When Harry exited Gringotts, he paused at the top of the stairs and looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath of the crisp, late-afternoon air. The fresh air helped clear his mind, and he let out a tired sigh. 'My life can never be simple, can it?' he thought wryly.
He debated returning to Grimmauld Place immediately but decided he needed a moment to himself. Grimmauld Place had been bustling with activity, and as much as Harry appreciated his friends, he often found solace in solitude. He made his way to Florian Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, ordering a strawberry sundae and tucking himself into a quiet corner.
As he slowly ate his ice cream, his mind churned through his most crucial tasks first, I need to write to Madam Bones and set up a meeting. The goblins made it clear there's some urgency to this contract. Once that's sorted... I'll figure out the rest as it comes.
Feeling slightly more centred, Harry finished his sundae and decided to make a quick stop at Flourish and Blotts. He picked out several books on wizarding etiquette and traditions. As he paid, he muttered under his breath, "Don't want to be caught off guard again."
The cashier gave him a curious look but said nothing as Harry shrank the books and pocketed them. He checked the time and stepped outside. 'I should probably get back', he thought, fighting back a yawn. He barely had time to register the strange spinning sensation before he found himself standing in the middle of Grimmauld Place.
Frowning, Harry climbed the steps to the bedroom he shared with Ron. 'How did I get here?' he wondered. Shaking off the thought, he entered the room, eager to put his books and documents in his trunk and draft a letter to Madam Bones before dinner.
Grateful to have avoided any encounters on his way upstairs, Harry let out a sigh of relief as he shut his bedroom door. He wasn't ready to face anyone just yet.
"You should head to Potter Manor as soon as you can, pup," Sirius's voice echoed in his mind. "It'll give you privacy to sort through everything, and your grandfather had an excellent training room in the cellar. You should make full use of it."
"You're right, Sirius," Harry muttered aloud. "I'll stay here tonight to let everyone know what's going on, and then I'll head to the manor in the morning."
He pulled out his quill and parchment, sitting at the desk by the window. Several drafts later, he finally produced a letter he thought was acceptable:
Dear Madam Bones,
You may not know this, but Sirius named me as his heir before his death, so I am now the Lord of House Black. As you might expect, becoming head of House Black has emancipated me, allowing me to claim the Potter lordship as well.
During my meeting with the goblins, it was brought to my attention that there is an unbreakable marriage contract between House Potter and House Bones that I must honour or lose my magic. I am writing to request a meeting with you to discuss this matter further. Please send Hedwig back with a place and time, and I will make myself available.
Kindly yours,
Lord Harry James Potter-Black
Hedwig landed on the back of his chair just as he finished.
"Hey, girl. Can you take this to Amelia Bones and wait for her response?" he asked, stroking her feathers. Hedwig hooted in agreement, nipping his fingers affectionately before taking off with the letter.
Harry leaned back, enjoying the quiet for a moment. 'Now, what do I tell the others?' he wondered.
Harry was lying on his bed, absorbed in a book on wizarding etiquette, when the door flew open. Ron barged in, Hermione close on his heels.
"Harry, mate! We didn't know you were back already," Ron said, looking confused.
"Um... yeah." Harry sat up awkwardly.
"Harry," Hermione cut in, her brow furrowed, "How did you get here? Everyone's downstairs waiting for you to come through the Floo from the Leaky Cauldron."
Harry hesitated. "I, uh, thought about Grimmauld Place, and then... I was here?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "WHAT?! You apparated?" she shrieked.
Harry flinched. "I don't know how it happened! One second, I was thinking about this place, and the next, I was standing in the foyer."
"How is that even possible?" Hermione asked, bewildered.
Harry explained the will reading, his emancipation, and the knowledge he'd gained from the house rings. "The goblins said it would take time and practice to control the magic from the rings, but... maybe that's how it happened?" he finished, blushing. "I was hoping you could help me research it, Hermione."
"Of course I'll help!" Hermione said, beaming.
"Well, we'd better tell the others you're back," Ron said, frowning slightly at their exchange.
"Just don't mention the apparating or the magic yet," Hermione suggested. "Say the goblins gave you a portkey instead."
"Good idea, Hermione," Harry said, patting her shoulder as he left the room.
At dinner, Harry explained the Gringotts visit, omitting the marriage contract.
"So this house is mine now?" Lupin asked, surprised.
"Yes," Harry said shyly. "I signed it over to you. Gringotts should send the paperwork tomorrow."
