Chapter Text
Harry began paying attention again when two of the older Black ladies began squabbling over something or other to the point that they actually began throwing hexes. He watched wide-eyed until Arcturus ended the spat by slamming his hand on the table and demanding they put their wands away.
The Black patriarch tucked a stray hair behind his ear as he sat down again, smoothing out his robes. “Now that we’ve all remembered how to act like civilized witches and wizards again,” he said in a censuring tone, “perhaps we could get back to the family business. Are there any other serious matters we need to discuss?”
Beside Orion and Walburga, Cygnus Black cleared his throat. Harry remembered from his lessons that he was the father of Bellatrix and the two sixth-year twins.
“We have yet to discuss marriage contracts for Andromeda and Narcissa. Bellatrix was already betrothed by the end of her fourth year of Hogwarts—” In the background, Harry noticed Bellatrix make a face “—and yet my younger daughters have not even had their offers reviewed. In addition, neither girl has met her soul match yet, so we cannot know whether their soulmates will be appropriate partners either.”
Harry noticed the sharp, almost angry looks exchanged between Cygnus and his wife, and suddenly realized the wife must have been the one to postpone this. Perhaps she didn’t agree with marriage contracts?
Arcturus nodded slowly. “A wise proposal. I assume you have some offers already, and that is why you’ve recommended I look into the matter?”
Cygnus nodded sharply. “Yes, that is correct, my lord.”
From his pocket, he produced a large leather folder stuffed with parchment. He slid it down the table to Arcturus, who opened it and began to flip through the stack of what Harry could see were letters offering various things in exchange for the hand of a daughter of House Black in marriage, all crisp and smooth and covered in elegant handwriting. Harry read the offers over Arcturus’ shoulder curiously, Orion on the other side also looking them over. It was all formal language and business deals. Harry didn’t much like it, but Melania had waxed eloquent about the benefits of a proper marriage contract for the girl being contracted when he’d dared to offer his opinions on the matter a few weeks ago.
Apparently, such contracts could ensure the girl’s money and social status stayed intact or improved according to her marriage. All marriage contracts laid out a list of options that would ensure if ever mistreated or otherwise slighted, the girl could always return to her family’s House with little to no legal or social consequences, often even keeping her children. Ministry law had the children always remaining with the father unless such clauses in a marriage contract were in place. So Harry could see there were some benefits, but there were also plenty of disadvantages.
Such as the fact that despite planning these two girls’ futures, the twins were not present to offer their opinions.
Curious, Harry noticed a tiny corner of parchment that looked anything but crisp and smooth sticking out from the back of the large leather binder. He realized, after pulling a bit at the corner and opening the folder up some more, that there was one offer buried at the bottom of the stack that looked…odd. Harry saw with bewilderment that it wasn’t even properly in the stack, tucked into a back flap of the folder as if to hide it. Harry began to slide it out of the stack, and Arcturus and Orion sat back, looking curious. When Harry got it out, he realized the letter had been crumpled, balled up as if to be thrown away, before being smoothed out again, which was why it looked so odd.
This letter was not at all like the ones at the top of the stack, offering money and business connections and foreign trade deals. The letter began simply and humbly, but with a good deal of compliments — properly laid out according to what Harry’s etiquette lessons had taught him too — for both Cygnus and the Black Family. Then, it went into the offer…which admittedly was fairly one-sided. The offer was to love, cherish, and worship Andromeda, Daughter of House Black, with everything the writer had, to provide her with the life she should have according to her station even if he had to work day and night to make it so, and for all children born from his and Andromeda’s union to belong solely to the House of Black, instead of choosing to start a new House of his own.
It was signed Theodore Tonks, First of his Name, Healer’s Apprentice in the Hogwarts Infirmary. There was also a post-script from Andromeda, mentioning she would also be sending her father a letter regarding this betrothal offer.
Harry glanced up at Cygnus, whose fists were clenched and his lips pressed together, tight and furious. His eyes were like chips of ice, but angry fire burned in their depths.
“From my lessons,” Harry said slowly, “marriage offers should be presented to the House lord from least to greatest. By that custom, I suppose you were right to put this one at the end.”
