Harry frowned as he unrolled the parchment and examined the contract. As Bellatrix had stated, her signature was scrawled on one of the bottom lines in bold, purple ink. Two thick, black x's marked the lines where Harry's signature was needed.
"Any chance that this is a moment of weakness?" Bellatrix asked, sounding vaguely hopeful.
Harry looked at her over the top of the parchment, but did not respond. Rather, he turned to examining the provisions of the contract. It took him a few minutes to read. When he was finished, he rolled it up and set it aside. "You're asking for quite a lot."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"What specifically bothers you?" Bellatrix queried.
"Well, for starters I'm not so sure I want to take the surname Black," Harry observed, thinking of his own Potter surname.
"It's better than Ashworth," Bellatrix said. "It's not like you can resume your normal name, whatever it is, and keep your time travel secret."
Harry waved his hand dismissively. "Yeah, and then there's this business about you being equal to me in authority with matters of Black family business."
"Do you want to manage my miserable family?"
"Not really."
"Then you should be grateful that I'm willing to help shoulder the responsibility," Bellatrix said.
"And then you've taken the liberty to practically write out my last will and testament," Harry grumbled.
"If you outlive me, you can do whatever you want with our possessions," Bellatrix said. "However, I refuse to be left widowed and penniless."
"As if I'd do that to you," Harry said.
"Well, good. My having complete claim on everything you own after your death shouldn't bother you, then." Bellatrix said. "There are provisions that protect you. Keeping each other's secrets, not harming each other, and not coercing each other. There's even the clause that says that if I initiate a divorce proceeding, I don't get anything. Harry, it only makes sense now that we're living together. We're practically already married."
"We sleep in separate bedrooms," Harry pointed out. "We're roommates at best."
"You'll give in eventually, Harry," Bellatrix told him. "Your moment of weakness will come."
"Yeah," said Harry in a slightly sarcastic tone, "one day I'll wake up and suddenly decide I can't live another day without marrying you."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "I'm not dumb enough to expect that. However, your moment of weakness will come when you suddenly decide you want some. You won't get any until you've signed that contract."
"Want some what?" Harry asked.
"You know," Bellatrix said vaguely. She gave him a seductive look and reached up to partially unbutton her blouse.
Harry caught on. "I see. Well, it's not like I've been chasing you anyway."
"You will be," Bellatrix promised. "By the time I'm finished with you, you'll be begging for the opportunity to sign the contract and get on with our marriage."
"Oh, please," Harry snorted, though deep down he felt a slight twinge of desire, though it was quickly squashed by pure stubbornness. "Let's move on. What else did you want to talk about?"
Bellatrix sighed, but because she had been expecting the outcome anyway, had no trouble jumping to the next topic she wanted to bring up. "I want to know every detail about your interactions with the Chamber of Secrets," Bellatrix told Harry. "I think the diary may be a very important part of understanding the dark lord."
"Well, of course," said Harry. "It was Tom's diary."
"It was more than a diary, Harry. It was a very complex magical artifact that I happen to think is important. I need to know more about it so that I can try to fit it in with what I know about the dark arts. If we're lucky, maybe we can find some information in some of the rarer books we now have in our possession."
"Very well," Harry sighed. "It all began on the night I attended a death day party."
.....
The next morning, Harry switched off the shower water, pushed open the shower curtain, and promptly discovered that Bellatrix had invaded the bathroom while he had been otherwise occupied. Wearing a skimpy set of pajamas, she was leaning over the sink brushing her teeth. As soon as she saw Harry staring at her, she smiled. "Good morning, Harry!"
Harry shot her a dirty look as he snatched his towel and retreated into his bedroom to dry himself and get dressed for the day. If she was going to play this way, he was sure he could withstand it. Grumbling to himself about the issue, Harry finished dressing and headed to the kitchen where he fried up breakfast for the two of them.
He had just seated himself in the dining area of the apartment when she appeared to claim her portion of the meal.
....
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