Chapter Four

As he entered the library, Harry Potter, heard glass shatter. Immediately upon hearing the sound, he withdrew his wand from his holster. With his green eyes, he searched for an intruder, an attacker. However, there was no intruder. Near the fireplace, he noticed the chairs that he and Sirius had sat in a couple of weeks ago discussing Hermione and the fallout of what could happen to her once legislation was approved. That day seemed as if it had happened much longer than the two weeks it had.

Harry lowered his wand when he realized that only Sirius and Remus were in the library. Sirius was standing a few yards from where Remus sat. Harry did not put away his wand, because he recognized that Sirius was in a destructive mood. Strange that. Sirius hadn't thrown or damaged anything in Grimmauld for several months and had never, to Harry's knowledge, thrown anything at anyone, other than Kreacher. Harry scanned the floor of the room from where he stood near the door. His eyes slightly widened when he saw what was left of an alcoholic glass decanter near Remus.

Sirius had thrown something at Remus. Harry nodded in confirmation to himself that he would, indeed, need his wand if Sirius was throwing things at Remus.

"Mate, you're overreacting." Remus said, in a tone calmer than what Harry would have used. Although, his wand was within his jacket pocket, Remus did not withdraw it to cast a shield or spell. Although, Sirius threw a mean tantrum, Remus knew he wouldn't need his wand to protect himself. He sat relaxed yet tired in one of the two arm chairs nearest the fireplace. His elbows rested on the arm rests of the chair as his hands made a steeple, the tips of some of his fingers touched the bottom of his chin. His back rested against the back of the arm chair. He stared directly at his oldest friend with a serene look upon his face. "I didn't tell you about Hermione and Draco's adolescent fling, because it wasn't anyone's business, including yours. I'm certain only a few of the Hogwarts staff ever knew about it."

"Remus," Sirius said, in an impatient tone. "He said seventh year! Which would have been their eighth year seeing as Hermione was helping Harry defeat Voldemort when her seventh year should have happened. And, he was a death eater! I was your substitute Professor for half of their eighth year! How did I not know? I didn't even know they were close friends! Civil acquaintances, at the most is what I thought. Eighth year! She turned nineteen that year." He crossed his arms with his wand firmly in his right hand. He snarled. "Hardly, adolescent."

"Do you hear yourself, right now?" Remus asked, in a tone he reserved for times such as these. The tone drove Dora mad, not in the good way. Remus had learned long ago, that if you kept calm within an argument then the argument would either dissipate or it would irritate the person whom wasn't calm much more so if he had argued with them. Either end was a win for him. "I have not decided whether you are acting childish or like a jealous lover. Merlin, I'm certain that Ronald is taking the news much better than you are."

"Ronald would!" Sirius retorted as he began to pace in front of the fireplace. He growled. "Ronald can't afford the price that will be on Hermione's head."

Harry smiled in realization as to what had truly irritated his godfather about the revelation that Hermione and Draco are close friends, possibly more when they had been in school.

Remus blinked, first in confusion, then finally concern. "Afford? Price? Hermione? Sirius, you're stark raving mad, what in Merlin are you sprouting off about? Hermione isn't something to be bought. I thought you had stopped drinking the hard stuff!"

Harry decided that this would be the time he announced his presence. "Remus. Sirius." He said as he walked further into the library. He levitated an Ottoman from near the sofa on the far wall near many of the bookcases toward the two arm chairs in front of the fireplace. Once the Ottoman was firmly upon the floor, Harry sat down, his elbows near his knees, his hands clasped together, extended toward Remus and Sirius. His wand, still in hand. He looked at Sirius then pointedly at the empty arm chair. Sirius sat stiffly. Harry asked, "You truly didn't tell Remus about what we spoke about?"

Remus arched a questioning eyebrow as he slid to the edge of his seat. His hands moved to grip his knees. "I'm as clueless as to what you spoke about as Dora is to making the Polyjuice Potion."

Sirius sighed as he tried to relax. He recognized that being angry wasn't helping anyone, including Hermione, but he still didn't like what he had saw or learned. Sirius responded to Harry's question. "I wanted to, but you asked me not to tell anyone."

