CHAPTER 36: ECHOES OF THE BLACKS

Later, as they approached the alley where the meeting would take place, Harry's mind shifted to the next part of his plan. He had people to manipulate, situations to control. And a new level of power to wield. The pieces were falling into place, one after the other. Each person, each step, was calculated.

"I trust you'll keep your end of the bargain?" he asked Narcissa, his voice steady and commanding.

"Of course," she replied, her expression cool and controlled. "You know I never break my word."

"Good," Harry nodded. "You'll find out what happens when you keep your word to me. There's more to come, more to take, more to control. I'm not done yet, Narcissa."

She gave him a sly smile. "And I'm with you every step of the way."

Harry's eyes gleamed. "Good," he repeated. "Because this... this is only the beginning."

With every step, Harry's plans solidified in his mind. He wasn't the young boy who once feared the unknown. He was the one who made the unknown bend to his will. As they reached the next phase of their journey, Harry knew he was not just a player anymore—he was the one who controlled the game.

And everyone else? They were just pawns.

Harry's mind raced as he scanned the hall, calculating, assessing, already forming plans. The Macmillan situation was a stark reminder of just how fragile the world was becoming. His thoughts flickered to Tom, who was always one step ahead, but Harry was starting to see the edges of his own path. Power, control, influence—he needed all of it, and he needed it now. A hundred girls? Maybe more. Every piece could serve a purpose.

As Susan approached, Harry leaned back, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. She looked concerned, a little out of place amidst the chaos. She always had that earnest, goody-goody air about her. He couldn't help but wonder how she'd respond if he really tested her loyalty.

"Harry," Susan said softly, her voice laced with concern. "Are you okay? I haven't seen you around much lately."

Harry studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm fine. Just… sorting things out. You know how it is. Things are getting complicated." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a more conspiratorial tone. "You've heard about the Macmillans, right?"

Susan nodded, her brow furrowing. "It's terrible. What happened to them was just—awful. Ernie must be going through so much."

Harry gave a tight smile. "That's what happens when you play the game with the wrong players. You don't have to worry about it, Susan." His voice turned sharper. "But you might want to start thinking about where you stand in all of this."

She blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

He tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction closely. "I mean that things are about to get very messy. You're not just a bystander anymore. You're part of this world, whether you like it or not."

Susan's eyes flickered uncertainly, but she didn't back down. "I'm not going to stand by while people hurt each other, Harry. You know that."

Harry's smile widened, though there was no warmth behind it. "Good. I like that you're not blind. But in this world, standing aside isn't an option. You have to pick a side eventually. And when the time comes, make sure you know which one you're on."

Susan's expression softened, but she was still uneasy. "I don't know if I want to be part of whatever this is," she said quietly, the weight of his words pressing down on her.

He leaned back, considering her for a moment. "No one really gets a choice in the end. But you can choose to be useful. Or you can choose to be a pawn. Your choice."

He saw her face harden slightly, though she didn't respond immediately. Harry turned his attention back to the rest of the hall, the flicker of interest he had for Susan already fading. His mind was already elsewhere, focused on his next move.

Daphne caught his eye again, and this time, she didn't look away. There was something there—something almost like recognition, but not quite. He held her gaze for a moment longer before turning back to Ron, who had resumed his endless chatter about Quidditch, oblivious to the storm Harry was already brewing in his mind.

Amelia sighed heavily, her stern features softening for a brief moment as she met Harry's eyes. "We're still trying to figure that out. The Macmillans weren't exactly in Voldemort's inner circle, but the timing is telling. The Dark Mark over their house isn't just a message; it's a warning. Whoever did this wants us to know they're still out there, watching." She paused, then added, "The connection to my election campaign isn't lost on me either. The Macmillans did make a substantial donation recently, and we both know what that means in times like these."

Harry leaned back against the desk, arms folded, careful not to reveal too much of his thoughts. The last thing he needed was to give away any hint of his own involvement or suspicions. "It could be a tactic to destabilize your support base," he mused aloud, though his mind was racing. "They're trying to make you vulnerable before the election, make people question your safety."

"Exactly." Amelia's expression darkened as she paced the room. "And that's why I'm here. There's no way this was a random attack. This was orchestrated to send a message, and it's likely from someone who knows the inner workings of my campaign." She turned to face Harry, her eyes sharp. "I need to know where you stand on this. Your family's power, your influence—it could help change the tide in my favor, Harry. You've got people who owe you loyalty, who would follow your lead. I need your support, or the Bones family could lose everything we've built."

