Unofficial Portkey Archive

The Time of Change

by Olafr ([email protected] )

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated milieu, characters, and situations are owned by J.K. Rowling and her licensees. This is a work of fan fiction, produced solely for enjoyment. No infringement of rights is intended.

Rating: PG-13

Last updated: 11 December, 2004.

Revision 3: Added in scene setting for the shopping trip plus some internal dialogue. Added explanation for Qualitas potion, changed role of goblins, and returned Draco to his status as secondary villain. (He was too powerful in the first version of this chapter.)

Author's Notes: This version should explain things a little better, I hope.

8. A Matter of Will

'Hey, write me a letter and tell me what's been happening,' said Ron hurriedly. 'Poor Pig couldn't get across the water to England, and I'm dying to know what you've been up to.'

Harry nodded. 'It might not be Hedwig who delivers it, Dumbledore's got something funny going on with my mail so it all goes to Moody first.'

'That rotten-'

'No, Ron, he did it after asking me about it!' interrupted Harry. 'It's for my safety... and sanity I think.' He looked around, saw Moody still standing by the door. 'What's the latest count, Moody?'

'As of this morning, three thousand, six hundred and twenty letters and parcels from persons not known to you. One thousand one hundred and seventy of these contain photographs or other items. Two hundred and fifty one had perishable contents and are under stasis; two hundred and three howlers and thirty-five dangerous articles have been destroyed. Sixteen arrests have been made in regard of the latter.'

Ron, Ginny, and Hermione stared at Harry in astonishment. Harry smiled wryly at Ron's reaction. 'I don't suppose you're still jealous about the famous Harry Potter,' he said. 'I'll trade, if you want. I'd trade in a heartbeat except that then you'd be the one in danger and without a family and I can't bear the thought of that.'

With that, he gripped Ron's shoulder and squeezed it companionably. Then he turned and headed for the entrance hall. Hermione and Tonks joined him and he grasped the rope in Tonks' hand. He waved at the still-stunned Ginny and Ron, and then the Portkey hooked him up and the world disappeared.

oOoOoOo

The portkey dumped Harry, Hermione, and Tonks in the middle of the training area in the attic at the Dursley home. Harry landed neatly, not even feeling a wobble - a pleasant change from his unfortunate previous history with portkey landings. Hermione had grasped his arm and he felt her tug on it to keep her balance. Tonks squawked as she began to topple, but Harry grabbed her arm and stopped her from falling over.

'Thanks,' she said with a sheepish smile.

Harry smiled in response, then looked around a little. The smile faded from his face, and he said, 'I'm going to meditate for a bit. Excuse me.'

Hemione cut in. 'Aren't you going to open your presents?' she asked brightly.

Harry frowned in confusion. 'Presents?' He looked down at the bag in his hand, then back at Hermione, smiling once again. 'I didn't expect... I mean, not after this morning....' He stopped and swallowed. Catching Hermione's eyes, then Tonks', he said, 'Thank you. Thanks for everything about today.' Stepping forward, he caught Tonks in a brief but intense hug, then released her and caught up Hermione, who returned the hug, wrapping her arms about him. Tonks embraced the two of them, and Harry felt a return of the warmth of earlier that afternoon.

oOoOoOo

31 July, 1996

Dear Ron,

It was great to see you today. I'm really sorry that I haven't been able to write to you before this summer, but I didn't know where you were! I don't think Hedwig would have liked me if I had addressed a letter to "Ron Weasley, Romania", so I didn't try. Sorry. Still, in person I could tell you stuff I can't say in a letter, so you probably didn't miss much after all.

Thank you very much for the model Antipodean Opaleye; it goes nicely with the Hungarian Horntail you gave me before. It got away when I first unwrapped it, and Tonks had to Immobilus it to get it to come back. Next time I'll read the instructions first! But I like it, it's really cool. It looks great with my other one, and every now and again they'll play together. It's fun to watch but then again pretty weird. I don't think the magic world will ever stop amazing me.

I'll write again soon, but for now I have to go. Thanks again for a great birthday!

Harry.

oOoOoOo

31 July, 1996

Dear Ginny,

It was really great to see you today. Thanks for helping make my birthday party really amazing!

Thank you also for the griffin charm you gave me. It's really wicked - what is it made of? It looks like silver but it's too heavy for that. Tonks tells me that I'd look silly trying to wear it around my neck, so she's telling me to get my ear pierced and wear it that way. Do you approve?

I need to go now, but I'll be writing to you again soon. I'm glad to hear you had a great time in Romania catching up with Charlie and I look forward to hearing more stories from your visit there.

Your friend,

Harry

oOoOoOo

31^st July, 1996

Dear Remus,

It feels odd to call you that, even though you asked me to when we chatted at the party. Thanks very much for coming - it was really nice to see you again. Especially with Sirius gone. I'm sure you miss him even more than I do. I miss him terribly. Even though I guess I didn't know him very long, he was almost like a father to me. You knew him for far longer, and I'm sure it hurts even more for you.

You wouldn't let me say this when we talked, so let me say it now: Even though Sirius' death is not entirely my fault, part of the blame is mine and for that I am very sorry. I wouldn't blame you if you no longer wished to speak with me. The fact that you don't seem to hold it against me amazes me, and I'm grateful for that. When you told me one doesn't push friends away, you were speaking not only to me, but also to yourself, weren't you. Well, anyway, thank you again.

