Acknowledgement—This is a work of fan fiction, written and published solely for the enjoyment of readers. Significant characters are found in the works of JK Rowling as are some locations. The author wishes to thank Ms. Rowling for graciously allowing fans to indulge their own creativity. No remuneration is sought or accepted.

Two Daughters

Chapter Two

Getting brought up on charges before the Wizengamot was not on Potter's mind when he hove to and stood by so that Bellatrix Lestrange could have a place to land when she broke out of Azkaban Prison. He had held his position a good distance away from the island facility. Bellatrix Lestrange saw the speck on the horizon and jumped from the prison roof. By purest chance, her leap terminated some miles distant on the deck of Potter's sailboat.

Potter didn't cover up his action. On the contrary, he considered it lifesaving, in accordance with the law and custom of the sea. If a line was crossed, it was, perhaps, when he gave Bellatrix a change of clothing. Alternatively, it could have been when he took her prison smock and with a wave of his wand, sent it flying back toward Azkaban. The currents delivered the smock to the rocks below the prison, where it was found by guards on patrol. Potter and Bellatrix were, for a few weeks, sailing in the opposite direction from the smock's course. Under some legal theories, that could have been interpreted as concealing a prison break.

The discovery of Bellatrix' smock was cited by the prison warden in his report to the Wizengamot, at the end of which he concluded that Bellatrix Black Lestrange was, in all probability, deceased, a suicide. Harry Potter, as Lord Black, clan chief of the Blacks, was present in the Wizengamot chamber and accepted the authorities' conclusion that his kinswoman was dead. The Lestrange family stayed out of the proceedings, most of them either locked up or desiring to avoid any activity that would cause them to come to the attention of magical law enforcement.

The couple's lives got more complicated when Bellatrix, who was now calling herself Bella Black, of the Jamaica Blacks, gave birth to Potter's daughter, Anemone. Potter thought they could sail here and there between Europe and North America, staying out of sight and educating Ane through travel and nature study. That plan was canceled when Bella learned she had a heart condition that would probably shorten her life. Potter did everything he could think of to make life easy and stress-free for his lover. Sadly, Bella died, when their daughter was not quite three years old.

Potter sailed back to Britain, parked his boat in a magical marina and took his little girl home to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. He began to execute a lightly thought-through plan. The first step was to bring Andromeda Tonks, Bella's sister, and Teddy Lupin, Potter's godson, to Grimmauld Place. They sat in the second drawing room of the Black family townhouse, studying the enchanted family tree tapestry. Potter related a well-edited synopsis of his sail-about with Bella and the resulting daughter, also Andromeda's niece and Teddy Lupin's second cousin.

Bella had given Potter another task, to look in on a second daughter, then living in a foster home. Not one for half measures, Potter brought the daughter, Delphini, home with him.

Some months after his return to London, Potter sat in a wing chair in the second drawing room of his house on Grimmauld Place, wondering if he had stirred up his domestic situation beyond all calmative measures. Andromeda Tonks didn't think Anemone, the natural daughter with Bella, would cause him an excess of problems. Nor did Potter. He possessed a birth certificate issued in Trinidad naming him as Ane's father. Delphini was more complicated because of the highly irregular circumstances of her birth.

Since his return, Potter had minimized taking the young witches out in public, but he knew that would not always be possible. The British magical community was small and inbred. Everyone knew everyone's personal business, eventually. It couldn't be avoided. Thus, Potter wanted more insulation around his family, which meant reaching out to two individuals who were related to the girls.

"What do you want, Potter?"

The annoyed-sounding voice came out of the green flames in the second drawing room hearth at Grimmauld Place.

"Draco, how are things? I was hoping this might be a good time to speak with your mother," Potter answered.

"She's outside, gardening," replied Draco Malfoy. "She says it helps quiet her nerves, so once she starts, I leave her to it, for as long as possible. As a courtesy."

The implication being, naturally, that a Potter intrusion would be discourteous and socially-unacceptable. Potter took note and nodded.

