chapter one
“Do you have all of your books? And your notes?” Harry rolled his eyes at Bella as they walked down the stairs.
“What about your wand holster and your cloak?” sounded Regulus’ voice from the bottom of the stairs.
“And Cissa would kill me if I let you forget your amulet or your dress robes.” Harry huffed as Bella spoke again.
“How did I go from being an orphan to having three mums?” he muttered under his breath. Regulus snorted.
“Just wait until Sirius and Remus get their hands on you,” he quipped back, a grin playing on his lips. Harry laughed at this, a full and free laugh. As much as he griped, he had truly come to love their doting. There was a lot to be said for being wanted. They came to a halt in the now familiar foyer of Grimmauld.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you, Harry?” Bella asked. Harry offered her a soft smile, affection welling up in him for the witch.
“I’m always careful,” he replied, which earned him dry looks from the two before him. “I’ll be fine, guys. You’ve brought me up to a sixth year dueling level over a single summer. I can handle whatever Hogwarts throws at me.”
“It’s not Hogwarts I’m worried about,” Reg replied darkly. “Your Portkey will activate within the minute,” he said suddenly. “You’ll be in an alley two blocks from the station.” Harry nodded. He was hit with the sudden urge to hug them both, but before he could act on it, he felt a familiar yank behind his naval, and suddenly he was standing in a dirty London alley, his trunk behind him. From there it didn’t take him long to reach Platform 9 ¾, wondering slightly at the way none of the muggles ever saw anyone vanishing into the wall.
He took a moment to admire the large red steam train in front of him. The Hogwarts Express was, as always, a marvel. Unfortunately he was quickly shunted along by the crowd at which point he bumped into a familiar blond ponce.
“Is your eyesight really that dreadful, Potter?” Malfoy demanded indignantly. “Watch where you’re going.”
“Apologies, Heir Malfoy,” he said reflexively, although still biting back an eyeroll. This seemed to bring Malfoy up short, and Harry chanced a glance up at Cissa, who was standing behind her son along with her husband. There was the barest hint of a smirk on her face. Mischievousness sparking within him, he turned fully to face them. “Well met, Lord and Lady Malfoy,” he said, dipping into a shallow bow. His eyes landed on Lucius as he rose, and his face was perfectly impassive. Harry had to admit, he was good. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy Jr.’s eyes widen fractionally. They widened even further when Harry gently grabbed ahold of Cissa’s outstretched hand, ghosting his lips across her knuckles. His eyes flicked back to Lucius. His face still betrayed nothing, so Harry turned his attention back to Draco. It was only then that he seemed to get his bearings.
“Accepted, Heir Potter,” he said. Harry’s smirk widened.
“Potter-Black.”
“Pardon?”
“My title is Heir Potter-Black.” This time, Harry noted with some satisfaction, Lucius’s mask did slip every so slightly, probably because he had expected Draco to get the heir title.
“Heir Potter-Black,” Draco repeated. Harry nodded easily, offering a genuine smile. He felt a small amount of affection for the boy in front of him by proxy of his affection for Cissa.
“Harry, if you prefer,” he offered, holding out a hand. “You’ll soon find out some wixen are better than others, Malfoy. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there,” Harry said with a wink. It was a risky move, but the flush that covered Malfoy’s face made it worth it. Slowly, as though afraid the hand would be pulled away suddenly, Draco took it and shook.
“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,” he replied, a small smirk blooming over his face. Harry grinned. “My friends call me ‘Draco’, Harry.”
“I’ve got to find the others, but it’s been a pleasure,” he paused for dramatic effect in a way that would have Reggie and Bella cackling, “Draco.” Draco looked extremely wrong-footed, so Harry took pity on him and turned to the adults. “Good morning, Lord and Lady Malfoy,” Harry offered to Draco’s parents before whirling around and setting off for the train. As soon as he found Ron and Hermione, he ducked into their compartment and gave in to the laughing fit that had been threatening to overtake him the entire interaction.
