Author's note:
Several reviewers have complained that the story is "meandering" and that the pacing is too slow. And I'll admit that it's kind of absurd that my million words (so far) only cover a few months of Harry's life. Then again, it's absurd how quickly time passes in canon. For example, why didn't Harry and Cho Chang have a date between their Yule makeout session and Valentine's Day? They were at a frickin' boarding school, for Merlin's sake!
In Loose Cannon, I'm trying to depict something analogous to a university experience, which was an extremely dense time of my life, both in terms of interaction and personal growth. Fanfic is a great medium for this, IMO, because there's no strict limit on story length, other than what the writer (i.e., me) is willing to churn out, and what the readers are willing to endure. So yes, the pace is slow, but I'm doing my darnedest to keep the story entertaining. The slow pacing is probably exacerbated by my publishing only one chapter a week, since that means it takes more than a month of real-world time to cover a week in Loose Cannon. If that bothers you, consider letting several chapters pile up before reading what's new.
In response to the complaints about the story meandering, I spent several hours last night really thinking about how I want this fic to resolve, rather than just trusting the process (which has been my approach so far). And it was time well spent, since I have a much clearer picture of where things are going. I'm still not going to commit to Harry's final pairing, since ultimately the characters will decide, but I've narrowed it down to two candidates. One is Hermione, and one ... isn't. (*Cue evil laugh*)
Thanks for reading, and stay safe!
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On Sunday morning, Alex disappointed Harry by declining to meet his relations that afternoon. 'Meeting your family is a bit much for what's supposed to be a fling.'
'But I want to prove I'm not just interested in bimbos,' he argued.
'Surely Draco will have told his mother I pass muster. I'm the right kind of half-blood, after all.'
Harry rolled his eyes. 'I wish you'd meet Andromeda at least—I'm certain you'll love Teddy.'
'Metamorphmagi are fun,' she admitted. 'But I've encountered one before, so you can't lure me with your poor, innocent godson. And besides, I'd only get in the way at your family reunion. Aren't the Blacks famous for inbreeding?'
'Oi! I'm not pulling at a family reunion!'
'You underestimate yourself, and don't rule anything out. If any of the women are single and look like Sirius, I insist you make a move. And besides, I thought you weren't closely related to them anyway.'
'I'm not. The branch descended from a Squib are mostly my fourth cousins, and the branch who renamed themselves White are fifth cousins, I think.'
'Exactly, you're hardly related at all. Promise me you'll turn on the charm and give at least three witches the Look.'
'I'll make no such promise,' said Harry. 'I'd invite you to my underwear meeting, but Pratt's doesn't allow witches.'
'Don't reject anything out of hand. The only thing more impressive than telling people I'm dating Harry Potter would be telling them I'm dating an underwear model.'
Harry frowned. 'I realise this sounds arrogant, but are you saying that defeating Voldemort is less impressive than being paid to be photographed in Y-fronts?'
'That's exactly what I'm saying. Jodi Schiller and Heidi Binkowski will have a fit.'
'Will I meet them at your wedding?'
'God no! They were my arch-enemies—I'd never invite them to the wedding.'
'But if they were at your wedding, I could get pissed and make a scene about how despondent I am that you won't have me. And with any luck one or both of them would try to console me, and I could reject them. That could be my wedding gift to you.'
'Actually, I'm getting the impression Rocky doesn't want you at the wedding.'
'Because I might get pissed and make a scene?'
'No. But he says it's supposed to be my day, and that you'd draw attention from me.'
'Then what if I don't attend, but I stand vigil outside, and that's what lures Jodi and Heidi?'
'That could work. I'll run it past Rocky—he doesn't like them either.'
Harry got dressed for his lunch at Pratt's. 'Is this all right?' he asked. 'I don't think even Lydia would know what the appropriate outfit is for this kind of meeting.'
'Does it come off easily?'
'I am not stripping today.'
'You'd best get over your shyness,' she said. 'Because everyone in the wizarding world will see those photos if you go through with it.'
He shook his head. 'I can't possibly go through with it. Why am I even going?'
'Because you're head of House Black, and it's your responsibility to rebuild the family fortune by any means necessary. I saw that vault and there were practically tumbleweeds blowing through it. Frankly, I was embarrassed for you.'
She left with the book, promising to return with a Philosopher's Stone if at all possible, and Harry travelled to Pratt's. 'I have a private lunch with Dominic Runnion,' he told the young wizard at the front desk.
'Yes, Mr Potter, right this way.'
Harry wasn't sure what to expect as he was led to the meeting room, but certainly not the silver-haired, grandfatherly-looking wizard who awaited him. Sweet Merlin, he looks like Dumbledore! thought Harry. If his eyes twinkle, I'm out of here.
'Potter, I'm very pleased to meet you. Thank you for coming,' he said, standing and extending his hand. 'I'm Dominic Runnion.'
'It's nice to meet you, Runnion,' said Harry warmly, in an attempt to hide his discomfort. They shook hands and sat down, and Harry ordered lunch before getting to business. 'I confess this is weird for me—I've never considered this kind of endorsement before.'
'No, I imagine not, which is why we're grateful you wrote back.'
'Who is we?' asked Harry.
'My brother Claudius and two of our children. Together we run CDR Enterprises.'
'And do they agree with the plan to hire me?'
'Very much so. My nephew Randall identified the market opportunity—he's partial to Muggle society—and my daughter Estella did extensive research to learn whether the wizarding population is large enough to generate adequate demand.'
'And is it?'
'Yes, although it's not just a question of numbers. At first glance, the population is more than sufficient. But wizards have different habits regarding underwear, and we needed to determine what effect that might have.'
'Habits?' asked Harry uncertainly.
Runnion nodded. 'As you know, there's more than one style of wizarding robes, and not all of them require trousers. A substantial proportion of British wizards prefer not to wear anything down there. The good news is that those are mostly older wizards, and young wizards are more modern. As a rule, they either prefer Muggle clothing or, more recently, what are known as "Harry Potter robes," which include trousers.'
