Chapter 27

Narcissa recognised the Potter owl as it flew towards her. Some difficult to identify sensation made her insides quiver. Fear or anticipation? Both?

It was still August so Harry wasn't supposed to be back yet. Still, the familiar owl usually preceded another summons to Grimmauld Place, so it was likely that he had returned early and was sending for her. That squirming sensation got stronger.

As she had expected, it was indeed a summons and Narcissa went back inside to get ready. The letter said to come immediately, which was rude, but she wasn't in a position to complain and it wasn't like she had anything better to do these days. She'd been trying to keep the gardens around Malfoy Manor in some semblance of order, but they were large and she was no gardener.

A quick bath made sure that she was clean and then she was underway. She only stopped to tell Draco that she would be gone for a few hours.

The tightness of his expression revealed that he knew where she was going, not that it was hard to guess. He had become less volatile over the past month, but she still worried about him. The perpetually scowling teenager bore little resemblance to the boisterous child he had once been.

The door to Grimmauld Place was unlocked and she made her way inside without issue, focusing most of her attention on calming her conflicting feelings.

Harry was waiting for her in the foyer, tall and tanned and looking even more handsome than she remembered. His shoulders seemed broader and his pectorals more pronounced. The muggle shirt he was wearing showcased these features well.

"Narcissa." He greeted, giving her a small smile.

"My lord." She said back. A slight flush worked itself up her neck and she averted her gaze from those too-green eyes.

"We'll be going to Potter Manor today." He said and her eyes snapped back up towards his. Did he want to do it there? With his assistant and Cousin Sirius and whoever else lived there present?

"My lord?" Narcissa managed to keep the nervous tremor out of her voice.

"I'll need to introduce you to everyone if you're going to work for me." He explained.

Oh. Then they weren't going to…? Had he lost interest in her while he was on holiday?

"Something wrong?" Harry asked.

"No, of course not." Narcissa said promptly.

"Are you sure?" He sounded amused as he stepped closer, a hand reaching to stroke her cheek.

Narcissa' breath caught as heat pooled in her loins in response to the gesture. "Y-yes."

"You don't sound sure." Harry said musingly, stepping even closer, so close that there was barely any room between them. "Were you hoping for something else, Cissy?"

Narcissa closed her eyes. This was another one of his games, but she couldn't lie. He would know. "Yes."

His hand crept behind her back to take a firm grip of her hair. "I thought so." And then his lips were on hers, demanding and eager and every bit as good as she remembered.

Later.

The introduction to the residents of Potter Manor went well enough. They'd already known that Harry was paying her a stipend and that she would be working for him, so none of them were too surprised by her appearance. The most common emotion was ambivalence. Fleur and Luna simply didn't know her, while Sirius and Penny had past grievances with either Narcissa personally or the Malfoy family in general but weren't cruel enough to advocate leaving her to the wolves.

After that mostly painless experience, Harry, Narcissa and Penny retired to the room that the latter used as her office to discuss the former Mrs. Malfoy's duties.

"You'll be taking over the social aspects of my correspondence; fanmail, hatemail, invitations and anything else that Penny sees fit to pass on to you." Harry was saying, making Narcissa frown.

Harry saw her expression and elaborated. "Yes, you'll be getting most of your work from her. Your other set of duties will of course be to help me navigate Britain's political and social cess pit."

He didn't tell her that Penny would still be doing all of that work herself for a while longer. It would mean having the same work done twice, but he wasn't willing to trust Narcissa quite yet.

Narcissa cleared her expression and nodded her understanding. She didn't like this arrangement, essentially becoming an assistant to… someone so young and ill-suited to being the steward of a noble family. But she didn't like a lot of things in her life lately and would just have to deal with it.

"Then we should discuss your political aims." She said.

"Easy, I don't have any." Harry replied flippantly.

"I see." Narcissa said, not entirely surprised. It was odd for a family head to have no agenda, but not unheard of. Some were more interested in simple profit rather than politics.

"Is that a problem?" He asked.

"Not as such, though you will find yourself courted for support by everyone until your political leanings become known."

"She's right about that." Penny spoke up. "You've already received several dinner invitations while we've been away. They were probably pretty cranky about not getting an answer for so long too."

"They should have realised we weren't home when nobody replied." Harry said with a shrug. He certainly wasn't going to make an announcement in the Prophet every time he was unavailable.

"Those dinner invitations were more likely attempts to curry favor with you, they may even have been hoping to entice you with any daughters they might have." Narcissa added, clearly remembering such events being organised for Bellatrix and Andromeda, though the latter had stormed out and never looked back when their parents had tried to arrange a marriage for her.

"It'll be your job to tell them that they can fuck off then." Harry said dryly.

"Very well." She nodded, unsurprised by his stance on the matter even if his delivery was a bit crude. Only the more traditionalist families still adhered to such practices after all.

"Right, do we have any other business to talk about?" Harry asked, clearly hoping that the answer was negative.

"Your appearance in the Wizengamot." Narcissa disappointed him.

"Do I have to appear in the Wizengamot? I know that Sirius never did."

"Sirius was never the most… responsible of people." She replied carefully, not wanting to offend him.

She had nothing to worry about however, as Harry would certainly not take offense at that sort of accurate observation. "So, more teenage rebellion that he never grew out of?"

"That would be one way of looking at it." She admitted.

"You still haven't told me whether it's really necessarry for me to show up there though."

"It isn't strictly necessary. There are a few cases where attendance is considered mandatory, but they are very rare. If a law is voted on and a member is not present, they are considered to have abstained. The same applies if a trial is conducted."

"And the downsides of not attending?"

"You would have no say in what laws were passed."

Yes, well, that was obvious enough. Harry didn't actually care too much about the law, nor did he care about the country in general. He wasn't sure if he could afford to ignore it though, not with Voldemort's wraith looming over the future like a bad smell. Even putting aside the Dark Lord's hit list that undoubtedly had his name at the very top, leaving Magical Britain lubed up and bent over for him seemed like a bad idea.

What to do about it though? Playing around at lawmaking was all well and good, but Voldemort had even less regard for the law than he did and would do whatever he wanted anyway. What he needed to do was chip away at Voldemort's support base so that he wouldn't be able to just pick up where he left off once he restored himself.

And Harry was pessimistic enough to know that Voldemort would restore himself. He had no leads on the other Horcruxes, so unless Dumbledore managed to actually be useful he'd definitely be coming back eventually.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised just how difficult a task it would be to make the country hostile to Voldemort's ambitions. The laws themselves weren't openly discriminatory for the most part aside from the special privileges given to the nobility, it was the culture itself that was the problem and that wasn't easy to change by any stretch. It could be done, but there simply wasn't time. Voldemort would undoubtedly be back long before anything of note could be accomplished peacefully, even if Harry himself hadn't been planning to go gallivanting around the world.

Dumbledore could have done it. In the wake of Voldemort's defeat fourteen years ago, everything had been perfectly set. Dumbledore held all the important offices and was held in great respect. People would have been happy to lynch any corrupt politicians that got in the way of putting down all of Voldemort's followers that were still at large. He'd had all the time, power and opportunity in the world to make Magical Britain so poisonous to Voldemort's philosophy that the Dark Tosser would have thrown his hands up in frustration and left. Well, maybe not that, but he certainly could have done more than twiddle his thumbs.

