Chap. 2: The Visit.

Harry woke the next morning at 7:30 AM and started to make his way to the upstairs loo to shower. When he opened the door to step into the hall, he almost stepped on a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich. It must have been Dudley, Harry thought, who had actually been treating him decently since he had arrived back at No. 4.

Well, Harry wasn't going to turn it down, so he picked up the saucer holding the teacup, along with the plate and sandwich, and made his way to his small desk. Next, he opened the window to let Hedwig out and sat down to break his fast. On his second bite of sandwich, Harry noticed a large eagle owl swooping toward No. 4, and sure enough, in through his window it came, where it dropped a letter on the foot of his bed, but then quickly left back through the window.

When Harry picked the letter up, he noticed the seal on the back had a large letter M on it, and on the front, it was addressed to Mr. H. Potter, and the sender was the Ministry of Magic, which caused him to raise one eyebrow before quickly breaking the seal and opening it. Needless to say, it didn't take the young wizard long to read it.

The Ministry Of Magic

No. 1-UG Whitehall Pl., London SW1A 2HN, United Kingdom

Sunday, June 30th, 1996

Mr. Potter,

The Minister for Magic will be making a visit at your home, at Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, at 9:30 AM, sharp, on the morning of June 29th, 1996. Please be available for his arrival.

Regards,

Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic, OOM

p. p. Percy I. Weasley, J.A.M.M.

CC: A.M.M.

Harry reread the letter, quickly, and looked at the repaired alarm clock beside his bed.

"Shite!" Harry exclaimed, "It's ten till eight! Doesn't this new minister take a feckin day off?"

Next, he took two large bites of his bacon sandwich, quickly chewing each and swallowing them down, while almost choking, and then he drank his tea, which was now lukewarm, with four huge gulps. He then grabbed his clean drawers and hurried across the hall to take a quick shower.

Once done, he quickly dressed in a white dress shirt, and a pair of black slacks, which were part of his school uniform, and then barged into Dudley's room, where his cousin was still lounging on the bed. What was odd, was that Dudley quickly yanked the duvet up to his belly, and he seemed to still have his right hand under the cover. Did he just catch his imbecilic cousin rubbing one off?

"Dudley," Harry said, after clearing his throat, and quickly turning toward Dudley's closet, "I need to borrow a tie."

"Er, yea, sure, Harry," Dudley said with a slight blush. "What are you getting ready for, anyhow?"

"We're having company within the hour," Harry explained, as he grabbed a burgundy silk tie, which had a pattern of little golden fleur-de-lis over it. "It's the feckin Minister for Magic!"

"WHAT?" Dudley shouted, causing him to withdraw his right hand from under the duvet, which was sopping wet with some sort of oil, Harry noticed. Of course, Harry couldn't help but let out a loud snort at this.

"Put some decent clothes on," Harry said, as he was leaving the room, "and be downstairs by twenty after nine."

Harry came down the stairs in a quick walk, taking two steps at a time, which caused Vernon to bellow out, "Quit making so much noise, boy!"

Harry ignored him, as he just finished tying his tie when he entered the sitting room. Here, he handed Petunia the letter.

Petunia quickly read it, looked at the clock, and then, over at Vernon, where her cheeks blew up like a puffer fish.

When Harry noticed Vernon, he was sitting in his recliner, in a pair of green-striped pajamas, with his hairy belly partly peeking out from underneath the top, which had food and tea stains down the front.

"Vernon!" Petunia scolded, "UP, NOW!"

"Pet?" Vernon questioned.

"Company's coming within the next fifteen minutes. It's the bloody Minister for Magic, and he'll have officials with him, I'm sure. Get changed, quick!"

"I'll not have those BLOODY FR..."

"I said, NOW, VERNON!" Petunia bellowed, cutting him off. Harry didn't know that she had it in her.