'Yes, but that's Britain. What about Japan?'
Runnion tented his fingers in a way that reminded Harry disturbingly of Dumbledore. 'Japan is interesting,' he said. 'The traditional undergarment, fundoshi, has several different forms, ranging from a loincloth to a thong.'
Harry shook his head emphatically. 'I'm not wearing a thong.'
'No, of course not. Fundoshi have fallen out of fashion amongst Japanese Muggles, and even wizards tend to wear Western-style boxers or briefs.'
Recalling a lecture from Hermione, Harry asked, 'What about cultural imperialism?'
Runnion looked surprised. 'What about it?'
'Wouldn't this just be another example of the British telling foreigners that their own culture isn't good enough, and that if they want to be civilised they need to act like us?'
'In a sense, yes,' said Runnion. 'But most of the damage was done ages ago, and young Japanese wizards are mad for all things British. We're still working out brand names, but it'll definitely include "London" or "UK." But let me show you the numbers,' he added, opening a notebook. 'Until we received your letter, we hadn't considered starting with the Japanese market, but it actually makes a lot of sense. They have more than twice our population, so we'll have economies of scale to cover the start-up costs.'
Harry tried to make sense of the parchment Runnion showed him. 'What am I looking at?'
'There are three columns,' explained Runnion. 'They represent three sets of projections, ranging from conservative to what we'd consider fairly successful. I haven't included the outcome we're hoping for, which is "wildly successful." This line here represents your share of the profits during the first year, not including your modelling fees, which I've noted here.'
Harry's jaw dropped. 'These can't be accurate!' he exclaimed. 'For just one country?'
'Japan is no ordinary country,' said Runnion. 'It's particularly consumer-oriented and, as in Britain, no one in the wizarding clothing business has exploited this niche.'
'But do you have a foothold in that market? In Britain you're at least in the shops already.'
'That's a good question, and the answer is that we don't currently sell in Japan. But on this line here you'll see the percentage we've already negotiated with a Japanese company, who's willing to partner with us,' he said, indicating another section of the parchment. The number was higher than Harry's share, but not by as high a margin as he would have expected.
'I see you're offering me a large cut,' said Harry. 'How much of this venture depends on my participation?'
'Obviously we're hoping you'll participate, otherwise we wouldn't offer you so much. But if you decide against it, we have several options. One would be to hire a local celebrity. Another is to identify another British or European celebrity, probably from the Quidditch world.' He paused. 'And the third is to hire a look-alike.'
'A look-alike!' exclaimed Harry. 'You mean someone with black hair and green eyes?'
'He wouldn't be a dead ringer for you, and he wouldn't have a scar,' said Runnion. 'But yes.'
Harry sighed. 'I suppose I can't stop you, if that's what you decide.'
'We'd rather not go that route,' said Runnion. 'That's why we're making such a generous offer.'
After a silence, Harry said, 'Even if I said yes to Japan, you could still use a look-alike in your other adverts.'
'No, we would never cheapen your image like that—not after paying so much for it in the first place. In fact, we'd have an incentive to seek action against other brands that try the same tactic.'
'Are you saying that if I appear in your Japanese adverts, you'd sue any other underwear makers who use a look-alike in their adverts?'
'Ideally we wouldn't have to file a lawsuit, but yes, we'd take steps against infringement of that nature.'
Harry thought for a moment. On the one hand, I'd be opening myself up to ridicule by appearing in Japanese underwear adverts. But on the other hand, they'd stop people from impersonating me in other underwear adverts. And I'd earn a shit-ton of Galleons for just a few days' work.
Remembering a potential problem, he asked, 'What about my Light magic? Would you expect me to glow in the photographs? That could be problematic.'
'Yes, Randall and I discussed that,' said Runnion. 'We would strongly prefer for you to glow, but we'd have to thoroughly scrutinise any photographs to make sure they behaved acceptably.'
Harry sighed and shook his head. 'I don't see how that could possibly work. Photographs behave differently depending on who's looking at them, which means that if an attractive witch were to look at my photo, I can't guarantee I wouldn't do something shocking.'
Furrowing his brow, Runnion asked, 'You don't have a predilection for underage Japanese schoolgirls, do you?'
'Sweet Merlin, that would be a disaster! I mean, no, I don't think so, but I'd hate to find out by accident.' After a silence, he added, 'I should mention that my first major crush was on a fifteen-year old witch of Chinese descent. I was fourteen, so there wasn't anything wrong with it, but I did spend a lot of time, er, thinking about her.'
'How much time?'
Avoiding Runnion's Dumbledore-blue eyes, Harry said, 'I fancied her for more than a year.'
Runnion took a deep breath. 'We can't risk it. Any full-body shots will have to be non-glowing.'
Harry nodded, and neither spoke for a minute. 'You wouldn't consider using a Muggle photograph instead?' asked Harry.
'It's not out of the question. Randall has gathered quite a scrapbook of Muggle adverts, I must say, and some of them have artistic merit. I can certainly discuss it with him.' Looking at Harry, he asked, 'Are you really considering this?'
'Honestly, I don't know. If it were just for me, I wouldn't bother. But I'm under a lot of pressure to restore the Black family fortune, and this is almost certainly less scandalous than how they built it in the first place.'
'I should say so. And as long as you keep up your Pratt's dues, you'll never be a pariah.'
'Yes, about that,' began Harry. 'Just how much are people here willing to forgive?'
'You tell me,' replied Runnion. 'Didn't I see you conversing with Magnus Travers the week before last?'
'Surely I'm not forgiven!'
'No, but you're not a pariah. And if I let slip just how much you're earning, no one here will cast judgment.'
Harry looked at the parchment again. 'I'm sorry, but I'm having trouble believing these numbers. Do Japanese wizards really buy that much underwear?'
'I understand your confusion ... perhaps I should show you some samples.' Runnion placed a previously hidden briefcase onto the table and opened it. 'There are several styles of undergarment, some of which have never been sold in wizarding shops,' he said, removing the tissue paper wrapping. 'It's also a premium product, made from cotton that was magically grown and processed.'
