Chapter 9
Sirius stared down at the sleek, gleaming broomstick resting across his lap, his fingers running over its polished handle. The craftsmanship was flawless, every detail speaking to the care and expertise that had gone into its creation. The Firebolt prototype was unlike anything he had ever seen, and he couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through him at the thought of taking it for a spin.
But even as excitement bubbled within him, Sirius’s mind returned to the keys now tucked safely into his pocket. A shop in Hogsmeade, given freely by Harrison Peverell. It was an unexpected gift, one that stirred something deeper in him—a sense of possibility he hadn’t felt in years.
For all his rebelliousness and disdain for the Black family’s rigid expectations, Sirius had never lacked ambition. He had always wanted to forge his own path, to prove that he was more than just the heir to an ancient and often oppressive name. And now, with this broomstick and the keys to a shop, he could finally see a way to do just that.
What if I opened my own broom shop? The thought struck him suddenly, and his eyes lit up with the spark of an idea. He had always loved flying, had always been fascinated by the mechanics of broomsticks and how they could be improved. Why not take this opportunity and run with it?
Determined to act, Sirius stood and slung the broomstick over his shoulder. He made his way back into Black Manor, his long strides carrying him through the familiar corridors toward the drawing room where he knew his father and grandfather would be.
As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with Regulus, who was carrying the deed to Peverell’s Apothecary in one hand and the polished potions kit in the other.
“Watch it,” Regulus said sharply, stepping back to avoid dropping his things.
“Reg,” Sirius said, his tone calmer than usual. He gestured to the items in Regulus’s hands. “What’s all that?”
Regulus raised an eyebrow. “A gift from Harrison Peverell. He gave me a potions shop in Knockturn Alley and this kit to get started.”
Sirius blinked, his surprise evident. “He gave you a shop?”
“Yes,” Regulus said, his tone carefully neutral. “And from the look of that broomstick, I’m guessing he gave you something too.”
Sirius held up the Firebolt prototype, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “The fastest broom on the market, apparently. And he threw in a shop in Hogsmeade, said I could use it however I want.”
Regulus frowned slightly, his dark eyes narrowing. “He’s clearly playing to both of us, Sirius. Trying to win us over.”
“Yeah, well,” Sirius said, his tone thoughtful, “maybe it’s working. I’ve been thinking… I could turn that shop into a broom store. Not just selling brooms, but making them. Innovating. There’s so much potential in broom design, and no one’s really pushing the boundaries right now.”
Regulus studied his brother for a moment, his expression softening. “You’ve always been good with brooms,” he admitted. “It could work. But do you really trust Harrison?”
Sirius shrugged. “I don’t trust anyone who comes bearing gifts like this without some kind of agenda. But… I can’t ignore what he’s offering. It’s a chance to do something on my own terms, Reg. I’m not going to pass that up.”
Regulus nodded slowly, his grip tightening on the deed to his own shop. “I suppose that makes sense. But I think we should talk to Father and Grandfather about this. They’ll have insight we don’t.”
Sirius hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.”
The Drawing Room
The brothers entered the grand drawing room together, their father and grandfather both seated near the fireplace. Orion was reading through a stack of documents, while Arcturus sipped a glass of brandy. They both looked up as Sirius and Regulus approached, noting the items they carried with interest.
“Father, Grandfather,” Regulus began, his tone even. “We need to talk.”
Arcturus set his glass down, gesturing for them to continue. “This is about Harrison Peverell, I assume.”
“Yeah,” Sirius said, stepping forward and holding up the broomstick. “He sent me this. Fastest broomstick on the market, apparently. And he gave me the keys to a shop in Hogsmeade. Said I could do whatever I want with it.”
“And he gave me this,” Regulus added, placing the potions kit and deed on the table. “A potions shop in Knockturn Alley, fully deeded to my name. He called it an asset for my future.”
Orion’s gray eyes flicked between his sons, his expression unreadable. “Harrison is certainly making his intentions clear. He wants you both to see him as more than just an outsider. These gifts are not random—they’re tailored to your interests and ambitions.”
Arcturus nodded, his smirk faint. “He’s playing a long game, as expected. But tell me, what do you think of these gestures? Are they enough to sway you?”