But Harry could already imagine what Dumbledore's excuse would be for not making that final push. The country needed time to heal, Harry.

Sometimes he wondered if the old man even saw how diseased the country was. It would have been better to let it bleed a little more so that all the filth was drained out.

Now the opportunity was gone. People had gotten complacent again and the Death Eaters had once more established themselves as pillars of society. The only thing he could think of in the short term was to throw money at the DMLE and hope that they would have enough aurors to hold him off at least for a while.

"How would I go about getting the DMLE's funding increased?" He finally asked.

"Why would you want to do that?" Narcissa asked in surprise.

"Because of reasons." Harry answered unhelpfully.

She frowned at his response but answered anyway. "That is mostly at the discretion of the Minister of Magic, but Fudge has long been paranoid about Amelia Bones wanting to steal his position and will not be inclined to do so." That was something that Lucius had spent years cultivating.

"Hmm." Harry hummed, wondering if he could bully Fudge into it. The moron had no spine to speak of, but he was so terrified of losing his position that he might actually resist that. "What about just getting rid of Fudge an installing Bones as Minister of Magic?"

"Impossible, she's too inflexible. The Wizengamot would never vote her in, not unless the situation was truly dire." Narcissa shook her head.

"And by 'inflexible' I assume you mean 'unwilling to take bribes'?" Harry asked dryly.

"Yes."

"Finding a way to increase the DMLE's funding it is."

"You may have more luck convincing wealthy witches and wizards to make donations to the department." Narcissa suggested. "The Ministry sponsors a ball to commemorate the anniversary of the Dark Lord's defeat every year on Halloween, Lord Ogden will be hosting it this year."

"Ah yes, that ." Harry said sourly. "Fudge has already implied none-too-subtly that he'd like it if I showed up. I suppose you think I should attend?"

"It would be an ideal venue to present yourself as a prominent member of Wizarding Britain's elite, which would in turn make your goals easier to achieve." She shrugged.

"Fine." He conceded grumpily. "What do I need to know about this stupid ball?"

"It will be quite similar to the Yule Ball you had at Hogwarts last year. Formal wear, dancing, a date. The only real difference will be the presence of the press and that there will be more focus on politicking than having fun."

"A date huh?" Harry said, scratching at his chin. "What would happen if I bring two dates? Fleur and Luna."

"The Lovegood girl would reflect poorly on you because she is not considered an adult yet." Narcissa paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words to explain why the sub-human veela was also a poor choice without offending him. "Ms. Delacour would work as a date, but there are many that would wonder at the closeness between you, the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly included."

"Won't they wonder that no matter who I bring?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, but… they would wonder more if it was her." She tried to say as delicately as possible.

"Because she's a veela." It wasn't a question.

"… yes."

Harry was tempted to crack a joke about asking Adrastia to really give people something to talk about, but caution stayed his tongue. That was one association that might be better if it was kept as secret as possible.

Who to take as his date though? He didn't care much about the prejudices of the inbred mouth breathers, but this wasn't a fun occasion. Taking Fleur would not only bring him into inevitable conflict with said mouth breathers, but would also put her in a very uncomfortable situation as they all looked down their noses at her while simultaneously leering at her tits. He could handle a little scuffling and taking her would certainly make a statement, but she would not have a good time there.

Who did that leave?

Dora? Awkward.

Penny? Awkward.

Bryanna or Tiana? Possibly, and it could double as an opportunity to advertise for their store.

…

Harry shot Narcissa a speculative look. The blonde aristocrat still had a certain prestige despite her recent poor fortunes in life. She would work as an advertisement board far better than either Bryanna or Tiana, as well as being far more useful as an information source. Then there was the fact that he was currently supporting her, which would help build up his image if he was going to play this silly social game.

How absurd that the lessons learned from Robert and Katherine which he'd disdained for years were coming in handy just as he'd gotten clear of them.

"You've been to this kind of thing before, right?" He asked.

"Of course, a few have even been hosted in Malfoy Manor." Lucius had been meticulously careful to portray the image of a man glad to be out from under the Dark Lord's 'Imperius'.

"You'll be my date then, Narcissa." Harry said.

"As you wish, my lord." She said with a small smile, very pleased by the unexpected invitation, even if it was more of an order. The social isolation that she'd been suffering since Lucius' death had been starting to get to her and she would relish this chance to get out and about.

"You're not taking Fleur then?" Penny asked unhappily, disappointed that he would cave in to the bigotry pervading Magical Britain.

"She'd be miserable if I took her there." Harry explained with a shake of his head. "I'll take her on a nice date somewhere else. Shit, maybe I'll take her on a date to Paris so that she can spend the whole time gloating about how much better French cuisine is."

"My lord, why are we here?" Narcissa asked, glancing around at the muggle streets and muggle houses and muggle cars. She was also dressed in muggle trousers and a muggle shirt that made her look disgustingly muggle, but when the man that held your future in his hands puts muggle clothes into your hands and tells you to wear them, you didn't complain. At least they weren't uncomfortable, though she would have still prefered robes.

"You'll see." Was all Harry would say as they walked down the streets of Arundel.

They arrived in front of the correct house in short order and Harry rang the doorbell.

Harry had a good idea what kind of schedule the girls had and had timed it so that he would catch Bryanna and Tiana instead of the other two, so he was somewhat surprised when Isabel opened the door.

"Harry?" She questioned with a puzzled frown, looking over at him and the older blonde woman that looked vaguely familiar.

"Isabel." Harry said back, noting that she looked rather frumpy and figuring that it was probably because of her recent breakup. Or perhaps the thing with Sirius. "Are Bryanna and Tiana in?"

"Yeah, they're down in the basement." Isabel said and stood aside to let him enter, making her way back upstairs without another word.

"What a rude girl." Narcissa muttered.

"Nevermind her." Harry said dismissively and led the way towards the basement.

Narcissa looked around curiously as they entered the obviously magically expanded space. It was clearly the work area of a magical seamstress, though the clothing she saw looked more muggle than anything that a self-respecting magical seamstress would make.

"Girls, this is Narcissa Black, formerly Malfoy. I want you to make her something to wear for a formal Ministry sponsored ball." Harry said once they found Bryanna and Tiana.

Narcissa blinked in surprise. She'd been expecting to wear one of her old sets of formal robes, not getting something new made.

"We could do that, but won't you be expected to wear formal robes for an occasion like that?" Tiana said, looking at the blonde woman over with an assessing frown.

"Yes, but I don't like formal robes." He smirked.

"My lord?" Narcissa asked nervously. What exactly did he expect her to wear? Some of the things she was seeing here were a bit… lacking.

"Don't worry, you'll be in good hands here." Harry said.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you, Harry." Both girls cooed.

"Yeah, that's me. Nothing but sweetness." Harry remarked dryly, making them laugh.

