The rest of the year progressed with a strange mix of normal school routine and underlying tension. Classes continued as expected. Harry and Nymeria excelled in their subjects without drawing undue attention, keeping the careful balance between capable and extraordinary.
Slughorn had taken a particular shine to them both, inviting them to several of his little gatherings. They attended when right, making connections and gathering information about which students came from which families and what their parents might be thinking about current events.
But there were signs of the larger conflict bleeding into school life. Students discussed Grindelwald’s movement in common rooms and at meals. Some with enthusiasm, others with fear or confusion. Harry overheard a group of Slytherin sixth years debating whether the Greater Good really was greater, their arguments growing heated enough that a prefect had to intervene.
A Hufflepuff third year whose parents had fled Germany told anyone who would listen about the increasing persecution on the continent. Not everyone believed her. Some dismissed it as exaggeration or propaganda.
The divisions were not obvious yet, not the way they would become. But the seeds were there, waiting to sprout.
Through it all, Harry and Nymeria’s relationship became an open secret. They did not make dramatic public displays, but they stopped pretending they were just friends. People saw them walking together between classes, sitting close together in the library, and sharing looks that went beyond platonic.
The reactions were mixed. Some students thought it was romantic. Others whispered about pureblood alliances, ambitions, and propriety, though quietly enough that it never reached the professors. The Black family’s approval or disapproval remained unclear to the masses, though many could see that Dorea and Pollux seemed genuinely happy for them. Arcturus was his usual self, but not cold. Cassieopeia, however, often looked at them with a calculating gaze which would quickly morph into a normal one whenever anyone happened to glance in her direction.
Charlus and Dorea’s relationship developed nicely as well. They were more restrained in public, as befitting their formal betrothal, but anyone watching could see the genuine affection growing between them. They studied together in the library, walked the grounds on weekends, and found excuses to spend time in each other’s company.
The letters from Belvina started arriving in February.
Nymeria opened the first one at breakfast, her expression shifting from confusion to irritation as she read. Harry watched her jaw tighten, her fingers crumpling the parchment slightly.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
“Belvina.” Nymeria’s voice was flat. “She’s writing to remind me of our conversation during the holidays. About family values and proper behavior and the importance of understanding our position in society.”
“Lovely.”
“It gets better. She’s also suggesting I reconsider my associations. Apparently, she’s heard I’m spending quite a lot of time with you, and she wanted to make sure I understood the importance of choosing my companions wisely.”
Harry’s expression darkened. “Meaning?”
“Meaning the Peverells are old blood but obscure and reduced to only one person, and I should perhaps focus on connections that better serve the family’s interests.” Nymeria set the letter down like it might contaminate her breakfast. “She doesn’t say it outright, but the implication is clear. You’re not influential enough to be worth my time.”
“How flattering.”
“I’m tempted to write back and tell her exactly where she can shove her implications.”
“Don’t.” Harry covered her hand with his. “It’s not worth it. She’s testing you, seeing if she can manipulate your choices through social pressure.”
“I know. Doesn’t make it less infuriating.”
The letters continued periodically throughout the spring. Always polite on the surface, always holding subtle barbs or pointed suggestions beneath. Belvina was persistent, Harry had to give her that.
One evening in late April, another letter arrived during dinner. Nymeria read it, her expression growing progressively darker. By the time she finished, she looked ready to set something on fire.
“What now?” Harry asked.
“She’s concerned about my political education.” Nymeria’s voice dripped with false sweetness. “She thinks I should be reading more about the philosophical foundations of wizarding superiority. She’s even included a reading list. How thoughtful.”
“You’re not going to read them.”
“Of course not. Well, maybe I will just know what propaganda they’re pushing. But I’m certainly not going to be converted by them.”
That night, after they’d made love in the Room of Requirement, Nymeria lay sprawled across Harry’s chest, Belvina’s latest letter crumpled on the floor where she’d thrown it.
“I hate her,” Nymeria announced.
“I noticed.”
“She’s everything wrong with pureblood society wrapped up in expensive robes and fake politeness.” Nymeria lifted her head to glare at the offending letter. “The way she talks about muggles and muggleborns, like they’re some kind of inferior species. The casual cruelty. The assumption that power gives you the right to control everyone around you.”
“She’s also married into a family that is connected, influential, and has decided to throw its considerable weight behind Grindelwald,” Harry pointed out. “Which makes her dangerous regardless of how much you hate her.”
“I know.” Nymeria flopped back down. “That’s the worst part. Having to be polite to someone who stands for everything I’m fighting against.”
“Welcome to politics.”
“I don’t like politics.”
“Nobody does.” Harry stroked her hair absently. “But we’re stuck with them anyway.”