Harry shrugged as he said, "I would have thought you would have told Remus. I asked you not to tell anyone, because I didn't want you talking to Hermione about it before tonight's meeting."

"About the meeting," Remus said, intrigued. "And what you and Sirius spoke about that I do not know about...care to share?"

Sirius interjected, "While we're sharing, care to share why the Malfoys are here? Particularly, Draco Malfoy? A very rich Pureblood wizard aligned, I say aligned very loosely seeing that he's a death eater, with the Order?"

Harry ignored Sirius. Remus rolled his eyes at his best friend, but did not say anything. Harry tapped his chin with his wand twice before he said, "Remus, I'd rather not rehash it all, but I will give you a quick summary before the meeting..."

Meanwhile, in the kitchen

Hermione sat silently with her back firmly against the back of the chair as she continually caressed the back of Crookshanks head and down his neck.

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said in controlled curiosity as she glanced around her son whom sat in between her and the younger woman. "Wherever did you get your unique cat?"

When he heard Narcissa's question, Ron paused in mid-sentence debating Bill about a chess move that had occurred earlier in their game. He snorted. "Mrs. Malfoy, unique is kinder than what it deserves. It's an ugly monster."

Crookshanks hissed at Ron. Then, Crookshanks turned his head toward Draco and Narcissa. Crookshanks purred at Draco then narrowed his yellow eyes at Narcissa. Draco raised his eyebrows at the cat's reaction. "Mum, I don't think Crookshanks likes you. Is this the first time you've met him? Did you ever step on his tail when you visited the eighth year common room?"

"Son." Narcissa said in a chastisement tone. "Remember, always ask one question at a time to a lady. This is the first time I have met Crookshanks." She smiled slyly at the cat. "I did not encounter this creature in the eighth year common room."

"Narcissa," Hermione said, kindly as she answered the question. "I found Crookshanks at the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley while shopping for school supplies for my third year." She kissed Crookshanks on the top of his head, squarely in between his ears. Crookshanks purred. Ron made a gagging motion. "Ron doesn't like Crookshanks, because of an ordeal that happened in third year between his pet rat, Scabbers and Crookshanks. Crooks is half-Kneazle and half-cat, quite an intelligent animal."

"Scabbers?" Narcissa said, stunned. "Isn't that..."

"Yes," Ron said, irritable. "Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail. Can we not discuss this before we eat? Thinking about Scabbers makes me ill."

Narcissa smiled slightly, "I'm certain that we can agree that there are better topics of discussion available, however I do have, at the least, one more question." She glanced towards Hermione. "What was the ordeal that Peter and this creature had? I suppose it was more than a cat and mouse ordeal."

Draco answered, having been told the story by Hermione. "Crookshanks tried to catch Wormtail in his rat form to deliver him to Sirius. Crookshanks and Sirius' grim form communicated, somehow. Crookshanks tried to help Sirius get to Wormtail seeing as Sirius was the only one to know the truth about Wormtail, at the time."

Narcissa made a slight noise of surprise as she said, "Ah, how strange a cat and dog getting along." She paused. "Perhaps not so strange, after all." She made eye contact with Crookshanks. "Miss Granger, did say you were smart. Intelligence far above a normal cat, perhaps on par with some wizards with the looks of a miniature lion. Did you say he was half-Kneazle?" Crookshanks hissed. Narcissa arched an eyebrow at the cat as she smiled. "You were smart enough to see through not one, but two Animagus forms. How impressive." Narcissa looked at Hermione then Ron. "Pity that no one thought to cast an irreversible freezing charm upon the rat." Crookshanks made a loud noise that was strangled and unhappy before he hissed again. He swatted the air with his right paw to the right then left then downward. Hermione cooed in his ear and soothed him with soft caresses. Narcissa grimaced as if in sudden, momentary pain. She added, "I quite detested Peter being in my home."

"Mother." Draco said, in warning. "Let's not speak of that time."

"Freezing charm?" Bill asked, curious. "What would the freezing charm have done?"

"Oh," Narcissa said, in an innocent tone. "A freezing charm would have frozen the rat. Peter detested being cold."

"Tell me about it," Ron bemoaned. "I couldn't keep clean socks, because of him."