"How much time do we have?" Bryanna asked professionally, getting serious. They had never made any formal wear, but the former Mrs. Malfoy would make for an excellent model. She was quite beautiful and had a good shape. Plus, blue-eyed blondes were easy to pick colors for.

"Until Halloween."

"Plenty of time then." Tiana said confidently and then looked at Harry. "What are you going to be wearing though? We need to know so that we don't put her into something that will clash with you."

"I haven't given myself too much thought yet." Harry replied, scratching at his chin. "I know that you girls are focusing on the female side of things, but could you make me a modified set of formal robes? Something similar to the basilisk hide coat maybe? Just stay away from anything overly colorful."

"We could give it a try, men's clothes are generally easier to work with anyway." Bryanna said thoughtfully.

"Good, and just think of all the free publicity this will get you for when you finally open your store." Harry smirked.

Both girls froze, their thoughts having been on the clothes themselves rather than on where they would be worn. They knew well enough to know that women always gossiped about the clothes they were wearing, so if they put Narcissa into something especially eyecatching, everyone would know who had made it before the night was out. That combined with Harry endorsing it would give them a massive leg-up on their business. It would let them muscle in on the high society market that they had abandoned as impenetrable years ago. They might even start a whole new fashion trend.

If they made it look good.

September 24th.

Harry stared at the large whiteboard in consternation. It had a diagram on it, with eight points arranged into a rough circle. Each of the points bore the name of a person that carried one of the ever so useful communication mirrors.

Truly, those things were a marvel of magic, the brainchild of James Potter and Sirius Black, with a large dash of Lily Potter's Charms brilliance thrown in to make it work like a video phone. If only the damn things could be made to work in more than pairs .

Harry figured that he could maybe make a three-way set, but not easily. And it would be fairly moot anyway since there were now eight mirrors in play. Aside from the five residents of Potter Manor, there was also one for Dora, one for the girls in Arundel, most recently one for Narcissa to make summoning her easier and Fleur had just come back from France after visiting her family and requested another mirror for them.

In short, shit was getting complicated. Granted, the pair connecting Fleur to her parents and sister didn't need to be connected to the others, but that wasn't the point.

"I don't zink zis can be done, 'Arry." Fleur said, looking over a page of notes. "Ze spellwork becomes exponentially more complex wiz every new mirror."

She was pretty good at enchanting and Arithmancy, but knew when something was beyond her. Harry's project to make these mirrors more convenient was simply too ambitious.

Harry knew that she was right. With eight mirrors, every one of them would need seven inbound and outbound connections. The modified master-master Protean Charms would get all tangled up even if the mirrors themselves could support that level of enchantment. The diagram was a mess of vectors.

But he wasn't willing to give up on this just yet. Handheld instantaneus communication was simply too useful to abandon the idea, not to mention the potential profit.

It was as he was staring at the empty spot in the center of the diagram that inspiration struck.

"What about… this." He said, quickly erasing all the connections and making another big dot right in the middle. Then he drew two vectors between the center point and every dot representing a person with a mirror. The diagram was now a much more elegant thing

"Zat might actually work." Fleur said, quickly getting up and moving to stand beside him. "Each mirror would only need to carry ze standard enchantment zis way."

"And the central nexus could be made to block incoming connections if one is already active." That had been the other issue that got in the way of multi-mirror connections. If someone tried to establish a connection with a mirror that was already in use, things could get pretty strange.

"But ze enchantment on zis nexus as you call eet would still be very complex." Fleur warned, playing Devil's advocate.

"Especially if I want it to be capable of accepting new connections after it was first made." Harry agreed.

"'Arry…" Fleur was exasperated. They had only just figured out a possible solution to the multi-mirror problem and he was already piling on something else.

"That was always what I was going for." He shrugged. "This way, there won't be any need to link a new mirror with every individual one that was already active. Instead, we can just link it into the nexus and it'll become part of the communication network."

Harry was already dreaming of selling this kind of thing worldwide. Or better yet, renting it out. Best of all, it was a guaranteed success since the mundane world had already more than demonstrated the appeal of a portable communication device.

He would be so rich that the goblins would have a collective heart attack. He'd probably be able to start his own fucking bank if he was so inclined. Well not really since the fucking goblins had made that illegal, but theoretically. And it wouldn't just be galleons either. The Americans and anyone else that wasn't economically shackled to the goblins would want this just as much.

Potter Communications had a very pleasant ring to it.

Halloween.

"Harry Potter, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and the Noble House of Potter. His escort, Narcissa Black. "The herald announced, starting up a loud murmur as everyone's attention was brought to the new arrivals.

Quite a few people present were scandalised at what the former Mrs. Malfoy was wearing. A halter-neck style dress of dark red velvet that left her arms bare and clung to her tighly enough to leave little of her form to the imagination. The skirt was floor length but had a knee high slit on one side to allow a flash of leg to be seen as she walked. There would be even more scandalised looks when they saw that her back was almost entirely bare as well.

Harry's outfit was considerably less eyecatching, but still easily identifiable as having muggle roots. Simple black trousers and a subdued dark green shirt covered by something that could have passed as a modified formal robe or a somewhat eccentric looking black coat that was open in the front.

Narcissa kept her nervousness hidden behind an expressionless mask. She was an old hand at keeping up appearances and pretending that her current outfit didn't make her uncomfortable wasn't that hard.

It was a beautiful piece, she would admit. The material was comfortable, the spellwork kept it smooth and free of unsightly wrinkles, a subtle enchantment made the dark red velvet shimmer wonderfully whenever it caught the light, which was certainly a much better effect than the over-the-top magical additions that some people put on their clothes and another enchantment provided superior support to her bust than anything she'd ever worn. In pure workmanship, she would rate it was being very high quality.

It was however, a severe departure from tradition and left her feeling almost naked. She knew that a bold move like this would have been damaging to her reputation if she had done it on her own. Doing it on Harry Potter's arm would probably let her get away with it, but she was still nervous.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road." Harry murmured so that only she could hear. "You know what to do, so do it well and I'll help you get out of that dress after it's over."

Narcissa shivered slightly at the implied promise. They had met up several more times since he had come back from his vacation and he had left her aching in all the right places every time.

She knew what her job was tonight. Feed him information on the people present and speak only high praise for those girls he was sponsoring and their work. She would help him as best she could, not only because her own fortunes depended on it, but because she had grown to have genuine respect for Harry. And also because she wanted help taking her dress off later.

They made their way towards the host, the aging Lord Tiberius Ogden, to greet him as protocol dictated.

"Lord Ogden set his family in opposition to the Dark Lord during the war, but backed down when a cadet branch of his House was wiped out. He is a principled man, but will put his family above others if it comes to it." Narcissa informed him quietly.

Harry gave her hand a light squeeze to acknowledge her words as they reached the man and exchanged tedius, but necessary, pleasantries.

"I must admit that I was starting to wonder if Fudge was having me on when he said that Harry Potter himself would be attending this year." Ogden said once that was done.