“You could make me feel better about it.”
“Could I?” Harry’s tone shifted, becoming interested. “How would I do that?”
“I have some ideas.” Nymeria pushed herself up, straddling his hips. “Want to hear them?”
“Definitely.”
She leaned down to kiss him, her lips moving slowly against his, and her tongue delving deep into his mouth. “Or I could just show you instead,” she murmured into his mouth.
“Even better.”
They didn’t discuss Belvina again that night.
May brought exams. Harry and Nymeria studied diligently, keeping their careful position in the upper tier of their year without standing out too dramatically. Robert complained about Transfiguration while Helena breezed through everything with enviable ease.
The exams themselves were manageable. Harry had taken these tests before in some form, though the specific questions varied. Yet, it was easy enough, and he had to force himself to hold back lest he go above and beyond. He wrote carefully reasoned essays for History of Magic, showed advanced techniques in Charms and Transfiguration, and produced respectable potions under Slughorn’s watchful eye.
When the results were posted, Harry and Nymeria both ranked in the top five of their year. High enough to be noticed as capable students, not so high that it raised questions about how they’d achieved such marks.
“Excellent work, both of you,” Slughorn said when they next attended one of his gatherings. “I had high hopes for you from the beginning, and you’ve exceeded them quite handily.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Nymeria replied with modesty.
“I expect we’ll be seeing remarkable things from you both in the future. Mark my words, you’re the ones to watch.”
They accepted the compliments graciously and made their escape as soon as politely possible.
The last evening at Hogwarts was bittersweet. Students packed trunks, said goodbye to friends, and made plans for the summer. Harry and Nymeria sat with their little group in a corner of the library, talking about everything and nothing.
“I’m going to miss this,” Helena said, looking around at the familiar blue and bronze hangings nearby. “Summer at home is so boring compared to school.”
“At least you don’t have to deal with your parents trying to set you up with suitable matches,” Robert replied. “My mother has already mentioned three different families she wants me to meet this summer.”
“Could be worse. You could be already betrothed and dealing with all the expectations that come with it.” Charlus had joined them, Dorea beside him. They’d been spending more time with the Ravenclaws as the year progressed, the house divisions mattering less than shared interests.
“How is that going?” Helena asked curiously.
“Well enough.” Dorea smiled slightly. “We’ve been writing to our families about summer plans. There will be some formal occasions where we need to appear together, but nothing too overwhelming.”
“We’re thinking of visiting some of the family properties,” Charlus added. “Show Dorea the Potter estates, let me see more of the Black holdings. Get to know each other’s backgrounds better.”
“That sounds nice,” Nymeria said.
“What about you two?” Robert gestured between Harry and Nymeria with a knowing grin. “Any summer plans?”
“Some traveling,” Harry replied easily. “I want to show Nymeria some of the places I visited with my family. Italy, maybe. Perhaps France.”
“Just the two of you?” Helena’s eyebrows rose suggestively.
“And chaperones as appropriate,” Nymeria said with exaggerated primness. “We’re aware of propriety, thank you.”
“Of course you are.” Robert’s tone made it clear he didn’t believe that for a second. “I’m sure you’ll be very properly chaperoned the entire time.”
“Naturally.”
They laughed and the conversation moved on to other topics. But later, when the group had dispersed and Harry and Nymeria were alone in the corridor, she turned to him with a serious expression.
“We do need a plan for the summer,” she said quietly. “Real plans, not just the cover story we’re giving everyone.”
“I know.” Harry pulled her into an alcove, away from potential eavesdroppers. “We need to track what’s happening on the continent. Grindelwald’s movements, which families are declaring for him, what the opposition is doing.”
“And we need to figure out what Perseus decided about the Krum offer.”
“That too. Plus, we should improve our skills. Combat magic especially.” Harry’s expression was grim. “Things are going to get worse before they get better. We need to be ready.”
“Where do we even start?”
“I have some ideas. Places we can go that won’t raise too many questions. People we might be able to learn more from.” He cupped her face gently. “But mostly we need to stay together. We’re stronger that way.”
“I’m not planning on being anywhere else.” Nymeria leaned into his touch. “Though explaining to the Blacks why I’m spending the entire summer traveling with my boyfriend might be interesting.”
“Boyfriend?” Harry grinned. “Is that what I am?”
“Among other things.” She kissed him softly. “What would you prefer? Paramour? Lover? That boy I’m inappropriately attached to?”
“Boyfriend works fine.”
“Good. Because that’s what you are.”
They kissed again, slower this time, savoring the moment. Tomorrow they’d board Hogwarts Express and return to London. Summer would bring new challenges, new dangers, and new opportunities. But tonight, they were just Harry and Nymeria, two students finishing their year at Hogwarts.
