AN: Eh... It's a short chapter this week.

Sorry.

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Having spent most of his days locked inside the room. He barely goes out, only to dine, which was hardly. It's been roughly a week since residing at the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry often checks up on him, to Mortimer's surprise. They would sometimes go ahead into Diagon Alley. Exploring the many shops, buying their school supplies and occasionally get lost with in the world.

It was odd how the two had manage to get along so well. It probably has something to do with the absence of both Granger and Weasley, that allowed Potter to forget the Slytherin, Gryffindor, rivalry.

Their electives this year were quite different. While Potter had chosen Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. Mortimer had instead chosen Study of Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies. Mainly because anything revolving the future frightened Mortimer. Then there was the lack of patience when dealing with animals. Besides, he's lived his whole life in the muggle world. If anything, this was more of an advantage, an easy grade.

Mentioning grades, he's lost his title to Granger for highest marks. To the disappointment of his peers, Mortimer was only happy to pass with O's and E's after receiving his final exams.

Reading over his list, he had already purchased a new set of robes, cauldrons, inks and quills. Most books that were required were ones he already had. With the exception of Ancient Rune Made Easy. There was also Rune Dictionary. And not forget, Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles, that remained.

It was at this time that Mortimer found himself alone. Harry had offered to come but declined the company. He wasn't much for socializing at the moment.

Not after receiving Aunt Cissy's letter.

The day after he had sent his letter, she immediately responded.

My Precious Mortimer,

I can not express the relief I have from receiving your letter. I am glad you are safe. But I am also disappointed by careless actions. I am heartbroken and sadden that you find me untrustworthy. Have I mistreated you to deserve such behavior? Regardless, I have spoken to your Uncle, he is very much upset. He believes it is best you remain at the Leaky Cauldron for the duration of the summer. I do not agree and want nothing more but for you to return. Draco misses you greatly and sends his best.

However, there is an important matter we must discuss regarding your inheritance. Please, I ask that come to Gringotts at the 21st of August, around noon.

I await for your arrival.

Treasure you always,

Aunt Cissy.

Since then, she hasn't contacted him. Giving the space he's always wanted. Yet, couldn't find any way to enjoy it. It was upsetting and very much lonely. He half expected at least something from Draco, he would've been satisfied with a howler. But no, as there was only silence, which made him feel worse. Not knowing his true feelings, he wasn't sure how to approach him once the year begins.

Keeping his head low, Mortimer saunters throughout the streets of diagon alley. Heading towards gringotts, his hands were in a sweat, just like his whole body.

He wonders how Aunt Cissy will react to him when she sees what he's done to himself. That aside, he was interested in knowing about his inheritance and the kind of business he had to deal with. A mere guess, it has something to do with Sirius Black, the escaped convict, out and roaming the streets, he believes Black might somehow try and take back some of the fortune that was handed down to him.

It was still a working theory.

Drawing near to Gringotts, he can clearly see his Aunt waiting for him. She appeared to be scanning the streets, for him, unaware that he was standing right in front of her.

"Aunt Cissy?" Mortimer calls.

Her head snapping to the voice, eyes widening in shock as she paces slowly. "Mortimer…" Sounding faint, she observes his horrid appearance. "You-Your hair – Those clothes! What have you done to yourself?"

Mortimer was taken aback, his Aunt running towards him, she held him close, caressing his trimmed hair. "Have you been sleeping well? Eating?" Scrunching her face, she shakes her head. "No, of course you haven't. I was foolish to think you'd be responsible."

Considering her words for a moment, there was a lack of response. And Instead of apologizing with a few sentences, he rushes her. Wrapping his arms around her, he embraces her in a hug that expresses his remorse.

Calm on the surface, Narcissa was quick to return the gesture. The same loving face that comforted Mortimer, she smiles, yet the disappointment was there. "Come, there will be more time to talk. But first, we have business to attend."

Nodding his head, he follows her into the white-marbled building. Awaiting for what's to come.

"Mrs. Malfoy," The nodding banker says. "We've been expecting you. And I see you've brought the heir – Good."

"Let us keep this brief, shall we?" Her chin high, she spoke sternly. "We are here to see Alroka."

