The first thing Harry noticed when she woke up was the fact that she was on a bed. Her bed.

And her Aunt Petunia was seated beside her with a solemn expression.

Harry bolted up, uncaring of how her vision wavered at the action. She scooted away from her relative in suspicion. Aunt Petunia had never been the type to be caring.

Well at least not to her freak niece Harriet.

"What do you want?"

Her voice came out in a croak.

Petunia handed her a glass of water from the desk beside her bed.

Harry drank it without question. If her aunt had wanted to kill her off, she had plenty of opportunities already.

Besides, she thought bitterly, Death was not a terrible option considering the trap I'm currently in.

The water soothed her dry throat but Harry wished she could have one more glass. She didn't ask though. She knew her boundaries in the Dursley household.

She was to be grateful for being given the first glass itself. She sneered mentally.

"What do you want Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked again, eyes boring into her aunt's suspiciously.

The woman sighed.

"Nothing. I overheard some snippets of the conversation you had last evening."

Harry snarled outwardly this time, fists bunching up the thing blanket draped over her. She didn't need the Dursleys to add to her shame. She could already picture all their bloody insults now.

Freak. Whore. Slut.

Her eyes blazed.

No bloody way.

"Snap out of it," Petunia told her coldly.

Harry blinked, focusing on her aunt again.

"Contrary to what you believe, I'm not here to add salt to your wounds," Petunia told her with an irritated look.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I dislike you, girl, make no mistake," Petunia elaborated with a sigh.

Harry refrained from rolling her eyes. She had gathered that through the years she'd spent under the Dursleys roof already, thank you very much.

"But even then, I do not hate you that much as to want you to undergo what that freak Ministry of your worlds has planned," Petunia told her.

Harry blinked. Well. Now this was news.

Petunia had some limit to the extent of hate she had for Harry?

"Marriage and everything that comes with it – spouse, sex," Petunia looked rather pained to be explaining it to Harry. "All that isn't for somebody else to decide. Especially when you are a woman in the relationship, you need to be able to trust that whoever you're going to end up with will take care of you."

Petunia gave a pained grimace at her.

"I'm sorry you're put in this position."

Harry turned away.

What good did her sorry do for her? It was useless.

"Those wards that they have around this house, they'll exist till your seventeen, right?"

Harry turned to her aunt with a frown but nodded in confirmation.

"Well then, the rest of your stay under this roof will be peaceful," Petunia told her with a grim face. "As it should have been."

Harry blinked at her aunt.

"You can plot whatever you want. My husband, son and I won't get in the way."

"How are you certain I'm plotting something?" Harry asked with a sceptical look.

Petunia smirked.

"Girl, I grew up with Lily Evans for a sister. Despite the rift in our relationship when we grew older, I've lived under the same roof as her. I know when an Evans is plotting revenge."

Harry gaped at her aunt.

"Besides, your magic," Petunia grimaced at the word, "Was rather expressive in its anger and hatred when it swamped around the house a few hours ago."

"Oh," Harry turned away. "Sorry if I broke anything."

Petunia laughed at that. Harry stared, never having ever witnessed her aunt act so freely around her.

"Oh it didn't break anything but a certain someone did get the brunt of its anger."

Harry frowned. If it were Vernon or Dudley, Petunia wouldn't be sitting her talking civilly with her.

"That man – godfather of yours," Petunia elaborated.

Harry tensed, cold fury washing over her.

"I told him to –"

A hand wrapped over her clenched fist on the bed, effectively shocking Harry out of her anger. She stared at her aunt's fingers that were gently squeezing over her right hand. Never did she ever believe there would be a day her aunt would ever touch her without disgust marring her features.

"I know you're angry. You have every right Harriet." Harry started at the sound of her given name coming from her aunt's lip. "But I think the fact that he stayed back to beg and grovel shows he cares."

"He's with the others in selling me off like a prostitute for sale!" Harry hissed, hurt lacing her words against her wishes.

Petunia gave a small smile.

"I don't think so. He seemed pretty distraught all this time and he has yet to leave. That doesn't sound like a man who doesn't care, Harriet."