Draco tried not to laugh. He failed, though. He laughed loudly. He ignored the gentle right hand of his mother on his left wrist that rested against the table. Although, she wasn't the evil woman that many had believed her to be, she still had her strange quirks. Decorum was one of them. Draco did not share many of her views, anymore. He was with friends, civil acquaintances, and a friendly enemy (Ron). Draco said, "Mother, don't. I am a grown man who is now the head of the family. If I want to laugh, I will laugh. If you prefer not to witness me living life, you can return to the Manor and write Father. I'm certain that he will need a reprieve from reading hate mail while living his life in a cell."

"Draco." She warned, quietly as she extracted her hand from her son.

"What will it be?" He asked, intentionally ignoring her warning. "Stay and let me be or leave? Your presence isn't needed at the meeting. You are here, because Potter feels indebted to you, because of your role in the Final Battle. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Draco, I raised you better than to berate me in polite company."

Draco laughed, harshly, "You raised me to be vulnerable to ideology sprouted by Voldemort."

Her skin paled a shade lighter. She said as she looked around as if the walls could hear her, "You mustn't say his name in this home. This house feeds off dark magic."

Hermione placed her left hand on top of his right hand which rested upon his right thigh. He turned his palm over to hold her hand. She gently squeezed his hand twice before gently removing her hand to place it back in her lap under Crookshanks.

Molly had had quite enough of her distant cousin. "Cissy, dear, be a pretty doll and shut up. This home is no longer the home it was when we were children."

Narcissa bowed her head slightly before she glanced to her son then Molly. "That is true, however, dark magic leaves permanent scars, permanent traces. I feel something quite dark here."

Hermione said as Crookshanks jumped from her lap. He settled on the floor near her feet under the table. "Perhaps, what you feel is a curse that your grandfather placed on the tapestry. Sirius spoke of it earlier."

"Ah," Narcissa said as she nodded once. "I'd forgotten about that curse, never touch it. If I were you, I wouldn't be in the room, just to be safe."

Hermione shook her head as she said, "I don't understand what the curse is supposed to do to me."

"My grandfather, Arcturus, had a peculiar sense of humor. He designed the curse to attack the wand hand of a Muggleborns regardless of which hand was placed upon the tapestry. I heard my mother and Aunt Wally talk about it. Grandfather was concerned that Uncle Orion showed much more interest in a Muggleborn Ravenclaw named, I think, Warren, than was allowed. Grandfather wanted to punish Uncle Orion by taking the magic from any Muggleborn, Uncle Orion dared to bring home. Friend or romantic, it didn't matter to Grandfather. The tapestry test as it is known to be called, within my generation, wasn't a test per se, but if Uncle Orion or anyone else had been stupid enough to bring a Muggleborn home, Grandfather would have forced the Muggleborn to touch it. Within the hour after touching the tapestry, the Muggleborn's fingers and hand to the wrist of their wand hand would die and eventually fall off. There is no counter curse after the hour mark. Please," Narcissa said in a genuine tone. "Miss Granger never touch it."

"I already have." Hermione said, bored. "Several times, over the years, as a matter of fact."

Narcissa's pale eyebrows rose higher than Draco had ever seen them. His mother was an expert on masking her facial expressions. An expression of such shock would, in her eyes, be beneath her. "You what?" Narcissa stated, bewildered. "Are you certain you're a Muggleborn?"

Suddenly, the boredom left Hermione. White hot indignation ignited as Hermione heard Narcissa ask such a question about her blood status. Instead of deigning a vocal reply, Hermione roughly slid her right sleeve up to her elbow. She flashed the hideous scar that Bellatrix had "given" her at Narcissa. With her left index finger, Hermione pointed to the scar. Draco flinched. The four Weasley men-Ron, Bill, Fred, and George-stopped their conversations among themselves and squirmed uncomfortable at what unfolded. Crookshanks hissed as he re-positioned himself on Hermione's lap. On the other side of the kitchen, Molly and Ginny paused their preparations for the meal. Everyone stared, not knowing what to say or do.

