Epilogue

THREE YEARS LATER

**Lucius Malfoid had endured many unpleasant things in his life. He had endured Ministry investigations, political reversals, financial crises, and the indignity of watching men of questionable ancestry rise to positions of considerable influence.

He had endured Lord Voldemort.

He had endured his daughter's adolescence.

He had even endured several Muggle films, although he would deny enjoying The Empire Strikes Back until his dying breath.

But there were limits. And Harry Potter was sitting at his dinner table. Again.

Worse, Dracena appeared to be enjoying herself.

Lucius looked across the table. Potter was laughing at something his daughter had said. Not the polite laughter of a guest attempting to ingratiate himself with his hosts. Genuine laughter. Dracena was laughing too. Lucius found this particularly irritating. He had spent years attempting to raise a daughter who understood the dignity of the Malfoid name. He had provided the finest education, the best tutors, a magnificent home, and every opportunity to develop the poise and sophistication appropriate to her station.

And somehow she had developed a taste for Harry Potter. .

Dracena looked at him. "Father."

"What?"

"You're staring."

Harry grinned. Lucius narrowed his eyes.

"Something amusing, Potter?"

"No, sir."

"Then kindly refrain from looking amused."

Harry made an effort. It was not successful. Dracena sighed.

"This is going to be a very long dinner."

The argument began with a newspaper. It usually did. Lucius had mentioned a Ministry proposal concerning several collections of privately held magical artifacts. The proposed legislation would grant the Ministry authority to acquire certain historically significant magical objects and research materials for preservation and public study.

Harry thought this sounded reasonable. Lucius thought it sounded like theft. Dracena had initially hoped the discussion would end there. Unfortunately, she had fallen in love with a Gryffindor.

"What exactly is wrong with making old magical knowledge available to people?" Harry asked.

Lucius put down his fork. "Nothing."

Harry blinked. "Nothing?"

"Provided its owners consent."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"If they won't consent, nobody else gets to learn from it."

Lucius regarded him.

"Yes, Potter. That is generally how ownership works."

Harry sighed. "You're talking about hoarding knowledge."

Lucius's expression changed. Dracena recognized it.

Oh, here we go.

"Hoarding." Lucius repeated.

"Yes."

"An interesting choice of words."

"Well, what would you call it?"

"Stewardship."

Harry frowned. "That's a rather convenient word."

"Words frequently become inconvenient when one understands what they mean."

"Father." Dracena warned. She idly fingered the band on her left ring finger, feeling the comfort of the enormous cluster of gems.

Lucius waved a hand. "No, no. I am genuinely interested." He turned back to Harry. "Tell me, Potter. Where do you suppose new magic comes from?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"New spells. New enchantments. New magical techniques. Where do you suppose they originate?"

"People invent them."

"Astounding."

"Father." Dracena said, with a warning tone.

Lucius ignored her. "Who, Potter? Who invents them?"

"Researchers, I suppose."

"Employed by whom?"

Harry hesitated. "Hogwarts? The Ministry? Private businesses?"

"Some. Certainly." Lucius leaned back. "But historically, much magical research has been conducted by individuals and families. Sometimes over generations."

Harry considered this. "All right."

"I have learned…" Lucius began, "...your Muggle world has enormous institutions devoted to research. Universities. Corporations. Government laboratories. Thousands of people collaborating, sharing facilities, funding experiments."

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"We have relatively little of that."

"You have Hogwarts."

"A school."

"The Ministry."

"A bureaucracy."

"St Mungo's."

"A hospital."

Harry smiled faintly. "You're very difficult to satisfy."

"So I've been told."

Dracena made a small noise into her glass.

Lucius continued. "Imagine a family discovers a useful enchantment. Perhaps something as simple as a charm that prevents wood from rotting. They teach it to their children. Their children improve it. A century later, a descendant discovers that a variation can preserve certain medicinal ingredients."

Harry nodded. "All right."