Vernon's eyes bulged out at this, but he stood as quickly as possible, which took him three goes, before he waddled out of the room for the stairs, huffing and puffing. Apoplexy or a coronary was coming for Vernon, soon, Harry thought.

Petunia and Harry went to straighten the sitting room and began making tea and setting up a tea service in her best "Royal Doulton" china. After all, Hyacinth Bucket said it was the best on the telly.

Harry was looking out of the sitting room window and watching the carriage clock by the telly. Exactly, at 9:30 AM, Harry heard something in the distance. "Pop, pop-pop, pop, pop."

"Bloody Polkiss letting off fireworks on a Sunday," Vernon grumbled, but then he noticed Harry draw his wand from his sleeve. "Put that ruddy stick-thingy away, boy, now!"

Harry ignored him, as Petunia stood, and joined her nephew by the window. At least Vernon had put on some slacks, a white shirt, a bow tie, and a dinner jacket. Dudley, though, had dressed in his Smeltings uniform, and Harry had to hold in his chortle.

Within the next minute, the two noticed a group of five who were leisurely strolling up the middle of the street. He knew one of the two in the lead, who was Nymphadora Tonks, and, here, Harry had to cringe. She was wearing black leather pants and a matching jacket, with a bright violet tee shirt underneath, with some rock band's logo on it, and her hair was a bright pink. The other fellow, Harry didn't know, but he supposed he was another auror. At least he was dressed in a brown three-piece twill suit.

Behind the two aurors must be the new minister, Harry thought, as he favored the man in the Prophet's photo. He looked like an old lion, and there were streaks of grey in his mane of tawny hair and in his bushy eyebrows. He had keen watching eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles, and he walked with a certain rangy, loping grace, even though he had a slight limp, and he carried a cane, though he wasn't using it. There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness about him, Harry thought.

One of the two behind him, made Harry cringe, again, as it was feckin Percy Weasley, for Merlin's sake, and he was dressed in a green suit. He also looked to be carrying a briefcase.

The other man, though, Harry had no idea who he was. He was tall, with graying black hair, and he wore a black wool traveling cloak over a fine black wool suit. He guessed that he would be introduced in a moment.

"That's them," Harry stated, and he made for the hall to open the door, with Petunia following after him. However, before Petunia walked into the hall, she hissed at Vernon.

"You WILL respect these people, or they could cause us a LOT of trouble. Do you hear me?"

Vernon started to argue, but he cowered at her glare and slumped back in his recliner. Dudley, Harry thought, looked both constipated and confunded.

Just as Harry made it to the door, there were three loud knocks, so he quickly opened it.

When the door swung open, and against the stop on the hall's wall to his right, Tonks gave him a quick wink and strolled inside. However, before she could make it another step, Harry lowly whispered: "Dumbledore not know?" She stopped dead in her tracks, causing the other auror to almost plow into her, while she gave Harry a wide-eyed look. She had forgotten to tell him.

After Tonks walked to the end of the hall, where Petunia was glaring at her choice of dress, the other auror stepped inside, and held his hand out to Harry, who took it.

"I'm Auror Savage, Mr. Potter, and I'm glad to make your acquaintance. Allow me to introduce you to our new Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour."

"Mr. Potter," Rufus said in a gruff voice, as he shook Harry's hand with a firm grip, "it's good to meet you. Behind me is Percy, er, Weekly, I believe, and Gareth Greengrass from the DOM."

"Yes, I've met Percy," Harry deadpanned but shook the young man's hand anyway, who looked as if he had swallowed a large prune.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Greengrass," Harry said, as he shook the remaining gentleman's hand. "I know of two Greengrasses at school. Any relation?"

"Ah, Mr. Potter, so good to finally meet you, and yes, young Daphne and Astoria are my nieces. Proud Slytherins, the both of them."

Harry noticed the dark circles under Gareth's eyes. The man looked as if he hadn't slept in a fortnight.

"Everyone," Harry said, "let me introduce you to my aunt, Petunia Dursley."