"I underestimated how much time it would take me to prepare, I'm afraid." Harry lied. Narcissa had been the one to suggest that arriving so late would have more impact. She was right of course, though it was also more uncomfortable, but Harry was now a past master of submerging his mind in the peace of Dark to counter such troublesome emotions

"Ah, I see." Ogden nodded in understanding. "Well you're here now, so please enjoy yourselves. This celebration is after all held in honor of your victory over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-named."

"It wasn't much of a victory for me, though I will try to enjoy it in the hope that we don't see a resurgence of those times." Harry said.

Tiberius didn't have much to say in response, though his eyes did soften at the reminder that Harry had lost his parents that day. For some reason, he also felt a sudden swell of worry at the thought of those evil days coming around again.

"That was well done." Narcissa complimented as they walked away.

"We'll see." Harry muttered back. He'd cast a something like a reverse Calming Charm on the old wizard, a Dread Charm, in the hope that he'd be more malleable later. "Fudge is coming over here."

"He's breaching protocol." Narcissa hissed quietly from between her teeth, staring coldly at the approaching Minister. He was wearing snot green robes and looked as if he was about to wet himself.

"Harry, so glad you could make it." Fudge said a few decibels too loudly and sticking out his hand for a shake.

Narcissa's lips thinned at the further breach of protocol. Not only had he approached them before the first dance, but he was speaking too loudly and forcing Harry to let go of her so that he could return the handshake. The entire ballroom was openly staring at them, but Fudge seemed to have such severe tunnel vision that he didn't notice anything other than Harry.

"Cornelius." Harry smiled tersely, something that was naturally lost on Fudge. "You've already met Narcissa Black, I'm sure."

"I have, and might I say that you look stunning." Fudge blustered.

"Thank you." She said. Tersely.

"I must say that I'm surprised to see you two arriving together, especially after the… err, you know." The Minister commented tactlessly, flushing as he realised what he'd just mentioned.

"Lord Potter is now my Head of House and has graciously offered his support after the disgrace my former husband brought on me and my son." Narcissa replied so flintily that even Fudge grasped that he shouldn't mention it again. "Now if you'll excuse us, I believe the first dance is about to start."

She put her arm back into the crook of his elbow and they walked off, leaving the embarrassed politican to retreat to safety.

"I still find it hard to believe that man remembers how to breathe without someone advising him on it." Harry muttered irritably.

Narcissa cracked a brief smile.

Some time later.

Harry was sitting at his table and staring around the room with a calculating gaze.

Narcissa had pointed out everyone of importance to him while they had been dancing and he was considering the information.

There were a lot of problematic people here.

Nott, Avery, Parkinson, Flint, Bulstrode, Mulciber, Dolohov, Travers, Yaxley, Selwyn, Carrow, Rookwood, Rosier. All noble families that Narcissa had fingered as being openly supportive of Voldemort's ideals. Many of them currently had some Death Eater family members in Azkaban or in the grave, while others had managed to weasel out of it in one way or another. Only the Lestranges were all either dead or locked up.

There were plenty of others who weren't noble, but still openly supportive, such as Crabbe and Goyle, and that wasn't even counting the non-British magicals that Voldemort had recruited.

After them came the ones who, while not willing to put on a Death Eater mask, had not been particularly upset about what Voldie had been doing and had been politically obstructive to the resistance against him.

And after them came the fence sitters that had stayed pointedly neutral the last war, such as Greengrass and Davis.

Lastly were the ones who had openly opposed Voldemort to the end, such as the Potter, Longbottom, Bones and… not much else actually. Most of the anti-Voldemort resistance had come from non-nobles, with every other Noble House aside from those three having either kept their heads down from the start, capitulated after Voldemort turned his attention on them or been wiped out. And those three weren't doing so great as far as the number of living members were concerned.

No wonder the war against Voldemort had been going so poorly. The two main players had definitely been Dumbledore and Voldemort, but Voldemort had been far more proactive and able to rally support while Dumbledore had done his mysterious twinkly grandfather act and convened his bird club meetings instead of taking the fight to them.

In Narcissa's best educated guess, roughly half of the remaining Wizengamot families were a problem to one degree or another.

And now he'd inherited this mess because the old goat botherer thought that twiddling one's thumbs was an excellent way to prepare for the second coming of a crazy, pseudo-immortal Dark Lord.

Joy.

Well the most direct plan to make things difficult for Voldemort would be to murder all his followers before he could come back, something that Harry resolved to do if an opportunity presented itself. He wasn't interested in becoming a wanted man at this juncture, so he couldn't go on any reckless killing sprees, but disposing of a free roaming Death Eater if he had a chance wasn't something to be turned down given the circumstances.

The less direct plan was to funnel some money towards the DMLE and hope for the best.

And speaking of money, Harry spotted Lord Parkinson over yonder, apparently in conversation with some Ministry flunky or other.

Narcissa was currently engaged with a group of ladies that included the man's wife, who were no doubt interrogating his date on her dress and making private speculations about what else she was doing for him. If he wasn't mistaken, there was also a reporter from Witch Weekly in there somewhere. Well that was part of the reason that he'd brought her, so she was doing her job.

He'd already been approached by a few reporters and other nosy people himself, but had generally been able to deflect them without any major issue. A few presumably single women were making cow eyes at him, obviously hoping to be invited to dance. Protocol said that the man had to ask for a dance, so they couldn't approach him themselves. Protocol finally being good for something, who would've thunk it?

This was a good a time as any to inform Parkinson that he didn't appreciate being stolen from.

Edward Parkinson, the current Lord Parkinson, started a little when Harry Potter sat down at his table, uninvited.

"Evening." The very young and very dangerous wizard greeted pleasantly.

"Good evening." Edward returned cautiously, not trusting the pleasantness. He shot a look at the Ministry official he'd been talking to.

The man was a lot more perceptive than Fudge and knew when it was time to go. "Excuse me, Lord Parkinson, I think I hear my wife calling me. Lord Potter."

There was no wife calling of course, but an excuse to leave need not be a good one.

"What can I do for you, Lord Potter? Or do you prefer Lord Black?" Edward asked.

"Potter will be fine. As for what you can do for me, well I've heard that you provided the wine for this ball and I came to compliment you on its quality."

Potter's tone was still pleasant, but Edward was now very nervous.

"Thank you, we strive to provide the best." He said.

"You know, I've always wanted to own a vineyard. Pity that the Potter family doesn't seem to have a source of income which would justify the expenditure of purchasing one." Even now, Potter's words were polite and pleasant, but there was suddenly a terrible, frigid mien about him.

In fact, Edward could swear that he saw condensation gathering on the wine glasses. He was reminded eerily of the presence of dementors from back during the war.

"I am sure that a wizard of your skill and stature will be able to turn around the fortunes of his House with little issue. I hear that you are financing the opening of a new clothes store, do you think you will be able to compete with such established businesses as Madam Malkin's and Twilfit and Tattings?" Edward said, trying to deflect the conversation to something less dangerous.

"I won't have to, it will be an altogether different type of clothing store."

Looking over at the escort that Potter brought, Edward couldn't disagree. That dress and what Potter was wearing was nothing like anything sold in either of those two stores. Had Narcissa worn something so bold in a different set of circumstances she would have been called a whore, but nobody was going to risk Potter's anger by calling her that out loud, even if Edward suspected it would have been an accurate appellation.