"Yes, I am aware." The goblin, setting down a plate of gold, dusts himself off before hoping off his desk. His clapping footsteps as he ushers them in one of the outstretched hallways. "Come, this way…"

It was deadly quiet. Passing by various of high-rise doors that we completely shut from the other side. Mortimer felt nervous about their so-called business. Narcissa's serious, blank stare didn't help the matter. For every sound could be heard, their tracking feet traveled as the goblin led them across the rows of passages.

Mortimer stared at her and whispered. "Does this have something to do with Sirius Black?"

Narcissa becomes tense, refusing to meet his gaze. "Not now."

He fell silent, realizing he wasn't going to any answers, not until they've reached a more private setting.

Eventually, they're guide stopped at the tenth door on the right side. One knock, and a loud growling voice emerges from the inside. "Enter!"

The incoming voice inviting them in, they were greeted by a mess of various folders of paperwork, open bags of galleons and gold were thrown in a pile in the back of the corner. Heavy scriptures resting on the floor, pages hanging from ceilings, bookshelves that was used more for storing weapons.

"Ah, Mrs. Malfoy," Coming to face Alroka once more, he hasn't seemed to change from their last encounter. "And Mr. Black," Eyeing the boy, there was interest in his long grin. "I am pleased to see you are alive and well."

Their escort, leaving, both Narcissa and Mortimer enter as the doors gently closes from behind. Coming closer, they were offered a seat that they took graciously.

While she sat, her back was straightened, she peers at the goblin. "Yes. Well, we aren't here to discuss my nephew's well being, are we?"

Setting down his quill, Alroka, scratches his chin. "No we are not." Letting a small grumble. "To business then – As I have previously stated, I have done my absolute best to ensure your nephew is taken care off." A short pause. "I can now proudly say that we've come to a result."

"Go on." Narcissa motioned, intrigued she waited for Alroka to continue.

Eagerly nodding, he hops off his chair. Going on the left side of the room, he grabs a ladder. "Hearing about the recent developments…" the ladder is positioned against the bookshelf, where Alroka searches for a rolled up parchment that was tied with a silver bow. "It would appear that the unlawful actions of Sirius Black has created an opening for your nephew. With the older Black, now on the run, along with being a wanted criminal… he, by default, is unqualified and forfeits his rights as head of house. And therefore, Mortimer Black can be amenable."

Skeptic, Narcissa suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "This all sounds too good to be true."

Catching her tone, Alroka presents them a written order statement and proceeds to inform them. "Yes. It certainly does." A brief pause. "Unfortunately, as I also stated, your nephew is far too young to be the sole owner of, not only the Black Vault, but as well as the Gaunts and Slytherin. The responsibility alone can go to someone much older."

"Than what do you suggest?" Narcissa asked flatly, crossing one leg over the other.

Clearing his throat, Alroka pointed at one of the paragraphs. "That all depends." He asks. "Who has legal rights over him?"

Her chin high, she answers. "My nephew's mother is my sister. He is my responsibility."

"Ah~ But you are a Malfoy, are you not?" He questions, reading further down the lines. "Should this not go towards your husband?"

"Only if I were dead." Her eyebrow narrowed. "My Aunt was very specific when it came to her house. She demanded only a Black to oversee any heirs that may bore fruit. Seeing as I am currently the only Black that isn't in chains, I have legal rights over him."

"Very good, Mrs. Malfoy." Nodding his head the goblin banker, reaches into his desk drawer. "I have made a written contract giving you conservatorship over your nephew. Once of age, he of course will take over – It is the better alternative than simply waiting for Mr. Black to be released, or you know, die."

A silent sigh, Narcissa was curious about another matter. "And what of the properties? I recall Aunt Walburga having a home, Borough of Islington, I believe."

Alroka offers her the settlement, "It is all written here." Retrieving a quill, he extends. "Any properties belonging to the head of house will hence forth be passed down to your nephew. For now, you are to be the keeper of such structures."