Harry picked up a pair of boxers and felt the fabric. 'These are nice,' he admitted. 'I don't have any complaints about the underwear I bought from Thimble, but I suspect these are nicer.' He resisted the urge to reach into his trousers and compare.
'Yes, they're a superior grade of cotton and have a higher thread count. They're also charmed for extra softness and breathability.'
Looking at the parchment again, Harry said, 'And you think people will be willing to pay more for them?'
'Yes, with the right advertising. Which is why we're willing to offer you a significant share of the profits, since you're really the ideal spokesman. Not only are you instantly recognisable and widely admired, both as a Seeker and for defeating You-Know-Who, but you also have a growing reputation for appreciating the finer things in life.'
Harry was mortified. Damn you, Harry Toffer! he thought savagely. 'Even in Japan?'
'Oh yes. You've started a mania for fitted robes there as well as here, and they consider flower arrangement an art form. Several Japanese publications have commented favourably on your appreciation for flowers, which distinguishes you from the stereotypical Englishman, whom they consider uncouth.'
'I'm sorry, my mind is reeling right now. I've come to accept that most of the magical world has heard of me, but I never imagined that Japanese publications noticed when I started wearing flowers.'
'They did indeed, and so did the rest of the wizarding world. Furthermore, everyone knows what a dandy is now, and the public seems to relish your newfound extravagance.'
'My extravagance!' said Harry, aghast. 'Are you sure you want me to represent your brand?'
'Absolutely. High-quality underwear is an affordable luxury, and it can be enjoyed discreetly—which the Japanese appreciate as well.'
'Er, I'm not exactly known for my discretion. Have they commented on my loose morals?'
'Yes, and they find it refreshing you're not as uptight as most Anglo-Saxons—as they perceive us anyway.'
That's because I'm not, thought Harry. 'Well, you've given me a lot to consider. I honestly don't know which way I'm leaning—I need to think on it and talk to several people I trust. May I keep this?' he asked, indicating the parchment.
'Of course. And the samples as well,' said Runnion, handing Harry the small pile.
Harry wrapped the samples back in tissue paper and placed them in his pouch. 'When are you hoping for a decision?' he asked.
'I was prepared for you to sign the contract today, but we can give you up to a fortnight to decide.' He gave Harry a copy of the contract and encouraged him to bring it to Gringotts for review.
'Thank you,' said Harry, and their lunch arrived. He appreciated the silence as they ate, since it gave him time to reflect. I can't possibly do this, right? he thought. Everyone here will find out, and I'll be a laughing stock.
But it'll prove I'm serious about earning money, which Percy says is essential if I want to promote my agenda in the Wizengamot. Harry paused to consider the absurdity of appearing in Japanese underwear adverts to advance goblin rights. Perhaps future generations of British goblins will remember me as a hero, and they'll hang my adverts in their classrooms.
He finally said, 'Do you really think this won't ruin my reputation, or what's left of it? There's a lot I want to accomplish politically, and I'm worried this could hurt my chances.'
Runnion nodded sagely, reminding Harry again of Dumbledore. 'I understand your concern, but frankly, you've faced numerous scandals already, and every time you emerge even stronger. You underestimate the power of your sincerity.'
'I'm not sure I see the connection. What do you mean?'
'Dishonesty more than anything is what brings down politicians—that and hypocrisy, which go hand in hand. But you don't pretend to be something you're not. Everyone knows you're a very ... physical young man, and that you don't let fear stop you from doing what you like. And besides, there's nothing hypocritical about endorsing a product everyone uses, and I promise the photographs will be tasteful. At most, you'll have to explain yourself on the radio when word gets out, and you'll come out the winner as always.'
'You may be right,' said Harry, 'but I still need to think about it.'
Runnion reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder. 'You might be interested in this as well. It shows our projections of what you'd earn in countries other than Japan. North America in particular is a goldmine, but France, Germany, and Scandinavia are also substantial markets.'
'Thanks,' said Harry, who took the folder without opening it. That was very Slytherin of him—bringing up all those other countries makes Japan sound minor by comparison.
They finished eating and Harry left, promising to decide within a fortnight. The next challenge, he knew, was going to be soliciting advice from Andromeda and Narcissa. He had no idea how they'd react, and he only hoped he'd get to discuss it without Draco present.
He returned home to find Kreacher in a tizzy. 'All the Blacks will be here in an hour!' fretted the elf, who was frantically polishing everything he deemed insufficiently shiny. 'Kreacher needs more flowers!' he cried, filling yet another vase in the entrance hall. 'This isn't enough!'
'Yes it is,' said Harry. 'And the house looks lovely. All the wallpaper is attached, and even Padfoot is on his best behaviour.' Padfoot was looking exceptionally regal, standing like a champion while the Hippogriff held his lead within its beak.
'Master Sirius is not to be trusted,' grumbled Kreacher.
'That's not Sirius, that's Padfoot,' said Harry. 'And he's behaved perfectly ever since his week with the dog trainer. It's the other portraits I'm worried about ... Did you really need to bring them out?'
Kreacher had used mysterious house-elf magic to unearth every portrait in the house, including those from the most distant and fractured guest rooms. The walls were covered with them, and their whispers followed Harry wherever he went.
'Why haven't you changed your name yet?' demanded a haughty-looking wizard wearing an Elizabethan ruff. 'The tapestry says Black, but you still call yourself Potter.'
'I've been waiting to meet the other Blacks first,' said Harry. 'The family should be about more than just me.'
'There's a reason they were disinherited,' said the portrait. 'They weren't worthy of the name.'
'And I am? I'm a half-blood Light wizard with a worldwide reputation for extravagance and sex-addiction.'
'Your parentage is unfortunate,' said the portrait. 'And clearly you'll never practise the Dark arts, corrupted as you are. But your income exceeds your extravagance, and as long as you choose a wife carefully you'll have no lack of heirs. Are you sure you won't reconcile with Miss Travers?'
'Yes, I'm sure,' said Harry firmly.
