An Eternal Contract

July 3rd 1997

Harry Potter pinched the fabric, pulling the shimmering cloak off of his form. The two goblin guards that stood sentry on the front steps of Gringotts Bank startled at his sudden appearance. Harry shot them an apologetic smile as he ascended the steps.

He waited in a side room having requested that, for his own safety and anonymity, he be given a place to wait away from the public. The goblin teller had acquiesced after Harry had slipped him a few galleons.

He paced the floor of the small room, twirling his holly wand in between his fingers. It was a rather unpleasant business he would be undertaking that day, but he had decided days prior that it was necessary.

The door opened, revealing a goblin and a wizard. The wizard paused in muted shock at Harry's appearance but the goblin barely spared Harry a glance before taking a seat at the head of the oval wooden table within the room.

"Sit," the goblin said, curtly.

They sat. Harry looked across the table at the wizard and couldn't help but feel some familiarity with the man. He was a few inches taller than Harry, his big belly necessitated some space between himself and the edge of the table. His hair was a fair colour, and when he spoke with his mellow, pleasant voice, Harry's shoulders released some of their tension.

"Mr. Potter," the wizard said. "Allow me to introduce myself and my associate. Our friend here is Gornuk. We have worked together for many years on drafting wills and other bequeathments for Britain's magical community. I am solicitor Edward Tonks, but you can call me Ted."

Harry's eyebrows raised. "Any relation to Nymphadora Tonks?" he asked eagerly.

Ted gave Harry a warm smile. "Ah, I see you're acquainted with our Dora. I must confess, I was surprised to see you alone, Mr. Potter. You're usually with some sort of security detail, from what I gather. Completely understandable, under these circumstances."

"Please call me Harry," then Harry flushed in embarrassment. "Er, yeah. Well, you see… I didn't think they'd let me come and… I really needed to come, so…"

Ted chuckled. "It's none of my business how you got here," he placated. "Now that you're here, though…"

Gornuk grunted and glared at Ted. "So we're finished with these pointless frivolities, then? We're ready to get to business? Time is gold, Tonks."

Ted gave Gornuk an indulgent smile. "Ah, Gornuk, surely you see the value in good customer service? If I treat Harry well, then he's more likely to refer me to his friends." Ted winked at Harry, who was grinning at his cheekiness.

He liked Tonks' dad, Harry decided.

"Anyways," said Ted, breaking the staring contest he was having with the grouchy goblin. "You want to create a will, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. "There is kind of a big possibility that I'll die and… I want to make sure that my friends are taken care of and stuff."

"Indeed," Ted pulled a sheet of parchment from a leather portfolio. "I have your letter that explained the situation as well as your specific bequeathments. We invited you here because of a couple of issues with the nature of the bequeathments themselves."

Harry frowned. "Er… what sort of issues?"

Ted pulled a pair of spectacles from his pocket and placed them on the bridge of his nose. He scanned down the document listing the items. "Your Firebolt Broomstick goes to one Ginevra Weasley… no problems there. Your Cloak of Invisibility to one Ronald Weasley… that's fine too. It's the other two bequeathments that we have issues with."

"The Black and Potter holdings," Gornuk supplied tersely.

"Quite," Ted agreed. "Wizarding inheritance law states that Family Vaults must go to the nearest of kin. That is to say, someone with blood shared by that family or otherwise adopted parties. The Potter Vault—Vault 687—will become defunct and be seized by the Ministry of Magic in the event of your death. You, unfortunately, cannot leave it to one…" He checked the paper. "Hermione Granger."

Harry let out a frustrated breath. "And the Black Vault?"

Ted gave him a sympathetic smile. "Will go to next of kin, which, in this case, is split Narcissa Malfoy neé Black, Bellatrix Lestrange neé Black, and my beloved wife, Andromeda Tonks neé Black. Unfortunately, due to the fact that Andy was cast from House Black, it will be split evenly between my remaining two in-laws."

