Title: The Enchantress in His Arms

Pairing: Regulus Black/Harriet Potter

It was obvious—to any pureblood with an established spy network—that James Potter's "little sister" was actually his daughter, who had traveled back through time. Luckily for Regulus Black, house-elves were horrible gossips. Kreacher's second cousin, three times removed, worked for the Potters and blabbed when he was drunk on Butterbeer.

What wasn't common knowledge, because Regulus knew how to keep his mouth shut, was that Harriet Potter had saved his life. She found him inside a cave and rescued him from Inferi. He, Regulus Black, had to be rescued. Disgraceful. At the time, he was too stunned to protest when she took Slytherin's locket from him, winked, and then whispered, "Our little secret."

When the Dark Lord mysteriously disappeared less than a week later, taking his Dark Mark in the process, Regulus was livid. He spent all that time uncovering the Dark Lord's secrets, and he wasn't even the one who got to destroy him. That was overshadowed by the realization that he was finally free of the insane half-blood to whom he had unwisely bound himself. Never again, he swore to himself. He would never follow anyone ever again. From now on, he would lead.

To celebrate the Dark Lord's demise, the Ministry of Magic threw a large gala. Anyone who was anyone (and some people who frankly weren't) was there. Regulus had no idea how his brother was in attendance, seeing as he had been disinherited, unless he was James Potter's plus one. That would open up a whole slew of jokes, which might be too distasteful for him. That would be rare. He was so irreverent. Regulus would have been content to ignore his banished brother, because Sirius wasn't as special as he thought he was, except for the fact that his mysterious rescuer was standing with him and James.

She was wearing a daring dress in dark purple. It flattered her figure. He might have been tempted to introduce himself even if she hadn't saved his life. "And who might this be?" asked Regulus.

"Go away, Regulus. She's not interested," Sirius snapped before stepping closer to her.

Oh, then why did she save his life? Besides, introductions were just formalities at this point. He knew who she was. She was from the future. "Don't be so rude, Sirius."

James Potter glared at him before saying, "Harriet, this is Heir Regulus Black. Heir Black, this is my twin sister Harriet. She's been attending school at Beauxbatons. It's safer there these days."

Regulus snorted. It was the worst cover story he had heard in his life, and seeing as Sirius and James were Marauders, that was an impressive feat to surpass. Their excuses were always pathetic, yet the professors were always stupid enough to believe them and let them off the hook, with a detention every now and then. Blatant favoritism, he sneered.

Regulus lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, lingering longer than was polite—much to Sirius's visual displeasure. For once, though, he wasn't doing it to get a rise out of his brother. For the first time in his eighteen years of life, Regulus was genuinely interested in a witch. The fact that Sirius seemed to feel the same way only heightened his determination to have her.

Besides, she didn't have to save his life. She had chosen to be there when she knew he would die. Harriet must've saved him for a reason; nothing else made sense. Why, though? Why was he worth saving, in her opinion?

"May I have this dance, Heiress Potter?" Regulus asked.

Harriet smiled at him, bright and secretive. "Of course, Heir Black."

As Sirius spluttered and James announced that he hadn't given her permission to waltz, Regulus led her onto the dance floor. The music for a waltz started up; he raised an eyebrow in challenge. To his delight, she accepted. Oh, she was rebellious. Yes, he quite liked that. James would be having fits. It was a scandalous dance in general, but they managed to make it even more so. Regulus held her flush against him, enjoying each and every curve and dip he could feel, which was all of them. Hmm, she didn't just look stunning; she felt marvelous as well.

With every society matron or miss who gasped in shock or horror, Harriet's smile grew. She winked at him. "Ruffling their feathers is so much fun, isn't it?"

Regulus snickered, because he had always felt the same way. He, like Sirius, was not fond of constrictive rules and protocols. However, they rebelled in different ways. Whereas Sirius had seen fit to abandon almost everything he had been taught, and throw tantrums until he was disowned, Regulus had toed the line of propriety. And, by that, he meant that he tried to get as close to crossing the line as he could without really going over it. His words were always just this side of crass, scandalous, crude, vulgar, disdainful, dishonorable, and vicious.

"Yes," Regulus agreed. He pressed his nose into her hair; it smelled like lilacs. "Would you like to make some of them faint? I haven't been able to accomplish that on my own, despite all my efforts to the contrary." It was frustrating, because he hated leaving a goal unaccomplished. At the same time, he disliked asking anyone for help. Regulus was a capable wizard, thank you very much.

"Save a man's life and he still asks for more of you." She rolled her eyes. "Wizards!" Harriet smirked, her green eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. "What did you have in mind?"

It was nice to know that she didn't think he was an idiot. At least Harriet wasn't trying to pretend they had never met. That would make her much less interesting. He couldn't stand women who doubted his intelligence; he was almost dead at the time, not unobservant! "Do you tango, Harriet?" Regulus asked, dropping the title all together. His smirk widened when she didn't slap him for it. Oh yes, this one was very, very interesting.

Her laughter was warm and loud, not delicate and fake like most ladies'. It sucked him in and made him wish she would never stop. As they turned again, he saw that Sirius's attention was wrapped up in the witch in his arms. That wouldn't do at all. She probably already had some natural affection for his cursed brother. With how close he and James were, Harriet must have known him in the future. In fact, Sirius had probably been her godfather, which made Sirius's interest in her deeply disturbing. Keeping her to himself was a kindness on Regulus's part.