"But –"

"Look," Petunia cut in. "I don't know anything in detail so for all I know, your stance is completely correct in all this madness. But you've said before that the man has been illegally incarcerated once in that horrid prison of your kind with those horrid dark creatures that suck out happiness."

Petunia shuddered, likely remembering what had almost happened to her precious Dudders a couple years back.

"Maybe the man's messed up in the head after all that, who knows? But since he obviously cares enough to stay despite being attacked by your magic, you should consider talking to him first before severing ties and all that."

Petunia gave a small smile that held bitter undertones.

"It's very late for me, but I do confess wondering if I had done that with Lily years back, we'd all probably be in a better place."

Harry stared silently at her aunt.

"I'll let the man up in half an hour?" Petunia asked gently.

Harry blinked, not quite yet used to this side of her aunt.

"However, did you manage to keep him out for so long?" she asked, instead of answering.

Petunia smirked.

"Words cut deep. I only kept pointing out the fact that you obviously don't consider him a trustworthy person. He looked like someone stabbed him in the heart every time he got reminded."

Harry chuckled darkly, not surprised at Petunia's cruelness. For all her kindness, she was still the same woman who had locked Harry up in a cupboard as a child.

"I live a very messed up life," Harry concluded as she stared back down at the hand covering her own, feeling warmth at its presence despite knowing that this same hand slap her for almost all her life. "Very messed up life."

Petunia had yet to let go.

"Send him up in ten minutes, Aunt. I might as well get this all over sooner or later," Harry sighed.

Petunia gave her hand a small squeeze before releasing it and standing up. Harry noted with surprise that she did miss the warmth of her aunt's hand. She watched the older woman make her way out of her room and tilted her head ever so slightly when Petunia paused by the door.

"For what it's worth," Petunia started, turning back to face Harry right before she stepped out. "I'm sorry."

Harry stilled.

Petunia left without waiting for any reply.

Harry stared at her closed bedroom door after that, smiling a bitter smile.

A small part of her however, was undeniably lighter. She certainly didn't like her aunt and her family. Not at all.

But she was relieved all the same.


Harry stared at the man kneeling before him in disdain. There were cuts all over his body, the sky-blue robes he was wearing stained with his own blood. Her magic had obviously not been happy at seeing him when it had gone on its mad rampage around the house.

"Pup please I'm sorry –"

Harry's restraint snapped. With a snarl she leaned forward and swung violently at the man before her.

The sound of a harsh slap echoed around the silent room.

Sirius stared at her in shock.

"Sorry?" Harriet hissed. "That's the best you can do? You sit here and give me the same bullshit you gave me yesterday Black!"

Harry swung her arm again, backhanding her godfather's face in anger, too furious to care about being respectful.

"I ran off with a half-cooked plan, worried sick and scared to face my mortal enemy when I thought your useless arse was in danger!"

She hated how she could feel her eyes tearing up again.

"And you? YOU SIT HERE SAYING YOU CAN'T LIFT A FINGER FOR ME WHEN I NEED HELP?!"

Harry stared in disgust at the way the man crumpled into himself.

"Pup I tried! The bastards have cornered me. Played up the media to cook up some story that I'm not completely sane. Why do you think I can't –"

"So legally they've blocked your ways," Harry scoffed.

She brought her face down to her godfather's in contempt, fisting up the collar of his robes with an angry snarl. "Did you just stop there? Couldn't think of anything illegal in that brain no more, Grim Animagus since fifteen?"

Harry stared at the guilty silver eyes before her before pushing away the man with disgust.

"Why should I be surprised? I was never important for you like dear old Moony was!" she spat.

It hurt. That her godfather would do this.

"Pup I –"

"Spare me anymore of your nonsense," she cut in as she sat back down on the edge of her bed.

Her mind whirled, ideas, thoughts and plans circling around her head at light's speed.

She was alone. She needed to take care of herself. No other way around it.

"Pup –"

"I said spare me Black," Harry snapped. "I've long known about this fact no matter how much I've wished otherwise. Known since third year when you only scrambled out of prison for revenge rather than to look after your only goddaughter!"

