Narcissa Malfoy sat on the high backed-chair as she considered her options. There was no saving Lucius – she knew that. She was hoping she could get herself and Draco off on a fine, and possibly ask the Wizengamot to issue them both a new wand.

She glanced down at the Summons Letter spread infront of her. The trial would start tomorrow- two lawyers from Glint and Gunning's Firm were presently busy in the study, grilling Draco and making him ready for the trial.

Draco's behavior was beginning to worry her. He was strangely withdrawn, although she supposed the war could have had that effect. The most inconvenient attitude was Draco's strange persistence to refuse to build up a case in his favor.

''I can't really stand there and say I am not a Death Eater, now can I, mother? Not when the Dark Mark is on my arm – even non Death Eaters know the Mark needed to be taken voluntarily.'' He had said, before turning on his heel and following the lawyers into the study.

She massaged her temples and snapped her fingers at Tilly. ''Bring me some tea.''

The elf disappeared after a low bow, and reappeared in a jiffy.

The doors to the study swung open as Draco walked out, head held high.

Mr. Gunning looked terribly displeased.

''Mr. Malfoy, there was very little you did do –most of the time you were an unwilling accomplice, if even so – there is no reason for you to volunteer information- ''

Draco stopped walking and turned around slowly. ''You, as my lawyer, can advise me, Mr. Gunning.''

Narcissa stood up, almost at her wit's end – '' Draco! Must you be mulish? Don't you see how important these trials are going to be – it's going to determine whether you live your life as the respected Pureblood Malfoy Heir or rot away in Azkaban!''

Draco gave an un-heir-like snort. '' The only creature respecting me right now is Tilly, Mother.''

Narcissa pursed her lips, grey eyes glinting with anger. She nodded to the two exasperated lawyers behind her son and commanded Tilly to escort them out.

''Draco. Are you going through a particularly rebellious phase?'' She said, her voice cold and condescending as soon as the men were out of the gates.

''No, Mother. I am trying to set things right.''

''By self-incrimination?''

Draco looked at a point beyond her shoulder, focusing on nothing.

''Dumbledore offered. That old Muggle-loving fool that father despised so much – he offered to keep us safe. He had given me a choice – and I considered taking it as well, Mother! If only dear Aunt Bellatrix didn't twirl in and make things worse, I might have had said yes! And who knows how that would've turned out?''

Narcissa opened her mouth, furious, but Draco wasn't stopping.

''He wasn't asking us to fight – he wasn't! All he wanted was to lift us up from this hellhole we'd dug ourselves in to – he simply wanted us to not choose the Dark Lord. He said I'm not a killer – he said I had a choice!''

Draco yelled the last sentence out. His father, sober for a change, rushed down the marble stairs.

''Draco! You will not speak to your mother like that – ''

''Every choice I made has been wrong! Every, Damn, Choice! If only we had chosen to not participate in the war, so many things would have had been different! We wouldn't be in this muck, to start with, all those muggleborns Avery hunted down and imprisoned in our basement – they'd have a chance to run - I would still have my wand, and people wouldn't look down upon us as if we were vermin! You talk about pride? What pride?! You – you both ruined it!''

Draco stopped, chest heaving. Lucius and Narcissa were at a loss for words. Draco expected as much.

''I will present myself before the Wizengamot with what little dignity I have left. No amount of persuasion on your part will convince me.''

And he stomped up the stairs, bitterly disgusted at what his life had turned out to be.

Dudley thanked Harry for apparating him back home – or at least, tried to – he was too queasy to properly say anything. Harry had patted him on the back and promised to write back sometime soon – patting the letter Dudley had written that was now in his back pocket.

Dudley trudged up the pebbly path to the door, which flung open almost immediately.

''Oh Dudders! We have been so worried – where have you been since the morning? We called at the Polkiss's, they said you hadn't been to see Piers, and I couldn't think of anywhere else you might have been – ''

''Mum! I am a grown up, I can take care of myself – ''

But he couldn't stop Petunia from fussing over him, demanding to know if he felt ill or if he was hurt.

