For a long moment, the room was silent. Amelia stood a few steps away, her expression carefully neutral, though Harry could sense the turmoil beneath her composed exterior. He had never truly paid attention to the details of the magical world's archaic customs and traditions, but now he found himself wishing he had.
"My god, she hates me,"Harry thought miserably, burying his face in his hands. His mind churned, each thought more despairing than the last.
"Let me get you a glass of water," Amelia said gently, her voice calm but distant. She quickly walked back inside, giving Harry the space to process.
As soon as the door closed, Sirius's voice floated into Harry's thoughts. "Calm down, pup. I promise you, she doesn't hate you. You're overreacting."
Harry scowled, his hands dropping from his face. "Then why does she look so upset about this?"
"Because she's concerned, you thickheaded cub," Sirius said with a trace of amusement. "Concerned for you. You should talk to her about it. And honestly? This could be a great thing for you."
"A great thing?" Harry asked incredulously, though curiosity flickered in his tone. "How do you figure that?"
"She's smart, Harry. Brilliant, really. One of the best duelists in the wizarding world. Fiercely loyal. And she's got this unshakable moral compass. Amelia Bones does what's right, even when it's hard. That's rare."
Harry frowned, digesting Sirius's words. "That still doesn't explain why this could be great for me."
"Think about it," Sirius continued, his voice taking on a teasing edge. "She wouldn't try to control your life. She's too independent for that. And, well... there are certain physical perks to being with an experienced woman."
Harry turned scarlet. His imagination betrayed him with fleeting images of Amelia that he quickly tried—and failed—to banish.
"Shut up, Sirius," he muttered, his face burning.
"C'mon, admit it. You're attracted to her," Sirius pressed gently.
Harry groaned, covering his face again. "That's not the point!"
"Isn't it?" Sirius's tone was amused but thoughtful. "Listen, I get the age thing might feel weird now. But in the wizarding world, it's not such a big deal. Especially for noble families. Most marriages among the ancient houses are political alliances, not fairytales. Nobody cares about a few years' difference when it comes to strengthening alliances. And besides," Sirius added slyly, "wizards live a long time. By the time you're a hundred and fifty, you won't care about a twenty-year gap. Trust me."
Harry sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I guess not."
He closed his eyes, trying to sort through the mess in his head. On paper, everything Sirius said made sense. Amelia was undeniably attractive, intelligent, and capable. But was this really what he wanted?
"You've got more in common with her than you realise," Sirius said, his tone softening. "As you spend time together, you'll see it. You'll come to appreciate her sense of humour, her wit, her strength. The rest will follow. And who knows, pup? You might end up thanking your great-great-great-grandfather for this someday."
Harry opened his eyes at the sound of a soft throat-clearing. Amelia stood before him, holding a glass of water, her expression tinged with curiosity.
"I called your name a few times, but you didn't answer," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, sitting upright. "Just thinking about everything."
Amelia nodded, setting the glass on the table in front of him. With a wave of her wand, she summoned a chair for herself and sat gracefully across from him.
Her calm composure steadied Harry, but he couldn't shake the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him.
"I understand," Amelia said softly, her gaze steady and patient. "Take your time."
"So…" Harry began, his voice a little hoarse. "Let me get this straight. The contract isn't between me and Susan at all, but between me and you?"
"Yes," Amelia confirmed softly. She folded her hands in front of her, her posture as steady as her voice. "Susan was never the intended party. The contract was drawn up between our houses, but the stipulation is that the union must be between the current heads of the houses. That... means us."
Harry blinked rapidly, trying to process this new reality. "I—uh—this is a bit much to take in." He looked up at her, his gaze darting nervously to her face, then away. "I mean, you're... amazing, obviously. But this is—this is crazy."
Amelia gave him a small smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Believe me, Harry, I understand how you feel. I've had barely a day more than you to digest this. The idea of being forced into a marriage, no matter the reason, is unsettling at best. But I've been looking into this, and the contract is... ironclad. There's no way out of it."
Her tone was calm, but Harry caught the slight waver in her voice. He frowned, his own discomfort briefly set aside. "How are you holding up with all this? I mean, this can't be easy for you either."
Amelia chuckled dryly, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. "I'm the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry. I've faced Death Eaters, corrupt politicians, and some of the worst criminals in wizarding Britain. Yet, somehow, this—being forced into a marriage—is far more unnerving." She paused, her gaze softening. "But I will say this: I won't let it ruin my life, or yours."
Harry's respect for her grew in that moment. She was handling the situation far better than he felt capable of. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I guess we don't have much of a choice, do we?"