"Well then," Dumbledore interjected, "as the new owner, may we continue using it for the Order, Remus?"
"Of course," Lupin said, nodding.
"One more thing," Harry said, his voice steady. "As Lord Potter, I've decided to move to my family home tomorrow morning. I'll stay there until the school term starts."
Dumbledore's smile faltered. "Harry, I strongly advise against this. The blood wards at the Dursleys'—"
"I am not going back to the Dursleys!" Harry interrupted, his voice rising.
"But Harry—"
"No," Harry said firmly, his eyes blazing. "I'm legally an adult now, and this is my decision. If you want to discuss protections at the manor, fine, but I will not be returning to Privet Drive."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Harry's magic flared. Plates and silverware rattled slightly on the table.
"Very well," Dumbledore said, his voice carefully neutral.
"Once I've added you all to the manor wards, you're welcome to visit anytime," Harry said, offering a faint smile.
The tension eased, and the others nodded in agreement. For now, at least, the matter was settled.
O – o – o – o
When Harry woke the next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the ornate curtains of his bedroom in Grimmauld Place, painting the room in warm hues of gold. Hedwig sat gracefully on his bedpost, her head cocked to the side, watching him with intelligent amber eyes. She gave a gentle hoot, pecking at the blanket near his hand to wake him. Harry stirred, reaching out instinctively for his glasses on the bedside table.
With his vision clear, he smiled at the sight of his loyal owl holding a letter in her beak. He reached out and gently took it, stroking her feathers with a grateful hand.
"Thanks, girl," he murmured softly, carrying her to her perch where a treat awaited her. Hedwig nipped at his fingers affectionately before turning to enjoy her reward. Harry, now seated at the edge of his bed, opened the letter and began to read.
Dear Lord Potter-Black,
Congratulations on taking up your lordship, and my condolences on the loss of your godfather. Sirius was a good man when I knew him. I must admit that your letter came as quite a shock to me. I have been the Head of House Bones for many years and had never known of a marriage contract between our families. At first I thought it an elaborate prank, but I can't imagine anyone with the kahunas to prank the Director of Magical Law Enforcement. So, upon receipt of your letter, I contacted Gringotts, and to my surprise, they confirmed its existence. The goblins assured me that the contract is unbreakable.
While I may not entirely trust goblins, their accuracy regarding magical contracts is unparalleled. I have requested they send me a copy for review, though I do not anticipate finding loopholes. Are you available tomorrow at 1000 hours? You may Floo directly to Bones Manor using the password 'loyalty'. Please let me know if this time is convenient.
- Madam Amelia Bones
Harry folded the letter thoughtfully, his mind racing. He quickly penned a reply confirming the meeting and sent it off with Hedwig, who hooted cheerfully before disappearing out the window.
"Well, that's settled," he said to himself, stretching and suppressing a yawn.
After bidding farewell to Ron and Hermione, Harry apparated to Potter Manor, the knowledge granted by the family rings guiding his movements instinctively. He arrived with a faint pop in the grand entryway, and the sight before him stole his breath. The hall was vast, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings and gleaming chandeliers. A sweeping staircase of polished mahogany dominated the centre, its bannister carved with intertwining vines and small magical creatures that seemed to shift ever so slightly when he wasn't looking.
Though the décor was antiquated, with rich tapestries and oil paintings lining the walls, the entire space was pristine.
A sudden pop broke the silence, and Harry turned to find a diminutive figure standing before him. The house elf wore a neat tunic with the Potter crest embroidered in silver thread over the chest. Though his skin was wrinkled and his ears slightly drooped with age, his sharp green eyes gleamed with intelligence and pride.
"Who—oh! My apologies, Master Potter, sir! We's weren't expecting you so soon," said the elf, bowing low. His voice was gruff but respectful. "We's been waiting for this day, though we thought it would be years yet."
Harry smiled warmly. "Please, just call me Harry. What's your name?"
"I am Jekyll, Harry, sir. Jekyll is head elf for House Potter and your personal servant."
"How many elves are here?"
"There's four at Potter Manor, sir, two at the villa in France, and one at the Highland property."
Harry blinked. "Right, okay... Well, Jekyll, it's good to meet you. Could you call the other elves? I'd like to meet everyone."
Jekyll snapped his fingers, and with three pops, the other elves appeared. Lanyon, a tall and wiry elf with dirt-streaked skin, stood straight, holding a small trowel. Alice, a cheerful and plump elf, carried a ladle and wore a bright kerchief tied over her head. Utterson, the youngest of the group, seemed shy, clutching a feather duster nervously.
