Chapter Text
“My lord, there’s been a slight hiccup.”
“What do you mean, a hiccup?” Riddle said in his most dangerous tone, the one that regularly sent fully-grown men cowering to the floor.
Rookwood flinched, looking down at the binder he held and flipping through notes. “The algorithm functioned as intended, pairing up witches and wizards for optimum offspring in terms of magical power and health, as well as considering personal compatibility." He glanced up again. "But it appears some of your intended matches… were overridden by the algorithm. No one caught the error. The public has already seen the results, so it’s not possible to change them now.”
“Who?” Riddle demanded. “Tell me Rigel Black’s pairing was unscathed by this mess.”
Rookwood nodded slowly. “Black’s went ahead as planned. But Theodore Nott was paired with Jacqueline Moon’s daughter, not the Potter Heiress.”
“Who’s with the Potter girl then?”
In the distance, they heard an explosion and the sound of a woman shrieking in anger.
"My godson," said Rookwood.
Riddle put his hand up to halt the other man's explanation. “Go. Tell Bella I will speak with her tomorrow.”
Riddle waited until the door had swung closed before he stood up from his chair to pace, muttering curses to himself in Parseltongue. For once, Rigel Black hadn’t been the one to wreck his plans. His damnable “cousin” had been.
The setup was simple. Theodore Nott had been easy to recruit. If that was less due to Party loyalty, and more due to the secrets Riddle dangled over the young boy’s head… well, blackmail was a tried-and-true method. Nott had already agreed to every step of Riddle’s plan involving Harriet Potter. Now that plan was shattered to smithereens. The algorithm had overridden the match.
Caelum Lestrange was, unquestionably, the most infuriating of the Dark Heirs. Caelum’s mother was easy by comparison. Bellatrix was in love with Tom Riddle; if he lifted a finger, she would have jumped in his bed in an instant. But that misplaced, frenetic eagerness to please hadn’t transferred to her son. Caelum had always been a difficult child. As a young man, he was more obnoxious than he had any right to be.
Riddle almost wished Potter had been matched to the young Malfoy instead. While that would have left her closer to Rigel than was ideal, Malfoy had loyalty to the Party and a sense of decorum that his older cousin lacked.
Riddle ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. What else did he know about Caelum Lestrange? Lestrange's attendance at Durmstrang made his personal connections to British Dark Pureblood Society more tenuous than the typical Hogwarts alum. The connections he did have were made through the Potions Guild or through his parents, who came from two of the oldest pureblood lines in Britain. He was apprenticed to Master Whitaker, a peripheral member of the SOW Party. Overall, Lestrange was just the kind of arrogant, inbred Heir that the algorithm was designed to force into marriage for their own good. Riddle sneered to himself.
The burning question, then: why would the algorithm pair Lestrange with Potter?
The young Lestrange was powerful. Bellatrix had reported Caelum's register as light blue: a solid Mage level. In contrast, accounts out of America put Potter at a light green. Only average. Surely, there were other half-blood matches for the Lestrange Heir that would produce more powerful offspring. No matter what crazy stunts Potter had been pulling in the potions community, she wasn’t anything special magically. Or was she? Her feat healing Tiberius Ogden at the New Year’s Gala hosted by the Parkinsons had left him wondering.
Riddle would never admit it, but Potions had never been his strongest subject. He was textbook-perfect, but he’d never had the flair for invention. That’s why he had Severus. And Severus thought the girl had potential enough to offer an apprenticeship to her, despite her apparent power levels.
Even if it wasn’t about power, it could be about personality. Still, the match didn't make sense on a compatibility level either. Lestrange and Potter shared a fanaticism for Potions, but a recipe for a lasting marriage that was not. His algorithm, his beautifully designed algorithm, would’ve known that. So how could this catastrophe have happened?
Regardless... it needn't be a catastrophe, Riddle reasoned. He wanted Potter far away from Rigel. Lestrange could help accomplish that, if not in the way that Riddle had imagined Nott doing so. Rigel and the Lestrange Heir hated each other fiercely, and had even made public scenes at multiple galas. With Potter as Lestrange’s bonded wife, Rigel might at last release his sentimental attachment to the girl and to the Light.
