Jul 31

When the

Roses Bloom

Again -

Contractual

Dispute He watched the steady rising and falling of her chest, his

own filled with warmth despite the manner in which he had

woken. Still, in the peace of his own home, sleep eluded

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him, the quiet only serving to leave him in a state of

alertness where rest was not possible.

For the past week since he had returned home with

Minerva and Rosa, they had been inundated with visitors,

the only people not doing so thus far being Nicholas and

Perenelle, who would be visiting in the coming days.

Tiberius had come along with his wife, as had Frank and

Augusta.

Poppy had been four times by Harry's last count, and not a

day passed that Robert and Isobel hadn't arrived at the

house.

The man was besotted with his granddaughter, almost on

the brink of tears whenever he laid eyes on her.

Harry understood that feeling. He found it hard to believe

that he had a daughter at all until he looked upon her, the

visage staring back at him almost identical to the pictures

he had seen of Lily Potter.

It wasn't this, however, that elicited such a strong feeling of

uninhibited love within him, but the knowledge that Rosa

was the coming together of him and Minerva.

He turned to look at the woman who had brought the babe

into the world as she slept peacefully, still recovering from

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her ordeal, and that same love spread throughout him;

doubtless and pure as it was.

This was what he was fighting for, what awaited him when

the war was over.

Still, he knew he must go back.

As tempting as it was to just shut the world outside away

and live in ignorant bliss, Harry could not do that.

He could not abandon his men, not when they too had

fought as hard as he, had bled with him, some even giving

their lives.

No, he couldn't and wouldn't even consider such a thing.

"Struggling to sleep again?" Minerva whispered, shifting to

wrap her arms around his neck.

"I don't think I will ever sleep peacefully," he murmured.

"Especially when I have such the perfect distraction," he

added, nodding towards the sleeping babe.

"She is perfect," Minerva agreed, "as quiet as you are."

"Let's just hope she doesn't have the same knack for landing

herself in trouble as me," Harry snorted.

Minerva smiled against his neck.

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"She might be just like me," she pointed out.

"I bloody hope so," Harry huffed gently.

They fell silent for several moments, both simply watching

their daughter.

"You left early yesterday morning," Minerva broke the

silence.

Harry nodded.

"I needed to meet with my solicitor to make some

adjustments to my will. If anything happens to me, you and

Rosa will be taken care of."

Minerva shook her head.

"I would rather you came home, Harry."

Harry swallowed deeply.

"So would I," he agreed, "but it is best to leave no doubts if

the worst was to happen."

Minerva released a deep breath, her grip tightening around

him possessively.

She said nothing further on the matter, but Harry felt a tear

roll down his shoulder.

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"I have to go back."

"When?" Minerva choked.

"I have arranged with Petr to stay another two weeks to

make sure you're healed," he explained.

Minerva nodded her understanding.

"I love you," he blurted, taking her by the hand. "Both of

you."

It took a moment for the realisation to settle in for her,

unsure if the words had truly been spoken.

When she had been silent for what she believed to be too

long, Minerva slid into Harry's lap.

"I love you," she said sincerely, her heart welling with what

it was she felt for the man.

They had been little more than children when they had met

some six years prior, had grown together to the people they

were now, the journey they had shared having been full of

both heartache and utter joy in abundance.

Now, it felt somehow complete, that everything they had

endured, the triumphs and losses had led them here, and

though there were things Minerva wished had never come

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to pass, if it led her to this moment, she would not change a

single thing.

(Break)

Arcturus read and re-read the missive that had been

forwarded to him by Lord Parkinson, unable to believe

what it was he had been sent. Either Lord Selwyn was had

taken complete leave of his senses or the man had grown

tired of life.

The Lord Black was silently fuming, his teeth gritted and

his hands trembling in rage.

What was Selwyn playing at.

"I'll murder that bastard," he growled as he took his leave of

his room to seek out Charlus.

Dorea would marry one of Selwyn's impotent offspring over

his dead body, but it would not be him that would die.

That honour would be reserved for Selwyn, and his entire

family if necessary to keep Dorea out of their clutches.

He stomped his way through the streets of Bucharest, his

anger on becoming more palpable the more he pondered

just what Selwyn had done.

