“Everything’s going so well!” Luna said with a little clap.
“Yeah,” Harry replied, frowning. “I’m not sure I trust it.”
“Oh, come on,” Luna pouted. “Don’t be all grumpy pants.”
“You two did get your animagus forms restricted,” Ginny helpfully pointed out. “that’s bad enough, isn’t it?”
“That’s hardly the point,” Harry replied drolly.
The three were casually chilling up in the rafters of Wizengamot hall, watching the lords and ladies of the Magical Britain mill around beneath them and occasionally point upwards. No one had objected when Ginny pulled out her shrunk broom and no one cared when she ferried Harry and Luna up to one of the larger roof beams.
Well, no one except Lord Potter who’d had an apparent one-sided argument with Dumbledore before stomping off in a huff.
Lily had also been moderately distressed to see him all the way up here, but she’d evidently been too concerned about finding John, wherever he’d run off to, to make much of deal over it.
Arthur Weasley had pretty much just shrugged and Lord Xenophilus hadn’t even batted an eye.
“Maybe you can think about the bad things that might happen next, instead of the bad things that might have happened before?” Ginny said, kicking her feet.
Harry gave her a look. “That was almost a Luna thing to say.”
“Thanks!” chirped Luna. “I am trying. Though, if I’d really corrupted her, she’d have added some kind of innuendo as well.”
Harry chuckled. “Speaking of, where’s Alex? I didn’t see her at the last hearing and she’s not in the trunk.”
Luna stared at him for a moment before they comically widened. “Ginny!” she called out, flinging out a hand.
Ginny tossed the shrinkable Nimbus 2001 to her and seconds later Luna had shot off across the hall.
“It’s nice to see how much she cares,” Harry said with a smile, summoning back the broomstick once Luna had touched down.
“You’re not worried?” Ginny asked.
“About Alex? The daughter of the Chief Auror in the middle of the wizarding legislator who can phase through walls with her animagus form? She’ll be fine. If I didn’t trust you girls that much I wouldn’t have brought you with me.”
Ginny snorted. “That makes sense. Especially now that Luna is on the case.”
“Exactly. And if Alex were really in trouble, she could always send an SOS.”
“Right,” Ginny said, fingering her own morse code ring — the one Harry had given her way back when — the ring she’d used to SOS Harry herself when her parents had freaked out when John ratted her out. It was good that seemed behind them now. Her mum was still being her mum, of course, but watching Ginny dodging several invisible rogue bludgers for her life must have put things into perspective. That or her dad had simply put his foot down. It just sucked Bill was still being such an utter jerk about the whole thing.
“Should we really be riling up your dad like this though?” Ginny asked, as Lord Potter once more stormed into the room, stared up at them in the rafters as though just to confirm they were still there before stomping off again. “Won’t that make it harder to get… you know… the signature.”
“As if you ever had a problem riling him up.”
“I just told him I wouldn’t betray you!”
“Yep.” Harry chuckled again. “That’d rile him up, no doubt.” His look turned more serious. “But no, this is fine. We’re making him look weak. So much of Lord Potter’s power depends on his influence and whether he realises it or not, we’re slowly chipping that influence away. The further we push him the more likely we’ll have some opportunity to bargain for something he can’t ignore. It might take years, but we’ll make it happen. The worst scenario is if he contracts me off to someone else. Or somehow your parents are forced to contract you off to someone else. I can handle the first scenario easily.”
“And the second?” Ginny asked with bated breath.
Harry smiled a smile without humour. “Has anyone ever told you the story of Jezebel Black?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve realised by now that the Blacks can be a pretty extreme bunch. Every generation seems to have at least one messed-up tale. Or twelve. The thing with Jezebel started when—" Harry hesitated as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. “Look sharp,” he hissed. “Incoming.”
“I see it,” Ginny said under her breath as a furry flying mouse with fangs flapped its way towards them.
Moments later, the bat had landed beside Harry and transformed.
“Lord Genesis,” Harry said, his voice suddenly chipper and cheerful. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
Ginny stared wide-eyed at Britain’s only Vampire Lord smiling toothily back at Harry. She racked her brain on what she knew of the ‘man’ in massive inverted commas, but could only remember that he was allied with the Dark.
“I am just curious to meet the young man who has so riled up this dull little island,” the vampire replied. “I regretted not meeting you at Slytherin’s gala and since then that regret has only grown. A legendary Chimaera animagus form? Defeating a one-thousand-year-old basilisk? Your performance at the Hogwarts duelling tournament last year? What is your secret, little wizard?”
Harry chuckled. “No secret, Lord Genesis. Just talent, good luck, hard work, and a sprinkling of Albion family advantage.”
The vampire gave him an amused look that made it clear he didn’t believe Harry for a moment. “Maybe I’d have more luck asking your master,” he mused. “I’m sure Slytherin would be willing to share in exchange for political support.”
Harry gave him a half-lidded look. “I find it hard to believe you’d jump ship from the faction you’ve supported for over three hundred years just to learn more about a second-year Hogwarts student.”