Harry stood to his feet and began pacing the room again. "There must be something I can do!" he exclaimed. "The gold I got from Sirius… Grimmauld Place… We can't let the Death Eaters have it!"

Ted held up his hands in supplication. "Easy, Harry. This is why we're here. We're going to help write a legally binding document that will address your needs."

Harry inhaled and then exhaled and retook his place at the table. "Alright," he said. His startling green eyes held Ted with their intensity. "What can we do?"

Ted smiled genially. "For the Black Family, it's actually rather simple. You wanted to split the contents of Vault 711 between Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin. You also wanted to bequeath Grimmauld Place to Mr. Lupin. Unfortunately, neither Mr. Weasley nor Mr. Lupin have sufficient Black blood. Sirius was able to bypass this restriction by formally adopting you into the Black Family. He was already your Godfather, which is a sort of magical adoption in itself, so it was only a bit more paperwork and magic to make you a Son of Black."

Harry's mouth was agape. He felt a heat rise in his throat, and he swallowed thickly, trying to keep his feelings at bay. "I… I didn't know."

Ted frowned. "I suppose he never got around to telling you. In any case, you will assume the Head of the House of Black when you turn seventeen, which is in about a month. At that time, you will be able to designate an heir. If they have no Black blood, you must adopt them by blood and magic. Or, you may designate someone with sufficient Black blood as the heir, no adoption required."

Harry nodded along before an idea began to form in his mind. "Could I… could I make Tonks—er—Nymphadora my heir?"

Ted nodded. "You should know that other than the three Black sisters I mentioned earlier, Dora and Draco Malfoy are the only other candidates for heir."

Harry toyed with the idea of adopting Ron or Hermione as his child. It would be good for a laugh, at least. "Could I… adopt Remus?"

Ted sighed. "This is the other area of Wizarding Inheritance Law which is causing some issues in your will. Remus is not considered a wizard under the law. He is defined as a creature. As a creature, Remus could not inherit anything."

Harry scowled. "What utter bollocks! Those absolute wankers—"

"It gets worse," Ted cut in. He slumped a little in his chair, and he suddenly appeared ten years older. "There is a law which says that Muggleborns, such as myself and your friend Ms. Granger, are prohibited from inheriting from Families above a certain age. As the Potters are an old family…"

Harry was aghast, his rant completely extinguished. "You're saying… I can't leave anything to Hermione!?"

Ted went on to explain the jurisprudence behind the current laws, but Harry was only half-listening. He thought of his friend, her wild hair and bossy temperament. Although he had never told anyone, he knew that she was the one who most deserved her inheritance. She was the closest friend and confidant he had in his life.

When times were good, he felt closer to Ron. They could goof off together and drive Hermione spare with their lack of diligence. They could skive off class, play chess, and talk Quidditch for hours.

But when times were bad, when shit got real, as they always seemed to whenever Harry was involved, Hermione was his rock. From chasing after the Philosopher's Stone, to researching the Basilisk, to freeing Sirius, to training for the Tournament, to breaking into the Ministry, to preparing for the Horcrux Hunt… Hermione was a fixture in his life. She was the one he could count on, above all others.

The sheer injustice of not being able to repay her, even in death, was so crushing that it took Ted shaking his shoulder to bring him back from the roiling hot indignance churning in his belly.

Ted looked concernedly at Harry, who had gone completely silent. "You alright, son?"

"I have to take care of Hermione… that's non-negotiable," Harry's voice was tight, but Ted could hear the conviction in it. "What do I have to do?"

Ted nodded. "You could adopt her. You would need to come into Gringotts together to perform the blood ritual after you reach your majority, but she would become a Daughter of the House of Potter and could therefore inherit."

Harry chewed on his thumbnail. He wondered if they would be able to get away from the Burrow to conduct the ritual. Hermione was planning to spend some time with her parents and then head to the Burrow after a few weeks. He knew he would end up going to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding, but he didn't like his odds of being able to leave with Hermione, even for a short time. The Order, and especially Mrs. Weasley, would be watching him like a hawk. Especially since they would discover that he had left on his own that very day.