Riddle reached for the parchment and ink on his desk to write to Narcissa Malfoy. A social event, that’s what this needed. An opportunity to observe the matches for himself, speak to those Heirs who required a firm hand, guide a few onto the correct path, and proceed from there.
-O-
[Hphphphphp]
-O-
“We’re moving to America. Pack your things.”
“We don’t need to flee the country, Dad,” sighed Harriet Potter. “You have your job, Mum will have hers once things sort out with Novus Industries. And we wouldn’t want to leave Sirius and Archie, or Remus, would we? I had hoped that the law wouldn’t pass, much less with a provision like this, but there are worse things.” Like being sent to Azkaban for blood identity theft.
Her cousin Archie tilted his head in thought. “It makes sense, the match. But the algorithm made an oversight. When are you two going to create beautiful pureblooded-by-definition babies together, if neither of you can be dragged away from a cauldron? Logistically, it doesn’t work.”
James made a strangled sound.
Harry rolled her eyes. “Archie, stop tormenting Dad. There will be no babies.”
“That’s the whole point of the marriage law,” Archie said. “So yeah, there will be. Unless we move to America.”
Harry snatched the newspaper from the table and shook it in Archie's direction. “Stop smirking. At least Lestrange and I are… friends. Daphne hates your guts.”
Archie, who had never met Daphne Greengrass (now Daphne Yaxley, since she’d taken her mother’s maiden name), was clearly underestimating her burning hatred. “At least I’m not in imminent danger of being murdered by Dirk Cresswell. You think Bellatrix Lestrange will take this lying down?”
“She loves Riddle,” Harry said. "She wouldn't go against him, surely?"
“Archie’s right," Sirius interjected. "You need to write to the Lestranges and head this off before my cousin takes it into her own evil hands.”
Lily clattered down the stairs with Addy in her arms. “I’ll write the letter,” she called. “I’m sure we can work this out. There may be some flexibility with the matches, especially if your father can pull some strings with the Ministry.”
Sirius leaned forward, locking eyes with Harry across the table. “I heard Riddle was adamant you should’ve been matched with the Nott boy.”
“Theo?” Harry said. “Why?”
“No idea. They didn’t say. Ask Archie, he knows the kid.” Sirius spread his hands
Archie shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe Theo is in deeper with the SOW Party than I thought.” Than you told me, he meant.
Harry frowned. Riddle wanted Harry out of Rigel’s way and under control; he’d pick a match whose loyalty was assured. Had Theo fallen under Riddle’s influence, more so than the other Dark Pureblood Heirs their age? She hadn’t thought Riddle bothered much with young people; his interest in Rigel had seemed a notable exception.
She felt oddly betrayed by the idea that her friend would conspire with Riddle to control her. It shouldn’t have hurt so much. Theo barely knew Harry, who he’d met a few times. As Rigel, she’d known since the beginning that her pureblood friends had loyalty to their families and to the SOW Party over any loyalty to their friendship. To her. And Theo had never exactly been pro-equality when it came to blood status, no matter how cordial he’d been to her when they’d met during the SOW Party fundraiser in Diagon.
“Maybe,” she agreed, struggling to keep her voice steady. “It doesn’t matter. We won’t be marrying until we’re seventeen. That’s two years to get the law changed. Archie, are you with me?” She raised her eyebrows at him, silently signaling that she had more up her sleeve than a few petitions.
“I’m always with you, Harry,” Archie said.
The Malfoys owed Rigel a life debt. Two Wizengamot elders owed them to her, too. And she had a number of ways she planned to make Riddle regret ever double-crossing her.
-O-
-o-
-O-
Harry had never figured Caelum Lestrange for one to sleep in, but he was still in bed at the late hour of ten in the morning. She'd never seen him anything less than polished before. He was oddly adorable this way, curled up like a Knarl, in black silk pajamas embroidered with the Lestrange crest.
“What the—” Caelum fumbled for his wand on his bedside table and pointed it at her.
“Calm down, it’s just me,” Harry said, rolling her eyes.
“Potter.” Caelum bit out her name like a curse, but lowered his wand. “Is that supposed to be reassuring? Why are you tormenting me with your uninvited presence?"
"I thought we needed to talk in private.”
His face went red. “This is my bedroom. It isn’t proper. How did you even get in here?”
"I told Mum I had to use the bathroom," Harry explained. "Not sure if she heard me over Dad's shouting.”