Regulus was the first to respond. “They’re impressive, I won’t deny that. He’s thought about what matters to us, and that shows intelligence. But I’m still wary of his motives. This is clearly about securing the family’s approval.”
Sirius, however, stepped forward with more confidence. “I think it’s a damn good start. Look, I’m not saying I trust him completely, but he’s giving me the tools to do something real, something I’ve wanted for years. I want to open a broom shop, Grandfather. Not just sell them, but design them. Build the fastest, most innovative brooms out there. And this shop… it’s the perfect place to start.”
Orion leaned forward slightly, his expression softening. “You’re serious about this, Sirius?”
Sirius smirked at the unintentional pun but nodded earnestly. “Yeah, I am. I’ve always been good with brooms. Flying, fixing, improving—I know I can do this. And for once, it’s something that’s entirely mine.”
Arcturus chuckled softly. “Ambitious, as always. But I’ll admit, it’s a good plan. Hogsmeade is a prime location, and innovation in broom design is a market that’s long overdue for fresh ideas.”
Regulus glanced at his brother, his expression thoughtful. “And if you’re doing that, then I suppose I should make use of what Harrison gave me too. A potions shop in Knockturn Alley… it could be the start of something significant. I’ve always wanted to experiment with new formulas, push the boundaries of what’s possible in alchemy.”
Orion looked between his sons, pride flickering in his eyes. “It seems Harrison’s gifts have sparked something in both of you. Perhaps that was his intention all along.”
Arcturus leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. “Harrison Peverell is proving to be a man of remarkable foresight. He understands this family far better than most would dare to hope. But the question remains—do you trust him enough to accept these opportunities?”
Sirius gripped the broomstick tightly, his gaze steady. “I don’t know if I trust him, but I’m not going to waste this chance. If he wants to play the game, fine. But I’m going to make sure I win my own way.”
Regulus nodded in agreement. “Same here. I’ll use what he’s given me, but I’ll keep my eyes open. If he has ulterior motives, we’ll find them.”
Orion exchanged a glance with Arcturus, then nodded. “Very well. It seems the two of you are ready to step into your own futures. Just remember—trust is earned, not given. Keep that in mind as you navigate this.”
As Sirius and Regulus left the room, their heads buzzing with ideas, Arcturus raised his glass once more, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Harrison Peverell is proving to be quite the ally—or the most dangerous player we’ve ever faced. Either way, this is going to be very interesting.”
Harrison sat in his study, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating the elegant mahogany desk before him. His fingers traced the edges of the small black velvet box resting on the desk, its contents carrying more weight than even the most ancient artifacts in the Peverell vaults. Inside was the Peverell courting ring, a family heirloom that symbolized commitment, legacy, and the binding of two powerful names into one.
The ring was a masterpiece, crafted centuries ago by a Peverell ancestor. Its centerpiece was a deep green emerald, carved with the Peverell crest, and surrounded by tiny diamonds that shimmered faintly under any light. The band, made of platinum etched with runic inscriptions, glimmered with a faint magical aura. Beside the ring sat a necklace—simple but elegant—a silver chain with a pendant that bore the same crest, enchanted to signify the bond of courtship and activate the marriage contract once worn.
Harrison’s emerald eyes studied the items with quiet intensity. This was a pivotal moment. Offering these tokens to Orion Black wasn’t just a romantic gesture; it was a declaration of intent, a move that would cement their union in both the magical and political sense. Once Orion accepted and wore them, the contract would be sealed, and the Peverell and Black families would be united forever.
“Binks,” Harrison called softly, his voice calm but commanding.
With a soft pop, the house-elf appeared, bowing deeply. “Master Harrison! What does you need, sir?”
Harrison gestured to the velvet box and the necklace, his gaze steady. “Binks, I need you to deliver these to Orion Black. The ring and the necklace are symbols of my intent, and they are enchanted to activate our marriage contract once he puts them on.”
Binks’s eyes widened slightly, his ears twitching with excitement. “Master Harrison is sending the courting ring? That is most important, sir! Binks will deliver it with great care!”
Harrison nodded, his expression serious. “Good. But there’s more. If Orion accepts the ring and necklace, stay with him until he puts them on. The enchantment must be activated for the contract to take effect. Do not leave until it is done.”