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The late Lord Black had signed the contract, but he had

not been in his right mind for years.

Not only had Selwyn taken advantage of his father, but he

now had the audacity to believe that the transgression

would go unpunished, that he would truly emerge from this

utter foolishness with his life and house intact.

No, Arcturus would not allow that, even if the man saw the

error of his ways before this farce of a contract could be

further acted upon.

It was not only the manipulation of his father that

infuriated Arcturus, but the unmitigated gall for the man to

activate the contract in the first place.

Lord Selwyn would suffer the wrath of the Lord Black, and

undoubtedly Charlus who Arcturus spotted leaving his own

rooms.

"That look doesn't bode well for someone," the Potter lord

snorted.

"Read it," Arcturus urged, handing the man the letter and

copy of the contract he'd received.

Charlus's expression darkened, his nostrils flaring.

In all the years that Arcturus had known him, he'd never

truly seen Charlus lose his composure, not like he did in

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this moment.

Still, he read the contract in its entirety before chuckling,

though it was not one of amusement.

"He is a stupid bastard," he declared, indicating a small

section of text under the 'terms' heading.

Arcturus's own eyes lit up as he read it too, a sinister grin

tugging at his lips.

"He couldn't have read this and activated the contract, not

unless he is a halfwit."

"This is Selwyn we are discussing," Charlus pointed out.

Arcturus conceded the point with a nod.

"Well, I suppose the only thing to decide is if we are going

to pay him off, or fight," he sighed dramatically.

"I choose option two," Charlus declared. "I'll tear his

fucking throat out."

Arcturus raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"What if I decide I want to do it?"

Charlus shook his head.

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"You have a wife and a child on the way. Let me handle this

one."

Arcturus admired the man's spirit, but he didn't want to

shirk his responsibility.

"I insist," Charlus added with a smile.

Even to Arcturus, it was an unsettling sight, but if Charlus

was so readily willing to fight for his sister's hand, who was

he to stand in his way?

It mattered not who dealt with Selwyn regarding the

contract.

Arcturus would ensure he carved his own pound of flesh

from the man, one way or the other.

"He is all yours, for the time being," he replied. "I'll send

our reply to Parkinson. I'm sure he will not neglect to tell as

many others as he can."

(Break)

"That should just about do it," Gilbert declared as he

finished attaching the final door to a cupboard in the

kitchen.

"It looks wonderful," Sorina praised gratefully.

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Gilbert smiled as he admired his own work.

He never knew he had quite the proclivity towards home

improvements, and the satisfaction from having completed

the work was incomparable to almost anything else he'd

ever done.

The house Sorina had found had not been in the best

condition upon purchase, but Gilbert had been here from

the very start, ensuring that it was liveable for the woman

and her daughter.

He had haggled the price down, and even helped move in

what meagre possessions they had left.

Ever since, he had spent the past weeks here, going from

room to room to carry out repairs and install new

furnishings where needed.

The house itself was only a short walk from the magical

district, and were he not here helping the woman, he would

have simply been waiting with the other men for

instructions on what they would be doing next.

They wouldn't remain in Romania, after all.

Helping Sorina had given him a sense of purpose, but now

the work was done.

There was nothing else that required his attention.

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"I can't promise my work will last forever," he chuckled,

"but it should see you through for now."

"Nonsense," Sorina said dismissively. "Your workmanship is

very good."

Gilbert blushed at the praise, something that didn't come to

him often.

"Anyway, you have a home now and that's what matters," he

replied with a smile. "If there is anything else you need, you

know where to find me for the time being."

"For the time being?" Sorina asked with a frown.

Gilbert nodded.

"I don't think we will stay much longer," he sighed. "When

Harry is back, he will push to take Bulgaria, and then we

will likely head west," he added with a shrug.

"But you are not leaving yet, no?"

"He'll be back in a couple of weeks."

Sorina raised an eyebrow at him.

"Then why are speaking as though you are saying goodbye

to me?" she asked.

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"Everything is finished," Gilbert pointed out, gesturing

around the room.

Sorina shook her head.

"Then the very least I can do is make you dinner, for

everything you have done, but it is late now," she sighed

dramatically. "I suppose that means you must come back

tomorrow."