Harry didn't react immediately. He wasn't sure how far Amelia was willing to go to secure that support, but he knew she wasn't a woman to back down easily. The Bones family had always been staunchly neutral, not overly inclined toward the Dark Lord's followers or Dumbledore's side, but that was shifting now, and it made Harry think. If he could position himself as a key player in her rise to power, it might give him leverage when the time came to challenge Tom.

"I don't need to tell you, Lady Bones, that my support isn't easily earned," Harry said carefully, making sure to use her title to remind her that he was still assessing her, still in control of this conversation. "I've been making my own moves, gathering my own resources. But I'll be honest: I don't do favors for free."

"I understand," Amelia said, her voice hardening with resolve. "And I'm not asking for charity. I'm asking for an alliance, one that benefits both of us. You're moving up in the world, Harry. You've got power, influence—there's no denying that. If you back me, you'll have someone who will owe you more than just favors. You'll have an ally at the very heart of the Ministry."

Harry's mind whirred, contemplating the offer. Amelia Bones was a powerful figure, but could he trust her to keep her word? What was the real cost of such an alliance? And more importantly, how could he turn this to his advantage?

"I'll think about it," he said at last, pushing off from the desk. "But don't mistake my silence for indifference. You're right that this could be beneficial for both of us, but I'll need to know more. I'll need guarantees, Amelia. Not just words."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," she replied, her gaze unwavering. "I'll send you a proposal, something more concrete. You'll see what I'm offering, and then we can decide how best to proceed."

As he walked toward the door, Harry paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Don't forget, Lady Bones—no one makes it to the top without breaking a few rules."

Amelia's lips twitched in what might have been the start of a smile, but the sternness returned before it could fully form. "I'm well aware of that, Harry."

With that, he left the room, Susan trailing behind him, her expression unreadable. Harry's thoughts raced. The Bones family was a powerful ally to have, but only if he could control the terms of their alliance. There were still pieces on the board he needed to move around, but with Amelia at his side—or under his thumb—he could start to carve a path that would lead him straight to the top.

Harry smirked, letting the comment slide off his back. He knew the risks of appearing too public about his wealth and status, but it was a small price to pay for what he intended to accomplish. "Yes, I'm Emancipated," he said with a shrug, "but I'm not stupid. I know how the Ministry works. Taxing someone like me when they know the Potter name still carries weight—well, it's a mistake. It's not just about the money. It's about sending a message that I'm not to be messed with."

Amelia stared at him for a moment, eyes calculating. "I can see that. Alright, I'll get it wiped, but it'll be under the radar, for your sake. You won't find it in any public records."

"Good." Harry's tone was firm, and he made a mental note of how easily she was willing to bend to his will. He couldn't let that kind of power go unchecked—he needed to ensure that he could push her further when the time came. "Ambassador status, the Apparition license… we have a deal. Just remember, I'll be keeping an eye on you. You'll need to deliver when I call."

"I know how to honor a deal," Amelia replied, her voice tinged with a quiet confidence. "And believe me, we'll need each other more than you think. The battle against Voldemort is bigger than either of us. You might not be ready to fight him head-on just yet, but the Ministry needs someone with your connections, your influence, to stand with us."

Harry thought about that for a moment. He didn't need to tell her about his own plans to gather strength first. Not yet. If he played his cards right, he could use the Ministry as a distraction, a means of control, while building up his own empire in the background. And when the time came, he would be ready.

"Alright," Harry said, straightening up and offering her a knowing smile. "We'll play it your way for now, Amelia. But remember—this isn't charity. I'll expect results. And you'd better be ready for when I decide it's time to strike."

Amelia stood as well, her gaze sharp. "You know where to find me, Harry. We're in this together, for as long as you choose to play the game."

As they shook hands, Harry felt the weight of the moment. He was stepping deeper into the web of power, making alliances that would be crucial in the long run. But he couldn't afford to be too trusting, not with someone like Amelia. He needed to be in control, pulling the strings, even if it meant playing along for a little while.

As he left the classroom, Susan's sharp eyes followed him, and for the first time, Harry wondered just how much the Bones family really knew about him. Was this all just politics to them? Or was there something more? He couldn't be sure, but one thing was certain: he would keep moving forward, testing the limits of his influence, until there was nothing left to stop him.

Amelia raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. "What do you mean by 'the other condition'?"

Harry smiled, a cold glint in his eyes. "The Black name is coming back into play. And when it does, I want full recognition of the House of Black's inheritance rights, including the titles and estates. That means the Ministry acknowledging Lord Black's rightful place in the Wizarding hierarchy, as well as all associated privileges."