"No," Amelia said with a sigh. "But that doesn't mean we can't approach this on our own terms."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"
Amelia straightened, her professional demeanour returning. "The contract stipulates that we marry within a year, yes, but it says nothing about how we live our lives afterward. If this is to happen, we can decide what kind of partnership we want it to be. For now, it's about fulfilling the contract, securing the alliance between our houses, and ensuring no one loses their magic. Beyond that... it's up to us."
Harry nodded slowly. It was a pragmatic approach, but the idea of being tied to someone—especially someone like Amelia, who seemed so far out of his league—was daunting.
Amelia's expression softened further as she took his hand. "And for what it's worth, I don't think this is going to be as terrible as you fear."
Harry raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. 'Is she flirting with me?'
"You're oddly optimistic for someone being forced into a marriage."
She laughed—a light, genuine sound that made Harry feel oddly at ease. "Well, if I have to marry someone, I suppose I could do worse than the Boy Who Lived."
Harry groaned, bringing his unoccupied hand up to his forehead. He couldn't ignore the tingling in his other hand from her touch. "Please don't call me that."
Amelia chuckled again and squeezed his hand gently. "Come on. Let's get Susan back in here and explain everything. She deserves to know the truth." Harry nodded.
Amelia stood up first, brushing down her dress as Harry prepared to rise. When he hesitated, she reached out a hand to help him, pulling a little harder than intended. Harry stumbled, and suddenly, he was flush against her.
"Oh, sorry," Amelia murmured, though she didn't immediately let go. Her hands hovered uncertainly at his shoulders, and Harry noticed for the first time how close her navy-blue eyes were.
She looked like she was about to say something, but instead, she grabbed the lapels of his shirt.
Before Harry could process what was happening, she pulled him in for a kiss. If they were doing this, if they were getting married, there was no point in being shy about it. Amelia refused to live a life without intimacy.
The kiss was light but purposeful, her lips firm and warm against his. Harry's heart thudded wildly in his chest, and his hands instinctively came up to steady her, though he wasn't sure who was really steadying whom.
And just as quickly as it had started, it was over. Amelia pulled back, her cheeks faintly flushed, her expression unreadable.
Harry stood there, his breath slightly unsteady, his pulse still racing. Disappointment flickered in him as her hands slipped away from his shirt.
"Well," he thought, his lips quirking into a small smile, "If there's more of that, perhaps this won't be so bad after all."
"That's the spirit pup!" Yelled Sirius
Amelia straightened her dress, clearing her throat. "Sorry about that," she said briskly, though her voice held a rare softness.
"Don't be," Harry said, surprising himself. He gave her a lopsided grin. "I think we'll figure this out just fine."
Her lips curved ever so slightly, her eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment.
For the first time since the whole ordeal began, Harry felt the weight on his shoulders begin to lift.
"I never had a childhood Amelia. I'm not even sure what that would look like. I've been taking care of myself since I was four years old and I don't need anyone to take care of me, but it is nice to imagine not having to be so alone all of the time, to have someone to share life with and I- well - what I mean is – I'm oddly glad it will be with you." Amelia eyed him curiously.
"I will be hearing more about your childhood, but not today," she said placing her finger over his lips to keep him from talking. "I have a feeling life with you will certainly be interesting." She said with a smile as her eyes lingered on his lips for a moment. She removed her finger and stepped away from him, smirking slightly as she noticed his flushed cheeks.
Harry smiled at her. "Shall we go tell Susan the good news then Madam Bones?" Amelia rolled her eyes.
"Please Harry, call me Amelia. We are to be married soon after all," she said with a playful smirk as she turned and walked back into the manor swaying her hips gently. Once she got inside, she looked back over her shoulder and noticed Harry still staring at the doorway in awe. Guess I still got it.
Harry followed seconds later, and as they walked he couldn't help but glance at her out of the corner of his eye. For all the chaos and confusion of the day, there was something about Amelia's calm presence that steadied him. Perhaps, he thought, this arrangement wouldn't be the end of the world after all.
As soon as Amelia stepped into the lounge, her commanding presence filled the room. She wasted no time, calling for her house-elf.
"Mips."
With a soft pop, a small, bowing figure appeared before her. "Yes, Mistress?"
"Please ask Susan to come down and speak with us," Amelia instructed.
"Right away, Mistress." Mips disappeared with another pop, leaving Amelia to sit down.
Harry entered moments later, his steps purposeful as he crossed the room and took a seat beside her. Without hesitation, he reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. A flicker of surprise crossed Amelia's face, but she didn't pull away.