He looked at Ted again. "Is there no other way?"

"Well," Ted cleared his throat. "There is one other way…"

July 30th 1997

"You want me to what?!"

"It's not that I want you! Er—I mean—I do! No—er—bugger!"

"Language, Harry."

"Sorry."

They stood in silence for a long moment, neither meeting the other's eyes.

"Harry, surely there is some other way," Hermione implored. "And you're not going to die regardless, so this discussion is pointless."

Harry sighed. "I'm not planning to die, Hermione. I just… I want to make sure that you inherit. If it happens. I mean, it's not like it's impossible. I've got a stupidly powerful lunatic after me. And the… hunt won't be particularly safe, will it?"

"Harry, you shouldn't think that way!" Hermione admonished. She worried her lip, and Harry watched in rapt attention, unable to turn away, despite himself.

He cleared his throat. "I thought you'd be happy that I was preparing for contingencies."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Not when they are contingent on your death!"

Harry's shoulders slumped. "So, that's a no, then? I suppose we'll just have to do the blood adoption in Gringotts somehow…"

"Harry… I don't need your money. My parents are well off and—"

"It's not about the money, Hermione!" Harry cut in. He took three steps towards her, crossing her and Ginny's shared room in the Burrow so that he stood right in front of her. "Don't you see? Even if we win, everything is working against you. Everything! This entire society hates Muggleborns. You'll have difficulty getting jobs, banking, starting a family—Everything! It'll be far easier if you belong to an established family and—"

Harry cut off his tirade and looked away, blinking back tears. "And I know it's selfish... but I don't want my family name to die… If the worst happens… If I die and he wins," he turned to her, eyes red-rimmed. He reached out and took her hands in his. "The Weasleys will fight on, but even if we lose… they're Purebloods. They have a chance. But you… Promise me you'll leave. Promise me you'll go to France or the States. I… don't want anything to happen to you."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. He could feel the wetness of her tears through his t-shirt. They stood there for a long while, until they heard the tell-tale sound of Mrs. Weasley stomping up the stairs, no doubt to find them. Harry pulled away from her.

"Hermione," he said desperately. "Please!"

She wiped away the tears from her cheeks. "I can't promise you that, Harry. I'm so sorry. We're going to win. You're going to live. You'll see." She turned and opened the door, intercepting Mrs. Weasley in the hall, no doubt to give Harry a moment to collect himself.

He heard them walk down the stairs together. He turned toward the window overlooking the back garden of the Burrow.

He prayed to Magic itself that Hermione was right.

December 24th 1997

He watched in reverence as Hermione conjured a wreath of Christmas roses in the air in front of them. He caught them as she completed her conjuration and leaned them up against his parents' grave. He thought it was rather nice, in a macabre way, that his parents shared a headstone. That even in death, they were together.

"...then I declare you bonded for life." The words of the officiating wizard came to him then, clear in his memory, spoken with a sobriety that had seemed out of place amid the balloons and streamers and jubilance that characterised Bill and Fleur's wedding. But it was only now that he understood what those words must have meant to that wizard. He wondered if Bill and Fleur had truly understood. That marriage was not an extended tryst of moments in a broom closet, nor was it merely love and happiness and family— all of the things that Harry had so yearned for in his life.

Marriage was an eternal contract to share one's life and to share one's death.

He stepped back and placed an arm around Hermione's shoulders. She placed her arm around his waist and burrowed into his side. He looked down at her. Her nose was red from the cold and the tears. Her tears flowed down her cheeks, dripped off her chin, and landed softly in the snow below. She noticed his gaze and looked up at him with concern in her large, warm eyes.

Harry looked at her like he'd never seen her before. She looked breathtaking, and Harry quickly looked away, not wanting to lose himself in her visage. He sucked in a desperate breath, realizing with a start that he had forgotten to breathe.

"Hermione?" Her name came out broken from the disuse of his voice.

"Yes, Harry?" she asked. Her voice was soft, kind, and patient.

"Thank you."

"Of course, Harry."