I bet you didn't think I could say that? I've had Hermione and my bodyguard helping me this summer, with reading and talk. Hermione's books on coping with loss and general psychology have been both useful and fascinating, although they're rather uncomfortable reading in places.

Thank you very much for the amazing gift. Where did you find my parents' wands? Not that it matters; I'll treasure them forever as a memory of Mum and Dad. Do you think I can get a feel for them through their wands? Is there such a thing as aura magic?

I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow. I look forward to it. I'm very sorry for not having been in touch so far this summer - at first I wasn't in the mood, and then I wasn't sure if you were doing something sensitive. Do you mind if I remain in touch? You're just about the only person I know who knew my parents well. Of course you're also my favourite teacher so far at Hogwarts; it's a real shame you had to leave.

Anyway, I look forward to seeing you. I know it's a bit strange to write when I expect to see you so soon, but I couldn't wait. If there's anything at all you'd like to talk with me about, please feel free to do so.

I hope you're feeling better soon after the Full Moon on Monday last.

Yours,

Harry.

oOoOoOo

Hermione sat in "her" library chair, Flamel's book open on her lap. The book was ignored, though, as she watched Harry write a stack of letters - thank-you letters, if she knew Harry. As she watched, he finished one with a flourish, sealed it with wax and a touch from his wand, then started the next.

She wanted to lose herself in study, but could not. It was frustrating not to be able to take refuge in her books, but as she watched Harry she realised that she had a decision to make. Earlier today, Ron had been all over her. He had been reaching out to her in classic "I want you" body language... but she did not feel as though she wanted him. She had known for some time that Ron had feelings for her. At first she thought she might have felt answering feelings in herself, but over the summer her feelings had changed. Friendship, yes, and fellowship... but whatever she felt for Ron, and no matter what Ron felt for her, she did not love him.

But... did she love Harry? He was easily her best friend, a far better friend that Ron if you could get past his tendency to push people away. At least she thought she understood why he did that now. She had devoured a number of psychology books and had privately discussed Harry with her parents' friends the Radfords, the psychologists. They had told her that it was likely the Dursleys' behaviour towards Harry had forced him to become independent and not to ask questions, and given her descriptions of his behaviour they felt he had no concept of self-worth.

And yet, he wasn't a weak person, not by any measure. His tendency to defer to others sometimes made him look that way, but there was something within him that was adamantine. When he believed that something was right and had to be done, he let nothing deflect him - the misguided trip into the Department of Mysteries was only the latest evidence of that. Somehow, in spite of or even because of his upbringing, he had become a person to admire in everything except his belief that his own existence had little value.

He loved her, of that she was utterly certain, although she didn't know whether it was a romantic love. The Radfords had astonished her when they warned her that Harry probably didn't understand romantic love, and may not even understand physical love, or even simple touch, whether friendly or intimate. But whether that was true or not, he loved her with an intensity and a sureness few others could match - her reading of some of the books referenced in Flamel's book told her that the ring was ample evidence of that. And she knew absolutely that she loved him - he was her best friend, and they depended on each other. But... would he want her as a wife? Would she want him as a husband? Be the father of her children? She felt a warmth within herself at the thought, even as her rational mind noted that she still didn't know the answer for sure, and probably wouldn't for some time.

At the desk, Harry had now finished his letters and, curiously, handed them to Tonks instead of calling over Hedwig. He then spent some time petting Hedwig, talking to her and making much of her. Deciding to sate her curiosity, Hermione closed the book, set it aside, and got up.

Harry looked up at her and smiled as she came near him. 'Hi, Hermione,' he said happily. She sat next to him, half facing him and Hedwig.

'You're not sending your mail with Hedwig?' she asked.

He shook his head. 'There's too many letters, and besides, Dumbledore arranged a secure system for me to use. Anyway, most of them are for members of the Order. So this time, I'm not using Hedwig.'

Hermione leaned into Harry a little as she reached past him a little to pet Hedwig. The white feathers around the snowy owl's neck were so soft she could hardly believe it, and she smiled as Hedwig leaned into her caress a little. The big golden eyes caught her and for a long moment it almost seemed as though she was being judged by the owl. A brief sense of otherness flashed through her, and then Hedwig gently nibbled her finger, the horny beak gently pressing on the tough skin of the first knuckle of her finger where her long use of a quill had left a semi-permanent indentation and a light callus.

'I can see why you like her so much,' she said.

Harry nodded. 'She's really special.' Like you, his eyes said to her, although then they shuttered and he looked away. Frustration rose in her, but she ruthlessly suppressed it; she hoped it had not reached her face. He went on, 'Did you find what you were looking for?' as he indicated the library area with his eyes.

'Yes. I was reading about the Harbat rings, Harry. I...' She hesitated, then grasped her determination and Gryffindorness. 'I understand now what the ring means, Harry, and I want you to know that I feel the same way. If I had the materials, perhaps I could make one for you. I'd like to try. I don't know if I have the power or...' She allowed her uncertainty to cut off her voice. She looked up to see Harry smiling at her brilliantly, his eyes incandescent.