"I-I apologize, Miss Granger." Narcissa said, remorseful. "I was out of line. I only asked, because my grandfather..." She paused, momentarily before she continued. "My grandfather thoroughly tested the curse, oh Uncle Orion never brought anyone home, but Grandfather wanted to be certain the curse worked, if Uncle Orion had decided to be rebellious. If you search the archives at St. Mungos for the mid-nineteen fifties, you will find Muggleborns who arrived at the hospital obliviated with various stages of injury of the curse. Burnt fingers, hands, decaying flesh, hands falling off at the wrist. Mother said that he had distant Halfblood relatives and one unrelated Halfblood come visit to test it out. The Halfblood relative who was not a Black, well...her fingertips were burnt, but grandfather stopped the curse with the counter curse, because she was the daughter of a business associate. This is why I asked are you sure you are a Muggleborn."

Bill interjected, "I worked on the tapestry to break the curse. I was able to break through a layer of the curse, however when I began work at Gringotts, Dumbledore took over. He may have broken it."

Hermione was finished discussing or hearing about the blasted curse. She did not reveal to those listening that she had touched it before Bill had worked on it. Hermione changed the subject slightly, "Narcissa, you said that you felt something dark here. Could it be the scar your sister left in my arm by her cursed knife?"

Firmly, Narcissa said, "Bella, used no cursed knife against you."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure, she did." Hermione said as she flashed the Mudblood scar again.

Both Narcissa and Draco flinched. Narcissa said, "Bella did, indeed, torture you with a knife. The knife she used was an ancient heirloom of the Dagworth Family. The Dagworth family heirlooms cannot be cursed with dark magic and the remaining heirlooms are not of a magical nature, although still high quality. I've no doubt that Bella cursed you, but it was not with the knife."

"Mum," Draco said. "I doubt she wants to hear how much the knife is worth. Cursed or not, that knife hurts."

Narcissa nodded as she stated, "I apologize."

"Dagworth?" Fred said, confused. "That name sounds familiar."

Proud of himself that he remembered something from his sixth year potions class, Ron said, "Hector Dagworth-Granger did something important with potions. I remember Slughorn going on about him and thinking Hermione was related to him."

"Hector Dagworth-Granger was the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers." Hermione stated. "I am not related. I checked his family tree. He was a Halfblood born to a Pureblood mother, Muggleborn father, Milton MacGranger. Rumor had it, that his mother refused to take his father's name, because she wanted to keep her pureblood name, they compromised with Milton dropping the Mac in MacGranger and combining the two names. All three had Dagworth-Granger as their surname. I traced his direct family line and mine back for centuries. There was no connection, none whatsoever."

Molly came to stand behind the twins. She swatted George's hand from the basket of rolls as she said, "Dagworth was once a prestigious pureblood family. But, it died out. Well, the name did. The Dagworth women throughout the centuries married into other families hence the bloodline remains, but the house does not. The current day, Black family descends from a Dagworth-Black marriage. And, the Dagworth-Black line lives on in any family that a Black witch married into such as the Malfoy and Weasley families."

"Quite accurate." Narcissa said.

"Mum, when can we eat?" Ron asked as he glanced upward at his mother.

"When Harry says we can eat. Not a moment sooner." She waggled her finger at Ron. "We're waiting on others to arrive."

"Perhaps, this was why Harry suggested that there be no meal tonight." Ginny said as she sat down beside Hermione.

"What? No meal?" Ron said, outraged. He glanced around the table then the room. "Well, it isn't a meal: I see no dessert. How can we not have dessert?"

As she held her mid-section, Ginny laughed. "There's dessert, Ron. Tonks sent..."

The Weasley men and Draco said, "No!"

Molly smiled as she placed her hands on her hips. "Now boys, Tonks sent us a perfectly good and tasty dessert. I expect you all to compliment her when you see her next."

Draco said, "Yes, ma'am."

Her sons said, "Yes, mum."

Satisfied with the boys' answer, Molly went to the other side of the room to check on something for the meal.

Fred whispered to George, "Mum is mental."

George whispered to Fred, "She must be on one of her diets again."

Ron shuddered as he whispered to the twins, "Going on a diet is mental."

Hermione chuckled at the simultaneous reaction that the boys had to the thought that Tonks had prepared a dessert again. She quietly asked Ginny who sat to her right, "Did Tonks send her favorite bakery biscuits?"

Ginny whispered as the boys began debating different types of chess moves. "She sent Remus' favorite."