Arcturus made an interested noise and took the letter from Harry. He read it slowly, his eyebrows climbing. Orion, reading it over his shoulder, began to throw startled looks at Harry. All the other Blacks were looking between Harry, the two Blacks at the head of the table, and Cygnus in curiosity and bewilderment. Next to the furious man his wife sat looking vindictively amused. Harry wondered if she’d known about this offer and had perhaps supported it.
The Lord Black sat back in his chair, gazing up at Cygnus mildly. “May I see Andromeda’s letter?” he asked. His words were calm, but his eyes said he knew exactly what Cygnus wanted him to do with this betrothal offer, and he was unhappy with the attempted meddling to make it so.
Harry knew after a month or so of time spent with Arcturus that he was a prideful, deeply traditional man. Intolerant of muggleborns, perhaps, but he’d listen to any argument contrary to his own so long as he could marshal his own counterarguments later. Cygnus had been revealed to be trying to blatantly manipulate the head of his house. Regardless of whether Arcturus would on his own have discarded a betrothal offer from a muggleborn boy, the formidable Lord Black would never stand for such disrespect from a member of his house.
After a few moments of furious glaring at Harry, Cygnus produced the letter and it was passed down the table to Arcturus. Harry read it over his shoulder and had to repress a grin. Oh, Tonks was apparently just like her mother. The letter was ridiculously snarky, full of subtle barbs towards her father and even subtler pleas for Arcturus, whom she must have known would have asked to see the letter if he ever actually saw Ted Tonks’ betrothal proposal, to listen to what she wanted and give her the marriage she wished for. She also admitted in the first few paragraphs that Theodore Tonks was her soulmate, and she would have him or no other.
The rest of the letter baldly laid out exactly what Andromeda would do if she were betrothed to anyone but her soulmate—nearly two pages of dire threats to do something drastic like castrate her unwanted betrothed, or even run away and elope in the muggle world, shock and horror—and that she honestly didn’t care if she was disowned for chasing what she wanted.
Arcturus read the letter slowly, his frown deepening. Then, he deliberately set the letter down and turned to Harry.
“What do you think of this, my young nephew?”
Harry blinked. For a moment he was confused, and then he saw the calculating glint in the man’s eye, the eager look Walburga had combined with Dorea’s oncoming train wreck stare, both expecting him to crash and burn. This was, like many things Arcturus had placed before Harry recently, a test of how well he could navigate the family. In particular, Harry was starkly aware his personal beliefs were quite opposed to the general consensus the other Blacks would have in response to this betrothal offer. But could he put what he wanted to happen to the family without causing them to all-but revolt? A lord was useless if he couldn’t lead his family in the direction he wanted to go, and that was what Arcturus wanted to see if Harry could do.
His eyes met Orion’s for a moment in a panic, but then suddenly he was calm. Sirius’ gentle grey eyes stared back at him. Oh, Orion lacked the dementor-induced shadows, the subtle edge of war-torn grief never mended, but those were his godfather’s eyes. Harry thought of Sirius, his Sirius whom Harry was determined would never exist in this new timeline.
Suddenly, he knew exactly what to do.
“To me,” Harry said slowly and carefully, ever conscious of both his words and his artificial accent, “this sounds like an opportunity for the House of Black.”
Down the table, Cygnus spluttered. Orion sat back, satisfied, while Arcturus raised a single eyebrow. “Opportunity?” he asked.
Harry smiled thinly. He was sure Arcturus had no idea where he was going with this, and he looked forward to surprising the man.
“Well, from the sounds of it…this is an offer of vassalage.”
Curious noises ran up and down the table of Blacks, the majority of whom still had no idea what the two letters were about. Arcturus blinked once, clearly thrown, and Harry mentally punched the air. “Why do you say that, Henry?” Orion asked, picking up from where his father had left off as Arcturus quietly recovered from his mental derailing.
“The letter is from a young man, first of his name,” —which Harry had been taught always meant muggleborn in this day and age— “and his offer includes giving House Black full authority over future generations of his House. Isn’t that what you only just explained to me, Cousin Orion? It sounds like an offer of vassalage.”
Orion was fighting a smile. “I must admit, in that light, it does.” Walburga hissed something angrily in his ear, and his smile dropped, his whole face drooping. Before she could ruin Harry’s idea, though, the boy jumped ahead of her by turning to Arcturus.
