Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Gordons. Rowling owns everything else, which would explain why she's so bloody rich, and I'm as poor as a church mouse.
Chaper 1: Blackmoor Manor
This is a story that happens during the year prior to Voldemort's final downfall, when Harry Potter dropped out of his seventh year to pursue Horcruxes, when the Death Eaters had taken over the ministry and many Muggle-borns were forced into hiding. The story revolves mainly around a pure-blooded family, the Gordons, and the part a perfectly ordinary group of people have to play in these less than ordinary times.
Since time out of mind, the Gordons had been the proud owners of Blackmoor Manor. Nobody could quite remember where the name came from, or whether the village had gotten its name from the Gordon dwelling, or vice-versa. Blackmoor Manor stood on top of a hill in Ballyshannon, overlooking the tiny village of Blackmoor, one of the last true wizarding settlements in Ireland. Muggles who passed through the town rarely remembered much of it after they left, which was a good thing because if they did, the village would have turned into a tourist attraction within days. The town itself lay on the coast, and had once even been dubbed "The Rainiest Town in Ireland", which was indeed saying something.
Blackmoor Manor had been built during the Middle Ages, and it was till then that the Gordons traced their family roots, all the way back to Lemuel Gordon, who himself was not a native of Ireland, but had built the Manor to get away from the Normans. The manor boasted undeground catacombs that held the remains of the ancient wizards that had passed in its halls, and spread many miles under the manor, and even rumours of a passage straight into a certain graveyard. This rumour had never been confirmed by the manor's residents, mostly because of an unfortunate event that left half the catacombs flooded. But every Gordon generation had tried to find this passage, usually dreaming of the endless possibilities of an outside tunnel, and usually these gave up around the time the letter from Hogwarts came, and the Gordon in question left home for school.
Every Gordon child since the Middle Ages had attended Hogwarts. Either the family never produced Squibs, or they were blotted out, which was a common practice for pure-blooded families in the old days.
It is believed, and confirmed by the portrait of Lemuel Gordon which had hung over the fireplace in the manor's entrance hall from the very beginning, that no Muggle has ever been inside the walls of Blackmoor Manor.
Today the Gordons' numbers had dwindled, mainly due to a habit of marrying late in life, or not marrying at all. Conor Gordon had been put to rest in the winter of 95, and his son, Sean Gordon, followed Gordon tradition by marrying a pureblood. The Gordons had two children: A daughter, Marion, and a son, William.
My story opens on a rainy summer day, on a typical Monday afternoon. Sean Gordon would usually spend the day out in the garden, wearing a large yellow raincoat carrying an impervious charm, and hexing the stubborn weeds. But not today. Blackmoor manor had once boasted a great number of servants and gardeners, but these days the Gordons did most of the work themselves, with the help of a rather skittish little house elf by the name of Beans. Sean Gordon had followed the family tradition of marrying late and retiring early, but his wife still worked full days at the ministry, so on days like these he would be alone watching the kids... and these ones really needed watching.
Marion and Will were not the most misbehaved children in the world, but they came strikingly close. Gordon children usually ran wild, strutting around Blackmoor Village as if they owned the place, terrorising local fishermen and pulling pranks on the locals. But they were Gordons, and usually they got away with it.
But today both Gordon children were behaving themselves immensely. Both were neatly dressed and standing in the entrance hall. Granted, Marion was sulking and Will was pulling faces at the portraits of all the ancient Gordon Patriarchs, but for them that was their best behaviour.
Even Sean Gordon was not wearing his usual yellow raincoat. He wore black billowing wizard robes and threw his children angry looks.
The small family stood and watched the fireplace under the portrait of Lemuel Gordon, who was glaring at Will and calling him a disgrace to the Gordon name. Then, suddenly, the fire turned green and a large man with blond hair fell out of the fireplace and onto the rug, where he dusted himself nonchalantly and looked around at the three Gordons.
"Good afternoon Mr. Runcorn," Will said on cue, under the stern glare of his father. "Welcome to Blackmoor Manor."
Runcorn gave a grunt and turned to Sean. As soon as he turned, Will pulled a face. Marion, who was four years older, elbowed him in the stomach and he desisted.