"Well, let's not disturb her, of course," he said. "I was hoping to establish contact and extend an open invitation to come by the house in town, for you and Madame. It's time to begin thinking through civil relations, it seems to me. Besides, there is pending Black family business. I am compelled to include you both, as you know. Blood and magic, that's the real mortar of our world."

The sentence seemed to hang there. Potter wasn't babbling. He'd thought about what he wanted to say, the words he'd use, and the unspoken message he wanted the Malfoys to understand. Narcissa was a Black, above all else. She would get it.

"Give me…" Draco began, then the hearth went silent.

Potter returned to his wing chair and sat. He looked at his watch.

"Five minutes," he muttered, smiling.

He was off, by less than a minute. As he'd suspected he would, Draco Malfoy had left the corresponding hearth at Malfoy Manor and gone looking for his mother. He'd delivered Potter's message.

Narcissa Malfoy would have asked a few questions, demanding Draco repeat Potter's exact words, listening for nuance. Draco lacked some critical background and wouldn't have had many illuminating answers, so Narcissa, now at least mildly intrigued, would have felt compelled to come to the hearth and do her own query.

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place? Is Lord Black available?"

Narcissa's melodious alto wafted out of the green flames.

"Hullo! This is Harry. Thank you for getting back to me so quickly," said Potter.

Not yet a practiced wizarding world operator, Potter did have good instincts. Perhaps they were built on the lessons taught by Nature about how to bait a hook, where to drop it in the water and how to make it move just so to encourage a strike.

"What can I do for you, my lord?" said an obviously-distressed Narcissa.

Potter smiled. He could only imagine what it cost Narcissa's psyche to utter those words.

"How's that go? Honor me with your presence? If you and Draco could come to tea? Anytime, today, tomorrow, if you're free next week?" said Potter.

Narcissa seemed to have stepped away from her hearth to consult. Potter heard some distant mumbling coming through, ending in an exclamation.

"TEA? NOW? As in RIGHT NOW?"

That had to be Draco, Potter knew. Then Narcissa was back.

"This afternoon works, if you'll give me just a little time to get presentable," said Narcissa. "I've been outside, gardening."

"Wonderful!" said Potter. "Call me back before you leave so Kreacher can make us a fresh pot of tea."

He was smiling, ear-to-ear, as he walked to his dining room where his daughters were sitting at the table, cutting and pasting. Potter looked over their work, assessing it immediately as very advanced, considering their ages.

"Beautiful! What is it?" he asked Ane.

"It's YOU, Da-da," she insisted.

"Ah, yes, that is my foot, isn't it?"

"NO! That's Kreacher, this is you," Ane said as she pointed at a grouping of overlapping strips and cuttings pasted atop one another.

"Of course!" Potter agreed. "Delphi? What have you done?"

"A dragon," answered Delphini. "A big one with a bellyful of trouble."

Potter tried to find a dragon in Delphini's composition, even using a little imagination. He gave it up.

"Great! Now, young Miss Blacks, can I have your attention? We're going to have some visitors coming over soon. I'll introduce you to them and we'll have tea together. You will not fight and they will be delighted to meet you. Does that sound like fun?" asked Potter.

The young witches were returning mildly confused looks, but no actual replies, when the whoop of an incoming floo call sounded.

"Got to get that," said Potter.

He left the dining room and crossed into the first salon, where the Blacks received guests. That bit of family lore had come to Potter by accident, when his godfather, Sirius Black, made an offhand remark about his own mother, Walburga, insisting Sirius and his brother, Regulus, always show up in the salon on such occasions.

"Draco, Madame," said Potter, greeting the arriving guests with just the right inclination of his head.

"My lord," answered Narcissa as she dropped into a curtsy.

Potter extended two hands, took one of Narcissa's and waited until she was fully upright, then he inclined his own head over the hand.

"Delighted," he said, before turning toward Draco.