“Don’t you think so, Uncle?” he asked.
Arcturus picked up the letter with thumb and forefinger. “In this, it claims he would be willing to give up his own name and right to begin his own House, in exchange for Andromeda’s hand in marriage.”
“Well, that’s only his first offer, isn’t it?” Harry rejoined. “He’s going to give the grandest concessions first in the hopes that you hear his offer at all.”
“As if he would,” Walburga spat, clearly incensed. “As if any lord of House Black would sully our lines by bringing a mudblood into the House.”
“Firstly,” Harry snapped back as coolly as he could manage, “you watch your tongue, Walburga. We’re at a noble family gathering, not out for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. I had been told we were to treat these gatherings with respect and dignity, not vulgarity.” The flush that crept up her neck told Harry he’d scored a hit, and he continued with more composure.
“Besides, as your husband told me not too long ago in this very meeting, House Black has in the past sullied its lines with muggleborn vassals, so I don’t see why this offer is such a heinous thing. He may be the first in his family to have magic, but he clearly wants to join wizarding society fully. He wants to better himself, and isn’t that the best solution? I mean, you can’t kill them all, that would be both ridiculous and cause too much public outcry. If you can’t be rid of them, you should put them to use.”
At least, that seemed to be Melania’s viewpoint. And the family seemed quite aware of that, as glances were thrown at her, looking approvingly at Harry from the opposite end of the table. And phrasing “why can’t we all just get along” in Lady Black’s terms wouldn’t have this pack of purebloods wanting to lynch him.
“Personally,” Harry continued, “I think that makes this the most valuable betrothal in the lot. What do trade deals for a single generation, or lump sums of money and land, compare to generations of loyalty?”
Arcturus set the letter down and from the way he looked impressed Harry knew he’d actually managed to convince him.
“I quite agree,” Arcturus said softly. “Loyalty is one currency that will outlast all others. Perhaps it is time for the Blacks to gain new vassalage once again. Your reasoning was very well argued, my Heir.” He glanced down the table, where very few people looked pleased. “Young Andromeda’s letter was her declaration, and in it she admitted to aiding that muggleborn boy in writing his proposal, because he is her soulmate. Andromeda has always been a canny young girl. I do not think such a clever young witch would abandon all sense over even her soul’s mate. Surely, she sees some value he could prove to our House.”
Harry marvelled at how, with just a few words, Arcturus managed to turn those unhappy faces into thoughtful ones. He’d have to learn how to do that, he thought to himself. It was amazing! Arcturus turned back to his “nephew”. “I think perhaps during your lesson on vassals in two weeks, you will help me to draft a new marriage betrothal arrangement between our Andromeda and young Theodore Tonks.”
He’d actually changed something! Harry was almost breathless from the weight of what had just happened. In the timeline he’d been born into, Andromeda had run away (possibly after gelding some poor hapless pureblood boy) with Ted Tonks and they had eloped in the muggle world. Without the money from a dowry and outright blacklisting from the Blacks in high society, neither newlywed had been able to continue in Healer training past Hogwarts graduation, and the pair had scraped and scrounged to attend muggle university together. Tonks had been a surprise born early and had grown up in near poverty until her parents had both found decently paying employment in the muggle world. Here, it wouldn’t be like that. Here, they would both have the full weight of the Black family behind him.
Orion was nodding at Harry, his courage found again and Walburga sitting sullenly beside him. Despite knowing it was a break in protocol, Harry couldn’t help the beaming smile that spread across his face at the compliment.
Then, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He felt a magical warmth wash over him from head to toe in the increasingly familiar sensation of the soul-blood protection’s activation. Gold and red surged from his skin, one misty form catching a spell aimed under the table with a raised hand as the other surged forward—to Cygnus.
“Just hold him!” Harry exclaimed, half-standing and raising a hand in protest. To his astonishment, the magic paused, the ghost of his father seemingly recognizing the request and hesitating a moment before simply disarming the man and freezing him in place. Cygnus’ wand was laid gently before Harry.
He could feel all eyes on him, and he desperately wanted to hide. Dorea caught his eye and laid a hand over her mouth. At the reminder he was allowed to go mute if he was uncomfortable, he clamped his jaws shut.