"That's not true!" Sirius shouted out, despair and shock clouding his eyes. The man scrambled to get closer to Harry. "Come on pup, you know that isn't true!"

Harriet knew it wasn't. She knew it well – before Petunia even reminded her – that things with her godfather were complicated at best. The man didn't ask to be left to rot in Azkaban unjustly. It couldn't be helped that he was left in a poor situation, unable to grieve the loss of his best friend and sister-in-heart's deaths. Unable to comprehend that another best friend had been the reason for the loss. That he had been betrayed and set up.

It was only chance that Wormtail's picture was caught on paper and the Prophet was handed over to Sirius while he was in jail. It was only luck that Sirius had retained enough clarity to remember he was innocent and that he had to escape to kill Wormtail.

For revenge and to protect Harry.

Harriet knew that all.

But she was rather tired at always being dealt with the shorter end of the wand. Always being casted off as second priority once her usefulness in fighting Voldemort was over.

She didn't even ask for Sirius to be a sane guardian. She couldn't care less if the man was as insane as Bellatrix Lestrange!

She just wanted him to care of her first!

Anyone to care for her first. Was that so bad of her to ask?

"You're my only family, pup!"

Sirius had scrambled over to cup Harry's face gently. Harry pulled away in disgust.

"You have a pretty terrible way of showing that, Black," she spat, fists bunching up the edge of the blanket below her fingers. "Wouldn't be surprised if you're only doing this whole act on Dumbledore's orders."

Her voice turned mocking.

"Dumbledore said this pup. Dumbledore knows best pup. Dumbledore wants you to fuck a Death Eater so it's bound to be for the greater good pup!"

She wanted to punch the man before her. But she didn't want blood coating over the handprints on Sirius' face just yet. She rather enjoyed seeing the sharp stinging red marks on him.

It suited the man well. Bastard of a godfather that he was.

"Pup you know that's not how it works. The Wizengemot voted majority. Dumbledore was helpless to –"

Harry let out a bitter laugh.

"Lookie here! What a surprise! You are still defending that man!"

Harry glared at Sirius Black.

"Tell me this, if he is oh so powerful, with so many fucking powerful positions, why the hell can't he do anything good with them?" She snapped. "Why is he helpless when he is the one holding all the key positions barring the Minister's seat?!"

Sirius stayed silent, biting his lip.

Harry let out a hysterical laugh.

"Oh, don't want to admit it do you Sirius Black?" Harry asked in a mocking parody of a little child's voice. "Well, I'll tell you! He only cares for giving second chances! To people who fucked up! To people who would hurt the good ones in the first place without remorse!"

It wasn't the complete truth. Harry would acknowledge that deep down her heart. Deep, deep down somewhere that still retained some miniscule faith in the world, though it was locked too far away for her to access at the moment. Dumbledore did have his heart in the right place.

But that wasn't helping Harriet now, was it?

His bloody good heart is why the likes of Malfoy was being negotiated with for Harriet's hand in marriage.

A thought entered her mind.

"Malfoy," she muttered. "Why are there talks of marrying me off to Mlafoy of all people? His father is still rotting in Azkaban!"

Sirius winced, moving away from her subtly. But Harry caught the action all the same.

"What?" she asked with a glare. "What trap is it now?"

"Dumbledore –" Sirius winced at the snarl forming on Harry's face but persevered on. "Dumbledore suggested it to save Draco and his mother. Give them a –"

Sirius paused, realisation dawning on his pale face. Harry narrowed her eyes.

"Give them a second chance," Sirius ended up saying in a broken whisper, horror in his eyes.

Harry snorted bitterly.

"Realised it have you finally?" she asked with a sad smile as she saw the gears moving in Sirius' head.

Pathetic. It took him this long? To realise all this?

He should have realised he was on the wrong team the moment that twinkling-eyed goat told him of the stupid marriage Law.

She stared at his turbulent silver eyes. She could still see conflict in them, as though he didn't want to believe her. Couldn't bring himself to believe her.

Harry cursed him and his false promises to her in her heart.

"Let me ask you this," Harry started in a sweet voice. The innocence was belied by the anger glinting in her emerald eyes. She was going to force the man to her views if it was the last thing she did. "What about me? And all those poor, helpless girls out there like me? What of even a first chance for us? Do we not deserve it? No?"