Hermione said in a gleeful tone, "Oh, chocolate then."

The twins began to tell Bill and Ron about their newest line of Day Dream potions while Hermione and Draco whispered a side conversation about what the twins revealed about the line. Molly renewed warming charms to the food as she removed the bakery biscuits from the oven. The kitchen door opened, but no one glanced towards it. Crookshanks walked towards it, but did not leave the room.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny said as she leaned forward to look around Hermione. "Earlier when you talked about dark magic being here, I'd like to respectfully disagree. There have been several curse breakers and cleaners work on this home over the last several years, not counting all of the spells cast by Order members to remove dark curses and objects. I understand what you said about scars being here, but I think that's all is here, the remnants of the past."

"No dear, what I feel...forgive me, I do not mean to insult this home, my ancestral family's home, at all. I have been exposed to dark magic since the womb. As much as my son hates for me to mention it," She glanced at Draco who sat with his back to the back of the chair to aid his mother into looking at Ginny as she spoke. Hermione did something similar in order for Ginny to see Narcissa. Hermione and Draco ceased their side conversation as they listened to Narcissa and Ginny. "The Dark Lord was in my home for well over a year. I can detect dark magic even though I have rarely dabbled in the dark arts, myself. There is something extremely dark within these walls."

Intrigued, Harry asked once he was standing behind Ron. "What do you feel, Narcissa?"

Harry's voice alerted the room to his presence. When the Weasley's, Malfoys, and Hermione looked to Harry, they realized that others had arrived as well. Remus and Sirius had returned. Charlie, Neville, and Andromeda had arrived. Percy had yet to arrive. Andromeda, Charlie, Neville, and Remus chose their seats. Charlie sat in the chair on the other side of Bill. Remus sat in the chair on the other side of Ginny. Andromeda sat in the chair across from Remus, leaving one chair in between her and Ron. On the other side of Andromeda, Neville sat down. Harry sat down in the empty chair across from Ginny and in between Ron and Andromeda.

Seeing her sister, Andromeda, in this kitchen brought many happy childhood memories to her mind, but she quickly squashed them. Narcissa truthfully replied, "I do not know."

In reluctant agreement with her baby sister, Andromeda said, "I feel it, too. Sirius, can you feel it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes as he walked toward Ginny. He made a motion with his thumb that made Ginny roll her eyes and stand up. She went to help her mother. Sirius sat down in between Hermione and Remus, across from Harry. He answered truthfully, "All I've ever felt in this house is dark magic. You'll have to be more specific, love." He leaned backward in the chair as he balanced the chair on it's back two legs. "Between the Order and curse breakers that Harry and I've hired over the years, I'd say that a great deal of the dark magic of the Black family is gone. Certainly, there are traces and scars left behind, but active dark magic? Other than the tapestry and Walburga's portrait, the truly dark stuff is gone. We may have a Boggart, somewhere left behind, but compared to what most of us have encountered in the wars, a Boggart is child's play."

Uncharacteristically, Narcissa said in a petulant tone, "Aunt Wally's portrait is not dark magic. It's the same magic that was used for the Hogwarts portraits. I was here when the portrait was activated. It was the day after Aunt Wally died."

Andromeda ignored her sister's defense of their Aunt's portrait. Curiously, she asked, "Why do you think it has dark magic, Sirius?"

Sirius bent his elbows and placed his hands on the back of his neck in a relaxed pose while he continued to balance his chair on the back two legs of it. He grinned as he replied, "Walburga is in it."

All except Narcissa laughed at the comment made by Sirius about his mother.

Draco continued to smile at the comment after he had finished his laugh. He agreed with Sirius. He didn't remember much about the visits that his mother subjected him to when he was small, but he remembered not liking how cruel Aunt Wally was to him. The only highlight to those visits he had long forgotten: playing with her pet. Aunt Wally died when he was four. He remembered hearing his mother tell his father and grandfather, Abraxas, that Aunt Wally had died of a broken heart: her husband, Orion, and 'only' son Regulus had died four years prior and her pet disappeared days before her death, likely kidnapped and tortured by muggles. No wonder Draco had grown into a bigoted brat. He had been conditioned as such from an early age. He had learned the hard way to become his own man. He was prejudiced, slightly still, where it concerned class and social status, but not blood status. The woman to his right had proven that blood status mattered not. Draco said, "I hated that woman. I was small when she died, but I still hated her. She's quite possibly the first person I hated."