As his Aunt read through the contract, Mortimer sat back, observing in disbelief. Inherited his ancestry vaults, there was pressure running among his blood. What he thought was avoidable, in the end, came tumbling down on him, for being the only remaining Black amongst his family, it was now up to him take the helm. Truthfully speaking, it was the last thing in his mind. Survival is all that mattered as there was no point in celebrating. In a few years, none of it will matter when the Dark Lord arrives, for there won't be anyone left to bask in the glory.

Mortimer rotates his neck, emitted a rough noise. He hesitates, fidgeting his fingers, curling anxiously around one another in what Narcissa could tell was his nervous habit. "Is something the matter?" Her voice soft, more importantly, concerned.

Shaking his head, he answered no. It was a lie. Wanting to be honest, she won't have it. Upright refuse to let him simply walk away and pretend he wasn't a Black. The title was too important for her to let the opportunity slide.

He stares, dreading as the quill touches the parchment, moving in motion as his Aunt signs above the line, a confirmation that will give her full control over him and the estate of what was once her house. He knows he should be happy, ecstatic. But there was none of that, no sort of satisfaction, non-existent pride spreading all across his body. Rather, apprehensive, worried, the contract being currently signed by his Aunt, is visible proof that stated Mortimer as legit, no longer a bastard, as some had stated, but a legitimized member of a predominant family that's lived for many generations.

Only now it's been officiated on paper.

Her signature complete, Alroka takes the contract before rolling it up and concealing it his drawer. "I believe that concludes our business. Should any issues arise, I will contact you immediately. However, I am fairly confident that won't be the case."

There was a lack of confidence as the goblin spoke. Puzzled, Mortimer asked. "What will happen once Sirius Black is captured?"

The room becomes silent. Alroka, no longer grinning, by contrast, is dour, his mouth twitches. Narcissa, almost sharing the same expression, lips pressed into a thin line.

A strange reaction, they treated him name as if it were an ill-omened. It was the same expression whenever someone said the Dark Lord's name. You'd think he's yelled out Voldemort to the skies with the odd looks he was receiving from the two.

In a low pitch, Narcissa said. "He won't be captured. He'll be dead on the spot before ever being escorted back to Azkaban. The guards there are angry, more than ever. . ."

Alroka agrees to this. "Yes. Should the worse happen to him, you won't have to worry about you birthright being opposed."

His hands tightened. This has nothing to do with it, the vaults, the house, titles, it didn't mean anything to him besides being a burden. A boy who wants to be left alone, the attention he's gained was one he could live without. They stare at him as if he were a lottery ticket. It made him feel low, knowing that they see him as an opportunity, and not someone with human emotions.

Hungry opportunists, gold digging blood suckers, ready and waiting to leech off him.

Thee image conjured had him fuming, his temper on the rise that nearly broke his poise. His insides were coiling, his blood into acid becoming violent under his calm surface. A deep breathe, Mortimer remembers his breathing exercises, sure it's been a long time, but nonetheless the fight over money was becoming repetitive.

"Come Mortimer, we must be off." Rising from her seat, his Aunt brushes off any current dust that resided on her dress. "You have my gratitude, Alroka, I thank you for securing what belongs to my nephew."

Alroka, had gone back to his own chair, returning to his previous work, he grabs the quill that rested neatly inside the ink bottle. "Of course, Mrs. Malfoy," A small growl, vibrating in his throat. "I am here to serve – Not to mention, the legal fees."

Narcissa didn't bother to comment. If you stared closely enough, than could almost see her eye twitching. "I am aware." Sounding particularly annoyed. "Let's go."

"One last thing," His sharp nailed finger points up. "Should your nephew want to reclaim Mistress Walburga's home, I have prepared a key that will bring you to its location. From then on, it is your will to do what you want."

Without saying anymore, an average sized wooded case appears below the goblin's desk. Offering it to Narcissa, she cautiously takes the box from his wrinkled pointed hands. "Thank you."

With the case resting on her left hand, her right hand holds Mortimer's shoulder firmly, guiding her nephew out of the office.

The doors closing, he believed it was the end until his Aunt spoke. "While we are here, you should resupply your pouch."

There wasn't much time to respond as he's whisked away into the tunnels, ridding inside a rusted metal cart where they traveled through the rails.