Gilbert was confused, but he did not miss the smirk that

tugged at her lips.

He released a deep breath.

"I'm not a good man to have around," he murmured sadly.

"I have spent most of my adult life in one prison or other.

I've been a career criminal for as long as I can remember."

"But you are here fighting in a war for the freedom of

others," Sorina returned.

"I didn't volunteer for it, not at first."

"At first?"

Gilbert nodded.

"I was given a choice of prison for eighteen months or

coming to fight on the continent. I'm tired of prison, so I

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chose this. I received a letter from the British Ministry

three months ago informing me that my penance had been

paid and that I could return home."

"But you didn't?"

"I didn't," Gilbert snorted. "I spend most of my days

terrified that I'm going to die out here, but I cannot leave.

The men here have become my brothers."

Sorina rolled her eyes at him.

"And you cannot see that you are a good man?" she

questioned irritably. "Would a rotten one have stayed?"

Gilbert shrugged.

"Why did you? Other than the others you fight with, for

what is it you fight?"

Gilbert snorted as he pondered the question.

"The people that are suffering," he answered honestly. "I see

too many people like you and Iulia that have had their lives

torn apart by Grindelwald."

"That makes you a good man, Derek," Sorina said softly.

"Maybe," Gilbert murmured.

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They fell silent for a moment and Sorina shot him a teasing

grin.

"And how many people like me have you met, Derek?"

"None," Gilbert answered immediately.

Sorina's teasing expression softened.

"I am grateful for everything you have done," she said

sincerely, "even more so for what you have done for Iulia. In

the two years since her father was killed, I have not been

able to make her smile. Neither of us have had much to

smile about. Iulia smiles when you are around, Derek, and

so do I. Don't you think it should be me who decides if you

are a good man?"

Gilbert did not even put a half-hearted attempt into

arguing with the woman. He didn't want to, nor did he

believe he would win.

Sorina was as stubborn as anyone he had ever met, and he

conceded the point she had made with a nod.

"What time should I be here tomorrow?" he asked with

sigh, unable to prevent the smile that formed.

(Break)

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Dorea's heart sunk as she read the missive she'd received

from her brother containing the contract her father had

signed with Lord Selwyn. Despite Arcturus's assurances

that he and Charlus were handling the situation, it felt as

though her world was crashing down around her.

Why would her father sign such an agreement with the

man?

He had never spoken highly of Lord Selwyn, nor any other

that carried the name.

It made no sense to Dorea, and the part of the contract that

Arcturus had highlighted for her benefit did little to

assuage her concerns.

Her brother wouldn't even dream of paying Lord Selwyn

off.

No, he would without doubt choose the second option, and

though she didn't doubt his ability to emerge victorious

from any duel, Selwyn could prove to be cunning or simply

cheat.

Judging by his behaviour in having her father sign the

contract in his vulnerable state, she would put nothing past

him.

Worry not, myself and Charlus will deal with the matter.

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They had been the final words written by her brother's

hand, and as much faith as she had in them both, Dorea

would not relax until to contract had been voided.

She sunk into a chair by the fire.

Just when, for the first time in many years, things seemed to

be coming together favourably, something else had come

along to intrude upon her happiness.

If she saw Selwyn before, or even after the matter had been

resolved, Dorea could not promise herself that she would

keep her temper in check.

How dare he attempt such a thing?

She was in no doubt that it had been done purposely when

he had learned of the contract between herself and Charlus,

a thought that only provoked her anger further.

(Break)

"Oh, she is so beautiful," Perenelle cooed, rocking Rosa in

her arms. "You must be so proud."

"We are." Minerva replied with a smile. "She's wonderful."

"She reminds me a little of our Elaine," Perenelle mused

aloud. "She was a redhead too."

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"You had children?" Harry asked.

"Four," Nicholas answered fondly. "The last of them passed

on some four centuries ago. If it weren't for the vivid

memories that we revisit often, I would not remember what

they looked like."

"They didn't want to live off the elixir?"

The alchemist shook his head.

"Elaine did for some time, but she missed her husband

dearly after he died," he explained. "Our two sons and other

daughter did not wish to follow in our footsteps."

