CHAPTER 13: THE PEVERELL SANCTUARY
Emerging from the fireplace into the manor's arrival room, Harry found himself clad in finely tailored dress robes, a choice insisted upon by Andromeda to ensure a sense of formality. Bellatrix, evidently appreciating the effort, couldn't help but cast admiring glances his way.
Draped in deep purple dress robes that accentuated her figure, Bellatrix exuded an air of alluring elegance. The robes hugged her body gracefully, extending down to her mid-calf. She had hastily ordered the ensemble the previous night, along with a pair of strappy high heels that brought her almost to eye level with Harry. Her raven hair, styled in an intricate knot, cascaded down her back in alluring ringlets. The overall effect left Harry yearning to run his fingers through her hair, a desire he discreetly concealed.
"You're early," Narcissa observed approvingly.
"I needed to discuss something rather sensitive and didn't want Andromeda to overhear. You look amazing, by the way," Harry complimented, his words causing Narcissa to beam with satisfaction. Bellatrix, standing beside him, huffed in playful annoyance.
Narcissa gracefully inclined her head. "Thank you, Harry. It's always a pleasure to have you both here. Now, what's this sensitive matter you wished to discuss?"
Harry's expression turned serious. "It concerns the recent incident in Diagon Alley. Augusta Longbottom attacked Bellatrix, and I'm concerned about the repercussions. I want to ensure we're prepared for whatever might come our way."
Narcissa's gaze grew thoughtful. "I see. We'll need to handle this delicately. The Longbottoms are a powerful and respected family. Let me consult with Lucius, and we'll devise a strategy to navigate this situation."
As they delved into their discussion, the opulent surroundings of Malfoy Manor provided a stark contrast to the challenges and intrigues they faced in the wizarding world. The air of secrecy and formality hung thick, reflecting the intricate dance of power and influence that defined their lives.
"I already told you that you look ravishing in that dress, and I can't wait to take it off of you later," Harry whispered into Bella's ear, eliciting a delightful blush from her.
Turning his attention back to Narcissa, Harry scanned her figure discreetly. She wore a floor-length blue gown that clung to her form, accentuating her grace and poise. Her hair was expertly arranged in an elaborate bun, secured with a jeweled silver comb that added a touch of regality to her appearance.
"Lucius had a diary with the name Tom M. Riddle stamped into the front cover. It is very dangerous, and I wish to destroy it," Harry explained, shifting the focus of the conversation.
"You can help me search his study for it this evening. If we find it, you're welcome to it," Narcissa offered graciously.
"Thank you," Harry replied gratefully.
"No, I should be thanking you. You handled the task excellently, and the Ministry is even debating paying me a sizeable amount of gold for the accidental death of my husband," Narcissa said with a smile.
"It was a pleasure. I got rid of his Ministry puppet at the same time," Harry added happily.
"And people claim I'm the evil Black sister," Bellatrix interjected with a hint of amusement.
"No, you're just the least subtle of the three of us," Narcissa remarked with a smirk.
Before the conversation could delve deeper into the complexities of their shared history, the fireplace burst into green flames, expelling Sirius Black and, to everyone's surprise, Amelia Bones. The unexpected arrivals injected a new layer of tension into the already charged atmosphere of Malfoy Manor.
"Oh boy, did he give you a love potion?" Harry teased Amelia in faux concern.
"Stuff a sock in it, Potter," Sirius exclaimed.
"It's officially Peverell now, and stop blurting out my secrets, you imbecile," Harry retorted after smacking Sirius on the back of the head.
"You're a Potter?" Narcissa inquired curiously.
"I was at one time; now there is only one Harry Potter in this timeline," Harry explained before drawing his wand and pointing it at Sirius. "Oblivi-"
"Don't wipe his memory," Amelia exclaimed worriedly.
"He's kind of a security risk at this point," Harry said tiredly, lowering his wand, much to Sirius' visible relief.
"Then make him take a vow of silence," Narcissa suggested, as if it were the most obvious solution.
"Fine, let's get this over with before Andy gets here," Harry instructed, looking at Sirius pointedly.
With a resigned sigh, Sirius complied, swearing a magical vow of silence that would prevent him from revealing sensitive information. The magical bindings settled over him, ensuring his newfound silence in matters that could jeopardize their security.