Sirius hung his head.

Harry huffed in disgusted. With the way her thought were going, she wanted him to hang himself. It was taking all her restraint not to tell the man that.

He was still slightly off in the head, she knew.

He might just do it.

"You know what this whole thing is truthfully, Black? Legalising rape," Harry spat. "Because I assure you, I won't be consenting to that Malfoy brat touching me anywhere at all. You're agreeing with those lot in stripping me of my virginity without consent!"

"Pup I'm sorry."

Harry chuckled mirthlessly.

"You've said that for about a couple hundred times already Black. Frankly all I feel I'm getting is quantity, not quality. You're a pathetic excuse for a godfather."

Sirius crumpled further.

"No please pup, I mean it! I'll do anything to prove it! You're all I have left."

Harry scoffed.

"And I'll repeat myself: You have a piss poor way of showing that, Black. Do keep on kissing Dumbledore's arse and gossiping jovially with Lupin in your spare times! I'm certain I'll continue to not believe your lies!"

Sirius grabbed her arms desperately.

"No! Pup please! I mean it! I'll do whatever you want for me to prove it to you! I'm sorry!"

Harry stilled, eyes glinting dangerously.

"Whatever I want?"

Sirius nodded frantically.

Harry felt a dark sensation unfurl within her chest. Her eyes glinted slightly.

"Would you give me an oath to seal that promise?" she probed with a daring look.

Sirius didn't hesitate in nodding to that and Harry supposed that redeemed him somewhat in her eyes. She also caught the desperate flare of hope in those silver eyes. She smirked internally.

She was done being used. She really was.

And Sirius, for all his flaws and complicated issues, had matters that were important for her if she wanted to survive this new trap that the wizarding world had sprung on her.

"Then maybe, I can find it in myself to forgive you for your betrayals, godfather," she replied.

Sirius enveloped her in a relieved hug after that. Harry rested her chin on the man's left shoulder carefully, eyes glinting as thoughts whirled around her head.

"If you are done being used, little one, start being the one that uses other then," the Lady said.

Harry tightened her arms slightly around Sirius' waist.

She really didn't want to do this. Certainly, she didn't want to use her godfather of all people for her plans.

But she was tired.

And scared. Losing her own body to someone else was not in her plans.

As much as she wanted to trust her Siri again, he'd proven to not be fully capable of upholding her trust. And trust, once broken, was hard to regain. Fully at least.

Harry sighed into Sirius' shoulder.

"Well on the bright side," she thought. "At least I'll have Sirius in my life still, partially trustworthy or not. That's better than having no one."

She sighed again as she reviewed her own thought.

She has a pretty pathetic life alright.


6th July

"How may I help you, Miss Potter?"

Harry stared at the goblin seated across her calmly.

"Allies," she told the goblin calmly. "I would like allies in the Goblin Nation who would swear not to betray me in my plans."

Griphook sneered at her.

"And why would any of us want to help you Miss Potter? What would be the benefit for us?"

Harry didn't reply. Instead, she placed the hat she had kept on her lap onto the table before her and casually pulled out a glittering sword from its depths.

"I can return something the wizarding world has been keeping away from your kind unjustly for starters," she said.

She watched as shock and an emotion that could only be classified as obsession washed over Griphook's eyes.

"The Sword!" the goblin whispered reverentially.

Harry handed it over, not commenting on how quickly the goblin snatched it away from her hands. She let the being run its hands over the metal blade to its heart content over the next few minutes.

"You said it yourself, Miss Potter," Griphook started after a while after settling the sword somewhere under his drawer. Harry didn't bother wondering how it fit. "This was something your kind kept unjustly from my Nation. Do you honestly think this would be a wise bargaining chip?"

Harry shrugged.

"I said it was my starting bargaining chip. I have more benefits to offer for a possible alliance with me to your Nation."

Griphook tilted his head.

"And if we deny to help you out even then?"

"Then I'll simply ask of you to conduct your offered services of protecting, witnessing and executing my will to leave everything I own to Gringotts, as long as you never use it for anyone in Dumbledore's circle or the Death Eaters," she replied frankly.