'Here, take this,' he said, handing her the remains of the gold ingot he had used to make her ring. 'Whether you make the ring or not, whether you can or not, it won't change the fact that you're my best friend, Hermione. My very best friend.'

Hermione's heart skipped a beat and she could not help but grin widely. 'Thank you, Harry. Thank you very much.'

Tonks came over with such exquisite timing that Hermione knew that she had been listening. 'Come on, Hermione, let's make dinner. Did you want to learn some cooking magic? I've gotten quite good at it this summer.'

Harry grinned at Tonks and after briefly patting Hermione's arm, stood up. 'I'm going to meditate. Dumbledore told me something that I need to think about.'

Tonks nodded and gave him a gentle shove towards his bed. 'You do that, Harry, but don't let yourself get too internally focused. Whatever you learn meditating on your bed, you need to be able to do while you're fighting, too.'

'I know, I know,' he said easily, his serious manner dropping away as he bantered with Tonks. 'But I have to learn it first, don't I?'

'Yeah, yeah, off you go. Come on, Hermione.'

oOoOoOo

Dinner was a small round of fillet steak, served on polenta with a redcurrant sauce. In a bowl was a large garden salad. Harry was a little uncertain about the stiff, golden polenta at first but after tasting it, he quickly ate about half of it, dipping it in the sauce, before slowing down.

'So, what do you think, Harry?' asked Hermione, breaking the silence that had fallen.

'This is delicious!' he exclaimed. Lowering his knife and fork, he smiled over at Hermione. 'It's really different from anything we've had before. Did you cook this, Hermione?'

She nodded modestly. 'Yes. I'm glad you like it.'

'It's really nice,' he replied. Tonks grunted agreement enthusiastically as she chewed on a mouthful of food.

'Mother cooks it sometimes,' said Hermione, with a pleased smile.

Harry looked up into the distance and smiled. 'You know, today has been so wonderful. I still feel so good, like there's a glow. It's a really odd feeling, but I can't keep from feeling good.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' said Tonks. 'Now that was how a birthday should be!'

Hermione nodded in agreement. 'Yes, it was a lovely party. And you looked so nice, Harry. You really should wear clothing that fits properly more often, you know.' Harry's expression clouded briefly, but then he nodded and he fixed Hermione with his eyes.

'Well, then, why don't we go shopping tomorrow? We have to go to Diagon Alley anyway to go to the reading of the will, and the clothes you two gave me looked and felt so nice, well, I have plenty of money in Gringotts, do you think you could help me choose the clothes?'

Tonks and Hermione shared a look. This kind of happy verbal diahorreah was terribly out of character for Harry. Still, there was nothing for it but to agree.

'Sure thing, Lover-boy,' said Tonky enthusiastically. 'Do we get to burn your old stuff afterwards?'

'I'd be happy to,' added Hermione. 'Tonks, do you know a suitable place? I'm afraid I'm not really all that familiar with Diagon Alley, since we only go there once a year for my school things.'

Tonks shook her head. 'I don't but I bet Moody does. I'll ask him later when I check in before we go to bed.'

'Do you check in with him every night?'

Harry's attention was diverted. 'I never noticed. I wonder why? I mean, how could I miss you sneaking out every night just before bed? I mean-'

'Shush, Harry,' interjected Tonks. 'Of course you didn't notice; I'm an Auror. But if you're finished with dinner, it's time to teach you two about disguise and concealment. Come on, let's get started.'

oOoOoOo

Moody and Tonks met beneath invisibility cloaks in the front yard of the house at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging. Their heads together, Moody muttered sourly.

'What's this with you wanting to meet in person, Tonks? What came up that can't be handled with a messenger spell?'

'I'm worried about Harry. He's been really off-centre this evening. Ever since we came back from Headquarters, he's been really hyper, running off at the mouth like he hasn't got a brain in his head. It's so unlike him.'

Moody snorted. 'Don't worry about it, Tonks. It's just the potion. He over-juiced it, that's all. He'll be fine once we sleep it off.'

Tonks stared at the thin air that she knew held Moody. 'Over-juiced it?'

'Sure. Trust him to put his whole effort into it. You're only supposed to give it a bit of a jolt. But he didn't, probably because Dumbledore didn't say anything and he didn't know any better, so he shared a lot more of himself than was intended. So we're all juiced up on the feelings he put into it, and they're feeding back to him like they're meant to but they're all so strong that his system can't deal with it. But once everyone gets some sleep and lets it all bleed off, the level of feedback'll come back to a more normal level. And once he gets a good night's sleep, his system'll adjust and we won't notice it any more until he needs it.'

'What are you talking about, Moody?'

'Tonks, the kid's not the only one who needs to do a bit of reading. Qualitas ain't just a coming of age thing, you know. It's a community ritual. It promotes solidarity and good feeling when done normally. But here's the thing that's not generally known: It also sets up power sharing links. Each of us can call upon Potter's power, now, and he can call on each of us. Usually it's nothing major, but now that I think about it, Dumbledore no doubt deliberately let the kid over-power the potion like he did to increase the efficiency of the sharing. Did you see how much of the potion changed? The sharing channels must be like bloody great hose pipes. No doubt part of the reason he's so hyper at the moment.'

Tonks thought about this for a moment, controlling her emotions with practice but not with ease. Eventually she said, 'All this is because of You-know-who, of course.'

