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Son, Harry Potter read the letter left to him by his father, along with the heavy key. In the letter, his father asked Harry to step into his shoes and safeguard the family secrets when he was no longer there. Interestingly, the letter pointed to a hidden room in his father's office, a place his mother would never have ventured.
Harry's father had entrusted him with the fate of their family business, with a nonchalant attitude toward its future. Despite his father's failed ambition to compete with giants like Nimbus or Lightning in the luxury broomstick market, the letter was filled with love and hope for Harry's future.
With a sense of purpose, Harry checked the key and decided to explore his father's office—a space that had been off-limits for years and felt like a portal to a bygone era with its antique decor. Upon entering the office, Harry was struck by the dusty furniture and an overall sense of abandonment. The only recent sign of life was a sticky note on the mahogany desk with his father's laptop login credentials and a phone number.
Intrigued, Harry dialed the landline number, discovering it belonged to Hermione, his father's assistant. He realized that despite the vastness of their home, Hermione could have visited without his knowledge. Harry stood in the quiet office, surrounded by echoes of the past and the mystery of his father's secret life, ready to unravel the hidden truths within.
Harry Potter, with the still heavy key in his hand, was irresistibly drawn to the fireplace above the mantelpiece. His father had displayed all of Harry's old racing trophies there, along with a few framed photos of them together on the podium. The photo in the center, capturing the day Harry took second place after a wild race while standing on a broomstick, made his heart leap to his throat. He saw his dad laughing and waving at him in that photo.
Removing the frame, Harry felt a rush of emotions and sank into the nearest chair, only to stir up a cloud of dust from the white sheet covering it. Coughing and cursing under his breath, his eyes stung from tears and dust. Getting up, he accidentally bumped into the dresser, almost toppling the junior trophy. Catching the trophy, his attention was drawn to the carved lintel. He ran his fingers along the mantelpiece, searching for a hidden compartment for the key, but found nothing.
Next, Harry searched the room, checking bookshelves and behind paintings, even lifting the rug in some places, but to no avail. His attention was caught by a small shelf filled with paper-bound instructions. Spotting the 1964 Silver Comet cleaning instructions, he knew he would find something there. Indeed, behind the instructions was a black iron slit, a perfect fit for his key.
With a satisfying click, the wall opened, revealing a small room with a four-drawer filing cabinet, a chair, and a narrow bed. Harry's frustration grew as he discovered that the three bottom drawers of the cabinet were locked, and his key didn't fit. However, the top drawer was open. Inside, he found a folder marked with the letter "H," containing a semester paper from the time when the woman had studied at Hogwarts with excellent results. Flipping through the pages, Harry discovered a two-century-old essay on magical economics, with highlighted sections. Intriguingly, he noticed that these sections had been copied word-for-word into the Hogwarts semester paper.
Harry Potter, clutching the evidence of a Hogwarts graduate's plagiarism, wondered why his father would have such incriminating proof. His heart sank as he uncovered documents related to the woman's parents' citizenship, along with photos of her being escorted to a hotel by a corpulent white man during a tense wartime period. "Dad... what the hell were you up to?" Harry muttered in disbelief.
Unable to access the three lower drawers of the filing cabinet, Harry sat at his father's desk, his head in his hands, frustrated and disoriented. He disliked being in the dark and was always eager to seek answers. Reaching for the phone, he dialed the number written on the sticky note. Hermione's voice, filled with emotion and excitement, answered after just one ring.
"It's me," Harry said, responding to her surprised question. "Did you leave a letter in my room?"
"No, I didn't leave any letter. Have you gone through your father's things?" Hermione's voice sounded urgent.
"I did, and we need to talk," Harry insisted. The conversation ended, leaving Harry in the darkening room. He returned to the small room, gathering documents related to Hermione. Spreading them out on the desk, he struggled with the thought that his father might have used them for blackmail. It was not the style of the man he knew.
Opening his laptop, Harry delved into his father's files, searching for something that would dispel his doubts. He navigated the file structure, finding notes related to Hermione and other women, although seemingly in a professional context.
When Harry uncovered "top-secret" engineering notes and began examining the drawings, his excitement soared. He had no idea of their purpose until he laid them all out. Realizing what his father had been building sent shivers down his spine, and the hairs on his shoulders and neck stood on end.
Harry meticulously went through the drawings when he heard the entrance door open and the distinct sound of approaching heels. He quickly organized the paperwork, took the items he found in the cabinet, and headed to the bar to prepare himself a cocktail.