Cygnus was frozen, but Walburga and her mother were both spluttering. “What on earth—” “What do you think you’re doing!?”
“Harry didn’t do anything!” Dorea said defiantly. “Lycoris took understandable measures to protect her only son in a dangerous location like the wilds of Australia, and Cygnus could only have run afoul of them if he’d tried to harm Harry in any way.”
That brought silence to the stunned table. Arcturus was the one who took action, claiming Cygnus’ wand from the table in front of Harry and then pulling out his own wand to petrify Cygnus. The soul-blood protection, seemingly sensing Harry’s safety now that the old Lord Black was standing, drew back and misted back into Harry’s skin, sleeping until the next time they were needed. It was Cassiopeia who spoke.
“Measures? That looked like an old Black blood protection to me.”
Harry spoke with his hands instead of his mouth, and Dorea translated. “We think it is. I was practicing duelling yesterday and had an old soul-blood spell cast on me. After that, this began to happen.”
“Yes,” Dorea agreed. “We think it’s an ancestral protection spell calling on the spirits of past Blacks to safeguard a young member from harm. He can’t play Quidditch right now at all; the magic just stops the Bludgers cold.”
“I’m surprised a protective spell such as that would allow him to fly in the first place,” Pollux said gravely from next to Harry.
Harry managed to unclench his jaw enough to address his unknowing other great-grand-godfather. “It doesn’t seem to register flight as a danger at all,” he admitted, “but then I’m a fairly good flier and I’ve not tried any dangerous stunts since this began happening. We’re hoping to find a way for me to control it.”
“But it only just appeared?” Cassiopeia said intently.
Dorea nodded. “Yes, his OWLs are coming up and we were practicing his duelling. I used several old family spells, both blood and soul magic—we’re not sure which one actually reawakened his protection.” As Dorea was a fantastic dueller, this was a believable lie to tell.
Walburga’s mother huffed. “Well then, I don’t see how you could say it was anything Lycoris did!”
“It has his mother’s magical signature all over it!” Dorea retorted to her sister-in-law, exasperated.
“It must have been disrupted,” Cassiopeia cut in. “Old spells like that are often delicate. The slightest error could have disrupted its intended function for years until a chance cleansing allowed the magic to act in full once again.”
“That seems to be a topic for Black study,” Arcturus said firmly, over top of the discussions happening quietly and curiously around the table. “I want as many of the Black women as are willing to join Dorea and Cassiopeia in researching old Black protective enchantments. All research can be passed to Henry through Dorea, as he’s living at Potter Manse. But for now, we have a more serious issue to resolve.”
The table quieted again. Arcturus turned to Cygnus, murmuring a spell which unfroze his head and shoulders, but kept the rest of his body petrified. Cygnus blinked owlishly for several moments before he realized the position he was in. The realization that he’d been caught only took a few seconds to sink in, his eyes widening and his face falling.
“Cygnus Nigellus Black,” the Lord Black said softly. “You just attacked not only a junior member of your own house, but one I have made very clear in this meeting is to be treated as the Heir and future Lord of this House. And this after lying to your lord about the status of one of your daughters’ soulmarks and attempting to manipulate the decisions of your Lord regarding the marriage of a Daughter of our House. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Cygnus’ face turned ugly, but he clearly knew anything he said about vile mudbloods and whatnot would just land him in hotter water right now, and he said nothing.
“Anything?” Arcturus asked, still in a tone as mild as milk. “No?”
His young cousin simply blinked and glared. Pollux harrumphed, meeting Arcturus’ eye around Harry. The teen leaned back as Arcturus seemed to reach silent agreement with the man, and the lord stood silent as Cygnus’ father came slowly to his feet.
“I,” Pollux said in a harsh voice, “have never been more ashamed of a member of my line. To have opposed this betrothal offer was understandable, but your concerns and desires should have been laid before your lord. I would never do such a thing as you have done.” His eyes landed on Walburga. “And don’t think I am unaware of who may have given you such ideas of interference.”
Walburga, in her seat, flushed and looked down, clearly signalling Pollux had been right and she had helped Cygnus come up with this plan.