Harry released a deep breath.

"Sorry, Nic."

The Frenchman waved him off.

"It was all so long ago now," he sighed. "Living forever isn't

for everyone. Perhaps it isn't really for anyone," he added

with a frown.

"Look, she's smiling," Perenelle giggled.

"No, she's not smiling," Minerva pointed out as she took

the babe from the woman. "That just means that…"

Perenelle wrinkled her nose.

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"You never forget the smell," Nicholas chuckled amusedly.

"I'll take her," Harry offered, relieving Minerva of their

soiled daughter.

"I will come with you," Nicholas declared. "There are

things we must discuss."

Harry nodded and led the man from the parlour, up the

stairs and towards the nursery.

"You've created a wonderful home, Harry."

Harry shook his head.

"This is all Minerva's work. I've barely been here."

Nicholas nodded his understanding.

"But you will be," he offered encouragingly.

"I will be," Harry agreed.

They spoke little whilst Harry attended to Rosa, Nicholas

watching amusedly as he fumbled through the process of

changing her nappy and Harry scowling at the man.

It was all still so new to him, but he was getting better.

At least now he was able to do so without putting his hands

in anything unpleasant.

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"There, that's better," he declared, vanishing the dirty

garment, and cradling his daughter.

"Fatherhood suits you," Nicholas chuckled. "When will you

be going back?"

Harry released a deep breath.

"Too soon as far as I'm concerned."

Nicholas gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I don't suppose my news will bring you much joy then," he

replied irritably. "My investigation into who this Weber is

has led to nothing. According to some of my contacts who

have heard of him, the man is a ghost, whispered about but

never seen."

"I figured as much," Harry snorted. "We have managed to

trace his finances to the Swiss branch of Gringotts and have

someone watching it, but until he shows up, we can only

wait and hope he does."

"A slippery man indeed," Nicholas grumbled. "I don't

believe Albus had better luck?"

Harry shook his head.

"Only rumours and speculation," Harry explained. "For

now, my attention is in Bulgaria. It's Grindelwald's final

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stronghold in the east and we should be able to take it soon.

I have someone on the inside keeping me updated to

developments there."

"And then you will circle back west?"

"That is the plan, but we both know that they can change."

Nicholas nodded and placed a comforting hand on his

shoulder.

"Have faith, Harry," he urged. "Now, I think we should get

this little one back to Perenelle. She does love babies, and I

suspect little Rosa has already wormed her way into my

wife's heart, just as you did."

Harry chuckled as they left the nursery.

"I think I've already moved down the list of Perenelle's

favourite people. It took less than a minute in this one's

company for that."

Nicholas laughed heartily as he held out his arms, his

patience to get a better look at the babe having finally worn

out.

"Being a father is the most special feeling," he murmured.

"It changes you in many ways."

"How did it change you?" Harry asked curiously.

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"It made me realise that despite being immortal, time is

precious. For me, a decade can vanish in the blink of an eye,

and in only a handful of them, my children had grown and

passed on. A harsh lesson, but one I have not forgotten."

It was not often that Nicholas succumbed to bouts of

sadness, but he felt it now, though the sight of Harry's

daughter in his arms brought back those long-forgotten

paternal feelings.

He felt them for Harry, and for Albus also, but neither had

been babes when he had met them.

In a sense, Rosa was his grandchild, and for the first time in

several centuries, he felt the warmth that only a child one

held dear could bring.

(Break)

The response he had been dreading had come much quicker

than anticipated, and Lord Selwyn could not help but

believe that his plan had already backfired quite

spectacularly.

He had thought that Gellert would have been pleased with

his ingenuity, proud that he had taken the initiative, but the

man had been dismissive, and even irritated by his actions.

So much for loyalty.

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Lord Selwyn had been a loyal man, keeping the Dark Lord

abreast of all the happenings within the Wizengamot, and

any other developments he felt were poignant, but it

appeared that his efforts were not as greatly received as they

should be, that his efforts warranted no loyalty in return.

Black had, seemingly without hesitation, chosen the option

to fight, and now the Lord Selwyn needed to find himself a

champion.

He certainly would not be the one to stand before either the

notorious lord or Potter for that matter.

Lord Selwyn had no intention of dying.