As Hermione entered the office, she found Harry mixing a whiskey sour. "Care for a drink?" he offered the slender woman.
"That would be nice," she replied.
Hermione worked for Harry's father for years. Her path to becoming a technical project manager and eventually his father's right-hand woman, albeit with the understated title of executive assistant, was a testament to her skills. Harry always found being around her a challenge, captivated by her delicate beauty and sharp features. He often dreamed of her, but pushed those thoughts aside as he handed her a drink, and their fingers briefly touched.
"Thank you," she said, and the tension around her eyes eased a bit, but a spark of electricity jumped between them, startling them both.
"Have a seat," Harry pointed to a chair in front of a large desk, and his eyes focused on the unfolded objects. "I have a few questions that I hope you'll be able to answer.
Hermione's dark eyes widened at the sight of the items on the desk. She took a sip of her drink, setting it down on the coaster, and calmed down. "Ask me anything. I remain at your service, sir," she said, and her expression was calm and composed.
Harry, slightly raising an eyebrow at her formality, couldn't help but notice how her long-sleeved blouse and black silk pants accentuated her slender figure. Shifting his gaze, he asked directly: - Did my father blackmail you?
He watched her carefully, noting the surprise that dawned on her face for a moment. Harry was relieved when she quickly dismissed the thought. "Your father would never do such a thing, but I understand how it can look. No, I gave these items to your father as a form of security to assure him of my trustworthiness and to assure him that he would never fear that I might betray his secrets.
"And what were you working on that required such secrecy? Harry continued, eager to unravel the mystery.
Harry Potter listened intently as Hermione, a young woman who had been a close associate of his father, began to explain her relationship with him. Despite her poised demeanor, her next words were startling.
"I was your father's slave in name only," Hermione declared, and her small lips formed a gentle smile at Harry's shocked expression. "To outsiders it may seem unbelievable, but to me it was ... necessary," she said. Her cheeks blushed slightly as she acknowledged this, overcoming her embarrassment.
She explained her lack of direction during her teenage and college years, even though she was a capable student. Only after meeting Harry's father did she find a sense of purpose. Harry noticed the embarrassment she fought when she spoke, but also an unexpected hint of excitement. Although Harry's experience with women was limited, he could sense the complex emotions playing out in Hermione. Her embarrassment was intertwined with subtle excitement, evident in the way her blouse tensed slightly.
Intrigued, Harry asked if they had been lovers after her employment. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Hermione explained that their relationship hadn't been entirely romantic. She mentioned his father's illness and the constraints she had imposed, pointing to a sort of contract she had willingly accepted.
When asked about the knowledge of other people in the company or his stepmother regarding this relationship, Hermione remained discreet, revealing no more than she deemed appropriate. Harry couldn't determine whether her gaze toward the door was due to embarrassment or nervousness.
Reflecting on Hermione's revelations, Harry concluded that while they might not have been lovers, there had definitely been a significant and complex relationship between them. His father, known for his charming and commanding presence, had always been respectful and polite, especially towards women. This newfound insight into his character was both troublesome and intriguing for Harry Potter, who pondered over Hermione's revelations, arriving at the realization that, although their relationship might not have been romantic, it was undoubtedly intricate. James, known for his charm and respect for women, didn't fit the image of someone involved in a dubious relationship.
Shifting his thoughts away from his father, Harry focused on Hermione. She was the top graduate in management at Hogwarts in recent years, a brilliant runic engineer, and an exceptional project manager. She skillfully ran the company after his father's death. To the world, Hermione was a capable, intelligent, and strong woman. But Harry saw something more—a sensitivity, a hidden desire for leadership and guidance, likely shaped by societal pressures and her own internal needs.
As Harry connected the dots, he contemplated the societal expectations placed on women like Hermione—being independent but conflicted with their innate desires. Acknowledging such needs in today's world could be misconstrued, leading to criticism or ostracism.
Wanting to change the subject, Harry inquired about the new runic engine project his father had commissioned, displaying the drawings on his laptop. Hermione, adjusting her glasses, examined the drawings with both curiosity and embarrassment. Harry revealed significant one-time engineering costs associated with the project, funded by an unknown shell company. It was clear to Harry that his father had been involved in covert activities.
Hermione's voice, tinged with pain, revealed her sense of exclusion from his father's trust. Her facial expression shifted into one of fierce determination as she offered Harry the same "contract" she had with his father, suggesting a desire to be under his leadership, just as she had been under his father's.
Harry, taken aback, asked bluntly, "Do you want to be my slave?" The weight of the question and the implications it carried hung heavily in the air.
