Sirius wants to be a free man and Harry wants the same, so he contacts the best wizarding barrister that he can find. Unfortunately for Harry, the best law wizard in Britain is an ex-Death Eater who can read the signs of what's to come.

Chapter One - A Price to Be Paid

The sun was just setting and a Harry James Potter of Little Whinging, Surrey couldn't help but scowl at the simplicity of his idea.

Harry turned to Hedwig and the snowy owl perked up at the look in his eyes.

"Alright, girl. I'm going to need you to find a barrister that will help Sirius be a free man. I'll write a letter to them, you just have to deliver it to the best one that galleons can buy."

Hedwig hooted softly, careful as she perched on the desk he had. He thought for a moment, wondering what the best option would be…

Hello,

My name is Harry Potter and I am seeking legal aid and representation in a case. You see, the Ministry of Magic wrongfully imprisoned my godfather, Sirius Black and he is now on the run. He never had a trial and I know he is innocent.

I know it is shocking, but I would like to know how much it would cost to make sure that he could walk around a free man. He told me his wishes at the end of my Hogwarts school year that he would like to be a free man.

I would like to meet up and I hope you can look past what the Ministry has propagated and help me. I will pay any price.

Sincerely yours,

Harry James Potter

He just had to wait for the ink to dry. Harry was soon reading the letter over, anxious as he waited.

Harry knew that things would get better after Sirius was freed. If anyone were to ask him, anything was better than the Dursley family.

Hedwig returned with an official-looking letter in the early morning. She looked a bit ruffled, but none the worse for wear. Harry smiled and gave her some extra owl treats. He had already poured out some water.

Harry smiled as he opened the letter.

Dear Mister Potter,

I would like to meet you in person before proceeding. I, like many in our world, would like to know where it is you go to in the summer. I am not asking that you reveal your exact location to me, but I like to meet up with potential clients before taking on career-altering cases in a safe public setting. Send me a date, time, and location.

Awaiting Your Owl,

Cyrus Greengrass of Greengrass, Pummel, and Yaxley Law

Licensed Law Wizards of The United Kingdom, France, and Italy with licenses pending in the United States and Germany

Harry thought long and hard of where they could meet up in the neighborhood and realized with a sinking heart that there was no safe place for him in his neighborhood. His relatives would be horrid the whole time that Cyrus was here and the barrister, or Law Wizard as he called himself, would be sure to avoid working for Harry on his godfather's case.

It was bad enough that Dudley was taking on the role of a neighborhood terror and was likely to bring upon a hell for any wizard that came for Harry. Hedwig seemed to huff at his deflation.

"Where would I go?" Hedwig made a soft noise and Harry watched her for all of two seconds as he realized she wasn't looking at him. His eyes followed her line of sight to his open trunk, which was open with his cauldron at the very top. "Oh…"

Harry turned in his seat, back to his owl.

"The Leaky Cauldron…" Harry muttered the location. It was a public wizarding space and he had spent his last summer there safely. He was surprised at the genius of it all. He checked his galleon pouch and was surprised at how much he had in it. He had spent a good amount the year before.

Not thinking twice about it, Harry wrote out the note. It bothered him a bit that the wizard would likely expect that. Harry read his note again as soon as he had finished.

It seemed fine.

Harry looked out at the morning light, wondering how the Dursleys would react if he sent Hedwig out when the neighbors were getting ready to leave for work. He looked at Hedwig.

"I'll send it tonight with you. Don't want them to find out what I'm planning." Harry had no more chores since starting at Hogwarts. He would now have to find something to do until tonight when he could send the letter. Harry sighed, this would take time. Hope filled him. Spending the next summer with his godfather would well and truly be the best..

As Harry lay in his bed, he glanced at the window every so often. He was silent. After spending a day wasting his time, he was ready for whatever would come.

"Come on." Harry muttered to himself, breaking the silence as a silvery splotch appeared in the distance among the moonlit clouds. The moon was full and he wondered how his Defense professor from the year before was doing. The werewolf hadn't written to him once.

He didn't think further on it. Hedwig was here!