Dudley let her fuss – after all, things were going to get very patchy after dinner.

Dudley waited with baited breath as Vernon took a bite of the thick tomato soup. George had said it would wear off in a day, so he had neglected to buy the countercharm for the Blabbering Beans he had slipped into his father's soup.

''Petunia, Marge might be coming over for a visit.''

Dudley frowned as his parents started talking about changing the bed sheets in the guest room.

Why wasn't it working?

''Liggedy piggedy hurricane goofer?'' Vernon said, looking extremely surprised.

Dudley snorted into his soup. Petunia gave a shriek – '' Vernon! What's the matter?''

''Notting Hill flabberty hitman! Pooh needs macaroni! Why wordle no bungle?!'' Vernon said, frustrated, as he tried to make sense of what he was saying.

''Oh! What is it? What are you saying – Vernon!''

Dad had stood up, mustache quivering angrily – Dudley wondered if he was angry with himself or Mum – she was being hysterical.

''Batty cats fussy pets! Shroom this mushroom!''

Dudley ducked his head in fear of laughing infront of his parents – why did Dad start rhyming?

Brilliant idea.

He decided he would mention it to George later – if he could make a toffee that made people rhyme as they talked.

As Vernon's voice became increasingly louder with an effort to make sense, Dudley quietly slipped upstairs to compose a letter. George had promised to send an owl – ''I'll nick Percy's – '' he said, and he needed to write the letter beforehand. George would be thrilled to know how his beans were working.

George,

The beans were fantastic! I slipped them into the soup as you said, and at first it wasn't working at all – then Dad suddenly started babbling about goofers and hurricanes – and Mum freaked out like never before – it's excellent!

Also, Dad has started rhyming a bit, which got me thinking – maybe you could make a toffee or pasty or something that makes people rhyme? It would be brilliant – only problem is, Aunt Marge might be visiting tomorrow – she'll take one look at Dad and faint right away if he keeps on blabbering.

Would you remind Harry to write back to me? I haven't got an owl – of course I haven't, and our fireplace isn't magical at all.

Dudley.

There was a quiet knock at the window and Dudley looked over to see an important- looking owl pecking on the window pane, unimpressed that it was closed.

He opened it, letting the bird in, and cleared his throat.

''Take it to George Weasley, will you? He said you'd know what to do.'' Dudley said, again, feeling very stupid for talking to a bird.

But the owl blinked and hooted, as if agreeing with him, and patiently held it's leg out for Dudley to tie the white piece of paper .

As the owl took off, Dudley marveled at how far he'd come in a year.

''Nifty schooler hooligan ruler! Wiggle piggle enormous higgle!'' Vernon roared from downstairs, and Dudley dissolved into fits of laughter.

''Quit annoying me, Perce, I haven't seen your stupid owl!'' Ginny huffed, stomping into Ron's room and slamming the door shut. Several other doors rattled with the force.

''What is he on about?'' Ron asked, making space for her to sit on his bed.

Hermione sat cross-legged on Harry's camp bed, and Harry sat on the ground between the two beds – he'd had no other choice – Hermione had littered his bed with tomes of spell books. She was apparently very close to figuring out how to lift the memory alteration charm.

''Hermes isn't perching on his stand, and Percy thinks I nicked him.''

''Maybe it was George, you know – saw him creeping up the stairs after Harry apparated away with Dudley.''

''Yes, he's strangely back in his element, isn't he? Better keep track of your wands – Mum swished another fake wand a minute ago that turned into a duck. She's yelling again.'' Ginny chuckled fondly.

''Right. So what d'you call us here for, Harry?'' Ron asked, clouting Harry on the back of his head, quite unnecessarily, Harry thought, as he rubbed the spot.

''Git.'' He muttered darkly, flipping the letter from Gringotts open, and started reading it, after nudging Hermione to make sure she was paying attention.