The next morning dawned bright and clear. Students flooded the corridors with trunks and cages, saying final goodbyes before heading to the carriages. Harry and Nymeria made their way down with Robert and Helena, joining the stream of students heading toward Hogsmeade station.
The Hogwarts Express sat waiting, steam already rising from its engine. Students piled on, claiming compartments and settling in for the journey. Harry caught Charlus’s eye across the platform and waved. His friend grinned and waved back, Dorea beside him looking amused.
They found a compartment and settled in, watching the castle grow smaller through the window as the train pulled away. Another year was over. Another summer was to follow. The cycle continued, familiar and comforting despite everything else that was changing.
“Ready?” Nymeria asked, her hand finding his.
“For what?”
“Everything that’s coming.”
Harry squeezed her hand, looking out at the Scottish countryside rushing past. Wars brewing, families dividing, futures uncertain. But he wasn’t alone this time. He had her. He had friends who mattered. He had knowledge and power and purpose.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m ready.”
Break-
Harry watched the Scottish countryside blur past the window, his mind already racing ahead to the challenges waiting for them. The compartment had grown quiet. Robert and Helena had wandered off to find some other friends about an hour ago, leaving Harry and Nymeria alone.
“Perseus will want to have conversations. Probably several of them. About my choices, my associations, even my understanding of family duty.”
“You think he’s made his decision about Grindelwald?”
“I think he made it months ago and he’s just been letting everyone else argue while he prepared.” Nymeria’s fingers tapped restlessly against her knee.
Harry reached over and stilled her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “Whatever he’s decided, it doesn’t change what we do. We’re not children who need family permission to choose sides.”
“No, but we are young adults who need family resources to be effective.” Nymeria squeezed his hand. “I hate that the politics matter, but they do. If the Blacks officially declare for Grindelwald, it will shift the balance in Britain. Other families will follow.”
“And if they declare against him?”
“That would be better, but I don’t think that’s happening. Perseus is too pragmatic. He’ll probably maintain official neutrality while quietly supporting whichever side looks likely to win.” Nymeria’s voice carried disgust. “Hedge his bets so the family survives regardless of outcome.”
The train began to slow, the countryside giving way to the outskirts of London and it didn’t take long until it pulled into King’s Cross with a final lurch and a hiss of steam. Harry and Nymeria waited for the initial rush of students to pass before making their way to the exit.
The platform was packed with parents and family members. Harry spotted the Potters almost immediately near the barrier. William and Catherine stood with Charlus’s parents. Nearby, a knot of Blacks had gathered, and Harry’s eyes tightened when he saw who was at the center.
Perseus Black stood like a king holding court. His presence commanded attention without him needing to do anything overt. Cygnus and Irma flanked him on one side, while Orion and Doris stood on the other. Behind them, Marius and Altair loomed like disapproving sentinels.
“The whole bloody family,” Nymeria muttered. “He’s making a statement.”
“What kind of statement?”
“The kind that says I belong to them whether I like it or not.” Nymeria’s jaw tightened. “Come on. Might as well get this over with.”
They descended from the train together, their trunks floating behind them. Dorea had already spotted her family and was making her way toward them with Arcturus at her side. Charlus caught Harry’s eye and nodded toward the Potters.
“Nymeria,” Perseus’s voice cut through the platform noise, his eyes lingering on their joined hands. “A word, if you please.”
Nymeria squeezed Harry’s hand once before releasing it. “Here we go,” she said quietly. “Lord Black. Of course.”
Harry watched her walk toward her supposed family, her spine straight and her head high. He wanted to follow her, to stand beside her during whatever conversation Perseus had planned, but he knew that would be overstepping.
“Harry!” Catherine Potter appeared at his elbow, her warm smile a stark contrast to the cold formality of the Black gathering. “There you are. Come, you must be exhausted from the journey.”
“I’m fine, Lady Potter.” Harry returned her smile but his eyes kept drifting back to where Nymeria stood with Perseus. “Just saying goodbye to friends.”
“Yes, I see.” Catherine followed his gaze, her expression turning knowing. “Nymeria is the young lady Charlus mentioned in his letters. She seems quite remarkable.”
“She is.”
“And you’re worried about her meeting with Lord Black.” It wasn’t a question. Catherine patted his arm gently. “The Blacks have always been an intimidating lot, but I suspect your young lady can hold her own.”
Harry hoped she was right.
Across the platform, Nymeria stood before Perseus with her hands clasped loosely in front of her. The rest of the family formed a loose semicircle around them, close enough to hear but positioned to give the appearance of privacy.
“I trust the year was productive,” Perseus said. His tone was neutral, giving nothing away.