“Except you’re not a Hogwarts student anymore, are you? You’re a run-away. Even if your mentor is covering for you, you’re still not going to school.”
“I am actually,” Harry corrected. “I returned to the castle when The Department of Family Affairs confirmed they weren’t actively hunting me down.”
“Mmmm,” Lord Gensis said. “Very responsible. But it does make me wonder. Exactly what responsibilities does your master believe he holds? The third reading for the Muggle Protection Act is about to start and many of the new amendments are… odd. Help an old vampire out, Heir Potter?”
Ginny could see Harry hesitate. To anyone else it looked like he was merely thinking about it, but Ginny knew well enough to know otherwise.
That’s when two external events happened in quick succession. The first was that both Harry and Ginny spotted Luna waving them down across the hall. She had Alex with them and it looked like something had happened. The second was Daphne soaring across the Cathedral-like space to alight first on Harry’s wrist in her Golden Eagle form, and then on the beam next to Ginny as the poised young witch she usually was.
“Perfect timing,” Harry declared. “Lord Genesis, it looks like I have something I must attend to, but Daphne here can help you, if you’d accept.”
“Of course,” Lord Gensis said, graciously. “You go help your friends. A Black and a Lovegood should not be kept waiting.”
Harry nodded, hopped onto the back of the Broomstick that Ginny had unshrunk again and mounted the moment it looked like they’d be descending again. He accepted a folded-up piece of parchment that Daphne handed him with an accepting nod, and held on tight as Ginny steered them down, leaving Daphne to talk the Vampire lord over to their side to the best of her abilities. Which, considering this was Daphne, were fairly good.
Landing near the door to one of the many corridors of the Wizengamot, Harry hopped off the broom just as Luna marched up. Alex, to Harry’s surprise, wasn’t looking her usual massively confident self.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Luna pouted. “Alex just had story time with Lady Malfoy.”
“Jezebel?”
“No, not that story.”
— DPaSW: TGS —
Before…
Alexandra Patricia Black stepped into the well-appointed room used by the Dark as their faction HQ in the Wizengamot with confidence and swagger. She had just won a duelling tournament all by herself and completed an animagus ritual that allowed her to phase through walls. Plus, she had Lord Freak’n Slytherin on speed dial. True, what she was doing wasn’t without risk, but Alex didn’t care. This was an opportunity to learn more about the Ancient and Noble House of Black from an angle that wasn’t her Grandfather’s portrait.
Narcissa Malfoy swept forward and offered her a drink from the drinks cabinet, which Alex politely declined, as Slytherin had taught her.
This earned her an approving nod from the older witch, causing Alex to preen. She wasn’t naïve. Oh, no. Not her.
“A careless drink of wine from a known enemy has been the downfall of many a powerful wizard,” Narcissa seemed to quote, taking a sip herself. “I’m glad to see my cousin has at least taught you that much.”
Alex frowned. She wanted to correct her Aunt—that it was her grandfather and Lord Slytherin, not her dad who’d taught her—but something else about that statement felt more important. “Are you my enemy?” Alex asked directly.
Narcissa smiled. “You should assume so, Alexandra. Your father is chief auror and a prominent member of the Light. I am the wife of the leader of the Dark. It stands to reason that we would be enemies. Your father hasn’t allowed me to meet you or help raise you, no matter how many owls I sent him over the years. He is afraid I will corrupt you.”
“I know all that,” Alex replied. “Dad wants me to be like him. He wants nothing to do with the old ways. I am not like him.”
“I can see that,” Narcissa said, looking thoughtful. “The way you manoeuvred my son and his friends into your trap at the Slytherin Gala was a masterpiece.”
Alex looked smug.
“Though, I do have to ask. How much of that was really Slytherin’s doing?”
Alex frowned. “It was a team effort. How much Slytherin did isn’t important.”
Narcissa stared at Alex for a moment before shaking her head.
“What?” Alex asked, now sounding defensive. “It was.”
Narcissa took another sip of wine. “Alexandra, you are now the leader of my son while at Hogwarts. It is important to me that you are a capable leader in your own right. How much of your leadership is really you? And how much is just Lord Slytherin pulling your strings?”
Alex glared but said nothing.
Lady Narcissa pursed her lips. “You cannot trust anyone in this world, Alex. Everyone is using everyone else. If I had raised you, you would understand that. It’s a shame you never reached out.”
“I sent you owls, too. I wanted to go to Draco’s birthday parties.”
Narcissa nodded thoughtfully. “It seems Sirius is more Black than I gave him credit for.”
“What?!”
“That kind of control is quite normal for a parent of our house. Power runs through our blood. Restriction. Manipulation. Even if he’s trying to flee what he is, your father can not outrun over a thousand years of magical tradition. Magical tradition is NOT the same as mere tradition. Your actions have consequences. Even for the children of your children’s children who you may never meet.”
Alex took an unconscious step forward. “What traditions?” Though she didn’t realise it, the eagerness in her eyes would be apparent to anyone who saw them.
“I saw you mastered the Black Chains. That’s one example — a spell designed to lock an opponent down and bring them fully under your control.”
“What else?”