The tone was different, colder than before. Where before his writing had breathed politeness and a certain excitement, the current tone read as though Harry was a fly close enough to swat.

Mister Potter,

It is my belief you are an enemy firm seeking to make us look like fools. I will give you one chance to prove you are who you say you are. Come to my firm on the birthday of the Boy-Who-Lived. Should you not arrive, I will see that your owl is blacklisted from our firm.

Floo to the address "Bite of Justice". You have until the end of the workday.

Expecting you no sooner and no later than that day,

Cyrus Greengrass of Greengrass, Pummel, and Yaxley Law

Licensed Law Wizards of The United Kingdom, France, and Italy with licenses pending in the United States and Germany

Harry swallowed, silently grateful he had gotten that far. His birthday was in a few days. Tonight was the twenty-second of July. So he had until his birthday, the thirty-first, to convince his uncle to give him a ride to London and back. Having to ask his uncle for anything left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He sat up and stared at Hedwig for some sign and she stared back, looking to the full moon and back again. Should he owl his godfather or Remus and let him know what he was doing? Harry shook his head at the thought, his eyes gazing at the door frame where Uncle Vernon would pass by as he did at this time of night to head to the loo.

Sirius would likely panic and reenter the British community and Remus… well, Harry looked at the ceiling in thought. Harry stilled as his uncle stumbled past his room, not even sparing him a glance. He would have to time it if he didn't want his uncle to put him to work like the old days. Harry sighed.

It would be hard to wait, but to have things work out he would have to be careful. Harry would have to tap into the cunning that he had been pushing away for the past three years.

Harry planned, but everything he came up with was shunted to the side. It wasn't like he could all out ask. Uncle Vernon would likely take the day off of work for a family day, than go to work and get paid if Harry asked for another ride to London. He swallowed and realized he'd have to resort to the dirtiest thing he could think of.

"Uncle Vernon, my godfather wants to meet me in London." He couldn't meet the older man's eyes.

"When?"

"My birthday."

Uncle Vernon sighed, seeming put upon.

"Are the flying carpets broken, why doesn't he come pick you up?"

Harry bit his lip to stop the snarky comeback that almost exited his mouth. He would have to be careful here. He took a deep breath and focused on the stitching of the rug. It seemed his godfather was seeming more like a distant dream rather than a real life nightmare to them.

"I asked my godfather not to come, for your sake."

Harry looked up when Aunt Petunia entered the living room.

"Vernon, be a dear and take the boy to London. I don't want that freak sniffing around here!" Vernon stared at her with Harry. "I heard terrible things about him before he went to that prison! Imagine if he snaps and ends this one!"

Merlin, she hated him that much. Vernon cheered up and hummed.

"He'll have to make his way back on his own if he survives."

Harry nodded his head vigorously, biting his tongue to stop the choice words that wanted to come out.

Dudley entered the room after his mother. He was distracted by the TV for a full minute, "What's for lunch?"

It took Harry a moment to realize that the adults were looking at him. Oh, he had asked too soon. He didn't sigh, he didn't complain, instead he stood up and went to the kitchen.

'It's only one lunch, it's only one lunch…' the words repeated themselves in his head as Harry forced himself to go through the horribly familiar motions of the kitchen.

He had set the table before he knew it.

It wasn't one lunch and by the end of the first week, they had Harry so exhausted he couldn't quite focus on his essays. He doubted he'd do very well.

Two days after, true to his word, Uncle Vernon dropped him off at Charing Cross Road, where Harry made his way to the Leaky Cauldron with the letters he had exchanged with the wizard. Tom saw him and stopped him from grabbing some floo— "Floo powder isn't cheap—Harry Potter?!"

People were up and crowding him as Tom forced him into a seat.

"Please, Mister Potter, sign my book!"

Harry looked longingly at the fireplace as Tom placed a meal in front of him.

"On the house, Mister Potter! How are you doing today?"

"I have to—"

"Eat first! This is a new import from France, mooncalf veal!" Harry had no idea what a mooncalf was, but that it did smell rather appetizing. Harry took a bite and people whispered amongst themselves, pointing openly.

"Now, now…" Tom said to the crowd, "Let Mister Potter eat his food!"