Here, Scrimgeour, Greengrass, and Savage bowed, and gave an air kiss to Petunia's hand, making her blush, but Tonks and Percy only shook it.

"Everyone, follow me into the sitting room," Petunia said, "and Harry and I will serve the tea. My son and husband are already waiting inside."

Harry and Petunia had rearranged the sitting room, somewhat, for more room, and they were both glad that they did. They removed the small sideboard across from the fireplace and brought in two dining chairs from the dining room. In one of them sat Dudley.

Vernon was sitting in his recliner, leaving the other open for Petunia, and the other dining chair was for Harry. Scrimgeour, Greengrass, and Percy would have the sofa. However, there wasn't enough room for Tonks and Savage.

Once Harry noticed this, he said, "Unless someone would like to cast a space expansion charm, I'm afraid there isn't enough room for Nymphadora," whose hair quickly changed from its bright pink to a deep scarlet red at the blink of an eye, along with a light blush, surprising the Dursleys, which caused Harry to give her a huge grin full of teeth, "and Auror Savage."

"You seem to know Auror Tonks, Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour stated, as he tugged up on his slacks before taking his seat at the end of the sofa.

"Oh, er, well yes, I do, Minister," Harry admitted. "I've known her since she, Auror Savage, and Auror Dawlish were stationed at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Of course, she was also my godfather's cousin, you see."

"Ah, yes," Scrimgeour replied, "Andromeda was a Black, wasn't she, and a sister to Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange."

This, of course, made both Harry and Tonks scowl. "We don't claim either of them, Minister," Tonks said. "Harry, Auror Savage, and I will sit in the dining room, if that is okay, while the minister conducts his business with you."

With that, Tonks swept past Harry, but not before patting him on the shoulder, and whispering under her breath, "Payback's a bitch, Harry." Harry cringed.

Finally, Harry and Petunia went about the task of making everyone a cup of tea, to their liking, before taking their seats.

When Harry took his seat, and after he took his first sip of tea, he placed both hands on his knees, and shrewdly looked over at the minister.

"Now, Minister Scrimgeour," Harry said, "what brings you here to visit an ordinary wizard such as me?"

Scrimgeour studied Harry for a few seconds and held up his hand when Percy looked to be on the verge of a holier-than-thou outburst before he gave out a gravelly chortle.

"I like you, Mr. Potter! You're not like your father at all," the minister opined. "No, you're much more like your grandfather, Fleamont, a very shrewd and cunning man. Of course, your namesake, Henry, your great-grandfather, was the same, and I am lucky enough to have met the man as a boy. A great MP he was... , a great politician."

Here, Percy looked as if he had swallowed a lemon before Dudley, surprisingly enough, spoke up.

"Henry," Dudley questioned; "how does that equal Harry?"

"Henry Potter, young Mr. Dursley," Scrimgeour explained," who sat on our Wizengamot, and whose seat is still empty, by the way," giving Harry a shrewd look, "was called Harry. It was his nickname and his preferred moniker. He served in our government during the Great War."

At Dudley's contemplative nod, Petunia's surprised look, and Vernon's constipated one, the minister continued.

"No, I have come, today, Mr. Potter, over several pieces of, shall I say, tricky business. First, I'll start with the reading of your godfather's pardon, but before that, I'll need to explain a few things.

"Before Amelia was murdered, she sat out to have your godfather exonerated, and Cornelius readily agreed. He signed the pardon and added a substantial amount of gold into Sirius' vault for what happened over recompense. Twelve years of one's life requires that to be rectified."

Here, Harry snorted and gave out a loud chortle.

"Yes, I'm sure he did, and all to buy my favor!"

Percy looked like he was about to explode, with his face becoming a puce color, but the minister quietly observed Harry.

"Yes, well, Mr. Webley," Scrimgeour said, making Percy even more aggravated, "hand me Mr. Black's pardon."