Narcissa exclaimed, "Draco! That's no way to speak about your Aunt Wally. May her soul rest in peace."

Sirius roared in laughter, but did not say anything.

Andromeda looked at Draco then Narcissa then back to Draco, "Nephew, hardly anyone loved Aunt Walburga. Crazy Bella didn't even like her, but that may because Riddle liked, well as much as Riddle could like, Aunt Walburga before and during the first war. Riddle was a frequent guest here and at my parent's house before I was disowned and most likely afterward. Bella's obsession with Riddle started at an early age. I'm certain that Narcissa and Regulus were the only ones to truly love Aunt Walburga. Uncle Orion tolerated her."

Hermione said cheerfully, "Hi, Neville. Thank you for coming." He nodded and waved in greeting as he smiled. She looked at Andromeda. "Andromeda, it's good to see you. I'm glad that you're here." Hermione glanced to Harry then back to Andromeda. "I didn't know you would be here tonight."

Andromeda, although an Order member during both wars, did not attend Order meetings held at Grimmauld Place. To Hermione's knowledge, Andromeda hadn't been inside the home since she had been blasted from the tapestry. Hermione hadn't visited with Andromeda in months. They corresponded once or twice a week by owl post.

"I made an exception to my rule." Andromeda said. She added, with a small laugh. "I'm surprised that I wasn't cursed when I walked through the front door. I expected it."

Sirius raised his hand level to his shoulder as he said, "Eh, those curses were removed when I returned here for the first time after I ran away as a teenager. Took me two years after escaping Azkaban to come back here and that was out of necessity for the Order."

"What curses?" Hermione asked.

"Walburga had curses and hexes waiting on anyone she had blasted off the tapestry for whenever or if they were ever brave enough to step foot within the house again. She must have forgotten or didn't care that as the heir, I would know such things and would take precaution. When I was a child, not quite old enough to attend Hogwarts, a distant disowned relative wasn't so lucky." Sirius shivered at the memory.

"Speaking of you being the heir," Draco said, uncomfortable, but curiosity overrode any embarrassment he could feel. "I've long wondered how you became head of the Black family if Aunt Wally and Uncle Orion disowned you. Also, I've wondered, how you made Potter your heir when you took your veiled vacation. My understanding growing up was that Cousin Regulus had been the heir, but when he died, Aunt Wally made the next male born to a Black the heir. Don't misunderstand me, please. I don't want to be the Black heir. I'm curious as to how you were the heir when you were disowned."

Blushing in mortification, Narcissa said in a hushed whisper that everyone heard. "Draco, stop."

Sirius laughed at Narcissa's mortification. "While in Azkaban," He answered, Draco, even though he was still irritated with him. Sirius, would not admit to himself why he was still irritated with the younger wizard. "I had wondered who Walburga had chosen to be her heir. Because, in all actuality, whatever you would have inherited would have been from her not the actual Black family seat and such. Walburga disowned me when I left at sixteen. Dad, on the other hand, the head of the House of Black, never cast the disowning enchantment. Seeing as I was incarcerated, however wrongly, I was barred from inheritance while imprisoned. Obviously can't take the family seat if in Azkaban. What I've always found peculiar is that the estate should have went to the ministry until my release seeing as I had no spare and I was alive it didn't move to the Malfoys. The estate can't go to the next born male until after there is a death and there is no spare, but there was no release date for me, wrongly incarcerated and all."

Remus calmly said, "Sirius, we know. Wrongly incarcerated. Continue."

Sirius nudged his friend with his right shoulder as he continued. "I did wonder how with the spare dead, why the ministry didn't take it for themselves. If Regulus had been alive, he would have temporarily inherited until I was released. My wrongful sentence to Azkaban is water under the proverbial bridge," Sirius paused when he noticed Remus giving him a warning look. "But let's face it, according to the Ministry during that time, I should have died on that island." He shrugged. "Seeing as I did inherit, I was able to bequeath the estate to Harry and upon my death, he would and did become the head of the Black family. When I returned from that veiled vacation the inheritance and Will was disqualified seeing as I am alive. Everything reverted back to me. As it is now, Harry is my heir. My spare is Teddy. If something were to happen to them, you would inherit the Black family seat seeing as you're the next living born wizard in the Black family. But, you couldn't sit on both the Malfoy and Black seat, you'd have to choose one or the other. This is all hypothetical seeing as I'm not going anywhere and what are the chances that something happens to both Harry and Teddy?"