Harry's voice, deeper and more intimidating than he had intended, seemed to have an impact on Hermione. She straightened up, her expression composed, but a whirlwind of thoughts hid behind her dark eyes. Her gaze swept across Harry's face and broad shoulders, and a fleeting, hungry smile appeared on her lips. But then her expression changed, possibly due to the realization of their age difference.
Deciding to break the tension, Harry abruptly suggested that they continue the discussion the next day. He asked Hermione to join him at the track, instructing her to wear a red dress with black accents. His gaze lingered on her, not concealing his interest, as Hermione's cheeks flushed with a mix of emotions.
Harry instructed her to bring all the notes about Eleonora and Zabini for their upcoming meeting. Hermione reacted quickly, with a hint of surprise, followed by a satisfied smile at her own readiness. At the office door that Harry held open for her, Hermione asked if he planned to take over the company. Harry, somewhat influenced by the late hour and alcohol, admitted that he was intrigued but remained non-committal.
As Hermione left, and the sound of her heels and a glance at her figure marked her departure, Harry pondered their conversation. He wondered about his father's mysterious actions and his own questions for Hermione. The idea of a similar arrangement with Hermione was tempting, but he realized it would require more than just giving orders.
A tired Harry eventually made his way to his room around midnight. Along the way, he checked on his stepmother, Kate, finding her asleep with a glass of wine and tissues, a sign of her sadness. Seeing a bottle of sleeping elixirs on the nightstand, Harry felt a moment of unease but respected her autonomy as an adult. He took a sip of wine, leaving Kate to rest while he contemplated the complexity of recent events and the decisions he faced.
Harry Potter lay in bed, his thoughts restless as he tried to divert his mind from images of Kate in her silk robe, eventually drifting into fantasies about Hermione and her petite figure. He was awakened by his phone alarm, but unlike his usual routine, he hit snooze and stayed in bed, reminiscing about the mornings spent racing brooms with his father before breakfast.
The aroma of biscuits and sausage gravy eventually lured Harry out of bed. After freshening up and still grappling with the weight of his loss, he joined Kate in the dining room. She was eating, seemingly lost in her thoughts, while Molly, the housekeeper, tended to Harry and inquired about his well-being.
"I'm feeling better, Molly. And what about you and Ernesto? Did you both make it home last night?" Harry asked.
Molly, smiling, mentioned the convenience of using Floo Network, but her expression turned gloomy as she observed Kate. Kate, pouring more than a dash of orange juice into her champagne, ate in silence, avoiding conversation.
When Harry expressed concern about her early drinking, Kate responded with anger, daring him to challenge her. Surprised by her reaction and his own sadness, Harry fell silent. Kate quickly finished her drink and left the room uncertainly. Her departure was marked by a brief moment of shame on her face, but she offered no words of apology or reference to her husband with whom she spent the racing days.
Molly, who witnessed the scene, quietly cleared the dishes, her whispered "Dios mio" echoing the tension and sadness that filled the room.
Harry Potter, raised to be independent, often struggled to recognize when others needed comfort or assistance. He understood that wealth didn't necessarily mean an easy life because his father instilled in him the belief that an abundance mindset would not serve him in adulthood. Harry focused on his studies and hobbies, like racing, to stay away from trouble, but he acknowledged that such an approach had its drawbacks, especially in his relationship with Kate.
Pushing Kate out of his thoughts as she headed to her room, Harry refocused on Hermione, the company's potential, and many other worries. He returned to the present when Molly, the housekeeper, approached him with a request from the staff regarding their future in the household.
"Sir, the staff was wondering if you could talk to us about our future on the estate," Molly asked.
Harry agreed and asked Molly to gather everyone in the kitchen. He found the waiting household staff there, their faces showing signs of stress and sleeplessness. Molly was particularly moved, noticing the resemblance between Harry and his father.
"You don't have to apologize, Molly. It's a difficult time for all of us," Harry reassured her. Observing the staff, he noticed how much they had aged, and Ernesto's hair was now sprinkled with gray, contrasting with Harry's memories of him.
Harry assured them that there would be no immediate changes in the household. His words brought relief, but the staff remained attentive, sensing there was more news. He explained that the company was at a critical juncture, and he hadn't decided whether to sell it or run it independently. If he chose to run it, he warned of upcoming receptions and meetings at the estate.
"Like your father used to organize?" Molly asked, and the excitement of her and others was evident when Harry nodded.
Then Harry asked if the employees had any questions. They looked at each other hesitantly for a moment before Molly, gathering her courage, stepped forward to speak.