The whispers died down but people still stared. Harry, feeling self conscious, pushed the plate away after a few more bites.

"I ate earlier, I have somewhere I have to be. It was good."

"Of course, Mister Potter! Thank you for your patronage!" Tom looked positively giddy as Harry took a pinch of floo powder and said his location in a clear voice.

Before he knew it, he was stumbling out of a fireplace.

"What are you doing here?" There was a pretty blond seated behind the desk, about his age. She was a bit taller and her name was—he did not know, but they shared the same classes. She wasn't in Gryffindor but—her hazel eyes narrowed at him and she sighed in annoyance. "I hope you're happy, Potter. I have to listen to my papa for the rest of the day."

Another little blond popped her head out of an office door. She cringed as the elder of the two began to stand. Okay, she was taller than she should have been. She stepped out from behind the desk, her heels were high enough to add another foot!

"Have a seat, Mister Potter. I shall see to it that Mister Greengrass knows you're here." Her manner was different from before, playing the role of a polite secretary. The little blond came out as soon as Harry had taken his seat.

"She's scary."

Her high pitched voice grated his ears. He didn't make it a habit to talk to prepubescent girls, however. "Yeah."

"I'm Astoria, you missed my sorting last year. I know you," she said. Her voice was gentle, like a breeze despite how reedy it was. "My father put me in charge of dusting off the customers, would you stand for a moment?"

Harry nodded and did so, surprised when she snapped her fingers, summoning a house elf who edged around him and focused on the chair.

"My papa spent good money on those chairs, give me a second." She patted her robes down and pulled out what looked like a windup mouse toy.

She wound it up as the house elf popped away. He noted that the floors were still spotless despite the ash he had covered them with. With a faint ringing, the mouse left her gloved hand and moved over to Harry, where it proceeded to zoom over him again and again.

"Don't move please." The vacuum worked its way lower as Astoria circled him again and again. "Lift your arms and…" The vacuum circled his waist and went lower speeding over his legs.

"Done!"

"Astoria!" A man's voice called. It must have been Cyrus Greengrass who had come.

"Mister Yaxley!" Okay, so it wasn't their father. Her older sister was still missing so that should have been his first hint. He stared after the little girl as she ran up and hugged him. He was… tall. His robes were hooded and obscured his face. There was no warning as the older wizard reached into his robes and handed the girl a sweet. She skipped off after checking the wrapper.

Harry gulped as the man sat next to him.

"Harry Potter." Harry looked at him. "The Boy-Who-Lived and my great-grandson's potential big client." Harry looked away first. He didn't want to have this conversation.

"Adore the fame while you can, boy. Fame fades like everything else in this world. When I was younger—"

"Unspeakable Yaxley, state your business."

"I am visiting Peregrine, Cyrus." Harry looked around. Looking for the source of the voice turned out nothing.

"Stop harassing my clients with your oldness and get on with yourself." The Unspeakable stood with a grunt and left, wandering off to the right. He looked around and saw three archways within view, one of which held a room filled with cabinets. The floors there were yellow, while the room he was in had darkly colored floors. The other two were obscured.

Maybe because of the fact people would floo in here.

The girl in heels reappeared from the archway which held the cabinets, a thick stack of parchment in her arms—"Let's go, Potter."

He stood and followed her as she walked through the left most archway.

"Do you need help, Greengrass?"

"No." Her legs wobbled as she continued walking through the long and winding hallway. There were no windows or doors and when they reached the end, Harry went to open the door for her. She kicked it open with ease before he had reached the handle.

"I got all the paperwork, I think."

"Did you file it in the order I specified?" Daphne groaned and looked at Harry. "This is where I leave you, Potter. Be—don't…"

"Out, Daphne."

"Whatever." She grumbled as she shut the door after herself, carrying her stuff out. Harry stood awkwardly at the door. There was a portrait of a beautiful blond witch above the lit fireplace and—oh Merlin!

"That's a portrait of my wife. I should have put her away before you came in here…" The law wizard chuckled, drawing Harry's eyes away from the sky-clad witch, sounding nervous. "Let's not worry about that right now, I think you should have a seat and we can discuss things."

