Whispers of a Raven - Wedding Bells

Even with so many weeks having passed, the Dark Lord was still angry with himself for his laxity during the duel with Dumbledore. He had lost himself to the lust of battle, allowed the momentous occasion to get the better of him for the briefest moment, and it had cost him dearly. His opportunity to be rid of his biggest threat had slipped through his fingers and he’d needed to take a step back to evaluate what had occurred.

He had been winning. The headmaster, though a worthy foe, was less than he expected from the tales of excellence that had followed the man over the decades; his feats, his prowess with a wand and his power seemingly having been exaggerated.

Nonetheless, their confrontation had not gone as envisioned. Dumbledore had escaped with his life and the Dark Lord had suffered a severely damaged arm. Whatever spell Dumbledore had caught him with was not a regular bone-breaking curse and had left him in considerable pain days after the event. Even when healed, it had caused Voldemort problems. His arm would often spasm irrepressibly and be wracked with shooting pains, something that, much to his relief, was becoming less regular.

However, he had not risked venturing out so often during the attacks of his Death Eaters. He could not risk confronting the old man again when his wand arm was so unpredictable. As such, he had lessened the number of attacks overall.

Despite how well his followers were doing in their venture, Dumbledore was a danger to them and had found a way to locate the attacks much quicker than the Dark Lord had anticipated. Until he was healthy enough to be a presence once more, it was best that their endeavours were lessened. He would not risk one of his people being captured at this crucial moment.

It was not as though time was of the essence, and as things were, caution was still needed until he had established his dominance. That would come soon enough and then the brief respite would be over. Dumbledore would be killed, and their path would be clear. With the fall of their hero, wizarding Britain would be crushed beneath his heel and a new world would be born.

The thought brought a rare smile to his lips, the fantasy he’d had of putting an end to his former headmaster just as exciting as it had always been.

(Break)

“Carefully add the mandrake leaves and stir counter-clockwise four times,” Narcissa instructed, smiling as the potion turned from a yellow to dark green when the step had been completed. “See, I knew you could do it.”

Harry stared at his work in surprise before smiling at her brightly, the expression warming her in a way that shouldn’t happen from such a simple thing. His eyes sparkled with joy and she had to tear her own away from them. Too often she had to fight to not lose herself in his gaze. It did things to her, drew her in and she couldn’t allow that to happen.

It only got harder the more she saw of him. Perhaps she should have put an end to the tutoring sooner, but she always found an excuse to stay. When they became so flimsy that she had to face why she was still here, she could not avoid the truth any longer; She was only here to see him, just to be in his presence.

He didn’t need her any longer to help with his brewing. He could pass his NEWT with relative ease, he merely lacked confidence and she felt as though she had exploited that.

Yes, she should have put an end to this sooner, but she hadn’t. She didn’t want to, and he had not voiced any protest to her being here. If anything, he made it all the harder to walk away.

One day, she would have to, but until then, she wouldn’t deny herself this. Soon enough, she would be married to someone she did not care for, and at the very least, she would have these memories of a time she had been around someone she felt something for.

It was selfish and would offer little comfort, but it was something and Harry would not even know that he had done that for her.

She returned the smile he gave, the one that hid nothing, and the one she had become fond of.

It was so very different to the smiles of Lucius. His were guarded, forced and concealed much.

Thoughts of the man made her heart sink.

She felt nothing for him, not even a slither of guilt for the time she spent with Harry or how she thought of him when she was with Lucius who had seemed to double his efforts to court her into marriage. He had even begun to allude to ‘when they were married’ during conversations, reminding her even more so that he was not what she wanted.

There was always another on her mind, and he was not blonde, nor did he carry the name Malfoy.

Not that it mattered. Her father had set his sights on a match with Lucius and that would be that. What she felt did not matter. She would be expected to accept the decision, and why wouldn’t she?

Lucius was a desirable match for any family, and she would have no grounds for complaint other than that she did not love him, would never love him.

She knew that already. How could she love her future husband when he was so very different than Harry?

She did not know when Harry had become the comparison she measured other men against, but he had, and Lucius fell very short of it.

Still, the marriage would one day go ahead, and she knew there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She would have to be content with only the memories of being here with Harry she would hold.

“I wouldn’t have been able to without your help,” he replied. “Thank you.”

“Sorry, what?” Narcissa questioned, his voice startling her from her thoughts.

“For helping me with all of this,” Harry clarified, a look of amusement tugging at his lips.

She couldn’t not smile at him, not when he looked at her the way he was now. She didn’t know what emotion it was he felt but she liked to think he had grown somewhat fond of her over the past weeks. More than anything, she was grateful it was not the same haunted look he’d had the night they’d visited Lord Bones in St Mungo’s, something they had not discussed since.

She couldn’t just forget what he’d told her about the wizard with the red eyes, but she had kept her word and not mentioned it to anyone.

Harry had seemingly forgotten about it, or just did not wish to discuss it. It worried her when she thought of what he could be doing about this strange man, though she was not going to press the issue with him. As much it concerned her, it was not her place to do so.

“You’re welcome,” she offered warmly. “You only have one more on the syllabus to practice and then we will be done.”

And then their time together would come to an end. There would be no reason nor further excuse for her to torment herself by enjoying his company. He would likely vanish into the breeze, continue playing Quidditch and whatever else he did when she was not around.

Such thoughts were maudlin, but she found she didn’t care. Why should she not pity herself when she was to be robbed of this?

She was proud of Harry. He would reach great heights in his Quidditch venture if he continued as he was. Thus far, she had not missed a game but would soon have to watch his ascension from the outside. His notoriety would grow, his life would change, and he would eventually marry a very lucky woman who would probably never appreciate him beyond his wealth and fame.

She shook her head of those thoughts. They made her feel rather petty and childish; jealous of an undeserving woman she had never met. Narcissa was not an envious person, had never had reason to be, but ultimately, she was bitter when they plagued.

“Well, we can do that before the wedding,” Harry said with a shrug, “sometime in the next few days.”

Narcissa nodded her agreement, not wanting to think of the former where she would spend the day in Lucius’s company, as she undoubtedly would many after as well.