"Welcome," said Potter, extending his hand, mildly surprised when Draco took it.

"Thank you for receiving us, Lord Harry," answered Malfoy.

Protocol satisfied, Potter gestured toward the dining room.

"Introductions," he said, then waited for the Malfoys' reactions.

"Merlin," gasped Narcissa.

"Aunt Bella…" said Draco before reality set in.

The little copy of Bellatrix Black Lestrange couldn't be his Aunt Bellatrix, which must mean Auntie had given birth to this one.

"Second drawing room," said Potter. "Girls?"

When the two young witches had climbed down from their chairs, Potter led the way back. He took them to the Blacks' enchanted tapestry and stood, a shoulder in each hand and his back to the wall.

"Delphini," he said as Delphi curtsied.

"Anemone," he went on.

Ane didn't curtsy, exactly, but her intentions were good.

"Young Black witches, I want to introduce you to your Aunt Narcissa and Cousin Draco. Their last name is Malfoy and they live in a marvelous house in Wiltshire. Draco and I were in school at the same time," said Potter.

"Now, some tea and scones?" he asked.

When Kreacher had delivered the refreshments and left the drawing room, Narcissa dropped all her airs with her salutatory question:

"What in Hell, Potter?" she demanded.

He shifted his eyes to the girls, then back to Narcissa.

"Oh. Pardon…" she began, until Potter cut if off with a wave.

"Give us a little time," he said. "Some of it…"

Potter became non-verbal, rocking a hand back and forth.

"You DID rescue her," muttered Draco, who appeared to have had some instinctive feeling on the matter.

Potter nodded.

"Five wonderful years," he said. "She was filled with remorse. Wanted to make amends, which we never figured out how to do. She died, to Magical Britain. After her leap from the roof, you know. Rest in peace."

"Forgive me," said Narcissa, "But…now?"

Potter gave her a closed-mouth smile.

"Rest in peace," he repeated.

"And just over here, if you'd like to take a look," Potter went on as he waved at the family tree tapestry.

Draco Malfoy took a breath as if preparing to speak, before Narcissa laid a hand on his forearm.

"Save it," she growled, before standing and moving to the tapestry. Narcissa looked closely for a minute, perhaps two.

"I see," was Narcissa's sole comment.

"I thought you might," said Potter. "Now, it does not seem to me that there are any good reasons at present for going public with this. Well, there are a lot of old, unhealed wounds around, aren't there? Nothing the young witches had anything to do with so I'll do whatever is in my power to keep them out of that. They've met Auntie Andromeda and Cousin Teddy."

"Cuzzna," added Ane.

"She can't say 'cousin,'" Delphi muttered from behind her hand.

Draco caught it and nodded agreement.

"What I need to know, from both of you, is if I can count on your cooperation in providing some normalcy for the young witches, who had nothing to do with that earlier, violent episode?" asked Potter. "The effects on children are very long-lasting, I can attest. We have enough Blacks to picnic, take the boat out, visit among ourselves. If we can get even two more years without the publicity, that would help. And, of course, more if possible."

"Can we sit?" asked Narcissa.

"Oh! Yes, of course," said Potter. "Kreacher, refresh the tea, please?"

Potter took the time, while they waited for the tea, to invite the young witches to return to their crafting. Some looks went back and forth before Delphini pronounced the plan was 'Okay.'

"Lord Harry," Narcissa began when the three were alone.

"Harry's okay," said Potter.

"Very well, Harry," tried Narcissa. "Just what do you want us to do? It isn't as if we are all that influential. Draco will be middle-aged before the Malfoys are returned to respectability."

"Mother…" protested Draco.

"Look, they're just starting out," said Potter. "Their family tree being what it is, there will be plenty of people waiting for one to trip, fall down and skin a knee, after which those people will see signs of the return of You Know Who or the next Bellatrix Lestrange. I, uh, sorry, this isn't easy for me to say. I have an inkling of what was eating Riddle. Orphan. Not raised by sympathetic adults. The rage could have built up, I'll admit it. Same as it did in him. I've no idea why it didn't, to be honest. Now I have the responsibility of raising two little Black sisters and they are going to get the best start in life that I can give them. As opposed to…that."