'But your children would be splendid,' said a witch clothed entirely in black, including a heavy lace veil. 'With her aristocratic features, she'd make up for your unfortunate Muggle physiognomy.'
'Nice try, but I'm the image of my pure-blood father,' said Harry. 'Except for my eyes, which everyone says are my best feature.'
'I've never seen a wizard with eyes that shade of green,' she said disdainfully. 'Won't you consider marrying a Black? That's the best way to ensure continuity.'
'There is no bloody way I'll marry someone who's already a Black! Inbreeding is what got this family into trouble in the first place.'
'You haven't any close relations, so there's no risk of that,' said the veiled witch. 'All you have is a Black strain from a minor branch of the family, so you can safely marry anyone you meet this afternoon.'
'Even someone from the Squib branch?' said Harry.
'That's less than ideal,' admitted the witch, 'but perhaps some of them feature the Blacks—compare them to the portraits.'
Harry looked at her sceptically. Would it be rude to ask why she's hiding behind a veil? he wondered.
'You want to know why my face is hidden,' she said.
'Er, yes. I am a bit curious, but of course it's none of my business.'
'It's no secret,' she replied. 'Any of the other portraits will tell you why Annabel Black wears a veil. Just ask.'
Harry turned to the wizard wearing the ruff. 'Excuse me, why does Annabel Black wear a veil?'
'Because she's so beautiful,' said the portrait reverently.
'I'm sorry?'
'Yes, she's exquisite. Impossibly lovely—she was famous throughout Europe.'
'Then why are you hiding?' Harry asked her.
'I was stared at my entire life,' she said contemptuously. 'Gawked at and drooled over by moronic wizards, who were always trying to propose marriage.'
'Trying?'
'They couldn't string the words together. It was incredibly tiresome. I refused to marry anyone and remained at home, waiting for age to take my beauty.'
'But it didn't,' said the wizard. 'She only grew lovelier. Her lips more crimson, her hair more lustrous, her eyes more brilliant.' With a sigh of pleasure, he added, 'We portraits used to just follow her around the house—it was like basking in sunshine.'
'I eventually hid in my room,' she said. 'It was the only place I was safe. And when I choked to death on a bone at age fifty, I thought I was finally free, but my family engaged a portrait painter who worked from Pensieve memories to immortalise me. And so I had my revenge.'
'The veil?'
'Yes. I stole it from another portrait—it's actually a tablecloth. The other portraits have tried to remove it, but my will is too strong. I'll never be seen again.'
Harry thought for a moment. 'But if beauty is such a curse, why do you want me to marry for looks?'
'Ordinary beauty is fine,' she said. 'I'd have done anything to be ordinarily beautiful. But I was preternaturally beautiful, and there was nothing to be done about it.'
'Did you try Polyjuice Potion?'
'Yes, once. But all it did was permanently remove a tiny blemish on my shoulder, which I'd treasured as my sole flaw.'
Harry was desperately curious to see her, but he knew he daren't ask. 'Do you ever remove your veil, when no one's around?'
'Despicable wizard!' she cried. 'You're asking because you have an Invisibility Cloak!'
'No, I wasn't,' protested Harry. But that's a fantastic idea, he thought. 'I'm sorry your beauty was such a curse,' he said sincerely. 'I've been called an aesthete, which means I see beauty where other people mightn't, and it overwhelms me sometimes. So I probably shouldn't look at you, because I might lose myself completely.'
'Aesthetes are the worst,' she said. 'I never understood how people who claim to appreciate beauty could write such ghastly poetry.'
'Master!' interrupted Kreacher, who had appeared with a loud crack. 'Where should Kreacher put Mistress's portrait?'
'What?' cried Harry. 'Don't tell me you took Walburga!'
'Yes, Master! It's a Black family reunion!'
'But these are all the people she scorched from the tapestry!' said Harry. 'No one wants to see her.'
'That's not true,' replied Kreacher. 'There was a long queue of people waiting to see Mistress just now.'
'And you took her without asking? Put her back this instant!'
Kreacher's ears drooped. 'But Mistress was so pleased to see Kreacher.'
'Do you miss her?'
'Yes, Master. Mistress scolds Kreacher for serving Master now. It is a fine punishment.'
Sweet Salazar, thought Harry, he misses Walburga's punishments. 'I insist you bring her back to the shop straight away. But I'll talk with Lee and George, and we'll arrange for you to see her regularly. Would you like that?'
'Yes, Master!' chirruped Kreacher, before correcting himself. 'No, Master! That would be a most severe punishment.'
'Then that's your punishment for bringing her back here,' said Harry sternly. 'You're to visit her once a week from now on.'
Kreacher looked like he was about to burst into song. 'Yes, Master! Kreacher will bring Mistress back straight away.' Crack!
Harry went down to the sitting room, where he responded to fan mail under the watchful eyes of the portraits. 'Don't they teach penmanship anymore?' said a stern-looking witch.
He ignored her, but then a wizard holding a telescope started reading over his shoulder. 'You're clever to write back to the children,' he said. 'That's how you gain adherents—get them while they're young.'
'I'm not trying to gain adherents!' said Harry. 'I write back to children because they enjoy getting a personal reply.'
'If that's what you tell yourself, who am I to argue?' said the portrait loftily. 'But one day you'll appreciate your own cunning. You're a Black now, you know.'
'Yes, I know,' drawled Harry. 'I have black hair and everything.'
'Harry, are you in there?' called Andromeda.
He hastily put his correspondence away and told her he'd be right up. 'Don't insult my guests,' he warned the portraits. 'They're all that remain of House Black, and if you're hoping for continuity you should at least be polite.'
'Yes, my Lord,' said a surly-looking portrait as Harry went upstairs.
Andromeda frowned when she saw him. 'Is that what you're wearing?'
'Er, what's wrong with it?' he asked, looking down at his daytime-appropriate robes.
'I was hoping you'd dress more formally. Surely you have something else to wear.'
'Yes, of course,' he said, puzzled. 'Where's Teddy?'