“Two of the three unforgivable. Both the imperious curse and the cruciatus curse have a long history in our house. We discovered them, in fact.”
“We did?”
“We did.”
Alex felt a rush of emotions surge through her. Half the exhilaration of learning knew things about her family, half disgust. She remembered when Lord Slytherin had offered to imperious her to cast the fidelius charm on the Black library and the utter ‘DO NOT WANT’ the proposal had generated in her. And even when Harry had revealed his true power as Lord Slytherin to her, he’d used Fiendfire to do it. The curciatus curse had not featured in that duel, nor any duel or lesson since, and with good reason.
Though something about the story didn’t quite add up. “If we invented those curses, why aren’t they Black family magic?” Alex asked.
Narcissa gave Alex a little smile. “Why do you think?”
Alex hesitated, then thought about it. “Because our ancestors couldn’t help themselves from publicly using either spell before three generations had passed,” she guessed.
Narcissa’s smile widened. “Very good.”
Alex looked smug again.
Narcissa regarded Alex thoughtfully. “So, you’re interested in our family’s history and traditions. I can teach you some, if you care for it.”
Alex almost couldn’t stop herself from blurting out an affirmative. Instead, she schooled her features and nodded. “I would like that.”
“But,” Narcissa held up a finger. “I have to be sure you’re ready. You are still young.”
Alex scoffed. “Whatever test you have, I am ready for it.”
“Very well. Then let me tell you the story of how my sisters and I found our husbands. Ready?”
Alex nodded.
Narcissa took another sip of her wine. “The Black family has always had specific ideas on who its daughters should marry. But at the same time, we’ve prided ourselves on being strong leaders as both wizards and witches. How does one reconcile the need for control that the Black blood instils within us with the obedience to a husband that makes a good wife?”
Alex frowned.
— DPaSW: TGS —
Seven-year-old Narcissa Black, affectionally known as ‘Cissy’, drew the bow of her violin along its strings and frowned at the slightly off-note it produced. Not quite right. Getting the right sound was important. If the sound wasn’t right, Mother would be disappointed in her. She made an adjustment to the instrument and was just about to try again when the door to the playroom creaked open and Andromeda stuck her head inside.
“Hey, Cissy! Father wants us downstairs.”
“Why?” Narcissa asked, jumping to her feet and patting down her skirt. If Father wanted them, it had to be important. Had she done anything bad? No, then he would have just called for her. Unless they’d all done something bad!
“Don’t know,” Andy said. “Come on.”
Arriving in the kitchen, the three sisters were lined up in front of their sitting father, Cygnus Black. Behind him, stood their mother, Druella Black, looking strong and imperious.
“Bellatrix is about to leave for Hogwarts,” Cygnus announced without preamble. “She will be the first, but all of you will follow. It is critically important that each of you represent the Black family with the dignity and strength expected of our Ancient and Noble House.”
Cissy nodded. She knew this. Her big sister would talk of nothing else forever. But this couldn’t be all their father had to say.
“Each of you has received the best education magic can grant anywhere in the world. You are the flowers of England. And though you are now still buds, one day you will all bloom.”
Cissy beamed. She was still a little hazy on the details of what being a flower meant, apart from ‘looking pretty’, but praise always felt good.
“But the best education is not enough. Not for a Black. It is not good enough to know our ways through paper and parchment. One must have felt them for themselves.”
Cissy frowned. What did he mean?
All three sisters fidgeted nervously when their father drew his wand.
Cygnus pointed the wand at Bellatrix. “Cruciatus.”
— DPaSW: TGS —
“He used the Cruciatus curse on you?!” Alex practically squeaked.`
Narcissa nodded. “I don’t hold it against him. After that, nothing we encountered at Hogwarts felt even a fraction as bad. Even if it was the most traumatic thing I’d experienced in my young life.”
“Wow.” Alex said, trying not to think too hard about the fact that, not too long ago, she’d tried using that very curse on Harry. She hesitated. “But what does this have to do with betrothals?”
Narcissa smiled.
— DPaSW: TGS —
Young Narcissa Black wailed into her big sisters’ trembling arms, interspersed with sucking in great heaving gulps of air whenever she could. All three were a wrecked mess, lying crumpled in the middle of the kitchen floor. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t do anything except desperately try to breathe while her entire body insisted every nerve in her body was still on fire.
Their father and mother had already left the kitchen leaving the three girls alone to ‘deal with it’.
They’d only been put under the curse for a fraction of a moment, but even that was more than Narcissa ever wanted to experience ever again. EVER.
“L-l-let’s make a promise,” Bella eventually stuttered out, after what felt like an eternity later. “To never use that spell on anyone. It’s h-h-horrible.”
“Y-yes,” Andy agreed. “Never. Never.”
Narcissa could only whimper as the other two sisters dragged their hands into a triangle between them. “I swear,” she gasped out. “Never.”
— DPaSW: TGS —
“Not an unbreakable vow?” Alex asked with wide eyes.
“No, not an unbreakable vow,” Narcissa confirmed. “We were young, but not stupid. Well, not that stupid.”