Narcissa had in fact come to him and his wife for help in the wake of Lucius' death and been turned away exactly because they hadn't wanted to bring Potter's attention to them. What a cruel irony that they had Potter's attention anyway, now with the addition of Narcissa whispering poison into his ear for turning her away. That was why his wife was now with the blonde witch that had been her friend not so long ago, gushing over the dress and being generally ingratiating.

"I wish you the best of luck in your venture." Edward said, though he didn't really mean it. He hated the muggleness of the clothing that was likely going to be sold there. Too bad that with Potter endorsing it, it was likely to be a success no matter what.

"Thank you, but getting back to the vineyard, I must ask how you acquired yours? Who knows, I might get one in a similar way."

Edward twitched at the powerful young wizard's persistence. That unnerving frigidness was still there and there was something disquieting in Potter's eye. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He wanted to lie, say that it had been in his family for generations, but it was too easy to verify and he suspected that Potter already knew anyway. The questions were just a little too pointed.

"I bought it from another family during the war against You-Know-Who." He said, avoiding any mention of it being the Potter family.

"With all the trouble Voldemort was causing back then, it must have been quite the steal ."

Edward flinched at the casual use of the Dark Lord's name, but he felt his blood freeze at the feel of the air. Potter was somehow still managing to project no threat in his voice or body language, but his presence was murderous, like a great black wyrm looming over him with jaws opened wide. It was like the old terror of kneeling before the Dark Lord and knowing that you had displeased him.

Edward once again lamented his foolishness in taking the Dark Mark. He'd been so young and full of outrage at the mudbloods polluting their world, so impatient to strike back at them. His idealistic view of the Dark Lord as a champion of the old ways had not survived long.

He also lamented this situation. It had seemed so perfect at the time. The Dark Lord was after the Potters, so they were sure to be dead soon. What was the harm in appropriating their business for himself, especially since that fool James Potter pushed all responsibility on his manager? Other Death Eaters had done much the same with other families. Lucius Malfoy had been especially crafty about it and enriched himself greatly on the misfortunes of his victims.

But Lucius was dead now, dead at the hand of the powerful young wizard that now smiled at him with eyes colder than the deepest winter. The wizard who had survived the Dark Lord instead of dying as he'd been supposed to.

The wizard that he had stolen from. It might be legal, but it had been theft. Lucius' death had also been legal, but everyone knew it had been murder.

"I did get it for much less than it was worh." Edward admitted with as much calm as he could muster.

"How fortunate for you."

Finally, there was a threat in Potter's voice. Something that implied that something unfortunate might happen to him soon. Was his breath misting as it exited his mouth?

Edward had a decision to make now. He could fight to keep what he'd stolen for himself or he could return it. The law was on his side, but he had no idea what Potter was capable of. This wasn't like dealing with Dumbledore, who could always be relied on to back down instead of starting a war. No, Potter was a different sort of beast.

Edward didn't want to risk it, didn't want to end up like Lucius. "Tell you what, Lord Potter, allow me to present you with a gift to celebrate you ascension to adulthood. I would give you my vineyard."

"Are you sure? That's quite the extravagant gift." Potter said. He sounded like he was trying to fake surprise, but his words were too cold. His eyes were too cold. His breath was too cold. Why was everything so bloody cold ?

"I'm sure, it's the least I can do for the one who saved us from the Dark Lord."

"Well if you put it like that, then how could I refuse?"

The dementor-like chill slowly faded from the air and Edward relaxed a little bit, only to tense again as Potter rolled his neck and produced an almost cadaverous cracking sound, like old bones and stiff leather being moved after ages of inactivity. It was beyond creepy and Edward didn't relax until he was alone again.

He reached for the wine bottle with shaky hands, a bottle that had come from the vineyard he'd just given away in fact. It was too cold.

Edward Parkinson shivered. There was something deeply wrong about Potter.

Harry stalked out of the ballroom and onto the adjoining balcony, taking deep breaths as he fought to regain his balance.

Too much Dark and no Sun in the sky to counteract it. His lungs, kidneys, liver and intestines felt frozen inside his body, affected by his runes as they were. And the rest of him didn't feel especially warm either.

He needed to see the stars, needed to force back the chill grip of the Void. Parkinson had no idea how close he'd just come to dying there. Harry had gotten back what had been stolen from his family, but by the end of that conversation, he'd barely cared about it at all. What he'd really wanted to do was snuff out the spark of life and magic in front of him and make it one with the Dark.

He looked at the stars and pulled on their distant Light, feeling the chill recede. Not as strong as the Sun, but at least he felt alive again instead of like the walking dead.

He sensed a familiar presence nearby, one that he had ignored in his rush.

"I see I'm not the only one that needed a break from the festivities." She said.

"Madam Bones." Harry greeted, turning towards her. "I would have thought you'd be used to it after all these years of having to attend." As a high ranking Ministry official, her attendance was mandatory.

"Used to it?" Amelia grimaced. "Maybe, but I've always hated it."

Harry suspected that she hated all the Death Eaters walking around rather more than the actual party, though he would certainly understand if she hated both.

"I've never been much for parties either. I wouldn't even be here if Narcissa hadn't convinced me that I should attend." He admitted.

"I'm surprised that you would listen to her advice." Amelia could easily imagine a woman like Narcissa taking up with her husband's killer, but Potter actually accepting her seemed strange.

"She has her uses." Harry shrugged.

Amelia raised an eyebrow and looked back into the ballroom where the blonde witch was currently the focus of a great deal of attention.

"Such as promoting your business interests?"

"Among other things."

Amelia wondered about these other things. Dirt on certain people of interest? Death Eaters and their ilk were a clannish sort by necessity, but Narcissa might well be willing to sell them out to save her own hide. She'd seen Potter talking to Parkinson just now and noticed how tense the man was. She'd also noticed how suspiciously empty the area around them had been.

Or perhaps Potter meant more carnal uses. That seemed to be the prevailing opinion that everyone had, but which nobody would openly admit to. Kill a man and take his widow as a mistress… a lot of the people attending this party seemed to be impressed by the ruthlessness implied in that when they should be worried instead.

Odd that a barely fifteen-year-old wizard would have a reputation as something of a womanizer, but every rumor seemed to agree on that. Susan had written to her about it too, though Amelia knew how rumors could get inflated.

"Harry?" Fudge blundered in then, interrupting any further conversation.

"Cornelius." Harry said, trying not to sigh as he felt the almost palpable drop in IQ. Fudge had been going around all evening, seemingly trying to talk to as many people as possible and making a general nuisance of himself. Truly, the man was staying on as Minister of Magic solely on the merit of being easy to bribe.

"I thought I saw you coming out here… oh, Amelia." Fudge finally noticed the other person, looking as if he'd swallowed a lemon.

"I needed to get a breath of fresh air." Harry said. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Uh, no, I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Fudge said.

"I'm perfectly fine." Harry replied dismissively. "Madam Bones and I were just discussing her department."

Amelia raised an eyebrow at the blatant lie, but didn't contradict him.

