Part Five: Ascendancy by Ladyholder

Reading Time:
17 Minutes

Art By Polaris

Harry slid into the focus chair in front of the fireplace and watched as Hermione and Draco settled into place on either side of him. “Are we going to do this every time?”

“Do what?” Hermione asked. She had a journal and pen in hand and was tapping one finger against the spine.

“Put me in the center,” Harry said. At her shrug, he sighed before turning back to Draco. “Are we?”

“Yes,” Draco said bluntly. “You can hate it all you want, but you are the king, and that means that we need to make sure you’re treated with respect. And one way to do that is on a visual level, making you the center of attention. All eyes will be on you, wherever you go, so you’re going to need to get used to that now.”

“I hate this already,” Harry muttered. He glanced down at his clothes and grimaced. “I’m going to need a new wardrobe, aren’t I?”

“We all will,” Draco confirmed. “Hermione will need one to confirm that she’s your queen, and mine will reflect my consort status. This is not a slight, it’s just the term used.”

“Right,” Harry said. He ruffled his fingers together as he tried to get comfortable in his chair. “Do you think there’s a manual for how to do this bloody job I’ve taken on?”

“Kid, there wasn’t in my day, and I was the last king Magical Britain had. I’m going to say that I’m about as close to one as you’re going to get,” Arthur said cheerfully.

“Bugger,” Harry muttered. He sat up straight as there was a brisk knock on the door to the room before it was pushed open by a dverger guard escorting Narcissa Malfoy. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome,” the dverger said before turning to his charge. “You have arrived.”

“Thank you, Master Dverger,” Narcissa said. She entered the room with an elegant swish of her skirts, and Harry watched as she took in how they were seated. There was one chair in front of them, and she took it with a level of confidence that looked natural before flashing a small smile at her son. “It’s lovely to see you, Draco, but shouldn’t you be at Hogwarts?”

“No,” Draco said shortly. “It’s not safe for me to be there, and you know it.”

“Perhaps,” Narcissa allowed. “But it’s safer than being with your companions.”

“It’s really not,” Draco said. He reached for the left sleeve of his shirt and rolled it up before showing his mother his unmarred arm. “Harry removed the Mark. He has no way to track me.”

The lack of the Mark was apparently enough to shatter Narcissa’s composure, because she stared at the unmarred skin of Draco’s arm in shock. “How?”

“I’m a Parselmouth,” Harry reminded her. It wasn’t like that fact hadn’t been spread far and wide. “And it really wasn’t that hard. It just needed to be removed with Parseltongue, and I was able to do so.”

Narcissa stared at Draco’s bare arm before turning back to Harry. “Why did you do it?”

“One, because it’s right. Draco’s not a Death Eater, and he didn’t take the Mark willingly. I wouldn’t leave anyone in that position if I could help it. And two: I can help it, so I did. Finally, three: removing the Mark will piss Voldemort off, so that’s a bonus that can’t be measured,” Harry said bluntly. He stared at his soon-to-be mother-in-law and raised an eyebrow at her. “So that’s why.”

“Did you ask for this, Dragon?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” Draco said. He stared at his mother with a level look before slanting a glance at Harry. “Harry and Hermione are my soulmates, and there’s no way I could become an equal partner to them with the Mark on my magic. Removing the Mark put us on equal footing.”

“And have you taken up the Black Lordship?” she asked after several seconds of quiet.

“No, I have not,” Draco said. “You know Sirius was Arcturus’s heir, and Harry was his heir. He was adopted in blood and magic. So…”

Narcissa nodded once before she stood up and curtsied deeply. “Lord Black. Thank you for seeing me.”

Harry held back a sigh and nodded once. “Please don’t do that, Lady Malfoy. I don’t need that kind of a gesture. I called you here for a reason that I want to discuss with you.”

She nodded once before rising. “Thank you, Lord Black. What can I do?”

“We want you to go into hiding. We’re working with the dverger to set up a safe place for you, so you won’t be found by Voldemort,” Harry explained. He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to say something. “I know that Lucius is a member of his inner circle and your spouse, but we don’t want you in the line of fire for either of them.”

Narcissa sat back in her chair and stared at him for several seconds before turning her attention to her son. “Do you support this, Dragon?”

“Father is going to get himself, and you killed with his actions if we don’t do something,” Draco said with a frown. “I have no loyalty towards him or the Dark Lord, and I’m not going to hide it. I can’t. But I will not leave you vulnerable.”

