son of Malfoy and a daughter of Greengrass united in matrimony gives the impression of political allegiance, and no amount of saying it isn't so will convince the powers that be otherwise."

"Believe me, Mr. Potter – I would have preferred if Astoria had chosen a muggleborn boy rather than Draco Malfoy. You do not jump onto a sinking ship, after all," Lady Aster said firmly. "Matrimonial ties with them are a millstone on the neck of my House's ambitions. There is no universe where five Wizengamot votes and any amount of tainted gold would make that worth it."

"You could just call off the wedding," Harry suggested. Does this count as protecting a Death Eater? Harry wondered while he was at it. "That would neatly solve your issue of being tied to the Malfoys."

"The optimal path would indeed be to end Astoria's engagement, but I have raised two headstrong daughters," Lady Aster agreed readily. "But for all of his family's faults and personality defects, Draco does love Astoria and the reverse is true. Forbidding her from tying the knot is begging for a reenactment of what Andromeda Black did."

"Offing Draco isn't an option either, then?" Harry asked.

"I would rather not drive one of the few Most Ancient Houses in the British Isles to extinction. Not to mention, Lucius can still procreate," Lady Aster said placidly. "And hurting Draco hurts Astoria. I would prefer not to hurt my daughter. I suppose he'll also be family soon enough, and you should not hurt family."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't protection by dint of family extend to Lucius?"

"Soon to be family," Lady Aster stressed the most important word. "Lucius would also drag the Greengrass name into the dirt with him."

"And you need me to kill Lucius for you?"

The matriarch laughed. It was…eerily similar to Daphne's, if Daphne was a colder person.

"No, Mr Potter. Not need – want. I already know where he is, and while you are superior to the average mercenary, I can send dozens of them until one works. In any case, the most important role you would fill is to trap Lucius in his residence. I understand you are experienced in such matters," she explained after stifling her laughter. "And if you refuse, then no harm done. I can hire a team of ward specialists instead. It just occurs to me that you already have reason to want Lucius Malfoy dead, and bringing you aboard reduces the number of people that will know of the plan."

"I wouldn't say I want to kill Lucius Malfoy," Harry argued. The lie sounded weak, even to Harry. The man was an unrepentant Death Eater, had unleashed a thousand-year old basilisk on a school, and an all-around shite human being.

"Lucius Malfoy is the biggest pillar keeping the specter of blood purity alive in Britain. Diminished, but not dead. And the longer that state of affairs remains, the higher the odds that another of his ilk in the next generation will step up to take that mantle," Lady Aster noted. "Pile that above your personal reasons to hate the man, and I will believe that does not motivate you when leprechauns start giving real gold."

"Especially since the fault on Lucius remaining at large as Lord Malfoy can be laid on your shoulders," Davis added. "After you bungled the postwar trials."

Harry forced himself to not scowl at the man. Directing any anger at him was pointless, in any case. For one, he spoke the truth. And two, Harry didn't doubt that the real origin of the words was with the man's master (or mistress, in this case).

Harry remembered being so proud at the time too, to have delivered an ultimatum in public that unless Lucius Malfoy was convicted, he wouldn't have considered the War to be over. It had burned up far too much of the hard-earned political capital he'd accrued by defeating Voldemort, since the postwar trials required at least a veneer of impartiality.

"Fine," Harry grunted. "How are we sending Lucy off into permanent retirement?"

A satisfied smile emerged on the Greengrass matriarch's face.

"Lucius is hiding out in Scandinavia – Dalsland, specifically," Davis said. "It's a Malfoy property, but one owned personally by Lucius and not by the House…"

Harry had left after a few hours of planning and making arrangements to meet up with Davis again later in the week.

Silence filled the private room, only interrupted with swishes of Malcolm Davis' wand as he applied a series of security and privacy charms.

"My Lady, it occurs to me that if the issue behind Miss Astoria's marriage is the perception of allegiances, we could easily remedy that by arranging a match for Miss Daphne with Mister Potter," Malcolm said once the door closed and the room was once more secure. "It's not as if they dislike one another, and the heir's marriage always holds more weight than the spare's."

"Oh, Malcolm, we both know how Potter and eldest will react to any proposed arranged match for them, even if they are infatuated with each other," Aster Greengrass replied as she leaned back into her armchair.

"No, better let that cauldron simmer to boiling point on its own."

AN:

Daphne's family is far from being squeaky clean. I'm...a bit miffed with the fandom's insistence on slapping 'grey & neutral' as if that was a sustainable political stance.

The Wizengamot vote classes are as follows:
- Any Noble House (irrespective of rank) gets 5 votes
- An Order of Merlin First Class recipient gets 2 votes
- An Order of Merlin Second Class gets 1 vote (Third Class is a prestige thing)
- Ministry officials also get allocated Wizengamot votes, usually to Department heads and important officeholders.

Wizarding Britain can be classed as an oligarchic system with elements of bureaucracy and meritocracy, topped with the veneer of democracy (the Minister is elected, but that's as far as the sop to democracy goes).

Noble Houses pay for the Ministry's budget – it's basically one of the pillars of Wizarding Britain's social contract (in exchange for them holding the lion's share of political power, income taxes are basically nonexistent, and so are corporate taxes).