'That's right. The kid's powerful, but Dumbledore must be worried it won't be enough. So...'

Crickets broke a long silence as they both contemplated this thought. Eventually Moody spoke again.

'Was there anything else?' he asked at last.

'Yeah. Harry's let us take him shopping tomorrow. Get him a whole new wardrobe. He's asked me and Hermione to help him pick. That's great; we can help him out. But we both know Lover Boy's richer than sin, even if he doesn't. The Great Families expect him to dress to a certain standard, as you know.'

'Yeah, I know; why do you think they didn't do anything about Fudge's slander and libel last year?'

Tonks stopped for a moment to stare at the thin air next to her. 'Oh. Yeah. Well, anyway, where should we go to get his stuff? You seem to know everything.'

'There's only one place to take him, Tonks.'

oOoOoOo

The next day, it was about ten o'clock in the morning when a wizard and two witches appeared in a room in the Leaky Cauldron. This room was an ordinary hotel room, reserved the previous night by one of the Order members. All three were dressed conservatively: The wizard, who was of medium height and wore plain, black robes with a white shirt-collar peeking out, had neck-length hair the colour of polished oak peeking out from beneath his rather broad-brimmed, pointed hat.

The two witches appeared to be wizard's sisters, one elder, one younger or the same age. The younger witch wore Hogwarts robes which declared her to be a Ravenclaw, while the elder wore a light dress of flattering cut beneath summer half-robes. Her wide, hazel eyes twinkled in the dimness of the room as the wizard tucked away the short length of rope that had been the portkey that had got them here.

'All right there, you two?' she asked in a quiet voice. Two nods were her reply. 'Good,' she continued. 'Harry, don't forget you're called...'

'Iain,' he replied to Tonks' non-verbal prompt.

'Julia,' added the disguised Hermione.

'And you're Nymphadora,' added Harry with a grin.

'Elizabeth!' snarled Tonks, her eyes flashing red. Harry quailed, then recovered with a shiver.

'Don't do that!' he said. 'Reminds me of Vol--'

'Okay, okay, I get the idea,' put in Tonks, cutting Harry off before he could finish Voldemort's name.

There was a long moment of quiet, before Hermione said brightly, 'So, where are we going first?'

'Buckley's,' said Tonks succinctly.

Harry sighed resignedly and followed Hermione and Tonks out of the Leaky Cauldron.

oOoOoOo

Diagon Alley was not crowded, Harry was pleasantly surprised to discover. Knots of people, mostly women, some with children, were scattered throughout the visible parts of the Alley, with some lone shoppers walking purposefully here and there. He mused that this was much more pleasant than in the last few days before school went back when it seemed that half the population of the Wizarding world did its shopping at once.

Tonks led the way down a part of the Alley he had only visited briefly during the summer he had blown up Aunt Marge and run away to the Leaky Cauldron. Its sober signs and restrained storefronts had not been interesting to him at the time; in fact he had been somewhat intimidated, so he had not explored thoroughly.

Now, though, he saw with more experienced eyes that there were all kinds of interesting things tucked away down here. Tonks led a cracking pace, though, so he just noted that he should spend some time exploring down here more thoroughly before she led them through the front door of a shop that oozed restrained elegance. The sign on the glass said, Buckley and Nunn, Gentleman's Outfitters.

Inside, the smell of new cloth and the vague spiciness of leather and wool stored in cedar tickled Harry's nostrils. A bell tinkled discreetly as the door closed behind them, and from behind a curtain a tall, cadaverously thin man came, strutting in long, awkward strides like a wading bird.

'Good day, madame,' he said with a peculiarly emphatic movement of his adam's apple, almost as though he was gulping his words even though they were mellifluously enunciated. 'How may I assist you?' His eyes drifted to Harry expectantly.

'My cousin needs a new wardrobe. Everything,' said Tonks. She pinned the man with a stern gaze. 'He would prefer that his presence not be... advertised.'

The man managed to look offended without losing his vaguely servile expression. 'I assure you, madam, that Buckley and Nunn prides itself on its discretion even more than on the quality of its merchandise.' He pulled out a wand and waved it, muttering a brief phrase. A door revealed itself near the curtain, which the man pushed open. 'My name is Rogers. Please step inside and we will begin.'

Behind the door was a large fitting room with mirrors on all four walls. A low platform about six inches high and two feet square stood to one side, and a curtain could be drawn across the middle of the room. A three-seat couch and an armchair sat in the public side of the room. Rogers herded Harry into the curtained side of the room, saying, 'Please be seated, ladies, and we will begin.' The door closed itself behind Hermione as she followed Tonks into the room, and Harry looked to Tonks. She waved her wand at him and his hair returned to its normal black. At Tonks' nod, he removed his hat.

As he did so, he watched the man, Rogers. He was gratified to see that apart from a brief flick of the man's eyes to his forehead, there was no reaction. Doffing his cloak, he fought back a wry smile as Rogers' lip curled at the condition and fit of Harry's rather ragged clothes.

Into the silence, Hermione put in, 'Harry is forced to live with his relatives, who treat him abominably. They have never bought him clothes of his own; instead, he is forced to wear their rather obese son's hand-me-downs.' Shocked at her mortifying admission, Harry turned to yell her into silence but held his voice when he noticed how embarrassed she looked. 'Harry has ample funds of his own, but has not been able to access them, or Diagon Alley, until now for a variety of reasons.'

