Bellatrix was fighting to suppress a smirk; Harry could just see it briefly flitting across her face. "I see. Well, lucky for you, those guys are idiots. No brains and think they're the cream of the world."
"Crabbe and Goyle," Harry muttered under his breath with a slight chuckle as he remembered Draco's two brainless henchmen.
Bellatrix's eyebrow arched sharply. "How'd you know?"
"What?"
She nodded over to where the three were now huddled with a group of other wizards and witches their age. "That they're the Crabbes and Goyle."
Harry cursed himself silently for having actually voiced his thoughts - he hadn't thought she would have picked it up, but apparently, her ears were very good. "Lucky guess," he muttered.
"Oh no, I'm not buying that."
"Fine, I talked to an auror after they arrived. He told me a few things about what's going on." It wasn't a complete lie.
Bellatrix eyed him suspiciously, and he got the distinct feeling that she didn't really believe him. She seemed willing to let it slide for now. When more young people arrived and began taking up seats around the table she spoke again. "Come with me." She rose from the table and led him to the far corner of the room, well out of earshot of most people.
"What?" Harry asked when they stopped, figuring that she wanted to talk without the risk of being overheard.
"My mum thinks that Uncle Orion is going to die soon, and she's hoping we'll inherit something. I don't think we'll get as much as a mention in his will, though. Aunt Walburga is going to be around for years, and she isn't going to let anything come our way." She glanced at him sharply, violet eyes piercing into his green ones. "Based on your knowledge of the future, would you agree with that assessment?"
Harry groaned as he realized what she was doing. She wanted to prod him for more information. He glanced over at the Black patriarch. "He looks rather healthy to me. I don't think he's going to die anytime soon." Unless he gets assassinated, he amended silently.
"There's always a chance that something happens to him," Bellatrix commented, seemingly off-handedly, but he could tell she fully understood the meaning of her words.
Harry stared back neutrally. "Whatever happened to pureblood loyalty?"
Bellatrix met his stare for a moment before shrugging. "All hypotheses aside, would you agree that if he died, that is what would happen?"
"Based solely on the knowledge of your family, you'd probably be right." Harry agreed carefully. He wasn't entirely sure about the history of the Black family, but judging by the fact that Orion Black seemed to be a very healthy, very powerful - if aging - man, and that there were wizards who were far older than he, he figured that something must have happened to him in the years to come.
"Damn it," Bellatrix muttered angrily. "What's the use of being a part one of the oldest, most prominent, pureblood families if you don't even get to be rich?"
Harry shrugged, suppressing a mental smirk. It seemed that Bellatrix wasn't so different from the other young purebloods, after all. Money and power still were at the top of her priorities, which meant she could be manipulated. She was just being a little more intelligent about choosing which battles to fight. That, at least, gave him some sort of ease as he figured he could probably safely judge the way her loyalties would shift in the future, and when he would have to start watching his back. "I never saw any particular advantage to being rich, myself," he commented absently.
"How ironic," she sighed, absently turning her attention to the other guests in the room. "You don't care about ancient and noble names, money, or power, yet you become the heir to the entire Black fortune while my sisters and I get married off to the highest bidder - probably chosen by my overbearing aunt."
All Harry could do was shrug again. She was right - at least as far as she and Narcissa were concerned. Andromeda had gotten away, but it had gotten her disowned, not that that had been a bad thing, considering how the rest of her family had ended up.
Bellatrix observed him carefully, looking for any sign of a confirmation. "Well? Am I right? Did I get married to some rich bastard to breed his useless children and become his trophy wife?"
"I think it'd be better for everyone if I just kept my mouth shut about the future," he told her quietly, though he had to fight down the urge to grin like a maniac. Though Bellatrix had never had any children, her sister Narcissa had certainly given birth to a useless child. And the thought of Bellatrix being a "trophy wife" of any sort was a chilling contrast to what she had actually become. One could only hope, he thought to himself. The world might have been a much better place, and the war with Voldemort a lot easier, if she had been a trophy wife and nothing more.
"I don't think so," Bellatrix disagreed. "You have no desire to return to the future - that tells me one thing: you don't like whatever happens there, and you're planning to make changes. I don't know what you're planning to change, but if it's got anything to do with me, I'm entitled to know about it!"
"What I intend to do is none of your business." Harry replied evenly. He'd tried the nice approach, and went for bluntness now.
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