The Greengrasses Chapter 7 (Patreon)

Wind blew in from the partly cracked window nearby, making the candles at his bedside flutter as the room partly darkened. He stared down at the letter he received earlier that day, knowing the time had finally come for him to take action.

-

Harry,

I have to keep this letter brief, but head to Gringotts and ask to meet with a goblin named Arkjaw as soon as possible. My family accounts have been rekeyed and the heirship changed, meaning it will be up to you to take control of them before someone else finds out something is amiss.

If you’ve decided to trust Aspasia, then you should probably show her this letter too. I know you mentioned the Wizengamot in our last meeting, and since I’ve made you my heir, you can now designate a proxy to represent you.

Hope you’re enjoying bedroom life with an older woman.

Padfoot

-

“You look troubled.” Aspasia spoke as she left the bathroom, having finished her lengthy nightly routine that Harry was coming to learn was normal.

When asked, the woman had said it took a lot of work to keep up appearances as an aging woman, and the countless number of spells, potions, and herb products she used was enough to make his head spin. But he had heard of muggle models undergoing surgery to look more beautiful, so he supposed the magical equivalent wasn't something to complain about.

She climbed onto the bed in a way that gave him an exceptional view of the way her heavy breasts dangled down. She was dressed in a lace nightgown that left little to the imagination. Just looking at her and the large exposed valley of cleavage along with the way that silk belt hugged her hips made his cock surge with arousal, despite taking her in the shower only an hour earlier.

He hesitated slightly before handing her the letter, not saying a word.

She read it, and looked to him in askance. “I have a lot of questions. First, I assume whoever wrote this has decided to make you their family heir?”

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “As for who it is, it’s my Godfather.”

“And he is?”

“Sirius Black.”

That made her stiffen. “Explain.”

He could understand her confusion, as the letter gave the impression that him and Sirius were on good terms, and that he wasn’t the criminal everyone thought. Along with that was the suggestion that he spoke to Sirius regularly, as the letter referenced their marriage contract, which was a relatively recent and private affair.

Harry took a deep breath before he spoke. “At the end of last year, I had a run-in with Sirius. It was then that I found out that Peter Pettigrew - the wizard Sirius supposedly killed before going to Azkaban - was still alive and in hiding, and that it was Pettigrew who actually betrayed my parents to Voldemort in the first place. The whole confrontation was a mess, and I can tell you the details about it all later, but in the end Pettigrew turned back into his rat animagus form and escaped, while Sirius went into hiding. We’ve been in contact since.”

Obviously, he didn’t mention the other details such as the dementors, Remus turning into a werewolf, or himself stunning Snape. But the entire tale would likely take more than an hour to fully tell, so he skipped over many of the details to get to the crux of the matter.

The older blonde was agape at his explanation, jaw opening and closing soundlessly as she processed that information. “That’s… A lot more than I expected. I will definitely need you to tell me the whole story tomorrow, so I can process everything.”

“I’ve been wanting to clear Sirius’ name since.” He nodded in agreement. “My friends and I tried to convince Fudge after Pettigrew got away, but he wouldn’t believe us.”

“The Minister’s even involved?” The woman’s brows shot up. “Never-mind that. What is important now is this news of him making you his heir.”

“How so?”

“Black making you his heir means you need to have a wife who takes the Black name.” Aspasia explained. “I already foresaw one of us taking the Potter name, but this means Astoria, Daphne, and myself will each take different names. Being Potter, Black, and Greengrass.”

“Oh.” He felt somewhat awkward, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. “I haven’t thought about that.”

He felt bad that he was only just learning about this name thing now. They had never spoken about who would take the Potter name, and now there was the Black heirship to contend with as well. It meant each of his wives would have a different last name when they married, and he had no clue how they would figure it out.

Aspasia waved off his concerns. “It’s not something we need to decide now, although we will have to talk about it with my girls. What can’t wait is the Wizengamot, as we need to get you to Gringotts as soon as possible, and sign the appropriate paperwork for a proxy.”

He recalled Sirius mentioning that in his letter. “What does that mean exactly?”

“To stand on the Wizengamot, you need to be of age. What this means for you, is that you need to appoint a representative to vote in your interests, for both Houses Potter and Black.”

“Oh.” Harry processed that information, remembering back to something his roommate, Neville, had mentioned of his Grandmother being the representative of House Longbottom till he came of age. He guessed it was similar here, but without him having a family member to rely on to take up the role. “If it’s alright, I’ll have you act as my proxy then.”

Aspasia stiffened, her mouth going agape for the second time that night as she stared. “You… I’m not sure you understand the trust you’re placing on me by deciding that.”

“I trust you with my life.” He said simply. “I already told you about Sirius, so what’s this on top of it?”