Harry greeted each of them, insisting they call him by his first name. Alice, who practically bounced on the balls of her feet, clapped her hands in excitement.
"Harry, sir, it's good to have you home. We's been waiting so long! We hope there'll be a family soon. Little ones to care for again!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.
Harry blushed furiously, running a hand through his hair. "Ah... maybe not just yet."
Jekyll led Harry through the manor, pointing out each room with pride. The grand dining hall, lined with long oak tables, could seat dozens. The ballroom's crystal chandeliers glittered even in the faintest light, and the library, with its floor-to-ceiling shelves, smelled of parchment and old leather. The family lounge was cozy, with plush armchairs arranged around a roaring fireplace.
When they reached his private office, Harry paused, staring at the ornate double doors. The wood was dark, polished to a mirror shine, with intricate carvings of lions and stags.
"Wow," Harry muttered, running his fingers over the smooth surface before pushing the doors open. His eyes widened as he stepped inside. A massive portrait dominated the far wall. Two figures, dressed in fine robes, smiled down at him.
The woman had sharp features softened by a warm expression. Her dark hair, streaked with silver, was tied elegantly at the nape of her neck. The man beside her was broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw and a twinkle of mischief in his hazel eyes.
"You must be Harry," the woman said, her voice melodic. "The last time we saw you, you were just a baby."
Harry froze, his mouth slightly open.
"Close your mouth, dear, or you'll catch flies," she teased gently. "I'm Dorea Potter, your grandmother, and this is Charlus, your grandfather."
Charlus nodded, his expression kind. "Welcome home, son."
Harry took a hesitant step forward. "I—I didn't know portraits like this existed of my family."
"We were painted with a bit of magic," explained Dorea. "Enough to preserve some of our essence."
"Is there one of my parents somewhere?" Harry asked looking around excitedly.
"No, I'm afraid not," Dorea replied sadly. "Now, come closer; let us get a good look at you." Harry stepped forward shyly.
"You have grown into a very handsome young man. A little small, but the power from the ring should sort that out." Harry just stood there with his mouth hanging open. The plump woman with dark greying tresses smiled warmly at him waiting for him to come out of his stupor.
"Shall I leave you here then, Harry sir or will you be needing anything else?"
"No, that's fine, you may go. Thank you for the tour Jekyll." With a small bow Jekyll was gone and Harry was forced to look back up at his grandparents.
"What did you mean about the ring?"
"It is infused with very powerful family magic," said Dorea. "The reason the magic was infused was to make sure that every head of House Potter is able to reach their full magical and physical potential. It is was done by your great-great-great grandfather after he was severely weakened by dragon pox as a boy."
"It looks like I have my great-great-great grandfather to thank for a lot," said Harry with a smirk. Dorea laughed gently at this.
"Yes, I suppose you do. The changes will be subtle, but you will notice your body changing to better support the increase in power you will gain as you learn to control the family magic. It will be important that you train regularly so your muscles can handle the strain and I strongly suggest you learn occlumency, if you don't know it already."
"Alright," said Harry taking a seat in an armchair by the window. "So, who named the house elves? Would that be courtesy of my great-great-great grandfather as well?" Charlus laughed heartily at that.
"Yes, it would be. He apparently had a very unusual sense of humour. He named his first house elf, Jekyll, after a muggle movie he had seen with a friend and it sort of became a tradition." Harry spent the rest of the day with his grandparents, listening as they recounted stories about his father and mother, their eyes lighting up with every memory. For the first time, Harry felt truly connected to his family, and a sense of peace settled over him.
O – o – o – o
When Amelia Bones received the letter from Harry Potter, her first instinct was disbelief. It had to be a joke—some poor attempt at humour either aimed at her or, more likely, at Harry.
"No one would dare try to prank me," she thought grimly. "At least, no one sane. It must be some elaborate scheme targeting Harry."
Still, she couldn't dismiss the matter outright. Her unease only deepened after contacting Gringotts to confirm the letter's authenticity. The goblins were, as always, brutally efficient. Their reply was simple and devastating: the contract was real, unbreakable, and on an unyielding deadline.
The weight of the revelation pressed on her as she sat back in her chair, staring at the letter on her desk.
She had never even officially met Harry Potter. Yet, here she was, poised to deliver the kind of news that could upend his life—and hers.