Harry examined the wizard behind the cherry wood desk.

His hair auburn and neatly trimmed with some grey hairs on it, his eyes were hazel, and his face was covered with a thick bushy beard, reminding Harry of a viking. Harry took his seat in a way that would stop his eyes from wandering to his wife.

The witch's portrait made kissing noises and Harry refrained from looking.

"You are an honorable boy, Mister Potter." It was all the law wizard said.

"About the reason I'm here—"

"We'll get to that, we must wait for my daughter to come back with the silence clause. For now… tell me who I shall be working with?"

Harry's mind stalled. He swallowed his mouth having grown dry.

"What would you like to know?"

"I'm curious about a great many things, Mister Potter. You see, my daughters have told me things, there have been some things in the papers, but no one really knows you. Where do you spend summer vacation?"

"With my relatives on my mother's side." The man nodded, scribbling something on a stray bit of parchment. Harry spoke again, "They don't like me very much."

The scribbling stopped for a second. Harry grew nervous as the wizard scribbled some more.

"What I'm doing right now is a branch where Divination and Arithmancy have touched and intertwined called Numerology. I am getting something with three words… give me a second. Bed?"

The wizard looked at him and Harry remained silent. He sighed and lit a stick of incense with his wand. He placed the stick into a bowl which morphed into a dragon. Harry waited in silence as a bubbling started forth from his stomach. It worked its way up. The law wizard sighed and inhaled some smoke in his mouth from the dragon figurine that was facing him.

"Your turn, Mister Potter."

Against his better judgement, Harry inhaled as he had and—"My relatives used to keep me in the cupboard under the stairs."

The quill fell from the law wizard's grip.

"I see…" The wizard sighed and rubbed his eyes with the thumb and forefinger that had been writing. "I don't know why you were dropped onto muggles, Mister Potter. Anyone in the wizarding world would have been happy to have you."

Harry shrugged.

"I'll be honest, this sage is magical and legal in this situation. It makes lies impossible between two who inhale it." He eyed Harry as though he were a volatile potion, "I am not licensed for child cases, so we shall focus on the reason you're here. You wish to pursue legal action against the Ministry of Magic for a convicted man, correct?"

"That's the thing, sir. My godfather was never convicted." the door opened behind him. The wizard didn't appear to react. "He never had a trial."

"After my daughter puts the papers on the desk, we can begin signing agreements. Daphne, leave us once everything is organized." Harry looked at her and saw ire at the man. Her face became blank once her father cleared his throat. She put them in three piles. On top of the one to Harry's left, she placed a quill.

"This pile is confidentiality." She placed a quill on each of the last two. "These are your understanding we may not win and that you cannot sue us if we fail. This last one is an understanding that if you are lying about your identity Gringotts will sue you with us representing them in wizarding court, along with an understanding that no one from this firm may represent you after you counter sue."

She paused and placed a warm hand on his shoulder, "Make sure you read everything my old man makes you sign, Potter."

"Out, Daphne." The girl left and Harry was once again alone with the elder Greengrass.

"Do I have to read all of this?"

"She surmised their contents, Mister Potter. I would recommend reading anything you sign your name to, being that…" Harry stared, waiting for the wizard to continue. "Well, let's get this out of the way."

'For Sirius!'

Harry followed his year mate's advice and read everything, finding everything in order as she had described it.

"Mister Potter, where will you be staying?"

"My relatives." The wizard nodded to himself as Harry gulped more of the sage when he sighed in relief.

"We can discuss getting a case for that pushed through later." His relatives were dismissed again, "Firstly: Do you know what a pensive is?"

Harry shook his head.

"I wouldn't think so. They're hard to make, thus rare. You read the memory clause you signed?" Harry nodded this time. The wizard patted his beard and bent over the side of his armchair. There was the sound of a drawer opening and the wizard pulled up an ornate, metal bowl with strange symbols circling around the sides. "This one is special even among pensives. It can show the exact memory like a portrait playing out."

Harry nodded, rubbing his exhausted right hand. A glimmer Harry didn't like entered the wizard's eyes.