She began leading him upstairs. 'He's in Sirius's old room with a babysitter—I didn't want him underfoot all afternoon.' They reached the third floor, and she asked, 'This is your bedroom, right? May I enter or do you have someone in there?'
'Go ahead,' he said. 'The wardrobe is on the right.'
Andromeda did a double take when she saw just how large his bed was, and she entered his wardrobe and began examining all the robes. 'Oh!' she exclaimed. 'I haven't even seen most of these before!'
What's your point? thought Harry irritably. He was still dismayed about his growing reputation for extravagance. 'What do you want me to wear?'
'I honestly don't know,' she said sharply. 'On the one hand, a formal outfit would show respect, but you might also look haughty, and I've heard you described that way. But if you dress down, they might assume you're slumming to fit in with all the poor relations.'
'Are they poor?' he asked.
'I don't know, but none of them received an inheritance, unless you count the Squib, who was left in an orphanage with a silver rattle engraved with the family name. That's the only reason he knew his true surname.'
Andromeda was speaking unusually fast, which worried Harry. 'Are you all right?' he asked.
'No, I'm a nervous wreck!' she snapped. 'What if they don't like me?'
'Oh, Andromeda! Why wouldn't they like you?'
'Because no one in the family ever liked me, except for Sirius.'
'That's not true at all,' he said, pulling her into a hug. She stiffened but then relaxed, and when they pulled apart he said, 'Narcissa likes you.'
'Only because there's no one left. But maybe she'll like one of the new relations better.'
'I doubt it. She doesn't exactly warm up to people quickly,' he said, and Andromeda smiled just a little. 'And besides, I'm in the family now, and I think the world of you.'
'Do you?' she asked timidly. 'I mainly just scold you.'
'You're the only person I let scold me. You and Tuttle, my coach. But I'm sure the other Blacks will like you—you're the one who's been writing to them, after all.'
She nodded and straightened her shoulders. 'You're right. Forgive me, Harry—I shouldn't have lost control like that.'
'If you call that losing control, then I'm really not a Black.'
'It's different for wizards,' she said stiffly. 'And don't forget Walburga.' Looking again at his well-stocked wardrobe, she pulled out the dove grey robes and the floral waistcoat. 'These are lovely for daytime. And I'm certain I saw pink roses downstairs.'
She let him alone to change, and then he found her again in the reception hall with Narcissa and Draco. 'I see you're wearing your aristocrat costume,' said Draco. 'It's laughable, of course, but at least I'm not overdressed.'
'Ignore him,' said Narcissa, greeting Harry with an air-kiss. 'You're dressed appropriately for a Head of House.'
Harry welcomed them, drawing only a sneer from Draco. 'Remember it's the weekend, Potter, so everything is your fault.'
'Of course, silly me. Would you like to meet Padfoot?' said Harry, but their attention was drawn to the fireplace, which had flared green.
'Here they come,' announced Draco. 'Try not to shag anyone.'
To Harry's mortification, the first guest plainly heard Draco's comment. 'Oh, I say!' exclaimed the elegant-looking witch who appeared. She stepped quickly from the fireplace and was followed by a wizard roughly the same age as Narcissa and Andromeda. 'I'm Julietta White, and this is my husband Perseus.'
'Yes, of course,' said Andromeda warmly. Turning to the others, she added, 'Perseus was named for his grandfather, who was cast from the family seventy years ago.' Greetings were exchanged, and a flood of guests soon arrived.
Harry did his best to remember names, but it was difficult because so many people resembled one another. Black hair is clearly a dominant trait, he thought, and he felt an unfamiliar but pleasant sense of belonging. Most of the surnames were either Black or White, but other names were represented as well.
The Whites are definitely more posh, he observed, but that wasn't surprising, since they were founded by a wizard who was raised a Black. But the Blacks are more fun, he thought, and he suspected Tonks would have got on brilliantly with them. They were the branch descended from a Squib, and they proved Andromeda's 'hybrid vigour' theory, with two Metamorphmagi. One was about forty and the other, his daughter, was fifteen, and they were keen to meet Teddy.
Everyone gathered in the drawing room, where the tapestry was examined in detail. 'Priapus Maximus?' was a common exclamation, but fortunately Andromeda didn't hear the young witch who started laughing over 'Nymphadora Vulpecula.'
'Shh,' said Harry. 'That was Andromeda's daughter, who insisted we all call her Tonks.'
'I feel fortunate my mother refused to name us after constellations,' said the witch, whose name Harry had made a point of learning.
'I'm relieved to hear it,' he said. 'I didn't think there was a constellation called Catherine, but I wasn't the best student.'
'That's an understatement,' said Draco. 'All of our professors gave the Chosen One a free pass—it was an absolute scandal.'
Harry rolled his eyes. 'Yes, Umbridge in particular let me get away with anything. And fake Professor Moody even cheated for me in the Triwizard Tournament, but I'm not sure if that counts since he was trying to kidnap me.'
'Don't you ever tire of talking about yourself?' sneered Draco.
Catherine laughed and said, 'I thought you two were best mates now!'
'Because Potter risked his life for me? Don't be fooled—he's still a reckless Gryffindor.'
'Untrue!' cried Harry, pulling out an embroidered handkerchief. 'Draco's just upset because he never learnt how to share.'
Catherine smiled saucily, and her grey eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them. Is it wrong that I'm attracted to someone who looks like a young Walburga? Harry wondered.
'The more I learn about the Hogwarts houses, the more grateful I am to have attended Binglingham,' she said. 'The founders both attended Hogwarts and were convinced the houses did more harm than good, and I'm inclined to agree. But perhaps you can change my mind.'
'You may be right,' began Harry, but Draco interrupted him. 'The houses weren't the problem—Gryffindors were the problem.'
'How in Merlin's name did you come up with that?'
'Gryffindor is all about war,' said Draco. 'The founder's most famous artefact is a sword.'
'Yeah, because someone had to stop all the insatiably ambitious Slytherins from taking over,' retorted Harry.
'Are you describing yourself?' asked Draco.
'He has the insatiable part covered,' said Catherine with a smirk.