“Very productive, my lord. I learned a great deal at Hogwarts.” Nymeria kept her own voice equally neutral.
“So I’ve heard. Professor Slughorn speaks highly of your academic achievements. Top marks in most of your subjects.” Perseus’s eyes, the same gray as most of the family’s, were sharp and assessing. “He also mentioned you’ve formed certain associations.”
“I’ve made friends, yes. As one does at school.”
“Friends.” Marius drawled. “The Potter heir I understand. A suitable connection given your cousin Dorea’s betrothal. But this Peverell boy. That’s a more unusual choice.”
Nymeria felt her temper stir but kept it locked down. “Harry Peverell is hardly a boy, cousin. He’s a capable wizard from an ancient bloodline.”
“An ancient bloodline reduced to a single individual with no clear inheritance or power base.” Orion spoke for the first time, his voice cold. “Hardly the sort of association that benefits the family.”
“I wasn’t aware my friendships required family approval,” Nymeria replied, her tone just this side of respectful.
“Everything a Black does reflects on the family,” Irma said sharply. “Your choices are not made in isolation.”
Perseus raised a hand slightly, and Irma fell silent. “What my daughter-in-law means is that we take an interest in family members’ welfare. Particularly those newly returned to us.”
“How thoughtful.” Nymeria couldn’t quite keep the edge from her voice.
“Indeed.” Perseus studied her for a long moment. “This Peverell. I would like to meet him properly. Assess his character for myself.”
‘More like assess whether he can be useful to the family,’ she thought, stifling a scoff.
It wasn’t a request either. Nymeria recognized the tone, the expectation of compliance dressed up in polite language. She glanced across the platform to where Harry stood with the Potters.
“I’m sure that can be arranged, my lord.”
“Excellent. In fact, why don’t you bring him to the townhouse this evening? We’re having a family dinner to welcome you all home for the summer. He can join us.” Perseus’s expression remained neutral, but Nymeria didn’t miss the intention behind it. “Unless he has other commitments that would prevent him from accepting a formal invitation from the head of the Black family.”
Trapped. Neatly and efficiently trapped. Refusing would be an insult. Accepting meant subjecting Harry to an evening of Black family politics and scrutiny. But refusing would also mean admitting that Perseus’s opinion mattered enough to avoid, which gave him power over her choices.
“I’ll extend the invitation,” Nymeria said carefully. “Though I cannot speak for his response.”
“Of course not.” Perseus’s smile was thin. “Young people must make their own choices. However, I find that when properly informed of the consequences of those choices, they often choose wisely.”
The threat was subtle but clear. Nymeria held his gaze for a moment longer than was strictly comfortable before inclining her head in acknowledgment.
“If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I should inform Harry of your generous invitation.”
“Of course. Take your time. We’ll wait here.” Perseus gestured toward the platform exit. “After all, we’re family. We have all the time in the world.”
Nymeria walked back toward Harry, her mind racing. The Potters had drawn back slightly to give her and Harry space, though Catherine watched the approach with concerned eyes.
“That looked intense,” Harry said quietly when she reached him.
“Perseus wants to meet you. Properly. Tonight at Grimmauld Place for a family dinner.” Nymeria kept her voice low. “It’s a trap, but refusing would be worse than accepting.”
Harry glanced past her to where Perseus stood watching them. “I can handle a dinner.”
“It won’t just be dinner. He’s going to assess you, test you, try to figure out what your intentions are and whether you’re useful to the family’s interests.” Nymeria’s frustration bled through. “You’ll be on display for the entire evening.”
“Then I’ll be charming and respectful and give them nothing to complain about.” Harry’s expression was calm, though she could feel his own tension through the bond. “We knew this was coming eventually. The Blacks were never going to just accept our relationship without scrutiny.”
“You’re the last son of House Peverell.”
“A family with little to its name, whether in terms of wealth or influence. Let’s face it, Nym. Whatever renown my family name has comes from a children’s tale. Who will take it seriously? No, I completely see where Perseus Black is coming from.”
“I hate this.”
“I know. But we play the game when we have to.” Harry took her hand, a gesture that was probably visible to Perseus and definitely a statement. “Go tell him I accept.”
Nymeria wanted to argue, to tell Harry this was a terrible idea and they should just ignore Perseus’s power plays. But he was right. They needed to play the political games, at least for now. Their ability to operate effectively depended on maintaining certain relationships, and offending the Black family patriarch would have consequences.
She returned to Perseus and delivered Harry’s acceptance. The old lord’s expression didn’t change, but she thought she detected a flicker of something that might have been approval.