As the ritual concluded, a weighty silence lingered in the room. The arrival of unexpected guests had shifted the tone of the evening, and the unresolved tensions in Malfoy Manor seemed to intensify. The challenges they faced, both personal and political, continued to unfold in unexpected ways, and the future remained uncertain for the inhabitants of the wizarding world.
Sirius quickly gave the vow, pledging not to disclose any of Harry's secrets to anyone from that moment on. Following that, Narcissa inquired, "So, you're a time traveler?"
"Yes, but I'll fill you in on the details later," Harry promised as the fire flared green, and Andromeda stepped out, followed by Ted and Tonks.
"Wotcher," Tonks greeted, looking around the room curiously.
"Hello, Nymphadora. That dress looks lovely on you," Narcissa complimented, prompting a frown from Tonks.
She went to protest the use of her name but was stopped by a warning glare from her mother. Instead, she replied, "Thank you, Aunt Narcissa."
Once the pleasantries had been exchanged, Narcissa led the group to the dining room, and they all took seats around the massive dining room table. Classical music played softly in the background as an array of delectable dishes appeared on the table.
Harry took a moment to admire the opulence of the room. A large crystal chandelier hung over the table, casting a dazzling light on the cream-colored walls adorned with landscape paintings. The room was bathed in sunlight streaming through the large bay windows, making the chandelier sparkle magnificently. The atmosphere was one of refined elegance, a stark contrast to the tumultuous events and challenges they faced outside the walls of Malfoy Manor.
"This looks amazing," Andromeda exclaimed when the food appeared on the table.
They ate dinner in relative silence, savoring the delectable dishes laid out before them. The culinary delights left little room for conversation, and the only words exchanged were the occasional "pass the potatoes."
After dinner concluded, Dobby appeared with a truly scrumptious chocolate gateau, prompting Tonks to look like Christmas had come early. The rich dessert marked the end of the meal, and Ted and Andromeda excused themselves to take Tonks home, creating a pretext for the adults to engage in a more private discussion. Sirius seized the opportunity to slip away as well, leaving Harry, Bellatrix, and Narcissa seated at the table.
"So, you're a time traveler, the same age as my son?" Narcissa asked, getting straight to the point.
"Yes, we were on different sides during the war," Harry replied honestly.
"And me?" she pressed.
"You saved my life right before the second blood war ended. I gave the Black property in Nice and full access to the Black vaults. Last I heard, you were lounging on the beach," Harry said with a nonchalant shrug.
Narcissa regarded him with a thoughtful expression, absorbing the information. The complexities of their shared history and the ramifications of time travel cast a shadow over the elegant dining room, where the remnants of a sumptuous meal lingered. The air was charged with the unspoken understanding that their destinies were intertwined, and the unfolding events would shape the future in unpredictable ways.
"You were head of the Black family?" Narcissa asked, her curiosity evident.
"Yes, Sirius made me his heir before he died," Harry explained.
"Hmm, that is very interesting. I assume you plan on stopping the next war?" Narcissa inquired.
"Yes, among other things, that is the reason I need that diary," Harry answered.
"Then let's see if we can find it," Narcissa declared, rising from her seat and walking through the doorway.
Harry and Bellatrix promptly followed her out of the dining room and up the main staircase. They reached a door adorned with the Malfoy crest, and Narcissa, with practiced precision, performed a series of complex wand movements. The door's lock clicked, and it swung open.
"We can check here first. If you cannot find it, then we can explore the hidden room under the drawing-room," Narcissa explained, gesturing for them to begin.
The trio entered the room, the air heavy with the scent of ancient magic and the weight of untold secrets. The dim light of the candlelit chamber revealed shelves lined with books and artifacts, each whispering tales of the Malfoy family's history. The search for the mysterious diary began, setting in motion a chain of events that would unravel hidden truths and shape the course of their shared destiny.
Harry withdrew his wand and cast a spell he had never used before, "homenum fractum revelio." This spell, designed to locate Horcruxes, had become known to him only after he had already dealt with all of Voldemort's Horcruxes.
The magical energy of the spell tugged Harry towards a large oak desk on the other side of the room. Making his way there hastily, he discovered the desk had two rows of drawers, one on either side of the chair. Yet, the spell led him to the bottom-most drawer on the left-hand side.