'Light magic!' protested Harry. 'And Draco's no angel.'
'No, I'm just discreet,' replied Draco, looking Harry in the eye.
Don't mention the prostitutes, thought Harry. Got it.
'Will you remain discreet now that you're allowed to leave your manor?' asked Catherine.
'Yes, because I wasn't raised by wolves like our esteemed Head of House.'
'Which house are you talking about?' asked Catherine innocently. 'My name's White.'
'And mine is Malfoy.' Looking at the tapestry, he added, 'And your mother was a Baxter.'
'A disinherited Baxter ... I come from rebellious stock on both sides,' she said, her eyes meeting Draco's.
Blimey, she fancies Draco and not me! Harry was embarrassed to realise he'd assumed she wanted him, since so many other witches did. Well, good for Draco, although I probably shouldn't point out they're third cousins.
'Does that make you a rebel as well?' asked Draco. 'Or does it cancel out and mean you're more traditional?'
'It means I make my own choices,' she replied. 'I decide which rules are worth following. Some are, but others definitely aren't.'
Draco swallowed. 'Potter, don't you have some relations you need to suck up to?'
'No, that was last week,' said Harry, amused. 'But I'll let you alone.'
He found Andromeda, who was talking with Catherine's grandparents, Aloysius and Diantha, as well as several other members of the White family. 'I was just telling Andromeda what a pleasure it is to connect with my father's family at last,' said Aloysius. 'He never regretted renouncing the Dark Arts, as I'm sure you can appreciate, but he treasured family and was sorry to be cast out. That's why he changed his name—he wanted to spare his children the pain of ongoing rejection.'
'I'm sorry I never got to meet him,' said Harry. 'And I'm sure Sirius would have appreciated having another branch of the family as well.'
'I have to confess it was a relief not sharing a surname with him,' said Aloysius. 'At least his appearance changed in Azkaban, so he didn't particularly resemble my sons anymore, but until he was exonerated I had no interest in being connected to him.'
Harry tried to conceal his dismay. 'What about now?' he asked. 'Would any of you consider changing your name to Black?'
Aloysius and Perseus exchanged glances. 'I might ask you the same question,' said the elder wizard.
'That's fair. Yes, I would like to change my name—to Harry Potter-Black, with a hyphen. Sirius was like a father to me, and one of his last requests was that I reinvent the Blacks as a Light family. This seems the best way to start that process.'
'And what about your children?' asked Aloysius.
'Their surname would be Potter-Black to start with, but when they come of age they could choose whichever name they prefer. Hopefully I'll have at least two sons, although there's no law against a daughter passing down the name instead.'
'No, although it would be unusual.' Aloysius glanced at Perseus again and added, 'But getting back to your question, there's no reason for me to change my name. I've had it my entire life, and I don't plan to father more children.'
'Perseus, what about you?' asked Harry. 'The reason I ask is because I don't want the family to be all about me—I'd much rather be one of a crowd.'
'You'll never be one of a crowd,' said Perseus. 'You'll always be the leader, both as Head of House and because you're so famous. But speaking frankly, I'm proud of my surname. Grandfather chose it, and I and his other descendants are doing our best to give it meaning. And unless you die without issue and name one of us Head of House, we'll only be a minor branch of the family. So in answer to your question, I don't intend to change my name.'
His brother—Catherine's father—and a male cousin were listening, and they both nodded agreement. 'I understand completely,' said Harry. 'That's part of why I'm hyphenating rather than changing my name entirely—to remember my father and all the other Potters. And I get why you mightn't want to share a surname with me, given my inability to stay out of the papers.'
'That's true, but we won't deny we're related—not at all,' said Aloysius warmly. 'My father wasn't a Light wizard, but he was proud of his Patronus, and I know he'd appreciate what you're doing. And I hope you'll still consider us part of the family, just as you consider Andromeda and the Malfoys family, even though they have a different surname.'
'Of course,' said Harry. 'And please let me know how I might assist House White.'
Andromeda caught Harry's eye and raised one eyebrow. Oh dear, he thought. Did I just make a mistake?
Aloysius and his two sons looked surprised. 'That's very generous of you,' said the patriarch. 'I'm certain we'll take you up on that.'
Oh bugger, thought Harry. I just made a financial commitment, didn't I? I hope they're not offended by Japanese underwear adverts.
Andromeda wrapped up the conversation and deftly took Harry aside. 'That was entirely my fault—I should have warned you. Without realising it, you just offered to sponsor another house.'
'What does that mean exactly?'
'If you'd just offered assistance, that would be one thing, but when you said "House White" you implied you'd ultimately help them get a Wizengamot seat.'
'A Wizengamot seat! How often do they even become available?'
'Maybe once a generation.'
Blast! I was hoping to establish House Potter! thought Harry irritably. 'I assume Wizengamot seats don't come cheap.'
'They don't, and the Whites mightn't be able to afford it the next time one is available. But when they are ready, you'll be expected to advocate for House White, because seat transfers require Wizengamot approval.'
'So I won't have to pay for it?'
'You'll be expected to make a significant contribution, but nowhere near the entire cost.'
'That's not so bad then,' said Harry, relieved.
'No, but you also invited them to approach you with business propositions, which you'll be expected to support as long as they're sound. And they'll want introductions as well—expect to hear from their children when they're looking for jobs.'
'Right.' He looked across the room at the senior members of the Black family. 'Do I need to offer the same to the other branch?'
'They won't know to ask for it,' said Andromeda. 'And there's no need for a Wizengamot seat, since they have the same surname. But if you want to be fair, you should offer your influence and support.'
'What have you learnt about them?' he asked quietly. 'I wasn't familiar with the school they attended, and they didn't talk about their careers. But they're fun, and I think Sirius would have adored them.'
'Yes, and Dora too,' she said. 'But they're not high-status—I'm sure Narcissa is appalled, although she can't deny the family resemblance. And they seem well-educated enough, just not well-connected.'
Harry nodded. 'I should offer to help them. And frankly, that's more appealing than helping the Whites, who seem to be doing all right on their own.'