Unable to keep quiet any more, Harry hissed, 'Hermione!'

Hermione's eyes flashed. 'Be quiet, Harry,' she said. 'We have to trust Mr Rogers. We can trust him because if it became known that he talked about any client of his, his business would evaporate overnight. He and other shopkeepers like him cater to the rich and people who desire privacy, and they charge a premium for that service. It's his job to make you look as good as possible, because if he made you look stupid he would risk his reputation, and reputation is everything in a store of this kind.'

Harry stared at Hermione, mouth agape. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and was about to speak when Rogers cut in.

'Quite so,' he said proudly. 'I do not recognise you, ma'amselle...?'

Hermione glanced at Tonks who waved her wand and muttered a few words, and her appearance returned to her real self with a shimmer. 'I am Hermione Granger. This lady is Harry's guard.' Her tones were pure upper crust, with a core of steel. Harry had never quite heard the like before from her. He returned his gaze to Rogers, and was amazed to see him smiling genteelly. The man appeared much more relaxed, almost like a cart horse settling into harness.

'Very good, Miss Granger,' he said with a bow. 'If you will wait a moment, I will measure Mr Potter and we will begin, if that is acceptable.' Rogers waited for Hermione's regal nod before drawing the privacy curtain.

oOoOoOo

'I hate this stupid hat,' muttered Harry as the long pointed tip of said hat caught for the third time on one of the overhead signs in Diagon Alley. Tonks' hat-stick charm, which prevented the hat from being ripped from his head (which she had applied after the second almost-revealing of the boy-who-lived's scar and eyes), jerked his scalp painfully.

'I told you, walk in the middle of the road so you don't catch it,' said Tonks.

'But it feels so rude just to barge down the middle like that,' he complained.

'And what about them? Aren't they being rude by forcing you to go around like that?'

Harry shrugged. 'I can't help other people.'

Tonks and Hermione shared a glance, and Hermione chimed in.

'It's a shame you couldn't get the disguise charms down, Harry,' she said easily.

'Iain!' hissed Tonks under her breath.

'Iain,' corrected Hermione with a blush. 'Still, I suppose you just need a bit more practice.'

Harry shrugged. 'Maybe.' Under his breath, he added, 'Bloody scar.'

As the three of them ambled along Diagon Alley back towards Gringotts from Florean Fortescue's, where they had gone to kill time after finishing early at Buckley and Nunn's. They stepped around knots of gossiping housewives and clumps of people who gathered around some spectacular window displays by the stores that populated the most desirable part of the Alley - from a retail point of view - near the Leaky Cauldron, Harry thought back to the rather rushed disguise training that Tonks had given Hermione and himself last night. Hermione had had no problems, and was able to produce a credible disguise in fairly short order. But Harry himself had had no end of problems. No matter what he tried, he had been unable to make a disguise stick except for his hair.

Harry rather thought that his scar was the root of his problems in that area. He could feel the illusion beginning to take before it would suddenly unravel, accompanied by a... well, not a twinge, as such, but the oddest feeling from his scar.

And so it was that he was wearing this ridiculous getup on a lovely summer's day while Tonks and Hermione - no, Julia, he reminded himself - got to be comfortable. It didn't help that there were any number of other people dressed just like him in Diagon Alley that day; Harry's sensibilities were still thoroughly Muggle for all that he had spent so much of his life - all his teens, really - in the Wizarding world.

When they finally ascended into the main lobby of Gringott's, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Even with the coming reading of the will, which he was honestly dreading, it was nice to not have to worry about his scalp being pulled off his head.

He grimaced a wry smile to himself. Perhaps he exaggerated. A little.

'This way,' said Tonks. She led them over to a desk to one side of the tellers, where an elderly goblin sat. As Tonks approached, he looked at her in a polite, but wordless, inquiry. 'Despatch department,' she said. 'Four o'clock.'

A flick of his eyes to the hidden top of his desk, and with a gesture of his right hand a door behind him opened. 'Please enter,' he said neutrally, the gesture of his hand becoming an invitation to pass to the door.

Tonks nodded her head, and stepped past him to the door in the wall behind the goblin. Harry and Hermione followed. They entered a small, windowless room and the door closed behind them. A moment later, the other side of the room changed to reveal a doorway, which opened of its own accord. Through a brief attack of dizziness, Harry saw another windowless room, this one furnished comfortably with a large semi-circular table surrounded on its circular side by leather-upholstered chairs. The walls were old-fashioned, wood panelled up to eye height with white plaster above in the Tudor style, and the floor, also of wood, was covered in a large rug of intricate, twisted design in red and blue.

Other than the furniture, the room was empty. Tonks led the way in and plonked herself down in a chair. Harry and Hermione paused, looking about.

'You may as well sit down,' said Tonks. 'The others will arrive soon, and then the reading will take place.'

Harry slipped into the seat to Tonks' left, and Hermione sat to his left, which was at the end of the table. 'Say, Tonks, why did you ask for the Despatch Department?' he blurted suddenly. He was amazed to hear Tonks giggle.