They sat there, talking quietly, their tones low and intimate. When Susan entered the room a few minutes later, her gaze stayed fixed on the floor, her steps slow and uncertain. Oblivious to the scene before her, she shuffled to the loveseat across from them, still staring at her shoes.
Amelia sighed softly, then rose, moving to stand in front of her niece. Gently, she placed her fingers under Susan's chin and tilted her face upward, forcing their eyes to meet. Susan resisted at first, her gaze darting everywhere but her aunt's.
"Susan, look at me," Amelia said firmly, her voice a perfect blend of authority and affection.
Susan hesitated, then took a deep breath and met her aunt's gaze.
"We'll discuss your behaviour later," Amelia began. "But eavesdropping, Susan? That's unacceptable. You know better. I'm disappointed in you."
Susan's lower lip trembled as tears began to form. "I'm sorry, Auntie. It won't happen again."
Amelia's tone softened, though her expression remained serious. "I'm also disappointed you didn't tell me about Neville."
Susan flinched at this, looking guiltier than ever. "I… I don't know why I didn't," she stammered. "At first, it was all so new. And then… I guess I just didn't want anything to ruin it."
Amelia's expression softened further. "Susan, I will always be on your side. Even if I didn't agree with your choice—which, for the record, I do. Neville is a wonderful young man. He's very lucky to have won your heart."
Susan gasped, her teary eyes widening. "Wait, what? But I thought—" She faltered, her confusion growing as she noticed the warm smile spreading across her aunt's face.
"If you hadn't run off so quickly," Amelia continued, "I could have explained. The marriage contract isn't between you and Harry. It's between Harry and I."
Susan froze, her expression a mixture of shock and horror. "Wait—you two are—oh my g—eww!" she shrieked, jumping to her feet.
"Susan!" Amelia barked, stumbling back slightly at her niece's sudden outburst.
Harry chuckled, leaning back into the sofa with an amused expression. "I can understand the sentiment on your aunt's behalf, Susan," he said cheekily. "But please don't be offended on my behalf. Your aunt is an extremely attractive woman. I consider myself very lucky."
Susan blinked at him, her shock giving way to a reluctant giggle. The tension in the room eased noticeably as Amelia shot Harry a dry, amused look.
"Nice one, pup," came Sirius's familiar voice in his mind.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Susan said, still giggling. "It's just really weird to think about you being my uncle one day." She blushed furiously but took a steadying breath. "But… I don't think I've ever seen my aunt smile the way she is right now. She deserves happiness more than anyone I know. If you make her happy, then I'll be happy for you."
Amelia's smile grew, and Harry felt a warm sense of gratitude as Susan approached to give them both a hug.
"Congratulations, you two," she said sincerely. "I'm going to go tell Neville!"
"Susan?" Harry called firmly, stopping her at the door. "It's alright if you tell Neville, but please don't tell anyone else—not even Hannah. We'd like to share the news when we're ready." He glanced at Amelia, who nodded in agreement.
"Of course, Harry. It's your story to tell, not mine. I'll respect that," Susan promised before disappearing through the doorway.
Harry let out a deep sigh of relief, leaning back into the sofa. "Well, that went better than I expected."
"Better than I expected too," Amelia agreed, moving closer to him. She stopped when she was barely a breath away and tilted her head, a playful smirk on her lips. "So… you think I'm extremely attractive, huh?"
Harry's pulse quickened as he blushed furiously, his usual composure deserting him. He managed a sheepish nod, unable to meet her amused gaze.
"I suppose I should thank you for the compliment," Amelia teased, taking another small step forward until their bodies just barely touched.
Harry swallowed hard, his heart pounding. Before he could muster a reply, Amelia leaned in and kissed him.
This kiss was firmer, more exploratory, and Harry found himself responding eagerly, his hands instinctively finding her waist. She was warm, soft, and intoxicatingly close.
"Perhaps Sirius was right about experienced witches," Harry thought dazedly. "She's definitely a fantastic kisser."
"Of course I'm right," Sirius's voice quipped in his head.
"Go away, mutt. I'm busy," Harry thought back irritably, dismissing him.
When Amelia finally pulled back, they were both breathing heavily, her cheeks and neck beautifully flushed. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the room around them forgotten.
Amelia sighed, her expression turning serious. "We should probably head to Gringotts. They mentioned it was imperative we meet with them as soon as possible. And I do have several questions for them."
Harry nodded, though his mind was still reeling. She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the fireplace with purposeful determination.
"Diagon Alley," Harry called as he stepped into the floo behind Amelia, and in a flash of green fire, he disappeared.