Draco furrowed his brow as he glanced to his mother. Why had she told him that he was fourth in line to the Black family when he would be, according to what Sirius had said, third in line? Shortly after the Final Battle, the day which Sirius had returned from the veil, Draco had stepped into the role as the head of the Malfoy family. Narcissa had performed a charm showing Draco that he was fourth in line to the Black family. His mother was quite distinguished in charms. How had she botched the charm? It was of no consequence, because he had been genuine in his statement that he did not want to become the Black heir.

"Family seats." Hermione said, in a tone of wonder. "Sirius, I could kiss you."

"Any other time, love, I'd say go for it," Sirius said, darkly. "But, I'm not one to share a witch. You've already kissed one wizard today, not even an hour ago."

"Sirius," Remus and Harry said simultaneously.

Those who were not there earlier in the day glanced around the table for others to explain, but no one enlightened them. What could one say? Ron shook his head and shrugged as it to say that he hadn't been the wizard whom Hermione had kissed.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she ignored Sirius and Remus, but looked at Harry as she said. "The Wizengamot seats. Why didn't we, I mean I, think of this before this moment? It could have saved us a lot of time as well as potentially halting legislation!"

Harry smiled widely as if he had just caught a snitch for the first time. He inhaled and exhaled a breath that released the stress that he had held tightly in his chest since Hermione had shared the news about the amendment of the archaic law. Harry said, gleefully, "After we eat, we'll discuss that Hermione during the meeting. Percy should be here by then. Molly, if you're ready, we may begin the meal you and Ginny prepared for us."

Molly and Ginny levitated plates and silverware to set the table. They turned then levitated sides not yet placed on the table to the table to be placed upon it.

"Finally, we eat." Ron said, incorrigibly as he greedily reached for a serving spoon in a bowl of mashed potatoes.

With his right hand, George obtained the basket of bread that he had been eyeing for almost an hour. He placed two rolls onto his plate and one in his left hand. He took a bite of the one in his left hand and groaned in ecstasy. Fred snatched the basket from George a moment before Ron's fingers touched the basket.

A silvery wolf appeared to Remus. "Moony, meet me at St. Mungos. Leave Teddy with a sitter. Maybe, Hermione and Sirius will watch him if they're not busy? There's been an accident at work."

Chaos ensued.

Office of the Minister of Magic

Ministry of Magic, Great Britain

Percy Weasley was not cut out for undercover assignments. A cloak and dagger, sort of wizard, he was not; even though, he currently was entrusted with an invisibility cloak and important mission. He was straight-laced, straight-forward, and simply put...a rule follower. He had been Head Boy, after all. Let's not discuss that lapse of sanity, his head of house had once by making Draco Malfoy, the Head Boy of the Eighth years. What was she thinking back then? Seriously, what had she been thinking? The boy had been fresh from the Wizengamot sentencing of probation and graduation from Hogwarts as a requirement of that probation, no less. Percy shook his head. What was he, Percy, thinking, thinking about such things when he was supposed to be on a covert operation?

Undercover Operative was not on his meticulous resume. But, he was a Gryffindor, though. And, he would, contrary to his past behavior, once upon a time, would do anything for his family. His family, included Hermione Granger and, he hoped one day, Penelope Clearwater. As Deputy Minister of Magic, he could not extend his assistance in delaying, hindering, or overturning new or old legislation. During research of his own, he had found disturbing news. He couldn't extend such assistance, but someone could have. And, if what he had just read in one of the classified files that he had magically duplicated as he had thought about the status of Minerva's sanity from three years ago, he knew that there were a few that could lend their assistance after cutting red tape and jumping through Ministry loopholes to reclaim something that was rightfully theirs.

