MARVEL-THE MULTIVERSE TRADER

A few hours later, everyone sat around the table, the air still heavy with the weight of what had just happened. John Granger, looking remarkably better than he had hours ago, spoke up, his voice calm but filled with deep gratitude.

"Thank you once again for saving the life of our family."

Nova waved his hand dismissively, leaning back in his chair. "It's alright. It was just... a matter of timing."

Hermione shot Nova a skeptical look. "A matter of timing? You took down seven werewolves in under a minute, pulled us into a dimensional space, and healed my father's injuries with a serum I can't even begin to understand."

Nova grinned, completely unfazed. "Well, I do try to keep things efficient."

Harry let out a short laugh. "Efficient? You're the definition of overkill."

Nova's smile widened just slightly. "Anyway, let's move on to something more interesting." He leaned forward, his tone casual but eyes sharp. "I've been dying to know — why did Lucius Malfoy go through all this trouble just to kill your both?"

As he said it, the air in the room grew tense — just a subtle shift, like invisible pressure settling over them.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance, brows furrowing as they both tried to think. It didn't make sense. They weren't nobodies, sure — both were consistently at the top of their year, known names in the magical world — but still... seven werewolves? That was extreme, even for Lucius Malfoy.

Then Hermione's eyes widened slightly. A memory surfaced — a letter that had mysteriously appeared on her desk weeks ago. With no sender name and no seal. Just a single line:

"Narcissa Malfoy was born Narcissa Black and married Lucius Malfoy."

She looked up, her voice uncertain. "Maybe… maybe it's about the Black heirship?"

Nova blinked and tilted his head, feigning surprise. "Black heirship? What's that got to do with yo—" He paused mid-sentence, then narrowed his eyes. "Wait. Don't tell me… you inherited the Black family heirship?"

Harry nodded silently. He raised his hand, and in a soft shimmer of gold and onyx light, two rings appeared on his fingers — one bearing the crest of the House of Potter, the other unmistakably that of the House of Black.

Nova let out a low whistle, a sharp grin forming. "So that's what this is all about." He tapped the side of his head. "That tiny little ring… is why Lucius Malfoy sent seven werewolves, and even went so far as to stop the Trace and Aurors. He wanted you dead before you could claim lordship of house Black, at your adulthood."

The others looked confused, but Hermione's mind had already leapt ahead. Her eyes widened as the pieces clicked into place.

"Wait—Narcissa Malfoy was born a Black. According to news last male heirs, Sirius and Regulas Black are dead, and the House of Black has no direct male heir…" she trailed off, eyes narrowing. "Then Draco would be next in line, through his mother. But now Harry...."

Nova pointed a finger at her with a smirk. "Hundred points to Gryffindor."

Hermione leaned back in her chair, her expression stunned. "So if Harry holds the official heirship… then Draco's claim is gone. And Lucius—he's not trying to kill you for revenge… he's trying to erase a legal obstacle."

Harry's expression darkened. "He didn't just want me gone. He wanted it done quietly. No scandal, no investigation. Just… dead and buried."

Nova nodded. "If you'd died before your seventeen birthday, your claim to the Black Lordship would've lapsed. The title would default to the next eligible bloodline heir — in this case, Draco."

Hermione sat up straighter, the lines between her brows deepening. "So it wasn't about targeting us. It was about timing. Killing Harry before the claim could be legally recognized."

"And with it," Nova added, "Lucius would've secured control over both the Malfoy and Black fortunes. Political clout, ancestral magic, pureblood influence… all under one roof."

Mrs. Granger, still trying to process everything, looked between them with wide eyes. "But… how could someone like Lucius do all that without the Ministry stepping in?"

Nova's tone was dry. "You'd be surprised how easily things get buried when gold crosses the right palms. And it wouldn't be the first time Lucius or rich purebloods manipulated records or leaned on corrupted officials."

John Granger's voice was tight. "He would've killed all of us. Just to stop Harry from wearing that ring."

Nova gave a grim nod. "He didn't care who got caught in the crossfire. You were collateral damage — unfortunate witnesses. Loose ends."

Silence followed, heavy and tense.

