Merit and Inheritance
Chapter Twelve
What A Day
"Mr. Potter," said Dieter Berg as he walked in the salon. "Pardon the intrusion. I wouldn't have come but you have something that, by rights, you are obligated to share. I've come for it. Now, the witch you know as Romilda Vane, who was once married to my father, is in England. She was seen in the vicinity of your office. Considering your past history with the witch Romilda Vane Berg, you undoubtedly know this. The family's correspondents are convinced you know her whereabouts. If you don't, that's too bad because I will be forced to subdue you so you can watch me first interrogate the young lady in front of you."
"Harry," Daphne began.
"Don't worry, that's not enough wizard to stress your mildest stunner," said Harry. "We're going to have to handle him very carefully because he is dumb and inbred. Good with languages, though, according to him."
"Mr. Potter, you are being very foolish," said Dieter Berg. "You do not want to provoke me. I could kill you both before you could move."
"Well, Signur Berg, I've been dead and it wasn't all bad. I learned a lot from the experience, as you can surely imagine. I can easily arrange for you to be dead if you'd like to see what I'm talking about. First though, the formalities," said Harry as he stood, hands visible so Berg could see he was wandless.
"Fellow wizard, my name is Harry James Potter, Lord Potter and Lord Black, Heir of Ignotus Peverell, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, Order of Merlin. You are standing uninvited in my family seat, wherein reside the sacred portraits that represent the shades of my ancestors. So you can take your Berg and slide it you-know-where, and I hope you enjoy it immensely. I don't know where Romilda Vane is and if I did I'd enchant her and put her at the bottom of the Marianas Trench and send you down after her because your degenerate Roman magic doesn't impress me one bit," Harry said as Berg became redder and redder. "Before you were halfway to the bottom you'd be crushed and compacted until I could hang you from a twenty karat gold chain and present you to Romilda to wear around her neck along with whatever other well-deserved loot she snookered out of your provincial pervert of a grandpa."
Dieter Berg was one of those men who liked to get good and angry before he started fighting because he thought it made him a better fighter, and besides, it just felt so good. Too bad for him he didn't think about the meaning of what Harry told him, just being honest, about the status of an invader in the presence of Potters, Blacks, Peverells and Salazar Slytherin.
Dieter wasn't fooling around but went straight to Harry's old acquaintance, the killing curse, Avada Kedavra. He got it off, but it never arrived. Dieter Berg had just time enough to unstraighten his arm and start puzzling over his wand when the paralysis began. Within two seconds he was completely petrified. He didn't topple over because something levitated him. He began revolving slowly as soon as his feet left the floor. A transparent cube appeared around him. It was immaterial, with six perfectly square sides that rippled slightly as the cube turned, so it didn't seem to be solid. Harry walked over to the cube and looked in at the petrified Dieter Berg as his ancestors shouted, clapped, cheered, laughed, whistled and rapped their painted table tops with their knuckles.
"Yes, alright, thank-you for the help," Harry called out. "Well done, well done everyone. You are all my witnesses, I gave him all the facts he needed to know to avoid this very thing happening."
"So you did, lad, well done!" said one of the portraits.
"No one to blame but himself, and perfectly legal," laughed another.
"There's a place for him right there on the mantle if you want to show him off," observed a third.
Harry stood looking at the cube, assessing something.
"Now…"
Harry pointed his wand at the transparent cube and it began to shrink, Dieter Berg shrinking in proportion right along with the cube. When it was about the size of a standard lump of sugar, Harry plucked it out of the air and dropped it in the pocket of his robe.
"For ease of administration," Harry explained to everyone, and no one in particular.
He turned around, expecting to address his great-grandmother Dorea Black Potter but was surprised to see she was already involved in a side conversation with Daphne.
Walking up, he heard Dorea ask, "What do you think of him?"
"He's quite the specimen, isn't he?" answered Daphne. "Oh, Harry, I was just having a word with Madam Dorea. She wanted you to pass something along."
"Harry, give my love to Walburga when you get home, will you please?" Dorea asked.