'It's from the newspapers,' she said in response to the strange looks she got from both teens. 'There's a section called Births, Deaths, and Marriages, right? Well, the slang term for that is Hatches, Matches, and Despatches.' Hermione giggled immediately, and a few moments later Harry grinned in spite of himself. The he looked around, the smile left his face, and he closed his eyes. For a long moment there was utter silence.

'I wonder why they've got a blackjack table in here?' mused Hermione to herself. She looked to Harry, who had now had a peaceful look on his face, then to Tonks, who was smiling wistfully at Harry. Hermione was about to say something when Tonks' eyes flicked to the door behind them. It opened with the rattle-click of a turning doorknob, and in walked a tall woman of regal bearing, her long, blonde hair caught in silver hairclips to drape freely over her back. Her black mourning dress was beautifully tailored. Behind her came Draco Malfoy, also dressed in black, his eyes hungry and an anticipatory grin on his face.

When he saw Harry and Hermione, however, his eyes blazed and his fists clenched, his mouth twisting into a sneer. 'What are Potty and the mudblood doing here?' he spat hatefully.

'Draco,' said Narcissa in a warning tone. She pulled out the chair next to Tonks and prepared to sit. She paused, looking back at her son Draco who was trembling, like a pit bull terrier about to pounce.

'I asked you a question, Potty!' he snarled.

Harry came out of his trance and looked around, a half-smile on his face. 'Good day to you, Draco,' he said calmly, almost welcomingly. 'Are you having a pleasant summer break?'

Hermione's eyes widened at the wildly uncharacteristic utterance, then widened further as the likely reaction such a statement would generate occurred to her. She shifted her gaze to Draco, and was rewarded by the sight of his eyes popping, his pale complexion disappearing beneath the flush of apoplexy as rage gripped him.

'Why you...!'

Harry shrugged and turned away, ignoring Draco, while Tonks looked up at Narcissa. 'Long time no see, Aunt Narcissa,' she said with a grin.

Narcissa turned her icy gaze onto Tonks. 'Hello, Nymphadora,' she said neutrally.

'I see you're still having problems instilling basic politeness into young Draco, there,' said Tonks. Narcissa gave Tonks a look and sat.

The fingers of Draco's right hand flexed, and his wand appeared in his hand.

'Do, please, use magic, Mr Malfoy' said Tonks, suddenly alert. 'Please give me an excuse.'

'I'll do what I want, you half-muggle mutt,' snarled Draco. 'I asked a question and I expect an answer!'

'Draco!' Narcissa's voice cracked like a whiplash. 'Sit down and be quiet. If you use that wand, you will truly deserve what follows.'

Draco was taken aback at the lack of support from his mother. 'W-wha?'

Tonks smiled viciously. '"Stupidity is the only capital crime, the sentence is death, there is no appeal, and execution is immediate." Heinlein - an interesting fellow.'

Hermione smiled at Tonks' comment, making a mental note to look the saying up later.

The door opened again, and Remus Lupin entered, followed by Arthur and Molly Weasley, and almost immediately thereafter a door behind the flat part of the table opened and a goblin of indeterminate age entered, carrying a bluish metal cylinder about a foot long and three inches in diameter. It looked to Harry almost like a scroll case. A rather aged wizard in formal business robes, carrying a thick pile of parchment, followed the goblin.

'If you will all be seated, we will begin,' said the Goblin in a businesslike fashion. With a glance at Draco, he added, 'I remind you all of Gringott's policy regarding the use of magic.'

Everyone moved to be seated except Draco, who looked lost standing on his own despite the aggressive posture he held, his wand ready to strike.

The goblin looked significantly at Narcissa. She closed her eyes and sighed. 'Draco! If you do not put up your wand now I will break it myself!'

Harry smiled at Draco's predicament as the platinum-haired boy stood there indecisively, pride warring against obedience, until finally he relaxed and his wand disappeared. The look he threw at Harry promised death, but Harry continued to smile peacefully at Draco. It had come to him that in an environment such as Gringott's, where a total ban on the use of wand magic was strictly enforced by the goblins, the best way he could annoy his enemy would be to be excruciatingly polite to him.

And so he had, even though it required iron control to do so. The way Draco had reacted had been a magnificent reward, and Harry promised himself to do it again as soon as he could. As Draco sat, reluctance in every line of his body, Harry smiled at him politely then turned his attention to the goblin.

'This is the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Sirius Terence Black. My name is Mortlock. My assistant is Mr Reginald Pace from Pace, Fairchild, and Wills. This firm administers both the Black and the Potter family trust, amongst others. Thank you all for attending today.' Mortlock sat, and Pace stood up, resting his hands upon the stack of parchment.

'Before we begin the usual process, there is a prerequisite step that must be completed. Mr Potter?' Pace's voice was firm and assured despite his apparent advanced age.

'Yes?' asked Harry.

'Mr Black wished to adopt you. He was prevented by a Ministry bar on his actions due to his status as an escaped prisoner. However, the paperwork which was required before you could be asked was submitted some months before his death, and with his pardon, it could be processed. It now has been.' Pace laid a single sheet of parchment on the table in front of Harry.

'The adoption requires only your approval to go forward. To anticipate some likely questions, if you are adopted, you have the choice of calling yourself Potter, Black, Potter-Black, or Black-Potter. You would remain the scion of the Potter family. The Potter family trusts, properties, and so forth would not be merged with the Black trusts; they would remain separate from the Black family inheritance and you will be required to maintain them that way, preferably by appointing separate heirs for each.'

