Chapter 38: Silent Silk & Flowing Fudge

As one comes to the ending of their life, they are faced with the realization that they will not be able to complete everything they had planned, or had wanted to, in life. There are many regrets in my life and one of them is the shortening of it due to my own folly. I've retired to my hidden sanctum, my final place of solace.

There are mysteries I wished to solve, areas of magic that I will never be able to spend years experimenting on. It is hard to face your own demise, knowing it is coming and not being able to escape it. There is no cunning, no guile and no trick that can assist me now. All the respect I have amassed, all the fame I possessed, all the accolades I was showered with, little can they do to impede the inevitable.

What is worse is that my ending is premature. I sacrificed the length of my life for power. In youth, you are confident and believe yourself invulnerable, infallible. The folly of youth is failing to understand that knowledge is not power, is believing that magical might is the basis for authority. It is only the tempering by wisdom where knowledge gains its power, it is through experience that one learns how and when to use their might. The folly of youth leads you to believe knowledge and power are enough on their own.

My heir, it is not so! Listen to the old, for they are wise. Seek counsel of those with strong shoulders and a sturdy back, for they have borne the weight of responsibility and it has wrought them through trials and tribulations. Glory in your troubles, rejoice in your difficulties, because it is through torment and trial that you build perseverance and I tell you that perseverance builds character. And it is through character that you will learn to not bow to the trappings of knowledge and power without counsel and wisdom.

Hear my words, my heir! Heed them! For the weight of the burdens I have carried has now brought me to my knees. My life is ending, my yearnings will go unfulfilled.

Death humbles all, for none can escape it, the ultimate equalizer.

Death humbles us all.

Harry blasted spell after spell at the targets. He'd managed to make them self-replicating after destruction and was making full use of that now. Target after target was destroyed. He wasn't limiting himself to his normal singular spell selection. No, he was mixing in blasting curses, fire, ice, really anything that would smash, pulverize or blow the targets into smithereens.

He was frustrated, pissed off and annoyed. Harry had spent a day in isolation, coming to grips with what he had done, and during that time Fleur had happened. She'd gone to his friends, the ones he introduced her to and helped her befriend, and she'd turned them against him. Angelina, Alicia, and even Katie were doing more than just giving him the cold shoulder. They refused to speak to him and appeared close to hexing him if he pushed his luck.

Fred and George had been conveniently not in the Great Hall when he had come. The only place he'd found friendly faces were with Daphne, Susan, and Hannah. Rumors had already circulated, Fleur and he were not an item anymore and Harry was the arse that made it happen. Fleur was coming out of this looking as good as… well… as good as she always did, and wasn't that a sour enough thought on its own.

Sweat poured down his face as he kept firing off the most powerful variations of his spells that he could. Flitwick had been teaching him control, he'd been working on getting the precise amount of magic needed for something. Although Harry was powerful, as Flitwick kept saying, learning to moderate it by being efficient was necessary. When negating spells with his own magic, he had to use a similar amount to do so, otherwise, using too much could have effects far worse than just failing to neutralize it, than by using too little. Flitwick had shown him the result of using too much magic to stop a blasting hex, wild magic interacting with explosive magic… not a good thing to be near.

"Are you going to stay here all day?" Harry heard a voice call out from behind him, he turned and saw that it was Daphne, not that it could've really been anyone else.

Harry didn't answer and returned to his spellwork, the final five targets ending before he ended the self-replication. He quickly dried himself off and freshened himself up and then saw Daphne was still waiting on him, watching him with a critical eye. She was leaning up against the door and looked perturbed at him, her arms crossed and eyebrows knit together.

Harry took a second to recall what her words had been and then answered her, "No, I've just been doing my usual spellwork," Harry bit out, somewhat annoyed, though his frustrations had nothing to do with Daphne.

"Riiiight," she drawled out, her sarcasm thick, "your routine suddenly gets two hours longer and you do nothing but spellwork and studying down here, only leaving when you have your lessons or to meet with father and the others."

Harry's jaw clenched together tightly and he moved to get past her and back to his desk to study.

Daphne pushed herself up right, off the doorway, and blocked his path, her arms folded across her body still.

"Daphne," Harry grit out, "move." His words coming off as a command.

"Are you going to be a moody arse if I let you through or are you willing to talk?" She asked without moving, even as Harry stepped forward, just beyond the propriety of what would be considered personal space.

Daphne's chin rose a smidgen, "You've been mopey and broody ever since you broke it off with Fleur. I've given you space but you're getting worse, not better."

Harry's eyes flashed with anger, "What? Upset at the lack of attention now that you and Natalia have won?" Harry sneered unkindly.

Daphne bristled, "Fine, if that is how you are going to be-" although it looked like she had more to say, she shut her mouth and abruptly left, quickly departing.

Harry watched her leave, his eyes still burning with anger until she was out of sight. He drew in a breath and exhaled out a deep one, huffing, upset with himself over the interaction. Daphne had been nothing but understanding since his decision. She'd given him space, initiated polite conversation but never pushed when he gave her curt answers.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. He took one more look back over the room and then trailed after his chambermate. He got into the room and sat at the big desk, Cuddles was eating something she'd caught earlier or something Dobby had brought out for her.

He opened his book, and began to read. His eyes found their way to the bottom and he blinked three times in quick succession and then tried to recall what he'd read. His mind blanked and he scratched the side of his head. He had no idea what he had just read. Harry had read the information but his mind wasn't processing it. Sadly, this wasn't uncommon these past few days.

Harry dropped the book on the desk unceremoniously, causing Cuddles to squawk at the sudden noise. He caught Daphne shooting him an unimpressed looked before she turned back to her book, studiously ignoring him.

Harry stopped scratching the side of his head and let out a sigh. He stood up and brought Cuddles with him, cradling her in one arm up against his chest, his other hand free to pet her as she loved. He treked over and bit back a smirk as he could tell Daphne was doing her utmost to ignore his movement, she kept staring at her book, but he could see her eyes were still and he doubted she would be doing anything but watching him with her peripheral vision.

Harry stopped in front of her, "I'm sorry for snapping at you." He withdrew his wand and conjured a chair so he could sit across from her. He sat and waited for her to respond to his apology.

She arched her eyebrow and crossed her legs. "Apology accepted," she said neutrally.

"I'm just annoyed and frustrated."

"I've noticed," Daphne replied primly.

"I knew Fleur would be right ticked at me but I hadn't thought my Gryffindor teammates would take her side on this," Harry explained with a little frustration and disappointment.

Daphne shook her head, "You don't know much about girls, do you Harry?"

Harry blinked at the question, having not expected it. "Err… wot?" He said unintelligibly.

Daphne giggled and clarified her question, "You've never dated before, aside from Fleur?"

"Err… no, I have not," Harry replied honestly, a slight reddening in his cheeks.

"Well then, let me lay out exactly what has gone on so you understand what is happening and why it is happening."

Harry crossed his own legs and sank back into the chair, if he was going to be educated on this he was going to be comfortable. He lowered Cuddles into his lap and let her curl up, he continued patting her when she was snuggled into his thighs.

"The backstory is equally as important as to the psychology of what is going on right now," Daphne began and drew Harry's full attention. "Fleur has been sitting with your teammates at almost every meal. She followed you when you sat at other tables but she had become quite friendly with your teammates."

Harry nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes were focused. He knew this information already but wasn't understanding what this had to do with his teammates siding with Fleur over him.

"They have become quite close and began to spend time together, outside of the Great Hall. I'd seen Fleur studying with them in the Library and had heard she'd spent time in the Gryffindor Common Room."