"Another generation discovers that the same principle can preserve delicate magical instruments." Lucius spread his hands. "Three hundred years of experimentation. Failures. Improvements. Discoveries. All preserved within one family."

"All right." Harry repeated.

"Now imagine the Ministry arrives and declares that this knowledge represents an unacceptable concentration of magical resources."

Harry frowned. "I don't think that's quite what they're saying."

"Then what are they saying?"

"That something useful shouldn't necessarily be kept away from everyone else."

"By what right?"

Harry thought.

Lucius continued before he could answer. "Because other people wish to use it?"

"Well..."

"Because the family is wealthy?"

"That's not..."

"Because some Ministry committee has decided that possessing something valuable is inherently suspicious?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I don't agree with that."

Lucius stopped. "You don't?"

"No."

Dracena looked up.

Harry continued. "If someone invents something, they should be allowed to benefit from it."

Lucius regarded him with renewed interest. "Indeed."

"Fred and George, for example."

Lucius closed his eyes. "Must we?"

Dracena grinned. "Oh, Father, this should be good."

Harry leaned forward. "They've invented all sorts of things. Joke products, mostly, but some are genuinely useful."

"I am aware."

"Their Darkness Powder helped the Aurors during the war."

Lucius's jaw tightened. "I am painfully aware."

Harry caught the expression. For a moment, the memory of that war passed between them. Neither pursued it.

Lucius continued. "An excellent example, actually. The Weasley twins developed those products through their own ingenuity. They invested their own money. They took risks. They experimented."

"And blew things up." Harry added.

"Frequently, I imagine."

Dracena laughed.

"Sometimes intentionally."

"Indeed."

Lucius turned back to Harry.

"Would you approve of the Ministry confiscating their inventions?"

"No."

"Would you approve of a committee declaring that the twins had accumulated too much valuable magical knowledge and therefore must surrender it for the public good?"

"No."

"Would you approve of compelling them to share their methods with competitors?"

Harry considered. "Probably not."

"Why?"

"Because they invented them."

"Precisely." Lucius took a sip of wine. "Now suppose the inventions are three hundred years old."

Harry frowned. "What?"

"The twins are long dead. Their descendants maintain the business. Perhaps they've improved the original inventions. Perhaps they've discovered entirely new applications."

"All right."

"At what point does that knowledge stop belonging to their family?"

Harry opened his mouth, then stopped. Dracena smiled.

Lucius noticed. "Something amusing, my dear?"

"Nothing, Father."

Harry thought for a moment. "I don't know."

Lucius inclined his head. "A perfectly respectable answer."

Harry looked up. "Really?"

"Yes. I wish more people would give it."

Dracena almost laughed. Harry grinned. They grinned at each other.

"Consider, Potter, that inheritance is not merely the transfer of wealth. It can also be the transfer of obligations."

Harry frowned. "Obligations?"

"Certainly. To preserve. To maintain. To improve when possible. To avoid squandering what previous generations created."

Lucius glanced toward Dracena. "My daughter stands to inherit a great many things. Not merely property."

Dracena looked at her father.

He continued. "She inherits a history. Traditions. Knowledge. Responsibilities."

Harry nodded slowly. "I think I understand that better than I used to."

Lucius looked surprised. "Do you?"

"Yes."

Harry glanced at Dracena "She showed me some of it."

Dracena smiled. "The tapestries. Among other things."

Harry looked back at Lucius. "I used to think all those old family traditions were just ways for rich wizards to congratulate themselves for being rich."

Lucius looked offended. "How predictably vulgar."

"Yes, well." Harry shrugged. "I was wrong about some of it."

Dracena's smile widened.

Lucius noticed. Something in his expression softened. Only slightly.

Harry continued. "But there's something I still don't understand."

"Naturally."

"If a family discovers something useful, why keep it secret?"

Lucius considered. "Sometimes because they wish to profit from it."

Harry nodded. "Right. That makes sense, I guess."