"What fifteen-year-old boy would want to be married to someone like me?" she wondered bitterly. "I'm practically old enough to be his mother. And to make matters worse, I'm the legal guardian of his classmate."
Amelia read Harry's letter one more time, hoping she had missed something, some detail that might provide a way out. But no. The situation was as dire as it seemed. Resigned, she penned a response, asking him to come to Bones Manor the following day.
Her hand trembled slightly as she signed her name, and for the first time in years, Amelia felt genuinely unmoored.
Once the owl was on its way, she reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey. She poured herself a generous glass and took a long, burning sip.
The first glass dulled the edges of her panic. The second brought a flicker of clarity. By the third, she was almost optimistic.
"Maybe this isn't as catastrophic as it seems," she mused as the alcohol began to cloud her judgment. "Emmeline Vance is always going on about the perks of dating younger wizards. They're adaptable, eager to please…you can shape them into exactly what you want."
She groaned, resting her head in her hands. "Merlin's beard, I'm actually sitting here contemplating the merits of…no. No, I'm not going there." But the thoughts lingered, unwelcome and insistent. "Still, it's going to happen eventually, isn't it? Maybe I should try to see the brighter side of this. What else can I do?"
She let out a humourless laugh and poured another glass. "If someone had told me last week that I'd be sitting here trying to rationalise my impending marriage to Harry bloody Potter, I'd have sent them straight to St. Mungo's."
Downing the last of her drink, Amelia stood from her desk, determined to call it a night. But halfway across the room, she paused, turned back, and grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey. If she was going to spend the evening with her thoughts, she would need the fortification.
Stumbling up the stairs, Amelia's mind drifted back to Harry's letter. She had expected panic or outrage in his tone—something befitting the gravity of the situation. Instead, the boy had seemed calm. Resigned, even.
"Maybe he's not as bothered by all of this as I thought," she murmured to herself. She collapsed onto her bed with a groan, bottle still in hand. "Or maybe he's just in shock. Either way, tomorrow is going to change everything."
With that, she took one final swig, set the bottle on her bedside table, and closed her eyes.
The following morning, Amelia awoke with a pounding headache but a renewed sense of purpose. Determined to prepare for her meeting with Harry, she decided to glean what information she could from her niece, Susan, without arousing suspicion.
"Tell me about Harry Potter," she said over breakfast, keeping her tone light.
Susan raised an eyebrow. "Harry? Why do you want to know about him?"
"Oh, no reason," Amelia said quickly. "I just find it interesting that you're friends with him. He must be quite the character."
Susan shrugged. "I suppose. He's nice—kind of quiet, but brave. He's amazing at Defense Against the Dark Arts. He can even cast a Patronus."
"A Patronus?" Amelia asked, genuinely impressed.
"Yeah," Susan said. "It's a stag. It's beautiful, really."
Amelia sipped her tea, her mind racing. A fifteen-year-old capable of casting a full corporeal Patronus was no small feat. It spoke to a level of strength and resilience that few possessed.
"And he can talk to snakes," Susan added, wrinkling her nose slightly.
"Parseltongue?" Amelia frowned. That was…less encouraging.
Susan nodded. "But he doesn't like to talk about it. I think it embarrasses him."
Amelia filed the information away, her initial apprehension softening slightly. Despite the daunting circumstances, she found herself looking forward to meeting Harry. There was clearly more to the boy than met the eye.
O - o - o - o
Harry bolted upright at precisely 6 a.m., clutching his head as an earsplitting sound filled his mind. His first thought was that someone nearby was screaming, but the groggy realisation quickly dawned—no,inside his head.
"Up, pup, up! Time to get up!" came Sirius's unmistakably exuberant voice.
"Merlin, why?" Harry groaned, clapping his hands over his ears, as if that might muffle the noise.
"Because today is the first day of the rest of your life!" Sirius announced with infectious enthusiasm.
"How poetic for a mangy mutt," Harry muttered, throwing himself back onto the pillows with a dramatic scowl.
"Oh, don't be like that, pup. I wake you up like this because I care. And because you need to train. If you're going to stand a chance against Voldemort, you can't keep sitting on your arse waiting for inspiration to strike. You have to prepare." Sirius's voice was unrelenting, filled with determination and, annoyingly, logic.
Harry groaned but swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Fine. But if you ever wake me up like that again, I swear I'll drag you back from the afterlife just to throttle you."
Sirius laughed heartily. "That's the spirit! Now, on your feet, let's get moving. Start with a run around the grounds. Five miles, pup! Then we'll hit the weights."