“I am a liability for you. If I’m anywhere I can be found, I can be used against you,” Narcissa surmised. She grimaced slightly as she tapped one finger against the arm of her chair before turning to look at Hermione. “Will you be going into hiding as well?”

Hermione looked up from the journal she was writing in and shook her head. “No. Not if they know what’s good for them.”

“I know better than to tell you that you can’t do something,” Harry muttered. “That’s a lesson I learned years ago.”

“Yup. Same,” Draco said before turning back to his mother. “It’s not that we think you’re unable to defend yourself, Mother. It’s just that…”

“Voldemort has already used you once against Draco; we don’t want him to try to do it again. With Lucius still alive, he has both magical and legal authority over you that I can’t get around easily. Having you hide, while shady on the surface, keeps you safe from at least two forces,” Harry said. “My goal is to kill Voldemort, and…”

“You’re going to kill Lucius,” Narcissa cut in with a huff. At his nod, she pressed her lips together and nodded once. “As it stands now, he has a great deal of authority over me due to our marriage contract and magical law. If I head back now, I will be questioned to find out why the Bank called me specifically. Being placed in hiding directly from here would be best. Because I doubt you can kill him right away.”

“No, we can’t. But your disappearance will sow confusion in your husband and the remaining members of your family that you are in contact with,” Hermione said. “Where would you want to live?”

“Wherever I live, I doubt I will be going out. The wards will need to be strong enough to keep a house elf out, because they can find their people, no matter where they go,” Narcissa said. “I can’t in conscious release the bonds I have to them, but I don’t want to be where they find me, either.”

“I’m going to turn that over to the dverger, since I’m sure they’re aware of the issues needed in the cases of extreme warding,” Harry decided.

“Good idea, kid,” Arthur said. Harry had the impression that the former king was letting them do as much as they could on their own. As much as he appreciated the wisdom that Arthur had to offer, he was sure that he needed to stand on his own. “Ask them about giving her a divorce.”

“Good morning, sir,” Narcissa said. She gave the sword on his back a deep nod before turning her attention back to him. “I can’t get a divorce unless the Wizengamot authorizes it.”

“That might have been true a week ago, but it’s not true now,” Arthur said. He sounded smug, and Harry rolled his eyes at the spirit.

“I took up all the titles I’m heir to,” Harry said. He held up his wand hand, and the ring on it glittered in the light. “Potter, Black, Gryffindor, and Pendragon. I believe that means I can grant you that divorce.”

“Sire,” Narcissa breathed. She took a deep breath and stared into space over his shoulder as she paled and flushed in alternating waves.

“Please relax, Lady Malfoy. I’m not going to do anything against you,” Harry said, trying to reassure her. He leaned forward and clasped her hand in his and gently squeezed it. “I want you to be free. And if that means that I need to grant you a divorce, I’ll do it.”

“Call me Cissa, sire,” Narcissa said. “Have you taken up your crown?”

“No, not officially, Narcissa,” Arthur said. He made a noise like the clearing of a throat and pressed on. “His official investiture will happen when the war is over, and he’s defeated Voldemort.”

“So, you can’t officially grant my divorce,” Narcissa concluded.

Harry nodded once. “I’m sure you’re correct. But if Lucius survives this war, that will change.”

“Thank you.”

They all fell silent, and Harry had to suppress a start when there was a knock on the door to their room. Harry reached out with this magic and nudged the door to open it. Ragnok leaned in and raised an eyebrow at them. “Has a decision been reached?”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed. “Lady Malfoy has agreed to the warded location to retreat to. Please make sure that house elves can’t find her. The Malfoy elves are resourceful, and if they are directed to find her, I’m sure that they can do so.”

“Right. That’ll take some careful warding. But we can do it,” Ragnok said slowly. “While we get that started, I would like the three of you to visit our healers to make sure that you’re in good health. From everything I know, you’ve dealt with several dangerous events over the last year, and I don’t know how much medical care you’ve had access to.”

“We haven’t had enough,” Hermione admitted. “We did the best we could with what we had, and both of us are at least a stone underweight.”

Ragnok nodded once. “The weight we can get back on you with plenty of hearty meals. Anything else?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. He shrugged when Hermione glared at him. “I really don’t know, Hermione. Madame Pomphrey does all she can every year to make sure I’m healthy, but we’ve been running around for months now, and I ran out of the potions she supplied about two months ago.”

“What potions?” Draco asked. He seemed intent, and Harry raised an eyebrow at him in question. “You looked like a ragbag most days when you weren’t in your school uniform, but you didn’t look underweight after the first month back in school. I noticed that every year.”