“Still, to give me control over your seats… It’s more to do with the political power that comes with it.” She spoke hesitantly. “You need to understand, Harry, that seats on the Wizengamot weigh differently. Lower representatives and Order of Merlin recipients typically only have one seat, or vote, with most Houses having 3 or 5 seats. And then there are the factions, with the Dark faction under Malfoy currently having eighty seats between all of their members.”

“Oh, um… ok?” He didn’t really understand where she was going with this.

Aspasia only smiled. “It’s the older Houses, typically referred to as Ancient and Noble, that have the most seats. House Potter, Black, and my own, Greengrass, are among them and each hold ten seats a piece.”

It took him only a moment to realize what she was getting at. “So you would have thirty seats then?”

“Indeed.” She nodded. “For reference, my own faction is small, and barely has forty seats. Dumbledore’s currently has sixty-something, but at his height after his war against Grindlewald, he had more than one-hundred and fifty. What I’m trying to explain is that your decision will throw the political landscape of this country into disarray, but I certainly will be able to get your Godfather acquitted in the process.”

That information was enough to give him a headache, and while he already knew some of it from his private lessons, it was still surprising to have it explained like that. Harry was coming to realize that Sirius had handed him a metaphorical bomb to use politically, and that he had vastly underestimated the power that his Godfather’s family possessed.

Arms wrapped around him then, as Aspasia hugged him from behind. He found his head resting against those massive breasts, feeling softer than the softest pillows. “You sure know how to make things exciting, my love.”

“It’s not my intention.” He said. “You’ll find that things like this tend to happen to me. Even this marriage contract isn’t too far out there.”

She giggled. “I suppose not. Still, there is something I must ask of you, in that you take part in a ritual.”

“A ritual?”

“It’s antiquated, but will do a lot to strengthen our bond.” She rested her chin on his head. “I wish you had come to me sooner about all this, but I understand your hesitancy. The ritual is an older one that Greengrass couples sometimes do, as a way to bind their marriage and ensure trust.”

“When would I have to do it?”

“It can wait. We can even hold off till next summer if you want.”

“We’ll get this stuff at Gringotts sorted out, and focus on getting Sirius acquitted first.” He decided, prioritizing those matters. “Then I’ll do the ritual.”

After all, with how much the Greengrasses had helped him out so far, it seemed like taking part in a ritual was the least he could do.

/////

His shoes shined under the hot summer sun, trousers and dress shirt fitting his form perfectly as he walked down the cobbled road. Over it he wore a heavy black topcoat and green tie that matched his eyes, with a fedora that matched his dark hair. The outfit looked dashing on his form, attracting the attention of witches of all ages nearby.

In fact, he was hardly the only one drawing looks, as the blonde at his side drew the gazes of quite a few hormonal males. And this was despite the both of them trying not to draw attention to themselves. Harry had hoped that wearing such concealing clothing would help in that regard, but that didn’t seem to be the case now.

Despite being the middle of summer, the both of them wore dense clothes enchanted to be cooled. At his side, Aspasia wore a gray coat that hugged her body enticingly, with an attached belt that heavily emphasized her wide hips. As for him, Harry wore the nicest clothing he had ever worn, feeling more akin to a fancy pureblood in these ridiculous, stuffy robes.

All of it had been measured and custom ordered for him by the Greengrass house-elves, and it even had a notice-me-not built in so people wouldn’t immediately notice his scar.

They descended down the road in Diagon Alley, as packs of wizards and witches shopped and chatted wildly in the summer sun. It was one of those places that was jam packed in the summers and around Yule season, typically visited by Hogwarts students stocking up on school supplies and new robes.

But they had not come here to shop, but instead to visit Gringotts. The formidable bank stood imposingly at the end of the alley, armored goblin guards standing at the entrance as they walked in. Harry soon approached the nearest teller, an old goblin who sneered down at his approach.

“Hi, I’m here to see Arkjaw.” He told the goblin.

The creature stared at him for a long moment before grunting, standing up from his desk and gesturing for the both of them to follow. Down several ornate hallways and through a wooden door saw Harry and Aspasia enter a fancy office where a brown-haired goblin was waiting for them.

“Mr. Potter, I see that you have finally arrived.” The goblin, named Arkjaw, noted. “And only three days after I last saw Mr. Black. Although, I was under the impression that you would be coming alone.”

“I am Mr. Potter’s betrothed, Aspasia Greengrass.” Harry nodded to confirm her words.

“I see.” The goblin blinked, as he reached into his desk to pull out some papers. “Now that I think of it, Mr. Black did mention organizing a proxy to sit on the Wizengamot through Mr. Potter. Is that why you are here, Lady Greengrass?”