Percy scowled, but quickly opened the briefcase now sitting on the cocktail table, and quickly handed the tied scroll to the minister.

"Mr. Potter," The minister solemnly said, "your godfather's pardon." Here, he reached out his arm toward Harry, while lightly holding the parchment in his right hand.

Harry stood, accepted the scroll, gave a short bow to hide the tears trying to build in his eyes, and he took his seat, before saying, in a rough voice, "Thank you, Minister, it means a lot."

"Next, Mr. Potter is your godfather's Will. Mr. Westly, if you will, please hand me that document."

Percy scowled, yet again, but quickly did as he was told.

"Before we go into reading his Will, Mr. Potter," the minister stated, "we have found ourselves involved in a rather sticky legal situation with this."

"What... , why?" Harry asked.

"Well," Scrimgeour said while scratching his head, "he made you his executor, and you are still underage. You will not become of age until your seventeenth birthday. Within it, he not only leaves you everything, but also a sum of ten thousand galleons to Andromeda and Theodore Tonks. This could tie up everything until you turn seventeen, and then, there's a wipeout provision, which, I'm sure, that you wouldn't care to see occur. That would leave everything to every remaining Black relation, if you suddenly died, including those such as the Malfoys and Lestranges."

"WHAT!" Harry roared.

"Something tells me, Mr. Potter, that Sirius didn't read the fine print in his will very well," Scrimgeour explained.

"Oh, for fek's sake," Harry growled, before he stood up, and began to walk in a small circle in the available floor space of the sitting room. "What a bloody feckin cockup! Gee, thanks, Sirius!"

"Harry James Potter," Petunia scolded, "sit down this instant!"

Harry looked as if he was about to say something else before he huffed, and took his seat, but not before seeing the greedy look in his uncle's eyes.

"Sorry, Minister. That's a lot to take in," Harry said.

"It's totally understandable why you're upset, Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour placated him. "The next problem is that we think that this Will is magically binding, and it contains no clause for a waiting period for it to be enforced. Thus, according to the Will," here, the minister unrolled it, and quickly read down through it while mumbling, "you inherited the house elf, Kreacher."

"If, in fact, this will is magically binding, you should be able to summon him, and command him at will."

"I don't want that bloody foul toe rag!" Harry exclaimed with a scowl.

"Be that as it may, Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour replied, "he holds the Black family secrets, things spoken about, mind you, which I'm sure you want to keep hidden, and we can use this as a test of the magic on this Will. It's to our advantage, you see. So, if you would, Mr. Potter, try to summon the elf."

Here, Harry let out a strangled sigh, and said loudly, "Kreacher!"

There was a loud pop, Petunia gave out a disgusted shriek, and Dudley pulled his fat legs up into his dining chair, as the old elf appeared in his dirty towel, while pulling at his ears, and cursing Harry at the top of his lungs.

"Filthy half-blood bes calling Kreacher an' thinks he can be commanding him. Kreacher won't do it; he won't serve a filthy half-blood brat!

"Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't!" croaked the house-elf, quite as loudly as Uncle Vernon was want to shout, stamping his long gnarled feet and still pulling his ears. "Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh, yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won't go to the Potter brat, Kreacher won't, won't, won't –"

"Oh, for fek's sake!" Harry exclaimed, and the Dursleys all scowled.

"As you can see, Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour stated loudly over Kreacher's continued croaks of 'won't, won't, won't,' "Kreacher is showing a harsh reluctance to pass into your ownership."

"I don't care," growled Harry, again, while looking with disgust at the writhing, stamping house-elf. "I don't want him."

"Won't, won't, won't, won't –"

"You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange or Narcissa Malfoy? Bearing in mind that he has lived with Sirius for the past year, and knows all his secrets?"

"Won't, won't, won't, won't –"

Harry contemplated Scrimgeour. He knew that Kreacher could not be permitted to go and live with Bellatrix or Narcissa, but the idea of owning him, of having responsibility for the creature that had betrayed Sirius, was repugnant to him.