'I'm not so sure,' said Andromeda. 'They're genteel, certainly, but they mightn't be wealthy. I suppose you'll find out.'
Together they approached some of the members of the Black family. 'I hope you're right about not being able to overfeed Padfoot,' said a grey-haired witch named Margaret. 'My grandchildren are tossing in everything he could possibly eat, and a lot he probably won't.'
Chuckling, Harry asked, 'Is food piling up in front of him?'
'No, because Hippogriffs will apparently eat anything.' Looking around, she said, 'The kids are thrilled to be here, and I am as well. I can't tell you what it's like to have gone my whole life feeling like an outsider in the wizarding world, but then to learn that my grandfather, a Muggle orphan, belonged to such an illustrious family.'
'Didn't you make the connection when you and your brothers all turned out magical?' asked Harry.
'No, because we didn't attend Hogwarts, and it's a common name. Furthermore, we hadn't seen pictures of the Blacks except for your godfather's prison photo, and apparently he no longer looked himself.'
'What about Bellatrix?' asked Andromeda. 'She wasn't as badly ravaged by Azkaban as Sirius was.'
'That's true, and several people noticed the resemblance, but we didn't know her maiden name. It hardly matters, though, since the family wouldn't have acknowledged us until now anyway.'
'I hope you'll consider yourselves part of the family now,' said Harry warmly.
'I do, even though my surname hasn't been Black since I was married.' She turned to her brother and asked, 'How do you feel about it, Elliott?'
'I'm still gobsmacked,' he admitted. 'Not just to be related to an old family, but to Harry Potter. We owe you our lives, after all.'
'I'm just glad you made it through the war,' said Harry, and he listened to their stories about how they'd survived as Muggle-borns. Eventually, with Andromeda's prompting, he asked, 'Are you willing to join the family more formally?'
'I'm not sure what you mean,' said Elliott's son Marvin. 'I thought that's what this reunion was about.'
'It is,' began Harry, 'but I'm also hoping you'll consider yourselves just as much a part of the family as Andromeda and I are.'
'Does that mean you're changing your name?' asked Elliott cautiously.
'With your leave, yes.'
'With my leave?' he exclaimed. 'You're Head of House!'
'Yes, but it affects you, particularly if you publicly announce you're part of the family.'
Elliott chuckled. 'I'm not sure what that would entail, other than hanging a photograph of us together at my sandwich shop. Although I wouldn't complain if you came round occasionally—it'd be good for business.'
'I'd be glad to,' said Harry. 'But there's more to it than that. Perhaps Andromeda can explain.'
A fair number of the adult Blacks listened as Andromeda explained what Harry's patronage would mean. 'You'd really make introductions for us?' exclaimed a young witch. 'I'm working in a shop now, but my dream is to become a Healer. My N.E.W.T.s were good enough, but they only take so many apprentices every year, and Wipperham School of Magic is pretty far down the list.'
'I can't make any promises, but I can certainly try. My ultimate goal, though, is to make wizarding Britain more egalitarian across the board, and not just for my relations.'
'Of course, and I agree one hundred percent,' said the witch, whose name was Lisa. 'My classmates are all in the same boat.'
'If you and your friends have suggestions about how to improve things, I'm all ears. Please, spread the word.'
'You really aren't haughty at all,' she said. 'In spite of those robes.'
'Andromeda made me wear them!' he said, and everyone laughed. 'But seriously, will you mind if I change my name? I want to change it to Harry Potter-Black.'
'The damage is done,' said Margaret lightheartedly. 'Ever since the Lord Black story came out, people have been asking if we're related to you, and then we received your letter in August. And yes, you're a bit notorious, but it's a good conversation-starter if nothing else.'
'My mates think it's brilliant we're related,' said Lisa. 'Although they keep making jokes about inbreeding and how you'll try to seduce me this afternoon.'
She was pretty, and under different circumstances Harry might have been interested. But he liked the idea of having cousins his own age and didn't want to ruin it, so he decided to play along. Giving her an exaggerated version of the Look, he asked, 'Would you like a private tour of the house?' Deepening his voice, he added, 'I could show you Walburga's Wonderland.'
Everyone laughed uproariously, and she turned him down, but Harry was undeterred. 'It's been hours since my girlfriend left,' he pleaded, 'and I won't see her again until Tuesday.'
'Too bad, I'm not keen on cousins. But if you throw another party I'll invite all my mates.'
'Perfect, I'll seduce them instead,' he joked. 'And let me know what kind of Quidditch player you prefer.'
The reunion started drawing to a close, and although the two branches hadn't mixed as much as Harry would have liked, there had at least been some interaction. Word of Harry's offer travelled fast among the Whites, and everyone thanked him profusely, which made him nervous. I should probably look at the North America projections, he thought.
After everyone left, Narcissa and Andromeda evaluated how things had gone. 'Harry, I should have warned you not to offer help lightly, or to refer to them as House White,' said Narcissa. 'Helping the Blacks is one thing—clearly they need it—but the Whites are another matter.'
'So you don't object to my helping the Blacks?'
'No, it's an absolute scandal for you to have poor relations like that. They're rather common, unfortunately, but perhaps in a generation or two they'll clean up.'
'I liked them, and I hope they won't change too much,' said Harry. 'But with any luck I can improve their prospects.'
'They'll benefit from introductions more than anything,' said Narcissa. 'But now that you've endorsed House White, they'll want a Wizengamot seat when the chance arises.'
'Yes, Andromeda explained it to me.'
'They mightn't be ready anytime soon, but they'll want your help building a fortune and alliances,' she warned him. 'Perseus White may have rejected the Dark Arts, but clearly he didn't reject any of the other family traits, including ambition. And his descendants are similar.'
Harry wondered where Draco was. He'd talked with Catherine for a long while, but she left with her parents and he was still absent.
'Speaking of finances,' began Harry, 'I received a unique business proposition, and I can't decide whether to accept it.' The sisters looked at him expectantly, and he took a deep breath. 'I've been asked to endorse and model high-quality men's undergarments.'