“We can,” she agreed. “Have you found someone you’re going to bring yet?”

He grimaced at the question, his expression one of acceptance. What that meant, she did not know but her stomach sunk as he nodded, and she fought to keep her own expression as neutral as she could.

“I have,” Harry confirmed. “I’ll be bringing Amelia Bones.”

Narcissa’s expression was unreadable as she nodded her acceptance.

“She would make a great match for you,” she acknowledged. “An old family, and she’s quite… beautiful when you get past the stuffy auror who tried to falsely arrest you.”

“She was only doing her job,” Harry defended to which Narcissa nodded stiffly.

“I am surprised,” she sighed. “I didn’t think Bones would be your type.”

Harry shook his head.

“It’s not even like that, we are going as friends.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Harry,” Narcissa replied, shaking her head.

He felt that he had to. He did not want her to think it was more than it was, but he couldn’t explain it. Not without raising other subjects he could not discuss with her.

Him bringing Amelia had just happened. When Edgar learned he would be attending the Lestrange wedding, he had all but insisted Harry take his sister for his protection. Quite rightly the man had pointed out that it would be a pureblood affair with likely many enemies surrounding him who were part or sympathisers of the pureblood movement.

When put like that, taking Amelia made sense. At worst, he had another pair of eyes and the woman had expressed her desire to be there to observe them. It was an opportunity that she would not miss, even if she bemoaned the fact that she would need to wear a dress and dance.

“I’m not interested in Amelia Bones in that way,” Harry reiterated. “With all the trouble I find myself in I’d be locked up by my own wife.”

Narcissa laughed and shook her head.

“Now that would be quite the scandal,” she sighed. “Don’t worry, I’d get you out, again.”

Harry smirked. He would never live down that it was Malfoy’s mother who had assisted in having him released from prison.

He pushed thoughts of the woman in front of him birthing the hated man aside. They sickened him and did not paint Narcissa in the way he had come to know her.

Perhaps he had come to remind himself of it intentionally? It helped to some extent to remember that she would be married to Lucius, a man who certainly did not deserve her. That knowledge irked him but went some way in grounding him, his thoughts on the woman as confusing as they were torturous.

He had long accepted that he held something for her. What that was, he knew not but it occupied his mind too much. He cared for her deeply, and ss much as he had tried to deny it, he couldn’t. Often, he thought of her, looked forward to being around her despite the fact they were working on his most hated subject.

He hated it still, but she had made learning it rather easy and her being here took the edge off.

That smile that had started it all had begun haunting his dreams, teasing him and he knew he should not allow it to, but he had stopped trying to fight it. The smile warmed him as did her touch when she was teaching him techniques for stirring.

Rather pathetically, more than once he had pretended he needed extra help just so that he could feel her smaller hand close over his and go through the motions he had learned and already mastered.

What was worse was that she didn’t seem to mind. Harry would admit to himself that he was rather dim when it came to reading emotions from others, but he often caught a glimpse of what he felt when their eyes met. As brief as it was, it was there, or it was a trick of the light.

No, it wasn’t, and he knew it. As he felt for her, she felt for him also, even if it was but a flicker. She concealed it well for the most part, and unless he was misreading the signs completely, she was purposely hiding it from him.

It was for the best. It was an entanglement that would end badly when her wedding to Lucius was announced and the thought of allowing himself to feel more than he did only to lose her to Malfoy was not something he even wished to ponder.

He’d already despised the man before he had come here, and that hatred had only increased. He had met the young Lucius only once, and in truth, he had been rather courteous, but it changed nothing of the new loathing he felt towards the blonde.

Deep down, he knew that it was what he felt for Narcissa that provoked it, but it changed nothing. She would marry Lucius and Harry would not see her again.

“Same time on Saturday then?” he asked, smiling, though he felt like doing nothing less.

“I will see you then,” she agreed, her own mood nor smile as bright as he wished it to be.

Only a moment later, she was gone, and Harry cleaned up his mess before sinking into his sofa, the thoughts he wished he could ignore plaguing him once again.

(Break)

“Narcissa? Could you come in here please, your father wishes to speak with you,” her mother called as Narcissa entered the house.

Immediately, she was on edge. Her father never asked to speak with her unless it was something either very serious or of great importance. There was no need to err on the side of caution and she decided it was likely both.

With a deep breath, she composed herself and entered the parlour where her parents where seated, her mother looking very unhappy and disapproving. Cygnus on the other hand, looked rather pleased with himself and greeted her with a triumphant grin.

“Take a seat,” he instructed with uncharacteristic warmth.

Narcissa did so and eyed the man warily, her gaze switching to her mother who couldn’t appear to be any more apologetic.

“I have fantastic news,” Cygnus announced. “Abraxus and I have all but finalised a contract. We will be making the announcement at the wedding and the document will be signed the day after. You are going to be marrying Lucius.”

It felt worse than she had expected. Narcissa had known for months that this is what Lucius’s courting of her would lead to, and despite preparing herself for the eventuality, nothing could have readied her for the devastation she felt.

From the age of thirteen, she accepted that this would be her fate; a marriage merely for the betterment of another family, one where she would carry heirs and be nothing more than a trophy on the arm of a Lord at best.

Now, she only wished she had taken her grandfather up on his offer to put an end to Lucius’s efforts to woo her, of which he had failed miserably. A part of her hoped he would grow bored of her and move on to another he preferred. That, however, had not happened and it was too late.

Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded and stood before walking towards the door. Her legs felt heavy and she could feel her tears starting to form.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with her? I thought she would be happy,” she heard her father grumble.

“Perhaps you should have spoken to her before deciding her future, Cygnus,” Druella hissed.

Her mother was furious on her behalf. Narcissa felt nothing of the sort. Maybe it would come with time, but for now, anger was not what she was experiencing.

“What more could she want in a husband? The Malfoys are rich and influential. Abraxus didn’t even ask for a galleon in dowries. All he has asked is that she gives up this healing nonsense.”

Narcissa’s steps ceased as a loud slap was heard and she turned to see her mother towering over her shocked father.