Why couldn't Black just accept the marriage contract, or

attempt to buy his way out of it?

No, the man would appear to be weak if he had opted for

the latter, something he could ill-afford.

Still, there was one beacon of hope to cling to, and that was

what brought Lord Selwyn to Bulgaria, into the type of

establishment he would never deign to visit back home.

It was here that he spotted the man he sought, seated at a

table with a cigar hanging from his mouth and a hand of

cards as he gambled.

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He seemed to pay no mind to the scantily clad women

dancing for the amusement of the men, something Lord

Selwyn was pleased with.

It would not do for the man to be distracted.

"Gaulitier," he greeted the man as he took an empty seat

next to him.

The large German merely grunted in response, shooting

Selwyn a look of irritation.

"Fuck off," he growled.

Selwyn swallowed deeply, but he wouldn't be deterred.

"I have something to discuss with you, something I think

you would be quite interested in."

Gaulitier said nothing as he laid his cards, slamming his fist

on the table in anger when one of his companions produced

a better hand.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

Selwyn swallowed deeply.

"A word, in private."

Gaulitier's nostrils flared.

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"Well, there's no point sticking around here," he grumbled,

draining a glass of whiskey before throwing it at one of the

dancing women who screamed.

Gaulitier laughed as he slapped Selwyn on the back.

"Come on then, I could do with the fresh air."

Selwyn relaxed considerably as Hans led the way out of the

bar and into the streets.

"Well, you didn't come here to drink or find a whore," the

German growled.

"I didn't," Selwyn agreed. "I came to make a proposition."

Hans looked at him interestedly and gestured for him to

continue.

"I have found myself in a spot of bother with the Blacks,

and likely the Potters," Selwyn explained. "I find myself in

need of a champion to represent me in a duel against one of

them."

Gaulitier's eyes lit up.

"Black you say?"

"Or Potter."

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Hans chuckled, though he said nothing for a few moments

and Selwyn could almost see his mind working.

"What's in it for me?"

"What would you like?"

Hans hummed whilst he scratched his chin.

"I choose the venue, and you will pay me one hundred

galleons."

"Done," Selwyn agreed immediately offering his hand.

"Oh, this will be fun," Hans declared as he accepted the

proffered limb, his eyes alight with excitement. "Not a word

to Gellert," he added firmly.

Selwyn smiled.

"I was going to suggest the same thing," he replied. "He

will not like that I came to you."

Hans shook his head.

"He will not," he agreed, "but this war has become very

boring. It could certainly use some livening up. Schedule it

for a couple of weeks' time. I will be ready then," he added

as he walked back towards the bar.

"What about the venue?" Selwyn questioned.

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Hans paused, offering what many would deem to be a

sickening smile.

"On the border between here and Romania, of course. Why

travel any further than necessary? We will have all the

witnesses we could ever want. Who knows, maybe it will

prove to be exactly what this war needs?"

With that, Gaulitier was gone, and Selwyn swallowed

deeply, the final words of the man unsettling him.

Hans was planning something, and Lord Selwyn, though

initially relieved, now questioned if he had done the right

thing in approaching him.

Still, it was too late now, and all the man could do was hope

that the situation was resolved favourably.

Neither Black nor Potter would give him a moment's peace,

and the thought of the two Lords hounding him for the

remainder of his days was a most unwelcome one.

The thought alone sent quite the shiver down his spine.

(Break)

Eleanor pondered what she had heard whilst clinging to

Gaulitier, a particularly dangerous place to be, but one that

had seemingly paid dividends, though she was missing

some vital information.

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Gaulitier had agreed to duel either Black or Potter on

behalf of Selwyn and had chosen the border between

Bulgaria and Romania to do so.

She couldn't be certain why, but him doing so could not be

coincidental.

Often, Gaulitier could be heard bemoaning that the war

had become stale, that it needed some zest injected into it,

but what was he planning?

Something was not right, and it made the woman feel

uneasy.

Anything involving the German elicited that feeling and

hearing him so pensive and then gleeful during his

conversation with Selwyn was unsettling.

No, she could not simply sit on this information.