"The DMLE is doing perfectly fine." Fudge blustered.

"All things considered it is indeed doing fine, but I'm worried about the lack of recruits for the aurors coming in. The Hogwarts Potions professor isn't the best of teachers and his strict demands for NEWT students are limiting the amount of people eligible for that career. I was just about to suggest to Madam Bones that she start offering remedial Potions lessons for prospective aurors to offset that difficulty."

Amelia would have done that, but she barely had enough of a budget to pay what aurors she did have. She'd already stripped as much funding as she could from all the less important sub-departments to achieve even that much.

"I'm afraid that the DMLE doesn't have the budget for something like that." She said, flicking her eyes over to the cause of that lack.

"The DMLE gets enough funding!" Fudge snapped, his paranoia acting up.

"Did Malfoy tell you that?" Harry asked mildly. "A criminal and a Death Eater not wanting law enforcement to be well funded, imagine that."

Fudge did an impression of a fish.

"If I were you, Cornelius, I would think carefully about any advice that Lucius Malfoy gave you in the past. After all, it reflects poorly on you as Minister of Magic to have the largest and most important department in the Ministry so poorly taken care of."

"I'll… I'll think about it." Fudge said and all but ran away.

"I think you broke him." Amelia commented.

"He's just a little confused and looking for a new master to hold his leash." Harry replied faux compassionately.

Amelia snorted in amusement, surprised that he'd say that so openly.

"Why are you trying to convince him to properly fund the DMLE?" She asked.

"I want it more than just properly funded, I want it to be overfunded. You'll find yourself getting something extra from me in the DMLE Gringotts vault as well." Harry had little compunction about redirecting some his wizarding money there. Not only would he now have a reliable income, but it was also hard to value it when it was all legally owned by the damn goblins. He wouldn't throw it away carelessly, but he wasn't overly attached to it either. The costs of living as a wizard were surprisingly low and he had plenty of regular money from selling off the Blacks antique furniture.

"Why? What do you get out of this?" Amelia demanded. This type of generosity was usually followed by a suggestion that would be both illegal and beneficial to the donator, but it had been a long time indeed since anyone had tried to bribe her.

"Because I have the feeling that there's trouble brewing and that I'll be expected to take care of it by myself if the DMLE doesn't have the manpower to do it." Harry said ominously.

"What kind of trouble?" Amelia asked suspiciously.

"An old evil stubbornly refusing to die. Train up as many aurors as you can and I'll consider it money well spent."

Amelia stared after him as he went back inside, frowning. What had that been about? She had a bad feeling about the future all of a sudden. Well at least it looked like she was finally going to get some proper funding and the Auror Office was never supposed to operate on the skeleton crew that it currently had anyway.

It was well after midnight when the ball was finally over and Harry had long since reached the end of his patience with people by then. He'd retreated to a quiet spot and left Narcissa to it for the most part, knowing that he couldn't just decide that they were leaving if he wanted to achieve what he wanted.

He was rather baffled by her enjoyment of this sort of thing, but then he'd always been baffled by it. She still had a bright smile on her face by the time they left.

"I had a good time tonight." Narcissa said once they were back at Malfoy Manor, Harry having escorted her back home.

"At least one of us did." He replied wryly.

"There's still time for you to have a good time." She said suggestively, cupping his crotch. "And you did promise to help me out of my dress."

"That I did."

December 2nd.

A raven landed on the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower and transformed into a man shortly afterwards.

Harry smiled as he looked around at what was arguably his favorite spot in Hogwarts, but there was no time for nostalgia. He quickly pulled the Cloak of Dark out of his Bag of Holding and wrapped it around himself, proceeding to glide unseen through the hallways on silence charmed feet.

It was time for the evening meal, so the hallways were empty and he made it to his destination undisturbed. The locking spell on the door presented no issue either. Now it was just a matter of waiting for his prey to arrive.

Septima made her way back to her quarters after the evening meal, wondering if she had the energy to look over a few homework assignments or if a bath and then bed beckoned. She probably should, or else they would just pile up.

All her plans for the evening went out the window almost as soon as she set foot into her room and she was grabbed from behind. Her terrified scream was muffled by the hand clamped over he mouth and the struggle that she could put up with her unimpressive physical stature were easily subdued by the much stronger man.

"Hello, Septima." A familiar voice purred and Septima became aware that the hand over her mouth didn't feel normal. It was covered in scar tissue.

"Miss me?" Harry asked.

Septima couldn't reply verbally on account of the hand still clamped over her mouth, but she did drive her elbow into his gut to demonstrate what she felt about this stunt of his. It didn't hurt him at all since she had neither the strength nor the leverage for it, but that wasn't the point. Her heart still felt as if it was trying to smash through her ribcage.

"Ooh, so feisty. Do you want to play a game?" He whispered into her ear.

Septima inhaled sharply through her nose as her body clenched with sudden arousal, the punding of her heart only excerbating the situation.

Harry was back and he wanted to play.

Septima found herself nodding before she could give it any more thought.

"Alright, let's play." He murmured and she felt him rummaging around in his pockets.

He seemed to find whatever he was searching for and removed his right hand from her mouth. Septima opened her mouth to ask how he'd managed to sneak into Hogwarts, only to have a rubber ball shoved into her mouth before she could say a word.

Shocked at the sudden gagging, she tried to bring her hands up to remove the obstruction only to have them seized.

"None of that now, the ballgag stays." Harry said. "We wouldn't want the whole school to hear you screaming after all."

Septima's breathing quickened as she realised that she couldn't force the ball out of her mouth with just her tongue. Must be cursed . It quickened further when Harry forced both her wrists to the small of her back and placed what felt like leather restraints on them.

A short struggled confirmed that her hands were now bound and Septima felt herself moistening with excitement.

The way he took a fistfull of her hair, marched her over to her desk and forced her to bend over it only increased her excitement.

This is it, he's going to hike up my robes and fuck me over my own desk while I'm tied up, gagged and helpless. The thought had her whimpering into the gag. She had no idea why he'd come back, but she was glad.

To her shock, instead of hiking up her robes, he took two firm grips at hip level and then ripped them open. The unexpected violence of the action had her heart returning to its previous pounding rhythm.

"Oh my, no panties? You naughty girl." Harry said and Septima felt her face burn. Yes, she had been foregoing panties lately to make her day more exciting. The thought of getting caught…

"And I see you're making good use of my present." He said and pushed on it.

Septima's eyes widened even as she moaned in pleasure. She'd forgotten about the buttplug! She'd found that she enjoyed going around plugged so much that it had barely left her arsehole save to re-apply lubricant. The thought that someone might catch her wearing it might also have something to do with it, but it had become such a normal part of her life by now that she'd forgotten about it in the excitement.

"I wonder, did you ever find someone else to play with?"

The question had Septima flushing so much that she thought he must be seeing the effects all the way down to her rear end. She was too embarrassed to answer.

"I asked you a question." He punctuated the prompt with a smack across her bottom that had her yelping into the gag.

"Nuh-uh!" She gurgled quickly to avoid another.