“And your parents are in my home because?” He slid out of his bed to stand, eyeing her the whole time. His pajama pants were too short and exposed his pale ankles.
“Didn’t they tell you we were coming? I think your father is attempting to bribe my whole family into leaving Britain so you can get a new match.”
“Why don’t you then?” Caelum hissed. “Take the gold and get out, you fool, before my mother decides to take drastic measures.”
"Oh, sorry,” Harry snapped, hands on hips. “Was there another half-blood you were dying to marry? Archie has Daphne Greengrass. Maybe we could arrange a trade. Or if you don't like blondes, there may be a Prewett cousin available. Too bad Ginny Weasley is a pureblood. I think you’d really hit it off.”
Caelum gritted his teeth. “Don’t be ridiculous. I never asked to be pulled into this stupid engagement or any other. I have my Potions Mastery to worry about.”
“So do I!" Harry said furiously. "But even if we got the Ministry to reconsider this ill-thought-out match, they'd still make us both marry somebody.”
They stared at each other for a moment, considering.
Despite her joke about trading, the powers in charge of the algorithm would never in a million years allow her to marry Archie. Riddle was too set on bending Rigel to his will. She would bet that Riddle would make another attempt to match her with Theo, if he got the chance. But she wouldn’t let Riddle control her — not as Rigel, and not as Harry.
“We wouldn’t have to marry until I’m seventeen anyway,” Harry pointed out. “Two years of engagement. By then the law will likely be repealed.”
Caelum scoffed. “You think Lord Riddle will let that happen?”
"You never know,” she said, raising her chin. If she had anything to do with it, Riddle would soon be seeing the error of his ways.
"I suppose you may be the most tolerable half-blood out there," Caelum said bitterly. "Not that that's saying much."
"And you're the most tolerable pureblooded snob," Harry shot back. "But at least, if the worst came to pass, we wouldn't have to worry about being barged in on during delicate brewing stages. And we could share a lab."
Caelum scowled. "I'm not sharing all my rare ingredients with you. You don't appreciate them the way they deserve to be appreciated."
"Yes, yes, I'll keep my hands off your grindylow webbing, as long as you don't steal my ideas for your Mastery thesis." She was curious if he'd actually do his thesis on Shaped Imbuing. She wanted her invention to change the Potions community and expand possibilities, and Caelum's work could help her do that.
"It's not stealing when you agreed to teach me," Caelum said defensively, falling for the bait.
Harry kept her smirk inside. "Just give me proper credit and we'll call it even."
"Whatever, brat. So… what now? We stroll out of here and tell everyone we can't wait to get married?" His sneer seemed half-hearted. “That’ll go over like dried chimera eyes in Wolfsbane.”
“I guess we could pretend to be dating,” she said thoughtfully. “It would keep our families from fighting the match on our behalf. We don’t want to end up engaged to somebody worse."
“You want to pretend we’ve been courting?” Caelum stared at her. “Have you hit your head? Do you remember who my parents are?”
“How is that worse than the fact that we want to stay engaged?”
“It’s worse,” he said darkly.
“Fine then,” she retorted. “Tell my family the truth, that you actually loathe me but you hate all other half-bloods more, so you’re making the great sacrifice of marrying me. No way that could backfire with my Muggleborn mother and my overprotective father.”
“I never — Why must you make everything so damn difficult?” Caelum bemoaned, rubbing his forehead. There were still lines on his face from where he'd pressed it into his pillow.
“It’s a gift,” Harry said sweetly.
He threw up his hands in defeat. “Have it your way, half-blood. When things go horribly wrong, we can look back on this moment and blame you.”
“I’m waiting with bated breath.” She glanced towards the doorway. “Put on some clothes and meet me back in your parlor in a few minutes.”
Harry left him there, muttering to himself, and navigated her way through the stone corridors under her Invisibility Cloak. She didn’t want any portraits snitching about her trip to Caelum’s bedroom. She took off the Cloak in the nearest powder room and stashed it in her bag.
When she slipped back into the parlor, Bellatrix was no longer there, only Rodolphus, James, and Lily. They’d left Addy with Sirius and Archie for her own safety.
“Oh, there you are, Harry.” Lily sounded relieved. “I worried you’d gotten lost.”
“Not hard to imagine,” Rodolphus said nastily. “For one as provincial as your daughter.” His tone made provincial sound like mudblood.