'If I do not sign, what will happen?' He wanted to ask about the Potter family trust but managed to hold his tongue, concentrating on the most important question.

Pace's expression remained fixed as far as Harry could tell, but something about him conveyed the impression that not to sign would have a bad outcome. 'Then you would not have been adopted into the Black family as Sirius Black's son on 13 March of this year.'

Harry closed his eyes. He already had two dead parents... why would he want a third? And yet, some instinct told Harry that Sirius had gone to a great deal of trouble to do this. It was an expression of Sirius' love for him, a declaration that he wanted to live as a family with him. The words of Sirius' hasty letter to him came back to him...

Opening his eyes and wiping away the beginnings of tears, Harry nodded. 'I'll do it. I'll do it in memory of Sirius.'

'AVA-!'

'DRACO!' Narcissa's voice cracked like a whip, stilling the room as if an Impedimentia charm had been cast. Harry jerked his attention from the goblin to see that Narcissa had Draco's wand hand in her own, holding it down. Draco's rage was incandescent.

Looking back, Harry took a quill from Pace. He signed as the goblin directed, then held still as Pace pressed a lancet into the pad of his thumb to drip a drop of blood onto the contract. It was immediately absorbed and the contract flashed white.

'It is done,' said Pace formally. 'I acknowledge you as, Harry James Potter-Black, son of Sirius Terence Black.' The air shimmered, there was a brief pressure on his being, and then it was done. He sat, and shuffled some papers to the bottom of the stack before him.

There was a moment of silence during which Mortlock looked from Tonks to Narcissa. Getting the hint, Tonks sat forward and turned to Narcissa. 'Aunt Narcissa, I must caution you formally that if your son so much as begins another spell today, I will be forced to arrest him and charge him with at least three offences, one of which, if he were to be convicted, carries a mandatory sentence of imprisonment. I have not done so already out of recognition of the family bonds we share, but I can no longer take that into consideration. I'm sorry.'

'I thank you for your forbearance,' said Narcissa in tones that were velvet lined with steel. 'As well as that of Gringott's bank. The family of Malfoy most humbly apologises for the behaviour of its son. I assure both of you that he will behave himself henceforth. If necessary I will silence him myself, after seeking permission from Mortlock, of course.' Her eyes glanced at the impassive goblin, who was waiting patiently for them to be ready to continue. He nodded slightly, and Narcissa returned her molten gaze to her son. Unable to stand up beneath the threat of that gaze, he bowed his head and, flushed with embarrassment, sat down without a word.

'If we are ready, we will begin the reading of the will itself.' Mortlock touched the table, and a circular part of its surface the same size as the metal cylinder rose up about an inch. He set the cylinder on the raised section of the table, then ran his finger down its side as if he were opening a vault door.

The cylinder broke in to four parts, the sides laying down flat. Within it, a white substance remained in cylindrical shape, then reformed itself into a model about eighteen inches high of Sirius Black sitting in a chair. Harry gasped, but retained his control.

'Hi, everyone. I declare my son, Harry James Potter-Black, to be my principal heir. So take that and stick it up your arse, Draco Malfoy, I know you're there, no doubt hoping to get your sticky little hands on the Black fortune. Well you're shit outta luck, kid, so why don't you go take a long walk off a short pier.' The miniature figure of Sirius paused for a moment to grin viciously before composing himself. He continued in more measured tones, as though reading from a document.

'As per the conditions of the trust, the liquid assets of the Black family trust are divided equally between Harry James Potter-Black, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, and Andromeda Black Tonks. In the event that any of them predecease me, their share is to be distributed amongst those remaining. Control of the Black Family Trust, and all the goods and chattels therein, passes to Harry James Potter-Black.

'My entire personal belongings and wealth I bequeath to my son, Harry James Potter-Black, except as follows:

'To Remus Lupin, last of the true Marauders, one hundred thousand galleons. I also bequeath to Remus my little black books, and the sum of five thousand galleons which must be spent within thirty days of the bequest, solely on clothing and accessories. Remus, my old friend, let me do for you in death what you would never permit while I lived.

'To Arthur and Molly Weasley, for taking such good care of my son when I could not, fifty thousand galleons.

'To Nymphadora Tonks, my favourite niece, ten thousand galleons.

'To Fred and George Weasley, worthy successors to the Marauders, ten thousand galleons.

'To Ron Weasley, son of Arthur Weasley and good friend of my son, ten thousand galleons and my collection of racing brooms.

'To Hermione Granger, for supporting my son at all times through thick and thin, twenty thousand galleons. In addition, a diminishing-balance fifty-year trust fund shall be established from my personal wealth sufficient to provide Hermione with an annual stipend of one thousand galleons, to be used for the purchase of books.

'And that's all. I look forward to seeing some of you again, but not for a long, long time.'

The figure dissolved and the metal container snapped shut, once more containing the white material. Mortlock laid a bulky scroll next to it.

'This is the legal version of Mr Black's Last Will and Testament. It will be available for review to anyone who requests it. Except for a secret codicil which will be dealt with privately between the parties concerned, its substance is no different from what was just heard.'

