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A shaken and utterly flabbergasted Broderick Greengrass appeared in front of an old, rundown building. There was a strange haze all around the place that prevented him from recognizing the area, only that it was in London. The letter scrunched in his hands was a portkey, one that was supposed to bring him and his wife to meet Harry Potter to discuss matters most urgent and profitable. Normally, a meeting with Potter was all about profit and sexual playacting with his wife, but this time, it was anything but.
For things had changed drastically.
Lucius's fugitive status, the massive deaths, and the incarceration of several high-profile individuals had thrown the markets in an uproar. And Harry Potter was at the centre of the entire mess.
The Galleon Gazette, a wizarding publication that discussed financial news, economic trends and magical business developments had Harry Potter splattered over six entire pages. That newspaper, along with another tabloid — The Potion's Press, heavily discussed his taking-over Sleekeazy to the acquisition of Phyllida Greenhouses which further caused Sleekeazy's stocks to rise. The DMLE had already seized the Malfoy investments, selling them all at market value, which meant a fresh supply of shares for those that wanted to invest in Diagon and Knockturn Alley, as well as new options for the existing business class that operated there. Potter's other company, Moonforge Inc. was also in the highlight, as well as speculation if Amelia Bones's new position as the Potter Regent meant Boneyard Warding would be seen doing business with Moonforge Inc.
And that wasn't even the only thing going on.
Lucius's long and sustained tyrannical reign over Diagon Alley and the Ministry meant that several people had lost jobs, and others had run into financial instability, which Gallo-Loans, funded by Lomfay Enterprises had taken complete advantage of, through sleazy landlords and hired thugs. Several people had been forced to sell their properties to Gallo-Loans for prices far less than market value. Other businessmen that could only stay afloat at best because of Lucius's negative influence in Diagon Alley were now making hay while the sun shone, and creating a larger than life villainous caricature of the man, as if he were the Devil in disguise. There was even a column in the Aurors Weekly, where one man claimed that the Dark Lord was just a face — a puppet indirectly controlled by Lucius Malfoy for his megalomaniacal desires.
And now, both husband and wife were there to meet the one person that was potentially responsible for everything that had happened recently.
Ironically, it was the same person that could now save him from losing everything he called his own.
"Honey," said Anastasia, "let's go in. There is no use standing here, pondering over what might be."
Broderick looked at his loyal wife. Despite the recent playacting and sex that she had with Potter, and despite all the insults she had done to him during those sexual encounters, Broderick felt a rush of confidence that his wife was his, that he held her complete allegiance.
Even if Potter had changed from a pawn to someone that was holding Broderick's balls in his fist.
The door opened, and they stepped into the atrium, where a batty elf that looked strangely familiar welcomed them and took their coats, showing them the way to the office. Broderick had only once been in this place, back when Orion Black ran things, and he remembered how the office was on the first floor to the right, exactly what the elf had said.
While the outside screamed for want of immediate repairs, the insides of the office room were anything but. High, arched ceiling with an exposed wooden beam that gave the room an imposing and grandiose feel, with tall, leaded, glass windows letting in shafts of natural sunlight, somewhat muted by heavy, velvet draped embroidered with the Black family crest. The air smelled faintly of old books, polished wood, and the magical herbs subtly burning in a silver brazier.
A massive, intricately carved mahogany desk dominated the room, its surface polished to a deep, dark sheen, reflecting the flicker of the sunlight. Runes were etched subtly into the wood, offering protective enchantments. There was a silver inkpot, adorned with a thunderbird feather quill.
And behind that desk, on a throne-like chair, sat Harry Potter, the embers burning at the fireplace reflecting in his emerald eyes. What was truly unexpected however, was the portrait of Sirius Black was smirking at him from above the fireplace,, and… was the dead bastard shamelessly ogling at his wife?
Broderick hugged Anastasia closer with one arm.
"Behave, Sirius," admonished Harry Potter, rolling his eyes. "I'd like some privacy right now."
The portrait harrumphed before going blank.
"Forgive him," said Potter. "It seems like even his portrait self couldn't get rid of his bad habits. Manwhore in life, manwhore in death."
He stood up.
"Broderick, Anastasia, welcome. Come, take a seat. There is a lot we need to discuss."
