"What do you want?" Harry asked Lady Malfoy as she stepped up to him after he'd exited the store. He was still stuck with the dilemma of where he should put all his newly acquired illicit goods before going to Tonks. He couldn't really have her snooping through his trunk and finding… Well, all of that stuff. Although she knew her, she wouldn't recognize anything but the book on rituals as being illegal.

Lady Malfoy and looked him up and down disdainfully.

Was she trying to power-play him? Harry wondered, blinking in surprise. One would think that after one disastrous attempt at attempted mind reading, illegal, by the way, the perpetrator would give up on posturing.

Quite frankly, why did he have to entertain any notion that the woman would bring forth anyway? He hadn't heard anything about the Malfoys after Lucius' death, so he presumed they'd slid straight back into irrelevancy. They had money, sure, but the only really important thing they had was the Horcrux, and he'd taken that.

He tried to walk past the woman standing in front of him and went towards the exit of the alley. Find someplace to either reapply the ageing potion or slip back into his role of Harry Evans, resident soon-to-be 13-year-old.

But, the woman stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

If he'd known how to apparate, this was the moment when Harry Evans would have apparated away. Had Narcissa Malfoy been anyone else, he would have told the hat to make her catatonic. However, she wasn't just a random nobody. She probably had decent mind shields, and if she survived the onslaught, could probably beat him in a duel. It might even lead to uncovering his identity.

"What do you want?" he asked, annoyed.

Narcissa looked him up and down. "Who are you, I've never seen a wizard like you in Britain?" she asked, not answering his question.

Harry looked at her. Really looked at her. She was… frazzled. Presumably a single mother. Her Black heritage probably didn't mean much, he couldn't imagine she got along with the surviving head, Sirius. The Malfoys had likely fallen in relevancy, perhaps even lost some of their fortunes. "You're desperate for something," he concluded. She didn't flinch at his words, but her eyes did tighten. "I'm not some uneducated idiot who will, through any empty posturing you presume to act out, ever feel deferential or on the back foot to some random woman." He paused, letting the words sink in. He didn't want to be too harsh and trigger a duel. What he needed to do was get out of this alleyway. "If you want to talk, talk, but for any debate requiring longer than 30 seconds, you're going to have to sit down with me somewhere and treat me to a meal, not ambush me in some dark alleyway." He looked around demonstratively, at all the people peeking at their altercation. He leaned into the rigid woman. "I also presume you'd prefer to make a scene somewhere more private," he whispered, and twitched his eyes to the left, towards Diagon Alley.

He walked past her. She didn't try to stop him this time but just fell in step. Harry didn't like Narcissa, due to what she stood for. Pure-blood supremacism. But, he was in a situation where it was smarter to talk to her, rather than ignore her. However, while he'd been kind and understanding with the professors at Hogwarts. Understanding even, Harry did know what to get what he wanted out of a conversation, or a deal. Especially if he didn't like the person he was negotiating with. Narcissa seemed to want something from him, and it certainly wasn't the diary. Considering she didn't have anything he wanted, this gave him the complete and utter upper hand.

They walked with each other silently, being given a wide berth. Presumably, this was due to the pairing of Harry, a man who applied mind-melting curses to his luggage, and Lady Malfoy, who was too high profile to bother with. He had a few minutes of silence as they walked back into Diagon Alley, to think about what he could demand from the Malfoy family for whatever they wanted from him.

Not wanting to lose his momentum when coming back to the alley, not knowing a café or something they could sit down on, Harry navigated them towards the one place he did know. Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. They drew some looks, two darkly dressed adults entering the place mostly catering to children, but, one of the advantages of a sunny day was the fact that the kids hung out in the outside patio, looking out at the stores riddling the street, picking out what they wanted and screaming at the passerbys.

Narcissa didn't look too amused sitting in a corner of an ice parlour, of which the main colour scheme was cream (which clashed horribly with her black dress). The server, Florean, presumably, was a bit confused as well at the grim meeting being held in his store but remained professional. He took Harry's order of a "Banana split galleon deluxe with extra cream," and Narcissa's "Coffee, black, no sugar," in stride and quickly came back with their orders. Looking at the head-sized monstrosity of ice cream in front of him, Harry decided that it was time to block out any unwanted listeners. He twitched his newly acquired black wand, creating a bubble of silence around their little corner. He'd gotten quite good at that. Muffling your footsteps while exploring the castle almost every second night while at school would do that to someone.