“And regardless of any such plans, you attacked a child younger than your own, a Black who has only just been welcomed into our family. Our Heir! How dare you! That boy was only doing as a dutiful Heir should—pointing out that which his Lord had missed, and he was clearly thinking only of the furtherment of our family. As you should have been! Do you not realize you could be disowned for your actions? You sat here, claiming to wish to protect your daughters’ futures, while you put those same futures in danger! If you were disowned, all children of your line would be taken in by your wife’s family! We would lose two Daughters of the House to the empowerment of another family. And you…you would lose everything!”
Harry sat, wide-eyed, as Pollux tore into Cygnus from across the table. The older wizard turned to Arcturus and bowed.
“My Lord, I apologize for my foolish and disobedient offspring. For his punishment, I would suggest confinement, and the removal of his daughters into my own house, as he has clearly proven he would put their status in jeopardy in order to further his personal political agenda.”
Arcturus nodded slowly. “And what is your opinion of this marriage offer, Cousin Pollux?”
Pollux grimaced, but glanced down at Harry. His gaze softened somewhat. “I am loath to allow any mud-ggleborn such access to my granddaughter, but Lycoris’ son makes excellent points. Lestrange is secured for another several generations, but Bartemius Crouch disagrees with the family agenda and if given the chance would cut his family away from our own. More vassalage would be a valuable thing to ensure our family remains at the forefront of society. I too agree that loyalty is a currency more valuable than money or land.” He grimaced. “In fact, were it anything but a boy first of his name, I’d be jumping at the idea that my bloodline could start a new vassal house for our family. Even more so, I would never separate young Andromeda from her soulmate.”
The Lord Black nodded again. “So be it,” he said. He turned furious eyes on Cygnus. “Cygnus Nigellus Black, for your actions here today I confine you to your home until the next Black Family Gathering. You are forbidden to entertain or to send out letters, and your wife will not be allowed to relay messages for you when she goes out. Furthermore, your daughters will be moved into the care of their grandfather Pollux until such time as they have married to better our House, and you will not be permitted to help in the choosing of either girl’s future.”
Harry could feel magic heavy in the air, the wards thrumming dangerously in the background, and he knew something important had just happened. Still, he wondered…how exactly could Arcturus enforce all of that?
Then, the moment had passed, and Arcturus just looked angry instead of frightening. With a flick of his wand Cygnus was freed from his restraints. Arcturus pointed at the door. “You are dismissed from this gathering, young man,” the Lord Black finished.
Cygnus looked a mixture of enraged and mortified. He stood, bowed to his father and his lord, and fled the room. If he’d been a teenager, Harry had the feeling he’d have been in tears.
Walburga, surprisingly, didn’t say a word of protest, nor did her mother, both clearly recognizing the severity of the situation. Once Cygnus’ footsteps had faded down the stairs, Arcturus shut the door with another flick of his wand and sat down again, Pollux sitting as well.
He heaved a sigh. Pollux looked weary.
“Well,” Arcturus said, “We still have Narcissa’s requests to go over. Can we please do so civilly and with no tricks, this time?”
* * *
After much discussion of the various contracts offered either specifically for Narcissa, or for either of the twin girls, Arcturus, Orion, and Pollux settled on what they saw as the best offer—from one Abraxas Malfoy, requesting a Daughter of House Black to marry his son in exchange for an alliance for the next fifty years, a French winery and chateau, and an exorbitant amount of money as bride-price. Harry had rather expected it, but he couldn’t help but fidget. He remembered again that glimpse of Malfoy’s mom he’d gotten.
Harry had learnt by now that there was a difference between public and private attitudes for pureblood nobles like the Blacks, but he recalled the beautiful blonde woman, tall and slim, who would have been nice-looking if she hadn’t been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose. Probably that moment in particular had been because she’d been confronted with a pack of blood-traitor Weasleys sitting near her nice seats in the Minister’s box, but he’d caught glimpses of her all through the game as well.
She’d been properly enthused for it, pale grey eyes alight eagerly even as she sat with unchanging poise. But, while she’d given her son indulgent smiles over his own excitement, she’d not once glanced at her husband, and they’d not touched in any way. Even her escort to her seat had been done by her son, not by Lucius. Maybe they’d just had an argument recently, maybe she’d known about the Death Eater riot about to happen and disapproved, but at the time, Harry hadn’t been able to dispel the feeling that she was…rather unhappy. And he knew for a fact that Lucius and Narcissa weren’t soulmates. In fact, Lucius still had his bracelet, even twenty years from now. Lucius did…but Narcissa didn’t.