“Harry?” Ron said in a hushed voice. Harry ran a hand across his face, wiping honest tears from his cheeks before looking up.
“Hey, guys,” he said as his eyes fell on Ron and Hermione. It was only then that he noticed the other figure, a sleeping man in their compartment. “Who’s our guest?” Hermione gave him an odd look but answered.
“Professor R.J. Lupin.” It was only the months in the House of Black that kept him from gaping. He had not expected to be confronted with Moony so quickly, and as their defense professor to boot. Dumbledore probably wanted him close because of Sirius, Harry mused. He nodded to Hermione.
“How was Egypt?” he asked Ron suddenly. This set his mate off on a tangent about Bill and tombs and the twins almost locking Percy into a pyramid. All the while, Harry felt Hermione’s eyes on him. He bit back a groan. How could she possibly already know something was up? She was a bloody menace, that’s how. Harry felt affection for her well up in him even so. It was going to be a challenge not to tell them both everything right away. Bella, Cissa, and Reggie had left it up to his discretion when to bring them onboard, but he wanted to wait until he had concrete evidence that was not from a dead man, a Death Eater, or the mother of their schoolyard enemy.
“Did anything interesting happen to you this summer, Harry?” Hermione’s voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he almost laughed at the question. Instead, he told them the one thing he could.
“I think I accidentally became political allies and tentative friends with Draco Malfoy.” Hermione stared blankly at him for a moment before a calculation expression bloomed on her face. Ron opened his mouth, most likely to yell, cast his eyes to Moony, and took a deep breath.
“You did what?” he whisper-shouted instead. Harry grinned sheepishly, his hand coming up to brush through his hair like he had seen his father do a hundred times in the pensive.
“It’s like, Wizenagamot stuff, you know?” Hermione’s face cleared at this, and she nodded. Ron looked at him like he had sprouted a second head.
“You have a title?” he asked, somewhat shocked.
“Not exactly.” Hermione cocked her head in silent question. “I have two,” he muttered.
“Didn’t catch that, mate.”
“I have two,” he repeated louder, voice still pitched low to avoid waking their sleeping professor. Ron’s eyes widened. “Sirius Black, the previous Lord Black, is my godfather, and he named me as his heir.”
“Merlin and Morgana both,” Ron whispered. “Are we starting a revolution?” he demanded. It was said partially in jest, but the steel in his voice took Harry aback. He hadn’t been expecting Ron to hop on the bandwagon so quickly. Then again, politics wasn’t so different from chess, and Ron was the best and most passionate chess player Harry had ever seen. He shrugged in answer to Ron’s question before pulling a book from his pocket. It was the worn copy of Pureblood Power that Regulus had given him. He held it out to Ron.
“The title is misleading,” he prefaced, seeing the looks on his friends’ faces. “There is no blatant bigotry in this book. It’s just dated in the same way that a lot of literature is.” He turned to Hermione. “Think racism and sexism in older muggle literature.” She nodded slowly. “A lot of the material I’ve found on politics is like that. I have some more in my trunk that are all yours when we get to school, Mi.” Her eyes lit up at this, and she smiled. Harry didn’t mention that one of those was a handwritten journal from his personal research project on magic and genetics.
From there they descended into silence. Ron, surprisingly enough, immediately started reading the book Harry had given him. Hermione turned back to her own book, so Harry pulled out his Genetics Handbook and started where he left off the night before. They continued this way for over an hour until, in a turn of events Harry had not been expecting, they were interrupted by Draco. He had really thought that the blond would avoid him at least until tomorrow. What Harry found even more surprising was that he was alone, Crabbe and Goyle’s usual hulking forms nowhere to be seen. Harry looked up from his book and offered a smile.
“Draco,” he said pleasantly. “Nice to see you again. Wouldn’t be a proper ride to Hogwarts if you didn’t stop by.” Draco smiled back, and it was genuine. Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen smile lines like these at the corners of his now-familiar Black eyes. Maybe it was the inbreeding, but all of the Black family had the same blue-gray eyes.