“The one thing she had for herself,” Druella seethed, “and you threw it away as though it was meaningless. You are a selfish bastard, Cygnus Black. We already lost one of our daughters, Bellatrix is not even married, and you have ensured Narcissa will be miserable for the rest of her life. Did you ever stop to think why Abraxus was so keen for Lucius to be wed to her? Did you think about anything more than your own wants?”

“You’re the only one that has voiced a problem with it,” her father ground out, cupping his cheek where he had been struck. “Narcissa understands that this is the best match for her, don’t you?”

Under her parent’s scrutiny, she could only nod. The family had lost too much already, and she did not wish for it to deteriorate any more. It was not as though any protest she had would mean anything, and besides, nothing had changed. This was the plan since she had been a child as it was for many pureblood families.

“See, she is fine with it,” Cygnus pointed out, clueless to what she felt.

Empathy was certainly not her father’s strong point and she offered her mother a forced smile before leaving, the gesture sapping the final vestige of strength she had to keep her own emotions at bay.

She tried and failed to stem the flow of her tears, a gentle sob escaping her even before she reached the privacy of her room.

(Break)

When he had first learned of the Order shortly before his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry would have given anything to be included in the meetings. To him, they were the ones that were taking the fight to Voldemort and perhaps the bravest witches and wizards he thought he would ever meet.

He had been wrong. Perhaps his view on them had been jaded with how they treated him after what had happened at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, but they couldn’t compare to the original Order. Each member here was talented, could bring something valuable to the cause. There was no Mundungus Fletcher who was little more than thieving git nor was there the untrustworthy like Snape.

Despite getting Harry out of Hogwarts when he had, he still carried the mark.

No, the men and women within the room at The Hog’s Head were more what Harry imagined when he first became acquainted with the Order of the Phoenix.

“Does anyone have anything to report?” Dumbledore questioned.

“It’s gone quiet, Albus,” Caradoc Dearborn answered. “The alerts have become less frequent as have the attacks. Something is brewing and I don’t like it.”

“The Dark Lord is no fool,” Harry broke in. “He expected to kill Dumbledore when they met, and he is being cautious. He cannot afford too many failures whilst he is trying to prove himself to his followers. He will avoid another confrontation with the headmaster until he is assured of his victory. I would be very surprised if the two will meet on equal grounds next time.”

Caradoc nodded thoughtfully.

“You’re probably right.”

The Order members had been surprised to say the least by his arrival at his first meeting with them. Still, they were very wary of him, speaking with him only when needed and keeping their distance when possible. Harry didn’t mind, it only added to his already mysterious reputation and it was best if people didn’t investigate him too much. Not that they would find anything, he just did not appreciate the imposition.

“What about you, Lord Peverell, any thoughts on what is happening?” Dorcas Meadowes asked curiously. “What do you think will happen next?”

“I don’t know what he is up to, but it will almost certainly be something big that will leave his followers with no doubt to the power he wields. Whatever it is, it will happen suddenly so we will need to be ready to respond.”

“You seem to know a lot, Peverell,” Benjy Fenwick interjected.

“I make it a point to know my enemies,” Harry replied easily. “You do not fight a foe you know nothing of. Edgar learned that.”

The redhead nodded severely.

He had recovered from whatever curse he had fallen victim to, but it had served to humble him considerably. He would not be seeking out a fight with Voldemort any time soon.

“I am in agreement with Lord Peverell,” Dumbledore sighed. “He will not be idle for long. We must be vigilant.”

Murmurs of agreement could be heard around the table.

“Have you made a decision to bringing our brother-in-law on board?” one of the Prewett twins questioned.

Meeting Gideon and Fabian had been like looking into the past and future at the same time. They reminded him very much of Fred and George if they had been ten years older when he knew them.

Dumbledore nodded.

“Arthur is in quite the unique position. He has more interaction with the muggle world than any of us and could prove to be very useful,” he mused aloud. “I will contact him very shortly.”

“He might stop impregnating our sister if we keep him busy,” the other twin mumbled.

“Molly is pregnant again?” Dumbledore pressed.

“With her third,” Gideon huffed. “She’s determined to keep going until she has a girl.”

Dumbledore chuckled.

“Then, please, pass on my congratulations when you see her.”

Gideon nodded, grimacing at the thought of his pregnant sister.

“Is there anything else?” Dumbledore asked, looking around the room.

“The Lestrange wedding will be taking place the day after tomorrow,” Harry announced. “I have been invited and will be taking Amelia Bones as my guest so we can identify some potential members of the pureblood movement.”

“Do you think that is wise?” Dumbledore returned uncertainly.

Harry nodded.

“I think it is our best chance to see who is unusually friendly with one another and who is avoiding certain people. I have no doubt the place will be full of members and sympathisers and we will be able to add to the list of people to keep a close eye on.”

“It’s risky and I would much rather you didn’t attend. You are putting yourself in a very dangerous position,” Dumbledore pointed out.

Harry waved him off.

“It’s only risky if they suspect anything which they have no reason to. They will be more inclined to toe the line with Edgar’s sister as my guest. They know she is an auror and will not risk exposing themselves, not without Voldemort’s say so.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore conceded.

“What if he is there?” Benjy enquired.

Harry shrugged.

“I do not think he would be so brazen. From what you know of him, does he strike you as the kind of man to enjoy a wedding?”

Benjy smirked and shook his head.

“No, I don’t suppose so, but be careful, Peverell. This bastard is unpredictable.”

“I know,” Harry returned. “I’ll be ready to get us out of there if necessary.”

Edgar offered him an encouraging smile.

“If that is everything, then I believe we should conclude this meeting, but stay alert,” Dumbledore urged. “I do not expect things to remain as they are for long.”

The Order members took turns to leave, some via the floo and others through the bar where they could apparate away from Hogsmeade. Harry was about to return home himself, among the last to do so, when he was stopped by Aberforth Dumbledore.

“You know, Albus was obsessed with your family when he was younger,” he revealed. “He would tell me and Ariana stories about your lot, crazy stories.”

“I imagine they were rather unbelievable,” Harry replied.