“My Muggle family doesn’t like to feed me, so I rarely get everything I need. I had workarounds that I started after the first year of school, but we’ve been running for months,” Harry said with a shrug. “Madame Pomphrey made sure I took a nutrient potion every night while I was in school.”

“Merlin, that’s not great,” Draco breathed. He turned to look at Ragnok and shared a speaking glance with the dverger. “Sir, Harry’s power level is prodigious. His nutritional needs must be as well.”

“Please explain,” Hermione demanded. She had closed the journal she’d been writing in and was holding it in a white-knuckled grip.

“I’m going to guess, but based on what I remember of Harry’s ability to cast in class, he’s going to be an archmagus. That’s as high on the scale as you can get in magical rankings. To be able to use your magic to its fullest potential, you need to be healthy. If you’re weakened by starvation, it can impact your magic.”

“I hate Dumbledore,” Hermione hissed. “He knew. He was the headmaster for Hogwarts, and he had to know this. And he sent you back every damn year.”

“It’s likely that he did know, lass,” Arthur growled. His voice sounded like a small earthquake, and Harry could feel the sword vibrating in its sheath. “Ragnok, please make sure they all see Master Bonesetter. Harry and Hermione have been half-starved for months, and Draco has been hit with numerous torture curses since the end of last June. I don’t know what Narcissa is hiding, but I’m sure it’s going to make me angry enough to spit nails.”

“Do we need to have our curse-breakers look at you?” Ragnok asked with a pointed glance at the sword. “After all, you’ve been around a bunch of unscrupulous arseholes as well.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Harry agreed. When the sword vibrated on his shoulder with an extra beat of irritation, he snorted. “You can’t tell me that they wouldn’t take the opportunity to fuck with you, old man.”

“Fair. Okay, I guess we all get to be poked and prodded,” Arthur said with a verbal pout.

“Good call,” Ragnok agreed.

“I need to do something,” Harry muttered as he paced around the room he’d been escorted to after his in-depth examination by Master Bonesetter. He was used to being busier, and the amount of waiting he was doing since they’d gotten to the Bank was driving him mad.

“Would you like to observe the construction of the rune circle we’re going to use when we take the Horcrux out of your head?” Ragnok asked as he walked into the room.

“Yes, please,” Harry said gratefully. He hesitated briefly as he walked towards Ragnok. “Will Hermione and Draco be allowed to watch as well?”

“Mr. Malfoy is with his mother, and they are discussing her security needs with the team who are setting up her temporary home. Ms. Granger found out that we have our own law library and requested access,” Ragnok reported. “I expect she’ll be in there for a while, given the rumors about her.”

“If the rumors are that she really likes knowing everything, they’re right,” Harry said ruefully. He fell into step beside the dverger and glanced down at him. “Thank you for indulging them. I know you don’t have to do that.”

“Lad, you’re the Magical King of Britain, and I do respect that. Even if you haven’t been officially acknowledged by the Wizengamot, you have been here. You have a level of authority in this Bank that you won’t have in the rest of the world for a while,” Ragnok explained as he guided him along the hall. “Showing you that level of courtesy is the right thing to do.”

Harry suppressed his start of surprise at that news. “Thank you, sir. I did what research I could regarding your people while I was still actively attending Hogwarts, and I know that you are the absolute ruler of your own people, too. I don’t want to step on any toes if I can help it.”

“You’re doing fine, lad. You’re leagues ahead of most of the wizards and witches we deal with daily,” Ragnok reassured as they entered a familiar hallway. “I’ll let you know if you start stepping on my toes.”

“Thank you. I really don’t want to offend your people, sir. I’ve got enough danger in my life with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Getting into any kind of a mess with the Horde is just dumb,” Harry said with a sigh of relief.

Ragnok hummed softly as they entered the room where Harry had removed Draco’s Mark. “As bad a teacher as Binns was and is, he at least has managed to get that point across to his students.”

“A lot of students nap during that class,” Harry said with a smirk.

“I’m sure that didn’t happen with Ms. Granger,” Ragnok said with a similar smirk.

Harry let his grin get wider as he thought of how insistent Hermione was on using her time in class on actual classwork. “No, not often at least. I did a lot of reading in that class, but you’re right. Binns was very firm on how dumb it was to get into a fight with your people.”

“Why are you talking about a ghost?” Razel called from his place in the center of the room. He was lying on his belly with a metal quill gripped firmly in one hand.

“Because Harry learned not to piss the Horde off from him, even if he didn’t learn anything else,” Ragnok said cheerfully. “How goes the building?”