"Sometimes because they believe others would misuse it."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"And sometimes, Potter, because the discovery should never have been made in the first place."

Harry stopped.

Dracena looked at her father. "What do you mean?"

Lucius put down his wineglass. "Have you ever heard of the Vesper Curse?"

Harry shook his head. Dracena shook hers too.

"Good." Lucius leaned back. "Approximately two centuries ago, a member of an old wizarding family discovered a method of transferring enchantments from one object to another."

Harry frowned. "That sounds useful."

"It was intended to be."

"Intended?"

"The researcher discovered that certain protective charms could be transferred between objects without being recast. A remarkable achievement."

Dracena leaned forward. "That would have tremendous applications."

"Indeed."

"What happened?"

Lucius looked at her. "The enchantment did not distinguish reliably between protective magic and curses."

Harry frowned. "So it transferred curses too?"

"Yes."

"That's unfortunate."

"Extremely."

Lucius paused. "Then the researcher discovered something considerably worse."

Neither Harry nor Dracena spoke.

"Under certain circumstances, an enchanted object could transfer its properties to another without the caster's intervention. That object could then transfer them again."

Harry stared. "Like an infection."

"Precisely."

Dracena's expression changed. "Oh."

Lucius nodded. "Imagine a curse capable of propagating through other enchanted objects. A cursed door infecting the protective charms on a house. The house infecting everything inside it. An enchanted carriage carrying the curse into another household."

Harry stopped smiling. "What happened?"

"The family destroyed the research."

"All of it?"

"As much as they could find."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Did they tell the Ministry?"

"No."

He frowned. "Why not?"

Lucius looked at him for a long moment. "Which Ministry?"

"What?"

"Which particular Ministry would you entrust with such knowledge?"

Harry shrugged. "The Ministry at the time, I suppose."

"And the Ministry twenty years later?"

Harry hesitated.

Lucius continued. "Suppose a responsible Minister establishes a secure research facility. Appoints competent people. Establishes safeguards."

"That sounds reasonable."

"It does."

Lucius took a sip of wine. "Then the Minister dies."

Harry said nothing.

"His successor appoints different people. A researcher retires. Another copies the documents. Someone decides the original restrictions were excessive. Perhaps the research is rediscovered by someone who believes himself cleverer than his predecessors." Lucius spread his hands. "And suddenly a discovery that one family had the sense to destroy becomes the foundation of a catastrophe."

Harry considered this. "But what if the family was wrong?"

Lucius nodded. "A legitimate question."

Dracena glanced between them.

Harry continued. "What if someone eventually figured out how to make it safe?"

"Then a potentially valuable discovery has been lost."

"You're comfortable with that?"

"Yes."

Harry blinked.

Lucius leaned forward. "Sometimes one must choose between preserving something valuable and preventing something terrible." He paused. "I would rather lose a useful enchantment than preserve a dangerous one merely because I cannot bear the thought of destroying knowledge."

Harry thought about that. Dracena looked at her father with an expression Harry couldn't quite identify.

"All right." Harry said finally.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "All right?"

"I can see your point."

"How extraordinary."

"But."

"Ah."

Dracena sighed.

Harry leaned forward.

"How do we know the family actually destroyed the research?"

Lucius said nothing.

"How do we know they didn't keep it for themselves?"

The silence changed.

Dracena slowly put down her fork.

Harry continued.

"You're saying we shouldn't trust the Ministry because eventually someone might misuse the knowledge."

"Yes."

"But families change too."

Lucius's expression hardened.

"Explain."

"People die. Children inherit things. Sometimes the next generation isn't as responsible as the last."

Lucius glanced briefly at Dracena. She stared pointedly at her plate.

Harry continued. "Sometimes a family that promises to protect dangerous knowledge might decide to use it."

Lucius's eyes narrowed. "Choose your words carefully, Potter."

Harry met his gaze. "I'm not accusing you of keeping that particular curse."

"How reassuring."

"I'm saying the argument works both ways."

Lucius said nothing.