Aberforth nodded.

“To most they would be, but say what you will about my brother, he’s never been one for flights of fancy and wouldn’t waste his time on something he didn’t believe in. He’s boring like that.”

“Is there something you wanted to say, Aberforth?” Harry questioned.

“Not a thing,” the man returned, “but if the hallows are real, Albus would do whatever he could to possess them.”

Harry frowned as the man walked away.

Dumbledore could not hope to take possession of them and had even handed him the elder wand, though that proved to be fruitless. It had reacted to him when he had taken it from the headmaster but had exhibit no signs of magic since. It was now little more than a decorative stick and Harry suspected that whatever magic had been within it had either transferred to his own wand or simply vanished.

Perhaps the cloaked figure would be able to explain that to him, if and when he saw it next? For weeks now, his dreams had been free of the room with the veil; replaced by a different figure that had begun haunting him in the small hours of the night. She was a much more welcome apparition but one he wished he could rid himself of just as much as he wanted her to stay.

He could never win when it came to his dreams and he released a frustrated, deep breath before exiting the bar and returning to his tent.

She would forget about him soon enough.

It was not as though Lucius would allow her to be friends with him and not that she would want to when he eventually killed her would-be husband.

It was a no-win situation for Harry, regardless of what happened.

Still, he had a Quidditch match to keep him occupied and one final tutoring in potions to complete before the wedding, and he fully intended on enjoying both.

(Break)

“The more I watch him play, the more I realise he’s completely off his head,” Arcturus muttered as Peverell waved at them before disappearing into the changing rooms. “Melania refuses to come. She thinks it’s only a matter of time before he kills himself.”

Charlus snorted.

“No, he’s bloody good,” he commented. “I’ve not met anyone as good on a broom as him, but yes, he’s completely off his head,” he agreed.

“How’re you holding up, Narcissa?” Arcturus asked.

His granddaughter had been unusually quiet throughout the game.

“He is very good,” she sighed.

Arcturus shared a look with Charlus who merely shrugged in response.

“What’s wrong, Narcissa?” Arcturus pressed.

She shook her head.

“Nothing, I’m just tired. It’s been a very long week.”

Arcturus frowned and Narcissa offered him a reassuring smile, one that did little to convince the old man she was okay.

“Look, here he comes,” she pointed out, an attempt at distracting him if he’d ever seen one.

Still, Peverell was approaching and offered both older lords a respectful nod.

“A few more performances like that and you’ll have the attention of the bigger teams,” Charlus praised proudly.

Harry shook his head.

“I doubt it,” he replied. “I’m quite happy playing as I am anyway.”

“Bloody hell, Peverell, it would be a shame for you to waste your talents here,” Arcturus huffed. “I’d bet a lot of galleons that you will play for England one day.”

“We might even win a world cup,” Charlus added.

Harry laughed

“I think you’re both getting a bit ahead of yourselves. I’m playing in the lowest league possible. Playing for England is not something I am even close to.”

“You will be,” Arcturus replied. “Anyway, you will be at the wedding tomorrow?”

Harry nodded.

“I’ll be there, but no offense, I’d rather not.”

“Neither would I,” Charlus muttered. “This is one thing I won’t bet getting out of. James has managed it. I think Dorea just didn’t want the fight to get him there.”

“Damn, I was hoping to see Walburga have her nose transfigured,” Harry replied, eliciting a bout of laughter from both men. “I suppose we should be going,” he added to Narcissa. “You have an early start tomorrow.”

She nodded stiffly and Arcturus watched them walk towards the exit having bid their farewells and shook his head.

“Is there something going on between them?” Charlus questioned.

Arcturus shrugged.

“I thought so but not anymore. She is attending the wedding with Lucius and he is bringing the Bones girl.”

“Cygnus is still intent on marrying her to the Malfoy boy?”

“I suppose so. He hasn’t spoken to me about it and neither has Narcissa,” he added thoughtfully.

“I would have thought with your suspicions you would be against the match.”

“I am,” Arcturus replied, “but I have to think of her future. She’s a third daughter out of the line of inheritance. Politically and financially speaking, the Malfoys are the best match she could hope for. I’m still hopeful that my own succession won’t be an issue when Sirius is older.”

Charlus nodded his understanding.

“I’m working on it but his time with Walburga has not endeared him to your ways. I think he will come around even if it was only to throw his mother out of the family.”

“Good riddance,” Arcturus grumbled. “I’d heave the cow out myself if it wasn’t for Orion and Regulus.”

“What if he doesn’t come around?” Charlus pressed.

“I don’t know, Charlus. I really don’t know.”

(Break)

“That’s really good, Harry,” Narcissa praised.

The smile she gave him was hollow, devoid of any of warmth, of anything if truth be told. She had been quiet all day and had barely spoken other than to give him some advice during his brewing process.

He didn’t like it and knew that something was bothering her.

“Have I done something to upset you?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“No, of course not.”

“Because I don’t think you’ll miss this that much. I would have thought you would have had enough of watching me blunder through this stuff,” he added, gesturing to the simmering cauldron and pile of discarded off-cuts of potion ingredients.

Another smile; not completely empty this time.

“It’s been fun watching you blunder your way through it,” she returned sadly.

“Then what’s bothering you? You’re not yourself today.”

She shrugged and her eyes began to brim with tears.

“Nothing that I didn’t expect.”

Harry didn’t know what to do. Crying girls was something he was out of his depth with. Even after Ron had been killed, he was of little comfort to Hermione.

 “Is there anything I can do?” he tried.

Narcissa shook her head and wiped her tears away.

“No, I’m just being silly,” she said dismissively, offering him a watery smile. “My father will be announcing my betrothal to Lucius tomorrow,” she explained.

“Oh,” Harry muttered, his chest tightening at the thought. “Why has that upset you? I thought you’d be happy.”

“Maybe once, I would have been,” she sighed.

“I don’t understand, what’s changed?”

“Nothing,” Narcissa replied. “I’ve known for months that this would happen, I suppose I just hoped it wouldn’t. I should be grateful really. Even Bella didn’t get such a good match.”