Binks straightened, clutching the box and necklace with both hands. “Binks understands, Master Harrison. Binks will stay until it is complete!”
Harrison leaned back in his chair, his sharp features softening slightly. “Thank you, Binks. This is an important task. Make sure Orion understands the significance of these items. And remind him that this is not just about tradition—it’s about trust and partnership.”
The house-elf bowed deeply once more. “Yes, Master Harrison! Binks will make sure Lord Orion understands!”
With a soft pop, Binks disappeared, leaving Harrison alone in the quiet study. He exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting to the window where the evening sky stretched endlessly above the Peverell estate. This was it—the next move in a game that would determine the future of not just his family, but the Black family as well.
At Black Manor
The quiet of the evening at Black Manor was interrupted by the soft crack of Apparition as Binks appeared in the drawing room. Orion Black was seated by the fire, a book in his lap and a glass of brandy at his side. His sharp gray eyes flicked toward the house-elf, his expression calm but curious.
“Lord Orion,” Binks began, bowing deeply. “Master Harrison Peverell has sent these for you.”
The house-elf stepped forward, holding out the velvet box and the necklace with reverent care. Orion set his book aside, his brow furrowing slightly as he accepted the items.
“What is this, Binks?” Orion asked, his tone measured.
“The courting ring and necklace, sir,” Binks replied, his voice earnest. “Master Harrison says these are symbols of his intent to marry you. If you wear them, the bond will activate the marriage contract.”
Orion’s gaze shifted to the box in his hand. Slowly, he opened it, revealing the exquisite ring resting on a cushion of black velvet. The emerald caught the firelight, casting faint green reflections on the walls. His eyes lingered on the intricate craftsmanship, the runes etched into the band, and the way the Peverell crest seemed to glow faintly with ancient magic.
The necklace, though simpler, was no less significant. The silver pendant bore the same crest, its enchantments pulsing faintly under Orion’s touch.
For a moment, Orion said nothing, his mind racing as he considered the weight of what these tokens represented. This wasn’t just a proposal—it was a commitment, a binding agreement that would unite two of the most powerful families in wizarding Britain.
“Binks,” Orion said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “Did Harrison say anything else?”
“Yes, Lord Orion,” Binks replied, his large eyes gleaming. “Master Harrison says this is about trust and partnership, not just tradition. He says these gifts are a sign of his respect and his intent to build something greater with you.”
Orion’s gaze softened slightly, his fingers brushing against the ring. The gesture was bold, but it was also deeply personal. Harrison had made it clear from the beginning that he wasn’t playing games—he was playing for keeps.
“And you’re to stay until I put these on?” Orion asked, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
Binks nodded fervently. “Yes, sir! Master Harrison says the enchantment must activate, and Binks is to stay until it is done!”
Orion let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Very well, then.”
He lifted the ring from its cushion, holding it up to the light. The emerald gleamed brilliantly, its deep green surface almost hypnotic. With deliberate care, he slid the ring onto his finger. The moment it settled into place, a faint pulse of magic surged through the air, wrapping around him like an invisible thread.
Next, he took the necklace and fastened it around his neck. The silver pendant rested against his chest, its enchantments humming softly as they took hold.
Binks clapped his small hands together, his face alight with joy. “It is done, Lord Orion! The bond is sealed!”
Orion looked down at the ring on his finger, the faint warmth of its magic a constant reminder of the choice he had just made. For the first time in years, he felt a sense of certainty, of purpose. Harrison Peverell wasn’t just offering a marriage—he was offering a partnership, a future built on mutual ambition and respect.
“Tell Harrison,” Orion said, his voice steady, “that I accept. And tell him... I look forward to what comes next.”
Binks bowed deeply, his excitement evident. “Yes, Lord Orion! Binks will tell Master Harrison right away!”
With another soft pop, the house-elf disappeared, leaving Orion alone in the drawing room. He stared into the fire, his thoughts racing as he considered what this decision would mean—for himself, for his sons, and for the Black family as a whole.
Whatever lay ahead, one thing was certain: the future had just been set in motion, and there was no turning back now.