Hi everyone. Sorry that I was MIA for about a month or so. Things have been rather hectic lately and believe it or not I actually had a writers block for awhile. But now I'm back with a story for ya'll.
This will obviously take place in the summer between Year 1 and Year 2. Welcome back readers and I hope you continue following the story.
New readers, if you haven't checked out The Proud and Noble Black I would suggest doing that otherwise this ficlet won't make much sense.
Without further ado, onwards with the story!
Chapter 1 - The Room
June 24th, 1992 - 7 Days before Meissa's 12th birthday
Location: Nigri Sanctuarium
Meissa is stunned speechless by what she is seeing. The room stretched the entire length of the third floor - which is considerably large since the manor was large enough to play host to the Weasley family and their extended family. The ceiling seemed tall to the soon to be twelve years old girl, large enough to fit a full-grown mountain troll. The purpose of the room is readily apparent to her with one side of the room covered with various weapons of the medieval sort. Swords of varying length and sizes decorated the wall along with maces, spears, bladed spears she has no name for, and so on.
In the apparent center of the room was a large circle, large enough for a duel to be held comfortably within, drawn in with white paint. Stepping up to the circle she carefully toes the line, coming to the conclusion that its dormant for the time being. Reassured that she wouldn't be zapped if she crosses the line she returns to her exploration.
Opposite to the wall of weapons bookshelves lined the entire length of the room, each shelf burdened with books, thick and thin. Out of curiosity she took a closer look at the books and found that they dealt with many different topics. It doesn't take her long to realize that the books are organized into different categories. One entire bookshelf had tomes on healing, from the easiest healing spell to the most complicated ones - including ones that need some kind of elaborate ritual. Peeking into the tomes told her as much with the long list of ingredients. Another shelf had books on the various branches of combat magic - these she plans on looking at in depth when she gets the chance. She has no doubt that most of the magic in those texts will be banned or considered Dark Arts by the Ministry.
But her policy about the intent of magic is still strong so she has every intention of learning the different branches of magic for the sole purpose of learning self-defense. Some magic she knows will be too corrupting for her to even consider - those she will study up on but will refrain from actually practicing.
She was literally about to pull off a tome from the shelf when she hears a sound that prompts her to pause for a moment. A look around does not reveal to her the immediate cause so she turns away from the bookshelves, frowning to herself as she tries to figure out what made it in the first place. The door was still shut and she can see that there is no one else in the room with her. Unsure of what could've made the noise she turns towards the last wall she has yet to look at.
She can see that it is lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves, yet its shelves are not burdened with heavy tomes. Curious she walks over to the shelves, noticing that there is a table with a large half sphere object resting in the exact center. When she finally got close enough she could see that it is a metal basin set on a stone base to keep it from sliding freely on the table. White wisps rose from the basin and a small part of her cautioned from going any nearer to the table until she understands what she's looking at.
Meissa tilts her head to the side, squinting as she takes note of the markings on the basin. It takes her a moment to realize that the markings are runes but she cannot get a good look at them to determine what their purpose is. She's curious about the basin and its' contents but a lifetime of being around her godfather and his various potion experiments has taught her to be wary of unknown things. So she walks around the table and goes to the shelves, finding that instead of books the shelves are decorated with potion bottles of varying sizes and shapes. Each one is labeled with a date. The one thing each bottle has in common was a name.
Bellatrix Black
Each one has her mother's name, written in a style that seems far cleaner compared to her own. The room was vast and the shelves spanned the entire width of the wall opposite of the doors, tightly pressed together to the point she cannot see the wallpaper behind them.
"Bellatrix Black…" she mutters softly, looking at the bottle in front of her, filled with the same white wisps she saw in the basin.
She cannot fathom why there are rows of bottles with her mother's name and a date. Meissa turns away from the shelves and noticed for the first time that there is a bottle sitting on the table. Curious she picks it up and saw that is empty with only a label on the glass body reading: Bellatrix Black, February 20, 1981.
Puzzled as to importance of the date on the bottle she sets it back on the table. With a frown, she lifts up the family wand in her hand and pokes the silvery-white wisps with the tip, noting that they are neither gas or liquid. She notes that the surface of the stuff began to swirl about faster as if excited or eager. Yet somehow they stayed close to the basin as they danced in the air. Within she can see the mesmerizing dance within the basin until she decides that it must be safe enough.
She prods the surface once more and, as the fast swirling began once more, sees that the silvery-white wisps has become transparent - it was like looking through a glass window. Curious she leans in and sees a woman with long black unruly yet shiny hair, heavy-lidded eyes with long eyelashes, thin lips, and is wearing a black dress that falls down to her ankles and a black leather corset cinched tight around her chest.
Meissa is so distracted by what she is seeing she does not realize that she has lean in so far that her nose was close to touching the surface. Until, with an upsetting lurch, she finds herself thrown forward and falling into the basin. Startled she barely has time to think that she has messed up when she finds herself standing once more except she's no longer in the room on the third floor in Nigri Sanctuarium.
The woman is there, in front of her, so she walks to her - intending to ask her about where they are.
"Where-," she starts to say when she hears a baby's coo.