"Give him an order, Mr. Potter," said Scrimgeour. "If he has truly passed into your ownership, then he will have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of something else."

"Won't, won't, won't, WON'T!"

Kreacher's voice had now risen to a scream. Harry could think of nothing to say, except, "Kreacher, shut the fek up!"

It looked for a moment as though Kreacher was going to choke or have a stroke. The old elf grabbed at his throat, his mouth still working furiously, and his eyes were bulging. After a few seconds of frantic gulping, he threw himself face forwards onto the floor (Aunt Petunia whimpered, and was worried about the spot it would leave on her Axminster rug) and beat the floor with his hands and feet, giving himself over to a violent, but entirely silent, tantrum. (Partially from Chap. 3, HBP)

"Well, that answers that question," Scrimgeour stated, "but it leaves us in quite the bit of a quandary."

"Why's that, Minister?" Harry questioned.

Here, however, Scrimgeour held up his hand. "Mr. Wetherby, please hand me the next document, and its duplicate, along with my seal."

Percy looked as if he was about to pop an artery, which made Mr. Greengrass smirk, Harry caught, but Percy retrieved the two documents from his briefcase, and laid them out on the cocktail table, side by side, and sat the silver seal down beside them, along with an inkwell, and quill.

Harry and the Dursleys watched the old minister read over the first one, before he signed it, and handed the document and quill to Percy. "Sign off as a witness, and then allow Mr. Greengrass to do the same."

Once everyone signed, Scrimgeour placed the seal's jaws over the lower corner of the document, and he squeezed the handle. Next, he lay it on the table, where, with a quick tap of his wand, it glowed, and vanished.

They signed the copy in the same way, but after the minister sealed it, he handed it to Harry. "This is your copy, Mr. Potter. Keep it safe."

Here, Harry read the document, and quickly looked up at the minister, before asking, "What does this mean, Minister?"

"You are now emancipated, Mr. Potter, and considered a man in our society. You are now, officially, a full wizard, and all our laws now apply to you."

"What about the trace?" Harry quickly asked his eyes about to fall out of his head.

"Gone - canceled," Scrimgeour stated, and Harry looked as if Christmas had just come early.

"Papa's got a brand new bag," Harry muttered, and he heard Tonks snort, while Mr. Greengrass smirked. Harry thought about doing a James Brown dance on the floor, and he had a huge toothy grin on his face, with his white teeth showing like a shark.

Vernon, though, paled at the thought of what this meant, and he gulped, though Petunia, for some reason that Vernon couldn't fathom, looked quite pleased. If he only knew what was rolling through her mind at the moment. It was, in fact, "Revenge can now come swiftly."

The minister, though, looked awfully satisfied with himself, as he sat back, and studied Harry.

"Now, Mr. Potter, if you would do something with your elf, we can continue with the reading of Sirius' will."

"Oh, yes, of course, Minister," Harry replied after coming out of his musing. "Kreacher, stand up at attention."

Kreacher leaped to his feet, straightened ramrod straight, and staggered, while still holding his throat, though he was glaring daggers at Harry.

"Kreacher, you will head to Hogwarts, and stay there until I call you. You will not mention any of this, to anyone, unless I tell you that you can. Once there, you will help Dobby and do as he asks. If the headmaster tries to corner you, you will disapparate away, and hide until he gives up. You will follow these orders until I give you new ones, so, now, go."

Kreacher scowled at Harry one final time, before he snapped his fingers, and disapparated. Petunia quickly looked at her Axminster with a scowl.

"Mr. Weaselby," Scrimgeour said, "if you would, please hand me Sirius Black's Will."

Harry wondered how long it would take before a fit of apoplexy hit Percy, but the young secretary handed the minister a scroll, which he unrolled, and began to read.

"Last Will And Testament of Sirius Orion Black."