Harry shuffled to his wardrobe, grumbling, "Why did I even put that blasted ring on..."
As Harry jogged through the cool morning air, he found himself unexpectedly energized. Potter Manor's grounds were sprawling and lush, with the early sun casting long shadows over the dew-drenched grass. The glint of a small lake in the distance sparkled invitingly, while flowerbeds lined the cobblestone paths with vibrant bursts of color.
By the time Harry completed his five-mile run and an hour of weight training in the manor's impressively equipped gym, he was drenched in sweat but invigorated. Sirius's instructions echoed in his mind, driving him forward. For the first time in months, Harry felt a flicker of real purpose.
After a quick shower, he headed to the kitchen.
"Is Master Harry ready for the Charlus training breakfast?" Alice, the cheerful house-elf, chirped as he sat down.
"That would be great, Alice. Thanks," Harry said with a small smile. Moments later, a full English Breakfast, a steaming cup of coffee, and a glass of pumpkin juice appeared before him. Harry grimaced at the coffee but drank it anyway.
After breakfast, Harry settled in the library, tucked into a cozy corner surrounded by towering shelves of ancient tomes. He continued his reading on Battle Magic, the wisdom of his grandfather Charlus guiding him in strategies for duelling and magical warfare. The hours passed quickly, and before long, Jekyll popped in to remind him it was time for his meeting with Amelia Bones.
Harry tidied himself up, attempting to tame his perpetually unruly hair, then strode toward the floo. With a pinch of powder in hand, he called out, "Bones Manor, Loyalty," and was enveloped in green flames.
The sensation of tumbling out of the floo was as undignified as ever. Harry landed at the feet of Madam Bones, who stood poised and elegant in the manor's grand receiving room.
"That was quite the entrance, Lord Potter-Black," Amelia said with a smirk, extending a hand to help him up. Harry looked up at her and his heart skipped a beat. She's gorgeous.
Harry flushed but accepted her hand. "Thank you. I swear, magical travel seems to have it out for me."
Amelia chuckled softly, her navy-blue eyes glinting with amusement. Dressed in a simple muggle summer dress that flowed gently around her petite frame, she seemed more approachable than Harry remembered. Her red hair was loose, cascading down her shoulders, and the usual sternness of her expression had been replaced by something warmer. Harry found himself momentarily distracted.
"I can teach you the trick to stepping out of a floo gracefully," she offered. "The lord of two noble houses should probably avoid such dramatic entrances."
"That would be great, thank you... Amelia," Harry said, stumbling over the familiarity but smiling nonetheless.
"Good. Now, let's talk."
Amelia led Harry into a bright sitting room where Susan Bones was sitting by the window.
"Harry! What are you doing here?" Susan asked, her surprise evident as she stood to greet him.
"Hello, Susan," Harry replied awkwardly. His gaze flicked to Amelia, who offered a reassuring nod.
"I haven't told her anything yet," Amelia explained softly. "I thought it best we speak first."
Susan smiled politely, kissed her aunt on the cheek, and gave Harry a quick hug before excusing herself. Once the door shut, Amelia motioned for Harry to sit.
"Tea?" she offered.
"No, thank you," Harry said, shifting nervously in his chair.
Amelia Bones sat across from Harry, her face lined with worry, the weight of the conversation clear in her posture. Her usually steady voice was laced with apology.
"I'll get straight to the point, Harry. I've read the marriage contract several times, searching for any possible loophole. Unfortunately, there's no way to break it—short of us both losing our magic. Within one year, House Potter and House Bones must merge through marriage."
Harry blinked, the words settling on him like a heavy weight.
"One year?" he repeated, his voice rising an octave in disbelief. "I thought I had more time—like maybe until I was thirty or something."
Amelia frowned, brushing past his shock. "Yes, one year. The contract is bound by an intricate temporal magic I've rarely encountered. I'll consult the goblins to gain more clarity, but…" She hesitated, watching as Harry stared blankly ahead, clearly overwhelmed.
"I truly am sorry, Harry," she continued softly. "If there were any way to free you from this, I'd do it, but I promise to do my best to…."
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open. Susan Bones stormed into the room, her face streaked with tears, her emotions raw and unguarded.
"A marriage contract?" she cried, her voice trembling. "How could you not tell me?" She turned to glare at her aunt, fury and heartbreak warring in her expression. "No, no, this cannot be happening!"