Broderick and Anastasia sat in one of those elegantly carved, high-backed chairs, set up exclusively for that purpose. There was a pensieve floating on one side of the large desk. There was even a large bookshelf against the wall, crammed with ancient tomes in dragonhide and ornate leather, their spines marked with gold lettering. He recognized several of them as forbidden texts, nothing that the Gryffindor Golden Boy would be found reading.
But then… was Harry Potter even the Gryffindor Golden Boy he thought him to be?
'We, uh, received your letter," began Anastasia slowly. "I imagine it has something to do with you taking over the Black lordship."
"Yes, yes," said Potter, smiling disarmingly. "But we will get to that after everyone else has joined us. Until then, Dobby —"
With a pop, the elf from earlier appeared with a tray of refreshments.
"I hope tea is okay for you both."
"It's fine," said Broderick neutrally. From the first day he had encountered Potter, he always had an upper hand at things. Even with the situation at the DMLE had gotten all pear-shaped, his wife had coerced Potter effectively, and the brat was nothing if not grateful for the sexual experience he was gaining out of it.
But now? If Potter was truly the Lord Black then that meant Broderick would be subservient to him from now on, an odd shift in the dynamics. More dangerous was Potter's closeness to the DMLE Director, especially with the Potter Regency, given the nature of businesses that Broderick actually conducted on behalf of House Black.
He'd have to play his cards very carefully from now on.
"Before we proceed to the important bits, there is something I'd like all of us to do," said Potter, after they were finished drinking. "A vow of silence, ensuring that nothing discussed in this meeting will be shared to third parties, directly or otherwise without my explicit consent."
"A vow on?"
"Your magic."
Broderick stood up, shocked. "Ma— magic? You want us to swear an Unbreakable Vow?"
"Not just you, but all three of us. Trust me, it's a lot better that way. The things we'll discuss here in this office today, you'd truly be glad that it falls under the protection of the vow."
"Those are… very harsh terms, Har— err, Lord Black," said Anastasia reproachfully.
Harry met her eyes nonchalantly. "You are free not to swear, just like I am free to choose whoever I want to talk about my latest findings. And trust me, it's really juicy, as your husband would be able to confirm. Won't you, Broderick?"
"...I do," Broderick said neutrally.
"Can we… get some time to think about it?" asked Anastasia.
"Of course. And please," said Potter, gesturing at the refreshments. Help yourself."
"I hope none of your friends or associates were hurt," offered Anastasia, taking a sip. "The attack…" she gave Broderick a dirty look. "It was horrible."
"It was a nasty shock, yes," said Harry Potter, frowning. "My secretary was attacked, but she was able to escape. My other friends ran into trouble, especially the Weasleys. But they were lucky to get timely aid and survive the mess. The Weasley's eldest, William, was hit by a really bad curse in the left leg. He'll be handicapped for the rest of his wife, so I imagine curse breaking is over for him. I've heard that he'll be joining Gringotts London to teach curse breaking to the freshers."
"I.. see," said Broderick slowly. "Potter, about what happened. I know Lucius wanted me to join in whatever madness he was up to, but I swear I didn't —"
"Of course you didn't, Broderick," said Potter airily. "I completely believe you. Now, if we could get to the vow quickly, we could skip the song and dance and jump directly into the matter."
Broderick clenched his teeth. Truth be told, refusal wasn't even in the cards. He had already been owled by several members of the board of directors of Greengrass Exports, demanding his resignation over his past association with Lucius Malfoy. He had already received several owls demanding to know the status of his relationship with the Boy-Who-Lived, who had very recently rented Phyllida from him. If he rejected Potter's request and walked out, he'd have to walk out of his own company before the week was over.
He could not refuse, not this vow. Not anything else that Potter insisted upon. And if Potter didn't know that already, Broderick would eat his wand arm.
"Fine," he said at last. "We will do the vow."
They went through it, and felt it take effect. Nothing they would discuss or get to find out in this meeting could ever be shared with Potter's direct consent.
Potter clapped his hands loudly, and then, Narcissa Mal — Black entered the room.
Broderick shook in anger.
"So it's true," he growled at Potter. "You were behind it all. You dropped those files on Amelia Bones's desk. Files that she pushed on Robards to investigate me. Files that she gave you."