If it involved Charlus Potter in any way, Harry would want

to know about it, and though Eleanor did not wish to

disturb him whilst he was home with his new-born

daughter, this seemed to be of the utmost importance.

Scuttling her way out of the bar, she took refuge behind

some discarded kegs before transforming and apparating

home to send her missive.

When she was done, she poured herself a glass of wine.

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The revelation that Harry was expecting a baby had been

unexpected, and when she had learned of it, Eleanor had

been a little envious, she still was if she was being honest

with herself, but ultimately, she was happy for Harry.

Perhaps in another life something more than friendship

would have formed between them, but it was not meant to

be this time around.

Still, Eleanor was happy to have met him, despite the

turbulent life she had endured since.

In truth, he brought her the excitement she had always

sought, and though there had been times she had been

terrified and wanted nothing more than to return home, she

wouldn't change a thing.

For once, she was getting the adventure she wanted whilst

doing something worthwhile.

Eleanor had Harry to thank for that, and she knew he

appreciated her efforts, though it was unlikely he would feel

the same about Gaulitier and whatever his latest ploy may

be.

(Break)

Once more Tom found himself residing in the orphanage

for the summer months though he did not find himself

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within the walls often. During the day, he would leave,

wandering the streets of London, reading wherever he

could find a quiet spot to do so, and doing his utmost to

ignore the devastation the German bombs had wrought.

Much to his relief, none had been dropped for some time,

but the destruction served as a reminder that if they did, he

was vulnerable.

Even the great Harry Evans had almost been killed by

muggle artillery. That had been well-documented.

No, Tom was not Harry Evans, he would never be killed in

such a crude manner.

Still, he couldn't ignore the vulnerability he felt, how mortal

danger could befall him here, and how defenceless he was

against such things.

The thought made him shudder, and as much as he tried to

reassure himself that it would not happen, he could not

shake the feeling.

He despised it, more than he despised Dumbledore and

even Evans.

It plagued him, ever-present on the edge of his

consciousness, and it instilled a sense of paranoia within the

teen.

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How could he combat such a thing? How could he ensure

that were his body to be destroyed, he could somehow live

on?

The human vessel was weak, too fallible for Tom's liking,

too prone to injury and disease.

There were steps that could be taken to strengthen it, but

his body would one day fail him.

Even with all the incredible magic at his disposal, it was

inevitable, the ravages of time and wear an insurmountable

foe.

Creating a Philosopher's Stone would solve the issue of

illness and natural deterioration, but he could still be killed

in a duel, or even by being hit by a bus were he to be so

careless.

No, such a thing would be too time consuming to create for

himself.

Tom did not wish to spend decades replicating the feat of

Nicholas Flamel. He needed a more accessible option, one

that made the human body but a commodity to his

existence.

It was something he would need to ponder, though he

vaguely remembered reading something in one of the

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library books he had borrowed that may be worth exploring.

He had merely glanced at the text in question in passing,

but he was certain it had mentioned something about the

soul being the essence of life and how it could be used to

preserve it even if the body failed.

Horcruxes?

He believed that was the term he had come across, but he

would need to find the book when he returned to

Hogwarts.

Tom shook his head as he reached Charing Cross and made

his way through The Leaky Cauldron, breathing a sigh of

relief as he entered the wizarding world once more.

Here, he did not feel so vulnerable, and it was with good

reason he had visited.

With his homework already completed and his reading

material almost exhausted, he needed to find something to

occupy his time for the rest of the summer.

Without preamble, he turned into Knockturn Alley,

ignoring the various unsavoury characters that dwelled here

in favour of entering his favourite shop.

There was always something of interest in Borgin and

Burke's, the latter of the named owners having taken quite

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the shine to him during his last visit when Tom had

purchased the diary.

"Mr Burke!" he greeted the man enthusiastically.

The man smiled warmly.

"Young Tom," he replied. "To what do I owe the pleasure?

Perhaps you have your eye on another of our trinkets?"

"If only I could afford such luxuries," Tom sighed. "I was

hoping that you may have some odd jobs for me to do over

the summer?"

His own expression sickened him.

Tom was not one to pander to others or simper, but Burke

relished it, so Tom played along.

The man hummed thoughtfully.

"Have you finished all of your schoolwork?" he asked

pointedly.

