The Will of Sirius Black

Summer had been one of Harry’s least favorite times of the year. It was not surprising when he was isolated from his friends, where he could not even do magic. Surrounded by ruthless tormenting about his life, about how he was nothing more than a no-good freak, and the bruising touches from his loving uncle and cousin because of his so-called freakishness. An endless list of chores to be done under the sweltering sun was the only thing that kept Harry busy throughout the summer. His trunk was locked away with his homework that he would scramble to do on the train under Hermione’s berating, as Harry had deliberately not done his homework. “Honestly, you have to be more responsible, Harry!” If only Hermione had known just how responsible Harry was.

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. . .

Not only was Harry meant to be responsible for the entirety of the wizarding world - some asinine believe that a child, an orphan who had his parents ripped from him before he could even walk properly, was meant to be the so-called savior of the wizarding world - but Harry was also responsible for the death of his godfather.

The loss of Sirius had been a blow to Harry that others had not understood fully. Hermione had grumbled about Harry’s lack of care for her and Ron’s injuries, the dark-haired boy numbly staring at the wall, mourning the loss of his last family member, instead of entertaining either’s whining. They did not understand how much guilt that Harry felt, how he took responsibility for Sirius’ death. If he had not taken them to the Department of Mysteries, then Sirius would still be alive. No one would have been injured in the first place, meaning no whining from anyone and no mounting guilt for his rash decision. 

He would have loved for Sirius to take ten potions a day or to have scars covering his arms, then to be lying dead in the void that is the Veil in the Death Chamber, not even sure if he could fully move on or if Sirius’ soul remained locked within the Veil with all the other souls. Harry was not sure if he wanted to know the truth about where Sirius was.

Yet Hermione and Ron could not understand what Harry was feeling. Ron had even commented along the lines of: “You gotta move on, Mate.” As if Sirius had not just died the day before, as if Harry did not look like death himself. He even had the nerve to become upset with Harry when the younger boy got upset with his insensitive words. Hermione had chastised Harry for not worrying about his O.W.L.S, about him not eating, about him holding on “To a man you barely even knew, Harry.” If there was one thing that Harry did that she did not like, he heard about it. One could say this behavior was from a place of concern for Harry after such a horrible situation, but if that was true, would they not have written to him to ensure he was okay?

To make matters worse, Harry’s mourning had been interrupted by a summons to Dumbledore’s office. Where the man who had ignored him all year long, who had not listened to any of Harry’s worries, dropped even more responsibility on the young boy. A prophecy. That Harry would need to be the one to kill Voldemort and that no one else would be able to.

“Only you Harry have the power,” Dumbledore’s words echoed in his dreams, telling the fifteen-year-old who had lost everything in the prior days, who had been possessed by Voldemort because he was weak, that only he had the power to defeat the megalomaniac. And Harry rightfully destroyed his office because why had Dumbledore kept this from him?

Had Harry known that the two had a connection, that Voldemort could send him fabrication visions to lure Harry out of Hogwarts, then Sirius would be alive. It was all avoidable. No one would have gotten hurt or killed had Dumbledore not tried his stupid protection measures that did nothing but isolate Harry and make him feel crazy or like a failure when he did not manage to block his mind under Snape’s violent tutelage.

Speaking of Dumbledore’s protective measures.

Harry watched as Mundungus Fletcher took over Professor Moody’s post, the Auror giving the other Order member a dirty scowl before apparating away. Fletcher was the only Order member who had the shortest rotation, none of the other members trusting the drunk to protect Harry for too long. And from the stumbling the man did before dropping back against a bush and letting his eyes close, Harry supposed they were right. Fletcher had not even used the disillusionment charm before he seemingly passed out. What an idiot. Hopefully, the Dursleys would not look out back and see the Order member passed out in their bushes. Harry wondered if he went out and let the other know he could see him, would he spend a few minutes talking with him and tell him what was happening in the world outside of the four walls that made up his bedroom.

This summer was very reminiscent of the previous one with how no one wrote to him, leaving him to the loving hands of the Dursleys. The Order was even thoughtful enough to tell Petunia and Vernon that Harry’s Godfather - one of the only ones who had threatened the Dursleys for their treatment of him - had passed away and that it would be good if they let him mourn in peace. Harry’s peace came in the form of his uncle kicking him in his ribs the second they entered Number Four Privet Drive. One would think that the Order would have learned something about not leaving Harry to his own devices.

Tap…Tap…Tap

Harry startled at the tapping noise, flinching back from the window. A barn owl was outside on the ledge, waiting for him to open the window to come in. With Hedwig hooting in curiosity behind him, Harry quickly opened the window to let the owl in, eyeing the letter tied to its leg.

“Come here, boy,” he whispered, hoping his family had not heard him open the window. They barely had tolerated Hedwig, his uncle even attempting to set her free. Granted, Hedwig kept coming back. He had told her to be quiet so his family would not know she was still here. The Dursleys discovering another owl in his room would not be good at all. 

“Are you hungry?” The barn owl hooted once, seemingly understanding the situation that he needed to be quiet currently. Harry smiled gently at the owl, taking some of Hedwig’s treats and placing them down for him while unraveling the twine from his leg to detach the letter.

His eyebrows furrowed at the Gringotts seal on the letter, carefully breaking the wax and pulling the letter out. Why would Gringotts be writing to him? A quill fell out with the letter, Harry placing it to the side for when he finished with the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

This is a formal request of your appearance at Gringotts Wizarding Bank at 8:00 AM Tuesday, July Twenty-third for the official last will and testament reading of Sirius Orion Black. We attempted to contact you through your magical guardian, who declined on your behalf. However, it is conditioned in Lord Black’s will that you must be present for the will to be read. Please use the provided port key to transport to The Leaky Cauldron at the allotted time, if you are available. If you are not available on the morning of the fourth, please write back with a time that you are available so Lord Black's will may be read.

May your vault overflow with gold,

Nurlus

Black Family Account Manager.

His heart dropped in his stomach as he re-read that ink on the parchment. Sirius’ will was to be read tomorrow and he had required Harry to be present before it could be heard. Why was this his first time hearing about this? He did not even know that Sirius had a will. Who was this magical guardian who had attempted to keep him from the Sirius' will hearing? Harry liked to believe himself to be an optimist but this situation smelled of Dumbledore’s manipulations and he would need to get to the bottom of it.

“You can rest here until you are ready to go,” he told the owl, giving a few smell scratches with his finger. The owl hooted once more, nuzzling Harry’s finger before hopping across the desk to go check out Hedwig in her cage. Harry smiled a sad little smile that did not come easily after losing Sirius. The pain did not lessen each day, proving just how much Harry had loved Sirius and missed him, but it did become more manageable. He had fewer nightmares of the light leaving his godfather’s eyes and did not feel the need to throw up at the mere echo of Bellatrix Lestrange’s taunting in his head. It would get easier; that is what he would remind himself each day when he woke up in a world that Sirius Black no longer was a part of.

“Boy!”

The raven-haired boy’s thoughts were interrupted by the angered yell from below, loud enough to shake the foundations of the house.

“Get your ass down here!” Harry sighed softly, casting a longing look at the two owls on his desk. Oh, what he would give to be able to fly free like them. Instead, he tucked the letter under his pillow and headed out of his room, ready to face whatever his uncle was angered about today. With the looming future ahead of him and the growing burden placed on his shoulders, there would be quite some time before Harry could ever be free.

Gringotts Wizarding Bank was just as magnificent as Harry remembered when he first entered the Wizarding World. The white marble glittered in the early morning light, Harry able to stop and look upon the towering building with the lack of bustle of Diagon Alley so early in the morning. It would seem that mornings in July, with no classes in the minds of Hogwarts students, allowed for a much calmer shopping experience.

Harry glanced down at the attire that he had chosen to wear. He had attempted to be a little more wizard-like in his outfit, wearing a pair of his Hogwarts slacks with a simple button-up shirt that had belonged to Dudley, and after so many years of washing, it had shrunk enough to fit Harry. Although, it was still a little big on the shoulders. His shoes were scuffed as well, and he felt his cheeks heat at what Sirius would think of his attire. Sure, the man had never really cared for being proper like his darling mother attempted to hex into him, but Harry still felt it was wrong not to dress up, but his clothes were lacking.

Perhaps a shopping trip would be ideal. It would do some good to have clothes that fit and did not look like a whale had worn them once upon a time. Merlin, Harry was almost sixteen and he had not even bought new Hogwarts robes, allowing Molly to resize them for him. Yes, a shopping trip would be ideal. Hopefully, his trust vault had enough for some new clothes.

Walking into the lavish bank, Harry walked straight towards the teller in the middle. Becoming the object of everyone’s stares last year, Harry had learned to not stare at others. Eleven-year-old Harry had not been ready to see Goblins that day, but now he knew better. Approaching the teller, the raven-haired boy cleared his throat, hoping he appeared at least a little bit professional. He had arrived thirty minutes early in hopes of visiting his vault before the will reading. 

“May I help you, sir?” The goblin asked, looking up from the forms he was filling out and eyeing Harry.

“I - Hello, I’m here for Sirius Black’s will reading. I was also hoping to visit my vault,” He cursed himself silently for stuttering but giving the Goblin an awkward, tight-lipped smile. The Goblin looked him up and down for a second, eyes lingering at Harry’s forehead. The Gryffindor shuffled on his feet, resisting the urge to fidget with his hands.

“Name?”

“Harry Potter,”

The Goblin nodded and leaned over to whisper to another Goblin, the helper Goblin rushing off to follow whatever the teller Goblin had asked of him.

“Welcome, Mr. Potter. Due to the sensitive information of Lord Black’s will, the family account manager Nurlus will need to confirm your identity.” Harry nodded in understanding. If Sirius required his presence, it would make sense that the Goblins would want to ensure that he was the correct person.

The helper Goblin returned with another Goblin that Harry had never seen before. This Goblin was bald, his round ears sticking out from his head in the characteristic Goblin fashion. He had a pair of wiry glasses on his face, much like Harry's own, though the Goblin has oval-shaped frames, not round like Harry’s. He was dressed smartly like the other goblins, in his tailored pants, prim white shirt with a simple vest buttoned over top of it. Harry’s face heated when he saw that even the Goblin did not have scuffed-up shoes as he did. The most notable addition to his outfit was the crest sewn into his left breast, right over his pocket. Harry had seen that crest in Grimmauld Place, the sound of Sirius telling him about his family playing in his head as he read the small writing that boasted who this Goblin was. With Toujours Pur sewn into the patch of the crest, this Goblin could be none other than Nurlus.

“Mr. Potter, it is good to meet you,” Nurlus reached up to shake the teen’s hand, Harry hurried shaking the claw that belonged to the Goblin.

“A pleasure to meet you as well Mr. Nurlus, I hear you have a little test for me?” Harry could not quell the nerves that suddenly appeared. This Goblin had known Sirius and whatever Harry did would reflect on his late Godfather. He would not sully Sirius’ name any more than he had already had. Curse his scuffed shoes.

 “Yes, it is customary. May we take this to my office?” Harry nodded his head once more and began to follow Nurlus further in the bank. Before they could leave the main chamber, however, he remembered the sign-off that Nurlus had written in his letter. It would be improper not to say farewell. He turned on his heel to look back at the teller Goblin and shot him a small smile.