"Chickened out, did you?" He chuckled and she flushed again. Yes, she had essentially chickened out. There were a few boys in sixth and seventh year that would have made an adequate enough replacement for Harry, at least in looks, but she hadn't been brave enough to make a move on them. She'd dropped some hints that they could have her, but either they weren't brave enough to act on them either or she'd been too subtle. Either way, there had been no playtime for Septima Vector this school term.

Another smack had her yelping again. "That was also a question."

"Uh-huh!"

"You're being a very bad girl, Septima." He scolded. "Do you even want to play?"

Her eyes widened again and she hastened to reassure him that she really, really did. "Uh-huh!"

"Alright, but I think you need to be punished first. Do you think you need to be punished?"

Septima had no idea what kind of punishment he had in mind, but it had to be better than a premature end to the playtime. Besides, this was new and exciting and she wanted to see what he'd do. "Uh-huh."

"Get ready then." He said and she stiffened as she felt a broad, flat, wooden surface being laid across her buttocks. Was he seriously going to spank her? With a paddle?

The assumed paddle was removed and her breathing came in quick pants at the expected blow. Any second now…

When it finally came, she screamed around the ball in her mouth as the force of it shook her entire body. To her great surprise though, it didn't hurt nearly as much as she had expected. It still stung, but a blow that strong should have made her arse feel like it had been set on fire.

She was more prepared for the second blow, though it still made her grunt her discomfort into the ballgag. There had to be a cushioning charm or something on the paddle to keep it from doing any real harm, but the strength behind the blows still caused her whole body to shake.

By the third blow, she was becoming excruciatingly aware of how she clenched around the buttblug every time she was struck.

The paddling continued and Septima's yelps turned into moans. Streams of sexual juices ran down her legs from her neglected fanny, which was clenching around empty air as if jealous of the buttplug stuffing her bowels. The buttplug that was doing wonderful things to her with every jarring smack.

Several long minutes later, Septima tensed for another blow that never came. Her bottom stung painfully from the abuse, but her nether lips were soaked with arousal. The sudden lack of activity had her wiggling on the desk in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what he was going to do next, but she didn't attempt to actually get off the desk.

Then came the clink of a belt being undone and she tensed expectantly, spreading her legs a little bit to give him better access. She needn't have bothered however, as he decided to press on the buttplug again.

Septima moaned in response. With the amount of anal orgasms she'd given herself over the past few months, that was every bit as erogenous a zone as her vagina. In some ways even more because of how excitingly perverse it was. Then he pulled it out and she nearly orgasmed then and there from sheer excitement combined with the arousal of the spanking.

"What a lovely stretched hole you have. It'd be a shame to leave it unused." Harry said, applying a generous quantity of lubricant.

Septima started taking deep breaths as she felt him rub his crown into her anal opening, knowing that penetration was only seconds away.

When it finally came, it still took her by surprise. She'd expected him to gently slide in, but instead he rammed himself in so roughly that she screamed around the ball in her mouth. She could accomodate him easily with the amount of time she kept the buttplug in there, but her butt cheeks were still stinging from the paddling and that had hurt.

… but it also felt so good .

Her feelings on the matter were irrelevant in any case apparently, as Harry began a punishing tempo that had her crying out helplessly with every thrust until she was rubbing her cheek into a puddle of drool that had trickled out of her mouth due to the ballgag.

Not even a minute into this, he grabbed her hair and started pulling on it.

It was too much. Harry sneaking into her quarters and scaring her half to death, gagging and tying her, bending her over the desk and spanking her with a paddle, starting to fuck her arse without giving her a chance to say no and now pulling on her hair like this.

Septima came hard,wailing into the ballgag and reflexively squeezing his member in the throes of orgasm.

But Harry had only gotten started and wasn't even close to finishing yet. He also paid no attention to her climax and continued to pound into her.

Septima was too wrung out to have another orgasm, but she still enjoyed the feeling of her rectum used so commandingly. When Harry eventually discharged his hot load into her bowels, she clenched as tightly as possible, wanting to help him squeeze out every last drop.

"You are as delightful as ever, Septima." He sighed in pleasure as he pulled out, making her smile around the ball gag. Then he started undoing the bindings on her hands. "Come on, let's get cleaned up and then we can get to the other reason that I came to see you."

Septima was intrigued. The surprise visit was already the highlight of her week, but this sounded promising. She smiled all the way to the bathroom despite needing Harry's help to get there.

"Fleur and I have been working on this for a few months now and we can't find any reason for it not to work, but it just doesn't." Harry was saying, gesturing at a stone cube and four mirrors.

"This is some impressive Arithmancy work." Septima praised, looking over the notes he'd brought with him.

"Do you think you can help us out?" Harry asked.

"I'll need some time to look it over… can you leave these with me and come back next week?"

Harry smirked at her. "No problem. Do you want me to bring a riding crop or a cat o' nine tails this time?"

Septima flushed, but she didn't look away. "Are those supposed to be a reward for success or a punishment for failure?"

"That'll be up to you."

December 9th.

"The arithmancy checks out, based on that alone your project should work. I think that your problem is in the material of the nexus."

Harry frowned thoughtfully. He and Fleur had been so focused on getting the enchantment right that they hadn't considered that.

Stone was good for anchoring wards, but it was true that it was rigid. Metal was completely self-contained. Cloth would never be able to hold the power. Wood funneled magic but was crap at holding it, which was what made it excellent for use as magic foci and utterly useless here.

"So you're saying that I need a material that can funnel magic like wood and hold it like stone?" He asked.

"That would be my best guess." Septima nodded, privately impressed that he had figured it out so quickly. "Unfortunately, I can't think of a single enchanted item that has ever needed something like that, so you'll have to experiment on your own. I'm not even sure if a material like that exists."

"Even if it doesn't, you've been very helpful."

"Helpful enough for a special reward?"

"Oh yes."

December 10th.

"Penny, I've got a special project for you."

Penny looked at her employer and wondered what it was going to be this time. A research project on the migratory patterns of magical species perhaps? "What kind of project?"

"I need you to acquire samples of various materials. Start with anything that has the characteristics of both wood and stone, but don't confine yourself to just that. I want samples of as many artificial materials that science has made possible as you can get as well as any exotic naturally occuring ones."

Penny simply stared at him. "Harry, there have to be thousands of each."

"I know, it's going to be a bitch to find the right one."

Christmas, Vienna.

Harry sighed as he looked into the bathroom mirror and dried himself off. Adrastia had come to collect him quite a bit earlier than he had expected and told him to get ready while she fetched his clothes.

The large house in Vienna that she had brought him to was surprisingly ordinary. If not for the subtle enchantments that encouraged people not to pay attention ot it, he'd never have guessed that it belonged to a witch. Yet another question mark added to the riddle that was Adrastia Zabini.

Once he was completely dry and had forced his hair into submission through the use of the usual spellwork, he stepped out of the bathroom and into the room she had assigned him for the very short duration of his stay.

He blinked in surprise as the sight of the clothes laid out for him on the bed. Black pants, black suit jacket, white shirt, black tie. How utterly… mundane. He'd been expecting to be eye candy and a status symbol for Adrastia to brag with in front of her non-British aquintances or something like that, but now he was no longer sure. He wasn't a celebrity outside the magical world after all.