If glares were spells, his would be a killing curse right now.
Narcissa meanwhile, stayed wholly nonchalant about it all.
"I did," said Potter.
Broderick fisted his hands. His initial instincts had been right.
He hadn't fooled Potter into accepting a subpar deal.
He had been fooled by Potter into thinking he was fooling him into a subpar deal.
Broderick Greengrass, Lucius Malfoy's right hand, had been playing checkers against someone who was playing chess.
His fingers itched for his wand. Instead he just sat down impotently, as the scheming, treacherous ex-wife of his business partner strolled across the room and stood right behind Potter, like a protective guardian, looking over her Lord, with a strange knowing smile pasted on her beautiful face. Broderick didn't know much about Narcissa's true dealings with Potter, but if she was present for this meeting, chances were that she wouldn't think twice before digging out old skeletons to ensure Broderick fell in line.
"Why?" demanded Broderick. "What did I ever do to you?"
Potter snorted. "I attempted to purchase Phyllida thrice, and you rejected my request every single time. And then, when the DMLE came sniffing, you chose to deceive me. You and Gideon Abbott chose to lease Phyllida to me for a period of a year, gain my allegiance, and use me as your shield to ward Auror Robards off."
"That was the deal," barked Broderick. "You sleep with Anastasia —"
"Yes, you are the arsehole that let a young boy of your daughter's age fuck your wife while you watched. The same boy you then planned to saddle your eldest daughter with, so that you might quietly arrange for an accident and then claim the entire Potter fortune for your own. Isn't it?"
Broderick didn't know whether to turn red or white.
"You put your interests above mine, Broderick. It's only natural that I put mine above yours."
"And Lucius? Are you behind his fate as well?"
Potter snorted. "You give me far more credit than is due, Broderick. I certainly didn't make Lucius arrange for blowing the World Cup stadium. I certainly wasn't behind him buying hired wands, coercing fellow Death Eaters, and gathering foolish werewolves into enacting his little coup against the Ministry. He did all of that himself. I just took his little plan and turned it on itself."
"And now? What happens now? You said it yourself. I tried to rob and trick you. Are you going to consider me an enemy and kill me too?"
Potter snorted. "Enemies are a waste of time, Broderick. They're a distraction for those unwilling or incapable of dealing with such annoyances. I, on the other hand, prefer having friends. People I interact with frequently. Acquaintances I speak to on occasion. Then there is the rest of the Wizarding world, and then the muggle world. And then, there are targets. Never enemies."
He said it without any melodrama, the way most people would talk about taking out the trash.
And it was twice as effective because of that.
Potter wanted Lucius gone, so that he got the Black Lordship. And now, Lucius was an international fugitive, at least officially. For a moment, Broderick even considered the idea that his friend and business partner might even be dead. For all he knew, Potter might even have something to do with it, especially with Narcissa Black on his side.
And the worst part? There was no way to prove Lucius's death. Dead people were notoriously bad at proving themselves dead. Even if there was no evidence about his whereabouts, the Ministry could still drag the case for years on end, before they settled on an 'officially dead' status.
Until then, the Malfoy name would be dust.
'What am I, then?"
Potter smiled. "Now that's an interesting question. You might already know this, but since the start of the summer, I have been holding the position of Lord Conditional for House Black. It took a while, but I got a detailed check on everything Lucius was doing with the Black fortune over the years. Do you know what I came up with?"
Narcissa flicked her wand, and several files rose out of his desk and floated in mid-air before Broderick.
"House Black has a total of twenty-six investments, seventeen of which are share-purchases in identifiable brands. The other nine are angel investments from House Black, acts of support to help fledgling businesses to thrive in a cut-throat world."
He snorted again. "Five of these were set up by Lucius after gaining his Regency."
One of the files dropped on the tea-table with an audible thud.
"Gallo-Loans, a payday loan company, set up under yet another of House Black's investments, Lomfay Enterprises. Or perhaps I should say, Malfoy Enterprises. Gives out loans at a hundred and fifty to three hundred and seventy percent interest."
The next file fell.
"Mystical Meanderie. Again, owned by Lomfay. On paper, it's a wizarding distillery that manufactures knotgrass mead. But in truth, it brews illegal potions for the other three companies. Can you guess where the production takes place?"