“I had to get with the curse-breakers to confirm exactly how to contain a Horcrux,” Razel murmured as he carefully inscribed the next rune in the sequence. “Most of the ones they encounter are ancient, but the damn things are still potent and dangerous. But the curse-breakers have codified the rune sequences needed to contain them, along with directions on how to do it. Which I am following faithfully. I’ll have the head of the curse-breaking team inspect the circles after I’m finished.”

“Sounds good,” Ragnok said. He started to wander around the space, peering at the spaces that were waiting to be filled with runes.

Harry moved to the spot where Hermione had stood the night before and sat down. He had no urge to question Razel on what he was doing as Ragnok did. He just wanted to observe everything because the whole process was fascinating.

He recognized some of the runes being used, since they had shown up in his homework over the years, but he’d never taken a class on them. Something was telling him that it had been a mistake and he needed to get caught up, soonest.

“Arthur, did you ever learn about runes?” Harry murmured as Ragnok and Razel started discussing a particular runic sequence.

“No. Remember, I didn’t have an actual magical education in life. My training was haphazard at best, and I used brute force for almost everything. Anything requiring subtlety was handled by Merlin. She was not amused when I tried to do something that she had to fix later.”

“I know that situation far too well,” Harry said with a huff. Hermione was the queen of the unamused look when he fucked something up.

“Every man who has a spouse knows that situation. Trust me, kid,” Arthur said sagely.

“I’m going to get it times two, you know. Draco was right behind Hermione in the class rankings, so I’m going to have two super smart spouses,” Harry shared. He was looking forward to that part of everything. Because seeing what the two of them could get up to when the world wasn’t ending sounded like a worthy goal to work towards.

“Smart spouses are better than a pretty, dumb one,” Ragnok said as he sat down next to him. “They’re harder to fool, can stand in for you if needed, and are great sounding boards. The pretty and dumb ones are more decorative than anything and ultimately useless.”

“Right. I’m going to need all the help I can get to drag this country into the correct century. Because it’s bloody dumb to use quills to write with, when there are better things out there. I don’t care if it’s a tradition or not. It’s dumb. And that’s just one thing that’s bugged me since I entered this world,” Harry muttered. He ignored the way Arthur and Ragnok laughed together at his frustration. He had a list. And he knew Hermione had one too.

“Any questions?” Ragnok asked after several minutes of silence.

Harry glanced away from where Razel was testing a sequence and looked at Ragnok. “I have so many. So. Many. But most of them are going to have to wait until I know what the hell I’m asking about. Because this is fascinating.”

“Technically, it’s a form of curse-breaking,” Razel called. “I’m just doing it in ritual, instead of on the fly.”

“Did your father remind you that I’m a burgeoning archmagus?” Harry asked.

“Yup. I took that into consideration when I planned this out with the curse-breakers. We’re going to capture any bleed off from this, purify the magic, and feed it into the wards of the Bank,” Razel said, pointing to various runic sequences as he listed off what he planned to do. “We’ve also got a whole series of sequences in place to keep the Horcrux under control once it’s removed from your scar.”

“Thank you,” Harry said gratefully. “When do you think you’ll be ready to do this?”

Razel considered the room and the gently glowing runes scribed on the floor. “It’s going to be several days before this is completed, checked, and then charged. Only then will we be able to remove the Horcrux.”

“Days, huh? Right.” Harry propped his chin on his fist and turned his attention to Ragnok. “Have you started looking in the various Black vaults?”

“Yes,” Ragnok hissed. “The whole Black Family are a bunch of insane hoarders. They never get rid of anything.”

“That sounds ominous,” Harry said warily. “But I’m going to be brave and ask. What brought that on?”

“You have twelve vaults directly under the control of the Lord Black, Harry,” Ragnok said, waving his hands. “One of them has the family fortune, one has the family library, and the other ten are filled with stuff. It’s going to take days to go through everything and separate the Dark artifacts that need to be dealt with from the stuff that’s just junk or is harmless.”

“I am so glad you’re doing that,” Harry muttered. “I’d have screaming fits if I had to clean up ten vaults’ worth of junk. What about Bellatrix’s dowry vault?”

“One insanely Dark infested Cup is in custody,” Ragnok confirmed. “Where are the others that you have?”

“Hermione has them in the carpetbag she shrunk,” Harry said with a grin. “We’ll turn them over when she comes out of the library.”

“Good,” Ragnok grunted before turning back to watch his son. “Good.”