"Hello, Albert," Sean said, giving Runcorn a polite smile which didn't extend to his eyes. "I hope your trip was pleasant."
But Runcorn grunted again, possibly meaning that it was indeed unpleasant, or that he lost his ability to speak. Probably the former.
"Well, shall we get right on it?" Sean asked pleasantly. "It's right this way."
And finally, Runcorn did speak.
"Lead the way then, Gordon."
Marion and Will made to follow, but Runcorn shook his head.
"They don't have to come," he said.
"Oh, but they do," said Sean. "I find it important for children to see the inner workings of the our Ministry. It builds character and a social conscience. Why once a year I send them to work with their mother."
"Worst day of the year," Will said under his breath. Marion elbowed him again, but he only added: "For us and the Ministry."
Runcorn shrugged. He didn't seem to like this arrangement, but for some reason didn't feel like arguing. Maybe it had something to do with the piercing glare that Lemuel Gordon gave him.
Sean led the small party down a hallway and into the library. It was probably the largest room in the house, but it still didn't encourage the Gordon kids to read. It would be exaggerating to say that both Marion and Will had read more than three of these books between the two of them. But when you live in a big house with catacombs to explore and sealed off rooms to break into, a library like this doesn't hold your interest for long. All the walls but one were lined with bookshelves. In the center of the room stood a large glass globe, surrounded by a number of strange contraptions and magical equipment. In one corner, there was a table that held a small crystal orb, much like the ones you'd find in Trelawney's classroom. On the wall that wasn't lined with shelves hung a large tapestry, embroidered with the Gordon family crest, a Raven and an hourglass, and the words: "Time ravages everything."
Underneath these words spread the large and intricate family tree of the Gordons.
"When he said he was examining our family tree, I didn't know he meant it literally," said Will with a smirk.
"Don't be stupid Will," Marion whispered back.
Will looked at his dad, and the look on his face confirmed what both and he and Marion were thinking. Sean had brought Runcorn here to show him how old and respected the family was, and how stupid he was to try and find flaws with their tree. It seemed to have worked too, because Runcorn had forgotten all about the inspection, and was staring at the tree in awe.
Sean cleared his throat.
"Shall we sit down then?" he asked.
Marion and Will fell into the comfy chairs at once, and Sean sat opposite to them near the glass globe, leaving Runcorn the seat with the best view of the tapestry. He looked slightly flustered as he pulled out his papers and sat down.
"Well, you know Gordon, this is all protocol. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with your ancestors... Ministry business I'm sure you understand," he said nervously.
Under Marion's stubborn sulk, the tiniest shadow of a smirk emerged.
"Oh, I understand completely," said Gordon, although he knew perfectly well what this was about. The Gordons had been standing on the sidelines too long. The Ministry, or whoever was in charge these days, wanted to know where allegiance lay. In short, they wanted to know what side they were on, theirs, or Dumbledore's. Of course, now with Dumbledore dead, it was hard to tell who was in charge.
Sean Gordon gave nothing away. Neutrality had kept the family alive for centuries. The Gordons had not interfered in the last war, and they weren't about to interfere now.
Runcorn shuffled through his papers, glancing up at the family tree every once in a while.
"Well, everything seems to be in order on your side of the family... but... your wife," he said, not looking up at the tapestry, where Sean Gordon joined Maureen McKinnon with a gold embroidered line.
"They too, are purebloods," said Sean carelessly. "Surely, you have heard of the McKinnons."
He raised and eyebrow at Runcorn. So did Marion and Will.
"Of course I know they are purebloods," said Runcorn irritably. "But I know where the McKinnon's allegiance lies. Muggle lovers and blood traitors!"
Sean cleared his throat, but it was Marion who spoke.
"That is hardly the point," she said hotly. "Are you here to examine our family tree or to dig up indescretions of our ancestors and punish us for them?"
Runcorn stood up at this and put his papers away. He glared at the Gordons in turn.
"I'd be very careful if I were you, Sean Gordon," he said menacingly. "You have managed to ride the fence for years, never pledging allegiance to either side. The time will come when you will have to choose, and you would be wise to choose the right side..." he paused and took a few steps towards the exit. "And teach your brats some manners."