8th August 1988
Dear Lord Malfoy,
I regret to inform you we shall not be joining you on the 13th, having an entirely unavoidable prior engagement to attend to. Furthermore, I am nothing if not considerate of my ward's comfort and welfare, therefore it would be remiss of me to not take our current circumstances under consideration, for as swiftly as I can absorb the written word, it shall take a longer period of time to become acquainted enough with the particularities of our newfound place in society to find myself capable of ensuring my ward's continued welfare in an unfamiliar environment.
Yours truly,
Michael Morgan-Wright QC.
~
10th August 1988
Dear Mr Wright,
It is heartening to witness such fierce protectiveness over one so freshly acquainted with, and I commend you for your attentiveness. While I assure you that my husband and I bear no ill will towards your household, your prudence is entirely reasonable and understandable, and we shall endeavour to present future opportunities accordingly.
Bearing in mind our own unique position to contribute to a seamless introduction into our society, we are still inclined to extend our invitation for lunch, however in a location of your choosing, bearing in mind the proper discretion towards the possible subjects of our conversations.
Kind regards,
Narcissa Malfoy née Black.
~
10th August 1988
Dear Mrs Malfoy,
We appreciate your offer of insight into our society and would be honoured to host a private lunch in the upcoming weeks, at a time and place to be defined at a later date as I have found myself immersed in the responsibilities of my positions both as a guardian and a Queen's Counsel.
I would, however, be interested in prolonging our correspondence on matters regarding other subjects, such as clarification in a few observations made note of while perusing my newly procured reading material. Flourish and Blott's literature has proved considerably helpful in attaining some understanding of what lies ahead but is hardly able to accurately sate my curiosity.
Yours truly,
Michael Wright.
~
12th August 1988
Dear Mr Wright,
I am honoured to accept your invitation on behalf of the Malfoy household, and am available for consultation regarding possible venues, with full trust in your discernment. Time and place can be discussed once you find yourself less encumbered by circumstances, of course.
While not opposed to prolonging our correspondence, I must insist you call me Narcissa as we shall inevitably become more familiar with each other while discussing literature, given I possess very strong opinions on a variety of subjects sure to be touched on eventually and do not hold myself back from expressing them. I will be glad to answer any questions you have encountered in your readings and may recommend a title or other myself.
Kind regards,
Narcissa Malfoy.
~
13th August 1988
Dear Narcissa,
I hope Cito's early return did not cause any concern, my ward and I have recently attained our own means of communication, which will surely smooth out any further correspondence. His name is Peregrin, but Harry insists on calling him Pippin, and the stubborn creature will respond to nothing else. As I have no estimate of the distance he's had to travel, I'll leave it to your discretion whether or not he deserves a treat for his efforts.
I suppose it is only fair if you call me Michael in return, and I have always appreciated the opinions of those passionate about their beliefs since I am no different. I would greatly appreciate any suggested publications, especially on the matter of culture and traditions. In fact, I have found these four contradicting texts on the subject of Samhain and I would appreciate your opinion on...
~
August 17th, 1988
"Is everything alright?" Sarah's unusual question startled Michael out of his swirling thoughts, attention snapping up from the document he'd been staring at for who knows how long and up to his secretary's seemingly worried blue eyes.
"Does it not seem like it?" He replied with a slight smile, attempting to do away with any assumptions she may have come up with.
"Mike," the stern tone gave him pause and he let out a deep sigh, leaning back on his chair and taking note of the lack of Harry's presence in the office, "he's in the bathroom, quit worrying," she added, apparently noticing his discovery at the same time. "The bags under your eyes have their own bags, that is the third cup of tea you've had today, and I've had to repeat myself more times this week than in the past three years. I'm well aware that parenting is hardly a walk in the park, but this is a little extreme, isn't it? What could possibly be causing this much exhaustion? It surely can't be work, I'm the one scheduling your appointments, after all. Four of which I've had to reschedule with very short notice."
"Tell me how you really feel," the joking tone fell flat against the worry in her tone, and he tried not to feel guilty for not noticing his behaviour sooner, not realising how it might affect those around him.
He has been overwhelmingly busy, but it was hardly his own fault! He blamed the bloody secret magical society and their difficulty in providing him with proper answers.
Since the discovery of Harry's true origin, Michael has had to work twice as hard to accomplish all that needs to be resolved in time. Not only did he need to concern himself with his own guardianship scheme but apparently the magical ministry would have no magical child be the responsibility of a 'muggle' under their laws, given they were not technically considered citizens under their purview, thus creating the need for a magical guardian. Children born to one or both magical parents were naturally their responsibility, but those lacking any magical relatives fell directly under the purview of the ministry until the moment they received their Hogwarts letter, which then transferred their magical guardianship to their Heads of House during their stay in the school. Given the age of majority in the wizarding world was seventeen, all Hogwarts students proceeded to leave the school entirely responsible for their own actions under the eyes of the law.
As if not enough complications had presented themselves already, Michael's inquiries as to Harry's magical guardian led him back to Gringotts bank - which was proving more and more helpful - only to find the position technically empty. The technicality was the fact that his would-be magical guardian was a man called Sirius Black III, who was currently incarcerated under very dubious conditions, and he refused to think for more than a moment about the wizarding prison least he started planning a full-on revolution to combat their infringements on basic human rights. Harry was his priority at the moment, uprooting the magical incarceration system would have to wait a few years.