James opened his mouth to retort. Just as he did, Caelum entered the room.
“Father,” Caelum acknowledged. “Lord Potter, Lady Potter.”
He bowed stiffly and moved to stand beside Harry. Since she’d left his bedroom, he’d thrown on robes and combed his hair. With his face set in a neutral expression instead of an annoyed one, he was even more heart-stoppingly beautiful.
“Lestrange,” James said coolly.
“Where’s Lady Lestrange?” Harry asked.
“She went to petition our Lord for assistance,” Rodolphus said. “Convince him to reconsider this travesty.”
Harry gave Caelum a pointed glance, trying to nudge him towards saying something. He looked back at her with wild eyes, mouthing You do it. She resisted the urge to groan.
“Caelum and I want to stay engaged,” she said abruptly.
Rodolphus coughed.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly." James looked at Lily as if he wanted her to explain that yes, he’d misheard, and here was what Harry meant to say.
Harry shrugged, putting her hands in her pockets. “We’re a good couple already,” she lied, “so we figured, we won’t let the algorithm ruin something that's working. We won’t be married for two years anyway.”
James grimaced. “I appreciate the pranking effort, Harry, but we seriously need to practice your timing.”
“I don’t think this is a prank, dear,” Lily said delicately. “Although it’s certainly the first I’m hearing of this relationship.”
Rodolphus hadn’t said anything aloud, but his face said he also hoped it was a prank.
“Though we would prefer our hands weren’t forced in this matter, we are content with the outcome,” Caelum finally chimed in. He did not sound enthusiastic.
“That’s settled, then,” Harry said, clapping her hands together.
"It is not—" James started.
"The elves told me lunch is served," Caelum announced, cutting off James' response. "You may wish to join, Potters. Father?"
Rodolphus's expression was sour. "I must attend to another matter. Caelum, we'll speak when your mother returns home."
Harry asked Caelum with her eyes if this was a cause for concern. He either didn't receive the message or chose to ignore it, because he turned away to lead her family to the dining room.
She couldn’t help but hear Lily, leaning in to whisper in James’ ear: “Let me handle this, darling.”
Harry had eaten in the Great Hall on her first day becoming Rigel Black, and she’d taken tea with Lord Riddle at the Malfoys’, but she had never had a more uncomfortable meal than the one she shared with Caelum and her parents. By the end of the meal, Harry was sure of two things. One: she and Caelum would need more practice to pass for a convincing couple. Two: Her family would need a lot of time to warm up to her new fiancé.
-O-
-o-
-O-
“Gather round, kids, I have bad news,” Sirius said, beckoning Harry and Archie towards the Grimmauld Place parlor.
Harry and Archie traded fearful looks and followed. Sirius was holding a roll of cream parchment, with swirling calligraphy.
“What is it, Dad?” Archie asked, running a hand through his hair.
Sirius sighed dramatically. “I’m afraid that you two have been summoned… to a gala.”
“A gala?” Harry echoed, relief flooding through her. “When? Why? Whose gala?”
“This weekend. Allegedly to celebrate the new engagements made through the Ministry’s matching. But Narcissa Malfoy is hosting, so it’s probably all Riddle’s doing. You both are expected to attend with your betrotheds. It’s not phrased as a request. Should I write back and tell them to go to hell?”
Archie shrugged. “Harry?”
She frowned. “I’m not sure we’re really able to refuse… it might be more prudent to go, to appear to be cooperating with the Ministry’s law for the time being.”
“Are you sure, Harry?” Sirius asked, frowning too. “We’re on the invitations too — me and your parents — but it’s a political minefield out there.”
“If we’re ‘expected to attend’, we should,” Harry said, thinking hard. “It’ll be a chance to talk to Wizengamot members, too, and feel out people’s positions on the issue. Archie and I will figure out the rest.” They’d have to deal with the resonance in her core if she had to be Harry around Riddle, but she’d been working on a strategy for that with Dom.
She and Archie spent the next few days plotting. They drew up plans, made lists, and wrote letters. Harry wrote to Rigel’s friends and acquaintances to get more information about their matches, and their family’s attitudes towards the law.
On Wednesday, Harry was in Tate’s apothecary, picking through newt eyes, when someone tapped her shoulder. She spun to meet Caelum’s gaze.