"Regulus, darling," Harriet bantered, much to his pleasure, "don't ask asinine questions." Her magic twitched, and the musicians switched right into a passionate piece of music that was perfect for the tango. The other couples fled the dance floor. She lifted her leg and wrapped it around his hips, baring her calf.

Nice and shapely. Regulus traced his fingers up her smooth skin, then over her skirt. He grasped her hip possessively and dragged her backward across the dance floor. "My apologies, Harriet. I'll make sure to avoid them in the future." Ah, he was already planning to see her again. She was a little enchantress. He never wanted to see a witch again. Regulus massaged her hip with his fingers and dipped her so deeply that her chest would've spilled from her gown if the cut were lower. Regulus scowled at the thought and righted her again.

He had a horrible urge to punch anyone who stared at her chest like a filthy Muggle. There was something wrong with him. A Black cursed people, not punched.

Her browed furrowed. "You're scowling, darling. What's wrong? Am I boring you?" Harriet asked. She turned her head to the right and pressed her cheek against his.

James was turned away from them, his face a fiery red. He wasn't a very good father, or fake twin brother, was he? Allowing his embarrassment to overcome his duty to protect her. James Potter, what a surprising disappointment he had become. However, Regulus was more interested in the fact that Sirius's wand was in his hand. He didn't think he had ever seen his brother so absolutely murderous before. It was lovely.

Regulus twirled Harriet out, so that her skirt flared magnificently, and then pulled her back against his chest. He pressed their opposite cheeks together and marched her away from Sirius. "Even I, my dear, believe that some parts of a woman should be savored in private." Because at some point, he did think they would be in private.

Harriet batted her eyelashes coyly. "You make my body sound like a buffet, Regulus. Should I be worried for my virtue?" She didn't sound worried at all.

He grabbed her left thigh and hauled her leg around him again, before proceeding to lead her across the dance floor. "Not at all," Regulus purred. "I'll take good care of it."

She was quiet for a moment, and then chuckled ruefully. "It figures that the most honest bonding offer I've ever received would come from a Death Eater that managed to betray Voldemort and live."

Oh, he didn't like that at all. How many bonding offers had she received? "I aim to surprise," Regulus drawled. He stared down into her eyes and knew that his interest wouldn't wane. She had too much history, too much sass, too much magic, and too much wit to ever bore him. And really, he would be doing her a disservice by letting her bond with anyone else; those idiots would actually believe that she had spent the past however many years over in France.

"Hmm. Heiress Black." Harriet's lips twisted in a moue of intrigue. "I've certainly been given worse titles by the Daily Prophet over the years."

Regulus dipped her again, but he made sure to angle her just right this time, so that he was the only one who got to enjoy a view of Harriet's assets. They were delightful. "Is that a yes, then?" She didn't answer him, which was very annoying. "I suppose I could find time for a few Courtship dates first, to ease your fears," he said grudgingly. "As long as you quickly realize I'm the only one who deserves you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Confident much?"

Regulus smirked. "Very." He pulled her even closer, smug that her pupils were dilated. "You clearly want me, Harriet." She shivered in his arms. "Is that a yes, then?" he repeated.

Harriet's delightful laughter filled the ballroom again. "I suppose it is, darling."

This was going to be a fun challenge. He looked forward to it. "Excellent," Regulus said. He grinned and then stole her lips in a kiss. She was a total novice, much to his satisfaction. That makes eight, Regulus thought as another lady fainted. Well, the gala had actually been worth his time. What a shock!

"Get your hands off her!" Sirius yelled, magic fluctuating.

James's head whipped around at Sirius's outcry; his jaw dropped. His cheeks flushed, and he vibrated with rage. It was amusing. What did the little Light wizards think they could possibly do to him? He could wipe the floor with them without even trying.

Regulus never hated his brother per se (because hatred would imply that Sirius was worthwhile enough to occupy his thoughts); he just loathed the way that his elder brother looked at his intended. For once, it was his turn to get what Sirius wanted. Sirius had already gotten what Regulus wanted too many times. Mother Magic had turned the tables for once. Deal with it!

He smirked at Sirius's reaction. It was as childish as he expected. Regulus twirled Harriet out of the way of hexes, jinxes, and curses as Sirius attacked. Like the cowards they were, the audience didn't try to help. His brother launched a frontal assault, which was just foolish. Regulus had always been the better dueler; there was a reason he was Mum's favorite. Regulus had taken to Dark Magic like one of the Merpeople to water.

"Sirius, you might hit Harriet!" James yelled. He grabbed Sirius's wand arm and forced his hand down to the floor, before ripping his wand from his grasp.

This was the most fun he'd had at a gala in his entire life. Scandal. Shock and awe. Illegal duels. Brilliant! Regulus laughed and relished in his power. He was a Black. He was cunning enough to outwit the Dark Lord and locate one of his precious Horcruxes. He was vigilant enough to utilize the house-elf network to spy on everyone who was anyone (and some people who frankly weren't), and amass mounds of blackmail. He might have started at the bottom of the social ladder—a second born son, the spare—but soon enough, no one would be higher than him.

Hmm, Minister Regulus Black, youngest Minister for Magic in history. It had a nice ring to it. Regulus rejoiced in all that was possible, in all the doors that opened to him, because a rule-breaking witch had traveled back in time.