She didn’t mean what she said. She wasn’t grateful for it, and she dreaded what was to come for her.

“Narcissa…”

“I should probably be going,” she announced as she retrieved her coat and put it on. “There’s lots that still needs to be done.”

Harry followed her from the tent and took her arm before she could apparate away, unable to miss that her eyes were once more full of unshed tears as she turned to look at him.

“If you’ve known this was going to happen, why are you so upset?” he asked softly.

She didn’t even try to stem the flow of tears this time as she cupped his cheek and gave him a final smile.

“Because it is not Lucius Malfoy I’ve fallen in love with, Harry.”

He could only stare at her dumbly as she pressed a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth before she was gone, having disapparated before he could shake himself from his stupor.

“Bollocks!”

(Break)

The ceremony had been as expected, as had the celebrations that followed. It was nothing new to Lucius. He had attended enough weddings to know how they unfolded. The host families would show off their wealth under the guise of ensuring the bride and groom had their ‘dream day’. It was rather pathetic if truth be told but not a tradition that would soon be broken. None would dare break the mould in such a way. Expectations were prevalent and they would be met. It was the same for all pureblood weddings.

“It was a wonderful ceremony,” he commented to Narcissa who nodded her agreement.

The woman had been very conservative today, had stayed on his arm as expected and only spoken when necessary. He liked that about her. She knew when to keep her mouth shut.

“Ours will be much nicer than this. Father will make sure of it.”

She nodded once more, and he felt a twinge of irritation. She should speak to him when he engaged her in conversation. She should know that.

It mattered not. The contract would be signed tomorrow and then she would be his.

He ignored the stirring he felt knowing that all his hard work was soon to pay off. She would belong to him for the rest of her life and there was nothing that could be done about.

“Ah, I believe the speeches are going to be happening shortly. Perhaps we should take our seats,” Lucius suggested.

She said nothing nor even offered him a nod but allowed herself to be led to the top table where they had been placed with the other Blacks and Lestranges.

It was only a few moments after they had sat later that Cygnus Black tapped his glass and stood, those within the room falling respectfully silent.

Lucius positively shuddered in his seat, his excitement reaching a fever pitch, though it would not compare to the feeling of making her his in the most permanent of ways.

(Break)

Narcissa had chided herself for her final words to Harry the night before, but she was not embarrassed by them. At the very least, she would never look back with regret for not saying it, for walking away without letting him know just what he had meant to her. It wouldn’t change anything other than she had spoken truly and honestly, her raw emotion perhaps getting the better of her in the moment, but she did not care. She was going to be married to the man seated next to her in due course and she had merely wished for Harry to know that it was him she thought of.

That didn’t make dealing with the envy she felt seeing Amelia Bones walking in on Harry’s arm when they arrived any easier. Narcissa was not a jealous or petty person by nature, but she felt it now and had done all she could to ignore them. Seeing him with her only served as a reminder that he would move on with his life, find another to settle down with, and her words would eventually become little more than a distant memory.

Not to her. She would always remember them, no matter what happened between her and Lucius.

She couldn’t be certain if it was her own mood, but he had been particularly irritating today; posturing around the venue with his chest puffed out, leading Narcissa from person to person to have inane conversations she was not inclined to join in with. Only adding to her downtrodden mood, he had introduced her to several of them as the future Lady Malfoy, a title that made her cringe internally.

She didn’t want to be Lady Malfoy, and the smiles she gave to those that congratulated her were as forced as the conversation with Lucius had been.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the tapping of her father’s glass, and he stood to give his speech.

She schooled her features as best she could, ignoring the sinking feeling of dread that settled within her. Now, the world would know what fate had in store for her and she could only stare blankly ahead as Cygnus began to speak.

(Break)

“I would like to begin by thanking you all for joining us on this most auspicious occasion,” Cygnus said, raising his glass to the guests in the room.

Harry fought the urge to grimace at the man; an auspicious occasion it was not. Spending the day in the company of Death Eaters was not his idea of any occasion worthy of note unless the cowards were hiding beneath their masks and he was fighting for all he was worth.

Much to his relief, they had proven to be wary of him, most he knew that carried the mark giving him a rather wide berth. It was no secret what he had done to both Avery and Bellatrix, and none seemed to be keen on provoking his ire.

“Harry, you’re glaring,” Amelia whispered.

The redhead had been very good company to distract him from his own thoughts throughout the day. Her observation skills were excellent, and she had spent her time identifying potential enemies, all of which she voiced having been correct. Not that he could confirm these of course, though he had nodded his agreement when she explained her reasoning.

Had he been on a real date with her, he might have been offended that her efforts were being focused on her job, but this was not a real date, something they had quickly established when they’d made the arrangements to attend together.

Amelia was far too invested in her career, and Harry just did not see the woman that way. She was beautiful, he wouldn’t deny that, but there was no attraction between the two of them.

“I stand before you as a proud man, confident that my daughter will be welcomed and cared for by her new family. I wish you both all the happiness in the world on this happiest of occasions.”

Cygnus raised his glass once more, followed by those in attendance.

“Speaking of happy occasions,” he continued. “As we share in the merriment of this one, I would like to announce another. Lord Malfoy and I have recently reached an accord for another marriage to place, this one between his son and heir, Lucius, and my daughter, Narcissa. The contract will be signed tomorrow, and you will all, of course, receive an invitation to their own nuptials,” he finished, speaking over the polite round of applause that sounded.

Harry could only look at the bride-to-be, his heart wrenching at her expression. An unmissable, fleeting look of utter defeat could be seen as the blonde fool sat next to her grinned like the buffoon he was, and Harry wanted nothing more than to tear his head from his shoulders.

“To Narcissa and L…”

Cygnus balked as Arcturus rose from the seat next to him, his expression one of cold fury as he shook his head.

“You will disregard what you have heard,” he said dangerously. “I was not informed of this proposed union and as the head of my family, I do not approve.”

“Father…”

“Be quiet, boy,” Arcturus hissed before turning his attention back to the gathered guests. “Narcissa will not be marrying Lucius Malfoy.”