"I, Sirius Orion Black, being of sound mind and body, presently of Islington, a district of London, England, hereby revoke all testamentary dispositions made by me and declare this to be my last Will.

"Prior Wills and Codicils"

"(1) I revoke all prior Wills and Codicils."

"(2) Marital Status"

"I am not married."

"(3) Children"

"I do not have any living blood children, only my godson, and heir, Harry James Potter."

"Executor"

"(4) The expression "my Executor" used throughout this Will includes either the singular or plural number, or the masculine or feminine gender as appropriate wherever the fact or context so requires. The term "executor" in this Will is synonymous with, and includes the term, "executrix" and "personal representative."

"Appointment"

"(5) I appoint Harry James Potter of Little Whinging, Surrey, as the sole Executor of this Will, but if Harry James Potter should predecease me, or should refuse or be unable to act or continue to act as my Executor, then I appoint Andromeda Cassiopia Tonks née Black of Hook, England, to be the sole Executrix of this Will in place of Harry James Potter."

Here, Scrimgeour quickly read through the "Powers Of My Executor" with a mumble, until he came to the "Disposition Of Estate." This seemed to make Vernon's eyes glow, Harry noticed, but the podger would never lay one finger on any of it.

"Disposition Of Estate"

"Specific Bequests"

"(7) To receive a specific bequest under this Will, a beneficiary must survive me. Any item that fails to pass to a beneficiary will return to my estate to be included in the residue of my estate. All property given under this Will is subject to any encumbrances or liens attached to the property. My specific bequests are as follows:

"I leave to Harry James Potter of Little Whinging, Surrey, England, if he shall survive me, for his own use absolutely, all properties both real and personal, all monies, all heirlooms, all furnishings, and one House Elf named Kreacher. I also bestow the title of heir of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, as well as any and all titles and entitlements due to him, which I once held.

"I leave to my dear cousin, Andromeda Cassiopia Tonks née Black, the sum of ten thousand galleons. Use it well."

The "Distribution Of Residue" and the "Wipeout Provision" were quickly muttered over, but the minister loudly read out the eleventh section.

"Individuals Omitted From Bequests"

"(11) If I have omitted to leave property in this Will to one or more of my heirs or relatives as named above, or others, or have provided them with zero shares of a bequest, the failure to do so is intentional."

"That was cold," Dudley muttered, and Harry smirked.

The "General Provisions" were skated through by the minister, until he came to the ending.

"Signature"

(14) I, Sirius Orion Black, the within named Testator, have to this my last Will contained on this page, set by my hand at the City of London, England, this 5th day of February 1996. I declare that this instrument is my last Will, that I am of legal age in this jurisdiction to make a Will, that I am under no constraint or undue influence, and that I sign this will freely and voluntarily."

Here, Minister Scrimgeour handed the Will to Harry, who lay it on the small table beside him. Harry noticed that there were four other documents with it, and he caught the words, "Deed Of Conveyance," on one of them.

"Congratulations, Lord Black," the minister said, making Percy tense up, along with the Dursleys. Tonks snorted, and Misters Greengrass and Savage smirked.

"You'll need to fetch the lord's ring from Gringotts, which will be in the Black family vault, and wear it. You will also need to pay your Wizengamot fees to take up your seat, which are seventy-five galleons per annum and have your robes fitted at Twillfit & Tattings.

"I would also like you to retake the Potter's seat, Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour stated. "Since you're the heir, and are now a full wizard of age, you will not owe any arrears, and your seat has lain vacant since Henry stepped down. This is our opportunity, Mr. Potter, to pass some much-needed legislation to stop what is coming. I am sure you can catch my drift?"

"Oh, yes, I catch on all right," Harry replied with a smirk. "However, I would like to request a private meeting, with just the two of us, to discuss things, and inside a SCIF."

Scrimgeour scowled at this, but asked, "What in Merlin's name, is a SCIF, Mr. Potter?"