“Something troubling you, young Heir?” Pollux asked him. Harry blinked and looked up.
He hesitated, unsure of how to put this. Then, he glanced down the table at Bellatrix, who looked as blank as a marble statue while her eyes blazed angrily at all this talk of selling her sister for such wealth. Harry opened his mouth, and said, “I know I am still learning a great deal about proper society, but…it bothers me that we aren’t even asking the girls’ opinions, I suppose.” He glanced up at Arcturus, growing bolder as nobody scoffed at him. “I mean, if you’d never noticed Cygnus’ bid to manipulate Andromeda’s contract, you wouldn’t have even known about that letter where she made her own wants and desires very clear. What…what would happen if she went through with her threats?”
Arcturus’ eyebrows went up. “Well, if I hadn’t known about her letter, I would have seen it as disrespect and rebellion, I suppose. This letter is a declaration of intent—you’ll be learning how to write one soon. With it, she is telling her Lord what she will and will not concede to. Any member of the House is allowed to write such a letter, or make such a declaration in person, and the Lord is honour-bound to listen as protector of the House so long as it is done well before any decisions are made by the Lord. But if I hadn’t known such a declaration had been made, I would not have known she was acting such because of her soulmate. She likely would be disowned if she actually did as she claimed she would in this declaration, in that case. It is part of why Cygnus’ actions could not be allowed. All declarations of intent must be handed over to me immediately, and the date mark for this letter was over a month ago.”
“He would have ruined her life because she wouldn’t have gotten the chance to give her declaration in person before a decision had been made,” Harry said softly. “That…that isn’t right, that he could do something like that.”
Arcturus and Pollux both regarded him. “What are you suggesting?” Orion was the one to ask.
“…perhaps a trial period?” Harry suggested swiftly, words tumbling over one another. “Give each girl…a year, to change her mind. They graduate at the end of the next school year, don’t they? Give them both until graduation to choose whether to go through with the betrothal or not.” He glanced at Pollux, another idea occurring. He knew because of Tonks and the things she’d told him that her parents had a romantic soulmate bond, but from his first-year lessons he knew a soul bond took months, sometimes years to settle into what sort of relationship the bond was intended to be. Since nobody but him knew it was romantic, yet…he could suggest something to sweeten this new idea to the old Blacks.
“Perhaps Andromeda will withdraw her declaration after she’s been given time to think about it. She might decide she and her soulmate will be better off as friends—their bond is probably still new, since nobody knew of it. They probably aren’t sure what kind of bond they have, yet. But we won’t know one way or another how the twins see their own betrothals unless they are given the chance to speak.”
Pollux nodded slowly. “A sensible idea,” he said. “I know arrangements can often be a controversial subject with young witches not yet aware of their value to our House.”
The table quieted when the Lady of the house spoke. “Personally, I adore the idea,” Melania said. The old woman smiled. “Perhaps we should make such standard, for our family contracts in the future.”
But in the end, Arcturus was the one who would decide. He sat thoughtfully, tapping the Malfoy marriage proposal. Eventually, he nodded.
“Very well. Each family loses daughters every few generations because they would rather be disowned for following their soulmark or their own hearts rather than marry for duty. Lycoris herself was one such, and all of you in my generation remember Cedrella. A few even know the story of Great-Aunt Isla, who ran to the muggle world in destitution rather than marry a man later imprisoned in Azkaban for familial abuse because her grandfather disregarded her declaration of intent. This policy will be good for our family, I believe.”
He laid a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Well done, nephew.”
Harry once again couldn’t repress the bright smile the compliment prompted.
“Perhaps we shall rewrite both contracts together?” Pollux suggested. “You mentioned writing Andromeda’s at one of the boy’s lordship lessons?”
Arcturus nodded. “We hold them every Sunday. This upcoming lesson will be covering ball etiquette, in preparation for the Summer Soirée, and the next Sunday was when we intended to go over vassalage, alliances, and trade.”
“Oh! Could I help with the etiquette lesson, my lord, please?” Bellatrix pleaded.