"She might get upset and have trouble sleeping tonight if I do that, Grandmother," Harry said.
"Well, of course she will," said Dorea, giggling like a schoolgirl.
After all the excitement, the portraits were beginning to show signs of needing to get back to sleep.
"It's been a great day for Potter family magic, hasn't it?" Harry asked. There weren't any dissenters to his observation. "So, good-night, everyone, and I'll be back as soon as I can get here. Try to have some new stories for me next time."
The portraits that hadn't yet dropped off to sleep thanked Harry for coming, thanked him for putting on such a good show, and thanked him some more for bringing along his beautiful girlfriend.
"Okay," Harry said. He stood back from the sofa and raised his hands. The sheet flew back in from somewhere and arranged itself over the sofa. Harry raised his hands a second time and all the portraits' drapes flew back and covered them up, a few "Good-nights" leaking out here and there.
Harry led the way to the foyer, turned and waved the lights and fire out, then waved the door to the salon closed with his left hand. He took Daphne back outside, closing the front door from the top step. It didn't sigh this time, but said something that sounded like 'Harrumph.'
Then it was down to the front lawn and the replacing of the boards over the door.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
"I have a request," said Daphne.
"Oh?"
"Please don't think you have to top that, at least not for my sake," Daphne said. "Now, where next?"
"Now we can go to Greengrass Manor," Harry said.
"Ah," said Daphne. "That. Here I thought Cyrus was going to be the hard nut that needed cracking today."
"The night's young," Harry said. "It's not even quite here yet, is it? Give Cyrus a chance."
Daphne put her arm across Harry's back, he laid his arm over hers and grabbed a fistful of robe. Daphne dropped them right outside the Greengrass Manor wards.
"You haven't been here before, have you?" Daphne asked.
"I don't remember it if I have. At one point, you know, blackouts…ah," said Harry.
"Chalked up to experience, Harry," Daphne said. "That's all water under the bridge. I don't remember you being here, or you and I being here."
Daphne walked with Harry up the steps to the front door, which opened for them. The house elf on door duty was so tiny Harry didn't see her right away.
"Oh, my," Harry said. It was a reaction, nothing he wanted to say.
"Sorry, I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, dropping into a squat and extending his hand. "You are?"
"Fluff, Lord Harry, I have always wanted to meet you, such an honor, sir," said Fluff.
"Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Fluff," said Harry as the elf enthusiastically shook Harry's index finger.
A witch, quite handsome, looking like an older version of Daphne, stepped out of a doorway.
"Daphne, you're home early," she said, her voice a little warbly.
"I didn't work a full shift, Mother," said Daphne. "I worked on the problem you handed me."
"Oh? What problem is that?" the witch asked.
"The financial thing, the one the owl brought? From Gringotts?" Daphne said.
"Oh, that. I asked your father about it and he assured me that is some kind of administrative error," said the witch. "He has an appointment at Gringotts tomorrow and he's going down there to give them a piece of his mind. After all the years he's done his banking there you'd expect those goblins to have a better grasp of just who Cyrus Greengrass is. Oh, forgive me sir, you are?"
"Harry Potter, madam, and you must be Daphne's mother?"
"Sorry, Mother, this is Harry, who was at Hogwarts with me," said Daphne. "Harry, my mother, Cordelia Greengrass."
Mrs. Greengrass glanced at Harry's forehead, apparently seeking confirmation of Daphne's description, before bothering herself just enough to extend a limp hand vaguely in Harry's direction. Harry took Cordelia's fingertips between his thumb and first finger and leaned over.
"Delighted to make your acquaintance," said Harry. "Such an honor to meet Daphne's mother."
Cordelia gave Harry a look, a very neutral one, as if it would have pained her to show disdain because Harry didn't rank high enough for Cordelia to take umbrage over the fact that she had to share the earth with him.
"Same, I'm sure," Cordelia managed. She turned to Daphne.
"I take it the attraction isn't physical," Cordelia said, shifting her eyes to Harry then back to Daphne.