"So, now that you're buying me a meal, you have until I've finished eating to get me interested enough in the conversation to stay after that's over," Harry said and picked up his long golden spoon. He felt that the tub of ice cream he'd ordered was charmed with a cooling spell, so he wasn't in any rush to finish the portion. He tried some of the chocolate ice cream and hummed appreciatively. As expected, using magic one could make even better ice cream. Considering how great the original version was, that was saying something. He'd come once, back when Slughorn had shown him around the alley two years ago, and it had seemingly gotten even better since.

"You're not a pure-blood, are you?" Narcissa asked calmly, seeming less in a rush now that they'd sat down. She took a dainty sip from her coffee.

"I am, actually," Harry shot back. In a way that was true as well. Both his parents were magical, and even if one even got the pure-blood designation if all four grandparents were magical, he didn't care. If Voldemort could lie about his blood status whenever it suited him, then so could Harry.

"What's your family name, then?" Narcissa asked suspiciously.

Harry rolled his eyes and took another bite of ice cream. "None of your business. I prefer to remain anonymous in all cases. You can call me Charon."

Lady Malfoy did something that he'd previously thought impossible. She cracked a smile. He noticed then that she was only severe looking because she always looked like she'd stepped in shit. In reality, she was only 35 years old, and a classical beauty. Magic prevented ageing, so she looked more like 25.

Not that Harry would be thinking with his dick in this situation. Although, she would be the closest he'd probably ever get to a blonde princess. He could finally realise his childhood dreams of banging Elsa.

"So, I assume you'd be willing to transport someone to the afterlife? As long as I paid you?" she teased, and instead of thinking that she was trying to hire him on as an assassin, Harry understood that it was a joke. He chuckled.

"Well, I see someone knows their classics at least. But no, unfortunately, that's not a part of my service package," he winked as he said that. Perhaps hinting that it was? Narcissa was still a more powerful witch than he was a wizard at the moment and he needed to keep her on the back foot. There was no way implying that he was a murderer for hire would backfire on him, right?

The woman nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I had to read the entirety of the olden Greek mythology as a girl. It was oddly entertaining, considering most of the tales were clearly made up. How does a wizard transform himself into a bolt of lightning anyway?" she scoffed. "Fanciful."

"Yes, perhaps the time of your parents would have been better spent improving your mind arts skills," Harry muttered, taking another bite of ice cream.

Narcissa glared at him.

"It's clear to me that you know who I am," she eventually started. "But I have to ask, what do you know about the Malfoy family?" she asked.

"The Malfoys?" Harry wondered aloud. "Not much. I know they came over at the time of the conquest, which makes them a relatively young family. They overcompensated for that, naturally, buying themselves the appropriate titles and everything, displaying more blood purism than actual ancient families. Abraxas Malfoy went to school with the Dark Lord, where he was seduced to throw his money behind the cause, however, this would prove to be his ruin. His son followed in his footsteps, but before he was old enough to learn that real lords fund revolutions, not fight in them. He died as a result of his misdeeds. Vigilantism. He left behind a sizable fortune, some businesses, a wife, and a son." He shrugged. "That's about the extent of my knowledge." A pause. "Abraxas died of Dragon Pox or something?" he wondered.

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"That about sums it up," Narcissa said with pursed lips. "If you leave out approximately 99% of the information and all the relevant context." She looked him up and down, this time genuinely disparagingly. "Are you even from here?" she said, intoning here as to mean Britain and high society.

In a way, Harry wasn't. What should be mentioned at that point is that when he'd entered this adult persona, he'd switched accents to that mishmash of sounds that would later become known as European English. A blank verse, essentially, with influences that were so muddled they became indistinguishable. And in fact, he didn't identify as British anyway.

"I'd refer to myself as a citizen of the world, really," he muttered thoughtfully. "And quite frankly, I detest the insinuation that I'm somehow uneducated for not knowing every minute detail about some irrelevant house so far removed from continental politics they might as well not exist. I believe that in a world of magic, where one man can grow powerful enough to face off with an entire country, knowledge and skills that are considered oh so important in terms of social collectivism and control become slightly irrelevant."

"I'll have to disagree," Narcissa said primly. "It is this knowledge that helps us preserve our culture and lead our people to a brighter future. Context matters. If none of us learned anything about history, we'd just be killing each other over basic loot."