Amelia's gaze hardened, as if she were weighing the implications. "You want more than just a political favor. You want power."

"Exactly," Harry replied, his tone unwavering. "The Black family was one of the most influential in Wizarding society, and their assets are... considerable. It's time they were restored. It's not just about Sirius—though I'd like the Ministry to give him the restitution he deserves—it's about ensuring that the Blacks, and by extension, I, have the rightful claim to what was taken from us. The Ministry will need to officially recognize the House of Black."

Amelia studied him carefully, her expression betraying nothing. "That's going to be a difficult sell. You're asking for something that hasn't been done in generations. The Black family, like the Potters, was considered too volatile to return to the public eye, let alone have their full wealth and titles restored."

Harry chuckled darkly. "The Ministry has no choice. If I'm to fully support your campaign—and keep things moving in our direction—these are the terms. You want to get rid of Fudge and make a meaningful change? Then make the House of Black legitimate again. And make sure that Sirius is publicly exonerated."

The room grew tense. Amelia didn't immediately respond, her mind clearly processing the magnitude of Harry's demands. Finally, she spoke, her voice low and thoughtful. "You're not just playing the political game, are you? This is personal."

Harry's eyes gleamed. "This is about power. The Ministry can either give it to me, or I'll take it by force. I'm willing to let things go on the surface, but you and I both know that if I'm ever going to lead this country, it has to start with solidifying my place, and the House of Black is a key part of that."

Amelia was quiet for a long moment, before she sighed. "Alright. I'll make sure we push the issue with the Wizengamot. I can't promise quick results, but I'll use every ounce of my influence to get Sirius cleared and the Black name reinstated."

"Good," Harry said, his voice cool and confident. "And if Cartwright makes a move? Well, as we discussed, I'll make sure I'm 'too busy' to deal with him."

"Deal," she replied, giving him a sharp nod. "Consider the Black name your ticket to power, Harry. Just... don't take too long to cash it in."

As Harry turned to leave, the weight of the conversation settling in, he knew things were moving in his favor. The pieces were falling into place: the Black name, Sirius' innocence, the Ministry's corruption—all of it was becoming a tool he could wield. And once he had full control over the pieces of his game, he would make his move, a move that would change everything.

Amelia's expression darkened at the mention of Umbridge. "I've heard reports. She's losing her grip, but she's dangerous when she's desperate. The Ministry is a breeding ground for rats, but Umbridge is the kind that'll gnaw through anything to get what she wants."

Harry nodded, his thoughts racing. "She's pushing the boundaries, and I'm starting to wonder if she's acting on her own or if someone's pulling her strings. If it's the latter..."

"Then you've got a much bigger problem on your hands than I thought," Amelia interjected. "Umbridge's loyalties are... flexible. She's not above betraying anyone to climb higher. But if someone else is manipulating her, it's a problem we'll need to address immediately. If it's the Dark Lord, he's making his move, and if it's someone else—well, that could change the entire balance of power in the Ministry. I'll have my team look into it, but I need you to stay focused. Don't let her distract you from the bigger picture, Harry."

"I know. But I need her dealt with sooner rather than later. She's making waves, and I'm not sure how much longer I can ignore her," Harry said, feeling the weight of the situation press on him.

Amelia's eyes flickered to Susan, then back to Harry. "I'll take care of it. Umbridge is already under scrutiny from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If she's overstepping, we'll expose it. But you, Harry... keep your cards close. You're playing a dangerous game."

Harry smiled, the words feeling like a personal challenge. "I know how to play the game. I'm not in this to lose."

Susan was still standing by the door, her face a mixture of awe and concern. "What exactly are you planning, Harry?"

"I'm not planning anything that will harm the Ministry, Susan," he said, voice calm. "Just ensuring that when the time comes, the Ministry and its pieces are mine to control."

Amelia gave him a pointed look. "You've got a lot of work ahead of you, Potter. I'm not sure what your endgame is, but make sure it's worth the price. Everything has consequences."

Harry took a deep breath, his thoughts sharp. "I know. But sometimes, you have to push a little harder to make the world listen."

Amelia sighed. "You're not wrong. Alright, then. I'll take care of Umbridge. You get back to your business. And just remember—you're playing a game of politics now, not just magic. You can't win by brute force alone."

Harry smiled, his eyes cold with determination. "I'm aware. But force still has its place." He turned to Susan. "You'll be okay with this, right? Watching those memories?"

Susan hesitated but nodded. "Yeah. If it helps."

"Good," Harry said, standing up and adjusting his robes. "Amelia, Susan, I'll see you both soon."