"Mother," said Daphne, a mix of plea and warning. "Harry is here to help. You and Father will hear him out. Let's not leap off the cliff. There are no lemmings here."
Harry thought Cordelia Greengrass was going to opt out of responding altogether but she got to the end of her ability to resist and sighed: "Cyrus is in the study."
"This way," said Daphne, taking Harry's sleeve and directing him to a door. Just before knocking she whispered, "Let's do 'Getting To Know You' first. Take your time, talk a little quidditch. He really responds to the social niceties."
Harry was sure Cordelia Greengrass heard Daphne's cheeky comments but the older witch gave no sign.
"Come in!" said a voice at Daphne's knock on the study door.
"Daphne, good afternoon," said a distinguished-looking wizard who Harry deduced was Cyrus Greengrass. "Home early?"
"Easy day, so far," said Daphne.
Harry thought about Dieter Berg and had to agree—Dieter Berg had made it easier than Harry anticipated.
"And your friend?" asked Cyrus. Cordelia stood still, and ramrod straight, shifting her eyes as the conversation went back and forth.
"Father, may I present an old Hogwarts classmate, Harry Potter? We've recently become reacquainted and Harry has been very gracious as a kind of consultant. Harry, this is my father, Cyrus Greengrass," Daphne finished.
Harry and Cyrus extended their hands and shook.
"Welcome to our home," said Cyrus. "We're very pleased to meet you."
Cyrus looked to his wife for confirmation but she was keeping her cards close to her vest.
"It's an honor, sir," said Harry. "You were a Chudley Cannon at one time, weren't you?"
"Among others," Cyrus said with a laugh. "The only record I set was, I think, the player most traded in one season."
"Still, that's professional experience," said Harry. "It has to have been invaluable."
"And you didn't play after Hogwarts, did you, Mr. Potter?" asked Cyrus. Daphne looked a little annoyed at her father's forward comment.
"No, sir," said Harry. "When I finished school I wasn't in the best condition, upstairs. I'd have been a menace in competition. Providence had a hand in my decision, I believe. At least, that's what I tell myself. I still fly for fun and play pickup with other old boys and old girls. No time for a commitment to an organized team."
"That's great!" said Cyrus. "Keep your hand in, stay in shape. Having retired from quidditch and business both, I have to fill my days with management of this property and some investments. The manor gets me up on my feet, out and about."
"Glad to hear it, sir," said Harry. "Your family is going to need your presence, and, may I say, leadership, for many years to come."
"I'll try, Harry, I'll try my best," said Cyrus. "No more chat, though, what would you like to drink? Butterbeer, wine, firewhisky, coffee, tea, water? Cider, perhaps?"
Harry looked at Daphne, then Cordelia. Neither spoke, apparently looking to Harry for guidance. Harry chose tea. Can't go wrong with tea.
"Hot tea, black or green, doesn't matter, and a small glass of water, please," said Harry.
"Same," said Daphne.
Cordelia looked disappointed.
"Same," Cordelia agreed.
Cyrus summoned Fluff and had the order placed a minute later, and another house elf arrived a minute or so after that. Everyone spread out around the study, with the exception of Cyrus Greengrass, who returned to his desk chair. Three people took a teacup and a saucer, with a medium-sized water glass nearby, sitting primly on a crocheted doily. Cyrus traded an empty glass for an identical one filled with firewhisky.
Harry sipped his tea, not looking anywhere in particular, his peripheral vision being sufficient for keeping an eye on Cyrus, who was keeping an eye on him. Harry wondered how long Cyrus would be able to keep up his ruse of ignorance of Harry's transaction with Gringotts. Cordelia had given away the game when she told Daphne and Harry that Cyrus had an appointment for the next day at Gringotts, where he intended to give them a piece of his mind.
All well and good. Harry wasn't prepared to trade his lien on Greengrass Manor for a piece of Cyrus' mind. He'd certainly listen if Cyrus had something to say.
"What…activities are you pursuing these days, Mr. Potter?" Cyrus finally asked.