“Come on,” he said, tugging her towards the door.
“Come where?” She pulled back and walked over to the register, since she hadn’t paid yet.
“Didn’t you get my owl?”
“No.” She smiled at Tate apologetically. “My school account, please.” To Caelum, she said, “What did the owl say?”
“The owl said, meet me in front of the bank at noon. You’re late.” He crossed his arms.
Harry accepted her wrapped-up package from Tate and waved good-bye on her way out the door, Caelum following her and practically vibrating with irritation.
“I can’t be late if I never got the invitation,” she pointed out.
Caelum rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s go.”
“Where?” she insisted.
“Gringotts, like I said!” He started walking, then stopped when he realized she wasn’t following.
“What do you mean, Gringotts?” Harry balked. “I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are,” Caelum said indignantly. “I’d take my fiancée to choose one of the family betrothal rings. Everyone will expect to see one on your finger. Thus, we are going to Gringotts. Keep up.”
“Fine,” she said, feeling petulant. She reached out to take his hand.
Caelum yanked his hand back like she was covered in slime. “What are you doing, brat?”
Harry fluttered her lashes at him mockingly. “Everyone will expect to see me holding hands with my betrothed. Do you want to sell this or not?”
“You are so aggravating,” he muttered, but he deigned to take her hand.
"I also wouldn't let my fiancé call me brat," she added. "Or Half-blood."
"Next you'll want me to call you by that ridiculous nickname," Caelum grumbled. At her confused look, he elaborated. “Harry. Like a street boy.”
“A street boy?” She laughed. “Harry is a perfectly good nickname for Harriet.”
He shook his head as he towed her along the cobblestone street. “Anything would be better. Hattie. Etta. Something feminine.”
“I like Harry. It’s simple.”
“You’re simple,” he sniped.
“Great comeback. I’m so insulted,” Harry said cheerily.
The grand building of Gringotts loomed before them. She didn’t often go to the bank herself; James handled the Potter family finances and Harry charged her potions purchases to her school account. Krait paid her in cash, and she paid rent for her apartment in cash too. She trailed Caelum up the steps, to the counter, and then to the carts alongside a Gringotts goblin. He wasn’t asked for identification beyond the vault key. She supposed his confidence and his sneer were sufficient proof he was a Lestrange.
The cart took them down at a dizzying pace. The Lestrange vault was much deeper in the bank than the Potter vault. Clutching the edge of the cart, Harry did her best not to let the nausea overcome her. It was less from the motion — not too different from flying, although she wasn't in control — and more from the sickening darkness of the caves pressing in around her. She hadn't been underground this long since… since...
She shoved the memory deep inside her mind, as the goblin opened the vault and stepped back to allow them entrance.
“Don’t touch anything,” Caelum warned. “I’m sure some of the artifacts react to impure blood.”
“I don’t think curses can do that,” Harry said dubiously. If they could, she would’ve needed to be more careful touching things as Rigel.
“Fine, react to those without sufficient Lestrange blood. These days, it’s basically the same thing.”
“Because you’re all so inbred.” Harry nodded her understanding. “But how am I supposed to choose a ring if I can’t touch anything?”
He glared at her. “I will hold them out for you to look at. Whatever one you pick, we’ll remove the curses if necessary. My ancestors didn’t anticipate this ridiculous law when enchanting their heirlooms.”
“How rude of them.”
He found the jewelry case and began pulling out improbably large rings to show her.
“No, no, definitely not,” she said, shaking her head at a series of options and grimacing at one huge diamond. “I need to use my hand, Caelum. Is there something simple? It's going to get covered in gunk when I brew anyway."
He huffed. “I can’t have my fiancée walking around with some pitiful ring. People will either think my family is struggling financially, which is clearly not the case, or they'll think I don't respect you.”
"...Do you?" It had slipped out of her mouth, unbidden. But she didn't take the question back.
There was a long pause. Caelum’s face went red, and he wouldn’t look at her anymore. "Irrelevant."
"It's relevant to our engagement," she disagreed.
“No, what’s relevant is what other people assume. Not some indistinct idea of what’s ‘true’.” He busied himself opening a new drawer of the jewelry case.