“May your vault overflow with gold!” He bowed his head slightly after he spoke. He took in the bewildered looks of all the Goblins in the hall, the furious sound of pens and coins being counted coming to a pause so they could look at the young wizard. Harry’s smile turned awkward once more, dipping his head again before rushing to turn on his heel and follow Nurlus once more. Please do not let him have started a war with the Goblins.

“That farewell is very. . . uncommon for wizards, Mr. Potter.” Nurlus commented once they were in the privacy of his office.

“Was it not proper? My apologies! I saw the sign-off in your letter and figured it was the traditional farewell,” Harry worried, wringing his hands in front of him. He did not want to offend anyone.

“On the contrary, Mr. Potter. It is a pleasant surprise. Most wizards do not pay attention to Goblin culture, too worried about their own business.” Nurlus informed, flashing his sharp teeth in the Goblin equivalent of a smile at Harry. The teen nodded at the reassurance, it was good to know that he was not going to be fighting off the entirety of the Goblin Nation. “Now let us get down to business.”

Nurlus pulled out a simple piece of parchment and a small silver dagger. If Harry had not been in the wizarding world for the last five years, he would have thought it was a simple letter opener. Not something that would prick his finger.

“Please cut your palm and let a few drops fall onto the parchment,” Nurlus instructed and Harry nodded, shifting forward to take the dagger and slice his palm with a soft hiss. Being cut reminded him of that wretched night in the graveyard, but Harry swallowed his fear since it was necessary for the Goblin. Harry watched as his blood dripped on the parchment, pulling it back once five drops had fallen on the page. He returned the dagger to Nurlus, letting out a surprised noise when his hand sealed back up, rubbing his thumb over his palm in wonderment. Magic would never cease to amaze him.

Harry took his seat once more, waiting for the parchment to be filled out. It only took a few seconds of the parchment to begin to fill out, Harry was curious about what information these tests would reveal, but Nurlus picked the parchment up before he could get a good look at what was written. He had only caught a glimpse of his name and his father’s. Nurlus hummed for a second before nodding his head and placing the parchment face down on the opposite side of his desk.

“Everything is in order, Mr. Potter. We will have the reading today.”

Harry glanced at the clock on the wall, balking at the time on the wall. It was nearly eight, they should go or they would be late. Seeing Harry’s gaze, Nurlus exposed his jagged teeth once more and hummed.

“Do not worry about the time, Mr. Potter. We had you come in earlier than the others as we have some things we needed to settle first. The reading will not take place until ten.” Harry blanched at being caught worrying but nodded his head gratefully. He did not know what business needed to be taken care of in the next two hours, but the Goblins had been thoughtful enough to plan for whatever they needed to do. 

“Lord Black wanted me to give you something private before the others showed up.” Nurlus opened his desk drawer and pulled out an envelope that had Harry’s name scrawled out in the familiar handwriting of his late godfather. The teen’s stomach flipped in anticipation, eying the envelope with a certain hunger, the most expressive he had been since before the Department of Mysteries. This was the last letter he would ever get from Sirius; he needed it in his hands already. Nurlus walked around the desk and handed the envelope to Harry, giving him a soft pat on his knee.

Harry gave him a shaky half-smile, eyes focusing on the letter. The ink was dry as was to be expected, but he still traced his fingers over Sirius’ proper loops. He could imagine the Black brothers forced to learn their cursive letters, messes of curly black hair bend over parchment as they perfected the easy curls to their letters. He could imagine the grown Sirius attempting to write again after Azkaban, his fingers re-learning how to hold a quill and letters messy in an un-Pureblood manner. Sirius had come a long way since his time in Azkaban. Though he would never get to fully recover into the man he once was.

The teen wiped the tears from his eyes when his vision became blurry. He was already crying and he had not even broken the seal on the letter yet. Get it together, Harry. His fingers trembled as he broke the purple seal, careful not to destroy the crest. He wanted to preserve the letter as best as he could. He pulled out the parchment inside, bringing it up so he could read the same curly letters that Sirius had been practicing on perfecting. His first attempt to wipe his tears was in vain, as the tears only began to fall again as he read Sirius’ words.

My Dearest Prongslet,

If you are reading this, I must no longer be with you, and I am sorry for leaving your side. I promised James that I would always stand by your side, but my promise has obviously been broken. I would like to say that my death is not your fault, Harry. I do not know how I passed, I am not a seer, but I must imagine with what is being whispered about that it had something to do with Voldemort, meaning you are not far behind. I forgive you if you happened to be involved in my death somehow. The blame rests on who killed me. I would gladly die to protect you, Harry, which is what I am sure I was doing until the very end. My Prongslet, you should be more careful for my sanity. You have to listen to me, I am dead, it is my last request for you. Stay safe and happy, that is all I have ever wanted for you.

Though I must be honest with you, Harry. My last request and forgiving you are not the only reasons for this letter. I have not always been truthful with you, for which I apologize. You deserve the truth, especially from me. I beg that you please finish reading my words before you decide if you believe them or not. I am sure Nurlus can provide validity to this letter, but it is ultimately up to you whether you decide to accept my words. I supposed I have stalled enough? Let an old man ramble, Harry. I will save you from the anticipation before you worry yourself into a grave.

Lily Evans was not your mother. She was our close friend and a willing participant in your life, but she did not birth you. That title belongs to me. I am your father, my dear Prongslet. The blood that runs through your veins is mine and James’. It must have caused a shock to you and I dearly hope you have not burned this letter. I have left you a journal in my vault that will tell you all of the specifics you could ever want. From our time in Hogwarts, falling in love, finding out I was pregnant with you, my time in Azkaban, all of it is in there.

I want you to know, I loved you very much, Harry. There were very few people who I trusted back then, but when you clasped my finger and looked at me with my own eyes, I have never forgotten the feeling of love from that day. You did not know me and yet you loved me with all of your heart. And I loved you with all of mine. So please know that the decision not to tell you was not deliberate. I longed every day to embrace you and call you my son, to tell you of how James and I had fallen in love. My heart grew heavier each day that you did not know. But it was not safe, my dear Prongslet.

Before I was placed in Azkaban, Albus Dumbledore attempted to use a memory charm on me so I would forget all about you and James. I was meant to believe that you were Lily’s son and that I was merely James’ friend. Only he did not know that a memory charm of that caliber requires constant re-casting to maintain. Within three years, it was completely broken and I had to hide my memories of you and James to keep them happy, safe from the dementors. He attempted to cast another memory charm after your third year, but I was able to avoid it. It would seem that being a Pureblood has its perks with enchanted items. I urge you to explore the Black Family vaults and search for an accessory to protect you from compulsions and tricks. I do not trust Albus Dumbledore or any of these idiots in the Order. Even Remus has been blindly following Albus these days, I worry.

This is not a subject for this letter; I do not mean to cause you concern. I have only ever wanted you to be happy and safe, Prongslet. And in my death, I have secured that for you. I have asked my cousin Andromeda to take you in, to teach you how to be the Pureblood you are. I have also arranged a marriage contract for you. It is expected of heirs to noble houses to be in a marriage contract. I had escaped mine, but with the meddling in your life, I hope that your pairing would bring you safety. I do this because I love you, Prongslet. I want to make sure that these people cannot hurt you anymore. James and I had arranged this contract since you were a year old; I have recently checked that it still holds.

I have used a lot of parchment in this single letter; I am sure you are muttering about me rambling by now. Your father would do the same when I would go off on tangents. You remind me so much of him, sweetheart. The Potter looks are very dominant, but you did manage to sneak the Black Family eyes. I have one more final thing I would like to set forth with this letter. I do not wish to announce as such in the will, allowing you the opportunity to share the news with who you choose.

I, Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House Black, of sound body and mind, hereby name Harry Regulus Potter-Black as my heir and the next Lord of the Ancient and Noble House Black upon his maturity. So mote be it.

Magic swirled in the air around Harry, causing him to look up from the letter for the first time since he started reading, seeing that a jewelry case now rested on Nurlus’ desk, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Even in his death, Sirius was full of surprises. His eyes dipped back down to the letter to finish it.

You are my heir now officially, I have claimed you for the House Black and Nurlus will have a ring for you. You now fall under my family name and whatever is stated in my will is the law. To go against it will cause an uprising in the Pureblood community. I imagine there will already be a fuss to be had when the Wizarding World learns you are my son. Be careful of who flocks to you when your status is revealed, Prongslet. People chase fortune as much as glory.

I love you so dearly, Harry. Please know that every day with you was a blessing and that I have been privileged enough to be your father. While I have hated to leave you, I hope I am with James now in the afterlife, reunited finally after fifteen long years. I wished I could see you grow into a fine young man Harry, it will be my biggest regret not getting to see you grow and become the person you were always meant to be. But you were destined for great things, love. No silly prophecy will stand in the way of who you were meant to be.

Forever and Always,

Sirius Orion Black Your Father

Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black

He had long since stopped trying to wipe the tears off his face, allowing them to flow down the curves of his cheeks and the dip of his chin, dripping down onto the parchment a few times before Harry jerked the paper away so his tears did not ruin the ink. This letter is all he had from Sirius - his father, oh how weird that felt in his head to say. He longed for more, more of a reason why Sirius never told him about being his father. There was a small part of Harry that understood Siri- his father’s decision to not tell him. He had said it was not safe that Dumbledore had attempted to erase his memories again. If Dumbledore had not even thought about ruining his father’s life the first time around, who could have known what the Headmaster would do if Harry had known the truth about his family.

“C-can I see the parchment?” His voice sounded watery, nose clogged with snot from crying though Nurlus did not seem to mind. Harry was now a part of the Black Family; he did not think that Nurlus would mind Harry crying over the parent that he lost before he ever truly had. First, it had been James and Lily, and now Sirius, who else was Harry going to lose? Nurlus wordless handed over the parchment to Harry, the teen carefully setting the letter down as if it would disappear to read the words that had appeared after his blood covered the sheet.

Name: Harry Regulus Potter-Black

Blood Status: Pureblood

Parents: James Abraham Potter-Black and Sirius Orion Potter-Black

Godparents: Lily June Evans and Remus John Lupin

Betrothed to: Blaise Lucien Zabini (Signed August 3rd, 1981), Ginevra Molly Weasley (Signed September 1st, 1992. Incomplete and rejected by Black Family Account Manager. See contract for more details).

Vaults: 142

There was more information on the parchment, but Harry had read the relevant information, his stomach flipping once more seeing two names under betrothed. He was not expecting Blaise Zabini to be listed there, assuming Sirius would have gone with a lighter Pureblood family, but it would seem that his fathers were full of surprises. He tried to recall what he knew of the Slytherin but came up empty-handed. He hung around Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson frequently, but he was overall quiet and kept to himself, never one to outright torment the younger students like Malfoy and Parkinson. 

He could recall seeing him in the library with Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott during their fourth year when Harry was looking for a solution to the lake task. But he knew nothing else about his supposed betrothed. He would need to learn more about the Zabini Family. Harry mentally added it to the ever-growing list in his head of things that needed to be done.

Though the most worrying factor was Ginny’s name on the paper. His heart had skipped a beat when he read it, though he released a relieved breath when he read that Nurlus had denied the marriage contract, most likely because of his already pre-existing one with Zabini. Had Ginny known that they had a marriage contract made up between them? Sure he knew of the girl’s crush on him, but he had thought she had gotten over it last year when he had gone on the date with Cho Chang. He would need to ask Ginny about it.