"You don't trust the Ministry because the wrong people might eventually get control of something dangerous."

"Correct."

"Neither do I."

That surprised him.

Harry continued. "But I don't automatically trust a family because their great-grandfather was trustworthy."

Silence. Lucius looked at Harry for a long time.

Then he nodded. Very slightly. "A legitimate objection."

Dracena nearly dropped her fork.

Harry stared. "Really?"

"Yes, Potter. Really."

Lucius looked irritated. "Do you imagine I have never considered the possibility that hereditary stewardship might fail?"

Harry smiled faintly. "Well, you don't usually advertise it."

"Because recognizing a danger is not the same thing as accepting someone else's proposed solution."

Harry considered that.

Lucius continued. "And who, precisely, would decide which families were sufficiently responsible to retain their knowledge?"

"I don't know."

"Ministry officials?"

"Not necessarily."

"Independent scholars?"

"Maybe."

"Appointed by whom?"

Harry frowned. "That's the problem, isn't it?"

"Precisely."

Harry thought for a moment. "Maybe you need some kind of independent review. Not necessarily access to all the knowledge, but enough to know what's being kept and whether it's dangerous."

Lucius looked skeptical. "And what prevents the reviewers themselves from becoming a danger?"

"I don't know."

"Then your solution has merely moved the problem."

Harry nodded. "Possibly."

Lucius seemed surprised by the admission.

Harry continued. "But your solution leaves it entirely in the hands of whoever inherited the family vault."

"True."

"And you don't know whether their grandchildren will be responsible either."

Lucius considered. "No."

A long silence followed. Dracena watched her father.

He wasn't angry. He was thinking. That was new. Not that Father didn't think, obviously. She had rarely seen him seriously consider an argument from someone he regarded as socially inferior. Especially Potter.

Finally, Lucius spoke. "There is a distinction, Potter, between acknowledging that a system is imperfect and concluding that its replacement would be better."

Harry nodded. "That's fair."

"And there is a distinction between private ownership and arbitrary exclusion."

Harry blinked. "That's what I've been saying."

"Yes." Lucius looked faintly annoyed. "I am aware."

Dracena smiled.

Lucius continued. "I am prepared to concede that some families have confused the preservation of knowledge with the preservation of privilege."

Harry looked at him. "Really?"

"Do stop sounding astonished."

"Sorry."

"Some families." Lucius repeated pointedly.

Harry grinned. "Of course."

"But I am not prepared to concede that the Ministry has an inherent right to seize whatever it decides would be useful to the public."

Harry nodded. "Neither am I."

Lucius stopped. "What?"

Harry shrugged. "I said I don't think the Ministry should simply be able to take everything."

"Then what have we been arguing about for the last half hour?"

Dracena burst out laughing.

Harry smiled. "The details."

Lucius stared at him. Then, to Dracena's absolute astonishment, he laughed. "Merlin help me."

Dracena wiped her eyes.

"Oh, this is wonderful."

Both men looked at her.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You've spent half an hour arguing and discovered you actually agree about something."

Lucius sniffed. "Do not exaggerate, Dracena."

Harry laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The conversation continued through dessert.

The discussion somehow led to an argument about patenting spells, which led to an argument about whether magical techniques should expire into public use after a certain number of years, which led to Lucius explaining several ancient disputes between wizarding families.

Harry discovered that some of these disputes had continued for centuries.

"You're joking."

"I assure you I am not."

"Three hundred years?"

"Approximately."

"Over a charm for keeping soup warm?"

"A very sophisticated charm."

"It's soup."

"Potter, you are missing the point."

Dracena laughed so hard she had to put down her spoon. At one point Lucius admitted that the Weasley twins were talented inventors. This produced such an expression of astonishment on Harry's face that Lucius immediately regretted saying it.

"I said talented, Potter. Not respectable."

"Right."

"Nor tasteful."

"Of course."

"Nor particularly well-bred."

"Naturally."