His refusal to answer was answer enough. She squashed the unwelcome swell of emotions. It was fine, Harry told herself. She didn’t need his respect. It was silly to think she'd ever have it, for a number of reasons. She only needed him to cooperate with their facade of a relationship and to leave her alone to brew her potions if they did end up getting married. She could trust him to do that much.
“I like that one.” Harry reached out to indicate a ring, but Caelum swatted her hand away.
“Do you want your hand to shrivel off?” he said sternly. “This one is goblin-made, commissioned for my great-great-grandmother Henrietta. An old mine diamond with rose cut rubies and a hand-engraved gold band. You'd better memorize that description for when people ask.”
“Henrietta?” she said slyly. “Did she go by Harry?”
"She most certainly did not.”
“Was she born in July too, or did she just like rubies? Or was she a Gryffindor?” Harry gasped in fake horror.
“July,” he said, as they exited the vault. "No Lestrange has ever been a Gryffindor."
She shook her head in exaggerated disappointment. "There's always next time.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his beautiful face turning contemplative.
“What are you thinking about?” Harry clambered into the cart behind him and the goblin.
Caelum sniffed disdainfully. “How to dismantle the curse on that ring. I may just hire Gringotts to do it. It might not be ready for the gala. But they’ll guarantee your finger won’t wither off, or my money back."
"Good plan. I don't know how talented you are at curse-breaking, but let's not leave things to chance. I need both hands for brewing." That wasn't strictly true — she'd survived part of her first year at Hogwarts with one usable wrist, determinedly chopping and stirring one-handed. But she wouldn't care to repeat the experience.
Caelum glanced over his shoulder at her. "You need them both? Huh. Remind me to get you a new wedding present. Fanged Geraniums are old-fashioned anyway."
Her startled laugh was lost in the whoosh of the cart up the tracks.
-O-
-o-
-O-
Harry wasn't at the same level of prankster as the rest of her family, or Fred and George, but she did have her mischievous side.
"I made our appointment for Twilfitt and Tattings," she said innocently, gesturing down the alley. "Aren't you coming?"
Caelum stared at her hard, like he couldn't quite tell if she was serious. "You’re supposed to be the nice one, Potter. Don’t make me suffer through a robe shopping trip. Just pick something in a flattering color, and ask them for a style like what Lady Malfoy wore to the Garden Party last month."
"You call your aunt Lady Malfoy?"
“It’s respectful,” Caelum said stiffly.
Harry snorted. “Of course, because respectful addresses have been so important to you, historically.”
“We’re not close. I hardly see my mother’s family. Hell, my own cousin calls me ‘Lestrange’.” He rubbed his chin.
That was sad, in Harry’s opinion. Even though she felt that her relationship with her family was somewhat strained (due to the fact that she’d been lying to them both explicitly and implicitly since she was eleven), she wouldn’t trade them for anything. She was closer to Sirius and Remus than most people were to their blood uncles. And without Archie, her life would have been completely different.
Without Archie, without the ruse, she would’ve gone to AIM alone. She would never have tried to learn Healing. She wouldn’t have been in the Lower Alleys looking for a job, never would’ve met Leo, never had the Guild internship, never caught Professor Snape’s attention on her own merit, maybe never invented Shaped Imbuing at all. Draco might have died. Tiberius Ogden, too. Ginny would be dead or in Azkaban.
Harry wouldn’t know how to fight or protect herself. She wouldn’t have been poisoned by a basilisk and almost died in the Chamber — she wouldn’t have been tortured in the Forbidden Forest all those endless days — she wouldn’t have competed in the tournament and seen what she was capable of, at the end of everything.
Without the ruse, she wouldn’t be here either, standing with Caelum Lestrange in the middle of Diagon Alley. If the marriage law had passed the same way, she would’ve fled to America rather than marry the boy she’d first met years ago. Their odd friendship never would’ve had the chance to grow as it had, in unsteady jumps, over steaming cauldrons and steamed dumplings.
“Are you even listening?” Caelum’s voice snapped her out of her stupor.
“Sorry, no, what were you saying?” She blinked up at him apologetically.
“Nothing,” he said, transparently sulky. “Go get your dress robes.”
Before he went to leave, she found herself saying, “Do you want to come over tonight?”
Sulkiness turned to shock on his face. “What?”
“I’m not propositioning you,” she said hastily, aware of the interested glances from passerby at the two of them standing awkwardly together. “I just thought it might be nice to talk about the gala, get our act together. And maybe we could brew something.”