To top it all off, the amount of shady and borderline illegal dealings surrounding Harry's position in the wizarding world was the origin of more than a couple of Michael's headaches. Harry's parents' last will and testament had been entirely ignored based on the technicality that his guardian had to be the one to organise the reading and, given the man was incarcerated, no one had bothered to step up to the plate and get it done. The Dursley household had apparently been warded against any and all magical correspondences and caused a ridiculous eight-year backlog of letters and packages that had Michael paying a large fee to the Owl Post company to resolve for him under a very strict on-the-fly magical contract - since he could apparently write and be subjected to those due to his unofficial status as a squib - based on the secrecy laws he'd read about thus far, as well as exchanging letters with said Owl Post and Gringotts alike to arrange for the warding of his own household after having been introduced to the larger amount of danger his and Harry's life was subjected to due to their newfound position in this society. All of this while juggling his need to become intimately acquainted with magical laws and regulations without slacking off on his own job, which already included two upcoming patent disputes and a particularly nasty divorce hearing as a favour to a friend and a way to get reacquainted with family law as a precaution for the future.
All throughout, the same name kept popping up repeatedly in the most unexpected of circumstances. A visit to the Dursley household showed the man's name at the end of a letter that was nothing less than a thinly veiled threat to any with a keen enough eye to read between the lines, a visit to the bank showed the same name as a witness to the Potters' will and a glimpse at the public trial records in the ministry had him reading said name more times than he could count, nevermind the amount of time it appeared in the history books he'd brought home since discovering the existence of magic. Michael could not concisely communicate, in any of the four-and-a-half languages he was fluent in, the amount of annoyance the name Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had since instilled into his psyche.
So yes, he may have bitten off a bit more than he could chew, and trying to stay on top of things was clearly taking a toll on his appearance enough to be noticeable, at least by Sarah. He hoped Harry was not as perceptive but had a feeling it might be in vain.
"Michael!" Sarah's call had him straightening on the chair with a jolt and the tone of it made it clear she'd been trying to get his attention for some time. "That's it, you're taking Harry home and staying there for the week even if I have to personally confiscate and lock away every bit of paperwork you might try to get your hands on."
"I thought I was your boss, not the other way around," he pointed out without heat, earning only a roll of her eyes.
She knew he'd never pull rank like that after all they'd been through.
"You should clearly leave the thinking for me then," she quipped in a more teasing tone, probably noticing he wasn't about to argue as if he didn't know by now it was a losing bet most of the time. "You have way too many vacations piled up anyway, what with being such a workaholic, so I doubt even Treves would argue against it."
"I have court on Tuesday," he pointed out, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Harry had tip-toed back into the room and curled up on the couch with a mysteriously acquired mug of what was possibly hot chocolate.
"You have a list full of other fully capable barristers that can sub in for you at a moment's notice," she raised one eyebrow.
"One week?" he caved with a sigh, shoulders dropping slightly in relief.
"I don't want to see your face until next Monday, and it better not look like I need to let you borrow my concealer by then," Sarah warned with a slight victorious smirk that had long stopped bothering him.
"Yes ma'am" he stood from the chair with a groan, stretching up his arms before walking up to the couch Harry was curled up on, reading one of his many books. Not a magic one, of course. They'd talked about the statute of secrecy by now, and Harry was well aware of what he could and could not bring outside the privacy of their home. "Wanna finish that at home? I've apparently been kicked out of my own office for the time being."
"For your own good!" Sarah added as she crossed the doorway on her way back to her cubicle, making Harry's lips twitch slightly.
The book ended up staying in the office's bookshelf since Harry pointed out he had others to read at home, and they didn't take long to make their way out of the building. Even Jacob seemed happy to see the back of him, and the unsurprised look on his face told him more about Sarah's gossiping habits than he cared for.
Michael was hand-in-hand with Harry on the way to the car when, while glancing at the street, he felt himself collide with something and inadvertently let go, tripping backwards and landing his backside on the asphalt before he could catch himself.
"Oh god" Michael's eyes, which at first met polished brown shoes, made their way up beige slacks and a white dress shirt to meet the slightly wide blue eyes of the man he'd apparently collided with. "Sorry, I didn't look where I was going. Here," the man extended a hand, making him realise his continued position on the ground and immediately accept the help to stand.
"It's alright, no harm done" He pointed out, noticing Harry standing out of the way by the wall of a building as he brushed off his suit.
"Hope everything's in one piece," the man added, holding out the suitcase Michael had been holding in his free hand and had let go of to break his fall.
"Just papers really," Michael assured him with a slight smile as he took the suitcase back, "thanks."
"My fault in the first place," the man pointed out awkwardly at the thanks, nodding to himself and moving to walk past them before stopping in his tracks "I'm sorry, just- have we met before?"
Michael's brows furrowed slightly, taking in the short, slightly wavy brown hair and square, stubbled jaw of the man that seemed at least a few years his senior before concluding it to be entirely unfamiliar.
"I don't think so," he answered, his free hand already reaching for Harry's.
"My mistake, then. You and your son have a good day," the man added before continuing down the sidewalk.
Michael had probably only imagined the hopeful look in his eyes. Getting some proper rest seemed more appealing by the second.