"A SCIF, Minister, is a Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility, and it's a secure place where sensitive information can be viewed and discussed to prevent outside surveillance or spying. I would also like it if you could have a Pensieve available."

"Ah, I see," Scrimgeour remarked. "That would be the conference room beside my office. Tomorrow, be at my office at eight in the morning; no later."

Percy looked as if he was about to either explode or pass out.

"Now, we come to the reason why Mr. Greengrass is here. Gareth, you have the floor."

Here, Harry quickly turned to study the unspeakable, because he thought that the man had only come as one of the witnesses.

"Mr. Potter," Gareth sighed, "there is a final document, and it pertains to my deceased daughter, and now, to you." Here, the man removed a scroll from inside his jacket, and unrolled it, before he handed it to Harry. It was a betrothal contract, or, otherwise known as a pre-marriage contract.

Harry unrolled it, and took in the title: "Betrothal Contract." Then, he read the line below.

"We, the Houses of Black and Greengrass, the Heads Of Houses undersigned, agree to the bonding of our two families, via marriage, to the two youngest of our families in case the need arises of a necessity for line continuance... "

Harry quickly skimmed through the rest of it and saw that it was signed by both Arcturus Black III and Astor Greengrass at the bottom, and was witnessed by two other wizards.

Here, Harry nodded, re-rolled the scroll, and handed it back to Gareth.

"What does this have to do with me, Sir?" Harry asked.

Here, Gareth sighed, and wiped at his tired eyes, before looking back at Harry. "As you may be aware, Mr. Potter, my daughter, Alcmene, passed on a few days ago. She had been ill for some time... , with a blood disorder.

"The terms of the contract had been met with Alcmene and Sirius, but he was in Azkaban, which forbade the marriage, until at a time that he was cleared. Unfortunately, he wasn't until after his death, and my daughter passed on five days later."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Greengrass, truly," Harry said.

"The problem is, Mr. Potter, that this contract is magically binding, and it is now not force majure. I am now childless, thus, the heirship now falls to my younger brother's family, and to his eldest daughter, Daphne. You are also, now, Lord Black."

Petunia gaped, Vernon smirked, Dudley looked completely lost, Tonks snorted, yet, again, Savage hung his head, Percy looked as if he was trying to force out a huge turd, and the minister sat with a grim look upon his face. Harry took them all in, and then it hit him about what this meant.

"DO WHAT, NOW?" Harry yelled.

Gareth sighed and shook his head. "I'm truly sorry, Mr. Potter, but I've had my solicitor look this over, and it is, most assuredly, unbreakable.

"By Sirius making you his heir, you became part of this contract, unknowingly, I know, and I understand."

"But I've just started seeing someone - Ginny Weasley!"

Finally, Percy lost it. "WHAT!"

"Sit down, Westerby," Scrimgeour ordered, making Percy clamp his mouth shut, but he was still glaring daggers at Harry, which made Harry snort, and give a chortle. Greater men had fallen before Harry, and he wasn't worried about him being a threat.

"There's a provision in one of the sections, which allows you a mistress, which, I'm sure you noticed," Gareth said, with a cringe.

"I'm not like that," Harry scowled," and I won't do that! No, I value marriage as something sacred, as well as the vows. I will have no kept woman!"

This actually made Gareth sigh in relief.

"I suggest that you meet with my brother, Cyrus, Mr. Potter," Gareth said, "as soon as possible, because now, since you're legally a wizard, you have one year before the contract acts against you. I'm deeply sorry that you were dragged into this, son, I truly am."

"Well," Minister Scrimgeour said, "our time, here, today, is at an end, Mr. Potter." As the minister started to stand, he added, "Do not forget our appointment in the morning."

Petunia stood to escort everyone out, while Harry sat in the wooden dining chair, staring ahead at nothing, like a pole-axed steer, and ready for the slaughter.

A/N: I thought I would write one more chapter for, a primer before I finished the next chapter of Intrigue II.