“Do you have the marriage contracts on hand, Mr. Nurlus?” Harry had gotten control of his voice, though his nose was still stuffed up.

“Yes, Mr. Potter-Black.”

“Harry will do; I have a feeling we are going to be rather close in the coming years.” Nurlus’ face morphed into shock before a smile returned to his face, almost shy.

“Then I insist that you call me, Nurlus. No use for fancy titles.” Harry nodded at the words, smiling shyly as well and reaching forward to take the two parchments from Nurlus. The top was his marriage contract to Zabini, his cheeks heating up when he read some of the conditions that his fathers and Zabini’s father had insisted on. At least three children must be sired so the houses of Black, Potter, and Zabini may all have an heir. He barely knew Zabini and thinking of having children with him made Harry shift uncomfortably. He ignored the other terms for right now, focusing on his failed one with Ginny. He was stunned by the signatures there.

Dumbledore and Molly Weasley had signed the contract for them as their representatives. The scrawl of Ginny’s handwriting under Molly's is not something that Harry had expected. He gulped as he looked down at the date of the signature. June 18th. The same day that Sirius had died. Harry felt sick to his stomach, hands trembling as he read the conditions. He was not sure if the shaking was from anger or fear for what would have happened if Nurlus had not denied the contract.

The conditions were ridiculous. In short, Ginny would be Lady Potter and own everything once they were married. She would be the controller of his bank accounts, his estates, everything. He would not even own his name; it would be all hers. His eyes dipped to the bottom to read Nurlus’ chicken-scratch notes.

Mr. Potter-Black did not sign the contract upon turning fifteen as per tradition. The contract was signed by a party who is not of the age of fifteen yet. Mr. Potter-Black has a marriage contract already made in his name, with the proper names and signatures in place. This contract is for Harry James Potter, who does not exist.

His head shot up in surprise, eyes wide in fear.

“I did not sign my other contract when I turned fifteen!” He exclaimed, focusing back on his contract with Zabini. Zabini’s signature rested under his mother’s, signed October 9^th, 1994. Probably on his birthday as Nurlus’ notes mentioned it being a tradition.

“It is quite alright, Harry. Lady Zabini knows that you were not aware of your parental status. I believe that Lord Black has even reached out to her on your fifteenth birthday to explain his reasoning for not telling you. If you still sign it at fifteen, it will hold, another reason we were insistent on having you come in before your sixteenth birthday. The contract would have needed to be redrawn and it would be a little hard without Lord Black’s signature on the new contract.” Nurlus explained, calming the teen down.

Harry nodded his head and looked for a quill on the Goblin’s desk, thanking him quietly when he handed him one. The raven-haired teen signed his signature under his father’s, swallowing the lump in his throat as he dated his signature. The writing on the page glowed gold for a second before settling back for the black ink it was drawn in.

“Your contract is finalized, the Zabini family will be informed that you signed the contract.” Harry bit his lip, nerves returning. That would mean that the next time he saw Zabini the other would know that he was aware of the marriage contract. A contract that the Slytherin himself seemed to know about all of his childhood while Harry had been left in the dark. He was not jealous or angry, but rather. . . bothered that everyone had seemed to know things that they kept from him. He would have to talk to Zabini and ensure he did not hide anything else for him. After the prophecy and his parental reveal, Harry was tired of secrets.

“One more thing we must do and I will allow you to go and visit your vaults before the reading begins.” Nurlus grabbed the small jewelry case and carefully opened it, revealing a simple ring inside. It had the Black Family sigil in the middle with two emerald gems on the band on either side of the sigil. The ring itself was black and looked as eccentric as the Black Family that Sirius had told him about.

“This is the Black Family Heir ring. Once it is on your finger, if it accepts you, your title will become Heir Potter-Black,”

“Why did my dad take the name Potter-Black if Sirius was the. . . bearer?” His ears burned, but he had been curious about it. Hell, he was curious about a lot of things.

“The Potter name is old, but the Black name is older and holds more power. So despite Lord Black being the bearer in the relationship, it would make more sense for you to go by your most powerful name. In terms of your heir, ideally the first will be named the Black Heir, then Zabini, and last a Potter. But you may have to converse with Lady Zabini on what she wishes for her son.”

Nurlus held the ring out to Harry and the other took it carefully between his thumb and index finger, the metal warm to his touch. It was stunning up close and had a sense of pride settling in Harry’s chest. Sirius, his father, had left this ring for him and had thought him worthy of it.

“Which finger does it go on?”

“Your right ring finger, your engagement ring with rest on your left ring finger.”

Harry nodded and quickly slipped the band on his finger, watching as it resized to fit him until it rested snugly against his hand. The metal warmed almost unbearably, testing his magic from what Harry could tell, before settling down on his finger, leaving behind a pleasant warmth.

“Congratulations, Harry. The ring has accepted you as Heir Potter-Black. The ring does have some protections on it, an anti-compulsion, anti-lying detector on it.” Harry nodded again, staring at the ring on his finger. It felt at home there. Like it was always supposed to be there. “The matter of the Potter Heir Ring can be handled later with the Potter Manager, Griphook; I would like to give you as much time as you can have in the vaults. Do you have any more concerns to bring up before the hearing?”

“Are you able to remove any glamour on me so I can look like my fathers?” Harry’s voice revealed just how young he was, uncertainty laced in his voice as he refused to look at the Goblin.

“I figured you would ask as much, I had our healer prepare this for you before your arrival,” he pulled out a potion’s vial, the vibrant violet color drawing Harry’s attention. “Drink it and it will remove any glamour, no matter how strong.” Harry wasted no time taking the vial and downing it in one go, surprised when it did not have a foul taste like Snape’s did. He did not feel any physical changes to his person, but when Nurlus conjured a mirror, he guessed it must have worked.

Sirius had been right that he took after James. He still has his looks from before, the only difference being his hair had darkened to match Sirius’ inky locks, less brown like he had seen from James in the Mirror of Erised. His eyes changed as well. Gone were Lily Evans’ green eyes, they were replaced with grey irises, that swirled much like Sirius’ had. Like Bellatrix’s eyes. He shuddered at the thought and looked away from the mirror. He still had the trademark Potter bird nest of hair, the gene too strong to avoid apparently. Harry could not help the small smile, glad that he looked like James still.

“If that is all for right now, Harry, I will allow you to go to your vaults and I will see you again at the reading.” Nurlus handed Harry a list of his vaults and gave Harry another one of his toothy grins.

“Thank you for all of your help, Nurlus. I shall see you later,” Harry took the list, taking note of which one was Sirius’ vault. “May your vault overflow with gold,” he hummed as he stood up, smiling as Nurlus recited it back to him before he left the office.

He was met by another Goblin outside of the door who greeted him with a very prim, “Heir Potter-Black,” and began to walk down the corridor towards the mines, Harry following along as quickly as he could. He had not expected any of this when he arrived at Gringotts this morning. With the dramatics of his personal letter, he wondered what Sirius’ will would hold in store.

Sitting in the empty meeting room, Harry could not stop the feeling of being out of place. He tried to distract himself with Sirius’ journal - a worn brown leather book that seemed to have an expandable charm on it so it would never run out of pages - but he could not stop the sense of dread that was piling up in his stomach. Nurlus had not told him who would be at this meeting, not that Harry expected him to, but he knew that Remus was at least going to be in attendance. Despite Sirius’ warning in his letter, the werewolf was still his best friend and Harry could not see his father excluding him from his will even if he had suspected Remus being unfailingly faithful to Dumbledore. He would just have to be more careful around the ex-professor. His father had done all of this for his safety; it would be incredibly stupid for Harry to disregard it now.

After being dropped off in the meeting room, Harry was instructed to wait as the others arrived, Nurlus looking rather annoyed with something that occurred in their time apart. Harry once more did not ask, just nodding his head and taking the seat one over from where Nurlus would read the will, a seat between him and the Goblin. He spent a few seconds fidgeting with the small necklace he had found in Sirius’ vault. It had seemed that Sirius had spent more time at Gringotts than anyone knew. His father had placed little notes around to describe all the objects in the vault and warnings for Harry not to touch a particular dark artifact. 

The necklace around his neck had been a gift from Lily to James who had planned on giving it to Harry when he was older. According to Sirius’ note, he had taken it off James just the week before Godric’s Hollow was attacked. James had begged me to take it. As if he could sense that something terrible was going to happen. Your father was an Auror and had a penchant for getting in trouble even in his adult years; I knew better than to question him, Harry. This necklace would have rightfully been yours by now, Lily and James wore it long enough to infuse their magic in it. I do not know all the charms that Lils put on it, she was amazing with charms. But if you choose this as your protective accessory, it will do the job.

Even without the protective charms, hearing that James had meant this for him and their magic was infused in it was enough for Harry. The pendant on the necklace was a little circle with a jagged, dark purple gemstone within, the jagged part facing away from his skin. Harry did not know what stone it was exactly. He would have to look it up later. Along with the necklace, he took Sirius’ journal, desperate for more knowledge on his true parents and a handful of galleons for his shopping trip after this. He had not wanted anything else currently, though he had read all of Sirius’ little notes on what everything was. His father had cared for him and his safety and it made Harry’s heart hurt. He would never get to know Sirius as his parent. That was almost as devastating as losing the man.

Finally getting fed up with the silence of the room, Harry turned to the journal in front of him and flipped to a random page within it, hoping it would distract him and make time pass a little faster.

11 December 1976

James asked me out for a Hogsmeade weekend. . . I am not sure if he realizes my feelings or not, but he dressed up? I was unaware that this was a date! I would not be wearing jeans that Mrs. Potter got me for my birthday if I had known. But Prongs did not seem to mind, Merlin his smile!!! Lily would probably laugh if she knew that I was swooning over “Stupid Potter” but how can I not when he approached me with his winter cloak on and asked if I would spend the day with him? He even let me wear his scarf because I forgot mine!

We had an early lunch at the Three Broomsticks and we did some Yule shopping and it was such an amazing day. Even though I kind of spoiled his gift. At least the candy basket and dragon-hide gloves had been a smart idea, good thinking past me! And he even bought me jelly slugs without me having to ask him! I do not care what others say, he is the smartest boy. Wait until I tell Reggie.

The best part was when we were walking back and James put his arm around my shoulders and kept me close. “For warmth, Paddy, your nose is red!” But Merlin I am in love with this man! I never wanted to leave his arms, but he pulled away when we reached the Hogwarts Gates. We did walk together to the Gryffindor tower and he even kissed my cheek with that shy, tilted grin of his. I am swooning again just thinking about it. I want to yell to all of Hogwarts, the world, that I Love James Abraham Potter! I only hope that my mother will not force me to marry Greengrass -

The door opening startled Harry out of his reading, slamming the cover of the journal shut while his head snapped to the side. His grey eyes met the amber ones of his old professor, Remus Lupin. Who looked just as shocked to see him as the startled Harry had been.

“Oh! Harry? I did not know you were coming today, Dumbledore said you were still mourning,” Remus had attempted to put on a smile, though it disappeared when he mentioned the mourning that Harry was supposed to be doing. Remus walked further into the room, Harry taking in the traditional brown suit that he had worn for the majority of his teaching at Hogwarts. Sirius had said before that Remus scraped together any money he had and that his wardrobe was old, reduced down to “Whatever Moony does not destroy.”