Oh. His eyebrows lifted at that. He knew they had become chummy but hadn't realized how friendly it had gotten.

"You visit the library and mostly study on your own, unless someone joins you, when you are found there at all. You've been eating a few meals, mostly lunch in the Great Hall but you're not there more than once per day, on average, if you are even there that much," Daphne continued to explain. "Meanwhile, Fleur spent almost every meal with them. She's helped them with their studies and even seemed very friendly with the twin beaters, she often joked with them."

Harry had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly where he'd not seen this going now.

"When you ended things with Fleur, guess who spent all her time dealing with that? There are three names and I'll give you three guesses as to who spent more than one night with the Beauxbatons Champions, in her private room, within the carriage."

"Katie, Alicia, and Angelina." Harry replied needlessly.

"Obviously." Daphne rolled her eyes. "If that wasn't enough, often, when a break up occurs, women defend women and men defend men. Cedric and Viktor would be sympathetic ears to you while the chaser trio are to Fleur."

"But what about the twins then? They seem to be avoiding me."

"Honestly," Daphne huffed, "they have to spend all day around the three girls. Would you want to irritate them by publicly taking your side?" The rhetorical answer of no didn't need to be provided. "I'm sure they'll grovel once things calm down a little. As time moves on, things get easier," Daphne told him with a sympathetic smile.

Harry shrugged, he'd accessed Daphne's expertise and just kept doing what he was doing. Fleur… was a… difficult topic for him. He still felt for her, and deeply at that, but he knew he had made the correct decision.

"Did your father have any news on the financial compensation from the Malfoys?" Harry asked, pivoting to a new subject. There had been disagreement, some of which was quite heated, about when Harry should take on Malfoy.

"No, and as I told you before, it may take months to go through the books to find everything."

Harry shut his eyes and pinched his nose. He'd told them he was going for Malfoy and though they had agreed, begrudgingly, Harry felt they were resorting to stall tactics now. Every time he put forth that he should go and do something, they would bicker and argue about timing, whether they should make it public, if Harry should do an interview first or second and on and on and on. They kept covering every angle from every viewpoint in minutia. It was like they were filibustering the meetings to ensure they stalled everything when the topic came out, and this probably wasn't helping his annoyance levels at all.

The Potter heir appreciated that they cared for him and wanted to protect him but they failed to grasp that he was capable of doing this and he was going to do it, whether they liked it or not!

"I did get something that will require your attention," Daphne said, neatly slipping an envelope out from somewhere on her person when Harry wasn't looking.

"Oh?" Harry asked as he quickly summoned the envelope and opened it up. He quickly began to skim it and let out a long, low, audible groan. "The Minister's Inauguration Gala?" Harry scrunched his nose and lifted his cheeks in disgust. The last thing he felt like doing was socializing at an event.

"Yes," Daphne responded flatly. "As your new personal aide, I get to inform you that you'll be going and bringing a date. Your clothes have been arranged and your date has been setup."

Harry's eyes bulged, "My, my date?" He spluttered, taken aback.

"Yes, your date." Daphne replied, uncrossing her legs, bringing her knees together and placing her book on her lap, her hands folding together on it.

"Who is it? Shouldn't I get some say in it?" He wasn't really bothered, the only person he would have considered would be Natalia but with her busy schedule, preparing for a role in a performance, her time was rather minimal.

"Me," she said, staring at him, scrutinizing his reaction.

Heh, he should have expected that, yet, somehow, he had not.

"Did you just ask me out for a first date?" He asked, teasing her. He could tell Cuddle was having enough of the lazing around and wanted to go for a fly, or hunt, or something. Harry lifted the little dragon, launching her while simultaneously feeding a little magic in her, Cuddles preferred to be a bit bigger when hunting rats.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "You need to ingratiate yourself with the key families and the movers and shakers within the Ministry. I'll be on your arm to provide the information that you'll need and help conduct things so you don't make any missteps," she informed him and neatly dodged the question.

"Don't I get a say before we publicly announce to the world that we are dating? I thought you might want to at least go on a few dates or share a kiss first," Harry didn't relent in his teasing, it was a breath of fresh air to get back to teasing pretty girls again, it was always an enjoyable time.

"You are the centerpiece of our political alliance. This will be your first major appearance at an event like this and it is important you set a strong foundation to build off of. While you'll find natural allies, you will need to cultivate a political support base."

If the Hufflepuff was going to ignore his comments and carry on as if he hadn't said anything, he didn't mind playing that game too. "I mean it's a bit cliche but I thought we'd at least go to Hogsmeade together first, browse through the stores while we awkwardly weren't sure if we should be holding hands or not," he grinned at her as she continued to ignore his comments.

"While we will be able to ensure you gain strong initial traction with House Greengrass political allies, your first impression can go a long way. We can get you in the door but you'll need to prove you are worthy of their support."

Harry enjoyed how she was ignoring his comments and decided to escalate things, he wanted to provoke a reaction. "I mean if this keeps up, are we going to skip ahead, amend the contract, and then fuck?" He saw that she wasn't even half paying attention to his words, not until the word 'contract' was said and her eyes widened, comically, at 'fuck'. "I learned about a couple interesting virginity rituals in my study if you're into that sort of thing," Harry thought it was a humorous off-hand kind of comment. She was sitting with a ritual book in her lap and studied them down here as much as she could.

"What?" Daphne asked sharply.

"I know about you and Natalia offering to join forces against the Veela temptress," Harry exaggerated the reason for their coalition, "and thought if you are going to make our first date such a public event, I thought you might make our first physical event something big too, though your studying down here could be put to use too."

Harry relished the flushing of her cheeks, it was his claimant to victory.

"What kind of rituals?" She asked, biting her lip.

It was Harry's turn to be struck off kilter. His neck backed his head up in surprise. "Uh" He said, caught off guard still, "there were two, one for shifting the loyalty of the female and a second for the sharing of prominent magical traits between the two."

She bit her lip again, "Mmm, I've… heard of them, from what I've learned here." Harry nodded, that's not surprising, "The first one is like a more advanced version of a blood adoption, in a sense, from what I recall reading."

"How so?" Harry queried with a frown, it still bothered him that Daphne was getting an academic understanding whereas he was only getting a practical one.

"The ritual is done by the male, as it was designed this way, and they are undertaking the ritual, not the female, the recipient of the ritual." Harry had wondered about that, if there was a virginity ritual for him to do with others then wouldn't that force them into doing rituals to achieve balance? If Daphne was correct, it would not be the case.

"A blood adoption adds traits to the recipient's blood, it adds to their existing family. While it is a useful ritual, and important to our culture, it cannot remove someone from a family." Huh, so if that was the case he could, theoretically, be added to multiple families by adding their blood to his.

"They are incredibly dangerous as the further removed someone is from the family the greater the likelihood of it harming or killing the recipient. That's why it is so rare to be done and most often used when a new heir is required for the main line of the family, if it is even used at all."

This wasn't really an area Harry had any knowledge in. He'd trust Daphne's word on it and if he ever needed to he could see about verifying it.

"But the virginity rituals…" She continued, crossing her legs and repositioning to sit taller, "the two are different. Blood and magic aren't the same thing. As we all know, magical blood doesn't always mean magical capability, just look at squibs."

This was highly fascinating, to Harry. Was this something else purebloods grew up to learn, he hadn't sat around and considered these things. It reminded him of what Salazar regretted, all the magic he had yet to explore. He could well imagine himself, like Slytherin, wanting to continue to explore the boundaries and depth of magical knowledge and find whole fields of study he may never get to.