Murmuring followed his declaration.

“Make no mistake,” he continued as he removed a roll of parchment from within his robes, “she will marry. I have here a contract, signed by me. The other signature does not belong to Lucius or Abraxus Malfoy. Narcissa will be marrying Lord Harry Peverell.”

A collective gasp was heard, and all eyes flittered between Harry and Narcissa. He, however, heard nothing nor paid attention to the stares. He had eyes for only one person, and she was staring at him in disbelief.

Flashback

“Bollocks!”

That, he had not expected, and he reached up to touch his cheek where Narcissa’s hand had been. It was still warm to the touch and he could taste her on the corner of his lips.

They had grown fond of one another over the weeks they had spent here and at his Quidditch matches, but he hadn’t been ready to admit just how close they had become. Perhaps he was so fixated on her being Malfoy’s mother that he had not been able to look past it to what there was between them, and he now felt a sense of panic overwhelm him.

She was going to be married off to Lucius, something neither Narcissa nor Harry wanted.

No, he could not accept that. He had to do something.

Flicking his wand into his hand, he did the only thing he could think of and sent a patronus to the one person that could help him before he apparated away.

The wait could only have been at few minutes at most, but it felt longer, and his nervousness only increased as the front door to the house he found himself outside of opened.

“Peverell?” a voice called. “It’s bloody well ten at night.”

“I know and I wouldn’t be disturbing you unless it was important.”

Arcturus frowned at him.

“Are you alright? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” Harry said dismissively, “well, I think I am.”

Arcturus shook his head.

“You’d better come in and have a damned good explanation for why you’re here,” the old man warned, gesturing for Harry to follow.

“Arcturus, who is it?” Melania questioned as they entered the house. “Oh, Lord Peverell,” she greeted him as she pulled her dressing gown tightly around her, confused by his appearance.

“You have my apologies, Lady Black,” Harry offered sincerely, “If this could have waited, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Has something happened?” the woman asked worriedly.

“No, not yet,” Harry assured her. “Maybe you should join us.”

Melania looked towards her husband who shrugged and led them into the kitchen.

“Alright, Peverell, what’s all this about?”

“I want your permission to marry Narcissa,” Harry blurted, unsure of what else there was to say on the matter.

The older man looked at him for a moment, his mouth agape before he shook himself from his thoughts.

“And this couldn’t wait until the morning?”

Harry shook his head.

“No, her father is going to be announcing her betrothal to Malfoy tomorrow during the wedding. It had to be now.”

“Are you sure about that?” Arcturus pressed, a deep frown marring his features. “He hasn’t mentioned it to me.”

“Narcissa told me,” Harry sighed. “She doesn’t want to marry him. She’s really upset about it.”

“So, you want to stop him from marrying her by marrying her yourself?”

“Yes…no,” Harry corrected quickly, “I want to marry her. That’s it. Even if Malfoy wasn’t a part of this, I’d want to marry her.”

Arcturus released a deep breath, his gaze switching to his wife.

“This will cause problems,” he grumbled.

“Who cares?” Melania replied firmly.

Arcturus smirked at the woman and Harry suspected he was enjoying the drama of this more than he should be.

“Fetch me a contract template and a quill.”

Melania nodded, left the room and returned a few moments later with what she had been asked to bring.

For several minutes, Arcturus scratched away with the quill, humming and nodding thoughtfully from time to time as he set about the task.

“What are your terms, Peverell? What do you want from this?”

Harry frowned before shaking his head.

“Nothing,” he answered.

Arcturus snorted.

“You have to get something out of this or people with think you a fool. This contract, when registered, will become a matter of public record. It must look as though the negotiation cost us both something significant.”

“Then just include what you’d be willing to part with. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Arcturus offered him a bemused look before a genuine smile and began writing again.

“For marrying Narcissa, you will receive a dowry of 50,000 galleons, a vacant property of the Blacks of yours and Narcissa’s choosing, and 2% of the shares of our current business income. That will ensure your financial security as well as give you a home in which you can raise a family.”

“Is that not a bit much?” Harry questioned.

“You have not heard my terms yet. You may well demand more of me when you do,” Arcturus returned.

“Then what are yours?”

“You will not politically undermine me or any future Lord Black in any of our ventures. You do not have to support them, but you will not vote against them.”

Harry nodded his agreement.

“You will remain faithful to Narcissa. There will be no mistresses nor infidelity of any kind.”

“I would never…”

“I know,” Arcturus cut him off. “It is just a standard addendum for those who wish the daughter of their family is not shamed.”

“Agreed.”

“Good,” Arcturus muttered. “You will support her ventures. If she wishes to continue healing, you will respect her decision and not attempt to put a stop to it. If she chooses to pursue anything else that does not bring shame upon you, your house or mine, you will provide the means for her to do so.”

“I will,” Harry confirmed.

“And finally, this is the one that you may find difficult as it may affect your children or theirs,” Arcturus warned. “Should Sirius Orion Black, my current heir, refuse his position, you will run the Black family in his stead as a proxy until one of his own children comes of age. Should he not bear any, or they too refuse their position, one of your children will take on the mantle of Lord Black.”

Harry could only stare at the man dumbfounded. He was not so politically savvy, but he understood that this was not common practice.

“Why?”

“Because I will not leave the family to that sow Walburga or in the hands of the Lestranges,” Arcturus spat. “So, do we have an accord?”

“We do,” Harry agreed after pondering the implications for a moment.

To him, they meant nothing. So long as Narcissa was freed of marrying Malfoy, he would have accepted much worse terms than he had been given.

“Then you need only sign, and it will be done,” Arcturus explained, offering him a familiar, blood-red quill.

Cringing at the feel of it in his hand, he signed where the old man indicated, ignoring the lingering, burning itch when the deed was done.

“I will file these first thing,” Arcturus assured him, rolling up the parchment and sealing it with a wave of his wand. “On a personal note, I am pleased it is you, Peverell. I just hope you’re ready to deal with what is to come,” he added with an amused chuckle. “The Malfoys will not take being slighted this way well.”