Perhaps a shopping trip with Remus would be ideal? Though Harry was reminded of Sirius’ warning and he still felt the sting of Remus not writing to him all summer. The older man was the last link to his parents, both thought and actual, and Remus had left him to what. . . wallow in his guilt about Sirius’ death? It made Harry angry. How could they all think that leaving a fifteen-year-old to stew in his angst was the cure-all that he needed? Last summer and the school year had been enough evidence that Harry did not cope well alone. Yes, his father was right to be worried it would seem.

“Hello Professor Lupin, I am still mourning, but it is Sirius’ will reading, it felt right to come.” Harry kept his voice level, hoping not to reveal anything. He had to be careful to keep his father’s plans. Sirius had worked too hard to protect him and had lost his life in doing so, it was only fair that Harry kept up his charade. At least for as long as he could. Remus bobbed his head, humming as he took in Harry’s reasoning.

“Yes, I can imagine you are still upset about Sir - Padfoot.” He took a pause, those amber eyes taking in Harry’s new appearance. “Did you start dying your hair. . . and get contacts, Harry?”

“I-uh,” Harry stuttered as he tried to come up with a reason for his different appearance. Luckily, he was saved by the door opening and someone else entered the room.

This man was a stranger to Harry. The teen was sure that he would have remembered a man with a jaw that looked like it was illegal and had sharp eyes that looked almost bored to be there. His face was handsome and his hair, light brown color and slicked back in a way that Malfoy would envy. He was also dressed a lot better than both Harry and Remus. He has on an off-white suit, a black turtleneck underneath that matched his flowing black robe. Harry could not see his shoes, but he would bet everything to say that they were not scuffed up.

“Taehee? You got summoned?”

Remus seemed to know who this was, Harry taking in the stunned look on the werewolf’s face. It would seem that the two knew each other. Though they were not on the best of terms if the sour look on. . . Taehee’s face was anything to go by.

“Lupin. I’m surprised you were even still around Sirius.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“I mean, that your head is so far up Dumbledore’s ass that you could probably smell his dinner.”

Harry suppressed an amused grin; Taehee’s words reminded him of how Sirius used to talk, not worried about making an impression or being delicate with anyone. Although the way he dressed, Taehee did not need to be cordial with anyone to command respect. He was startled a little bit when a low growl left Remus’ chest, the teen scooting his chair away slightly to not be too close to the angered wolf. Taehee’s eyes flicked over to him briefly before focusing back on Remus, the bored expression never vacating his face as he took a seat three down from where Nurlus would stand.

“And from what I hear, you are too busy getting Azkaban prisoners, people who commit crimes, free from their sentence with a slap on the wrist,” 

Taehee’s bored expression finally shifted a grin that was almost shark-like spreading on his lips. He leaned forward on the table, clasping his hands in front of him as if he was in a business meeting.

“My clients are innocent, Lupin. I would not fight for them if they were not. Perhaps if I had not been sixteen at the time, Sirius would have been spared his time in Azkaban. Only a fool would believe he killed Lily and James Potter,” Harry could see Remus’ guilt overthrow his anger. He had remembered how Remus believed Sirius guilty until third year when he had seen Pettigrew on the map. Taehee seemed to be able to come to the same conclusions, the shark grin never leaving his face but his eyes became sharper, more dangerous. 

“And only a terrible friend would have stood at Sirius’ side while he was labeled an escaped convict, not once fighting for his friend’s innocence. But that must not be you, Lupin? I am sure you fought every day for the last 14 years for Sirius’ name to be cleared. Or even begged your precious ‘Leader’ to rally behind your close friend?”

Taehee’s words had hit somewhere deep in Remus and Harry wondered how exactly the other was connected to Sirius, enough so that he was at his will hearing. He did not seem like the type of person that his father would have associated with. Though with the situation that the brunet man had painted, Remus should not have been someone that his father associated with. Remus had not fought for his father once. He had run away after Lily and James’ deaths, no concern for Harry and where he had ended up or the validity of Sirius killing them when he had not even been the secret keeper. He had also disappeared numerous times on ‘missions’ from Dumbledore and have never corrected Molly on how she talked to Sirius in his own home. What kind of friend was Remus Lupin? A terrible one, just like Taehee had said.

The door opened once more and Harry felt his heart begin to beat rapidly at who walked into the room.

Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy.

He knew that he would eventually have to confront Zabini, but he did not think it would be this soon. Harry wondered if signing the marriage contract had allowed Zabini to be here or if he was summoned because Sirius put him in the will. The two Slytherins were dressed immaculately as well, both decked out in black, though Zabini had a grey turtleneck under his suit jacket while Malfoy was wearing black on black. Malfoy had also stopped slicking his hair back, the pale locks laying on his head in what Harry could only assume was the natural way it laid. Again, he was sure that their shoes were not scuffed and Harry quickly ducked his head in embarrassment. If he had known Zabini would be here, then he would have gone shopping before the reading.

Despite not making eye contact with either of them, the soft clicks of their shoes sounded until they paused next to him, Harry fidgeting with the edges of Sirius’ journal.

“Is this seat taken?” The smooth velvet voice sounded, a slender hand resting on the back of the chair next to Harry. The hand had a silver ring with a ‘Z’ engraved on it. There was no denying that Zabini was asking if he could sit next to him and Harry’s heart was beating out of his chest.

“N-no, it’s not, feel free,” He managed, gesturing at the chair while still refusing to look at Zabini. The Slytherin let out a soft noise, pulling the chair out and taking the seat, Malfoy assumedly taking the seat to Zabini’s left. Harry did catch sight of Zabini’s dress shoes and just as he expected, no scuffs. His neck warmed and he began to fidget with his necklace. He could smell the other’s cologne from their proximity. The scent of mint was strong, but other scents were mixing with the mint. Apple and lemon? The cologne was very citrusy and it made Harry want to smell it some more. Though he did not think that Zabini would be too happy with someone who had just found out about their marriage contract sniffing him because his cologne smells good.

“Nephew, nice to see you,” Taehee broke the silence, those sharp eyes now focused on Harry and Zabini. Harry blanched at the greeting, wondering if he was speaking to him. He did not know who Taehee was to Sirius, could he possibly be his uncle?

“Uncle. Pleasure as always,” Zabini saved him from embarrassment, answering the other back in the cool way that Harry knew came from growing up in the Wizarding World. Harry would need to learn how to speak in the same way that Taehee and Zabini spoke. Although the knowledge that Taehee was Zabini’s uncle was a little confusing, the two looked nothing alike, and outside of his betrothal, Harry could not think of a single instance of why Zabini would be here. Perhaps everyone in the Wizarding World was related? He had seen a ton of Pureblood families on the Black Family tree. It had seemed at the time that Sirius was related to everyone in some fashion.

“Everything worked out finally?” Taehee continued, choosing his words delicately, though Harry caught those dark eyes flicking over to him and knew instantly what they were talking about. The marriage contract that Harry had not signed until that morning. The raven-haired teen risked a glance at Zabini, finding the Slytherin already looking back at him. Harry blushed, but held the other’s gaze until Zabini finally turned back to Taehee.

“Yes, Uncle. Got the news this morning when I was getting ready. Mother is excited to keep busy.” Zabini spoke, in the same bored tone that Taehee had come in with, but with the corners of his mouth lifting a little as he talked, Harry could tell that the other was hiding behind his mask. He had forgotten about Remus being in the room, himself, but with the calculated words being exchanged, his companions had not forgotten. Taehee nodded, a fond smile slipping on his lips before he went back to staring off into space. His entire posture and resolve was one big mask; Harry could tell from what he had seen from Lucius Malfoy the few times they had met. Taehee had an air of high regard around him and Harry wondered just how important he was in society. He was related to the Zabini family somehow, he had to be rather influential.

“Potter, may I speak with you after the reading?” Zabini pulled his attention back to him. Harry bit his lip, wondering if he should correct Zabini on the usage of his title, but when those dark eyes glanced down at Harry’s hand, he understood why Zabini had identified him as such. He was giving him the choice to tell people of his heritage, of who his true parents were. It was a thoughtful gesture that Harry had not been expecting in the slightest. It was not right, but Harry had assumed that his betrothed would be cruel like Malfoy had been the last few years, but he seemed rather aware and neutral.

“Sure, Zabini.” He answered, surprised that his words did not shake as they had before, but the lack of stutter did make Zabini’s lips quirk up momentarily in a smirk. He found that he was very intrigued with the possibility of seeing Zabini smile and enjoy himself because Harry had done something endearing. But for right now, it would have to suffice for the sight of the little smirk and the satisfied look on Zabini’s face.

When the door opened next, a group of people came in, though they quickly sat on opposite sides of the table. Four women entered the room, Harry identifying Tonks with her bubblegum pink hair and her usual attire that consisted of clunky boots and her Auror robes. He found himself wishing that the woman had been serious for one occasion. He vaguely remembered that Tonks was Sirius’ niece; she could have easily dressed up a little bit more for this meeting. Sirius was her uncle; even people who had no familial connections to Sirius had dressed up better than her. Suddenly, his scuffed shoes were not as serious compared to Tonks’ lack of care for the importance of this meeting. She walked in as if it was Grimmauld Place, though she surprisingly did not trip as she took the seat across from Remus, with a flirtatious smile.

One of the other women took the seat next to Tonks, fear grabbed Harry’s heart as he came face to face with Bellatrix. She had changed her hair color, but there was no denying that this woman had Bellatrix’s facial features. A strong hand rested on Harry’s, the teen reluctant to pull his gaze from the lady, but slowly moved his attention to the arm and its owner.

Zabini had not looked outwardly concerned, his mask still firmly in place, but the worry was in his eyes, probably the most expressive part of the Zabini heir. Harry’s eyes looked back at the woman, finding her eyes on him and a sad kind of smile on her face. He returned his gaze to Zabini, the Slytherin seemingly taking in the situation silently, hand still firm on Harry’s wrist, solid support that Harry had never experienced outside of Sirius.

Another hand landed on Harry, this time belonging to Remus, and Harry barely stopped himself from ripping his arm away. Zabini’s touch had been more comforting; Remus’ felt like a metal cuff that would drag him down. Grey eyes drifted to the woman once more, his fearful expression probably showing on his face.

“Harry, I do not think we have met before. I am Andromeda Tonks, Sirius’ cousin. My appearance must come as a shock to you; I have been told I resemble my older sister, who caused my cousin’s passing. I am sorry for scaring you,” the woman, now identified as his future guardian Andromeda Tonks, looked rather sincere in her apology. Harry nodded his head in understanding, a sheepish smile on his lips for the misunderstanding. 

She did look very similar to Bellatrix, their facial features almost identical, their eyes being the only difference. Bellatrix had heavily-lidded eyes that swirled with madness. Andromeda’s eyes were bright and round, a friendly face of a mother. She had delicate features, her age showing a little, but she still had the Black Family’s refined looks. His eyes finally registered fully that her hair color was nothing like Bellatrix’s. Looking at her in full; he could admit that she did not look identical to her sister, despite how similar they looked.