Amelia's smile widened at his words, though there was an edge to it. "Good. Because with that kind of loyalty, we'll be able to shake things up. The Wizengamot won't know what hit them."

Harry nodded, a confident smile spreading across his face. The pieces were falling into place, and every move he made seemed to bring him closer to the power he desired. The plan with Amelia was set, the Greengrass attack was timed perfectly, and now it was about letting the Ministry's game play out. With Voldemort's visibility growing, the public was ready for a change in leadership—and Harry knew exactly how to manipulate the situation to his advantage.

"Right," he said, standing up straight and extending his hand toward her. "We'll make sure Fudge is out, and we'll do it with enough finesse that no one sees what's coming until it's too late."

Amelia shook his hand firmly. "That's the spirit. But don't forget, Harry, in this game, it's not just about having the pieces in place. It's about knowing when to move them, and how. If you're going to be in the game, you have to be willing to make sacrifices. It's never just the big things—it's the small ones, too."

Harry's grin faltered for a moment, but only for a heartbeat. "I'm ready. We'll make them all see things our way."

"Good," she replied, her eyes glinting with that same sharp intelligence. "I'll be watching. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't," Harry said, his tone a mix of promise and challenge.

With that, Amelia turned and walked out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. As the door clicked shut behind her, he allowed himself a moment to appreciate how far he'd come. The game had shifted, and he was no longer just a player; he was the one who controlled the board.

Harry let out a soft chuckle, though it wasn't a particularly warm one. He let go of her chin, stepping back slightly to give her space, his expression turning more serious. "You think I'm a manipulator, don't you? Maybe I am, but I don't play games when it comes to the people I care about." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "I'm offering you more than just a place at my side. I'm offering you a chance to make real change, not just to be a political pawn or some trophy wife in a war that will consume us all. You're stronger than that, Susan."

Susan stared at him, the tension between them palpable. "I don't know if I can trust you, Harry," she said quietly, her voice tinged with doubt. "You've always been this...this thing I can't quite figure out. And sometimes I feel like I'm not even part of the world you're building. What happens when the war's over? What happens to all of us? You can't just make promises about power and think it'll fix everything."

Harry studied her carefully, noting the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty that had nothing to do with his offers. She wasn't just worried about the future—she was scared of being swept away in something too big to control. But Harry had no intention of letting her fall into the sidelines, and he knew exactly how to keep her close.

"I'm not asking you to follow blindly," he said, voice softer now. "But the world we're heading into isn't going to wait for us to figure out our lives. If we don't make our own way, we'll be crushed under the weight of others' decisions. And I need you with me. Not just for me—but for yourself. You're strong, Susan. You have a chance to wield power, not just stand by and watch. And that's why I'm offering you Lady Potter."

Her eyes narrowed, the flicker of suspicion still in them. "And you think that's all it takes? A title?"

Harry smirked, shaking his head. "No, it's not the title. It's everything that comes with it. You'd be at my side, running things, making the choices. Imagine it—together, we could change things. And it wouldn't be because you're some passive part of my world. It'd be because you're standing on your own, building something that lasts."

Susan bit her lip, her gaze flicking away for a moment, her internal battle evident. "And what about everything else? What about Hannah, what about how things look, how things feel?"

Harry took a step closer, lowering his voice. "You know I don't care what things look like. I care about what's real. And what's real is that you're here, with me, not because of some political game, but because you and I understand what's at stake. So, no matter how you feel right now, trust that this is real, Susan. Trust that what I'm offering is the chance to take control of your own destiny. And we'll do it together."

For a long moment, Susan didn't answer. Then, her shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in her posture easing just a little. She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't know what I'm doing, Harry. But...maybe you're right. Maybe we do need to be on the same side."

Harry reached out and touched her shoulder gently, feeling a flicker of triumph. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "That's all I need to hear, Susie." He smiled, the weight of the situation lightening just a bit. "Now, let's figure out how we're going to shake this world up."

Susan hesitated, then nodded, her expression conflicted but curious. "We'll see. But don't think you've got me all figured out, Harry."

Susan stood still as Harry fastened the necklace around her neck, her breath hitching at the touch, though she didn't pull away. The tension between them was thick, charged with unspoken emotions, and as Harry finished adjusting the necklace, he noticed the change in her expression. She wasn't looking at him the same way she had before.

"Harry," she said softly, her voice a little strained, "I don't want to be some... token. I don't want to just wear something and be protected from spells. That's not what I need from you."

Harry paused, taking a step back to look at her, his expression shifting to something more sincere. "I'm not giving you that necklace to make you feel like a possession, Susan. I... I just wanted you to know that I'm offering you something real. Not just power or titles, but a future. And I'm not going to force you into anything."