“Excellent. Shall we say seven o’clock? That will give everyone time to settle in from the journey.” Perseus’s tone was pleasant now, as if he hadn’t just maneuvered them all into position. “I look forward to a fascinating evening.”
“As do I, my lord.” Nymeria kept her own tone neutral.
“Good. Cygnus, see that rooms are prepared for our guest. We’ll want to make a good impression.” He turned to Nymeria once again. “I believe Mr. Peverell is waiting to say goodbye. Take your time. Family business can wait a few more minutes.”
Dismissed again. Nymeria walked back to Harry, acutely aware of multiple sets of eyes tracking her movement.
“Seven o’clock,” she told him, earning a nod in return.
“We should say our actual goodbyes now. Before we have an audience for those too.”
They moved slightly away from both family groups, finding a relatively quiet corner near one of the platform pillars. Nymeria could still feel eyes on them, but at least here they had the illusion of privacy.
“I don’t like this,” Harry said quietly. “Being separated from you for even a few hours feels wrong.”
“The bond doesn’t like distance.” Nymeria touched his face gently. “But we’ll survive a few hours apart. We managed the holidays.”
“Barely.” Harry caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Perseus is playing a game we don’t fully understand yet.”
“I promise. You be careful too. The Potters are lovely, but even they’ll have questions about us.” Nymeria managed a small smile. “At least their questions come from concern rather than politics.”
“True.” Harry pulled her closer, not quite embracing but near enough that she could feel his warmth. “Tonight will be fine. We’ll get through dinner, satisfy Perseus’s curiosity, and then we can start working on our plans.”
“I can wait to get away from them already.”
“I can imagine.” Harry chuckled. “But I have faith in your ability to be magnificently patient when needed.”
“Flatterer.”
“Truth teller.”
They stood close for another moment, drawing comfort from proximity and the bond humming between them. Finally, Nymeria stepped back.
“I should go.” She touched Harry’s cheek one last time. “See you at seven.”
“See you at seven,” Harry echoed.
Nymeria walked back to the Blacks, her posture straight and her expression composed. Perseus nodded once in approval, then turned to lead the family toward the floo network. Nymeria followed, very aware that she was being folded back into the family structure whether she wanted it or not.
Harry watched them go before turning to find the Potters waiting patiently.
“Ready to head home?” William asked, his eyes sharp. He’d observed much of the interaction with the Blacks.
“More than ready,” Harry replied.
They made their way through the barrier into muggle London.
“So,” Charlus said as they walked. “That looked like fun.”
“Perseus Black wants to have dinner with me tonight. At Grimmauld Place. With the whole family present.” Harry stared ahead. “I’m being evaluated.”
“Of course you are. You’re dating a Black, even if she’s from a distant branch. They’ll want to make sure you’re suitable.” Charlus sounded almost sympathetic. “For what it’s worth, my family went through similar scrutiny when talks of mine and Dorea’s betrothal first began. Lord Black had very pointed questions about my intentions and prospects.”
“How did you handle it?”
“By being honest and respectful while making it clear I wouldn’t be bullied into anything I didn’t want.” Charlus shrugged. “Perseus respects strength as long as it’s presented properly. He’ll push to see where your boundaries are. Just don’t let him push you into a corner.”
“Noted.”
A few minutes later, they were back in Potter Manor.
“You have your usual room, Harry,” Catherine said as Harry and Charlus grabbed their trunks.
“Thank you, Lady Potter.”
“Catherine,” she corrected gently. “We’ve discussed this. You’re family, Harry. No need for formality.”
The word still sent a pang through him. Family. Something he’d had so little of for so long, and now it was being offered freely by people who had no obligation to care about him.
“Thank you, Catherine,” he amended, earning a pleased smile.
He retreated to his room and settled in, catching a small nap after all the travel. He woke up to a sharp tap at the window. An unfamiliar owl perched on the sill, a letter tied to its leg. Harry opened the window and retrieved the letter, offering the owl some water before it flew off.
The handwriting was neat but slightly hurried, and he didn’t recognize it immediately. He broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.
Mr. Peverell,
I hope this letter finds you well. We met briefly at King’s Cross before the holidays. You may recall I’m working on documenting magical creatures and their behaviors.
I’m writing because I’ve encountered something rather disturbing and your name came up in conversation with Albus Dumbledore. He suggested you might have insights that could prove useful.
There have been attacks in Eastern Europe. Specifically in Hungary and Romania. Magical creatures that should be relatively docile have been exhibiting aggressive, almost coordinated behavior. Multiple settlements have been affected, and the pattern suggests something more than natural aggression.
I’m planning an expedition to investigate, and I wondered if you might be interested in joining me. From what I’ve heard, your insights could prove valuable.