Dracena grinned.

"But talented."

Lucius glared at his daughter.

"Yes, Dracena. Talented."

Harry looked delighted.

"I can't wait to tell George."

"You will do no such thing."

"Oh, I absolutely will."

"Potter."

"He's going to frame it."

Dracena dissolved into laughter again.

Lucius wondered, not for the first time, whether allowing Harry Potter into his home had been a terrible mistake.

Then he noticed something. Harry was listening. Not merely waiting for his opportunity to argue, but listening. Asking questions. Occasionally disagreeing. Occasionally conceding a point. Lucius had expected Potter to be reckless, stubborn, sentimental, and thoroughly convinced of his own righteousness.

He was, admittedly, all of those things. But there was something else. The boy could change his mind. Not easily, not completely, but he could do it.

When Lucius explained something Harry hadn't considered, Harry didn't immediately dismiss it merely because Lucius Malfoid had said it. Lucius found that unexpectedly agreeable. He would never have admitted it during dinner.

Naturally.

Later, Dracena excused herself from the table. She slowly worked herself out of her chair, carefully protecting her swollen belly as she sat up to help her mother with something upstairs.

Harry suspected this was a conspiracy. He suspected it even more strongly when she kissed his cheek and whispered: "Behave."

Harry smiled. "Me?"

"Especially you."

She looked toward her father. "And you."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Behave, Father."

"Dracena."

She smiled sweetly.

"Love you."

Then she disappeared with her mother.

Lucius watched her go. "Extraordinary child."

Harry smiled. "Yes."

"Stubborn."

"Very."

"Argumentative."

"Absolutely."

"Entirely too convinced of her own intelligence."

Harry grinned. "Reminds me of someone."

Lucius looked at him. "Be careful, Potter."

Harry laughed. Lucius poured himself a brandy. He offered Harry one. Harry declined.

For several minutes they sat in comfortable silence. It was an entirely new experience. Lucius considered the young man across from him.

Harry Potter. The boy who had become famous for surviving the Dark Lord. The boy who had repeatedly interfered with plans Lucius had considered essential. The boy whose convictions Lucius found naive, whose manners he found occasionally appalling, and whose choice of friends he continued to regard with considerable skepticism.

The boy his daughter loved.

Lucius looked toward the doorway.

He remembered Dracena at sixteen, standing in his study.

Terrified. Defiant. Telling him he would never strike her again. Telling him she loved her family. Telling him she didn't want another name.

"I belong to me."

He remembered her lying on the floor. Blood on her face. Barely conscious. He remembered Voldemort smiling. Lucius closed his eyes briefly. There were things he would never forgive. Things he would never forget. And things he would never apologize for.

He opened his eyes. Potter was looking at the fire.

Lucius cleared his throat. "Mr Potter."

Harry turned. "Yes, sir?"

"I must confess something."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That sounds ominous."

"Don't be impertinent."

"Sorry."

Lucius considered his brandy. "I unexpectedly enjoyed dinner this evening."

Harry looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yes."

Lucius paused. "I expected..."

Harry smiled. "You expected an argument."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes, Mr Potter. I certainly expected one of those."

Harry laughed.

Lucius allowed himself a small smile. "What I didn't expect was to enjoy it."

Harry looked sheepish. "Yeah, Mr Malfoid. I did too."

"Lucius."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"You may call me Lucius." Harry stared at him.

Lucius sighed. "It appears you have become a part of this family, despite my previous wishes to the contrary."

Harry's mouth twitched. "Previous wishes?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Don't push it, Potter."

Harry smiled. "Harry."

For a moment, Lucius simply stared at him. Then, very slowly, the corner of his mouth rose. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Lucius."

Lucius rose and left the room.

Harry sat alone for a moment, smiling faintly at the fire.

He had not suddenly come to agree with the man's politics, his prejudices, or his conception of the wizarding world. But Harry had learned something that evening.

Lucius had too. And perhaps that was enough. For tonight.