"What, I believe, your rituals are doing is that they will have an effect on your magic," she tilted her head and gazed past him in consideration. "The first one sounds, to me, like your magic is binding theirs to you. I'd like to take a look at the ritual itself, it may actually have a blood sacrifice in it."

While Harry was naive about a woman's body it was only to a degree. "You're referring to a virgin's hymen?" Daphne nodded and Harry moved onto the point of his question. "Don't… they sometimes… break?" He asked awkwardly, not used to speaking about these kinds of thing, especially one he was just teasing about sex just previously. "I thought I'd heard that before…" He clarified before Daphne had a chance to answer.

She had opened her mouth to answer and Harry's clarification stopped and shot him an annoyed look before answering. "There is a difference between witches and muggles . Our magic protects it. Unless there has been a deliberate action to penetrate it directly, it's always intact. Magicals are hardier, our magic protects us. We are less sick, we heal faster and our bodies can take more punishment, we are not muggles." It wasn't so much disdain that characterized her tone on muggles, it was more vehemence, or a surety, that muggles and witches are not comparable, that they are different.

"Oh, I see," he replied lamely.

"Anyways, as I was saying before, I'm curious about the effect of the ritual. If the witch is shedding blood and allowing your, erhm," her cheeks flushed as her hands fidgeted on the book, " seed, accepting it sounds like they are shedding their blood and accepting your magic hierarchically." Though the topic was embarrassing for her too, the Greengrass Heiress was highly intrigued by the rituals being discussed.

"I think these would be a ritual for you but not for them. They are accepting your magic, not doing anything themselves," her eyes squinted while she was mulling something over in her head. "I think, from the sounds of it, it's like painting a wall. They are the wall and the paint, in this case, your magic, is being applied to them but the wall itself isn't changing, not structurally anyways."

Harry nodded and summoned the journal, flipping to the page that detailed the instructions for the rituals and handed it to her. He had no idea if she would be able to read it or not. Daphne was passed the book and her suddenly intensively inquisitive face concluded his wondering.

"These… are… wow!" Her eyes widened and she had a smile on her face.

Daphne ignored Harry and kept staring at the page, her fingers tracing different parts, sometimes pausing as her eyes went on. This kept up for several minutes, part of the time she was muttering things too softly for them to be coherent for Harry.

"You're planning on using the first one with Natalia?" She asked, after a time, her eyes drawing up, away from the journal to meet Harry's.

"Yes. What can you tell me about it? Do you see just the rituals or the text above it too?" Harry asked, he didn't think she would be able to see the journal entry and he was pleasantly surprised she was able to see the ritual at all. The entire setup would be done beforehand and Harry would be the one that did anything beyond just having sex, like normal. It even allowed for a non-magical bed to be used, as long as none of the components had magic then a bed, blanket and pillows were all fine with the ritual.

"What?" Harry's voice brought her back to the land of the living, "Sorry, I missed what you asked."

"I asked if you could read just the ritual instructions or if there was anything else."

"Oh, I can only see the ritual instructions. What else is there?" She asked with unveiled curiosity, her fingers tracing where he could see the journal entry.

Harry shrugged, "More writings from Salazar. This one is him passing thoughts to his heir about marriage and the mistake he made about it. He's long-winded in his explanation but it boils down to him marrying a Gaunt and her being mad, something wasn't right in the head with her, or so he says."

Daphne shook her head, "I can't get over how you get to read his memoirs. A Gryffindor, maybe the Gryffindor of our generation, finds and is staying in Salazar Slytherin's refuge, reading his memoirs and learning from his personal library, sleeping in his old chambers," she shook her head again, her chin dipping down toward her chest as she did so. "It's… it's… I don't really know how to explain how surreal this all is."

"I know, you've mentioned it over and over. You've brought up how your family has dedicated their lives to trying to end whatever is affecting your ability to have heirs and that what you have already learned is far greater than anything your family has been able to dig up." Not mentioned was that she hadn't run out of material to study and she hadn't been given any access to practical ritual sets.

She glared at him, annoyed, and rolled her eyes at him. "These are actual instructions for a ritual, but, from what I can tell, they are self-contained."

"How so?" Harry asked, not quite sure what she meant.

"Several discussions on rituals are about the after effects. For instance, when you strengthen your muscles but not the bones, that's the most common example of doing one good thing that leads to a problem. It's easy to understand the physical aspect, while the magical after effects are very difficult to predict and plan for. It's why rituals have fallen into obscurity."

Harry gave an exaggerated nod. "Don't I know it…" Salazar had harped and harped and harped and harped and harped on it.

"It was rumored that rituals are the reason for a number of issues within families. The Gaunts have always been wrong in the head. Even though they were parselmouth, and the only family left with it in every generation, nobody wanted to marry them, You-Know-Who being a spawn from that line only makes sense," Daphne added the last part thoughtfully.

"I thought it was something he screwed up with the rituals. I've been told he looked as monstrous as he acted." Harry said, thinking more about the issue, one he'd given quite a lot of thought to previously.

"It could be that, I'm worried half to death with the rituals I have seen you undertake," Daphne said seriously. "I can understand each one but… there is a spillover effect. Each ritual has made changes and for each change it makes, another must be made to balance it. With you doing so many, I can't imagine the complexity involved in finding a final balance."

Harry shrugged as he felt uncomfortable, these were the deep worries he had been doing his best to suppress. His hands moved towards where Cuddles liked to curl up on him but they found nothing. Harry clasped his hands together, to keep from continuing the restless motions.

"Forty-nine is madness… I know that now. It's either a mad masterwork by Slytherin or it's going to end horribly." His eyes were a bit hollow and his face a bit despondent. He was trying to keep up hope and while he had confidence that Salazar wouldn't have created this chamber, amessing all his personal library and writing a memoir in parseltongue, all to thwart and destroy any that bore the same magical gift as him. That didn't make a lick of sense.

"The bigger worry is that I've messed up somewhere along the line," Harry voiced, these concerns had been eating at him since even before the ominous words of the Sorting Hat.

Daphne gave him a reassuring smile, her eyes radiating warmth as he cheeks worked to accommodate the widening of her mouth. "I doubt you have. When rituals go wrong, they normally go really wrong. We'd know if you were a hopeless case," she told him with authority.

"I'm glad you're watching the rituals, I feel better knowing I'm not going it alone anymore with them. I wish I'd thought of asking you sooner," Harry meant those words. If there was a big test coming then having Daphne around to watch out for him was beyond prudent.

"It's been fascinating. The complexity is astounding. Do you think you are supposed to do either of the virginity rituals as part of the set?" There was a slight quiver in her lip just after she finished asking and Harry wasn't quite certain he knew what she felt when she had asked the question.

That was the question wasn't it. Salazar never included things like this just because he felt like it. It was obvious that they were not part of the six regular ritual sets but they could be a part of the special seven. There were a few more of those to go and he didn't have a clue as to what they were, he never did until it was needed.

Could he even do that? There were not that many weeks left before he'd complete the rituals. They would be done in the middle of April, and as far as that may sound, it really wasn't that far away.

"I-I thought to make Natalia do the first one. If it converts her to be faithful to me, first and foremost, then I can trust her fully. If it overpowers any oaths she has to her family, then she can actually work with us, and be trusted by us." Harry knew he had a blush, there was no way he could think of sex and Natalia in the same sentence and not have a reaction of some kind. He saw that Daphne had a pink tinge to her cheeks too.

"Are you sure that's wise? Salazar may have had a better ritual to fill the spot, you can only do forty-nine." Daphne asked, a frown maring her pretty face.