“Indeed.” The blonde nodded. “Harry is not of age, and thus cannot stand on the Wizengamot. It is why he wishes to make me his proxy for House Black and House Potter. Discreetly, of course.”

Arkjaw snorted. “If our dealings with Sirius Black tell you anything, it’s that us goblins know how to be discreet. It doesn’t slip my notice that you’re signing this contract here rather than at the Ministry.”

What the goblin was referring to was that all of this paperwork could be done and signed through the Ministry of Magic, but was likely to be leaked in the process. The British Ministry of Magic was corrupt, filled with connected paper-pushers who wouldn’t hesitate to run their mouths off if they saw Harry Potter’s name on any piece of paper.

If Aspasia went through the Ministry to sign the paperwork to be his proxy on the Wizengamot, the information would be seen by some secretary likely and leaked to the papers within hours. The next day, all of Britain would thus know of his connection to House Greengrass, and his plan to get Sirius acquitted would be in jeopardy.

A dusty scroll of parchment was produced by the goblin then, along with a blood quill for him to sign his name. The process took almost an hour of constant signing, leaving his hand numb and bleeding at the end, as another goblin came in to take the signed parchment away.

“Congratulations, Mr. Potter, as you have officially been designated as Sirius Black’s heir. You now have complete authority over the vaults under the control of House Black.”

“And the Wizengamot proxy?” He questioned.

Four more pieces of parchment were produced, two for House Potter, two for House Black. Each having one copy to be kept at Gringotts, and another for them to take home as a record to show the Wizengamot as proof.

“If that’s all—” The goblin began to speak as he finished signing.

“It’s not.” Harry spoke, earning odd looks from the others present. “I would like to open a new vault, and have all the contents of the Black and Potter vaults combined into it.”

“That… That will take a tremendous amount of effort to accomplish.” If Arkjaw was a man, he probably would’ve been sweating. Harry could only guess the labor and paperwork to create a new vault, and then move the contents from the other vaults into it would be extreme.

“I want it secure, and made so only I can access it.” He continued, knowing the cost would be worth it.

Aspasia’s hand landed on his arm. “Not that I oppose this, but what brought this on, Harry?”

He tried to voice his concerns without sounding paranoid. “My old vault never felt very secure, as I never knew who could access it. Hell, Hagrid of all people was the one who gave my vault key to me, and even Mrs. Weasley has accessed it before.”

Not that he didn’t trust the Weasleys or Hagrid, but rather that he wanted to protect his valuables. Sirius had trusted him with his family’s wealth as his heir after all, and he didn’t want to lose it because of something unforeseen.

Lady Greengrass’s face became steely, as she turned back to the goblin. “Who has accessed Harry’s vaults in the past ten years?”

Arkjaw shuffled through several papers, pulling out a lengthy scroll akin to a muggle spreadsheet. “Other than Mr. Potter visiting the Potter vaults, a Mrs. Weasley has accessed his vaults once, while the Chief Warlock has withdrawn from the Potter vaults on several occasions.”

“Dumbledore!” Aspasia spat.

“Why would Dumbledore take galleons from my vault?” Harry felt floored.

“The Chief Warlock has withdrawn a total five-thousand galleons from the Potter family vault on three occasions.” Arkjaw said. “Our records indicate that he could access them due to the will of James Potter allowing him to do so, along with your status as an orphan under his care as your magical guardian.”

“And what of the vaults under House Black?” His older betrothed looked livid, but kept her calm through sheer force of will.

The goblin shuffled through more parchment, and pulled out a longer list. “The most recent withdrawal from the Black vaults was done by Sirius Black, with the most recent member of the House Black, besides him, to do so being Arcturus Black. However, one Lucius Malfoy has withdrawn approximately four million galleons from the coffers of House Black in the last eight years.”

“M-Malfoy?” He felt faint. “Draco’s father has been…”

“It makes sense.” Strangely, Aspasia looked calm at his side. “Lucius is married to Narcissa Black, Sirius’ cousin. With your Godfather being in prison, he could likely access their vaults through his wife. I’ve always wondered how the Malfoy wealth has appeared more lucrative in the past decade, and now I know why.”

Draco had always boasted about his wealth, and his father was little different. But to find out he had been stealing it from Sirius’ family this entire time gave him mixed emotions. On one hand, it burned to know he was taking gold that was supposed to belong to Harry. On the other, he couldn’t help but wonder what Malfoy’s face would look like when he found out that he couldn’t access the Black family vaults anymore.

“Transfer the contents of these vaults to a new one under my control.” He told Arkjaw, who seemed much more willing to comply this time.

It was only after a metaphorical truckload of parchment was dumped in front of him that Harry began to regret his decision. The fact he had to sign all of it with a blood quill only made things worse, and Aspasia had to practically carry him home in the aftermath.

Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18