Unlike her daughter, Andromeda had dressed up for the occasion, though she did avoid Wizard robes. She was wearing a cream-colored shirt that appeared to be a simple button-up shirt. On top, she had a back vest and he recalls that she had been wearing black slacks that flared out towards her feet. He had not seen her shoes, but he could assume they were classy as well. He appreciated that Andromeda had dressed up nice.

He turned his attention to the other women who had entered the room, now recognizing her as the third Black sister, Narcissa Malfoy. Her blonde hair was a dead giveaway that she was related to the Malfoy family, but with the same features as Andromeda and Sirius, it was no hard feat to identify her. She had taken a seat on the other side of Malfoy, a look of indifference on both their faces. Like her sister, she had dressed up, however, Harry was guessing it was less for Sirius’ sake and more for her position in the Pureblood society.

Harry had no idea about fashion, but Narcissa seemed to be wearing a one-piece ensemble, long sleeves that covered her arms, and a v neck shape to the top. The bottoms flared out like Andromeda’s slack had and he had caught sight of her shoes. They were tall heels that looked like one wrong move would lead to a broken ankle. She was as stunning as Harry had heard about from others and seen on the Black family tree.

She inclined her head at him when she caught his gaze, her blue eyes catching on where Zabini’s hand was still resting on his arm. The teen blushed at being caught, but he did not move. The warmth of Zabini’s hand was welcomed compared to Remus, who had thankfully let go by now. Harry did not want to lose the small comfort. He had not received any gentle touches since he had been dropped off at the Dursleys.

His attention turned to the last woman who had come in the room, finding her black eyes already looking back at him, a tender look on her face as she stared upon him and her son. Lady Zabini had not gone as high fashion as Narcissa, though her sharp features revealed that even though her outfit was not as fashion-forward as Narcissa’s, she still commanded respect. Lady Zabini had worn a simple black shirt that had puffy sleeves and a long skirt that went all the way down to her feet. She sat next to Taehee and Harry could see the similarities in their facial features, indicating that Taehee was Zabini’s uncle through his mother’s side. Between Taehee and Lady Zabini, Zabini’s strong bone structure, and handsome looks.

“I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Potter,” Lady Zabini spoke after staring him down for a few minutes. “I understand that Sirius was very close to you and I cannot imagine the hurt you feel,” Lady Zabini’s eyes glanced down at his arm again where Harry was hyper-aware of Zabini’s thumb rubbing his wrist in some way of comforting him. He secretly hoped that this is what his new reality would become, that he had someone to care about him like Zabini already seemed to. Even if it was all for show, it was better than the bruising and isolation that Harry had become accustomed to.

“Thank you Lady Zabini,” he whispered, nodding his head shyly.

He could feel Remus staring at the side of his face, but he kept his attention on Lady Zabini and Taehee. If the other man was going to ignore him after Sirius, then he did not have the right to know all of the facets of Harry any more. Lady Zabini nodded her head, a soft smile on her lips. She gestured at Zabini’s hand, the Slytherin slowly removing his comforting touch from Harry, brushing the back of his hand before his hands returned to his lap as if he had never touched him. Harry desperately missed the touch, but he knew better than to say anything out loud. Not only were he and Zabini not close, but he was willing to bet that there were facets to their betrothal that Harry did not know yet and it would be proper to follow their social cues.

The door opened again, this time Nurlus being the one to walk through and Harry sat up a bit straighter. There was no clock in this room so he was hoping that the appearance of Nurlus meant that this was about to start.

“Is everyone present?” Nurlus asked upon reaching the front of the table and observing the people sitting at the table. More specifically the four empty chairs at the end of the table. Harry was unsure who else was supposed to be at this will reading. Nurlus grumbled under his breath, something in his native tongue that none of them could understand, as he shuffled through the papers that he had. Harry did not know if they could continue the reading without the missing participants.

His thoughts were cut off when the door slammed open with a loud bang, the missing people seemingly have arrived.

“You are late,” Nurlus’ voice was cold as he stared at the newcomers. Harry himself was staring at the people in the doorway himself, wishing Zabini would hold his arm again if only so he could have some support again.

In the doorway stood Dumbledore, his robes a garish bright blue that was unfit for this occasion, Molly Weasley, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. All of them dressed casually as if this was an afternoon outing to Diagon Alley and not to Harry’s father’s will hearing. If the four standing there had stunned Harry, the fifth person left him speechless.

Dressed in an outfit that looked like it was stolen from his wardrobe, was Harry Potter. Or someone that looked like how he used to look. Polyjuice potion? Was there anything that Dumbledore would not stoop to? Though the appearance of his best friends, after a month of no contact, standing at Sirius’ will hearing, apparently being summoned is heartbreaking. They could not reach out to him, but they could come to the will reading, most likely with the notion that Sirius had left them something? He wondered if there was a way he could take away anything that Sirius had left them, they did not deserve it. Not for their treatment of him. Though by the greedy look on Ron’s face, Harry was willing to bet that this is why the redhead was here. He had always wanted money and probably believed that Sirius left him money. It made Harry sick to his stomach.

“Now what in the world is this?” Nurlus’ voice was harsh as he glared down at the fake Harry, who shifted uncomfortably under the Goblin’s gaze.

“I contacted Harry and he decided he would like to come to the hearing,” Dumbledore replied smoothly, even conjuring a chair for the fake Harry so they could all sit, Hermione looking rather uncomfortable sitting next to Narcissa while the fake Harry sat next to Lady Zabini, who moved closer to her uncle slightly.

“That is very peculiar, Mr. Dumbledore.”

“Oh, you know how teenagers are! Now onto the reading,” Taehee scoffed at the brushing off from Dumbledore. “Something to say, Mr. Min?”

“Why yes, Albus. It is rather strange that Mr. Potter should arrive with you when he has been sitting here this entire time.” All the heads turned toward Harry, taking in the black hair and the grey eyes of the teenager. Hermione, ever the dramatic, gasped at the sight of Harry.

“That’s not Harry!” Ron’s loud voice sounded in the room, his face turning red as he stared between the real Harry and Nurlus. “Harry does not have grey eyes or sit with Death Eaters!”

Harry clenched his hands in his lap, wanting to scream at how bigoted Ron was. If Ron spent as much time studying as he does eating, he would know that the Zabini family was notorious neutral and had been for generations. Harry was unsure where this protectiveness had come from, he had never cared to defend Zabini before, but now that he was a betrothed, Harry did not want anyone talking bad about him.

“Mr. Weasley, please refrain from name-calling Gringotts clients. All have been called here today by Lord Black’s will and I will not hesitate to remove you from this room if you further speak insults.” The Goblin glared at Ron and Harry had to refrain from laughing as his face got redder in anger, but Molly pinched his arm and muttered for him to keep quiet.

“I assure you, this is Harry Potter, I picked him up from his relatives myself. I do not know who is sitting next to Remus and Mr. Zabini, but it is not Harry Potter and he should be removed from this meeting immediately.” Dumbledore spoke again, Harry’s stomach twisting in anger that he was trying to have him removed from the meeting. Though the teen could not voice his thoughts on it yet as Nurlus just snorted and handed out pieces of parchments to all at the table. Harry recognized it as one of the heritage tests that he had just taken. He already knew what would be written on the parchment.

“Please sign your name at the top of the parchment,” Nurlus instructed, quills popping up in front of everyone. Taehee groaned in annoyance but signed his name anyway. Harry felt bad that this was all because of his identity, but he realized that it was Dumbledore’s ploy and not his fault at all. Dumbledore was holding them all up.

“This really isn’t necessary.” Nurlus ignored Dumbledore once more as he conjured small daggers for everyone.

“Please cut your hand and let five drops of your blood onto the parchment. Once you are done, please pass them back my way.”

Harry sliced his palm for the second time that day, sliding his parchment back to Nurlus with a small nod. All the others followed suit with various degrees of willingness, the four at the end seeming the most reluctant, but that was not surprising. This cut did not heal by itself, Taehee gesturing for the teens to hold their hands out to have their cuts healed.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured, pulling his hand back in his lap taking Sirius’ journal with him so it was not on the table any longer. Taehee nodded his head in acknowledgment, slipping his wand away once more.

“Thank you for your cooperation, I will now read off the names of who is here.” Nurlus cleared his throat before beginning to read off the names on the paper.

“Nymphadora Vulpecula Tonks. Andromeda Charis Tonks. Min Taehee. Hyejing Zabini. Remus John Lupin. Harry Regulus Potter-Black. Blaise Lucien Zabini. Draco Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa Druella Malfoy. Hermione Jean Granger. Ronald Bilius Weasley. Molly Pearl Weasley. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Ginevra Molly Weasley.”

Upon Nurlus speaking her name out, the fake Harry disguise melted away leaving behind the only Weasley daughter, her eyes beginning to fill with tears at being discovered.

“Oh this is a new low,” Draco scoffed, talking for the first time since he entered the meeting room. Narcissa and Taehee were glaring at the girl, various ranges of annoyance on their faces. The Zabinis looked unimpressed, Zabini shaking his head in disbelief and ducking his head to hide his amused smirk. Harry’s own lips twitching in a smile at seeing Zabini happy but quickly masked it once more.

“Well, that test is incorrect! Harry’s name is Harry James Potter!” Hermione’s voice grated on everyone’s ears, Andromeda even wincing at the volume of which the young Gryffindor spoke.

“Whether or not his middle name is correct is not up for you to decide Ms. Granger. I had already spoken with Mr. Potter this morning and I can vouch that the test is not faulty. Though attempting to trick the Goblin nation is a crime.” The words on one of the parchments began to glow red.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, for breaching a private meeting and falsely portraying Mr. Potter, you are hereby barred from Gringotts services. You may never store your gold within any of the Goblin nation’s banks again and should you enter one of our banks again, you will be arrested and tried in Goblin court, so be it.” Nurlus’ words were met with protests from the five at the end of the table.

“You can’t do that!” Ginny screamed, Harry wincing at the volume. Two human guards came into the room, one of them grabbing each of Ginny’s arms and lifting her out of the chair.

“I can and I have. Your signature is your agreement, it is not the Goblin nation’s fault that you do not understand the weight of your signature, however false it is,” Nurlus growled, showing off Ginny’s test with her messed up signature that read ‘Harry J. Potter’. Harry had never signed his middle name on any documents.

Ginny was dragged out of the room, all the while yelling and the doors slammed behind her. “Mrs. Weasley, feel free to collect your daughter after the reading. If anyone leaves now, they will lose whatever Lord Black has left them.”

No one moved, watching the Goblin in silence. Harry desperately wanted the will to be read at this point, wanting to get out of this chair and get to his conversation with Zabini, he wanted to know what he had to say.

“Now onto the reading.”

“Actually Nurlus, I have the adjusted will of Sirius Black, dated a few days before his death.” Dumbledore pulled out a scroll, Harry flinching when it was set on fire in Dumbledore’s hand.

“Disrespecting the dead, Albus. I am not even surprised, but seeing as Lord Black’s godson is here, perhaps you should keep your snake lips shut?” Taehee snarled, looking thoroughly irritated with Dumbledore’s antics.

“That was the true will, Taehee.”

“Mr. Min to you, and if that was the true will, then why would you have it? Do you forget that the Min family are skilled in curse breaking, my own father the best there is, and I have been able to detect simple charms on wills since I was ten years old? That false will is dated after Lord Black’s passing.” Harry was stunned by the other’s words, wondering why he had never met another Min before. They seemed like they were really powerful and this was Harry’s first time ever meeting any of them. It was shocking.