He grinned. "Phyllida. Phyllida Greenhouses."
"You can't prove that," said Broderick. "Our contractual agreement forbids you from sharing the details with anyone else."
"True," said Harry Potter. "But if the DMLE comes up with a warrant, I'd have no option but to show them the books. Won't I?"
"So it all comes down to this. You and your buddy Lucius used the Black fortune to set up an illegal potions market in and out of Britain and made your fortune over the years. While on paper, these investments are shown as non-productive assets. Have I got things clear so far?"
Broderick gritted his teeth.
"...Yes. You have."
"Ah, good. Good. We're on the same page then. Now, being the law-abiding citizen of this nation that I am —"
Narcissa snorted loudly.
"—I should simply do my duty and simply forward all these documents to the DMLE. Now, the companies are worth nothing on paper, which means there is a ton of black money hiding somewhere. Narcissa claiming her half of the Malfoy fortune has definitely gotten the Director pissed, so this would probably go a long way in mending that. It would also go a long way in improving House Black's notorious reputation and start afresh."
Broderick stayed mightily quiet.
"Obviously that would mean the DMLE would get to you, investigate your own wealth, and after they find out that you have been committing financial fraud for over a decade, they'll want all the taxes paid back with proper dues. I think the imprisonment duration for tax fraud is what… twenty years? I'm afraid my knowledge is not quite up to the mark."
"Twenty-two years," said Anastasia softly.
"Ah, thank you dear."
Broderick gaped at Anastasia.
"And by the time you return, I doubt there would even be a Greengrass family left. And if you feel differently, allow me to correct your ignorance. Anastasia, I think you've pretended long enough."
"I agree."
Broderick snapped his neck so fast that he feared he had sprained it. His wife, his loyal, faithful wife that had slept with Harry Potter just to ensure he got out of prison — that wife stood up, and almost hypnotically, walked over and knelt before Potter — a priestess before her god.
"Now, show him the error of his ways."
Broderick watched, dumbfounded, as his wife got up, walked over to Potter, and knelt down before him. Quickly, she undid his zip, and pulled out the monster that had been drilling into her over the last couple of weeks, and began rubbing her hands all over it. The next thing he knew, Anastasia turned to look at him, before smiling as he leaned forward and flicked her tongue over Potter's cockhead, her eyes locked with Broderick as she did so. He watched as she pressed her lips to Potter's dick, absolutely absorbed by the horniness and need to get fucked by the cock she was holding.
"Anna…. Anna… get up! This isn't fun anymore! This is, he's ..."
"I gave you enough time to think, Broderick," she said. "Now it's time you made a quick decision."
"...Decision?"
Anastasia didn't answer. Gently, her tongue ran over and around the head and then slowly licked all the way down to the underside of Potter's cock, kissed each of his cum-filled balls, ran her tongue all the way back up his cock, and took the entire thing into her warm, wet mouth.
"No," wept Broderick.
"Mmmm," moaned his wife, and began working faster on Potter's thick shaft, Broderick's whispers for her to stop being disrupted by the ever louder sucking sounds escaping her as she continued working her head up and down his cock. With every bob, she managed another inch, working her lips hungrily towards the base of his shaft. Eventually, his cockhead was hitting her throat, making her gag, but not enough to deter her from pleasuring him.
"Ana… anastasia! ANASTASIA! THAT'S AN ORDER, DAMNIT!" Broderick growled, his nails digging into skin. "I'm your husband and I —"
"Don't have rights to me anymore," said his wife, pulling off the cock and giving Potter a reverential look. "I belong to him now, Broderick."
"What? No, you're my wife, you're —I'm your husband, damnit!"
"Really?" she sneered. "The kind of husband that left his wife at the mercy of another man? The kind of husband that leaves his wife to this wolf just to get signatures that would save his sorry arse?"
"But — but —"
"But don't worry, husband," she said in a mockingly sweet tone. "I am a loyal wife. And as a loyal wife, I must ensure that my husband also stays true to me. Consider this as me making you pay for selling me out so callously."
"Sell you out?" exploded Broderick. "You agreed to his proposal!"
"And you let me! What kind of man sits and watches and strokes his cock while another man fucks and ruins his wife in front of him?"