Harry ran his hands back through his hair, starting from his forehead, "No I'm not perfectly sure that it's the best idea. But I can't just keep sitting around waiting for Riddle to come back and his supporters to flock to him!" Harry didn't know the path he had now chosen was the correct one. It seemed to be the correct path forward, to him, but he didn't know. How could he? Everything is so easy to second guess afterward; all he could do was make the best decisions with what was known to him at the time and learn from any mistakes he made.

"What if the ritual isn't strong enough? What if it makes her loyal to you but still beholden to her family? What if the reason it fell out of use was that it wasn't as useful as it sounds?" Daphne asked. Harry couldn't tell what she was getting at. It sounded like she may be using her knowledge on rituals and giving advice. Yet, knowing that, it didn't stop this nagging feeling like there was more going on here.

Daphne had been the one to win Natalia over, to take advantage of the obvious split between Fleur and Natalia at the Yule Ball. If she had aspirations to win his affections then creating a split between them only made sense, strategically. Now that Natalia had won over Fleur, was Daphne now turning to create further discord between himself and Natalia?

A part of him thought that the Greengrass family might have been the one to get Hermione out of the picture. It didn't feel like something the Delacours would do. It could have been something that the Pavlov's had done and he thought it was likely one of the two of them. Slughorn had helped him work through the logic and the best thing they could come up with was that someone wanted Hermione out of his circle of friends. Someone needed her away so that Harry would be alone and vulnerable.

Anyone at Hogwarts would have been able to deduce he and Ron were on the outs as soon as his name came out. If anyone was concerned that Hermione had the inside track on winning a romantic race for Harry's heart, then during his absence would be the time to make their play. Getting her out of the country was a logical step, winning over her parents was key as well. If Hermione was worried Harry wouldn't be friends with her then her anchor to Hogwarts would be gone. Slughorn was still looking into it and was going to have an old friend of his make contact in America.

"All you've been doing is hiding in the Chamber," Daphne pointed out, much of Harry's earlier annoyance reared itself back to the forefront. He was bothered by a number of things lately and let his unhappiness with the situation between Fleur and he take over. Things were different now and he didn't like the changes his actions had wrought.

It was one thing to know things between him and Fleur wouldn't stay the same but it was another to experience them. The bright spot of some of his days, finishing his work and then heading up into Hogwarts proper, sitting down for lunch and feeling Fleur come up behind him, her soft hands caressing him and a kiss being pressed into his cheek as she sat down. Little moments like that were absent, gone, replaced by furious looks.

"Well then, maybe it's time I do something. No more sitting around and talking about it. No more stalling and holding off on my plans. Maybe it's time for some bloody action." Harry expressed his own thoughts out loud as resolve grew in the pit of his stomach and grew from there, his eyes hardening and his face going rigid.

"What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what I said," he bit out. "Do you all think me so simple that I can't see what's been going on?" he almost spat out. "That Patrice is trying to stop my plans with Malfoy from going forward so that I can reconsider my decision for including the Pavlovs? Do you really think I don't know that Cyrus is intentionally taking his time to get all the numbers done? I talked with Arvid and he's not been given instructions to even start preparing anything," Harry had his own correspondance with Ackerly, he wasn't staying ignorant and fully hands off on the legal, political and financial side. He knew he could trust them to not betray him but that did not mean they couldn't act in what they believed was best for him, against what Harry actually wanted them to do.

Daphne paled at Harry's words. She obviously was aware of the stalling tactics, she might even be complicit. Harry had noticed, on more than one occasion, that things he discussed with Daphne would be known by Cyrus. To Harry, it didn't feel like she was spying on him, more just keeping her father informed. It wasn't something to be wary of, in Harry's opinion, it was something to be aware of, however.

"I laid it out to them. I'm bringing in the Pavlov's and Malfoy is the ticket to prove I'm serious about doing what's necessary to win." His jaw was set and his mind made up. Harry rose from the chair. He shouldn't have waited to do this for so long. He needed to act and act now.

"Where are you going?" Daphne blurted out with urgency.

"Malfoy Manor." Harry replied tersely and as he did so he summoned his bag, the one containing his Deathly Hallow. He took brisk strides and gathered everything else he had planned for this. He was just missing a single item but he would go into the muggle world for it first. While he was there, he may as well get some food as the plan was going to be happening after dinner.

Harry pulled out his cloak, one that Daphne wouldn't know as it wasn't the one the Delacours could attest to giving him. He looked back at Daphne, her face flittered between horror and worry. She appeared to be on the verge of saying something but Harry wasn't going to let her get in another word before his departure.

"Better run and tell Cyrus, he'll need to know I'm done waiting," with his final words said, he threw on the cloak and most of him vanished, he didn't actually want to make use of it until he was re-entering Hogwarts. He stepped out of the door and threw a strong locking spell on it, knowing Daphne wouldn't be able to overpower it and it would last only a few minutes, he just needed a clean getaway.

Harry took a deep breath. This was it.

Dobby had popped him well outside the ward line and he was making his way, step by step towards the Malfoy grounds. It had taken a few minutes to hike his way through the surrounding forest but he had done it.

It was a strange thing he was experiencing. He couldn't see anything different. His eyes were deceiving him. Just from the looks of things there was a wild growth field in front of him. It had looked this way since he'd been able to make anything out past the treeline.

While his sight was telling his brain one thing, his magical senses were telling him something entirely different. There was an unmistakable feeling of strong protective magic. He could feel the wards, every step brought him closer and the feeling grew stronger. He couldn't be more than fifty yards from the wardline now.

He felt it and as he got closer, he could feel other flavors of magic, most of them dark, deadly and oppressive. His skin prickled and his hair was standing on edge. As he trudged forward, his thoughts raced.

This was his first real field test of his family heirloom. He remembered the tests, he knew what he expected to happen but there was no margin of error here. He either was going to walk through the wards unmolested or he was going to die a very painful death.

Harry's throat felt constricted, his breathing was becoming labored, faster and shallower than it should be, he was far too in shape, physically, for this to be happening. He could feel his shirt was sticking to him, his body beginning to perspire, though he was not, as of yet, sweating. His heart was hammering in his chest; it was so loud he couldn't hear hit footfalls any longer.

He tried to control his breathing, force himself to breathe deeply, slowly, to force himself to calm. He'd been in life and death situations before. He could handle this. He'd be fine. He had tested this with Fleur and knew this would work.

If that was so, why were his hands so clammy, why was he so bloody nervous that the burger and fries he'd scarfed down earlier were trying to make a reappearance.

As much as Harry wanted to equate this to his previous life and death circumstances, this one was different. He wasn't trying to save a philosopher's stone, he wasn't saving his best mates's little sister, he wasn't saving himself, and others, from hordes of soul sucking dementors, and he wasn't facing down a horde of Acromantulas that wanted to rip his and his companion's limbs off. All of the circumstances had a forced aspect to it. He had to do something or else .

There was no or else here. Harry had tried to bring it up to equality with the others, with his own justifications, but even he couldn't deceive himself. This was premeditated murder. This was the first preemptive strike in a conflict he hoped he could end before it began.

Sure, the piece of shit deserved death, dozens of times over even, but who made Harry Potter judge, jury and executioner? If he was going to just kill off his opponents, where would he stop? What gave him the right to decide for some and not for others?

Harry shook his head and kept his feet moving forward, the air being more and more saturated with magic with each step. He didn't need to get into another moral debate within his head again, he'd been torturing himself enough with that. No doubt the sanctimonious Dumbledore would say this was the path to becoming like Riddle. He'd told Harry it was his choices that kept him from being the second coming of the Dark Lord.

He was almost at the fulcrum point. He could feel the buzz of magic, his hairs were standing on end. Harry shut his eyes and pulled his cloak tighter. This was it, he dared not to reach his hand forward because he knew it would connect with the wards.