After another extended silence, he spoke again. "Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Will you marry me?"

She stiffened around him and then relaxed again with an audible sigh. "Harry, not this again."

"The solicitor said my mum got a lot of protection when she married my dad. That and the war… it was part of why they married so young."

"Harry…"

"We don't have to do married people stuff, Hermione. It's a legal thing."

Hermione giggled. Harry was startled by the sound. Hermione didn't giggle.

She looked up at him with mirth. "'Married people stuff?'"

Harry's face flushed, and he looked away. "Er—yeah."

"Like what, Harry?"

"Er—dunno. Stuff," He finished lamely. He felt hot, despite the snow.

Hermione tried to hide her laughter but failed. Harry huffed in annoyance. When he looked towards her after some moments, she was staring at his parents' grave. Oddly, she wore a wistful expression.

"I want to get married because someone loves me and I love them," she looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Is that so wrong of me?"

This time, Harry didn't even try to look away. "Not at all."

May 2nd 1998

Harry gasped, stumbling backwards and falling on his rear. From his place on the floor, he looked up at the stone basin that held Snape's memories.

It felt as if his head was full of static. No thoughts, only a bright, crackling white noise. He had been awake for over twenty-four hours, but at that moment, he didn't feel tired. He didn't feel anything. He was numb.

After the hellish year he had had… after Dumbledore's death and countless others, it seemed that he would die today as well.

He made his way out of the Headmaster's Office in a daze. He threw his father's Cloak over his head, not wanting to talk to anyone. His feet led him to the Great Hall, and what he found took his breath away.

Rows and rows of bodies were laid out in makeshift cots and mats. The scent of blood and smoke filled the previously lively Hall. It hung over everything like a grim shadow. He walked down the aisle and saw the corpses of former classmates. Adults, children, and teenagers, Purebloods, Half-bloods, and Muggleborns all equal in death.

Then he saw Remus and felt his knees go weak. He wanted to cry, but he had no more tears. The numbness burrowed deeper into his core. He followed Remus' outstretched arm to the still form of Nymphadora Tonks. The stillness seemed so wrong on a woman who had been so lively. Remus was the last connection to his parents, and now he was gone, too. The man had finally found love and happiness with Tonks. The man had just become a father. He had made Harry Godfather. His Godson, Edward Lupin. The son of his friend and his heir.

His heir.

He sucked in a tight breath. He had completed the blood ritual at Shell Cottage to adopt little Teddy as his Godson. But now… he supposed Teddy had a stronger claim to the Black title than Draco. Hopefully, Tonks had made Teddy her heir before she died.

Harry sighed. There was nothing for it. What did it matter anyway? Unless Voldemort was killed, there was no point in inheritance squabbles. It was a sizable fortune. Hopefully, Andromeda had the wherewithal to flee Britain at the first news of defeat.

Then, his attention fell on a familiar mane of bushy hair.

Hermione.

They had not spoken of inheritance in many months. The Horcrux Hunt had rapidly monopolised their time and attention. But now… maybe he could try one last time.

Hermione was sitting on the steps leading to the dais at the front of the Hall. He reached down and pulled her up by her arm. She startled at some invisible force touching her, but quickly settled as she realised what was happening.

Harry pulled her into an antechamber off the Great Hall, the same one that the Triwizard Champions had congregated in after the Goblet had released its names. It was blessedly empty, and Harry pulled Hermione in, closed the door behind him, and locked it with a murmured "Colloportus," Draco Malfoy's Hawthorne wand ever-agreeable in his hand.

He slipped the cloak off himself and turned to Hermione, who was already firing off questions. "Harry! What did Snape show you? Was there anything useful? Did Ron find you? Where is he? Oh, Harry, you must've missed each other! Let's go—"

"Marry me."

Hermione stopped mid-step and turned back to Harry with an expression of bewilderment on her face.

"What?"

"Marry me," Harry repeated. He didn't meet her eyes, and his affect was so flat that it gave her pause.