Then Hermione said quietly, "But he failed."

Harry looked down at the rings on his fingers, the gleaming Black crest pulsing faintly with quiet magic. "Yeah. He did."

Hermione spoke up, her tone sharp with realization. "The Black seat is still empty in the Wizengamot. If Harry steps into it… Lucius loses everything he gambled for."

Harry looked up, resolve hardening in his eyes. "Then I'll take the seat. Let's see how he likes playing against someone who doesn't flinch."

Nova shook his head, the smirk fading from his face. "Unfortunately, that's still a long way off. You're what — fourteen? According to the old laws, you need to be seventeen to officially claim a Lordship. That's non-negotiable. Until then, you're just the heir apparent, not the acting Lord."

Harry's jaw clenched. "So I just sit and wait? Let Malfoy keep trying to kill me for the next three years?"

Nova folded his arms, voice calm but firm. "That's exactly what he's counting on. You're a threat, but not a legal one — not yet. So he's trying to remove you before the title locks in."

Hermione frowned deeply. "There's no exception? Not even under magical emergency?"

Nova shook his head again. "None. Not unless the sitting Lord abdicates early, or dies and names a successor who's already of age. In your case, the last Lord died without leaving any formal declaration, so the title passes to you by bloodline, but only once you're of age. The laws are ancient, carved into the very foundation of magical nobility. No amount of politics or war can bend them."

Silence fell around the room again, heavy and unsettling.

John Granger glanced at his daughter, then at Harry. His expression shifted — thoughtful at first, then steely with resolve. Finally, he turned to Nova.

"The problem is Lucius Malfoy, right?"

Nova raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden shift in John's tone. "That's the name at the center of this mess, yes."

John leaned forward slightly, his voice low and deliberate. "Then what if... he dies? No more Malfoy. No more attacks, right?"

Hermione gasped. "Dad!"

Harry stared, unsure if he'd misheard.

Nova tilted his head, regarding John Granger with new eyes — not as a dentist or a Muggle father, but as a man who had just stared down death and come out the other side with clarity.

"You're not wrong," Nova said after a beat. "Cut off the head, and the body falls. Without Lucius, the political machinery behind the attacks would collapse. Draco's a puppet at best. Narcissa? Smart, but not the type to risk direct war. Lucius is the strategist."

Hermione looked torn between horror and understanding. "But that's... that's murder."

Mrs Granger met her gaze calmly. "What would you call sending seven werewolves after two children in the dead of night?"

No one answered.

Harry swallowed hard. "Even if we agreed to it… it's not that easy. He's got protection, money, ministry influence. He'll see us coming a mile away."

John looked at Nova. "Not if it's done properly."

Nova didn't speak for a long moment. His expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes — something cold, calculating, and dangerous.

He hadn't expected that the chat would go in this direction. But dead Malfoy? Huh.... That would be beneficial for him, of he played his cards right....

"I don't take contracts," he said finally, his voice calm. "But I do know someone who does."

John nodded, eyes steady. "Can you arrange a meeting?"

Nova shook his head. "No need. Just draft the contract. I'll deliver it — along with the payment."

John considered that for a moment, then asked, "How much would it cost… to kill a man like Lucius Malfoy? From what I have understood from your talks, he's well-protected, highly connected, and dangerous."

Nova didn't hesitate. "He is. Which means it won't come cheap. For someone of his profile, the job will run anywhere between fifty to a hundred thousand galleons — depending on the conditions and the timeline."

Before John could reply, Harry spoke up, his voice quiet but firm. "I'll pay for it. It's my fault he attacked in the first place. I won't let your family suffer because of me."

Hermione whipped around to face him. "Are you all serious? We're talking about murder!"

Mrs. Granger placed a calming hand on her daughter's arm, her own expression grave. Hermione looked between them all, then sighed in frustration and slumped slightly.

"…Not that I'm completely against it," she muttered, crossing her arms. "But still."

Harry gave her a tired smile. "We don't have the luxury of idealism, Hermione. Not anymore."

Nova gave a dry chuckle. "Welcome to the real magical world — where bloodlines, power, and gold decide who lives and who dies."

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