“Mr. Min is correct. The will in my possession was written and dated the morning of June 18th, the same day of Lord Black’s passing,” Nurlus’ words caused Harry’s stomach to flip uncomfortably and he clutched his father’s journal tightly to keep his bile down. Sirius had known. He had known that something bad was going to happen and he had finalized his will. Harry could not take it anymore.

Nurlus pulled out the official will, breaking the seal on the parchment and placing it down on the table. “I will put a silencing charm on you all so the will may be read and heard by all here.” With a flourish of his hand, the only noise left was the sound of Nurlus breathing and shuffling the papers. Nurlus tapped the will and Sirius’ voice filled the room. Harry’s breath caught in his throat at the sound of his father’s voice. Merlin, how he missed him.

I, Sirius Orion Potter-Black, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, of sound mind and body, declare this to be my final will and testament, voiding all previous ones. This will and testament is dated June 18th, 1996.

To Remus Lupin, my dearest friend, I leave you 5,000 galleons. I beg you to use this money to take care of yourself. I also leave you one of the Black Family vacation homes in Leeds. You were one of my closest friends growing up Remus and this is a show of how much you meant to me. I will leave you with a single warning. Do not blindly follow people anymore. You had followed James and me, our antics and pranks. You are so strong Remus; you do not need to be a follower. I love you Moony.

Remus’ hands trembled on the table as he listened to Sirius’ words. Harry secretly hoped that Sirius’ words would sink into Remus and that the werewolf would realize that following Dumbledore blindly was not the way he should be going. Though a small part of Harry was whispering that Sirius’ warning would not be heeded and Remus would continue his blind faith.

To Andromeda Tonks, dear cousin, this has been a long time coming, but as Lord Black, I reinstate you as a member of the Black Family with access to your old vault. Along with this, I formerly disown Bellatrix Lestrange and demand her vaults be searched for Black Family Heirlooms and valuables for retribution for the stain she has left on the noble Black Family. Andy, I ask you to please look after my son, teach him how to be a part of our society, he will need all the help he can get.

Harry glanced at Andromeda, seeing tears dripping down her cheeks as she looked at the parchment as if it was Sirius. His father had told him about Andromeda getting disowned for marrying Ted Tonks, a muggle that she had loved dearly. It was a sad story, but Sirius had finally righted the wrong and then some by removing Bellatrix from the Black Family.

To Nymphadora Tonks, do not get started with me about the use of your name, I have to use it. To you, dear niece, I offer the warning to watch your path. My brother had thought he was doing good in the world by joining Voldemort’s forces and he had gotten in over his head. Our family has spilled enough blood for these wars that we should not even be a part of.

Tonks had a sour look on her face, scowling at the parchment. Molly and Dumbledore had similar expressions, realizing that Sirius was not primarily giving out money and properties, but advice for his family. Harry thought it was rather distasteful to come to a will reading with the idea that you were getting something materialistic.

To Min Taehee, oh how I wish to see your face upon getting the invitation for this hearing. It has been seventeen long years since we last saw each other, back before Regulus’ death. I have missed your quick wit; you are far more entertaining than the people around me now. You were very dear to Regulus’ heart and he was taken from both of us way too soon. I think it is high time that you are brought into the Black Family finally, as you should have been seventeen years ago. With this induction, I would also like to leave you a sum of 3,000 galleons, the amount that you would have gotten had you been able to marry Regulus. I also leave you Grimmauld Place, Regulus adored growing up there and I believe he would want you to have it. I implore you to look at the Black Family tree when you visit, you may find some interesting information and know where to start better than I could have ever. You have always been a part of our family Taehee, ever since Reggie came to me and gushed over your first date. I wish I could have met you face to face once again in our lives, but we all know how fate never agrees with our families.

The bored expression was gone from Taehee’s face for the first time since meeting, replaced with a look of tiredness that appeared decades old. Harry gathered that Taehee had been Regulus’ partner before he went missing and the fact that Sirius had gone so far as to officially instate him in the Black Family illustrates just how deep Sirius’ compassion went and how he had cared for everyone that touched his life, even someone from his teenage years. Harry was in awe of the man that his father was, hoping that he could be as great of a man as his father one day.

To Hyejing Zabini, I am very aware of the other ears in the room currently, so I have left you a private letter with the specifics. For the curious buggers in the room, I leave Hyejing the promise of our agreement and ask her to look after Harry, for none have done before. I hope everything worked out fine Hye, and I hope that you forgive me if the deadline passes. Please watch my Prongslet.

Hyejing nodded her head, reaching out for the envelope from Nurlus and tugging it into her lap. She looked over at Harry and shot him a soft smile before focusing back on the Will.

To Blaise Zabini, I also leave the request that you watch over Harry. My dear Prongslet has not known much love and care in his life and from the times I have met you, I know you are a smart kid. You will go far, Blaise. Please help Harry learn to be free. I can still come back and haunt you if you do not. I also leave you a letter with further information not for the public’s ears.

Harry could feel his ears burning at his father’s words, leaning forward to grab the envelope for Zabini, handing it off to the Slytherin. Zabini had a tiny smile on his lips, his lanky fingers brushing Harry’s as he took the letter from Harry. The raven-haired boy blushed some more, ducking his head in shyness. Zabini’s hand drifted into his field of view, fingers wrapping around Harry’s softly, warily. Harry glanced up at him and let a timid smile sliding on his lips.

To Draco Malfoy, I leave 2,000 galleons to be placed in a private vault. There are dark times ahead of us Little Malfoy, and I was the first casualty of our family. Please know that there are other routes to living than following orders. I escaped my mother’s expectations of me and I would like to give you a safe place that the Potter family had given me. Just in case, Dragon. In exchange, please look after Harry. I fear his upcoming year at Hogwarts and knowing he has you and Blaise in his corner will put me at ease.

The blond Slytherin looked rather torn by Sirius’ words, staring off at a spot on the table. However, Narcissa looked rather relieved by Sirius’ words. Harry did not know why Malfoy would need a safe place, but he could only imagine that it had something to do with Lucius’ failure at the Department of Mysteries and getting locked in Azkaban. He hoped that Malfoy would actually take Sirius’ help and get away from whatever was going on at his home.

To Narcissa Malfoy, dear Cissa, we may not have gotten along much as children, but I do miss you dearly. I leave you the Indus Manor. It was your father’s estate anyways and I am sure you would love another vacation house. I also request that you work in tandem with Andy and aid her in teaching my son of the Black Family ways and how to be a proper Pureblood. I know your husband may not approve, but I ask as your cousin, please look after your nephew.

Narcissa’s face was in shock when she heard what Sirius had left her. Her eyes connected with Harry’s, giving him a small nod. Harry tilted his head to convey that he saw her. Zabini’s thumb brushed over his knuckles to comfort him. His face was back in a mask, his eyes bored as he listened, but the gentle gesture showed that he was paying attention to Harry’s reactions. The only ones left now were the four at the end of the table. Harry sat up a little straighter, wondering what Sirius may have left them.

To Hermione Granger, I leave the warning to stay away from Harry. You are a rather rude girl who took advantage of a boy who had never had friends before, only to berate and treat him like absolute garbage. And that was only from the time I was around you. You will not get far in this world being snotty and a know-it-all.

Zabini’s hand had tightened on Harry’s during Sirius’ words. It was now Harry’s turn to rub at the other’s hand with his thumb, hoping to reassure him that he was okay. Though both of them looked over at Malfoy when he snorted, the blond was unable to hold in his amusement at Sirius’ words. Hermione looked a mix between angry and about to cry. Harry wondered what she thought she was going to get out of Sirius.

To Ron Weasley, I extend the same warning to you. Stay away from Harry. He should have never forgiven you for the hate campaign you facilitated during the Triwizard Tournament. I have never met a lazier, greedy boy than you and I do not want you around Harry. I am sure that you have not even cared to check on him. Granger either. You two focused more on yourselves than someone who should be your friend.

It was lucky for them that Nurlus had put up the silencing charms, as Ron exploded. None could hear what he was saving, but his thin lips were moving fast and his face resembled a tomato. Harry could not help but agree with his father’s words. He should have never forgiven Ron for fourth year. Malfoy may have begun the hate campaign, but Ron had participated because he was jealous of the ‘glory’ that Harry would get. Sure, he had won in the end, but it had come at the price of Cedric Diggory’s death. Zabini was glaring at Ron, his fingers tight enough to bruise, but Harry was reluctant to let go of his hand. It felt like the only thing holding him in place right now.

To Molly Weasley, I declare you an enemy to House Black. Not only have you isolated Harry after making him dependent on you, attempted to sign a marriage contract for your hellish offspring, but you have also been stealing from Harry’s vaults. He is my son; I have a right to check up on his accounts. Over two hundred thousand galleons, stolen from Harry. What else have you stolen while you scorned me in my own house? I know that Harry will never seek retribution for your misdeeds, Harry is too kind for that. But I am not Harry. In my son’s honor, I demand that the Weasley family pay back what they have stolen and have their vault and home search for any heirloom that may belong to the Potter family. Just like you do not play with your children, I do not mess around with mine. May your family suffer from your decisions, Molly. 

The reveal of Harry’s parentage had everyone look at him in shock, except for the Zabinis, Andy, and Narcissa of course. He had not expected Sirius to just drop that bomb, but Sirius had always been a little loose-lipped when he was angry. It would come out sooner than later, he had the last name as Sirius and carried his brother’s name as his middle name. It was only a matter of time. The most interesting outcome was the true shock of Sirius’ harshness.

Harry did not know that the Weasleys had been stealing from him, and he was almost certain that it was not any of the older brothers, just Molly, Ron, and Ginny, but it still hurt all together. But he was not the only one who had gotten angry, all the Purebloods’ mouths moving in anger as they glared at the Weasley Matriarch. Molly was shouting just like her son had, throwing a tantrum behind her silencing spell. Harry found himself embarrassed that he had once thought of this woman as a mother.

He looked over at Zabini, the other dark eyes finding his eyes after a few seconds.

“Okay?” Zabini mouthed, thumb brushing his knuckles again. Harry nodded, squeezing Zabini’s hand once more. Zabini nodded his head and focused back on the parchment.

To Albus Dumbledore, I declare you an enemy to House Black. Between stealing my son from his rightful family, locking me away in Azkaban when you knew I was innocent, and then proceeding to toss Harry to the side until you needed him, for your shitty prophecy. Harry is a boy, my boy. And if he wants to fight, he will and if not, you will figure it out without guilt-tripping my son into your fucking war. Is it because you do not have another sister to kill? Is that why you are obsessed with my child? I have also noticed you stealing from my son and I would like the million galleons that Albus Dumbledore has stolen from my son returned and his vaults, properties, and office searched for Potter heirlooms. I sincerely hope you get everything coming to you, old man.

Dumbledore was not happy with any of the words, scowling at the parchment. Sirius’ words were undeniable truths, realities that even Remus and Tonks would have to accept. The two had been sitting much like their leader, scowling with Sirius’ biting words, but this part of the will should make them think about their blind faith.

And lastly, To Harry, my little Prongslet, I leave everything else to you. You have already received my private letter if Nurlus followed my orders, so I will leave this here with I love you my son, do not ever forget that. Please allow yourself to be happy and to find love. This is all I have ever wanted for you, all James and I wanted for you.