Harry opened his eyes and found his vision hazy. His hands were jittery and he felt like he was on the verge of being sick.

This was it. Do or die, literally.

He didn't dare take a full step, he couldn't risk the tip of his toes coming out from under the cloak and being put under the effects of the wards. He didn't want to know what was going to happen. He could feel the sinister enchantments better now. They made him shiver, they made his body quake, knowing he was going to be in for a quick and incredibly painful end. All his work, all his planning, the entirety of his parent's sacrificed in a single second if he was wrong about this.

His trousers clung to his legs, his feet inched forward, his head was bowed and staring at his feet. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. All of his will was forcing him forward.

This was going to work.

It had to.

He couldn't die a virgin. He couldn't die making his first proactive move of his life.

He kept pushing forward the feeling of magic reaching its height. He was right in the middle of the ward.

He shut his eyes and let out a breath, exhaling out a massive chunk of the stress he had just been under. As the breath escaped his lungs he could feel his whole body loosening, relaxing.

That didn't mean he was through, he still had to be ultra careful.

Harry kept inching forward until he was sure he was fully through the wardline.

Once clear, he lowered himself to the ground, his knees finding the immaculate grass and his bum resting on his heels.

Theoretically he knew he would be okay but apparently his body had not agreed. He needed to stop and center himself. This had to go off without a hitch. He couldn't leave a trace of his magic, meaning no use of his wand, and he could not allow noise or physical objects to stop him.

This was really an impossible task without Dobby's inside knowledge. It was beyond stupid to just allow the elf to leave their service. The pompous pureblood would now pay for mistreating his elf for so many years.

He'd gone over the plan with Dobby, over and over and over again. He'd broken it down into stages. He'd gotten through the wards, stage one complete. Harry was now onto stage two, crossing the grounds.

There weren't magical traps, there were no bloodhounds roaming around the grounds, searching for a scent, all he had to worry about was being seen. The Malfoy grounds were a part of the prestigious effects meant to show off their wealth and power. Acres of manicured landscaping tirelessly maintained by the elves.

He had to cross an acre of ground that any of the South facing windows would see. It wasn't traps that were the concern, but the elves and someone noticing his approach. He'd chosen dusk for a reason, the sun was setting and any impressions he made in the lawn should be unnoticeable.

The Potter heir had considered going in the dark but had thought better of it. It would be more difficult to see and navigate the shrubs, fountains, peacocks and elves. He couldn't allow himself to bump into anything, to allow a disturbance that was noticeable.

Harry took a look around again, it was exactly as Dobby had described it. Nothing had changed in the time he had been away, nothing that he could tell anyway. He had to admit it was a lovely landscape. Rows of hedges without even a leaf out of place, grass that was perfectly uniform and was thick and lush. Stone fountains were around and all looked to be in a perfect state. The streams of water shooting out with crystal clear water, the noise tranquill.

He knew how much work this was, he'd tended to his Aunt's garden for years. House Elves were beyond wonderful creatures. He loved Dobby and appreciated him greatly.

His heart rate was far more tolerable now. It was still elevated above the norm but it was no longer beating with such intensity that he could feel his own pulse. His breathing was deep and through his nose, he wasn't heaving breaths. The most nerve wracking part of the infiltration was over. He still had to stay under his cloak the entire time, to prevent detection and being affected by any magical defenses, within the home and wards, but there should only be one real possibility of mishap here tonight, provided everything went according to plan.

The one thing he couldn't fully control was whether the blighter was even home or not. Harry couldn't help but think this would be an awful lot of trouble for nothing if that was the case.

Worry and doubt filled his head. If his cloak snagged on a bush he could be detected, if he bumped into something and knocked it over they would know an intruder is there, a portrait would more than likely notice any disturbance.

He'd planned this. He'd prepared for this. He'd walked up and down the Chamber of Secrets, the area where he'd met the sixteen year old Tom Riddle. Walking up and down the stone in the silent room. Learning how to keep his feet from making noise as they stepped down. He had to ensure his feet never dragged and he could never allow the cloak to become unfastened and expose himself. Hour after hour he had practiced.

This wasn't a last minute gamble.

No doubt Daphne was informing Cyrus. Cyrus would contact Horace and Patrice. They'd wait for him to be done and hope that their only hope to defeat the mad man wasn't getting himself convicted of murdering a pureblood Head of House. If he bungled the attempt, he was more than likely going to be dead, this wasn't something that was allowed a margin for error.

In no time, with his thoughts running wild, he made it across the grass, neatly avoiding any flower beds, bushes, and fountains. He'd kept off the stone pathways, Dobby had said the elves monitor them for cleanliness periodically, it would never do for Lucius, Narcissa or Draco to see even a single blade of grass along their stone walkways through their grounds.

Harry squinted his eyes as he looked around for the entrance that he was supposed to find. There was a ground level stone deck that had a low railing. The entrance, from within the home, was an open air door. There was magic in place to keep the temperature inside as it was meant to be and the wind was kept at bay as well, unless they wanted a breeze to come through the home. It was an obscenely ostentatious feature and entirely unnecessary.

But it suited his purpose perfectly . How else would he have broken in undetected? Would he have had to have hoped for an open window? Would he have to sneak in through the front doors? The elves popped from the interior to the exterior. The Malfoys used the floo or apparated to leave, they didn't exit the home like muggles anytime they wanted to go somewhere.

He made his way onto the deck, being ever so careful to not step out of his cloak. The flat of his shoes slowly making their way down from the railing onto the decking. His descent was as it needed to be, silent and without disturbance.

Harry peered in through the windows, this was the great room, the room they'd host balls and major events. The room being large enough for the entire Dursley home. The wealth on the walls, statues, pictures, portraits, and other items would be worth more than it as well. Harry ignored them all. He cared not for their accumulation of trophies and wealth on display.

It was as if making it through the grounds was a walk in the park. Now that he was in the home, proper, his heartbeat picked up again. His wand slipped into his hand, though he'd do everything he could to not need it. If it came down to it though… if he was detected… he would not be dying quietly tonight, not after he made it through the wards.

If things went horribly wrong, Malfoy Manor would meet Cuddles. The little dragon was in his bag and this place would get a full dose of draconic destruction if he was caught here. It was the entirety of his backup plan. It was pretty damn straightforward, if detected, release a fucking dragon in their home and burn the whole place to the ground. Smash the foundations and make it a smoldering wreck, a tribute to just how deadly a dragon could be.

It took far more self control than he was willing to admit to not let the little dragon become a massive dragon that was going on a rampage. He'd love to see Draco's face when he heard a dragon levelled his home and reduced his parents to ash, blown away in the wind. Let him see if he could keep his cocky attitude and his sense of invulnerability because he was a Malfoy then.

Harry blinked and cleared his thoughts of that idea, no matter how appealing it was. He needed to make it out of the room. Dobby had given him strict instructions. He made his way to the left, upon entering the room, and kept to the outside of the room. His eyes scanned left and right, he felt twitchy and he could scarcely breath for fear of being overheard.

Forcibly, he kept his body under control, he couldn't lose composure, not here, not now.

Step by step he made his way across the ludicrously large room. He saw portraits moving, he could see the effects of a gentle breeze outside the windows as the last rays of sunshine came pouring in through the windows.

Harry finally crept his way out of the room and made his way into the main entry hall. He looked at the stairs and bit back a curse. He had to make it all the way up to the master level, the third level of the home. He made it to the base of the stairs without issue and began the long ascent. Step by step, he had to be oh, so very careful .