If you’re interested, I’ll be in London for the next week making preparations. You can reach me through the Leaky Cauldron.
Yours sincerely,
Newt Scamander
Harry read the letter twice, his mind working through implications. Magical creatures behaving aggressively and in coordinated patterns in Eastern Europe, right where Grindelwald’s influence was strongest. That couldn’t be coincidence.
He folded the letter carefully and tucked it into his trunk. This was information that needed to be shared with Nymeria, but it would have to wait until after tonight’s dinner. Still, it added another layer to the summer’s complications. They’d need to discuss whether Scamander’s expedition was worth joining or if it would distract from their own plans.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Harry unpacked, took a long bath, and tried to mentally prepare for the evening ahead. His interactions with the Potters were pleasant, though he could tell both William and Catherine were concerned about his upcoming engagement with the Blacks.
“Remember,” William said as Harry prepared to leave. “You’re not asking for their approval. You’re accepting an invitation as a courtesy. Don’t let them make you feel like a supplicant.”
“I won’t,” Harry promised.
“And if things become uncomfortable, you can always leave,” Catherine added. “You’re under no obligation to endure rudeness disguised as family tradition.”
Harry appreciated their support even as he doubted he’d be able to leave early without consequences. He checked his appearance one last time, ensuring his dress robes were impeccable, then flooed to Grimmauld Place.
He emerged into the drawing room of Grimmauld Place and immediately understood why Nymeria had dreaded this summer. The house was oppressive in a way Potter Manor wasn’t, even though it was not as depressing as it would one day become. Dark wood paneling, heavy curtains, and an air of ancient tradition that felt more like a burden than a legacy.
A house elf appeared immediately. “Master Peverell is expected. This way, please.”
Harry followed the elf through corridors lined with portraits that tracked his movement with suspicious eyes. The dining room was exactly what he’d expected: a long table set for far too many people, crystal and silver gleaming in candlelight, and enough formal place settings to make even a state dinner look casual. The room had obviously been magically expanded, and it was quite different from how he remembered it.
Perseus Black stood at the head of the table, his presence dominating the room without effort. Cygnus and Irma were seated to his right, Orion and Doris to his left. Marius and Altair stood near the fireplace, drinks in hand and their expressions carefully neutral. Pollux and Arcturus occupied seats further down the table, with Dorea and Cassieopeia sitting right opposite them. And at the far end, Nymeria sat with her hands folded in her lap and her face a mask of composure.
“Mr. Peverell,” Perseus greeted him. “Welcome to our home. Thank you for accepting my invitation on such short notice.”
“Thank you for extending it, Lord Black.” Harry matched his formal tone. “It’s an honor to be invited.”
“Indeed. Please, have a seat.” Perseus gestured to the chair beside Nymeria. “We were just discussing the year’s events at Hogwarts. I understand you distinguished yourself academically as well.”
Harry took his seat, feeling multiple eye in the room assess him. Nymeria’s hand found his under the table.
“I am fortunate to have excellent professors,” Harry said carefully. “Hogwarts offers unparalleled educational opportunities.”
“So modest.” Irma’s voice held an edge. “According to Slughorn, your performance was exceptional, not merely fortunate.”
“Professor Slughorn is generous with his praise.”
“He’s also an excellent judge of talent and potential,” Perseus observed. “Which makes his assessment of you particularly interesting, Mr. Peverell. He seems to believe you have a promising future ahead of you.”
“I hope to prove him right.”
The dinner proceeded in courses, each one an opportunity for subtle interrogation. Perseus asked about Harry’s family history, his education before Hogwarts, and his plans for the future. The questions were delivered pleasantly, but Harry recognized them for what they were: an assessment of his value and potential threat to the family’s interests.
Marius and Altair were less subtle. They made pointed comments about the decline of once-great families, the importance of maintaining proper connections, and the dangers of aligning oneself with those without political power. Harry fielded each comment with calm responses that gave nothing away.
Nymeria remained mostly quiet, though he could feel her tension through the bond. She was being forced to watch him navigate her family’s politics without being able to help, and it clearly frustrated her.
“Tell me, Mr. Peverell,” Orion said during the fourth course. “What are your views on the current political situation in Europe?”
There it was. The question they’d been building toward all evening.
“I think Grindelwald represents a significant threat to magical society,” Harry replied. His answer was honest without being inflammatory. “His ideology is destructive and his methods are brutal.”
“And yet some would argue he raises valid points about the status quo,” Marius interjected. “The Statute of Secrecy does constrain wizarding society in ways that benefit muggles at our expense.”
“The Statute protects us as much as it constrains us,” Harry countered calmly. “Revealing ourselves to muggles now, in their current state of technological development, would likely lead to conflict we’re not prepared for.”