With the owner of Grimmauld Place now being Min Taehee, I demand that the Order of the Phoenix vacate the premises. Anything within the townhouse currently is property of the Black Family, up to Taehee’s discretion. I offered my family in good faith for their use only to be ridiculed and treated like a child, a prisoner in my own home. I believe this is a fair trade for the stress I have been made to suffer through. This ends my last will and testament, so mote be it.

Harry did not notice he was crying until Taehee reached across the table, a handkerchief outstretched. The teen silently thanked him, taking it to wipe at his eyes as Nurlus dropped the silencing charm. Almost instantaneously, noise filled the chamber, voices yelling over each other.

“He can’t do that!” Hermione’s shrill voice sounded.

“That stingy Tosser! What does Malfoy need more money for?” Ron vocalized his fuming. 

“Did you steal all that money from Mr. Potter? That’s a lawsuit worth of money,” Taehee did not yell, but he was stunned by all the knowledge he had found out.

“Sirius must have been playing around, he is not this cruel. He was not well,” Remus’ voice added into the mix, Harry losing all hope that he would take Sirius’ words to heart. No, Remus was too much of a coward, a follower.

Molly, Narcissa, and Andromeda were all arguing over who would take care of Harry, this being the first time he had ever seen Narcissa Malfoy look anything other than prim.

Dumbledore was arguing with the Nurlus, threatening to take all of his money out of Gringotts if they followed through with “a degenerate’s words based on no real proof!” 

“Are you okay, Potter?”

It was Malfoy who had asked the question, bringing both Zabinis’ attention to him. Hyejing had a concerned look on her face, the first break in her careful mask that he had truly seen beside the soft, motherly smiles. The teen finally noticed that his breathing was a little fast; his hand clutching Zabini’s as if it was not connected to another person. He tried to get his mouth to work, but his tongue would not cooperate. He wanted to tell them not to worry, that he was fine, but with the fear gripping his heart and the sound of yelling, of Bellatrix’s morbid song of “I Killed Sirius Black!” ricocheting between his ears. He felt like he was going to throw up if he did not get out now.

Zabini carefully pulled his hand from Harry, looking at him with worry. His hands were coming up to cup Harry’s cheeks, but the building panic became too much for him. The second soft fingertips grazed his chin Harry was out of his chair, a loud banging noise that he could not identify, drawing attention to him. His eyes looked at all of the others, though they did not truly see anyone, his vision going a bit black at the edges. He needed to get out.

So with his scuffed shoes, Harry quickly made his way out of the room, ripping his arm from Hermione’s grip when she attempted to stop him.

“Don’t touch me!” He hissed, hurrying out faster and storming through the main hall. He needed fresh air. The raven-haired teen broke through the front doors, gasping for air as he exited, but he still felt overwhelmed and the sparse people in the alley had looked his way in worry. He stumbled down the stairs and into the little alley next to the bank so he could have a little bit of privacy. Harry’s legs gave out once no one was looking at him, his back hitting the brick wall and slowly sliding down until he sat on his backside and he could duck his head between his legs.

And without a care for who found him or heard, Harry cried.

He cried for the father he had lost, for the friends who had betrayed him, for the unknown future that Sirius had prepared for him that he had no idea how to fit into. For his scuffed shoes and the pants that did not truly fit him. Sobs wracked Harry’s body, his grip on his legs leaving behind crescent-shaped marks.

He sobbed for the boy he never got to be.

Crying in a side street of Diagon Alley was not Harry’s finest moment. However, after all of the revelations he had found out today, it was warranted.

His godfather was actually his father, his friends had been stealing from him all this time, the mother figure that he looked up to a part of that stealing as well. Anyone who did not have the weight of the world already on this shoulders would crumble as well.

Footsteps begun to come to him, but Harry did not lift his head from his knees. It would probably be Hermione, her grating voice ready to reprimand him for not standing up for them. To make him feel bad about Sirius not leaving anything to them. He was not ready to hear how it was his fault that Sirius did not tell him about being his father. So the raven-haired boy kept his head down, even when the person stopped directly in front of him. Though he did startle a little as the feeling of magic wrapped around him, the noises of Diagon Alley fading away in the background.

“You dropped your book,” the deep voice of Blaise Zabini sounded above him. That must have been the loud bang that Harry heard. With confirmation that the person who had approached him was not his old friends - and safe in his assumption that Zabini would not let them come near him - Harry slowly lifted his head from his knees, wiping his eyes as he sat up. He had to tilted his head back against the wall in order to meet Zabini’s eyes, the other’s sharp jaw tense as he scanned Harry for any injury.

Zabini had donned a black robe over his suit now, looking as put together as he had in the meeting room. Harry was jealous that it was easy for the other to look so handsome, even his shoes shined. The younger teen’s eyes drifting behind Zabini where a thin shield of magic surrounded them. It shimmered if you focused on it, but it would be hard to see if you did not know it was there. His face must have shown his confusion because Zabini opened his mouth once more to explain.

“A shield spell, invented by my aunt. No one can see us unless I want them too.”

Harry stared in awe at the shield, wondering how his aunt had created the spell. Merlin, he did not even know that one could make spells! There was so much he needed to find out about this world still.

“Thank you,” Harry’s voice was barely audible, but from the tilt of Zabini’s head, the other had heard him just fine. “For grabbing my book. . . and the shield,” he continued, expertly leaving out the fact that Zabini had held his hand for a good portion of the will reading, providing him comfort that he did not even need to provide. Harry slowly pushed himself off the ground, jolting when Zabini’s hands connected with his arms and helped him up. Sensing his discomfort, the hands did not remain any longer than the time it took for Harry to get up straight. It made Harry’s head spin a little, the bouncing between semi-caring and the closed off mask. He had not met many Purebloods and definitely did not know anything about their marriage contract guidelines, but Zabini’s hot and cold methods confused him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

The question seemed to catch Zabini off guard, the taller boy sighing and avoiding Harry’s eyes for a few seconds. Was it such a great feat to answer Harry’s question?

“I am unsure how to act around you.”

It was Harry’s turn to be surprised, grey eyes widening at the words. But before he could question anymore, Zabini continued.

“I have known since I was young that you were to be my husband one day, it was a certainty in our household. Yet, when you did not become a Slytherin and despised everything from that house, I followed Draco’s lead. I could not tell you of our contract and you never sought to be my friend, so I knew you did not know. But then you signed the contract, you agreed to marry me when we are of age. Now, you are rightfully my betrothed and I must uphold certain appearances, lest people run their mouths,” Harry felt a pang of sadness that Zabini was suggesting that his comforting act in there had been just that, an act. He knew they would not fall in love or even like each other right away, but fake affection was not something that Harry had been accustomed to.

Well, at least fake affection that he was privy to. The sting of his friends’ betrayal was still very much present in that moment.

“Though, your father had just passed away and you learned all these troubling things, I had learned troubling things about your personal life that I had not known. I am rather. . . protective of you, whether you had signed that contract this morning or not. I had thought you were protected; Lord Black had promised me that you were safe. I am aware now that this is not the case. Seeing your discomfort and tears had an impact on me, my protective side, and I wanted nothing more than to curse all those who had done you wrong. Holding your hand is where I settled however.

I am nice to you because it is what you deserve, Potter and because you are to be my husband one day and I would like us to not hate each other. We are to be a united force in the Wizarding World, being cruel in your moment of need is not a behavior I would ever exercise. You are grieving the loss of your parent and working through the reveals of the day, the least I can do is provide support to you.”

Harry was speechless.

He had felt left out by not knowing anything, but what about Zabini? The other boy had to watch Harry from afar, knowing that his betrothed had no clue about their significance to each other. And having to pretend like he hated Harry, despite being told all his life that Harry would be his husband. He had not even stopped to think of how the other felt.

“You’re protective of me?”

“Of course, Potter.”

“Harry.”

Zabini’s face twisted into confusion as Harry said his own name, causing the raven-haired boy to laugh.

“If we are to be husbands one day, I think it would be appropriate for you to call me Harry. At least when we are alone?” Harry twisted his fingers in front of him as Zabini’s face morphed from confusion to something soft, something private that Harry was not exactly sure he deserved.

“Harry,” his name sounded like a pray on Zabini’s tongue, the elder dipping his chin towards his chest. It was a failed attempt to hide the smile on his lips, but Harry did not comment on it. Zabini’s head slowly came back up, looking back at Harry. “You may call me Blaise then. When we are alone or around trusted people.” It was Harry’s turn to smile shyly.

Zabini. Blaise. Yes, Harry liked using his first name already.

“Can I have my book, Blaise?” Harry asked, hand gesturing to the journal in Blaise’s hand. The Slytherin nodded, having forgot that he even had the book. He handed it over to Harry, the raven-haired boy holding it close to his chest.

“Lupin attempted to grab it but I got to it first.” Mention of Remus had Harry frowning, but he nodded at the information. Yes, it would seem Remus was not to be trusted. It was a sad thing, Remus was the last of his parents’ friends and he would not be able to ask him about them anymore but Sirius had warned him and it had come true.

“Thank you for grabbing it…You wanted to talk after the reading, didn’t you?” Harry was determined to focus on something that was not negative. That would come later when he was not around others.

“Yes, I did.” Blaise hummed, pulling a small box from his pocket that had Harry’s breath catching in his throat. “Don’t be nervous,” the Slytherin chuckled, reaching for Harry’s free hand and placing the box in his palm, opening it up for the Gryffindor.

In the velvet lining, a ring laid. It was a simple gold band, nothing decorating the outer band. He moved Sirius’ journal into the crook of his elbow, slowly pulling the ring out of the box. It was a very pretty ring, beautiful in its sleek way. He tipped the ring slightly to look at the inside, surprised to find an engraving there.

Ti voglio sempre al mio fianco.

Harry was unsure of the language, but he could guess that it was Italian just like Blaise and his mother were. Another thing to learn about added to his list.

“What does it mean?” Harry asked curiously, looking up at Blaise as the older boy pulled the box out of his hand and replaced it in his pocket.

“I always want you by my side. My mother had it engraved when I was eleven with what I hoped our union would be.” Blaise’s voice was soft, his gaze fond as he looked upon the ring in Harry’s fingers. It hit Harry again, just how much long Blaise had been waiting for Harry. He let a soft smile of his own grace his lips as he traced the delicate metal of the ring.

“Why are you giving this to me now?” Harry’s voice had a small tremble in it, wondering if this was a wedding ring. He had never seen anyone other than married people wear gold rings before so that must be what this is, right?

“When both parties sign the contract, they are effectively engaged… it is meant to be a two-year long engagement and we would get married after graduating. That is how it is traditionally done. When I found out you had signed the contract, I rushed to get the ring out of our vault to give it to you.”

Harry’s ears were hot as he listened to Blaise, ducking his head shyly. Though this time, slender fingers came up to tenderly grip his chin and lift his head up so they could look at each other once more.

“With my ring on your finger, you’ll be my fiancée.”

