Everyone has gathered around the cradle of the newborn male heir. Aunt Walpurga is beaming with happiness. She wears the pearl necklace of the Lady of the Noble and Ancient House of Black. Uncle Orion passes cigars to every adult male relative and drinks to the health of his son, repeatedly. The ugly old elf who looks perhaps even more happy than his mistress and master exchanges every other glass with a sobering potion as his mistress has ordered him before the christening.
Uncle Alphard, the godfather tries to beat his cousin in toasts to the heir of the House of Black. The elf has not been ordered to exchange his glasses.
Old batty witches make remarks about every single feature of the baby, rejoice at his movements and stupid squeaks and give advice to the mother.
Six year old Andy pleads to be allowed to hold her little cousin. The younger Cissy states that he has a pug nose and no hair at all and everyone laughs and assures her that that will change in time.
Nobody pays attention to the black-haired girl in the corner who stares balefully at the cheerful crowd. She was supposed to be Aunt Walpurga's favourite. She always has been, eldest of the sisters, heiress to all the family fortune and name. The Black pearls had been promised to her, since she was old enough to want them. She remembers that Aunt Walpurga had put them around her tiny neck on her sixth birthday.
"They'll be yours when I die. You're the child I never had."
She has a child now and all promises seem to be forgotten. A boy, pfft! Boys are stupid and that one is even to small to do anything by himself. Perhaps he is a Squib, she thinks hopefully. She could do magic for years, even at will. Everybody had been so proud, when they found out. The cradle starts rocking, fast and faster. The baby squeaks, but not with fear as she has hoped but with joy.
Nine year old Bellatrix Black knows she hates the brat and always will.