Black Fortunes

Chapter 4

Harrigan felt his lips twitch in mild amusement as a sputtering Lord Prewitt took his seat, turning red in embarrassment. Not only had he been caught out attempting to bring a fellow Lord over to the 'correct' seating, but he'd been chastised like an unruly child in front of the whole Wizengamot for the same thing. He wouldn't be recovering anytime soon.

Harrigan had spent the last few weeks buying a proper wardrobe, re-educating himself in wizarding politics and etiquette (something he'd been slacking on rather badly), and familiarizing himself with the Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot and wizarding nobility in general. It would not do to insult someone by accident this early; not knowing their name or title was a sure way to do so.

Considering his companions, he felt a very small smile cross his lips. It was obvious these very powerful and 'Dark' wizards were shocked at his choice of seating, but they maintained poise and elegance far above most of the room. Lords Abraxas Malfoy, Orion Black, and Lucien Lestrange were indeed a force to be reckoned with. He'd read about Lord Black's recent widowed state in the Daily Prophet (much to his surprise, though he wasn't sure why) and he had to admit that for 46 years old the man was indeed a sight.

He studied the Wizengamot as they slowly recovered from his sharp reply to Lord Prewitt, in particular studying Senior Mugwump and Headmaster of Hogwarts Albus Dumbledore. The man was staring at him with a very fixated interest even from across the chamber, something that had gained him a few odd looks from other Lords and Ladies. There was something of dislike and enmity from the man and he almost snorted.

He knew very well why the man was annoyed that he had taken his seat. It was very well known that the Potter family were direct descendants of the Peverells and undoubtedly would have gained the familial title in another 6 months. Now that he had claimed it, however, the man had lost the chance to make an ally of his a very powerful man. Studying Lord Harold Potter with far more subtlety than the Headmaster, all Harrigan saw was a weary man who appeared somewhat ill.

Leaning toward his closest companion, Lord Lestrange, he murmured quietly, "Do you happen to know if Lord Potter is ill?"

Lestrange arched an eyebrow at him but answered in a smooth voice, "He just recovered from a bad bout of wizarding flu, my Lord Peverell. He has been particularly susceptible to disease since childhood."

Indicating his acknowledgment of the statement Harrigan sat back and waited, knowing that Dumbledore would not long be able to hold his tongue. It took a while, long enough for Harrigan to vote in favor of a bill that would require Veritaserum testimony at future trials, something that the man had not been in favor of, strangely enough.

"Madame Minister," Dumbledore began, eyes twinkling at Minister Bagnold, who frowned at him, "should we even be counting 'Lord' Peverell's votes? Honestly one has to wonder why it has taken him so long to claim his line, certainly, the line belongs to the Potter family by right of succession."

"Minister, if I may answer Senior Mugwump Dumbledore myself, as it is my own reputation he is attacking so boldly?" Harrigan spoke up, warm tenor ringing clearly through the room. The Minister gave him a long, assessing glance and nodded.

Harrigan stood and stepped up to the barrier in front of the seats, making himself clearly visible to all of the Lords, Ladies, and the gallery. In a firm, surprisingly cold tone of voice, he said, "I am beginning to tire of your glances and insinuations, Senior Mugwump. The Peverell family heritage is mine, claimed by birth and the stone when I entered this chamber. Do you think me a man strong enough to fool what has been enchanted by Merlin himself? The reason why I didn't claim my seat before now, not that it is any business of yours, is that I had no idea that it waited for me. My parents died when I was very young of a rather suspicious illness while we lived in France and I was raised by resentful distant relatives of my mother. I finally came back to England to see where I was from more than anything else. You can imagine my surprise when I turned out to be from a very influential family, if not the wealthiest."

"As for your allegations toward the Potter family, we all know that it is 100 years exactly or more, not 99 years and 6 months (as it is in my case) or for that matter 99 years and 364 days. The Potter family is merely that and should Lord Potter hold your same desires I shall remind him that I am head of his direct ancestral family line and it is never too late to disown those who deserve it or merit it."

Lord Harold Potter looked startled at his words and stated, "I have no intentions of trying to take the Peverell Lordship from you, Lord Harrigan. Indeed, I would be pleased to be able to speak with one of my ancestral family."

"But he is Dark!" protested Lord Prewitt, who apparently wasn't smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

"This again, Lord Prewitt," Harrigan said in exasperation. "The Peverell family and their allegiance has been Dark for many centuries, it was only in recent years that a few Lords tried to change it over. Dark and Light are merely labels, in any case, the major reason for the label of 'Dark' in the first place is that we still honor the Old Ways and Mother Magic, something that you 'Light' wizards seem to take for granted. And yet you still wonder why 'Light' families are losing the strength in their magic!"

"The Old Ways are nothing but pureblood supremacy, surely you can see that Lord Peverell!" this was from an old red-headed male that Harrigan recognized as Lord Septimus Weasley. The words rang a bell for some reason, but Harrigan couldn't remember for the life of him why.

"I would rather be called a supremacist than a traitor to magic, Lord Weasley! By embracing the 'Christianity' of the Muggleborns you are turning your back on the very entity that makes us so special and unique in the first place! Your family has been losing magical strength for centuries and you have yet to wonder why. And by the Father of Storms and Gaia herself I cannot understand why you have blinded yourself so thoroughly!"

A sudden sharp noise made Harrigan jerk his head to his right, where he spotted Lord Ogden bringing his hands together in a firm, heavy clapping motion. "Very well put, Lord Peverell. To bring us back to the original argument, Minister, I believe it best for the Senior Mugwump to hold his tongue. There is nothing he can do to change the Lordship of the Peverell family; so much as he may want to."

Amongst the reddening face of Dumbledore and the chuckles of both the Dark section and the gallery, Harrigan sat, resisting the urge to smirk. He had a feeling the old man wouldn't be recovering from that little jab anytime soon.

All credits go to J. K. Rowling and Herald_of_Dreams (AO3). This is not my work, it is just a repost of the work by Herald_of_Dreams on AO3 and by Herald-MageAnduli on fanfiction.net.