"So you are inviting us back into the Black family?" asked Draco.

"If you want it, you are already in," answered Potter. "I succeeded Sirius. He didn't banish you. I haven't had time for those things. So you know, Potter remains in alliance with Longbottom as has been the case for…well…Mists of Time and so on. Teddy Lupin is Andromeda's grandson so we're on good terms with Tonks and Lupin.

"I need a little circle so they aren't just here with me and the portraits for the next few years. Some people who won't judge them because of who their relatives are, or were."

Somewhere in Potter's oration Narcissa Malfoy began to warm to his challenging, intriguing, socio-politico-familial problem. Exotic origins or not, Anemone and Delphini were her nieces, daughters of the sister who had been such a big part of her childhood and young adult years. Their resemblance to her sister, Bella, was very strong.

"Better get going, Draco," said Narcissa as she stood up, then looked toward Potter. "We'll be in touch, no doubt."

"All I can ask," said Potter. "I didn't mean to drop more work on you, with everything else."

"Nor have you," Narcissa said. "This is family."

She smiled as she studied her nieces.

"Family is never work."

Draco Malfoy stared at his mother, but kept any opinions to himself. The party was opposite the door to the dining room.

"So very pleased to meet you, young misses," said Narcissa. "We'll see you again, I'm sure."

Fully engaged with their cutting and pasting, the two barely looked up.

"Bye," they said.

Draco and Narcissa stepped into the hearth and disappeared up the floo in a flash of green flame. Potter thought Draco was giving his mother a significant look of some kind as they left.

Had anyone asked, Potter would have said he'd done as well as could be expected, getting his charges together at Number Twelve. He had cautioned them, over and over, about how important it was not to go exploring the townhouse on their own. There had been skilled, powerful witches and wizards resident there over the years. It was possible they'd put things like wards and jinxes in place, for security or personal convenience, things that couldn't be seen. Bad results could be expected if the young witches went adventuring without Harry or some other responsible adult to cast revealing charms or shields or whatever preventive measure might be needed.

"Besides, I'm the head around here so of course none of those things are supposed to be able to hurt the head. That really ought to cover anyone with me," Potter explained.

"Harry's the Head around here," Delphi told Ane in her most-stern voice.

"Da-da," said Ane.

Potter filled their days with activities. The group could apparate to the boat for a few hours or all day. Potter liked to cast off and sail around a bit but the witches could just as easily stay busy studying sea birds or fishing at the dock with hand lines. Grimmauld Place held several floors of wonders. There was plenty of cleaning to do since Kreacher had been in charge without orders during the years after Sirius Black's death. Potter taught them some simple, child-level spells for cleaning. Washing, polishing, applying and buffing of wax made for many fun family group activities.

Potter introduced his daughters to Walburga Black, late Mistress of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and the mother of Sirius and Regulus Black. A pureblood partisan during the recent conflictive period, Walburga's enchanted portrait looked with disdain on all non-pureblood wizards and witches. The Black witches got off to a very promising start with Walburga. Potter introduced them as Bellatrix Black Lestrange's daughters, which made them Walburga's grand-nieces. Potter left the witch's paternal parentage vague, relying on Walburga to assume her niece had the girls with her husband Rodolphus.

Prior to introducing them, Potter had Kreacher prepare a pot of raspberry tea and sat down with the witches at the kitchen table.

"We need to speak to your Aunt Walburga," he began. "Have you ever seen or spoken to an enchanted portrait?"

Potter explained how enchanted portraits retained some ability to converse with people, a great advantage when the person in the portrait was no longer living. Of course, since the portrait spends most of its time in a kind of stasis, it doesn't really keep up with changes in its surroundings the way a living person would.