Caelum bit his lip, something she’d never seen him do before. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’m free in a few hours. Go on to your appointment, before you irritate Twilfitt with your lateness and get stuck with some atrocious ensemble that’ll shame us both.”
“Perish the thought.”
When Harry glanced back over her shoulder on her way down the Alley, Caelum was still standing outside Gringotts.
Two hours later, Harry Flooed back to Potter Place empty-handed. Twilfitt had told Harry she would owl the custom robes out in time for the gala. The older woman had fussed over the fitting and design, wrapping Harry in swaths of colorful fabric and measuring every inch of her Polyjuiced form. Harry had paid a sinful amount of Galleons for the honor.
“Hello?” Harry called, but she didn’t hear any response. She supposed her mother and Addy must have gone to Sirius’s, or out to a park to enjoy the sunshine.
Harry made her way down the basement stairs to her lab, cleaning up self-consciously. She normally kept her workspace neat, but there was only so much she could do about the stains on her worktable or the chips in her old knife sets. She shoved the knives away in a drawer and pulled out her nicer sets from her potions bag.
She went back upstairs in time to catch Caelum coming out of the Floo. It was only his second time at Potter Place. They stood for a moment, in front of the fireplace, looking at each other. Caelum always looked good in his brewing robes, but it was more than that. Last time, when she’d rounded the corner with James on her heels to greet Caelum, the whole situation had felt strange and surreal. Now, having Caelum Lestrange in her living room felt oddly… right.
“You came,” she said.
“Yes, I did,” he said, instead of biting out something like clearly or are we pointing out obvious facts now, Potter, should I bring up your horrendous hair?
Harry blushed and pulled herself out of her imagination. “I was thinking it might be interesting to collaborate on a Shaped Imbuing project. I haven’t tried imbuing multiple spells yet — I’m not sure the base can handle it — but I wonder if each individual spell is composed of a smaller quantity of magic, making the net magic imbued in the potion the same, and the timing is right, it would be enough to hold the potion together. Come try it with me?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Lucky you have me here. Explain that theory again, like a potions theorist instead of a drunk apprentice this time.”
There was the snark she’d missed. “Just come through here —”
Around the corner, Harry barreled right into her little sister, who was toddling towards the hall bathroom with her chin covered in orange juice. Evidently, Addy had returned sometime while Harry had been cleaning up her workstation in the lab.
“Hawwy!” Addy said joyfully. The toddler still hadn’t mastered the “R” sound despite general improvements in her vocabulary.
“This is my little sister, Addy,” Harry introduced. “Addy, this is Caelum.”
She wasn’t sure what else to say in her introduction. Caelum’s last name wouldn’t matter to Addy, unless Harry specified that he was related to Sirius. Should she have said, Caelum, my boyfriend, which was true as far as her parents knew, even if it sounded strange in those words?
“Nice to meet you,” Caelum greeted, so warmly that Harry was taken aback.
“Lo, Kay-loom!” Addy completely butchered Caelum’s name, which made Harry wince.
Caelum, though, laughed. “It took me a while to get it, too, Addy,” he confided. “I didn’t get my cousin Regulus’ name straight until I was at least 6 or 7. They don’t make it easy on children, the Blacks. ”
“When is your birfday? I’m two!” Addy put up two fingers to show Caelum.
Caelum glanced over at Harry, his blue eyes crinkling slightly. “My birthday is in June. I just turned nineteen.”
“You’re bigger than me,” Addy said sadly.
“You’ll catch up before you know it, Addy.” Harry smiled at her sister. “Where’s mum?”
Addy pointed upstairs. “Sleepin’. Uncle Wemus made a snack with bwoccoli. I hate bwoccoli.” She pouted at Caelum, possibly hoping he would offer her something else to eat. Sirius was known to succumb to Addy’s puppy-dog eyes, usually producing candy or snacks from his pockets.
“I’m so jealous. Broccoli is delicious,” Caelum said, with a wink in Harry’s direction.
“Go back and finish your snack, sweetheart,” Harry suggested. “Caelum and I have some brewing to do downstairs.” At Addy’s frown, she added, “He’ll come say good-bye to you before he leaves, okay?”
“Kay,” Addy said, deflated, and trudged back to the kitchen.