Mr. Harry James Potter,

The Wizarding Bank of Gringotts acknowledges you as the sole Heir to all properties belonging to the Late Sirius Orion Black – some, such as Grimmauld Place and Mr. Black's personal vault has already been transferred under your name, however, certain other assets required you to be 17 years of age to claim full authority. We are aware you are of age as of 31st July 1997, but owing to political circumstances we were unable to contact you. The properties and assets listed below are now legally under your name –

Black Manor (Unplottable)

Black Residence, 23/A Clifton Street.

Black Vault

Lestrange Vault

Lestrange Manor (Unplottable)

Lestrange Residence (Unplottable)

Lestrange Chateau (Unplottable)

Please present yourself within a week to sign the relevant documents, as well as Wand verification.

The Black and Lestrange vaults are one of the sacred twenty eight oldest vaults, as such we request you make haste. After seven days, the contents of the vault shall legally be transferred under Gringotts Council.

Gornook,

Head Goblin of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

Harry stopped reading, and looked up at his friends. They had identical expressions of utter and complete shock.

''Bloody hell, Harry, you are disgustingly rich!''

Harry cringed, and glanced up at Ron. He hadn't wanted to discuss his growing assets infront of the Weasleys, but he had never hidden anything from his friends. And of course, Ginny deserved to know.

''Why do you get the Lestrange Assets? I doubt they nominated you as their heir?'' Ginny asked, leaning over for a better look at the letter.

Hermione crossed her fingers together thoughtfully.

''Rodolphus Lestrange died before Bellatrix did, and Rabastan died before his brother. I guess the Lestrange properties got transferred to Bellatrix's name, and when she died without an heir, it was automatically transferred to the Black family, her family name before marriage. And the Black heir is, of course, you.''

Harry shook his head – ''How about Narcissa? She's next in line – or Andromeda!''

''They're married, aren't they – they aren't Blacks anymore.''

''Blimey.'' Ron muttered, going over the list again.

Harry felt very ashamed- he didn't need that much money! He hadn't even read the second letter yet.

It was as if Ginny read his mind.

''There were two letters, weren't there? What's the other one say, Harry?'' she asked shrewdly, waggling her eyebrows.

Harry flushed as Ron gasped. '' Same thing, really – just that the Potter Mansion and Potter Residence is under my name now, along with the Potter vault. There were two, apparently – one I had known since I was eleven and another one much deeper underground- apparently Potter used to be a pureblood family.''

Ron let out a low whistle, as Hermione suddenly grabbed the letters.

''Harry! It says seven days – but you haven't got that much time! There's Malfoy's trial tomorrow at eight thirty, and Remus and Tonks' funeral the day after – and you have to be present for Umbridge's trial as well, and that is on Thursday – then Fred's funeral on Saturday – you only have Friday in between!''

''Dratted goblins. They did this on purpose.'' Harry grumbled, looking over to his calendar. Hermione was right – he was swamped with court appearances and funerals.

The four friends huddled together to discuss all sorts of odds and ends, and Harry was glad he told them – he had been chewing his nails over the letters for three days now. He would gladly give the Weasleys all of his money, but he was absolutely sure they wouldn't take it – moreover, Ron would club him over his head for even suggesting such a thing.

But Harry was determined – he'd find a way to help his friends. He happened to overhear a late night conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley when he had woken up to use the loo.

Mrs. Weasley was fretting- Arthur, of course, had to quit his job after the Ministry fiasco last year, and then the family had to go into hiding. Apparently the Weasleys had used up all of their savings, and even though Arthur had resumed his job and been promoted to a better post, there was still a lot of things to consider.

Harry would find a way. It was the least he could do for his surrogate family.

I'm not sure if Lestrange did die in canon, but I rather prefer it. It gives me immense pleasure to imagine Bellatrix rolling around in her grave thinking about Harry Potter owning her properties. Also, I'm rubbish at writing official looking documents, so bear with me.

Also, as Arrowkid21 pointed out – Fleur wasn't pregnant during the battle, and I have completely mucked that up, so I will refrain from including her in the narrative until after Victoire is born, so sorry for that as well.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed – really, makes me feel so much better.