Remaining quiet, the journey to the Black Vault was soundless. Narcissa had the look of exploration, wanting to say more than what was already said. Yet, had kept her thoughts to herself, being tactful, she knew the prying ears of the public will want to hear.

Her eyes found the cool gaze of her nephew as he gathered enough coin to last him for a while. He shivered briefly under her stare. She was not a cold person, not to Mortimer at least, but he did understand the witch standing before him was a cold calculating one. A mask to protect the Malfoy image.

Coming to face with, not Aunt Cissy, but Lady Narcissa Malfoy.

Leaving Gringotts, Narcissa continued to move her feet, speaking in a low tone. "I assume you are still at the Leaky Cauldron?"

Keeping his tone neutral, he answers. "Yes."

In route, she glances through the street, making her way down, passing Madam Malkin's. "Good. I want you remain there. I'll visit when I can.

"Does this mean…" He asks, nervous with the feel to say more, he forces the question out. "I don't get to come back home?"

There was a pause, her brows knitted as she appeared to be fighting with herself. "Your Uncle made up some tale, telling them you went off with Severus, something about gathering potion ingredients." Shaking her head, she felt frustrated with the situation. "I've been pleading with him to bring you back, but he refuses."

Mortimer had no idea. More than that, he didn't think Narcissa would oppose, not to her husband at least. "I'm sorry.

Reaching the Leaky Cauldron, Mortimer looked around uneasily, the pub was fairly crowded as you could hardly see beyond the doors. Reaching around her dress, Narcissa took out a head scarf, loosely wearing it to conceal herself.

He doesn't question it, knowing the public would question as to why Narcissa was at Pub known for catering muggleborns. It was a good thing everyone else was distracted.

Leading his Aunt to the stairs of his room, they reached the doors before closing it, giving them the privacy to talk.

Alone at last, she removes her scarf, letting it rest on top of a nearby desk.

Mortimer half expected Narcissa to yell and demand answers as to why he ran off.

To his shock, she instead brings Mortimer into a tight embrace, tenderly speaking. "Oh my dear – foolish boy. . ."

A pause, she grabs him by the shoulders, abruptly scolding him. "How could you run away like that? Do you have any idea how scared I was?" She huffed. "I practically ran out of the manor, searching for you."

He tilts his head. "You did?"

Letting go, she replies, "Yes." rubbing her temple. "My fear was you've been kidnapped."

"By who?" Wondering if it had something to do with the recent events, he asks. "Sirius Black?"

The helm of her dress was flicked back when she moved away to observe the room. "Well… Yes." Moving to the corner of the room, she finds Draco's Nimbus. "He escaped the day before your birthday, you know… I thought that maybe he found out about you." Her voice suddenly turns angry. "Dared, to steal you – Merlin, who knows what he would've done…"

Seeing the fear it brought her, Mortimer felt the sting of guilt prickling his skin. "I-I'm sorry." Aware that apologizing wouldn't fix the pain he's caused.

"No." Narcissa turns to him, her heels clicking as her soft hands caresses his pale skin. "There is nothing to apologize for. My sweet boy, what your uncle did was morally wrong. I was so angry." Gloom casted her features. "So furious. I nearly disobeyed him… going as far as going to the muggle world." The idea of ever stepping there, she felt sickened.

Mortimer witnessed the hurt in her clear eyes that he causes him to look away. Thinking he would never grow to care about anyone – And the fact that he did, all but made him feel worse.

Solemn, Mortimer noted with a quick glance of her eyes. Given everything she's done for him and what he's put her through, he didn't think he deserve her forgiveness.

"Think nothing more of it nephew. I'm simply relieved that you are unharmed."

Reaching for him again, Narcissa was relieved to have found him. A complicated situation, she wanted nothing more than to bring her nephew back home. But with Lucius refusing, she was forced to obey. Despite her disapproval, she was still his wife, and a mother that needed to protect the Malfoy image.

At the cost of her own nephew, she felt like a terrible person for letting the thing pass. Helpless, she can only watch as Mortimer stays in the background of their family. Acknowledging her nephew will be unable to show the world what potential he carries. It was all because of who happened to birth him.