Taking out his wand, Harry scanned for any traps and, finding none, cautiously slid the drawer open. There, at the bottom, lay the infamous diary that haunted his memories from his second year at Hogwarts.
"This is it," Harry declared, canceling the locator spell.
"That doesn't look very dangerous at all," Narcissa commented.
"It contains some of the foulest dark magic," Harry warned.
"Then take it. I will have the Ministry clear out Lucius's stash of dark artifacts in the next few days," Narcissa decided.
"Thank you, Narcissa. This is very important to ending the Dark Lord," Bellatrix said, casting a disgusted glance at the ominous diary.
"That man, if you could call him that, was a savage. If I had known Lucius was involved with him, I would have followed Andy's example," Narcissa confessed quietly, her tone carrying a hint of regret. The revelation of the diary's significance hung heavy in the air, a tangible link to a dark past that they were determined to overcome.
"You're still young and beautiful; I'm sure there is plenty of time for you to ensnare yourself a mudblood," Bellatrix said with a twisted smirk, her tone laced with a venomous edge.
"Bellatrix, what did I say about that word?" Harry interjected, his voice tinged with exasperation as he swiftly pocketed the diary, trying to divert the conversation away from the hateful term.
"That you hate the word and the next time I said it, you would give me a bare bottom spanking," Bellatrix responded with an unsettling excitement, her eyes gleaming mischievously.
"Good heavens, Bellatrix," Narcissa gasped, her face flushing a delicate shade of pink, clearly taken aback by her sister's audacity.
"Bella has been naughty and needs to be punished," Bellatrix chimed in, adopting an unsettlingly innocent, childlike voice that sent a shiver down Harry's spine.
"You only have yourself to blame for this, Harry," Narcissa sighed, shaking her head at the peculiar dynamics of her sister.
"I realize that now," Harry admitted, feeling a mix of regret and frustration, following the two women out of the study and into the elegant drawing-room.
As they settled into the comfortable chairs, Narcissa broached another topic, her tone serious yet tinged with a hint of desperation. "I have another favor to ask of you."
"Another assassination?" Harry inquired cautiously, knowing all too well the dark nature of the tasks often requested from him.
"No, not this time. Lucius has entered Draco into a marriage contract with the daughter of Lord Parkinson, and I have exhausted all my resources trying to annul the contract," Narcissa explained, a hint of worry etched across her elegant features. "The man remains unyielding, and I would prefer my son to have a choice in who he weds."
Harry's brows furrowed in concern. "Marriage contracts can be a labyrinth to navigate. But for Draco's freedom to choose, I'll do what I can."
The air in the room grew heavy with the weight of their worries, the flickering flames in the fireplace casting dancing shadows on the ornate walls, as they delved into the intricate web of wizarding politics and familial obligations, seeking a path that would grant Draco the liberty to forge his own destiny.
"How did I become your personal enforcer again?" Harry asked wearily, leaning back in his chair as he regarded Narcissa with a questioning look.
"Because you are very skilled at what you do, and we shall soon be family," Narcissa replied, her eyes gleaming with a hint of satisfaction and a warm smile playing on her lips.
Harry sighed, his exhaustion evident in his voice. "Alright, what's in it for me?" he asked, his tone shrewd, knowing that favors within the wizarding world seldom came without a price.
"My father included a nice little cottage in Cornwall as part of my dowry. If you are successful in making Lord Parkinson change his mind, then it's yours," Narcissa offered, her words carrying the weight of a tempting proposition.
The idea of a cottage in Cornwall intrigued Harry. Grimmauld Place held too many memories, most of them unpleasant, and the prospect of a secluded dwelling by the ocean sounded like a welcome change. He pondered the offer for a moment before pressing for more details.
"How big of a cottage are we talking about?" Harry inquired, his interest piqued.
Narcissa leaned forward, her demeanor open and candid. "Six bedrooms, six and a half bathrooms, with an ocean view."
Harry raised an eyebrow, contemplating the potential benefits of such a property. The allure of a spacious, ocean-view cottage began to outweigh the ties he had to Grimmauld Place.
"I might be interested," Harry conceded, his mind already turning to the possibilities. "Let me do some research into Lord Parkinson. I'll give you an answer in the next few days."