Percy froze when he heard the voices of the Minister, Nymphadora, and Auror Slater. He had expected them to use Auror Slater's office, several floors below this one, for the performance review. He had scheduled them to use Slater's office. One of his job duties was to schedule performance reviews that required the presence of the employee, the employee's direct supervisor, and a representative from the office of the Minister of Magic. Percy had intentionally scheduled the performance review on a Saturday evening, because the cleaning and security crew were scheduled each Saturday night to clean and evaluate security measures of the office of the Minister of Magic. The office of the Minister of Magic, included three offices and two conference rooms. The three offices were the Minister's, his own, and one that was shared by their assistants. Their assistant's office was an open floor plan with three desks that shared a waiting area. The assistant's office contained doors to the two conference rooms, the Minister's office, and his own.

The cleaning and security crews were due in ten minutes. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. A dark red curl snapped away from the hair staying charm he performed this morning. He forced himself to inhale and exhale, slowly and as quietly as possible. He could explain his presence to the cleaning and security crew easily. He was Deputy Minister of Magic, mind you, but he couldn't explain himself to the Minister. He had told the Minister that he had a family thing tonight and couldn't oversee Auror Slater and Nymphadora. He hadn't lied, but neither was he forthcoming with details, either.

What would he say when the Minister walked inside his office and saw his Deputy Minister of Magic perusing his classified files? Percy had only been able to access them, because he had a certain badge that belonged to the Ministry of Magic's Solitary Consultant: Harry Potter. Years ago, it had taken a chunk out of his ego, when Percy realized that Harry Potter as an Auror-Trainee had a higher security clearance than he as Deputy Minister of Magic. Only Harry had a security clearance higher than the Minister; it had been one of the many perks Harry had been given with his Order of Merlin, First Class. The clearance would expire upon Harry's death or two-hundredth birthday, whichever occurred first. Harry hadn't ever used the clearance to go above the Minister. Only the Minister and Harry had a higher clearance than Percy. However, today, Percy was thankful for Harry's security clearance. Tonight, when Percy scanned Harry's badge had been the very first time in which the perk had been used.

Percy audibly sighed in relief when he heard a crash. He, then heard, Nymphadora apologizing loudly and yowling in pain. He strained his ears to hear what the Minister and Auror Slater said, but he couldn't hear. Suddenly, he heard another, louder crash, perhaps her body to the floor? He retrieved an extendable ear from his pocket. He clearly heard the Minister ask if she was alright. In reply, Nymphadora cried and yelped in pain. Then, she said, "Minister Shacklebolt, Auror Slater, I think I broke my foot. Alert St. Mungos, please." She whined in pain. "I'll alert my husband." She paused. "Expecto Patronum."

Percy knew that he owed Nymphadora lemon biscuits from the muggle bakery she loved. He had thought her accident to be caused by her clumsiness, but when he heard one particular word, he realized that she had saved him from being caught, saved the mission, and perhaps saved Hermione and other Muggleborns being subjected to the upcoming legislation.

Nymphadora never called the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt...Minister. It was, always, no matter how many requests for her to address the Minister by his title, she used the names, Kings or Kingsley. If she wanted to seem professional, which was rare, she would say Shacklebolt.

Just as he, Percy, always called Nymphadora, Nymphadora instead of Tonks or Dora.

He truly hoped that she hadn't broken her foot, but a broken foot for the sake of the operation would be worth it.

A broken reputation and career for him would be worth it, too.

He wouldn't necessarily like it, but it would be worth it.

A life over a career?

The Percy of today would choose life. He was quite proud of the person he had become. The Percy, from yesteryear, may have chosen his career and reputation.

The lives and futures of many Muggleborn witches rested, in that moment, on Percy Weasley.

He held the stack of duplicated classified files against his chest with his left arm. His last thought before he disappeared under the invisibility cloak was: Dear Merlin, save them all.

Author's Note: Merry Christmas Eve to those who recognize/celebrate the holiday! Thank you to everyone who is reading, reviewing, adding to alerts, and adding to favorites. I am humbled at the amount of feedback and interest in this story. From the bottom of my writer-elf heart, thank you. This writer-elf heart is loving this story as I write it and tweak the current outline. I hope that you are enjoying reading it. I'd love to ready any theories, comments, or suggestions that you may have. Look for the next chapter soon.