"As your legal counsel in this case, I would like to test this out to make sure your mind is mature enough to handle memory extraction. Please choose a memory you feel comfortable using to test out your capacity."

Harry frowned, "Why would I have problems with this?"

"You're fourteen, Mister Potter. You may feel you've known all about life but you are still developing, there may also be some damage from when you killed You-Know-Who—"

"Voldemort's still around," Harry blurted out. The wizard stared at him, shock on his features. "He was in Hogwarts in my first year—"

Harry knew that he sounded mad when the wizard looked at the ceiling as though praying for a miracle.

"How do I extract the memory?"

The older wizard stuttered out a quick explanation, fear showing on his features. Harry brought his wand to his temple, meditating on the end of his first year.

The wizard played the memory through twice, frowning here and muttering each time they happened on Voldemort's face. The wizard turned away, searching for something below Harry's vision—"Mister Potter. Do not share what you have shared with me to anyone unsavory. I can guarantee that the wrong sort will use this information for the bad of the world."

Harry nodded his head, "Yes, sir."

The wizard grinned at him, "I'd like for you to sign one more thing. This one is optional and—thank you for signing this, Mister Potter."

He put the slip of parchment into an envelope and stood up for the first time since Harry had entered the room. He waxed it shut and put the letter into a small stone bin labeled Gringotts, where it disappeared. A chill went through Harry.

"I will have to research your claims, Mister Potter. I will get in contact with you. Do you have a means of getting home?"

"I can take the Knight Bus…" He trailed off when the wizard stared at him.

"Mister Potter, I will apparate you home. Do you know the coordinates?" Harry tilted his head. "What's your address?"

Harry found that much easier.

"Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. It's in London." The wizard nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. Harry watched him walk around the desk and he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "My relatives don't really like… well, I think it would be best if they didn't know I was with someone of my kind."

"I can talk to them, if you'd like?"

"No! They'd probably get worse towards me…"

"Mister Potter, I ask that you visit Twilfit and Tattings and speak to my wife about formal and casual robes. The way you dress in this world will tell people how to treat you. We want the Wizengamot to treat you with respect. Stand up and I'll take you home."

Harry had barely straightened his knees when the world swirled around them and they were immediately in his relative's backyard. He threw up what felt like quite a bit more than he had eaten. Mister Greengrass rubbed his back the whole time, too.

"It gets better." Harry groaned, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He threw up some more. "Mister Potter, I expect you to have your Gringotts key when I come to pick you up tomorrow. I will be here at three."

Harry nodded, unknowing on what would dissuade the wizard. What would Aunt Petunia say about a wizard coming to visit him?

The next day passed in a blur. He packed his things and at precisely three in the afternoon the doorbell rang once. Harry rushed to beat his aunt to the door. He'd made it halfway down the stairs when—"Is Mister Potter in?"

Aunt Petunia had opened the door for an oddly dressed man. Harry rushed faster, running up to Mister Greengrass.

"I'm here!"

"Madam, may I come in?"

"Why would I let your kind in?"

"We both know that your neighbors will think things if I disappear with your nephew from your front stoop." Aunt Petunia allowed him entrance with a quick motion. The law wizard wrinkled his nose at Aunt Petunia and she wilted a moment before forcing herself to stand up straight, sneering at him.

"Go on, quickly!" He entered the house, careful in his movements. It was clear he didn't want to be here, he looked around Aunt Petunia's foyer with a sneer of his own before he focused on Harry.

"Are you ready, Mister Potter?" Harry nodded and accepted the hand on his shoulder. They appeared a moment later in front of Gringotts. A familiar woman had her arms crossed under her bosom. He swallowed as his cheeks heated up when he remembered the portrait of her in the wizard's office.

"Oh, how lovely… why are you late, Cyrus?"

"Mister Potter's relatives gave me some issues, Twilfit." She looked at Harry, not as a person, but as an item to be added to a collection.

"Mister Potter, savior of us all." Her tone was flat. She was judging him for the worst. "Let's get the paperwork ready."

Harry's right hand gave a twinge and he winced as she entered Gringotts.