"Ah yes, the civilisation myth. The belief that only certain education privileges one to participate in society in a meaningful way beyond just being a serf. I prefer putting that time into my magic, so I don't miserably fail whenever I try to read someone's mind, but we're all allowed to have our preferences, don't we?" he said with a thin smile, reminding Narcissa that she'd been the one to initiate hostilities.

The woman flared her nostrils, a bit like an angry bull.

"You're a barbarian," she eventually said, in a very tactful manner, not in any mean way.

Harry honestly considered himself quite educated, it was just that he was educated in muggle matters, which the Malfoys understandably didn't appreciate much.

"Also," she continued. "If you were capable of penetrating my mind, I think you would have already done so," she finished challengingly.

'She's got you there,' the invisible hat muttered into Harry's mind. 'You never bothered with the offensive aspect of mind magic.'

'I was a bit preoccupied, honestly. Perhaps I'll pick it up sooner, rather than later,' the boy responded.

'She obviously wants you to try to breach her,' the hat mused.

'What so that she can call the Aurors? No thanks.'

'I know her breed, you have the diary to incriminate her. She would never. No, I think it’s a test. If you can manage, she probably has a job for you. These types of people think everyone they meet is a servant whose wage they can just negotiate.'

'Should I do it, then?' Harry asked.

'You got some good books and some good stuff from Burkes. But realistically that won't happen that often. The Room of Hidden Things was running low on resalable objects and Burkes is probably running out of things you want. An old house like the Malfoys might provide more benefits that you haven't tapped into, yet.'

'Would you mind helping me out then?' Harry asked.

'You really remind me of him…' the hat murmured, before giving him a sign of agreement. Chanithachuah would breach Narcissa's mind, so Harry wouldn't have to.

It all happened in a second. The communication Harry had with the hat, and the hat doing what it promised to the woman sitting opposite them. She paled, and her eyes twitched. It was impressive that she didn't give any other indication.

'What did you do?' Harry asked curiously.

'I went in. Decent defences, but she hasn't had the practice. You can lose your touch if you don't engage in mental combat now and again. I said, in your voice mind you, "What makes you think I'm not already here?"'

'U nasty, man,' Harry said, as he chuckled out loud.

'I'll take it as a compliment… bro.'

"Impressive," she muttered, instead of being horrified. The Black family child-rearing techniques truly were something else, Harry guessed.

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically.

"The reason why I asked what you knew about the Malfoys earlier is because… Well, you know what happens to a noble house when its heir is yet too young to lead it, and the caretaker wasn't formally introduced to the family business," Narcissa said with a pained face as if the admission itself put a dagger through her heart.

Harry didn't want to know what kind of face she'd make if he forced her to explain what the fuck she was trying to say. 'They're being bled dry,' the hat muttered in his head. And it all clicked in place.

In the original books, Narcissa had been shown only as a concerned mother and a high society wife. Perhaps due to some sort of prejudice, some sort of tradition about gender roles… Lucius had been the one who knew how all the family businesses worked, he was the one who went to vote in the Wizengamot and he was the one who probably led the family Black Blackmail Book. If he had to place a bet, he'd say that Abraxas died of Dragon Pox, before, or at the same time as Lucius was killed. This left Narcissa, who'd likely only ever been raised to be married off, not how to lead a house, in charge of a large fortune and empire.

Harry put together the clues and came to a startling but undoubtedly true realisation. The Malfoys were being picked apart. Probably from the side of the ministry, with Crouch at its head for the last dozen years. From the side of the political opposition in terms of a strengthened "liberal" faction led at least symbolically by James Potter and Sirius Black. And also, probably be their former allies, who, like any good set of vultures, jumped on any opportunity to profit from a carcass of their brethren.

It had been an odd conclusion to come to when considering the vast influence the Malfoys had had in the original books. But it made perfect sense that with the death of Lucius, that wasn't the case anymore.

What this all meant, however, and what Narcissa likely wanted from him. His mind swirled. His process of realisation must have shown on his face, because the woman he was sitting opposite of, sighed.

"I see you finally understood," she muttered. "But it's good that it took you so long. It means you might be who I've been looking for."

"It's all on Draco," Harry muttered. "If he doesn't live up to his name, the period of weakness will be extended even further." Narcissa was currently battling to stay afloat. A strong heir would likely make at least some opponents back off. A weak one…

"He's going to Hogwarts this year," Narcissa said, with an odd amount of pride when one considered that her son was going to the only school in the country.