"It was —it was supposed to be an act! It was all supposed to be an act!"
"Which part?" Anastasia demanded, giving Potter's cock another lick from top to bottom. "The bit when I exclaimed how his cock massages my throat, while yours doesn't even reach halfway through my mouth? Or the part where he called me a whore and fucked me over and over while you sat and jerked off?"
She stood up, and began disrobing. The gown dropped, followed by her bra, and finally her panties, until she was utterly and deliciously naked.
"Ana— Anna, Narcissa is watching." Broderick stammered. "She— she —"
"Won't do anything until I ask her to," said Potter. "Though she might just join your wife in pleasuring me if you take too long to make up your mind. Though, given how you get hard by seeing me fuck your wife, maybe I should just go ahead and do just that?"
Broderick almost reached for his wand.
"And I'm certain you must be overwrought with rage and all righteous indignation," Potter went on. "But do keep in mind, this is the Black Manor. The moment this office senses even a slight degree of hostility in the air, it will come down with extreme prejudice. And I'm only a third-year, so don't expect me to be able to control it. Please be polite."
Had Broderick been less tense, he'd have noted the way Narcissa flinched at that.
"I'm sorry, Broderick, but you must realise,' said his wife, as she stood right above Potter's cock, and slowly began to descend down on it.
"His cock is far, far better than yours. Look at how thick —"
She sank a little.
"Hard—"
A little more.
"Juicy this cock is. How can your flaccid pencil compare against this trunk?"
She was definitely attempting to put on a show. With one final push, she sank down fully upon Potter's turgid cock.
Broderick watched, stunned. His face was red, a mix of rage, indignation, hatred and, not that he'd admit it, arousal.
"Oh, fuck!" moaned Anastasia. "Fuck me! Fuck me hard, Harry!"
She bounced her arse up and down, not even needing Potter to do any of the work, screaming and moaning as she did it.
"Shall I make you pregnant?" asked Potter. "I mean, your husband still doesn't get it, so it's obvious he's choosing to go to prison instead. How'd you like that, Broderick? I'll ensure that your wife is well-fucked and taken care of for the time you'll be away. I assure you, she'll pop up multiple kids that can carry on the Greengrass line just in case you want more. Or perhaps the Selwyn line? She is a Selwyn after all."
"Yes! Yes! Make me!" screamed Anastasia.
"Tell him, whore! Tell him, who fucks you best?"
"You!"
Spank.
"Tell him!"
Spank.
"I AM NOW HIS WHORE, BABY!" sang Anastasia. "Your wife is Harry Potter's whore! yes! yes! show my husband how you'll fuck me after he's gone! show him how —"
"STOP! I'LL DO IT! I'LL DO WHAT YOU WANT! JUST — JUST STOP!"
Anastasia paused mid-coitus, and looked at Broderick in surprise.
"You don't even know what I want."
"Don't care!" snarled Broderick. "You have something in mind. If you had to give everything away to the DMLE, you'd have done it, not brought us all the way here so that you could monologue about it and cackle like a megalomaniac. You wouldn't have…"
He glared hatefully at his wife, before looking at Potter again.
"Tell me. Tell me right now! What do you really want?"
Potter smiled. A wolf would have been jealous.
"True, true. You see Broderick, in the game of chess, you can kill the pawns, then the rooks, the knights, the bishops, the queen, not necessarily in that order, but eventually, and last of all, you get to the King. But by then, the game is over. But if you just kill the King right off the bat, well then, you can start a new game with his pieces. People aren't permanent, only positions are. You're angry because I upset your world. Now, I can either destroy your entire world for good, or…."
"Or I can work for you," Broderick concluded.
Potter grinned. "Everything stays the same. The companies, the investments, the factories, the people, the galleons flowing in. You swear whatever vows I want you to swear, and work devotedly and diligently for me for the rest of your life. In exchange, I'll cut you a bigger deal than Lucius gave you. The queen, the bishops, the rooks, the knights, the pawns, they all stay the same. Only there's a new king in place."
"You."
Potter smiled. "Oh, and naturally as King, I get a Queen that's devoted to me in every way."
As if to make his point, he pushed his cock upwards, and Anastasia let out another loud moan.
"So," asked Harry Potter. "What will it be?"