Melania, sitting not three seats from her, smiled broadly. “Why, that’s a wonderful idea, isn’t it, my love? It will be good for him to have a young woman as a dancing partner. My old joints aren’t what they used to be.”
“And I would offer my aid on his next lesson,” Pollux added. “We can add in marriage and betrothal contracts to the lesson plan for that day.”
Harry watched, bewildered, as suddenly a flurry of questions erupted around him, all asking about his lesson plan, asking to help teach him.
Pollux glanced down and seemed to notice his pale face and mute bewilderment. “Something wrong, lad?” the older wizard asked.
Harry’s mouth opened and closed mutely. He signed his answer in the face of his consternation and stared down at the table embarrassedly.
He could almost feel the entire table turn to Dorea. “He’s just a bit overwhelmed at the attention. I doubt those Gringotts cursebreakers he lived with after Lycoris died fussed over him at all,” she said, and Harry felt a wave of relief. He still didn’t know why he’d signed what he actually felt.
I don’t understand why everyone cares so much.
He still felt a flush creep up his neck when Dorea’s actual answer prompted a chorus of “awws” from the women in the room.
* * *
It was after the meeting was officially at an end and people were just standing in groups socializing that Harry went up to Arcturus. He’d only just escaped Bellatrix, who’d hugged him tightly and breathed a “thank you for taking care of my sisters, Heir Black,” in his ear. Walburga on the other side of the room was glaring daggers at Harry still, but he didn’t let that bother him.
Arcturus, who had delegated organizing aid for Harry’s lessons to Orion, was packing up the marriage proposals stacked at his end of the table. “Um, sir?” Harry asked timidly.
The man glanced at him. “Yes? Do you need something, Harry?”
“I-I was just wondering,” Harry said. “I was wondering how you know Cygnus is going to do what you told him to. If he’s really opposed, what’s to stop him from rebelling? You always tell me I’m going to have to learn to navigate the family because a lord cannot lead when his house disagrees with him, but…”
Arcturus huffed a quiet laugh.
“Between your maturity and cleverness, I often forget you were not raised in our world. Harry, while it is true a House can rebel, they can only do so if given the leeway to do so. Every bloodline member of our House is bound up in loyalty oaths and soul-blood ties, similar to how those of vassalage are bound but much more tightly. And legally, when a family is listed in the Ministry or with the ICW as a Wizarding House, all assets and members of the family are under the direct control of the lord. It is modelled after the paterfamilias of ancient Rome. Cygnus knows if he disobeys me, I could cut him off from his accounts or even legally imprison him in a family dungeon for his disobedience. Moreover, I made my words a direct order.”
He hesitated. “Ordinarily, an Heir would not be told this until they are grown, but the oaths and bindings taken in childhood for members of our House and our vassals ensure that if the Lord gives a direct order, the House is compelled to obey. A good Lord is sparing with his orders, of course, lest he be seen a tyrant. That is, in fact, the first true order I had ever given in my time as Lord Black.”
Harry’s eyes were huge. “Oh,” he exclaimed quietly, “I didn’t know—”
“Of course you didn’t,” Arcturus said. “From what you have told me, Sirius ran away while still Heir’s Heir, and was estranged from the family when his father died, and in Azkaban when I died. He would have had no idea, and thus he would not have been able to tell you.”
Harry was quiet and thoughtful as the man called for an elf to take the leather binder of parchment and put it in his office back in France.
“By…by the way,” he said just before Arcturus walked away, presumably to socialize, “What’s the…um…Summer Soirée and why do I need to learn more etiquette for it?”
The man’s eyes glinted almost mischievously. “Oh, it’s just the largest Ministry party of the summer,” he said. “It’s in three weeks, and Melania heard from her ladies’ group that Lord Astor offered up his castle for the event. I’ve decided to take you so, of course, I have to be sure you can dance and know all the social niceties of a high-society Event.”
Harry stared at him in dismay. “A party?” he managed to squeak out, flash-backs to the Yule Ball raising his apprehension to incredible heights.
Arcturus clapped him on the shoulder again, that hint of mischief still dancing in his eyes. “Don’t worry lad,” he said bracingly. “If you can manage a pack of Blacks the way you did today, a party will be a piece of cake.”
Harry was doomed. Definitely, definitely doomed.