"I have," Tom assured him. "I've even begun reading for

next year."

Burke nodded approvingly.

Tom was considerably beyond his fifth-year material, but he

wasn't going to tell Burke that. He needed to play the part

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of the needy, clueless, but bright orphan.

"Well, our storeroom could use organising," Burke mused

aloud. "Neither of us have kept up with that for some

years."

"How is Mr Borgin?" Tom asked interestedly.

"As pleasant as ever," Burke snorted.

Tom did not like the other owner, and the feeling was

evidently mutual. When he had been last, the man had

made some rather scathing remarks about Tom's heritage

when he'd asked him to inscribe the diary.

"The shop wouldn't be what it is without Mr Borgin's

charm."

Burke unleashed a wheeze of laughter.

"You're not wrong, Tom," he replied. "Yes, if you would like

to earn a few sickles a week, your help would be much

appreciated. Mind, you must promise to be careful and not

touch anything you're unsure of," he warned. "Most of the

items should be labelled, and anything immediately

dangerous will be boxed."

Tom nodded his understanding.

"When would you like me to start?"

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Burke offered him a smile.

"There is no time like the present."

Tom returned the gesture and rolled up his sleeves.

If the fool and his partner were so foolish that they hadn't

kept an accurate account of what they held, perhaps he may

find a few items to liberate for himself.

At the very least, he wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts

penniless.

(Break)

On its own, the message he'd received from Charlus

explaining what had transpired with Lord Selwyn was of

little consequence. Harry was aware that disputes with

contracts were often settled with a duel or through financial

compensation, so he hadn't really thought much of it.

He had merely sent a reply urging the man to tread

carefully.

However, this coupled with the latest report from Eleanor

was troubling.

With Gaulitier having agreed to serve as Selwyn's

champion, the stakes had become higher, and the fight

itself a much more dangerous prospect.

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Harry had no doubt that Charlus could defeat the man, but

Hans Gaulitier had not remained as one of the ICW's most

wanted men for as long as he had without reason.

Gaulitier was a dangerous man who had killed several hit-

wizards over the years and should not be taken lightly.

Nor could he be trusted to not adopt underhanded means

to emerge victorious.

That itself depended on his intent to fight honourably, and

why would he?

It would not be his contract he was breaching, so the

consequences would not be his to bear.

No, this didn't sit right with Harry, and he would need to

plan his own course of action accordingly to counter any

possible unpleasantness that may result.

He released a deep sigh.

He would first need to discuss it with Charlus as a matter

of urgency.

From there, he would decide his own approach to the

problem, and should he be able to turn the situation to his

favour, perhaps a desirable outcome could come from this

mess.

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Until he had pondered it, however, he intended to enjoy a

few more days with his daughter.

Entering the bedroom he shared with Minerva, he smiled

at the sight of the woman dozing lightly with the babe

resting on her chest.

Rosa was awake, her eyes shifting to him as he came into

her field of vision.

"Come here then," he whispered as he picked the girl up,

cradling her in his arms and simply staring at her.

She yawned as she settled, and Harry smiled.

Rosa was a content child, only fussing if she was hungry or

needed to be changed.

That would likely change as she got older, but that was not

something Harry could bring himself to think about.

He had missed her birth, and he knew he would miss many

more things in the coming months and maybe years.

It broke his heart knowing this, but he did not wish to

dwell on it in this moment, not whilst he was here.

"I could get used to seeing that," Minerva's voice broke into

his thoughts.

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"Me too," Harry agreed. "This parenting thing isn't so

hard."

Minerva rolled her eyes at him as she grinned.

"She's not a teenager yet, Harry," she pointed out. "Just

remember how I was when we first met."

Harry grinned amusedly.

"Half naked and practicing transfiguration?"

Minerva didn't blush at the memory anymore, but she

quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

"Maybe she will be inspired the same way I am."

Harry chuckled.

"I've not seen you practice like that since."

"I was smart enough to find a locked room," Minerva

explained. "You had to make do with helping me with my

transformations."

"Make do," Harry muttered. "You were quite insistent. I

didn't have much choice."

"You didn't complain," Minerva pointed out.

Harry snorted.