“I guess you should put it on my finger then?” Harry whispered, a coquettish smile slipping on his face. Blaise snorted at Harry’s question, nodding his head in agreement. The taller took the ring from Harry’s fingers and slipped it onto his left hand, keeping Harry’s eye contact as he pulled the raven-haired boy’s hand up and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles over the gold ring. Harry blushed further, twisting his hand so their fingers could lace together. The two stared at each other, focused on only each other. There was only Blaise and Harry in this moment. The two stood there for a long time, smiling shyly at each other. Harry imagined that they looked like a scene out of a romance movie with how they were only concerned with each other.

“Blaise, Mr. Potter-Black.”

Taehee’s voice startled the two out of their bubble, Harry resisting the urge to pout, though the fond look on Blaise’s face told him that he was not that successful. At the front of the side street stood Taehee, Hyejing, and Andromeda, the trio waiting patiently for the kids.

“He can sense the magic, his sister made the spell but he cannot see or hear us,” Blaise whispered to Harry, using their laced fingers to pull Harry close, the shorter boy flustering at being pulled in. Plush lips pressed against his cheeks, Harry letting out a soft gasp at the affection.

“Will you write to me?” The shorter nodded, in a state of shock. Blaise Zabini had just kissed his cheek and was holding his hand. Now he was asking him to write him during the remainder of the summer?

“I shall see you on the Hogwarts Express then? Come find me and sit with me?” Harry nodded once more, pulling back to look up at Blaise fully, it felt like the last time he would see the other and it made him rather sad to think about. “Until we meet then, Harry.” Pressing one more kiss to Harry’s knuckles before pulling away entirely, Blaise ended the spell around them, startling the three adults from how close they were.

“There you two are!” Andromeda smiled mischievously, eyeing Harry with curiosity in her eyes. Harry waved awkwardly, making his way to the front of the alley towards the trio. His eyes felt tired and dry from crying, but he was sure the rest of the day was to be busy. He still wanted to go shopping and he had a feeling that they would need to make a trip to Surrey for the last time to get his belongings. His residence with Andromeda would start today.

“Blaise, you know better than to be alone without a chaperone,” Hyejing admonished, though Harry could tell by the mirth in her eyes, that she did not particularly care about the rules. Further proving Harry’s point, she winked at him, her eyes glancing down at the rings on his hands. He unconsciously fidgeted with the gold ring which only seem to make Hyejing smile more. It was a little unsettling to see how much the Blaise and his mother smiled. He would have thought that they would be much like how the Malfoys were, stoic masks of indifference on their faces. Though Harry did not consider that now that he was engaged officially to Blaise that he would be considered family at this point.

“Sorry Mother. Privacy seemed like the better option at the time,” Blaise’s voice was soft as he spoke to his mother, one of his shoulders brushing against Harry from how close he stood. Harry thought of how nice it would feel to have the other wrap his arm around him, but pushed it down. He still did not know any of the traditions or expectations but he could guess that public displays of affection would not be welcomed.

“Just ensure it does not happen again,” Taehee responded this time, turning his attention to Harry fully. “Let me properly introduce myself, Mr. Potter-Black. I am Min Taehee, I am Hyejing’s father’s brother.” The brunet man held his hand out and Harry was quick to grab it and give it a shake.

“It is nice to meet you, sir.”

“Taehee will do Mr. Potter-Black, you are to be family soon enough,” the elder man had a small smile on his face. Harry could tell from the worry lines on his face that smiling was not something that he was familiar with and he felt a little honored that Taehee was smiling at him. Even if it was a fraction of a smile.

“Then you should call me Harry. Besides the engagement, I can see you were close to my go-father as well.” The smile turned sad at the mention of Sirius and even Andromeda reached over to rub Taehee’s shoulder. Harry would have never guessed that there was closeness between them to the allow easy affection, but Taehee seemed to appreciate the soft touch from the recently reinstated Black sister.

“Yes. Your father was a good man, Harry. It is a tragedy that Sirius gave his all to everything and never got the same in return, besides Lily and James of course.” Taehee looked off into the distance for a few seconds before blinking rapidly and bobbing his head down once as if nodding to his own thoughts. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry and to see my niece and nephew, and you too Dromeda, but I must be heading back to work.” Taehee leaned over to press a kiss to Hyejing’s cheek and clapped Blaise on the shoulder, giving him a pointed look. He offered both Andromeda and Harry a nod before he began to walk down the Alley, disapparating a few feet in front of The Leaky Cauldron.

“We should be heading off as well, Blaise. Andromeda has told me of the packed afternoon her and Harry have.” Hyejing hummed, inclining her head to her son. Harry glanced at the Slytherin, noticing the reluctant look to his face. It was surprising how well he was getting at reading the nonverbal communication off of Blaise’s face. He imagined how he would improve the more time he spent with Blaise.

“Yes, Mother.” The two women stepped away from the teenagers, letting them say their goodbyes in private. They moved to the other side of the street, close to Magical Menagerie but still within sight of the two teens.

Blaise turned to look at Harry once more, the small smile that Harry was beginning to think belonged to the Min side of the Zabinis once more on his lips. As if the mere sight of Harry was endearing. It did things to the teens stomach, having the other stare at him like he meant a lot to him.

“I suppose we are to depart now?” Blaise said softly, Harry stifling his laugh when he saw that the other was practically pouting.

“It would seem so,” Harry teased, a wide smile slipping on his lips when Blaise knocked him with his shoulder for his teasing. It felt good to finally smile, something that he had not down in so long. He was nowhere near over Sirius’ death, especially after the revelations today, but he was sure that his father would want him to be happy. There was no reason why he could not do both.

“You must write to me, you said you would,” the taller pointed out, Harry easily reassuring him he would. He would write Blaise a letter every day if that is what the other wanted. He still had a ton to learn and he had a feeling these letters would make up for the time that Harry had missed. To think he was supposed to be engaged since last summer. He might have had someone on his side during the whole Umbridge thing. . .

There was no use focusing on the past. There was no changing it. But he could use what he learned to better his future.

“Here,” the Slytherin took off his black cloak and wrapped it around Harry’s shoulders, fixing it so it laid neatly. Harry looked at him in confusion and was about to voice his question when Blaise beat him to it.

“You have dirt on your pants from the ground.”

The raven haired boy blushed, pulling the cloak around his arms tighter. Blaise was nicer than most had ever been to Harry.

“Why were you looking?” But the shorter man could not help but tease his fiancée, watching him duck his head in shyness, pressing his lips together to hold in whatever he was going to say. Harry laughed once more and shook his head at the other. “Thank you,” He decided to use some of his Gryffindor courage and lean up on his toes to press a kiss to the Slytherin’s cheek. The small smile returned once more and Harry returned it. Blaise glanced over to his mother and Andromeda before leaning in to press a kiss of his own to Harry’s cheek.

“I shall see you on the train then?” Harry nodded, his smile turning shy. Blaise pulled away and made to head to his mother, but the shorter boy caught his wrist quickly a thought occuring to him. Blaise stumbled a little at the tight grip, turning to look at Harry in confusion.

“Wait, I am planning on going shopping for new clothes. . . Is there anything against wearing Zabini colors?” Harry asked, voice growing quieter as he spoke. He did not even know what their family colors even where but he wanted to ask. The shorter teen, looked down at his feet, the scuffs on his shoes staring back at him in a taunting manner. That would be the first thing he bought.

The slender fingers lifted his chin once more, the other teen smiling at Harry.

“It is not traditional. . .Usually myself or my family will gift you clothing in our family colors, but they are gold and purple if you just so happen to buy those clothes, well than that was just a small coincidence, yeah?” Blaise had a mischievous smile on his lips, looking rather similar to his mother in that moment. Harry could see that Blaise took greatly after his mother when it came to appearances. The shorter man grinned back at the other’s suggestion, nodding his head in Blaise’s hand. The taller hummed, leaning forward to kiss Harry’s cheek once more. The teens pulled apart and made their way towards the women.

“Done kissing cheeks then?” Hyejing teased softly, giggling as her son and Harry blushed and rubbed the back of their necks. “It is quite alright; I remember when I was betrothed to Blaise’s father. My father would chase him around with hexes if he so much as held my hand in front of him.” Harry smiled at Hyejing’s attempt to get rid of his embarassment but it only made him more nervous to meet the rest of Blaise’s family.

“Grandfather could just stare him down and intimidate him,” Blaise teased, Hyejing smiling fondly at the memories in her head.

“Yes, yes he could. My father has a stare that could intimidate even the most confident man.” The group shared a small laugh at that before Hyejing hummed and stepped closer to shake Harry’s hand.

“It was very nice to meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances. Feel free to write with any questions, whether they be about the engagement, our family, or even Sirius. . . He was a dear friend,” Hyejing finished with a tone of sadness, reaching up to rub Harry’s shoulder before stepping to the side and linking her arm with Blaise’s.

“It was nice to see you again too Andromeda.”

“You too Hyejing. Don’t be a stranger, I am sure the boys would enjoy a visit.” Andromeda teased, watching Harry blush more while Blaise looked hopeful.

“I shall be in touch then,” Hyejing smiled.

“It was nice to meet you, Lady Tonks. I will see you later Harry,” Blaise murmured mask back in place, but his eyes gave him away once more. Harry waved to the two with Andromeda before the Zabinis’ turned and made their way down the alley. Unlike Taehee, they had entered the Leaky Cauldron instead of disapparating in the middle of the alley. Now it was just Andromeda and Harry.

“It was nice that Taehee was summoned and left Grimmauld Place,” Andromeda murmured softly, a sad smile on her face as she stared off down the Alley.

“How. . . I guessed from what Sirius said in the will, but how is he?” Harry trailed off, not exactly sure if he was supposed to be asking. The will and the others seemed to know his relation to the Black Family and Harry wanted to know what the connection was. Andromeda smiled at him and reached over to rub his shoulders.

“Never be afraid of asking me things, Harry. I am here to help. Min Taehee was close with Regulus, Reggie as Sirius called him. The two were thought to be soulmates and Taehee’s father had even written a marriage contract between them. But when Regulus went missing, Taehee was rather upset and would not talk to anyone but his family. And Sirius. He asked Sirius almost every week if there was news on Regulus. A tragic love story,” Andromeda answered, shaking her head slightly.

Hearing the background for Taehee made Harry feel a little bit better about the brunet man. He had seemed rather closed off, but hearing why made a lot of sense.

“He even followed the lawyer career path when he heard about Sirius, hoping to help him get out of Azkaban. But he did not gain enough respect and prestige until a few years ago and Sirius had escaped by the time he got the case on his desk.” Harry nodded at the words, his stomach tightening at the knowledge. Someone had been in Sirius’ corner this whole time. Taehee had believed in Sirius all these years.

“I like him. I am glad that Sirius did not forget about him.” Harry hummed, fiddling with Blaise’s cloak. It must have had a charm on it to keep Harry from getting to warm in the summer sun.

“And how do you like the Zabinis?”Harry blushed at the mention of the Zabinis, biting his lip.

“Hyejing seems really nice, despite whatever rumors had been going around Hogwarts. And Blaise? I like him too,” Harry left it as that, his neck burning as he talked about his fiancée.“

Yes, he seems like a nice young man. A good fit for you. Sirius had always been a good judge of character. Now let us get going, we have a lot to do,” Andromeda smiled, the same motherly smile from earlier. Harry held his arm out for her like how Blaise had done for his mother, taking pleasure in seeing her blush before she wrapped her arm in Harry’s.

And off the two went, into a new direction for both of their lives.