This was the main part of the home. If he knocked over anything in this entry hall the entire home would hear it. Besides that, the walls were littered with portraits. People moved, they watched, they talked and each one was a potential downfall for him.

Harry's right foot landed on the top step of the second level and he slowly shifted his weight to it, his fingers squeezing his wand and his offhand held his cloak forward, allowing his legs free movement in front of him, so they never fell out of the cloak for even a fraction of a second.

Harry crept around to the landing of the second staircase and shut his eyes. He pictured himself flying through the air, just for the fun of it. He let his mind calm, his heart rate slow, he lowered his breathing rate and got himself under control again. This was far more nerve-wrecking than he'd thought it could've possibly been.

It was hard to be nervous when you were fleeing from a basilisk. There wasn't time to think when a whole colony of spiders descended upon you. Adrenaline took over and you did what you had to do to survive. But this wasn't like that.

There was no fight or flight . He was choosing not to flee, he was consciously undertaking a harrowing and dangerous task. Harry was suppressing his will to battle. He could unleash his restrained magic, he could create transfigured creations that would shield him and wreak havoc across the home. He could allow Cuddles to grow to her full size and demolish this home but he couldn't. He didn't allow his body to rule him, his iron will kept him focused and on task. Sneak into the study of Lucius Malfoy and end him .

He was up another set of stairs, his footwork had been flawless thus far and he was fully undetected. He slowly moved down the hallway, each motion carefully measured and meticulous. Dobby had been insistent on this part. The hallway was wider than the normal homes he had been in, but they were not so wide that a quick entrance from one of the rooms could lead to him being bumped into. All along the walls were displays, he saw plates, plaques, trophies, swords, armor, paintings, portraits, vases, stone statues and more as he stared down the hallway.

He had to make it all the way down to the end. The final doors on the opposite ends of the hallway being the master bedroom and the master study. Narcissa had her own room, for her own uses, though she did share a bed with Lucius on occasion, according to Dobby anyways. Draco's room was the second on the right, right beside his mommy's room. He wanted to snicker at that, and had when Dobby told him, but he couldn't allow for that noise now.

In some ways this hallway was the easiest of all. There was a carpet that was probably worth more than he was willing to consider that kept it so easy to keep from making noise. Yet, at the same time, the narrowness, compared to the wide staircase and massive rooms on the main floor, could quickly become an issue. If someone suddenly exited a room, he'd have very little space to avoid them. If a pair of people walked side by side then Harry would have to hug the wall to be certain he'd not be blocking them. With all the objects on stands along the corridor, that would be troublesome.

Harry shut his eyes and took another deep breath, opening them when he was finished exhaling. This was it. The final hurdle to cross to get where he needed to be.

He stalked forward, carefully, silently. Each step as quiet as he could be. He moved around a suit of armor and kept to the left wall, only breaking out from the wall to avoid objects. He could feel his body wanting to elevate his heart rate, he could feel the nervous tension across all his muscles, no part of him was actually in a relaxed state. His senses were hyper aware.

Oh, how he wished to use his wand. Bringing to life the armour, animating it and hardening it to magical attacks all in one swish of his wand. How he longed to withdraw Cuddles and let her fly forward and scout for him, burning anything that dared to move in the room. He wished he could unleash his magic but he couldn't. Stealth was the name of the game, no matter how much he wished it wasn't.

Harry was now past the first few rooms and he was sneaking past Draco's. He had to suppress a snicker. On the door was an overly romanticized green and silver dragon. How fucking cliché. What pompous arses these lot were. If Draco was anything, he was a flobberworm. He was built to slither on the ground and eat dirt while serving at the whims of others. He and his ilk were naught but cannon fodder for the ranks of the delusional Dark Lord.

Harry was broken out of his thoughts by something that equally worried and excited him. He could hear a voice, a female voice coming from what Dobby had told him was Nacissa Malfoy's room.

Harry decided to pick up his speed, he wanted to get to the far wall at the end of the hallway as soon as possible. If it wasn't the right timing, he wanted to be in position to see or hear what was going on and be as close as possible for when the setting was just right for him to make his move.

Getting past the next set of doors was when he could hear the muttering the most. It must be Narcissa Malfoy, this was her room that the voice was coming from. She was talking to herself though he could not make the words out through the mostly closed door.

He paused his movements and quickly debated the merits of trying to peek into her room or not. If there was someone else in there with her then it would be best that he was aware of it. His wand itched in his hands and he leveled it at the door, from under his cloak, just in case it came to that.

WIth a muted sigh he knew staying hidden was far more important, he crept down the hall, all the while keeping his ears strained for any more noises. His heart was hammering in his chest again, he was in position, at the end of the hall.

This was actually going to happen.

Harry prepared himself mentally. All he had to do was slip into Malfoy's study and then wait for the opportunity. He glanced at the door and then blinked in realization.

There was a door. And the door was closed .

Fuck!

What an oversight! Dobby had told him about how the entry into the study would not allow anyone to enter that didn't have permission. Harry knew it was warded, much like Arcturus' old office was but he had forgotten to consider there was an actual bloody door!

What the bloody hell was he going to do now? Wait for someone to open it for him and then slip in? What if Lucius left by floo, or what if he wasn't even here in the first place!

Harry was distracted from his understandable freak out when he saw someone exiting Narcissa's room.

Oh, Merlin! He wanted to groan, he wanted to tear his eyes away but he just… couldn't.

Narcissa Malfoy had come out of her room and had turned, striding purposefully right towards Harry. It was like she was a model walking down the runway. A Victorian lingerie model that is.

Harry's eyes bulged as he took in the sight. She was wearing pink negligee, the base fabric was see through and showing off her supple figure, more than any decent woman would ever allow anyone other than their husband to see. A row of frilly lace dropped down from the shoulders and covered her bustline, flowers accentuating the beauty of the clothing and a bow was centered right in the middle of her two breasts.

Every step she took, he could see the upper parts of her boobs bouncing, they were virtually unrestrained. Harry swallowed, hard, and couldn't keep his eyes from drifting lower. The silk fabric fell from the only place it was tight against her body, her chest, and the bottom parts of the shirt ballooned out and bounced off the tops of her hips as she moved, all the skin of her taut stomach being easily visible through the sheer soft-pink silk.

The top didn't even cover more than the very top of her thighs. Her smooth pale legs were on full display, just a hint of fabric from her sheer silk panties blocked a few millimeters of them. It was mesmerizing watching those long legs move, her high heels helping to accentuate things further.

Harry tore his thoughts away from the blonde bombshell walking towards him.

He couldn't be caught. He couldn't allow this to distract him!

But for Merlin's sake, did she have to be so fucking hot? This was Narcissa Malfoy! She was supposed to be Draco's mom, cold, aloof and an unattractive bitch.

Not… this.

If there was a time to thank Slughorn's underhanded forced tutelage on not bowing to the whims of his sex addled hormones, it was now.

Harry steeled himself and kept focused. There was only one place Narcissa could be headed.

He watched as she continued and kept his ogling under control, that's not to say he didn't ogle her though, he was a male teenager and the woman, on almost full display, looked closer to twenty than forty. Her hair was done up with a white silk crown sitting on top of her blonde hair, keeping it off her face but allowing it to drop down to the sides of her face, upon her shoulders and down her back.

It was like there was a war being fought within him. One part of him was nervous as all be that there was someone approaching him and he had to push himself as far away as possible, to avoid discovery. While a whole other part of him, one fueled by libidinous thoughts, wanted nothing more than to get closer, to improve the view.

He kept chanting over and over in his head 'this is Draco's mom!' He hoped his body would cooperate and want nothing to do with the place between her legs that Draco had been birthed from.