O – o – o – o
As soon as they stepped out of the fireplace, Amelia grabbed Harry's hand once more, pulling him through the bustling Gringotts lobby with her usual determination. Inside, her sharp eyes scanned the room until she spotted an open teller. Letting go of Harry's hand, she gestured for him to follow.
"Hello, Master Teller," Amelia greeted crisply. "May we speak with Master Griphook? We have urgent business regarding the Potter-Bones contract."
The goblin teller's eyes flicked up in mild surprise, but he quickly nodded. "Of course. Master Griphook will escort you shortly, Madam Bones. Lord Potter-Black," he added, nodding respectfully to each of them.
Harry shifted uncomfortably at the formal title but said nothing. Just a few minutes later, a familiar goblin strode through a pair of ornate double doors.
"Follow me," Griphook instructed without preamble, leading them to a private office.
Once seated, Amelia wasted no time. "We're here about the marriage contract," she said.
In response, a small stack of parchment appeared on the desk. Griphook pushed one sheet forward and began explaining.
"Both of you need to sign here," he said, pointing with a clawed finger. "This confirms your agreement to the terms. You will have until June 15th of next year to complete the marriage, or both of you will forfeit your magic."
"That simple?" Amelia asked, raising an eyebrow.
Griphook gave her a toothy grin and placed a blood quill on the desk.
Harry's reaction was immediate—a flash of dread crossed his face, and he paled visibly. Amelia noticed but decided to file it away for later. She slipped her monocle from her pocket and carefully read through the document. Beside her, Harry groaned softly.
"What's that about?" Amelia thought, sneaking a glance at him. His expression was hard to read—focused and tense—but he said nothing, so she didn't press.
When she was satisfied, Amelia signed her name with steady confidence. Harry hesitated briefly, glaring at the quill, but eventually signed as well.
Once it was done, Amelia turned to him. "Shall we aim for the 14th, then?"
Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "Maybe we should plan it for earlier. With my luck, I'll end up in the hospital wing or something right before, and we'd both lose our magic. Better not cut it so close."
Amelia tilted her head, giving him a curious look. "What kind of trouble does this boy get into?" she wondered. "Hospital wing? If he misses our wedding, I'll incapacitate him myself."
"Very well, Harry," she said, her tone half-amused. "But we will be discussing these 'close calls' of yours."
Harry winced and nodded.
Turning back to Griphook, Amelia continued, "What do you know about the time enchantments placed on this contract?"
Griphook adjusted his spectacles and replied, "The enchantments appear to be designed to preserve the contract in stasis until it was triggered. Once activated, they enforce adherence to the terms within a specific timeframe. Beyond that, their purpose is standard enforcement. We know nothing further."
Amelia nodded, though her sharp eyes remained skeptical. "And the other time-sensitive conditions?"
"There are two," Griphook explained. "First, you had two weeks from being notified to accept the contract—which you have done today. Second, you are required to produce an heir within three years, either by birth or through blood adoption. There are no additional time constraints regarding subsequent children. However, the contract stipulates that if you have two sons, the second should carry the surname of the family without an heir to preserve the family line."
Harry blushed furiously at the mention of children, and Amelia couldn't help smirking slightly as she laced her fingers with his.
"Is there anything else I can assist you with today?" Griphook asked, his tone growing impatient.
This time, Harry cleared his throat and spoke. "Yes, Master Griphook. Could you grant Amelia access to both the Potter and Black vaults?"
Amelia's eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at Harry questioningly.
"I know you have your own money," he said, answering her unspoken question. "But it makes sense for you to have access to mine too. Besides, there's a ton of stuff in those vaults. You might find something interesting."
Amelia smiled softly. She appreciated his thoughtfulness, even if she didn't need the gesture.
"Do you have bottomless bags and Muggle credit cards for the vaults?" she asked suddenly.
Harry blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Muggle credit cards? And what's a bottomless bag?"
Amelia raised an eyebrow. "A bottomless bag lets you withdraw wizarding money directly from your vault without coming to Gringotts. You just tell it how much you need, and it appears. I'm surprised you weren't informed—it's fairly standard for wizards."
Harry turned to Griphook with a meaningful look. "Why wasn't I told about these?"
Griphook inclined his head apologetically. "An oversight, Lord Potter-Black. Such items are available to all account holders, but it is up to the client to request them. It is easy to forget you were not raised in the wizarding world. No slight was intended. I will ensure you receive a full list of account options and Gringotts bylaws for future reference."
Harry nodded, satisfied. "Thank you, Griphook. We'll take two bags and two credit cards for each vault, please."
"As you wish," the goblin said. In moments, the requested items appeared on the desk.