Griphook blinked.

"To Gringotts?"

Harry shrugged.

"Anyone who isn't a witch or wizard is good in my eyes," she told the goblin dully.

"Why would you need a will now?" Griphook asked after a moment of silence.

"To ensure none of my ancestors' work or legacies fall into wizard hands once I die."

"You seem confident that you'll die soon. Planning to take your life like a coward?" Griphook sneered.

"I only have my body and mind left to call my own," Harry replied without batting an eye. "If Death be what it takes for me to save that from others, I'm not afraid to do it. I refuse to play a bitch in heat for a stranger."

Griphook blinked.

"So, you've finally heard of the marriage laws then, witch?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I've only heard of them now, yes. Pray tell when were these going around exactly?"

"It's been in the talks and rumour mills for a year, Miss Potter, ever since the Final Battle that happened at your magical school," Griphook replied casually. "Though only now did they implement it."

Harry's jaw clenched.

"Explains a lot," she muttered.

It certainly did. She heard how many Pureblood witches were already in engagement contracts that somehow exempted them from following the latest law. They didn't have a time limit over their heads to get married and bear children lest they wished to be carted off to Azkaban.

"Alright, let's get to business then, Miss Potter."

Harry looked up to find Griphook staring at her seriously, fingers steepled across his chin.

"What would you like the Goblin Nation, as your allies, to do for you?"

Harry blinked. Then a small smile graced her lips.

"How about we start off with some oaths of confidentiality Griphook?"

The goblin nodded in approval.

"Wise moves witch. It is never good to be too trusting."

Harry's eyes glinted.

"So, I've learnt."


Sirius gave his goddaughter a curious look.

"You're going to remain in the goblins' care for a while," Harry told him with a blank face.

"Why –"

"Have you gotten therapy or anything at all since Azkaban?" she asked him seriously.

The man shook his head.

"Well then you're getting it now. I can't afford for you to make more mistakes," she told the man seriously.

Sirius winced but didn't protest.

"Whatever you wish," the man told her despondently.

Harry refrained from grimacing at how pathetic the man appeared. She didn't really understand what was going on with him. He was a far cry from the person she had gotten to know in her third year. Though he had been somewhat insane, Sirius had still retained some fire and passion within him, able to think independently. But now, he seemed rather like a puppet whose strings have been half cut.

It didn't sit right with her.

Ever since she had managed to force her mind to calm down from the raging emotions whirling through her heart, she had started to wonder what happened to her godfather. What happened to the man who had looked at her and promised to bring the world her feet, even though he was a man on the run.

He couldn't have just changed in the span of the four days she had not sent him since their last meeting at King's Cross Station.

Something was definitely not right. She wished she had realised it sooner rather than later. It made her guilty now to see the scars on his face and arm, courtesy of her magic's lash out.

"Go with Snarktooth now," she told the man in a neutral voice. "And cooperate. I'll come to visit in a few days."

She left after that, unable to meet the turbulent silver eyes.

They seemed too disconnected to be genuine.


8th July

"What happened?" Harry asked Griphook as she stumbled from her landing at the end of the portkey ride.

She had barely been gone for a day since her last visit ten hours ago. The goblin gestured for her to follow him as he made his way out of the warded room.

"I'll tell you on the way," Griphook told her. "It's about your godfather."


Harry snarled at her godfather's unconscious form.

"Any idea to confirm who put the compulsions on him?" she asked. "Because I have speculations."

"The magical signature's residue is weak but my Nation knows well enough who has such a despicably washed out yellow in their magic."

Harry didn't bat an eye at the goblin's choice of words. She had learned from Griphook hours back that Goblin Magics worked differently. That goblins saw magic differently.

To them, magic of individuals existed in different colours.

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked coldly.

"Dumbledore," Griphook confirmed gravely.

Harry let out a muted scream behind closed lips, hope, anger and many other emotions raging within her. She composed herself after a few beats and let out a sigh.

"Want to join me again in plotting?" she turned to Griphook seriously.

The surly goblin brightened.

"Sure."