"Very well," Narcissa agreed, looking pleased with the progress. As Harry delved into the intricate world of Lord Parkinson's affairs, he couldn't help but feel a mix of determination and curiosity about the impending challenge, all while entertaining the enticing prospect of a new, coastal haven.
Harry and Bellatrix lingered for another hour, engrossed in conversation that meandered from the intricacies of magical contracts to the latest gossip in wizarding society. The ambient glow of the drawing-room lamps cast a warm and intimate atmosphere as they shared laughter and exchanged tales. Finally, as the clock neared ten, Harry and Bellatrix exchanged glances, silently acknowledging that it was time to return to Grimmauld Place.
With a wave of Narcissa's hand, the fireplace flickered to life, its flames dancing in a mesmerizing display. Harry and Bellatrix stepped into the hearth, the emerald-green flames engulfing them as they were whisked away in the magical journey back to their London residence.
The sensation of Apparition lingered for a moment before dissipating, leaving them standing in the dimly lit entrance hall of Grimmauld Place. The air was heavy with the weight of the past, and Harry couldn't shake the feeling of being tethered to memories he would rather forget.
"Home sweet home," Bellatrix mused, a wry smile playing on her lips as she glanced around the old, imposing entryway.
Harry couldn't help but chuckle, though it was a humor tinged with a touch of bitterness. "Sweet might be pushing it, but it's home, I suppose."
They ascended the creaky staircase, the sounds of their footsteps echoing through the silent corridors. As they reached the landing, Bellatrix turned to Harry, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"Perhaps we need to liven up this dreary place a bit," she suggested, a playful glint in her eyes.
Harry smirked. "You're not wrong. Maybe we can figure out a way to make it less... grim."
With that, they disappeared into the shadows of Grimmauld Place, the ancient house harboring secrets and echoes of the past, yet ripe with the potential for new adventures and unforeseen twists in the tale of their unconventional alliance.
Harry sat at the kitchen table, engrossed in the morning paper. A headline caught his attention, detailing a commotion at the Ministry of Magic due to the closure of all lifts for inspection. A smirk played on his lips as he read a particularly amusing piece about an intern on level one lamenting the inconvenience of the long stair climb every morning.
"Umbridge needs to walk her fat ass up a few more stairs," Harry chuckled to himself, unable to stifle his amusement at the irony.
Bellatrix entered the kitchen, her curiosity piqued by Harry's laughter. "What's so funny?" she inquired, a playful glint in her dark eyes.
"I made the paper again," Harry announced, a pleased grin spreading across his face.
Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, her interest fully captured. "What for this time?" she asked with a touch of amusement.
"They shut down all the Ministry lifts to check them for damage, and the workers are upset that they have to take the stairs," Harry explained, his amusement evident in his voice.
Bellatrix peered over his shoulder, catching sight of a photo featuring a much younger but still visibly plump Dolores Umbridge. She pointed at the image with a sly grin. "That one could definitely do with taking the stairs."
"Exactly," Harry agreed, nodding in approval. The shared moment of laughter echoed through the kitchen, a brief respite in the midst of their darker dealings. It seemed that, even in the wizarding world's bureaucratic chaos, Harry found a source of entertainment – and perhaps a subtle way to exact a measure of poetic justice.
"Have you decided on what to do about Cissa's problem?" Bellatrix asked curiously, her dark eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Oh, I'm definitely doing it; I just want to make her sweat a bit," Harry replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Good, this place is getting depressing," Bellatrix commented, her breakfast materializing on the table as she took her seat.
"I'll visit her tomorrow then and tell her I will take the job," Harry decided after a moment of contemplation.
"I hope you get this done quick so I can play on the beach," Bellatrix exclaimed excitedly.
"I'll take care of it," Harry assured her, his determination clear in his voice.
"Oh, Harry, I am going shopping with Andy later, so you have the place to yourself this afternoon," Bellatrix informed him matter-of-factly.
"Alright, I might do some more research into Lord Parkinson's wards," Harry said with a casual shrug.
"Good. Now that we have a couple of hours, there's something I want to say," Bellatrix declared with a mischievous grin.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's that?" he asked, genuinely intrigued.
"Mudblood," Bellatrix whispered huskily, her eyes locking onto his with a daring intensity that hinted at the provocative game she was about to play.
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