“I don’t care,” Harry replied, relieved that he had been successful. “If it comes to it, I will kill them.”

“You’d certainly be doing me a favour,” Arcturus grinned. “I suddenly find myself looking forward to this wedding more than I was.”

Melania released a laboured sigh.

“You’re only happy when you’re upsetting someone, Arcturus,” she huffed.

“When you get to my age, there’s nothing more enjoyable than making others suffer,” he retorted. “Take Peverell here, for example. He’s feeling rather pleased with himself now, but that will change when he remembers that Cygnus will be his father-in-law.”

Arcturus laughed heartily as Harry grimaced.

“It could be worse,” Melania sighed. “It could be Walburga.”

Arcturus hummed.

“That would be worse, fucking bint,” he grumbled. “Anyway, excuse us, Peverell, but it is rather late, and we have quite the occasion to attend in the morning. I look forward to seeing you there.”

Harry offered the man a nod before taking his leave from the house.

He didn’t know if Narcissa would be angry with him for what he’d done, but at worst, she wouldn’t be married to Malfoy so he could endure her ire if that was what he were to face.

All that remained now was to deal with her reaction, and that of the other wedding guests.

He snorted at the thought.

This could become quite the messy affair.

End Flashback

The expression Narcissa was giving him was indiscernible, her eyes still wide as she rose from her seat, walked around the table and towards him.

He felt nervous as she stopped only a foot or so away and stared at him questioningly, her lips parting slightly to speak when she was interrupted.

“NO!” Lucius denied loudly, his wand in hand. “She is to be my wife.”

Harry glared balefully at the man; his own wand ready should Lucius wish to prove himself the fool.

A part of him hoped he would, and he tilted his head to the side as his magic began pulsing throughout him.

“That is a rather stupid and dangerous claim to make, Malfoy,” Harry replied coldly. “Did you not hear, Lord Black? The contract is signed, and unless you wish to take issue with me, I suggest you sit down and shut up.”

Lucius was furious but he was not so stupid to accept such a challenge, and a firm shake of his father’s head was enough for him to concede, though he did so unhappily.

“I didn’t think so,” Harry mumbled as he slid his wand back up his sleeve.

It was as though those within the room had frozen, but when his wand was returned, they breathed a sigh of relief and began chattering amongst themselves as Cygnus stared dumbly at Arcturus and Abraxus looked furiously towards him.

“Come with me,” Narcissa said quietly, pulling him by the arm until they were out of the room, followed by Amelia Bones.

“Bloody hell, Peverell, you could have told me that was going to happen,” the redhead huffed, though she wore a look of amusement. “Anyway, I don’t have any reason to stick around anymore, thank Merlin. Congratulations,” she offered before taking her leave through the front door of the venue.

When she was gone, Narcissa gestured for Harry to follow, and they too left the building and began walking the grounds on the outside. After a few moments, Narcissa stopped and stared at him once more.

“Why?” she asked. “Did you do it out of some kind of noble stupidity so I wouldn’t have to marry him?”

She was confused and Harry could understand that, but he did not want her to believe that was his motivation. He was terribly inexperienced with things like this, but he needed to be honest with her. He needed her to understand.

“No,” he denied firmly. “I did it because the thought of you marrying him made me sick to my stomach, because you deserve better than him. Whether or not you think I am, that’s up to you to decide, but I had to do something. If I didn’t, I would spend the rest of my life regretting it and wondering what if.”

“So, you went immediately for marriage?” she questioned, an amused grin tugging at her lips.

“Do you think your grandfather would have settled for anything less?”

Narcissa shook her head.

“No, he wouldn’t,” she sighed. “You’re an idiot though. You do realise we will actually have to get married.”

“I’m struggling to see the problem with that,” he replied, “Unless you don’t want to?”

“No,” she said quickly, “it’s not that, I’m just surprised, and confused. I don’t want you to think you had to do this to save me.”

“I didn’t,” Harry assured her. “I did it for me as much as I did you.”

She offered him a bright smile, one of the very same that had warmed him and plagued his dreams for months.

“I meant what I said last night,” she replied. “If I hadn’t have met you, I would have probably been content with marrying Lucius, but not now.”

“And I would have been an idiot if I didn’t do what I did,” Harry snorted. “Are you angry with me?”

Narcissa shook her head.

“No, this is the sweetest thing you could have ever done. It’s completely crazy, but that’s just you all over, and I’m sorry if you felt that you were forced into this. I’m not unhappy but I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I won’t,” Harry assured her. “I would have regretted it more if I’d done nothing.”

Narcissa sighed as she looked at him.

“People won’t like this. All the Lords will feel slighted that you’re marrying me and not one of their daughters,” she pointed out. “I’m not in the line of inheritance and they will hold it against you for choosing someone lesser.”

“I really don’t care,” Harry returned with a shrug. “If they have a problem with it, they can take it up with me. You’re not lesser than anyone, and you shouldn’t think otherwise. You’re going to be the Lady Peverell, and if Arcturus is right about my family’s standing, they will be much lesser than you.”

Narcissa laughed heartily.

“You have got to be the most frustrating, insane and wonderful person I have ever met. I really can’t believe you did this,” she huffed before throwing herself into his arms and pressing her lips gently against his in a chaste kiss. “Is this really what you want?” she asked nervously when she pulled away.

Harry nodded.

“It is. I’m not very good with things like this but, yes, I’ve never been surer about anything as I am about marrying you.”

And that was the truth. He had fallen for her and couldn’t see her married to another, not when he felt this way.

She smiled once more, before frowning.

“What did my grandfather ask of you? He wouldn’t have just agreed without getting something out of it.”

“Why don’t we go and speak to him and you can find out for yourself? Honestly, I don’t really remember the terms,” he added sheepishly.

Narcissa gave him an amused look of irritation as she took him by the hand and led him back towards the venue.

“You really are something, Harry,” she muttered. “I bet he could have asked for your wand hand and you would have agreed.”

Harry frowned thoughtfully and shook his head.

In the state he had been in, she was probably right.

“Ah, Lord Peverell,” a male voice spoke as they entered the front door, “Allow me to be the first to offer you my congratulations.”