“I just wanted to let you know that if you need help with anything you missed growing up with muggles, I’d be happy to help.” There was a pregnant pause in which he shuffled nervously. Harry quirked an inquisitive eyebrow, urging him to speak. “The same offer is extended to you, Granger, if you’re interested.” And wasn’t that a surprise? Hermione seemed, for perhaps the first time since Harry had met her, at a loss for words.
“Much appreciated, Draco,” he said, saving her from having to formulate a response. Considering all that Cissa had taught him, he wasn’t sure there was much point, but if Hermione expressed an interest, he would go for her sake. Not wanting Moony to wake, the full had been only a few days ago, Harry tried to find a polite way to tell Draco to sod off. Before he could, the train suddenly began to slow.
“We can’t possibly be there yet,” Hermione said. Harry had to agree. There was no way they were even in Scotland, much less Hogsmeade. When the lights suddenly went out, Harry felt Draco sit quickly on the seat beside him. “Lumos.” Her wand did not ignite. Instead, the window of the compartment began to frost over. Fearing the worst, knowing that only one thing could cause this kind of intense darkness and cold, Harry turned to Moony.
“Professor Lupin,” he called. Before he could say anything else, the man was on his feet.
“Quiet.” Harry had the urge to tell him that nobody had been talking, but he thought better of it. Instead, he felt around for the frogs that he had gotten from the trolley moments before. He broke one in half, whispering for Ron and Hermione to take it. He then split one between himself and Draco. No sooner had they finished it, the door to the compartment slid open, and the space was filled with air so very frigid that it seemed to create a vacuum that sucked all the air from his lungs. Harry took a deep breath, then another, ignoring Moony’s words. He focused on his Occlumency shields. He didn’t doubt that he would not like to find out what memory the dementor would drudge up from his twisted childhood. He didn’t come back to himself until he felt Draco bump his shoulder. He started, opening his eyes.
“Where did Professor Lupin go?” he asked immediately. Hermione gave him an odd look.
“He went to talk to the conductor and check on other compartments.” Clearly he had said as much before leaving. Harry nodded sheepishly.
“I was kind of out of it. I had to keep the damn thing out of my head.”
The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Draco stood and left at some point, mumbling half-hearted farewells. They all went back to their respective books, although Harry could not focus on the words before him. He suspected Ron was the same, as the redhead had not turned a page in nearly ten minutes. When they finally reached Hogwarts, they climbed into a carriage with Ginny and a little blonde from Ravenclaw who was vaguely familiar to Harry. The Welcome Feast was a subdued affair, the usual excitement seemingly having been sucked away by the dementor encounter. Harry did his best to clap for the newly sorted first years, but his heart just wasn’t in it. Neither, he could tell, was anyone else’s. He only truly managed to pull himself together long enough to clap for Moony.
When the food finally appeared, Harry filled his plate, for the first Welcome Feast of his Hogwarts career, with a little bit of just about everything. Hermione, noticing this, shot him an odd look. He shrugged, and she offered him a small smile. Usually upon coming back to school, his body was used to a diet of stale bread and a single can of soup a day. This summer, he had spent most of his time with Bella and Reg, who were determined to help correct his malnutrition. This meant that he didn’t have to work his way up to eating full meals this year, which was a nice change of pace.
As Harry ate, he listened. Ron and Hermione were bickering about Ron’s table manners, or lack thereof. Further down the table, Neville was chatting with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Interesting. Harry hadn’t known they were friends. Beside Neville, a very downtrodden Ginny sat, poking at her plate. Harry made a mental note to check on her. He wondered if she had seen a mind healer over the summer. Being possessed by a young dark lord had to do damage to a young girl’s psyche.
After spending a few more minutes observing, Harry interrupted Ron and Hermione, drawing them into conversation about their electives. This carried them through to the end of the feast, at which point they followed a prefect up to the tower. Harry sighed contentedly when he finally flopped down onto his bed, and a little smirk wormed its way onto his face even as he closed his eyes. Let the games begin.