"Don't mind my wife, Mister Potter. She doesn't enjoy leaving her boutique alone for too long." Mister Greengrass dragged him into Gringotts and he took Harry to a line he hadn't noticed on any of his last visits.

Time passed quickly and they were promptly taken to a back office where a Goblin stared at Harry.

"Mister Potter." Mrs. Greengrass turned to look at him. Her eyes wandered over his clothes. "Are your relatives having a hard time supporting you?"

He gulped, "They prefer to dress me in my cousin's old castoffs."

She scowled, "My husband won't tell me what it is you're doing with him, I'd suggest to include this in any case you have against them. To dress a child of your status in such a way…"

"Dear—talk about your business with Mister Potter here. I have to see about checking on a case I have pending with Gringotts."

A chill coursed through him and the woman grinned prettily at her husband before rounding on Harry.

"Your eyes are beautiful, Mister Potter, might I suggest some colors that will bring them out?" He looked longingly after Mister Greengrass.

"I think green would be too on the nose, being that you're a boy." The goblin seemed to take pity on him.

"Your balance transfer forms, witch."

"Whatever, goblin." She wrote her signature and handed him the quill she had flicked her wrist to receive. "Mister Potter, these forms are so I can withdraw from your account. Gringotts has insurance for these situations should they go awry, but you should still be careful signing these things. My business is legitimate and I'll compensate you for every personally designed outfit you look bad in."

The blond witch gave him a practiced smirk as she said the last line.

"I'll keep that in mind."

She turned away, "Keep up, Mister Potter. I will fit you for a full wizarding wardrobe. I fear that your Hogwarts robes will have to come from that Malcom woman, we do not have the licences for official Hogwarts robes just yet."

"Right." Harry said, nodding his head and pretending to know what she was talking about as she began to babble through his color choices. He gulped when they stopped in front of a brightly lit building. Fabrics lined the walls and she pointed to a stool in the corner.

"I'll get the fabrics and we can start choosing casual robe colors."

His head hurt. The floo flared to life and the Greengrass girl from his year came flying at the woman who was so carefully setting the last of his dress robes.

"Oi!"

"No, Daphne."

"Am I reading daddy's last contract with Potter right?"

"Shut up! You know I don't like interruptions when I work!"

"But, mum—"

"Go back to his office and we can talk this over a nice family dinner!" Her tone was far from cordial.

"Mum, listen to me—"

"I am almost done! Wait twenty more minutes or so help me—"

"You—"

"Silencio!" The witch screeched at her daughter as she pointed her wand. "I am a perfectionist, dear. Sit next to Mister Potter while I prepare the fabric samples for business wear. I'll make one. You'll wear these when you go to that Wizengamot session with my husband."

Her tone was gentle as she spoke to Harry. Daphne sat on the bench next to him as she gave him a hateful scowl.

"Daphne, seeing as you're stuck here with me until I feel like undoing that helpful charm, take off those heels and organize Mister Potter's things so that I can shrink them for Hogwarts. Now, I'm thinking this summer garnet will do."

Harry nodded, semi-listless as he stared at the witch expertly folding his robes in neat little rectangles. He had more casual robes that he thought he might need in a year's time but—the floo flared to life and allowed Cyrus Greengrass entrance. Daphne didn't look up from her work as she pulled out what appeared to be small shoe boxes out from under the table.

"Is Daphne giving you a problem?"

"It's alright, dear. I silenced her." The witch finished his business robe, the simplest of the lot, and rounded on her daughter. "Cyrus, your daughter is too headstrong. I told her to leave me alone and she wouldn't."

"Narcissa has offered a decent bride price for our younger daughter." She dropped her scissors and began to fold his robe in a neater way than Daphne had done for his other robes. They were still immaculate.

"Well, where is the contract?"

The brunette girl from before, so young and especially innocent compared to him and anyone in his year… he gasped.

He looked at Daphne, who looked wide eyed at her parents, mouth agape. She scowled and turned back to her work.

"I figured I could milk them for more after checking with you." What had he gotten himself into? Mister Greengrass turned to face Harry, "Mister Potter, I've found that you were correct. Mister Black's court records are non-existent. I should have him freed by the end of the next school year."