"Harry… this isn't the time. We—we've got to find Ron and—and we…"

"I'm out of time, Hermione," Harry said barely above a whisper.

"Harry…" her voice broke, and she looked at him with a pleading look. At the sight of tears running down her cheeks, a surge of emotion pierced through the veil of numbness. He gasped at the sudden pain in his chest.

"I'm one of them," he croaked. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

She was upon him in an instant, burying her face in his chest, and shaking with terrible tremors. With arms that felt like lead, he pulled her into him and stroked her bushy hair.

"You're brilliant," he murmured. "When did you figure it out? I had to hear it from bloody Snape."

Her shoulders shook, but she didn't respond.

Harry sighed. "Please marry me. Go to France, empty my vault, and then go be with your parents in Australia. Take Ron with you and—" his breath hitched. "It—it doesn't have to be with him, but… one day… name one of your kids Potter."

She shoved him away so roughly that he lost his balance.

When he looked up from his place on the floor, her expression was thunderous.

"Harry James Potter," she hissed. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and it frightened him more than if she were screaming. "You utter fool. You think that after everything… after they've killed my best friend… You think that I'm just going to run?!"

"Hermione—"

"NO!" she bellowed. Her magic spun wildly around her, tousling her mane, whose hairs were standing on their ends. Her voice dropped to a low growl. "I won't stop until those monsters are a red paste. I'll burn their bloody manors to the ground and salt the bloody earth where they stood! I'll kill Voldemort myself!"

Harry scrambled to his feet and grabbed her into a tight hug. She stiffened and tried to push him away again, but he only held her tighter. Soon, her magic had yielded, and she was sobbing.

"I love you, Hermione," he muttered. "I just want you to be safe and happy."

"H-how can I be happy without you?" she managed between sobs.

"Ron will—"

"Ron isn't you!" she cried. Harry's breath slid out of him, and he felt his eyes burn with tears. "You're my closest friend. I love you, too."

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him. Her tears had washed away some of the grime and soot from the day, leaving tracks of clean skin where they had been. Some of her hair was matted to her forehead by blood that had congealed around a cut on her temple.

She looked beautiful, and Harry was hit with such a large wave of affection for her that he forgot to breathe.

"Hermione," he whispered. "Marry me."

Hermione bit her lip and only hesitated for a moment. "Okay, Harry."

They found McGonagall transfiguring more makeshift beds. She was utterly bewildered by their request, but soon acquiesced when Harry had started to explain the inheritance laws.

She had cut off his explanation. "Normally, I'd take points for waiting until the last minute like this. However, we do not have time for dalliances. I will trust your judgement on this, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger."

McGonagall ushered them into her office and pulled a book of rites from a nearby shelf.

Ron appeared halfway through the abridged ceremony, Marauder's Map in hand, and Harry's heart sank at the look of betrayal on his face.

They all spoke at once.

"How could you—"

"Mate, it's—"

"Ron, wait—"

They bickered for a few minutes before Hermione lost her patience, hit Ron with a full-body bind, and silenced him. McGonagall raised a brow but continued to officiate.

When the time came for the kiss, Hermione turned to Ron's frozen form and said, "I promise I'll explain everything, Ron."

Then she turned and kissed Harry.

A golden din of magic emanated from their union. It shimmered in the air like heat haze, enveloping them both.

One arm automatically came to the small of her back, and the other cupped her cheek. Hermione's mouth tasted like salt, blood, and ash. He supposed his own wasn't much better. He kissed her deeper, exploring her soft lips, running his tongue along her teeth.

Their kiss lasted longer than strictly necessary, especially with Ron watching on, but Harry couldn't find it within himself to care. Ron would have Hermione for the rest of their lives. Harry could steal a few seconds.

When they pulled away, Hermione's face crumpled and she began sobbing again. Harry walked towards Ron, whose eyes looked murderous. Harry gave him a sad smile. "Take care of her."

Then, he slipped his cloak over his head and walked out of the castle toward the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, the wrath of Lord Voldemort, and the sweet embrace of Death.