"And you won't be able to protect him. He's a little boy running around with a vast fortune painting a target on his back, and he doesn't have the appropriate backing to make sure nobody will try something." Harry nodded, took another bite of ice cream and leaned back in his chair. He realised that Draco was even more screwed than just that, his godfather in the original books had been Severus Snape, the head of Slytherin. Draco had been under double protection. With Snape not teaching at Hogwarts, the boy was fucked.

"Doesn't have anything to do with me though," he concluded while idly pulling a booger out of his nose and flicking it away.

"Of course it doesn't," Narcissa said bitterly. "It doesn't have anything to do with anyone."

Harry remembered that with Sirius at the head of house Black, the Malfoys probably weren't getting any clout from Narcissa's maiden name either.

"I'll have to pay you, like I've had to pay everyone else since my husband died."

She'd probably gotten everything handed to her for free her whole life. From people trying to curry favour from both her families.

"Yeah, ok. I won't say I'm not for sale, but, what exactly could you possibly have that I would want?" He'd just gotten the paycheck of his life. He was still going to Hogwarts so he had access to a premiere library. The only thing he'd been able to think of that he could ask for had been…

"You refused to tell me your real name, so it's not like I know who you are and thus know what you want," Narcissa said with a wan smile.

If she was expecting Harry to blurt out his identity at that, then she was sorely mistaken. "What can I say, I'm a mysterious guy. It gives me an edge in negotiations."

"It hardly makes up for your clear political ineptitude though."

"I thought that's exactly why I was valuable because I'm too dumb to take advantage," he said with a grin. He was kind of enjoying this back-and-forth. The ice cream was good. Narcissa was nice to look at. When she wasn't pulling a face that was.

"Perhaps," the woman mumbled.

"We should maybe get to the point though," Harry said. "I have other appointments too." His tub of ice cream was closing in on being empty, and he still had one thing to do in Diagon Alley.

"I need someone to teach my son occlumency," Narcissa blurted out, before blushing in shame, as if she'd made a faux pas.

Harry had another moment where everything clicked together. What was the field that Draco's original god-father had most likely been able to help with? Potions, Dark Arts and occlumency. Which one of the three was likely the most important for an heir of a noble house? Definitely protecting one's mind. From Narcissa's earlier attack, he'd gotten to know that she wasn't too gifted in the area. And, it was one of the few skills one needed a decent practice partner for. Similarly, it was one of the skills that, if taught by the wrong person, could end in disaster.

'With a malicious teacher, Draco could be one nudge away from signing away everything he owns at age 17. Teaching someone gives one ample opportunity to add suggestions and change priorities,' the haid said ominously.

Now Harry had to wonder if the sentient object had done anything to him.

"I imagine you'll need a magically binding contract to allow me anywhere near your son's mind. Which I'd have to sign with my real name for it to validate itself." The joke was on her however, at this point in his life Harry still had two names he identified himself with.

"An unbreakable vow," Narcissa said.

"Fuck no," Harry replied. "Which is what I imagine everyone else said as well." Harry quite liked his magic and life, he wasn't going to put either in jeopardy for a measly teaching position.

Narcissa's shoulders slumped. "A magical contract, then."

"I quite value my anonymity, you'd have to first pay me to even sign the bloody thing," Harry grumbled, while on the inside he was laughing.

"How much?" Narcissa asked brusquely. Perhaps her wanting a more common teacher was also because those were easier to blind with money. But, the people on the top never dealt in money. There were many more valuable things floating around.

'Question is, do I want to teach a future Death Eater how to defend his mind better?' Harry wondered. 'I don't need anything they have to offer.'

'It's always good to have certain people indebted to you,' the hat replied. 'Also, being the boy's teacher, don't you think you could change the opinion he likely has on muggleborns and such? Going by his mother he's not a very progressive thinker.'

'I'd be getting paid to defuse a ticking time bomb,' Harry realised. Of course, this was only the case when labouring under the assumption he could reasonably change Draco. But, well, he already had some ideas as to that.

"I don't need your money," Harry replied to Narcissa. He could use this opportunity to do a good deed, even if everything else fell through.

"What do you want, then?" the woman asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Give me your stupidest house elf," Harry said.