“Spoken like someone who fears muggle weapons,” Altair said dismissively.
“Spoken like someone who respects them,” Harry corrected. “Fear and respect are different things. Muggles may lack magic, but they’ve proven quite capable of destroying each other with increasing efficiency. I’d prefer not to give them a new target.”
Perseus had been watching this exchange with interest. “And what would you do about Grindelwald’s growing influence?”
“Oppose it. Through whatever means prove effective.” Harry met the old lord’s eyes. “I’m not a pacifist, Lord Black. I simply believe in choosing battles carefully and fighting them intelligently.”
“A pragmatic answer.” Perseus took a sip of wine. “But I wonder if pragmatism is enough when facing someone as committed as Grindelwald.”
“Commitment without wisdom leads to disaster,” Harry replied. “Grindelwald is committed to his vision, certainly. But his vision requires the oppression and eventual elimination of millions of people. That’s not commitment. That’s madness dressed up in philosophical rhetoric.”
The table went very quiet. Harry had just called Grindelwald mad in a room where at least half the people probably sympathized with aspects of his ideology.
“Strong words,” Orion said coldly.
“Honest words,” Harry replied. “You asked my opinion, Lord Orion. I’ve given it.”
Perseus studied him for a long moment. “You have conviction, Mr. Peverell. I appreciate that, even when I don’t necessarily agree with the conviction itself.” He set down his wine glass. “I’ve made a decision regarding the family’s position on Grindelwald and his movement.”
Everyone at the table tensed. Even Nymeria, who’d probably guessed this was coming, went very still beside Harry.
“The Black family will maintain official neutrality,” Perseus announced. “We will not publicly declare for or against Grindelwald’s cause. However, individual family members are free to make their own choices, provided those choices do not directly implicate the family as a whole.”
It was exactly what Nymeria had predicted. Perseus was hedging his bets, allowing the family to survive regardless of which side won.
“That’s cowardice,” Harry said quietly.
The table erupted. Irma gasped, Marius surged to his feet, and even Cygnus looked shocked. Only Perseus remained calm, though his eyes had gone dangerously cold.
“Explain yourself, Mr. Peverell.”
Harry knew he was crossing a line, but he’d already committed. “With respect, Lord Black, neutrality in the face of evil is just another form of complicity. Grindelwald is building on evil, murdering people for their blood status or political beliefs. Maintaining neutrality toward that isn’t political wisdom. It’s moral cowardice.”
“You dare insult the head of the Black family in his own home?” Marius’s voice shook with fury.
“I’m stating an opinion that was requested,” Harry replied calmly. “Lord Black asked what I thought should be done about Grindelwald. This is part of my answer. Powerful families like the Blacks have a responsibility to take stands on matters of basic human decency. Hiding behind neutrality abdicates that responsibility.”
Perseus raised a hand, and Marius fell silent though he continued to glare at Harry.
“You’re either very brave or very foolish, Mr. Peverell,” Perseus said softly. “Possibly both.”
“I’m honest,” Harry replied. “You invited me here to assess my character and intentions. I’m showing you both. I believe Grindelwald must be opposed. I believe those with power have a duty to protect those without it. And I believe that includes the Black family, whether they acknowledge that duty or not.”
“And if the family chooses not to acknowledge it?”
“Then Nymeria and I will oppose Grindelwald without family support.” Harry glanced at Nymeria, who looked torn between pride and horror at what he was saying. “We don’t need the Black family’s permission to do what’s right.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to cut. Perseus stared at Harry with an unreadable expression while the rest of the family looked variously outraged, shocked, or thoughtful.
Finally, Perseus smiled. It was a small smile, barely visible, but it was there.
“You have spine, Mr. Peverell. I respect that.” He gestured to the house elves. “Clear the table. I think we’re done with dinner. Mr. Peverell, might I have a word with you privately?”
It wasn’t a request. Harry stood, feeling Nymeria’s concern through the bond but also her reluctant approval of how he’d handled himself. He followed Perseus from the dining room into a private study lined with books and dark artifacts displayed like trophies.
Perseus closed the door and turned to face him. “That was quite a performance.”
“It wasn’t a performance. I meant every word.”
“I know. That’s what made it effective.” Perseus moved to his desk, pouring two glasses of firewhiskey. “You’ve put me in an interesting position, Mr. Peverell. I can’t publicly support your stance without alienating half my family. But I also can’t publicly oppose it without looking like I’m defending genocide.”
“Then perhaps you should reconsider your neutrality.”
“Perhaps.” Perseus handed him a glass. “Or perhaps I should let young people fight this battle while the family maintains deniability. If you succeed, we can claim we always supported the effort quietly. If you fail, we can distance ourselves from the attempt.”