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"That's true," he conceded. "I wouldn't have dared."

Minerva tutted.

"You act as though you were never given a choice. Am I so

bad?"

Harry shook his head and sat on the bed next to her.

"No," he replied sincerely. "We wouldn't be here now if you

weren't the way you are. I wouldn't change any of it."

"You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that,"

Minerva replied. "It's not always been easy, especially for

you."

"What do you mean?"

"You knew me as an old woman before you came here,"

Minerva reminded him.

"I did, but I don't really remember her anymore. You're not

the same. There are similarities, but I don't see that woman.

To me, you're Minerva, the woman I fell in love with."

Minerva hummed as she shuffled towards him and kissed

him on the cheek.

"And the mother of your daughter."

"That too," Harry agreed, "and my wife if you'd like to be."

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Comments (13)

Another immensely fun chapter, thank you very much.

Minerva froze for a moment before she buried her face into

his neck.

It was something Harry had been pondering for some time

now, but he hadn't wanted Minerva to think he was doing it

only because she had been pregnant.

He needed her to know that he'd wanted this with or

without their daughter.

"I would like that more than anything," she whispered.

Newest First

Preview Post Comment…

AvidReader2425 2 weeks ago · 0 Likes

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Oh good. Marriage contract drama. Couldn't have a baron

story without that.

yay now weddings, looking forward to more

Well, there goes my dream of Selwyn being turned into

pulp...

This was a great window into the world that your plot and

scenes have made. Much of this was very vivid. I could hear

the voices.

Please write the next chapter already. Thank you very

much. I really appreciated it and liked it a lot. I am sorry if

Ugh 2 months ago · 0 Likes

Elaine Rose 2 months ago · 0 Likes

A name? I don't know... 3 months ago · 0 Likes

Village Mystic 3 months ago · 0 Likes

Justin 3 months ago · 0 Likes

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I am being rude with my review; I don't mean to be rude or

annoy you with my review; I just really like your story a lot.

It's already been written and even published/released.

Only s get to read it though, those of us unable (or

unwilling) to spare the monthly fee must wait

I'm also surprised it took him so long. Seems a bit silly just

to prove a point he could've done with his actions. Dude let

her go through her pregnancy and even after giving birth

without broaching the idea of him wanting to marry her.

Like... It's as if he decided to blindfold himself whenever he

was near her to prove his interest in her wasn't just physical

attraction. Sure it works for that, but you don't have to go

that far to prove your thoughts to the other person lol. You

can talk and they can learn what kind of person you are over

time. Why are you inconveniencing and making the other

person doubtful just to prove that?

The main character was being an idiot again.

D 3 months ago · 0 Likes

StoneTheLoner 3 months ago · 0 Likes

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Well, Harry is an idiot in canon as well, when it comes to

romance.

Nice chapter. I'm surprised it took him so long to ask.

Selwyn has to be a dim bulb. Otherwise, he'd be trying to

get out of the contract, not hiring champions, etc…. If

Potter and Black are both against you, that means Harry

and his army is against you. Any short term gains would be

wiped out the second the war is over. It would be like

calling out Audie Murphy post WW2. Even if you win

(which is possible, he's tiny, but you'd be crazy to face him

with a gun in hand), you lose in the court of public opinion,

with not possibility of appeal or clemency, and an army of

highly experienced killers looking to even the score.

Well to be fair, Selwyn is on the other side of the war and

believes Grindelwald to win. "After the war" would

therefore be in his favour.

A name? I don't know... 3 months ago · 0

Likes

Steve Moss 3 months ago · 0 Likes

Julian Barnett 3 months ago · 0 Likes

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When the Roses Bloom Again - A Move so Brazen

When the Roses Bloom

Again - My Family

True, what is short sighted is that as things stand

gridrlwald is no where near establishing an active presence

in Britain where most of the population is against him and

many have family on the front, that would happily get

behind black potter and Evans to strike back at Selwyn if

for no other reason than he risks compromising senior

British officials and the war effort with this move

I hope the fight its in next chapter

D 3 months ago · 0 Likes

Gabriel Juárez 3 months ago · 0 Likes

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Author/Site Owner: Lee : TheBlack'sResurgence

Email: (For all enquiries)

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