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine.

He knew that voice and the face that it belonged to. He had to fight the urge to reach for his wand knowing that Narcissa would only get hurt were he to act upon his impulse to strike the man down.

“Thank you,” he replied stiffly, aware that Narcissa was looking between the two of them questioningly.

“It is a very good match, a very good match indeed,” the man mused aloud, his green eyes flashing red, so quickly that most would have thought it nothing but a trick of the light. “Lucius will calm down and I can assure you that none in there wishes you harm. They are merely shocked by the turn of events.”

“And there was me looking forward to killing a few more people,” Harry sighed. “Maybe another day, if they do attempt to harm me.”

The man offered him a bow of acknowledgement.

“I see no reason why they would,” he replied. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you. Perhaps one day we can meet under more pleasant circumstances. I find myself intrigued by you.”

“Perhaps we could,” Harry agreed.

“Then I wish yourself and your future bride well.”

With that, the man was gone, and Harry watched him until he disapparated when he was a short distance away, the urge to curse him very difficult to ignore.

“Who was that?” Narcissa asked.

“Someone I am keeping a very close eye on,” Harry answered ominously.

Narcissa looked at him confused but did not press the issues any further, much to his relief.

Voldemort’s appearance only served to remind him why he had been brought here and who he was under the Peverell armour he wore.

A part of him felt guilty that Narcissa did not know the truth, but it was not something he could tell her. It was not something he could tell anyone.

“Harry Potter does not exist where you are going.”

The words of the cloaked figure reminded him that, for all intents and purposes, he was no longer Harry Potter. He was Harry Peverell, a name that became more familiar to him with each passing day just as the Potter one faded.

(Break)

Arcturus glared at his furious son as he continued to rant and rave about being undermined, his own irritation growing with how much of a fool the man was making of himself.

Thankfully, there was only family here to witness it or Cygnus would be looked upon as a petulant child.

“Why? Why would you do this? Lucius was a better match for Narcissa than anyone else”

“And now she has an even better one,” Arcturus returned. “You should be pleased. Your daughter is happy and has an excellent husband.”

“But Lucius…”

“Is a shit, just like his father,” Arcturus interrupted. “Have you even considered why Abraxus was so keen on marrying his son to her? It is for the very same reason Corvus wanted Bellatrix to marry Rudolphus.”

Cygnus stared at his father dumbly.

“I don’t understand…”

“Because you’re a fucking moron, boy,” Arcturus spat. “They’re hoping to capitalise on the rift between Sirius and the rest of the family. If he does not accept his position as my heir, then there is weakness, one they hope they can exploit to absorb our line into our own.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Walburga cackled. “Regulus is next in line.”

“Regulus would be dealt with along with any other threat against their ambitions,” Arcturus bit back. “Besides, Regulus is not in line after Sirius. I will not have your influence anywhere near the Lordship position.”

“You would disinherit the only eligible male that is a true Black?” Walburga seethed.

“Ha! If the boy was a true black, he would have the balls to tell you to piss off with your delusions of grandeur,” Arcturus snorted. “He is more wrapped round your finger than Orion and I will not have it. Sirius is my heir, and that will not change.”

“The boy is a disgrace who cavorts with mudbloods! He has always shamed this family.”

Arcturus narrowed his eyes at the woman, his nostrils flaring in anger.

“I will say this once and once only, you toxic hag,” he warned. “You will keep your mouth shut or I will remove your tongue.”

Walburga opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by her husband.

“For the love of Merlin, Walburga, be quiet!”

The woman looked at him in disbelief, shocked by his outburst, and with a growl, she stormed from the room, dragging Regulus with her.

“Do you truly believe that is what is happening?” Orion questioned.

“I do,” Arcturus answered, “and I will not have it. With Peverell as such a close ally, they will think twice at the very least.”

Orion nodded his understanding.

“Then you did the right thing,” he offered. “Peverell is of equal or better standing to us, so it makes sense.”

“No,” Cygnus interjected. “Corvus and Abraxus have been friends to us. I can’t believe they would do this.”

“If you can think of any other reason why Abraxus would have his son married to Narcissa, then I would like to hear it.”

“Because Lucius loves her!”

Arcturus snorted derisively.

“Lucius Malfoy is in love with himself. He merely played his part.”

“And what about Peverell?” Cygnus fired back.

“Peverell was willing to accept nothing for her hand,” Arcturus explained. “I had to damn well force him to take what I was willing to give, and he only did it so I’d sign the bloody contract. He does care for her, that’s good enough for me and should be for you. Narcissa will be happy with him, and cared for, as will the family if things go tits up.”

“Did Narcissa want this match?” Druella asked.

“I did,” a voice sounded from the door and the woman turned to be greeted by the sight of her smiling daughter.

The worry Druella had felt this past week evaporated as she pulled her youngest into her arms and held her close.

“Are you sure?”

Narcissa nodded, her teary eyes saying more than any words could.

“Then I’m happy for you,” Druella whispered.

“I suppose we have another wedding to plan,” Cygnus huffed grumpily. “Not the one I was expecting, but a wedding, nonetheless. Bloody sneaky bastards. You had better look after her, Peverell.”

Arcturus shook his head.

Cygnus was not happy with what had been done but he knew his son would come around when he realised that Narcissa had a much more advantageous match lined up. The man was always thinking of how he could better his own position and was undoubtedly considering the possibilities of his daughter being married to such a prominent lord.

“With my life, if necessary,” Harry promised.

Arcturus believed him too. Peverell was young, perhaps idealistic in many ways, but he was a good man deep down and he couldn’t be happier for him and Narcissa.

With the contract in place and announced, he breathed a sigh of relief knowing that at the very worst, his family would not be left to the buzzards to be picked clean of their worth.

Were any to try, he had a gifted and powerful ally to right that wrong and all the fools had to do was read the contract to understand it.

Whilst he could call Peverell family, none could hope to assert their ambitions upon the Blacks, and for that, he was grateful. Narcissa being happy with the arrangement was merely the icing on the cake for the old man, but the future certainly looked less bleak than it had for some time now.