Harry sucked a breath as he grinned.

"There is just one thing," Greengrass looked at him and patted his wife's hand. "I will waive the legal fee for this. In exchange, I want a favor."

He pointed his wand at Daphne, muttered a spell and continued.

"Is it within reason, sir?"

"You've signed up for it. That extra bit of parchment you signed that day in my office was it." He stilled for a moment and closed his eyes. "Do not break that contract."

He reached into his robes and pulled out a scroll.

"Here is your copy. I did things the old-fashioned way, Mister Potter." He looked pained as he walked up to Harry and held out the scroll. "Read it if you will, Mister Potter."

The first thing Harry noticed was the blank spaces at the top. There were three signatures on one side and a fourth, his own, to the other.

Cyrus Greengrass

Twilfit Greengrass

Daphne Greengrass

The other side had his name alone.

"Shouldn't my relatives have signed this?"

"Mister Potter, in the wizarding world, muggles barely have the right to house a magical child. For all intents and purposes you can sign for yourself outside of schooling matters. Even then, that would only be because the current headmaster feels the need to ask muggles what they think is best for their magical children." Twilfit took a deep breath. It was something that bothered her a lot, at least in Harry's eyes.

Daphne slammed another box on the table, "Father, I really don't think Potter is what you're looking for in a son-in-law!"

She shot him a pleading look and he realized what she was playing at.

"I'm not any good for whatever—"

"Mister Potter, you are a male who shares my daughter's political alignments. You are in succession to a good and talented bloodline, have decent money, and you just need to learn how to use those assets. That is literally all we are looking for for Daphne." Twilfit cut in, "After we let our eldest choose her husband, we thought we could do it for our other two."

"She would have been happier if you hadn't butt into her marriage like you guys did." Daphne was looking down.

"Mister Potter," Mrs. Greengrass said, "If you marry our Daphne, we'll do everything within our power to give you what you want. Name it."

"I just want my godfather to be free to make his choices."

"We'll do it. You can't break this contract until after your OWLs! It will take us some time to get the wheels in motion; that's the longest it should take us. For now, why don't you and Daphne spend the day in the alley." Harry really thought of saying no to that request. It must have shown because Cyrus continued, "You do want your godfather free, correct? Ask my daughter out!"

"Would you—I…" The words were harder to get out than he thought they had any right to be. Harry swallowed as his heart beat harder in his ears. His face was hot. "Would you like to… um…"

"We're going to work on your delivery before we get to Hogwarts, Potter. For now, let's go eat some ice cream." She flinched as her mother made a violent motion with her wand. She batted her eyelashes and clasped her hands to her tilted head, appearing to him as the image of sweetness. "It would be a delight!"

"Ye—yeah…"

She walked out and he followed her after she had left his sight and he had regained his bearings. Well, Cyrus cleared his throat to push him onwards.

This was his future, wasn't it? Daphne was waiting for him and didn't say a word to him as they took their seats for the duration of their stay. She glared at him even after their ice creams arrived. He was going to sign away his future for his godfather's freedom.

"Potter, you know—" Lightheaded, Harry rushed to the nearest trashcan and upchucked.

This was my twist on a Harry Potter/Daphne Greengrass story. The idea was that a death eater who has a great record in the courts would meet his requirements to getting his Godfather freed. Unfortunately, he loves both of his daughters very much so he decides to get them the best suitor for each.

Cyrus was supposed to be an ex-deatheater, subverting the neutral standing that fanon dictates that he is. I thought it'd be fun to make Harry nervous around him when he figured it out until the very last minute.

Daphne was supposed to be a good match, not because of her knowledge of the world that would help Harry, but the views she shared with him and his friends.

Daphne's Motivation would have been: Daphne Greengrass was a genius that really believed she would be able to single-handedly change the world. She needed someone in her life that could match her dreams and support them with vigor. She had a good head on her shoulders, even if she had a poor set of morals that made it nearly impossible to find her a good husband. Some would even call her a blood traitor if she had been sorted into Gryffindor.

I think this would be a fun story to write if any of y'all are interested. There's more, of course, but I don't need another project when I have so many going on.