"Anything else?" Griphook asked, his tone signaling the end of their meeting.
"No, that will be all. Thank you for your assistance," Amelia said, rising gracefully while still holding Harry's hand.
As they left Gringotts and walked hand-in-hand down Diagon Alley, both were lost in their thoughts. They stopped in front of the Leaky Cauldron, and Amelia turned to face Harry.
"It is Saturday tomorrow, so I'm off work. Are you busy?" she asked, surprised by the twinge of disappointment at the idea he might be.
"For you, Amelia, I'm never busy," Harry replied with a grin that made her stomach flutter.
"God, what that grin does to me," she thought, feeling a blush rise. She quickly composed herself.
"Meet me here at nine o'clock?" she asked. "We can spend the day together, get to know each other better." Harry nodded enthusiastically.
"It's a date, then," she said, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips.
When she pulled back, her smile was warm and teasing. "See you tomorrow, Harry." She released his hand and turned toward the Leaky Cauldron, her heart racing.
"Oh my god, I have a date with Harry Potter," she thought as she disappeared into the inn.
Unbeknownst to her, Harry stood rooted to the spot, his heart pounding as he thought, "Oh my god, I have a date with Amelia Bones."
Neither of them noticed the wide-eyed, slack-jawed Nymphadora Tonks standing a few steps away, her ice cream cone melting in her hand.
O – o – o – o
When Harry returned to Potter Manor, he spent a few hours immersed in training, practicing advanced battle magic in his grandfather's old training room. The familiar crackle of spells and the hum of magic helped clear his mind, grounding him after the whirlwind of the day.
After dinner, Harry settled into the love seat in the lounge with a book and a glass of firewhiskey, relishing the rare quiet. But before he even finished the first page, the flames in the fireplace roared green, and Tonks's head appeared in the hearth.
"Mind if I come through?" she asked, her tone sharper than usual.
Harry sighed, setting his book aside. "Go ahead, Nymphadora," he said with a smirk.
The moment she stepped into the room and dusted off her robes, her hair turned an angry red. Harry winced internally.
"Care to tell me why you were making out with my boss in the middle of Diagon Alley this afternoon?" she demanded, crossing her arms.
Harry blinked. "Uh oh," he thought.
Stalling, he called out, "Alice!"
With a soft pop, the manor's house-elf appeared. "What can I do for you, Harry, sir?"
"Another glass for my friend, please."
Alice snapped her fingers, and a second glass appeared beside Harry's on the table. "That will be all," he said, and Alice vanished.
Harry poured a generous measure of firewhiskey and handed it to Tonks. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the armchair opposite him.
Tonks sat but remained tense, watching him expectantly.
Taking a deep breath, Harry began. "It's about a marriage contract," he said, launching into the story. He explained everything—the terms of the contract, the time constraints, and the requirement for an heir. He didn't sugarcoat the awkwardness or the pressure but also didn't shy away from expressing his growing affection for Amelia.
When he finished, Tonks stared at him, then downed her glass in one swift motion.
"Wow," she said, setting the glass on the table. "That's… a lot to take in."
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, imagine how I felt."
Tonks gave him a sly look. "You seem pretty okay with it now. I mean, judging by the way you were snogging her in Diagon Alley." A faint blush coloured her cheeks.
Harry leaned back with a small, genuine smile. "Amelia is… incredible. I was drawn to her the moment I met her. The more time we spend together, the more I realise she brings out the best in me. Sure, this wasn't exactly my choice, but honestly? I feel lucky. If not for this contract, I probably never would have even met Amelia, let alone pursued her. She's way out of my league, Tonks. But now… I feel like I've been handed the chance of a lifetime, and I'm not going to waste it."
Tonks studied him for a long moment before letting out a soft laugh. "Merlin, Harry. That was a speech. I'm wiping away tears over here."
Harry rolled his eyes, but there was warmth in the exchange.
Tonks's expression grew thoughtful. "You know, Amelia's got a reputation at the Ministry—ruthless, unstoppable, the kind of person who could intimidate a troll into surrendering. Everyone respects her, but no one dares get close. I imagine she's been lonely for a long time."
Her voice softened. "I'm glad she found you, Harry. Even if this wasn't exactly planned, I think you could be good for each other."
Harry smiled at her, his gratitude unspoken but clear in his expression.
"Would you like another glass?" he offered.
Tonks shook her head, standing. "No, I should get going." She fixed him with a mock-serious look. "But keep making her as happy as I saw her in Diagon Alley, or you'll have me to answer to."
Harry chuckled. "I will, Dora."
She grinned as she stepped into the fireplace, then with a swirl of green flames, she was gone.