“That’s remarkably cynical.”
“That’s political survival.” Perseus took a drink. “The Black family has endured for centuries because we know when to fight and when to preserve our strength. This particular fight will be costly regardless of who wins. Better to have options than commitments.”
Harry wanted to argue, to rail against the cold calculation that let Perseus treat people’s lives as political considerations. But he also understood the logic, even if he despised it.
“And I believe that means you want to work with me in some manner as well?” Harry asked bluntly.
“Indeed. There is something you want from me. It is obvious that I would want something in return.”
Harry didn’t need the man to spell out what he wanted from him, even though Nymeria was not his to give.
“What do you want from me then?”
“Information,” Perseus said calmly. “I know you and Nymeria have already discussed this, perhaps even before you arrived at Hogwarts. I know you two will be out there fighting while I maintain neutrality. I want to know what you learn about Grindelwald’s plans, his weaknesses, his resources. Knowledge is power, Mr. Peverell, and I intend to accumulate as much as possible before I commit the family fully to either side.”
“You want us to be your spies.”
“I want us to have a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Perseus’s smile was cold. “You’ll need resources. Money, connections, safe houses, and information. I can provide all of that. In exchange, you keep me informed of developments. Not everything, I’m not naive enough to expect total transparency. But enough that I can make informed decisions about the family’s future.”
Harry considered the offer. It was a devil’s bargain, tying them to Perseus’s political maneuvering. But it also provided resources they’d need if they were going to operate effectively against Grindelwald.
“I’ll discuss it with Nymeria,” Harry said finally. “But I’m not promising anything.”
“Fair enough. Though I should mention that whether or not you accept my offer, Nymeria will be staying at Grimmauld Place this summer. Family tradition and all that.” Perseus’s expression made it clear this wasn’t negotiable. “Of course, as her paramour, you’d be welcome to visit. Regularly. We could have many interesting conversations.”
Harry’s lips pursed as Perseus took another sip of his drink. It was another trap. Perseus was ensuring he had access to both of them, using family obligation and social convention to maintain control. He didn’t see Nymeria as a member of the family, but someone who shared the name and thus, someone who he wanted under his control.
Harry had half a mind to tell the man what he really thought about it, but he couldn’t, not without alienating the man and the Blacks as a whole. Perhaps in the future, but not today.
“I have plans for the summer, but I’ll visit when I can,” he said finally.
“I’m not asking you to. I’m simply suggesting that two intelligent young people, living in proximity and sharing information, might be more effective than two intelligent young people separated and working independently.” Perseus finished his drink. “Think about it. Now, I believe it’s getting late. I wouldn’t want to keep you from Potter Manor.”
Harry set down his glass and headed for the door, pausing at the threshold.
“For what it’s worth, Lord Black, I think you’re making a mistake. Neutrality won’t protect your family when Grindelwald comes for Britain. He’ll demand allegiance or elimination. There won’t be a middle ground.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Perseus acknowledged. “But I’ve survived this long by never putting all my pieces on the board at once. I’m not about to start now.”
Harry left the study and made his way back to the drawing room, where Nymeria was waiting. The rest of the family had apparently dispersed, leaving them relatively alone.
“How bad was it?” she asked quietly.
“He wants us to be his information sources. In exchange for resources and support.” Harry pulled her close, needing the contact after the tense evening. “He’s playing both sides, keeping his options open.”
“I told you that’s what he’d do.” Nymeria sighed against his chest. “Did you agree?”
“I said I’d think about it. Which I will, with you.” Harry kissed the top of her head before he opened their mind link to share the information he wanted her to know. Nymeria’s brows furrowed slightly as she registered it all.
“I see…”
Harry checked the time. “I should go before Perseus decides to have another conversation.”
They walked together to the floo, stealing a few more moments of closeness before separation.
Finally, Harry flooed back to Potter Manor, emerging into the quiet sitting room. The house was dark except for a single lamp left burning in the entrance hall. He made his way upstairs to his room, his mind churning with everything that had happened.
Perseus’s offer and threats did not faze him at all. The family was split over Grindelwald, and that would kick him in the arse more than anything he could say or do. Harry pushed it all out of his mind, refocusing on Newt Scamander’s letter about mysterious creature attacks in Eastern Europe.
Harry pulled out the letter and read it again. Coordinated aggressive behavior in creatures that should be docile. It had to be connected to Grindelwald somehow. The timing was too perfect, the location too convenient.
He needed to discuss this with Nym. They needed to decide whether investigation with Scamander was worth the time, or if it would distract from their plans.
Plans that were increasingly looking like they would involve only him.
TBC.