Black Fortunes

Chapter 5

When Harrigan Peverell received the invitation, his eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. He hadn't thought that the elegant Dark trio he'd sat near had any interest in him, but then again they were pureblood Lords and held a certain sense of decorum and elegance, especially in the public eye. He'd most likely caught their attention with his sharp rejoinders to Lord Prewett and Dumbledore.

Still, he wasn't one to turn down an invitation to dinner with three of the most powerful men in wizarding England. He swiftly wrote an affirmative reply and sent it with his snowy owl Horus. A certain amount of amusement had been present when he named his snowy owl after the Egyptian god of the sun. Still, the owl's jewel-bright eyes were certainly gold enough to spark a comparison to sunlight.

He summoned his house-elf Tobby and ordered that suitable robes be picked out of his wardrobe and a hot bath with oils to be started. Tobby was a very eager house-elf, though Harrigan was beginning to think he needed to find a female for the very fun-loving male elf. Someone that could tame him and keep him in order.

Shaking his head at his odd thoughts, Harrigan made his way upstairs. His current residence was a small two-story building that he'd bought from the goblins and had appropriately warded, for a price of course. Still, it was an adequate home for a bachelor familial Lord and a single house-elf. More importantly, it wasn't above his funds. He'd spoken with the goblins and had given 1,000 galleons over to investments that the goblins thought suitable. Hopefully, they would show a return fairly soon.

He carefully shucked off his robes and threw them across a chair in his bedroom, ignoring the mirror. Harrigan was 5' 11", with fairly slim shoulders and waist for a man. His skin however was flawless aside from a few pale silvery scars and his profile was striking. He would stop a crowded room if he so desired with just the right appearance and expression.

He sank into the hot water with a sigh of pleasure. It smelled of aloe, jasmine, and sandalwood, with a thick, dense foam coating the surface. Groaning softly as it eased aches he hadn't realized he had in his back, Harrigan closed his eyes and thought quietly back on the past month.

He had expected retaliation for his words in the Wizengamot, what he had not expected was the assassin to strike him practically outside the Wizengamot chambers. He had dispatched the idiot with ruthless ease and left, nodding curtly to the Ministry security as they gaped at the body. All Harrigan had been attempting was defense until the fool had actually tried to use a spell to blow up a portion of the doorway over the departing gallery of reporters and common citizens. After that, he'd simply blasted him into a wall and broken his neck.

After that, he'd returned for the remainder of this particular Wizengamot session, if only to irritate his probable assailant with the fact that he remained alive and voting session after session. He had a good idea who had given the orders, if not hired the man himself. As Senior Mugwump, Dumbledore wasn't going to risk his position and possible ascension of power by associating himself in any way with the assassin, but he knew who had paid the man.

He wondered how much his death had been worth the first time. 100 galleons? He snorted in amusement. With the article by the Prophet on just how deftly he'd handled his attacker Harrigan had a feeling, Dumbledore would be spending quite a bit more than pocket change if he could convince someone else to take an attempt at killing him.

He finally regretfully left his bath, tying back his hair with a deep purple cord that Tobby had left in the bathroom for him. Entering the bedroom he eyed the robes on the bed and said appreciatively to Tobby, "These are perfect Tobby, thank you."

Tobby beamed and squeaked, "Master Harrigan is too good to Tobby!"

"Make sure an appropriate outer cloak is by the door and then you are free for the night, Tobby."