Before either Harry or Amelia could respond, Susan turned and fled the room, her sobs echoing down the hallway.
Amelia rose to follow her niece, but Harry gently placed a hand on her arm.
"I'll talk to her," he offered, surprising himself with the gesture. He wasn't usually one for physical reassurance, but something about the situation demanded a personal touch.
Amelia hesitated, her expression conflicted, before nodding. "Thank you," she said softly.
Harry found Susan sitting on a stone bench in the rose garden near the greenhouse. Her shoulders were slumped, and she was dabbing furiously at her eyes with a handkerchief. As he approached, she looked up, her face blotchy from crying.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she began, her voice shaky. "I shouldn't have been listening. Auntie is going to be so furious with me. I just—" She hiccupped, fresh tears threatening to spill. "I heard her mention a marriage contract, and it was too much."
Unsure of what to say, Harry sat down beside her, giving her space to speak. After a moment of silence, she continued, her words spilling out in a rush.
"It's not that I don't like you, Harry. I think you're great. It's just—it's not about you. I'm in love with someone else." Her voice broke on the last word.
Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Neville," she added, nearly whispering.
"Neville?" Harry echoed, stunned.
Susan nodded, wringing her hands. "We've been dating since last summer. I love him, Harry. I haven't told him yet, but I do. And this contract—it's going to ruin everything. I can't do that to him." Her voice cracked, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
Harry reached out hesitantly, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I understand," he said gently, his mind already working.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Amelia standing on the terrace overlooking the garden. Her gaze found his, and for a brief moment, he caught a glimpse of something vulnerable—longing and regret etched in her features. Then she turned away, gripping the railing and staring out into the distance.
"Talk to her," came Sirius's voice in Harry's mind, faint and amused. "She's sharper than you give her credit for."
Harry sighed, his focus returning to Susan.
"Susan, look at me," he said, his tone firm but kind.
She turned, her red-rimmed eyes meeting his.
"Neville is like a brother to me," Harry began. "I care about him deeply, and I have no intention of hurting either of you. Let me go back and speak to your aunt. I promise you, I'll find a way to fix this. Trust me."
Susan wiped her cheeks, her expression wavering between hope and doubt. "You mean it?"
"Of course," Harry said, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "But Susan—" He hesitated, then added, "You should tell Neville how you feel. Life's too short to leave things unsaid."
She blinked, startled by his words. "Tell him?"
Harry nodded. "If you love him, he deserves to know. Don't wait."
Susan stared at him for a long moment before nodding slowly. For the first time since the conversation began, a faint smile touched her lips.
"Thank you, Harry," she whispered, standing up. "I should go clean up."
Harry sat there for a few minutes and then eventually found his feet and started walking back towards the manor to find Amelia.
o - o - o - o - o
When he walked out onto the terrace Amelia immediately turned around sensing he was there.
"She's gone to clean herself up," Harry said nervously as he ran his fingers through his hair. Amelia nodded. Harry took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "I won't hurt my friends. I can't be the one that tears Susan and Neville apart. So, if that means I lose my magic then I guess I have to live with that," he said with more confidence then he actually had.
"That's very noble of you Harry and perhaps a little stupid," said Amelia looking amused again. Harry just shrugged.
"What can I say, I'm a Gryffindor." Amelia laughed at that. A real, genuine laugh that caused Harry's breath to hitch as he watched her face light up with amusement.
"While I'm sure that Susan and Neville would appreciate your sacrifice, it is ultimately unnecessary." said Amelia.
"What do mean?" Asked Harry with a hint of excitement. "Maybe she found a way out of this," he thought.
Amelia sighed. "The contract has a unique time-activation clause. It was suspended until the exact conditions were met—namely, you becoming an adult when you accepted the Black lordship."
"But... Susan isn't of age yet," Harry said, confusion overtaking panic.
Amelia leaned forward, her expression softening. "Exactly. Which is why the contract doesn't involve Susan, Harry."
The realisation hit Harry like a thunderclap. His gaze snapped to Amelia, whose sad eyes and tense posture betrayed her feelings.
"It's you," Harry whispered.
Amelia gave a small nod. "It seems I am the one bound to this contract."
"I - I - I think I need to sit down," said Harry. Amelia summoned a chair just as he started stumbling. He sat heavily in the chair Amelia had summoned, his mind racing faster than his heart. The revelation hit him like a rogue Bludger: It wasn't Susan he was bound to marry—it was Amelia. His second realisation hit him just as hard. I'm surprisingly okay with that.