"It's Harry, sir," Harry said. "I registered a little LLC just to have a name to put on the door. I have an office on the ground floor of a building, on that lane near Diagon Alley? I work with one associate, on joint projects of mutual interest. We're trying to get a complete register of our Hogwarts cohort."
"Worthy, I suppose," said Cyrus. "Any particular reason?"
Harry sighed and looked at the ceiling.
"I guess, the best way to put it would be to say, we don't want to find out too late that we left anyone behind."
No one had a follow-up, but Harry looked at Daphne and noticed she was giving him a huge smile.
"And the good works," said Cyrus, starting up again, "There's a living in that?"
"Nahh…that's for fun. The satisfaction of doing it," said Harry. "I bought a building. Got a loan from Gringotts, bought a building, found an elf couple to work with who love renovation work, put the building in shape and rented out two apartments. Those are above my office. Once the building was modestly profitable and I found another building, I showed my loan officer the numbers and was able to buy the second building with another loan from Gringotts. The prospective rents, post renovations, were conservative, based on the current market, and would put the building in positive cash flow almost immediately. That's how it turned out, and this time Gringotts let me secure the loan with the building."
"They turn over enough for you to pay yourself something?" Cyrus asked.
Harry reminded himself Cyrus had been around business for years. Even if he wasn't a very good businessman he might have an understanding of some basic principles.
"My personal expenses are almost negligible. There's a little put aside that I can live on. Anything left over from the buildings is going right back in," Harry said. "I try to stay focused on making the buildings the best I can make them, keeping them fully occupied, and let the money take care of itself. Within reason."
Harry laughed at his post script, which got Daphne laughing along with him.
Cyrus sat up straight in his big leather upholstered chair. He slapped his hand on the inkstained desk blotter and shouted at Harry:
"If you don't give a damn about the money, Potter, what are you doing going behind my back and buying up the mortgage to this manor, which has been in my family for centuries? You're trying to skim the cream from generations of work by the Greengrass family on the cheap. You even roped my oldest child into the scheme. Did you have to seduce her to get her to work for you against the interests of her own family?"
Harry looked straight into Cyrus Greengrass's eyes. He was fighting a desperate internal battle to keep his voice even and his hands from attaching themselves to Cyrus Greengrass's neck. Daphne looked like she was about to cry over the way her own father spoke about her. Cordelia Greengrass looked like she was going into shock.
"Your daughter, Lord Cyrus, is an exemplar of virtue, a faerie queen straight out of the old ballads, so pure she puts newborn lambs in second place. She has done nothing with me but put the interests of the Greengrass FAMILY above every other consideration. That is every, single, member of the Greengrass family. Including her mother and sister."
Harry paused to let the meaning of the last sentences sink in. Cyrus turned redder and redder. Cordelia seemed to recover and turned her eyes on her husband.
"Cyrus?" she asked.
"Yes, Cordelia?"
"Cyrus, is this family in trouble? Are you going to lose the Manor?" Cordelia asked.
"Now, Cordelia, when have we ever…"
"Answer me!" Cordelia nearly shouted. "Answer me, Cyrus, please. Are we in trouble?"
Cyrus didn't say anything. He looked at Harry. He looked at Daphne.
He seemed to be saying, 'Help me out of this.' It was clear he didn't want to say it out loud.
"We have had some reverses on the business side, some investments that ought to have been solid didn't work out…" Cyrus said, looking again at Daphne.
Harry caught Daphne's eye and gave her a single nod. Daphne pulled the Gringotts' letter out of her inside pocket.
"My Dear Lord Greengrass," Daphne read out. "Gringotts is pleased to inform…"
When she finished reading, Daphne handed the parchment to her father, who let it drop on his desk.
"Why?" Cyrus asked.
"Cyrus, what does that mean?" asked Cordelia.
"Why? What are you in this for? Do you want to pick us clean? A vulture, is that what you are Potter?" Cyrus was getting wound up again.
"Cyrus!" Cordelia shouted for the second time. "What. Does. That. Letter. Mean?"