Sometimes Narcissa even wonders what was going through her sister's head when she brought Mortimer into this world. How could she have been so careless to lose the one thing she was suppose to protect?

Turning her attention back to her nephew, he appeared different somehow. Maybe it was this new look he has adopted. Honestly, he looked like a muggle. The collar shirt he wore had the oddest of designs, trousers that fitted rather lose appeared to made out of the most horrible of fabrics and that hair… he had but trimmed it all off. What in the merlin was this boy thinking?

It was ghastly, terribly put together. And what's worse, it goes against everything her family believes in.

Despite all that, she couldn't seem to care.

Mortimer was still family. As such, needed much care and attention. She knows more than she probably should. The scum that reside in the mon-magical world have all but hurt her boy. This only increased her nerves, wanting to hex the life out of that filthy old hag.

Her nephew might not aware that she knows. He's never brought it up, then again, neither has she. Maybe time will tell when Mortimer will fully trust her enough to share the life he's lived before.

Releasing Mortimer, she caressed his face one last time, softly speaking. "Have you purchased your supplies yet?"

"Most of it… I still need a few books."

"Good boy." Nodding, finally lets go and proceeds to go back to the corner, eyeing Draco's broom, she lets out small laugh. "Draco was more worried about what happened to his broom the day you disappeared."

"He was?"

"Very much so." Taking hold of it. "I take it you won't be needing this?"

Shaking his head, he supposed Draco could have his broom back. Right after Mortimer's shameful wayfaring of the skies. "Tell Draco, I'm sorry, bout' the broom…"

"Of course." Narcissa merely replies, taking ahold of the broom's handle. "At any rate, you'll be reunited soon enough. You can apologize to him there."

Thinking that was the end of their conversation, Narcissa went ahead to pick up her scarf. Fixing herself, she moves to face Mortimer, a smile plays. "One more thing," She starts to say. "Don't think your actions won't go unpunished – Recklessly running off, worrying me to death, wearing those awful clothes! Eugh…" Snapping out of it, she opens the door. "You are forbidden from going to Hogsmeade this year."

"What!?" She had to be joking! Anything but a weekends trip. He'd be fine with simply doing chores, painting a fence, working like a house elf. "You can't."

"I can and I will." The door creaks as she opens the door wider. "Worry not. Maybe next year you'll get to go. That is if you can stay away from trouble. Honestly, I thought it was Draco I had to worry about."

Standing there like a complete buffoon. He wants to negotiate, compromise on a deal. Say something that will change her mind. "B-B-But. . . I –"

His Aunt holds up her hand. Instantly shooting down any hope of convincing. "My mind is made up." And that was the end. But before she could fully leave, she quickly runs to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Giving her nephew a warm smile. "Be good now, Mortimer. I'll come back and check on you in a few days. Love you."

Helpless as he was, he watches his Aunt leave when she firmly closes the door, leaving him alone in the room. Any other time he'd care less about the consequences. And yet this one however bothered him. Probably because this year he was finally allowed to leave the school grounds and go to actual places where he can hangout with Theo and the others. He's first heard it from Draco. Telling him about the many shops that were there, the many things one could get and do, Mortimer was genuinely excited to join his fellow peers on their third-year.

Rubbing his head. He suppose it was fair. Breaking the rules and whatnot. Still, it didn't mean he had to like it. Is this what it felt like to be a normal kid? Children often did stupid things and studying his situation, he can honestly say what he did was incredibly daft and well deserved.

He was just lucky it was Aunt Cissy who delivered. Had it been Nana, he didn't think he'd be breathing right now.

A long sigh, Mortimer shakes of what ever emotion lingered. Looking out the window, the evening was drawing near. There wasn't much left to do until dinner. He could take it upon himself and hang with Potter… As if! He was bored, not lonely. The kid was prone to being nosy. It'd be an interrogation, not a hangout.

Retrieving his wand, he mutters Accio, When a book swishes from the bed and into his hand, he decides to spend the hour reading in the comfort of this rather old sofa. Where, he'll count the days until he's back riding the train to Hogwarts.