It had been a while since Harry had worn anything like this, but he slipped into it easily enough, even remembering how to properly tie a tie. The measurements were almost right and the minor mistakes easily taken care of by a small bit of transfiguration so that the suit looked tailor made.

Now to find Adrastia and maybe get some answers.

She was waiting for him in the foyer, dressed in a mid-thigh length Chinese silk dress of all things. It looked good on her though, black with red decorations. It was also somewhat modified, as it was missing a substantial amount of chest fabric so as to expose a good bit of cleavage. The ensemble was topped off with a pair of high heeled shoes and diamond earrings.

"You look so good in that suit that I'm tempted to just keep you to myself for the rest of the night." Adrasta said with a sultry smile when she caught sight of him.

"You don't look bad yourself." Harry replied dryly.

"What a stingy compliment." She chided.

"I didn't think you needed the ego boost." He riposted.

"It still would have been nice of you."

"I've been reliably informed that I'm not nice."

"Fine then, be that way." Adrastia pouted playfully. "I have the Portkey ready, so let's be off."

"You still haven't told me where we're going." Harry said as he stepped next to her and took hold of the simple bit of rope that glowed to his sight with the signature enchantment of a Portkey.

"You will see." She said with a mysterious smile.

The Portkey deposited them in yet another foyer, though this one was bigger than the one they had just left behind.

"Ah, Adrastia, right on time." A pleasant looking woman that had apparently been waiting for them greeted. She was brown-haired and brown-eyed, with pale skin and fine but not stunningly beautiful features.

"Hello, Zuzanna, it's so good to see you again." Adrastia said back and went to give their greeter a hug with every sign of genuine pleasure.

"And this must be the man you were bragging about so much." Zuzanna said, looking Harry over. "I see you weren't exaggerating. He looks delicious. "

Harry said nothing in reply, simply staring at the woman. Her name had a Slavic ring to it, but he barely registered that. She was dressed in a flattering black cocktail dress, but he didn't really notice that either. No, all his attention was consumed by her aura. It was hungry Dark.

Adrastia quickly moved back to his side and took hold of his right hand. "Calm down, Harry. There is no danger here."

Harry looked at her and realised that he had been prepared to lash out with lethal spells.

"I will go tell our host that you've arrived." Zuzanna said, apparently unperturbed.

"Where the fuck did you bring me?" Harry hissed at Adrastia once they were alone.

"A friendly gathering, as I said." She replied.

Harry took a deep breath to calm down. He hated surprises. "What was that woman?"

Adrastia saw that he wasn't in the mood for games and decided to be straightforward. "A vampire."

Harry stared back for a long few moments, thinking. Every book he'd ever read on vampires painted them as vicious, bloodthirsty monsters, but he'd long since learned not to trust the opinions of British, or indeed any, wizards. A sheep's opinion of a steak was often more accurate.

So if he disregarded everything he'd ever read on vampires, he was left with his own brief observations. this Zuzanna had shown no aggression and seemed to be on good terms with Adrastia, something that he realised was not necessarily reassuring. Still, his own aura had Dark in it and he managed not to be an indiscriminate killer despite feeling the urge whenever he drew too deeply on it.

He would give vampires as a whole the benefit of the doubt. Still, he regretted not making himself an emergency Portkey for this, a mistake he wouldn't be repeating again.

"Any other surprises I should be aware of?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"The host is also a vampire and there may be a couple of werewolves here, but other than that, no." Adrastia said cheerfully, glad of his acceptance. "Now come on."

Harry tried not to scowl too much as he allowed himself to be led away. At least there wasn't going to be any ridiculous heralds announcing their entrance this time.

True to Adrastia's words, there was nothing too shocking waiting for him. A few wizards and witches with racial backgrounds ranging from Asian to African, though their actual nationality was impossible to determine. A trio of werewolves whose inner wolves felt much stronger than Lupin's. There was even a couple of non-magicals.

All of them were wearing suits and dresses instead of robes. It might just be the fact that this wasn't Backwards Britain, but Harry somehow doubted it. He saw no sign of their supposedly vampiric host.

Harry let himself be led around and introduced to some of the people, but escaped into a corner at the first opportunity, covering himself in a mild aversion spell. Despite Adrastia's reassurance that there was no danger here, he felt on edge. He hated surprises.

He had the feeling that some of the people present weren't affected by his attempt to magically redirect their attention, notably the werewolves and vampiress, but they didn't approach him, for which he was duly grateful.

What was the point of bringing him here? And what the fuck was even going on? He knew that vampires and werewolves had it bad even in the more progressive magical countries in Europe, the ancient prejudices still holding on. Nobody wanted to be a werewolf and there were too few of them to make a difference. As for the vampires… well, they were known to exist but they didn't interact much with wizards and witches.

This one seemed to be downright genial though and the werewolves were odd as well. Lupin had looked so broken down and tired but these three looked anything but. Two men in suits and woman in a dress… Harry almost felt as if he should be calling them males and a female, all three of them nearly glowed with a sort of feral strength. He'd be tempted to try bedding the woman if he didn't know that Lycanthropy could be sexually transmitted. It was the only way to become a werewolf aside from being bitten by a transformed one in fact. Werewolves would have gone extinct centuries ago if they had to rely on their victims surviving an attack to propagate.

The mysterious host finally showed up after fifteen or so minutes. He was a big man, both taller and broader than Harry, though not by much. His skin was pale, his eyes blue and his short hair and neat beard a dull gold. His aura too was hungry Dark.

"My friends, I am glad that you could make it." The mysterious vampire said. "I will be with you soon, but first I do believe we have a newcomer among us."

Everyone looked right at Harry and he had to tamp down on the instinct to bristle threateningly. Adrastia quickly made her way back to him and then led him towards big vampire.

"Harry, this is Bjomolf." She introduced. "Bjomolf, this is Harry Potter."

"Good evening." Bjomolf greeted with a smile that showed perfectly normal human teeth. "I've heard many interesting things about you from Adrastia here, though I must admit that my favorite was the way you killed that Malfoy fellow. Forbidden Sun, heh."

Harry had the distinct feeling that this man… vampire knew exactly where he'd gotten the name from.

"And I've heard nothing at all about you." He said instead of commenting on that, throwing a glare at his date.

"This is a perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other then." The vampire said easily. "I'm sure Adrastia won't mind if we retire to my study for a while."

"Of course." She said and left Harry alone with what was presumably a very dangerous individual.

"Right this way, Lord Potter." Bjomolf said, gesturing for Harry to follow him.

At least he's not asking me to walk in front of him. Harry consoled himself. He wasn't sure his nerves could have survived that experience.

They made it to the study without issue and Bjomolf gesture for him to sit in one of the chairs.

"Drink?" He offered, opening what was presumably a liqueur cabinet.

"No thanks." Harry said.

Bjomolf shrugged and poured himself something amber colored, then he sat in a chair opposite to Harry and smiled with inhumanly long, pointed canines.

Harry tensed.

"Merry Christmas, Bratan."