Not expecting to hear a baby she stops and takes in her surroundings. Realizing that she is in a nursery room. In the middle of the room is a baby's crib with dragons, broomsticks, and fairy figurines dancing about in small lazy circles above it. The walls are decorated with a forest scenery and the longer she stares the more she sees a magical creature lurking in the details of the forest.
The woman, she finally recognizes her as the woman from the portrait, bends over the railing of the crib. Her hand disappearing out of Meissa's view until she steps closer to the crib. Peering over the railing she sees a baby, at least seven months old, with a headful of dark brown hair and dark brown eyes.
"Hello dearie," the woman - in the same voice she hears from the portrait - greets the small baby, her fingers stroking the child's cheek. The baby, 'dearie', coos again and their limbs flails. Meissa watches this in awe as the woman gently catches the baby's hand, their tiny fingers instantly curling around a pinky. She sees a sad smile on the woman's face and finds herself wondering why.
She peers at the woman's face, trying to understand why she seems so sad. The woman's black eyes seem to glitter as she stares at the baby laying in the crib. "Who are you," Meissa mutters softly, leaning in closer out of curiosity. The Black heiress doesn't see anything that can help her identify the baby but the longer she stares the more she has a sense of familiarity. She feels like she should know who this baby is.
"She is you," she suddenly hears and it quickly reminds her that she is in an unknown situation. Whirling around she brings Morgen's wand up but finds no one there. Only the woman, who is still playing with the baby, and the baby in question.
"Where am I…"
"You are in a memory."
She looks around but sees that no one is there and it doesn't seem like the woman is the source of the voice - even if it does sound like her voice.
"How am I in a memory?"
"The memory is currently contained in a Pensieve. Once inside the Pensieve you are able to view the memory in question as if you were there."
Realization quickly dawns on her and she turns around in a full circle before she takes a look up towards the ceiling only to find it to be a reflection of the outside. "Oh," she mutters to herself. "So this is what it's like to be in one."
She shakes her head and looks back at the scene of the woman and the baby. She remembers, while looking at the baby, that the voice says she is the baby. "Who is she?" she asks, peering at the woman.
The voice doesn't answer this time but instead she sees the woman reach into the crib and lift the baby out and into her own arms. "Dearie," the woman whispers, stroking the reddish brown hair, "I will always love you."
She frowns as she watches the woman and how she cradles baby Meissa to her. Meissa couldn't accept that this baby is her. As she looks on the baby starts to fuss and the woman just starts to rock her, humming softly.
"Hush, little baby, don't say a word," the woman starts to sing, the tenor of her voice ringing in her mind. "Mumma's gonna buy you a phoenix bird. And if that phoenix bird won't sing Mumma's gonna buy you a serpent ring." The baby stops fussing and just like the older Meissa, starts to listen attentively. "And if that serpent ring turns brass Mumma's gonna buy you a two way looking glass. And if that two way looking glass gets broke Mumma's buy you a invisibility cloak. And if that invisibility cloak isn't impressive Mumma's gonna buy you a shiny new Pensieve."
Meissa feels as if her head was bouncing the words around, knocking loose memories of this lullaby being sung to her. Her lips forming the next words in time with the woman. "And if that Pensieve doesn't show you what you want, Mumma's gonna buy you your very own wand," she whispers along.
"And if that little wand doesn't spark," they sang together. "Mumma's gonna buy you a thestral and cart. And if that thestral and cart fall down, you'll still be the sweetest little lady in town."
Meissa felt stunned. She didn't know where that memory of the song came from but now, it feels as if she has known the song her entire life. So absorbed with the revelation of somehow knowing this song her entire life she had not noticed the woman returning the baby to her crib. The next time she is aware of her surroundings she finds herself no longer in the unfamiliar room with the crib in the center but in the room on the third floor. This time the woman is staring directly at her.
"Meissa," the woman starts in a tone that commanded her full attention. "If you're watching this… well… it means something has happened to me." Meissa frowns at the woman, trying to understand what is happening. "It is currently 1980. It has been seven months since your birth and… you are the best thing that has ever happened to me." Realization dawns as she stands there, staring at the raven haired woman's features. Seeing for the first time that she truly does look like her mother. "We have been at war since 1970… I'm sorry, dearie. If you're watching this then it's likely you are living in a world where my deeds in the war reflects on you."
Meissa crosses her arms, unwilling to dwell on the memories of wizards and witches talking horribly of her mother.
She was seven
A witch was badmouthing her mother.
Her insides hurt. Froze. Then she felt red hot.
Pops.
Crashes.
Screams.
A bloody finger pointed at her.
You're just like her. A monster.
"I don't know how long it has been since you last saw me," the woman - her mother - continues, drawing her out of her thoughts. "Hopefully we've had a long time together. But in case you didn't… In case I was taken away from you too early… The shelves contain copies of my memories. Things I hoped to one day teach you."
She thinks about the shelves, of the bottles she has seen on them and realizes what they are for. Meissa presses her hand to her mouth, a ragged breath tearing through her as she sees a different side of her mother.
She cares.
"Mumma…" she whispers hoarsely as she drops to her knees, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
~MJB~
So... that just happened. Stay tune for the next chapter. Which may come out in two weeks. Depends on if I finish chapter five in that time.