"Madame was old and very set in her ways when the portrait was painted," he explained. "She responds well to courtesies. She especially likes it when younger people, like the two of you and even me, to an extent, show respect. That was very important for magical people of her era. When I introduce you, I'd like you to look down, curtsy and say you're honored to meet her. Oh, and please call her Madame Walburga."

"And she is our auntie?" asked Delphi.

"Yes, but don't call her Auntie unless she invites you to," said Potter. "She will notice that, too. If she says it's how she wishes to be addressed, then it will be fine to do so."

Potter related his situation to Neville Longbottom. His friend and ally was shocked when he first learned about Ane and Delphi, which was understandable. Potter invited Longbottom to Grimmauld Place and introduced everyone. Neville grasped Potter's conundrum immediately and swore to keep his knowledge to himself.

Potter knew his biggest obstacle lay ahead of him. He weighed the advantages and disadvantages of discussing his current status with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Explaining the witches and their relationship risked one or both going straight to the authorities with tales of Bellatrix Lestrange's escape and Potter's aiding and abetting, along with the presence of two young, unexplained witches in his household.

Even if Ron and Hermione did not turn him in, the situation was sure to leak to the larger Weasley family, and who knew where that would lead?

On the other hand, keeping Ron and Hermione at arm's length probably wouldn't work because Potter had business that would take him to Gringotts Bank and Wizengamot sessions. He'd have to see his closest friends now and then while seeming to push them away. Potter didn't have the cold heart necessary for cutting them off. As so often when confronting some dilemma, Potter discovered a need to have a conversation with his friend Longbottom.

With Neville Longbottom, Potter had no need to ask him over for a talk about this or that. The two wizards would sit someplace congenial, such as at Potter's kitchen table, and catch up. Sometimes, neither had anything on his mind. Sometimes, one or both did. Anything serious would rise to the surface, if they were patient.

"How about this—I'll have Hannah put together a picnic, out at Gran's," said Longbottom. "We'll invite Ron and Hermione. You'll be there, with the girls. They'll see the two of them and I'd bet Hermione, at least, will get it right away."

"Then?"

"Same as when they met Andy and Teddy, Narcissa and Draco…"

"And you," said Potter.

"What is the worst that could happen, to you, I mean?" asked Longbottom. "The official account still ends with that suspended session of the Wizengamot."

"Correct," Potter agreed.

"Any action would require re-opening debate," said Longbottom. "Could anyone testify to your aiding and abetting? Harboring a fugitive from justice?"

"No," said Potter.

"Considering everything, my reading of the situation is that the Minister, the aurors and the Wizengamot as a whole would do almost anything to avoid reopening the case of Bellatrix Lestrange," said Longbottom.

"I have to think about Delphi, though," said Potter. "Other than Bella's verbal request, I didn't have any legal basis to claim her."

"True," said Longbottom. "Although, going only by what you've told me, it doesn't sound like there was a legal basis for her to be where she was. Have you thought about an inheritance test?"

"I have," Potter said, "It's just…"

"A bit wary about what you'll learn?"

"Okay, here it is," said Potter. "When Voldemort was still in his—damaged—state, he, Crouch, Jr. and Pettigrew manipulated the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament. Now, we can see it was to get me into that Little Hangleton graveyard. That's where Pettigrew did some ritual to reconstitute Voldemort's body. He used a bone from Riddle Senior, Pettigrew's hand and my blood. When Riddle stood up in that cauldron I didn't see a complete man. If that wasn't managed, somehow, the Lestranges had to use artificial means. The ritual used pieces from three individuals, plus him, so for all I know her father could be any of us, some of us or all four together. And, yes, I'd want to think it over very carefully before jumping in."

"Harry, look, you want to live in Britain, you'll have to grasp the nettle, right? Eventually it's going to come down to that," said Longbottom. "Talk to a lawyer first if you want a legal opinion."

"Yeah," agreed Potter. "Yeah. That is one thing I definitely have to do."