Yes! That was working, think of Draco's pale ass face coming out from there.

Wait! Why in the name of Merlin's saggy bollocks would he ever voluntarily think about that.

He had to stay on task, be focused, and put his training with Lucia to good use. He could stay in control and not let his hormones rule him.

Harry slowly crept back and put his back against the wall, he would be a few feet away from her and his heart couldn't stop racing. As great as his mental game was at keeping himself out of his lustful urges's control, she was still a damn fine specimen of womanhood.

Narcissa got to the door and slipped her wand out, from who knows where, since he didn't think there was enough fabric to hide anything in, and used a silent spell to knock for entry. Harry smirked under his invisibility cloak, a pureblood witch like her wouldn't sully her hands with knocking like a muggle.

His eyes dipped down her body, the unbroken line of silk frills, the one that covered her bust and rose up over her shoulders dropped down and circled together right at the crest of her pert rear. The entirety of her back was open, her flawless skin of full display.

She had twisted ninety degrees to face the door and Harry was facing her at a forty-five degree angle from behind her. It was a perfectly horrible angle. The line of frills covered the front of her breasts but left the entire side open, open and on full display for him. His eyes sunk lower though.

However little fabric covered between her legs, in the front, there was less covering her delectable arse and it was horrendously, gloriously, see through!

His eyes were glued to her rear! He couldn't look away!

It just hadn't ever dawned on him how sexy an arse could be!

With Fleur, he'd kneaded hers while they made out but the majority of his attention had been his complete fascination with her well developed chest. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't really spent any time focusing on that part of her anatomy, nor any other girls.

Well, that's not completely true… now that he thought about it. He had noticed his teammates's arses when they were on broomstick, a couple of the Hufflepuffs and especially Cho's…

Huh, did that make him an arse man?

His eyes focused back after his wandering thoughts and they took in the incredible form of Draco's mom's shapely rear.

Yeah. He'd have no problems if he was an arse over tits kinda guy.

But that wasn't necessarily true of him. He couldn't stop himself from admiring the side of her bust and he'd never given Fleur's rear nearly as much thought as her fabulous breasts.

Harry mentally shook himself. What in the bloody hell was he doing!

His mind was debating the merits between being an arse or tits man all while perving on Draco's mom. Draco's mom, for Merlin's sake!

A corner of his mind whispered, within his thoughts, that if this wasn't Draco's mom, it would've be like the best free show of his life, not including the awkwardness of his time with Lucia and Fleur or the fact that she was part Veela and that might not be fair to witches everywhere, to be measured up against a magical race known for their unearthly beauty.

There was definitely something wrong with Harry, he knew it for certain now.

Here he was, in the middle of an operation that would lead to the death of someone, for certain, and he's being a hormonal teenager and the fix for that was to beat himself for being hormonal instead of focusing?!

This moment was lasting too long, it was too surreal! Answer the damned door you evil ingrate, Lucius Malfoy! How the bloody hell could he allow such a fine specimen of femininity just linger at his door!

If there was one thing Harry could be entirely thankful for, it was that somehow, amazingly, he kept quiet through this whole endeavor, that no part of him slipped out of the cloak. It was a bloody miracle!

His heart was racing again and he didn't want to even dwell on how much of it was sexual excitement and how much was that he was possibly, hopefully, finding a way to gain entry to where his final objective was.

He would not think about it.

Most definitely not, he'd focus on hardening himself for what he needed to do and keeping his wand at the ready.

Oh Merlin. His thoughts were betraying him! They were on point but filled with all manners of sexual innuendo! He couldn't escape it!

Mercifully the door opened widely and a voice broke the silence.

"Come in, darling." No matter how much of an endearing kind of affectionate way of referring to his wife that was, his dismissive and annoyed tone made it in no way either of those things. Though Harry could only see one eye, he saw it flash with anger and he could see a slight blush across all of her body.

What was he about to walk in on? Harry was aghast, just now realizing she was not dressed like this because it was a comfortable outfit. His stomach threatened to spew its contents once more. Harry's free hand shot to his mouth and he couldn't suppress the involuntary gags.

No. Not this. He didn't want to see them trying to make a mini-Draco.

Narcissa stepped into the room, her tight arse bouncing in a heavenly way, attracting Harry's attention, his body not able to figure out if this is a wonderful or terrible thing.

Harry swallowed and hoped it was enough to keep from gagging again. He had a decision to make and it had to be made in a split second. Should he enter the room, yes or no?

His heart was trying to beat out of his chest and he could feel himself freeze up as indecision overtook him.

Harry took a small quick step forward. He hadn't come this far to back down now. As fast as he dared to move, Harry made his way into the room, the door hadn't closed, if it had closed while he was in the doorway… no, that didn't bear thinking about.

Harry looked around and wasn't surprised at how large the room was, how it was filled with displays of wealth and ornate furniture. Harry saw, through the next set of doors, Lucius Malfoy. The man was sitting behind his desk, a quill in his hand, and his head buried, focusing on the parchment that was in front of him. The man hadn't even noticed his wife walking towards him.

No, walking wasn't the right word, Harry's mind rejected that idea totally. Narcissa was prowling toward the man. Her feet walking in a single perfect line, one high heel moving in front of the other in practiced, sexy and somehow aggressive movements.

If Lucius had looked up, he would have had to have callously ignored the incredible sight before him. Merlin, the woman wasn't trying to seduce him and Harry was having a hard enough time keeping the rational components of his brain working. The pleasure and disgust centers of his brain warring against one another.

Harry saw he really only had one option. If Lucius closed those doors, he would never get in. He had to take another chance and creep his way into the corner. If there was a God, he prayed that He would be merciful and he wouldn't be stuck sitting through the rutting of Draco's parents.

How Lucius didn't bother to look up from his paper, when his wife had just prowled into the room Harry could never understand. How fucking humiliating would that be for Narcissa. She was all dressed up, like a Victorian whore, doing her utmost to entice her husband and he didn't even have enough respect to greet the woman when she entered into his office.

What a prick!

Nevertheless, Harry was glad it had occurred this way. With Narcissa not facing him, she was focused on her husband, and Lucius not looking up, neither of them stood a chance at detecting him. If Lucius noticed anything, out of the corner of his eye, his wife would be the obvious source, not the undetectable, by magic, Boy-Who-Is-About-To-Murder-You.

This entire sequence had been an incredible stroke of luck. If she hadn't been coming in here, Harry would have stood in that hallway for a long time, he may have not even gotten a chance, with the man being locked away in his office.

Narcissa cleared her throat and Harry smirked, he was now in the back corner of the room. Unless Lucius needed something from the bookshelf behind him, he should be good to stay standing where he was. Given what was in front of him, Harry's mind couldn't come up with a single reason why he'd want a dusty old book over Draco's far too enticing mother.

"What can I do for you, darling?" He drawled out in a superior tone without even looking up. The man deserved to be murdered just on principle for continuing to ignore the blonde beauty in front of him.

"I've had enough, husband ." If Harry was her husband, the acid words would have startled him.

Lucius' response was a single dismissive wave of his free hand, his other one was using the quill to scratch things onto the parchment he had yet to take his eyes off of.

She wasn't accepting that. Narcissa leaned over the desk and slammed her palms onto the desk. The move startled Harry.

Lucius Malfoy looked up now, his eyes taking in her appearance, he must have noticed the fury in his wife's face, at being so completely dismissed, and if he was a man that had any interest in women he'd notice how the solitary line of silk that had kept her breasts covered failed to do so now.

Harry's breath stilled. The line of fabric that had been keeping her chest covered, had slipped beneath and all that was keeping them from being totally bare was the see-through soft-pink silk.