Harry led Caelum down to the lab, feeling somewhat nonplussed at his treatment of her sister.
“What?” he demanded.
“Nothing, just… surprised. You were very sweet to Addy. She already likes you better than me, not that it’s a high bar.” Harry laughed self-consciously as she lit the fire under her cauldron.
“Why is it so surprising that I find children tolerable?” Caelum crossed his arms. “They haven’t had the opportunity to become cynical, stupid adults yet. And children will tell you what they really think.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Harry said.
“Your sister doesn’t like me better than you. I’m just new and different. And children are often starstruck by beauty, you know.”
“Oh, is that why you stare so much at me?” Harry joked.
Caelum huffed. “Get out the ingredients for your base, Potter.”
She did. He watched her prep them in silence for a while. He didn’t offer to help, and she didn’t ask him to. She didn’t need his help for this part — truthfully, she could have tried the whole double-spell experiment without him at all, no matter what she’d said about timing.
“Did you ever want a little sister?” Harry asked, not looking up from her chopping.
He cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t go around asking people that, Potter. Haven’t you learned about the Fade in those Healing classes of yours?”
Harry immediately felt horrible. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that your parents — that your family was affected.” Honestly, after seeing Bellatrix and Rodolphus interact with each other, and hearing Bellatrix talk about Caelum, she’d assumed they’d produced one Heir and called it quits. None of the Lestranges seemed the warm, familial type. Although, she thought, with the way Caelum had smiled down at Addy, maybe her judgement had been flawed.
Caelum ran a finger over her lab table as if checking for dust. “It was a long time ago. I was young. They should have known better.” His explanation sounded flat, his expression shuttered.
Harry changed the subject. “So, about my idea…”
He relaxed around her once they’d switched topics, standing too close to each other by the heat of the cauldron. It was hard to gauge time in the lab, with no windows, but Harry’s stomach eventually started rumbling. Unlike Addy, she hadn’t eaten a midafternoon snack, and she’d only eaten a light lunch before going to Tate’s apothecary in Diagon.
Together, they finished up work on the experimental potion, which accepted the imbued magic components of a Levitation Charm (her magic) and a Lumos (his). A small glowing ball was produced, which remained in place, bobbing over the spot where the potion was carefully poured. She gave Caelum an excited grin over the ball of light. Harry wasn’t sure if the theory would transfer to spells of a higher level than the Standard Book of Spells, Grade One, but it was worth exploring.
“I had fun today,” Harry said inanely, as they ascended the stairs to the rest of Potter Place. It was so easy to be with Caelum when they were brewing, but something about the day had thrown her off her rhythm when it came to making sociable conversation. Maybe the trip to Gringotts, or the conversation about Caelum’s Faded sibling, or the interaction with her own little sister.
The sister in question came bounding out of the living room. “Kay-loom,” she squealed. Behind her, Remus followed at a normal pace. He gave Harry a small grimace, and nodded at Caelum.
“How was brewing?” Remus asked pleasantly, while Addy tugged at Caelum’s arm to get his attention.
“It was good,” Harry said, distracted.
“Did you eat your broccoli?” Caelum asked Addy seriously.
“Yeah! I eated all of it!”
Caelum leaned down to give Addy a high-five. Addy’s hand was tiny against his, but her grin was huge.
Harry felt, suddenly, like she’d swallowed a dose of Pepper-Up Potion, a warmth spreading through her body. Maybe Draco, with his empathy, could have identified the peculiar feeling in her gut, but Harry herself didn’t know where to begin. She tore her eyes away from Caelum and her little sister. When she met Remus’s gaze, he was looking at her and frowning slightly, like he did when he was trying to decide how to market the newest Marauders’ product.
Harry cleared her throat. “Caelum has to be getting home, Addy. Can you tell him good-bye?”
“Come back tomowow?” Addy asked earnestly, giving Caelum her adorable puppy-dog eyes again. Was this what James and Sirius had had to deal with all the time, when Harry and Archie had been younger and perfecting The Look?
Caelum shook his head. “Your sister has more important things to do than entertain me every day,” he said, meeting Harry’s eyes for a moment. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, though.”
After Caelum left through the Floo, Addy sighed and flopped down on the plush rug. “He’s so pwetty. Like Santa!” she said.
Remus and Harry both had to laugh at that.