The Last Protection: Harriett Potter's Legacy

Chapter 45: Carrying Them With Her

The morning of Harriett’s return to Beauxbatons arrived far too quickly for her liking. The winter sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the Black estate, illuminating the fresh snow that blanketed the Paris streets. The house felt quieter than usual, as if it too was reluctant to let Harriett leave.

Her trunk was packed, her books and robes neatly folded, and her wand secured in its holster on her wrist. Yet her most treasured possession this term was not a book or a magical artifact, but a small canvas wrapped carefully in enchanted cloth.

The night before, Harriett had sat down with her paints and brushes once again, determined to create a smaller version of her parents’ portrait. The original painting, large and vibrant, remained in her bedroom, its frame gleaming in the firelight as James and Lily chatted softly with Sirius. But this new version was different.

It was just the two of them—no elaborate background, no grand details. James’s lopsided grin and Lily’s gentle smile seemed even more personal in the smaller frame. It fit perfectly in her bag, enchanted to withstand any bumps or jolts during her journey.

“Ready to go, pup?” Sirius asked as he leaned against the doorframe of her room, his arms crossed but his expression soft.

Harriett turned to him, clutching the wrapped portrait close to her chest. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

---

The Floo journey back to Beauxbatons was uneventful, though Harriett’s heart ached as she stepped through the green flames and into the grand hall of the French school. The elegant marble floors and high ceilings were as beautiful as ever, but the familiarity only made her miss home more acutely.

“Welcome back, Miss Potter,” Madame Maxime greeted her warmly. The headmistress’s towering figure and kind smile were a comforting sight, though Harriett couldn’t help but compare it to the cozy warmth of Narcissa’s embrace or Sirius’s boisterous laugh.

“Thank you, Madame,” Harriett replied, dipping into a polite curtsy before heading toward her dormitory.

---

The first night back at school was always a flurry of activity—friends reuniting, sharing stories of their holidays, and the bustling of students settling into their rooms. Harriett, however, took her time unpacking, savoring the quiet of her private space.

Once her trunk was empty and her robes hung neatly in the wardrobe, she unwrapped the small portrait of her parents. The sight of them brought an immediate sense of calm, as though they were right there with her.

“Harriett, how’s Beauxbatons treating you so far?” James asked, his voice full of curiosity as his painted form shifted slightly.

“Are you settling back in, darling?” Lily added, her green eyes warm with concern.

Harriett smiled, propping the canvas on her desk so she could see them as she worked. “It’s good to be back, but I already miss everyone. It’s strange not having Sirius or the Blacks around.”

James chuckled. “Sirius will probably enjoy the peace and quiet for a while. You know how much he loves to talk.”

“That’s true,” Harriett admitted with a laugh. “Though I think he’s glad to have the bigger portrait at home. He spent half the holidays just sitting in front of it and talking to you two.”

Lily’s expression softened. “I’m glad we can be there for him, and for you. You’ve done something truly special, Harriett.”

Harriett blushed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “I just wanted to have you with me, even if it’s not quite the same as having you in person.”

---

The days at Beauxbatons quickly returned to their usual rhythm. Harriett threw herself into her studies, her professors noting her growing confidence and skill in spellwork and potions. Her free time, however, was often spent with her portrait.

Whenever she felt overwhelmed or homesick, she would sit at her desk and talk to her parents. The small portrait became her sanctuary, a source of guidance and comfort.

One evening, after a particularly challenging Charms class, Harriett slumped into her chair, her wand slipping from her fingers.

“Tough day, kiddo?” James asked, his painted brow furrowing in concern.

“You could say that,” Harriett muttered, resting her chin on her hands. “Professor Duval assigned us the Protean Charm, and I just can’t seem to get it right. Everyone else is doing fine, but I…” She trailed off, frustration evident in her voice.

Lily leaned closer, her painted figure radiating calm. “It’s all right to struggle, Harriett. The Protean Charm is advanced magic, and you’re learning it much earlier than most students would. Take a break, clear your mind, and try again tomorrow.”

“And remember,” James added with a wink, “you’re a Potter. We don’t give up easily.”

Harriett couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mum. I’ll keep trying.”

---

As the weeks passed, Harriett’s confidence grew. She began to excel in her classes, her professors praising her determination and creativity. The small portrait of her parents became a quiet legend among her classmates, though Harriett kept it mostly to herself, unwilling to share such a personal treasure too openly.

One afternoon, as Harriett sat by the windows of the library, a letter from Sirius arrived, delivered by a large black owl. She unfolded it eagerly, her eyes scanning the familiar scrawl.

Harriett,

Hope school’s treating you well, pup. Things are quiet here without you—too quiet, if you ask me. I caught Narcissa humming in the kitchen yesterday, which is a sure sign she’s going soft. Don’t tell her I said that.

The big portrait is still the highlight of the house. Your dad won’t stop teasing me about my old Quidditch skills, and your mum keeps trying to teach me proper table manners. (It’s not working.)

Take care of yourself, and remember we’re all here for you, no matter how far away you are. And don’t forget to write—your mum and dad are dying to hear about your latest adventures.

Love,
Sirius

Harriett smiled, tucking the letter into her pocket. She glanced at the small portrait on her desk, feeling a wave of warmth and gratitude.

No matter where she was or what challenges lay ahead, Harriett knew she was never truly alone. Her family—both past and present—was always with her, offering love and support in their own unique ways.