Both witches gasped. 'In England?' asked Andromeda hoarsely.
'No, I told them Britain is out of the question. I was going to turn it down entirely, but my teammates suggested I ask about Japan.' He pulled out the first parchment Runnion had given him and showed them his estimated earnings.
'In a single year?' exclaimed Narcissa, and Harry nodded. 'And you'd appear in their advertisements only wearing ... their products?'
'Yes, but not glowing, and it probably wouldn't be a wizarding photograph.'
Andromeda exhaled. 'That's one disaster averted. But do magazines really run adverts like that?'
'Muggle magazines do,' said Harry. 'And if you go to Piccadilly Circus you'll see underwear adverts on posters and billboards.'
'Billboards!' said Narcissa, horrified. 'They want to display you like that on billboards?'
'Not in Britain,' he said. 'But yes, in Japan.'
'People here will find out,' said Andromeda. 'Within weeks, probably.'
'Then why only Japan?' asked Narcissa. 'Aren't they willing to sell anywhere else?'
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'Are you saying I should do it?'
'Not in Britain,' said Narcissa firmly. 'But surely you'd make a fortune in North America.'
'I haven't looked at the numbers yet, but you're probably right.' He opened the folder Runnion had given him and they looked at it together.
'Sweet Circe,' gasped Andromeda. 'And this is for one year?'
'Yes,' replied Harry, astonished. 'What do you think?'
Andromeda was still staring at the parchment. 'It'll hardly be the biggest scandal you've caused. And not only will you earn a significant amount of gold, but you'll have more to invest. Have you identified any good ventures yet?'
'One or two,' he said, without providing details. 'But shall I show you the kind of photographs we're talking about?'
'You mean you've taken them already?' exclaimed Narcissa.
'No, from a Muggle magazine. I have one in the sitting room.'
Both witches nodded, and Harry went downstairs to fetch it. To his dismay, Draco was just walking in when he returned.
'The pure-bloods weren't bad,' announced Draco, but then he noticed the parchment his mother and aunt were still studying. 'What's that?'
Harry sighed heavily. 'Andromeda, would you explain?'
She told Draco the essentials, and he grew livid. 'You can't possibly do it!' he cried.
'Those numbers are annual,' said Narcissa.
'I don't care! Nobody wants to see that!'
'Apparently they do,' replied Andromeda. 'Are those the photos, Harry?'
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, and Harry said, 'They're not pictures of me, you prat. These are Muggle underwear adverts.' He opened the magazine to a Calvin Klein advert he'd dog-eared.
'Oh!' exclaimed the sisters simultaneously. 'Do you really look like that?' asked Narcissa, staring first at the advert and then at Harry's clothed abdomen.
'My muscles aren't as big, but yeah,' said Harry. 'Remember I had a year of Auror training before joining the Cannons.'
Draco was frowning. 'Only Muggles look like that,' he scoffed. 'All that manual labour.'
'My teammates all look like that,' said Harry. 'And what about Crabbe and Goyle?'
'They were anomalies,' said Draco, whose frown had advanced into a scowl.
Harry showed them several more adverts. 'They're not unlike ancient Greek statues,' said Narcissa. 'The Parkinsons have several like that in their garden.'
'Yes, Pansy used to talk about them incessantly,' grumbled Draco. 'Are you really suggesting Potter do this?'
'He offered to sponsor both branches of the family this afternoon,' she said. 'What choice does he have, particularly if he won't engage in normal business practices?'
Oh bugger, I need to tell them, thought Harry. 'Er, that's not strictly true,' he said.
'What?!' cried Draco. 'You said you wouldn't!'
'I had an idea. And I mentioned it to a couple of people I trust, and they're eager to make it happen.'
'You need my help,' insisted Draco. 'I know exactly who to talk to, in every department.'
Harry shook his head emphatically. 'My friends won't trust you. I'm sure they won't agree to it.'
'Then they're idiots, and you shouldn't do business with them,' said Draco. 'Let me guess—they've never done this sort of thing before.'
'No, but they're well-placed.'
'It doesn't matter,' said Narcissa. 'You need someone with the right contacts. There are traps within the Ministry—people with a reputation for accepting bribes but who are actually informants. This is why first-timers never succeed.'
'Ugh, what do you think, Andromeda?'
She looked embarrassed. 'I never would have encouraged you to do this, based on your earlier refusals, but it's definitely the easiest way to earn Galleons. I assume there's nothing harmful or exploitative about your venture?'
'No, not at all. It would be beneficial, actually.' Please don't ask for the details, he implored silently.
'You need Draco's help,' said Andromeda. 'The Ministry is chock-full of informants, and they receive a bonus for catching would-be bribers.' She paled and asked, 'Will you be directly involved?'
'No, I'll just be an investor, and I'm to negotiate with Gringotts, since we'll need their help.'
'They can still trace it back to you if your friend is caught,' said Andromeda. 'And Bode won't hesitate to throw the book at you. You need Draco.'
Harry sighed. 'I'll talk to my partners.' Looking down at the open magazine, he asked, 'What should I do about the adverts?'
'Do them,' said Andromeda. 'You can weather the scandal, and it'll distract from your other venture.'
'Are you sure it won't hurt my chances of advancing legislation?'
'Not if you let slip how much you're earning. No one will laugh at those numbers.'
'Not just Japan then?' asked Harry.
'No, North America as well,' said Narcissa. 'And once it comes out you can do the Continent. Just not Britain.'
Harry looked questioningly at Draco, who scowled again. 'Yes, do it. But let me into your business venture, or else I'll take the lead in mocking you when your photos reach Britain.'
'You'll mock me regardless,' replied Harry, but he relaxed knowing the decision was made.
The sisters continued talking, and although Harry didn't ask Draco how things had gone with Catherine, he could tell the other wizard was pleased. Is she an 'Everything but' pure-blood? Harry wondered. And does she have matrimonial designs on Draco? Harry hoped she did, not least because it would explain why she hadn't been interested in him.
I've really turned into an insufferable prat, thought Harry with amusement. No wonder Draco and I get on so well.