There was a long silence, then Draco stood so violently that his chair tipped over backwards and went skittering noisily across the floor. Harry met his eyes, and recoiled at the insanity that boiled there. The blonde-haired boy was trembling, a drop of blood trembling as it dangled from the knuckles of one clenched fist.

'You will pay, Potter. You have taken what is rightfully mine. I swear by all that I am, that I will have vengeance!' There was a pause, as if Draco expected something to happen but it did not. Harry looked up at him, fighting to maintain a calm expression, and Draco stormed out, leaving a room full of stunned people behind him.

Narcissa Malfoy was the first to recover. She bowed in Harry's general direction. 'I apologise for the conduct of my son.' Her eyes were somewhat wild, however, and she looked even paler than she had coming into the room. With another sketchy bow, she turned and scurried out of the room.

In her wake was left a nervous silence. Mortlock stood, gathered his things, and left quietly by the door behind him. A moment later another goblin, visibly youthful, scurried in and handed Harry a leather wallet about the size of his hand, embossed with the Gringott's logo, and a piece of stiff parchment sealed with red wax. As the goblin scurried away again, Harry examined the seal on the letter. He didn't recognise it. The goblin handed smaller leather wallets to Tonks and Mrs Weasley, and quietly left.

As though the closing of the door after the young goblin released some kind of weird stasis, everyone suddenly stood up. Mrs Weasley strode over to enfold Harry in a huge hug. 'Oh, Harry,' she cried, pulling his head firmly into her shoulder. 'That's just awful; what a terrible, terrible boy he is!'

Harry got his hands onto Mrs Weasley's shoulders and pushed back gently. 'I'm sure it's nothing,' he said with a weak smile. He saw Tonks, Arthur and Remus exchange a look of concern. Mrs Weasley let him go as Hermione wrapped herself around his left arm. He looked down at her, seeing that her eyes were shimmering.

'It's not nothing, Harry,' she said worriedly. 'You saw what he did - he swore an oath! A vindicius oath!'

Tonks snorted. 'He certainly tried! But he failed.'

Letting out a deep breath, Harry slumped, leaning heavily against Hermione. He felt as though he was a balloon whose air had been let out. 'I know, Hermione, and Nymph, I know that, too,' he said softly. He moved his gaze to Tonks, then Remus and Mr Weasley. 'Even if the oath didn't work, he's going to be more irrational than ever. But what can I do about it except be careful?'

The adults exchanged a glance once again. 'We'll discuss the situation with Albus,' said Mr Weasley at last.

The sombre silence that followed was broken by the sound of the door behind the desk opening once more. A new goblin entered and placed a leather folder and another one of the wallets on the table in front of Mr Pace before turning to leave. Something about the goblin tugged at Harry's memory. He stood straight again, almost unconsciously moving his arm within Hermione's grasp so he could hold her close. Where had he....

'Griphook?' asked Harry uncertainly. The goblin's eyes widened and he looked up at Harry closely. His fleshy lips parted in a toothy smile that revealed carnivorous teeth.

'Mr Potter, I did not expect you to remember me,' he said in a voice that was probably warm for a goblin, Harry thought. 'It has been several years.' Harry nodded wordlessly. 'I will no doubt see you again.' With that, he turned and left.

Mr Pace took the large folder and opened it before Harry, turning it around so he could see its contents.

'Your family's assets will come into your control on your twenty-first birthday,' said Pace. 'From yesterday, your sixteenth birthday, you have been able to get access to the family vaults and draw upon them even though you as yet have no control over the trust assets and its disposition. I must brief you and give you your keys.' He glanced at the other people in the chamber. 'It is best done privately.'

Harry hugged Hermione with his arm briefly. 'I want Hermione and Tonks to be with me.' He looked to the others. 'Does anyone else feel they should stay?' Mr and Mrs Weasley shook their heads and made to withdraw, but Remus Lupin looked torn. Harry noticed this, and said, 'Please stay, Pro-- Remus. If you can help, I'll probably need some advice.'

Remus looked relieved. 'Thank you, Harry. James had to take up the reins of the family's wealth quite early, too, and he would talk with me about some of it, so perhaps I can help.' Harry's eyes grew wide and he nodded eagerly.

'Please stay, then!' he said.

oOoOoOo

Author's Notes Redux: Some ideas and words in this chapter owe their existence to other authors, and it isn't right to just use them without attribution. So this is where I own up.

The notion that Harry becomes Sirius' primary heir is too common to assign to a particular author. The idea of Sirius' bequeathing a book-buying allowance to Hermione came from Harry Potter and the The Year of Rebellion, by Full Pensieve. The notion of a wizard's oath as an actual magical spell comes from numerous works by DrT and Kinsfire. Draco's descrption of Tonks as a "half-muggle mutt" came from Gentry Green by Lisa Roquin, and the notion of Sirius adopting Harry to ensure that he is properly the heir to his fortune and properties comes from Sorceror's Apprentice by Kinsfire.

The quotation that Tonks butchered is from Time Enough For Love, by Robert A. Heinlein: "Stupidity cannot be cured with money, or through education, or by legislation. Stupidity is not a sin, the victim can't help being stupid. But stupidity is the only universal capital crime; the sentence is death, there is no appeal, and execution is carried out automatically and without pity."