"It means Harry Potter owns this manor, my family seat, and the economic foundation of this family, and he can call in the loan if I'm a single knut short one month and there is not a damned thing we can do about it. That vulture there can throw us out on the street! Are you a man of honor, Potter? Shall we settle this according to the old ways? You went behind my daughter's skirt to take my property with financial manipulation, do you have a backbone or do you only work through witches?"
"Father, will you please shut UP?!" said Daphne, who'd had just about enough. "You had better shut your mouth and listen for a change. Harry may be the last chance you have to get us back to solvency."
Cyrus may have thrown in the towel because he was tired of the fight or because his situation finally clarified for him or because his wife had spoken to him for the first time ever in a manner that suggested she had a spine more than stiff enough to stand up to whatever Cyrus Greengrass could throw at her, but for whatever reason, Cyrus was silent.
Daphne let things settle for a bit before she spoke, her quiet voice commanding attention.
"First of all, Mother, and Father, it would not be a good idea to insult Harry again. How he has the forbearance to sit there and calmly listen to that offensive diatribe I do not know," Daphne began. "I suggest, for the good of the entire Greengrass family, that you treat Harry, Lord Potter, and Lord Black, Order of Merlin, Heir of Ignotus Peverell, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, and a permanent member of the Wizengamot with the respect to which he is entitled. Yes, I said entitled. Because he's powerful enough on his own, but his family magic? Take my word for it, we don't ever want to make the House of Greengrass the enemy of Harry Potter. Alright? Good."
"Now," Daphne went on, "Harry has outlined to me a brilliant plan for working our way out of some difficulties. Listen, please. Be flexible. This is all going to get better. Harry?"
"It's true, you're no longer in hock to Gringotts. I am in hock to Gringotts. You are in hock to me, but I have no interest in your manor. I've got one and I am too busy to take proper care of it. Therefore, a second would be nothing but a distraction, an impediment. The amount I borrowed from the bank is secured with my other buildings. Gringotts doesn't want those back, either. I invest in buildings, Gringotts handles money, understood?" said Harry, stopping there and looking around at the other three.
"Good," Harry said before starting up again.
Over the next thirty minutes he told Cyrus that Cyrus would be bringing Daphne into his confidence on every scrap of business that concerned the Greengrass family. She would have access to every loan and advance that Cyrus was obligated to repay, every asset the family owned that could be put to productive use or sold for cash. Daphne would, in conference with Cyrus and Harry, rank order obligations so that the ones that presented the greatest threat would be paid off first while none would be allowed to become non-performing.
"So if it comes to that, we'll meet with those at the bottom of the list and find a solution. Longer payoff, consolidation, whatever works to keep them on our side while we tackle the higher priorities," said Harry, finishing up.
Cyrus sat staring straight out a window at the late afternoon light for what seemed like a long time. Then he looked at Cordelia. Her face was truly inscrutable, at least to Harry. Maybe her family could read her, but Harry couldn't.
"Fine," said Cyrus.
"Fine. We will give it our best. Merlin knows some of my decisions didn't work out the way I thought they should. But, is it alright to call you Harry? But, Harry, why are you doing this?"
Harry looked at Daphne. Daphne shrugged. 'Up to you,' she seemed to be saying.
Harry sighed.
"While I have the money, power, skill, or whatever else it might take, I cannot sit by and watch while Daphne's beloved sister is sold off to pay old debts."
Cyrus and Cordelia sat upright so quickly they could have been subjected to a substantial electrical shock. Harry looked at Daphne, whose eyes had filled up and overflowed, a single tear now running down both cheeks.
"That's not true!" Cyrus shouted. "Laurent Selwyn will be a perfect match for Astoria. She's dragging her feet a little, it's true, a schoolgirl crush, nothing she can't get over. In the end, she'll do her duty to her family and we'll welcome Laurent as if he were our own, the same as Astoria and Daphne. I can't think of anything that would change my mind on that."
Harry and Daphne shared a moment.
"Tell him," Harry said. "He needs to know. Your mother does, too. They need to know what they are pushing Astoria into."