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face, as though trying to gauge his sincerity. "And what about everything else? The manipulations, the games you're playing?" she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. "You can't just wave it all away by giving me a necklace or telling me that I'm safe. You want me to choose, Harry, but you've made it so hard for me to trust you."

He exhaled slowly, dropping his hands to his sides. "I get it. I really do. But trust me when I say that everything I'm doing, I'm doing for the war, for the people I care about. You're one of them, Susan. And if I have to get my hands dirty to keep you safe, to keep us all safe, I will. I don't want to make things harder for you—I just want to help."

She shook her head slightly, still not convinced. "And how can I trust that, Harry? How do I know you're not just using me, like you've used everyone else in your life?"

Harry frowned. "I haven't used anyone," he said, a bit more sharply than he intended. "Everything I've done has been to make sure I'm ready to fight Voldemort. To win. If you don't want to be a part of that, that's your choice. But don't act like I'm just out for power or playing games." His words felt heavier than he'd meant them to be, but it was the truth—he wasn't playing games. He was trying to survive, trying to make sure those he cared about didn't get caught in the crossfire.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Susan's fingers brushed the ruby necklace gently, and Harry could see the wheels turning in her mind.

"Fine," she said after a long pause, her voice steady but hesitant. "I'll wear the necklace. But it doesn't mean I'm agreeing to everything, Harry. You're going to have to prove to me that this—" she gestured between them, "—isn't just another one of your schemes."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "That's all I'm asking for. A chance. And when the time comes, I'll prove it."

With that, Susan finally met his gaze, her green eyes hard but softened slightly by something else—maybe the smallest flicker of understanding, or maybe something else he couldn't quite read. She didn't say anything more, but the tension between them seemed to ease, even if just a little.

"Alright," she said, the words a little softer now. "Let's see where this goes."

Harry nodded, feeling the weight of the unspoken promise in the air. There was still a long way to go, but for the first time in a while, he felt like he might be on the right path.

"Good," he said quietly. "I won't let you down."

Susan didn't respond immediately, her fingers still lightly tracing the edge of the necklace. Her eyes were focused on the ruby, but Harry knew the wheels were turning in her mind. The silence lingered, thick with everything that hadn't been said, with the space between them that neither was willing to cross just yet.

Finally, she looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "You say you're doing this for us. For the war, for the people you care about. But Harry," she began, her voice quieter now, "are you sure you know what you're asking for? You're asking me to trust you in ways that go against everything I've been taught. You're asking me to trust you when you've already proven that you'll do anything to get what you want."

Harry swallowed hard, his own emotions rising to the surface. "I don't have a choice, Susan. If I want to beat Voldemort, if I want to end this war, I can't play by the rules anymore. I can't afford to be the naive kid who expects everyone to be good. But that doesn't mean I'm playing you or anyone else. I need people around me who understand the stakes. Who aren't afraid to fight dirty if they have to."

Her eyes flickered with something—was it regret? Or just the weight of understanding? "And what about the people who are going to get hurt along the way, Harry? What happens when they start seeing you for what you're really becoming?"

Harry winced at the question, but he didn't back away from it. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I can't do this without making sacrifices. I'm not asking you to like it, Susan. I'm asking you to stand with me."

Her gaze softened, but just for a moment, before the wall came up again. "You don't get it, do you? I don't need power, Harry. I don't need titles. I don't need to be part of some... whatever this is. What I need is for the people I care about to survive. I need to know that we're going to make it out of this alive. That's all."

Harry's throat tightened, a surge of something unfamiliar coursing through him. For a moment, he thought he might say something that could change everything—that he could tell her how he felt, that he could offer her something more than just a chance to fight. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, he just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I'm not asking you to fight this war for me," he said quietly. "I'm asking you to fight for all of us. Because, in the end, we're going to need each other if we're going to win."

Susan studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she sighed.

"Alright, Harry. I'll stand with you. But don't make me regret it."

He offered a small, strained smile. "I won't."

For a long while, they just stood there in silence, the weight of the conversation hanging heavy in the air. Neither of them was ready to move forward completely, but something had shifted, just enough to leave a sliver of hope between them. The path ahead was uncertain, but at least they were on the same one, for now.

As Harry turned to leave, he glanced back at her once more, his heart still racing from the intensity of their exchange. "We'll make it through this," he said, more to himself than to her. "Together."

Susan didn't say anything in response, but he could see the faintest glimmer of something in her eyes—a hint of trust, maybe. Or at least the possibility of it.

And that, for Harry, was enough—for now.

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