"I've let you run this family. I've let you have full autonomy and even, to my great shame, let you fill our son's head with the supposed superiority of the Malfoy name. You've ignored my advice, you've set the stage for our ruin, " she growled, her chest heaving.

Harry did his best, he gave it at least a token effort, but, no matter how much he wanted to resist, that growling and those perfect pink nipples on those pale breasts drew the entirety of his attention. He should be planning, he should be preparing to be ready for anything but he couldn't. His body was betraying him, he had to stare at the blonde enchantress in front of him.

"Odd, I didn't hear you complaining when I grew our wealth to unforeseen heights. I didn't hear any complaints when I paid for your trips, your jewelry and all manners of frivolities. In fact, I didn't hear you say anything against our son when he returned from Hogwarts as one of the top scoring students." How the man dropped his eyes and focused back on his work when she was in front of him, Harry couldn't comprehend.

Harry watched in amazement as Narcissa shifted tactics so readily. She stood up, fixed her top, and then sat down in the chair to her right, her bare legs crossing oh so very elegantly.

"Really?" She asked with a deceptively calm voice. "You don't recall me saying how using bribery was a short term option for political power? That cultivating allies or gaining lasting blackmail material would be better off in the long run?" She raised a finger to the top of her chest and then began running it around her chest, tracing the lines of her bosom. If the movements were meant to entice and draw the ire of a straight male, it was working, just not on the person she thought was the only other in the room with her.

"You don't remember me saying that your bribing is destroying our liquidity and if you kept it up, we could be in real trouble?" It was so very clear that her soft spoken words were filled with venom.

Harry hadn't been focused on Lucius, why would he have been? However, the second the man's hand slammed on the desk, Harry shifted his gaze to him, who knows what actions a volatile man might take.

It was obvious the man was angry, his face was red and he looked livid. "And what would you have me do now? We are where we are at. All I can do is exactly what I am already doing, which is working to fix this mess, so the Malfoy name remains strong and prominent." He grit out.

Regardless of his anger, she pressed on, "How many lawsuits are we facing? How many are lining up now that Fudge has been removed from power and can't protect you?" Narcissa had stopped running her fingers across her body, to Harry, it seemed as though she'd given up on trying to seduce her husband. She was the perfection of composure, sitting with perfect posture and her face a blank mask, only her words gave anything away, being filled with equal parts concern and amusement.

"I don't know," Harry could hear just how much he loathed to admit that. "I'm meeting our representation tomorrow and trying to prepare for it now." Lucius added almost under his breath.

"Have you sent a letter to your son yet, updating him on our situation?" Harry didn't miss how she referred to Draco as Lucius' son, not their joint son, when Narcissa asked with no pity nor concern for her own circumstance. When she didn't get an immediate reply, she pressed on. "With the Potter boy's scores at the ICW, and they are not fabricated, I checked, he had best learn that the only way to compete against him now is with financial and political power, two areas where your son has no natural ability." Harry was struck by her words, her distancing from Draco and her almost complimentary words on his abilities, it surprised him.

"I've already sent another letter. With Cyrus overtly joining him we cannot afford Draco antagonizing him." Harry couldn't see his face this time but he imagined those words were difficult to accept.

"Yes, the new Regent Black will have the House of Malfoy bent right over. I won't ask if you plan to request his aid, but do you plan to grovel to Cyrus and at least ask for some lubricant?" The casual way she threw out the words made Harry's jaw drop. He had no idea what their marriage had been like but if this conversation was indicative of anything, it was just a political match with no love between them, maybe even a contempt-filled union.

Lucius had an ugly sneer on his face as he glared at his wife. "Did you come here dressed," he sneered the word, "like a wanton whore to offer your body to someone instead of them suing us?" There was no kindness in his words.

Narcissa stood up, her chin held high as she brought herself to full height, and let out a tinkling laugh. "No, dear husband. I'm a Black. There will be cause for the dissolution of our marriage and I'll be asking for it," she let the words sink in before turning to depart the room.

After a few steps, just as she was exiting out the doors to the inner office she stopped and turned back. And goodness did she look alluring, her arse on full display, her upper torso turned, to give a significant view of her chest and tight body, "I just thought you might be interested in fucking someone one last time, we both know you're about to be royally fucked by all your former associates." With that parting shot she swept out of the room, closing the door to the hall, Harry's eyes watched her swaying rear the entire way out of the office, he might not have been the only one.

Harry shut his jaw and a large smile blossomed on his face. He now had a heads up that Narcissa was going to request to become a Black again. But, more importantly, Lucius' jaw was open and he was all alone, completely unaware of his surroundings.

Harry knew this was his chance. Narcissa couldn't come back, not that she would, with the door now closed, unless Lucius allowed it. The man was vulnerable in his inner sanctum and he had no idea.

Harry's grin turned feral.

He'd been so nervous about this. Killing Lucius was going to be deliberate and done in cold blood. This was something that he had struggled with. His mind had battled all week, was he just another Riddle in training? Was killing your enemies like this morally wrong? What would his parents think?

Ever since the plan was concocted, he had struggled with wondering if he could even do the final deed. He had not expected Narcissa to be here just before he did the deed and there was no way he had fantasized about the woman being dressed like that. But it worked to his advantage.

He'd told himself he'd just do it and deal with the consequences later. His mind had been so entranced by Draco's mom's body that he hadn't had the time to worry. Now, with the perfect opportunity, he put the final parts of his plan into place.

He slipped his wand back into the holster, he wouldn't be using that now.

He calmed himself and focused, intent, willpower, creativity and power. He worked them all in conjunction and a silent wandless petrification spell left his hand, taking Lucius completely unaware.

Harry had seen the man's cane was propped against the desk beside him. Without his wand he was helpless, not that he could do anything, when petrified, with it anyways.

Harry stepped forward and was careful to stay under the cloak. From his bag, he withdrew the muggle bars of fudge he'd picked hours earlier. With a wave of his hand, the fudge liquified and began to leave his cloak in a brown stream.

His timing had been perfect . Lucius' jaw was lowered and his mouth open. Harry carefully controlled the fudge and worked it into the man's mouth. Ounce after ounce entered his mouth and Harry kept it going, visualizing it running down his throat, through his trachea and into every bronchi.

There was too much, the liquified fudge couldn't be forced in anymore, not without bursting his lungs. Harry kept control of his magic and shifted it, allowing the fudge to cool and permanently block the Malfoy's air passages.

He could hear Lucius gagging, trying to breath but there was no use. He was drowning in fudge. He was going to drown in fudge.

Harry didn't want to look, he didn't want to have the image of the man's final moments asphyxiation burned into his memory. There was only one way to exit the room, by the floo. Dobby told him it was open to exit from and Harry had tested that he would be able to floo out of a fireplace with his cloak on. How that worked, he had no idea but he wasn't going to complain.

Harry waited and counted down. He wondered if he should say something, a final taunt. His thoughts were torn between the mostly naked woman that had recently left the room and trying to keep his mind off of the fact he was in the process of murdering someone.

In the end, he kept silent. He wouldn't risk someone over hearing him. So far, if there was any recording magic working, all that could possibly be seen was fudge appearing from nowhere and Lucius choking. There would be no clues as to this being pulled off by Harry Potter.

Within a minute the man would be unconscious and within a few minutes he would be dead. He counted to sixty, twenty iterations of un, deux, trois, and then made his way to the floo. He stepped into the fire and thought his destination, The Leaky Cauldron, all with one final thought in his head.

If Lucius Malfoy had fucked his wife, one last time, he'd still be breathing.