The Element of the Future
Part 1: The Present
June 8th, 2028
Minerva had a headache. Ever since Fred and Dominique Weasley had arranged a fantastic graduation prank involving the Giant Squid doing jumps and tricks, other students, to no avail, had tried to match Fred and Dom. This year three unimaginative students had set up a firework display at their Hogwarts graduation. Now, Minerva required a few moments of peace to recover.
"Thistle." She told the stoic gargoyle outside her office.
"I am not sure you want to go up there," the gargoyle warned, its voice like two rough stones grinding against each other, "Carina is up there, shouting at her Grandfather, sounds like."
"Excuse me?" Minerva did not know what to make of that statement. Very few people knew the password to her office, as Minerva preferred.
"You'll see," the gargoyle grumbled.
Striding up the winding stairs Minerva heard an unfamiliar voice assaulting her ears.
"You lunatic, you egg-hearted raving mad toad! Thinking you could play with my life without care for. . . ."
Minerva stiffened when she saw the shrieking young woman. She had not felt such visceral surprise since Harry Potter had stepped out of his invisibility cloak after being presumed dead at the Battle of Hogwarts, all of thirty years ago.
For right before Minerva was a woman, with such tremendous fury in her eyes that she looked like a young Bellatrix Lestrange, who Minerva had taught and seen die. And if any cruel and twisted witch would somehow come back to life to wreak havoc it was Bellatrix Black Lestrange.
"Petrificus Totalus," Minerva murmured, but the woman, the reincarnated Bellatrix, snapped up a Shield Charm, without a pause in her mad ravings.
". . . the long term effects of a hundred year imprisonment! I should have told Father, or even Arcturus, that you gave me that ring! So they would have understood how psychotic you are." For a short moment Minerva only heard the thundering voices of the portraits as the woman kept screaming, but the sharp words soon found their way back to Minerva. "Or at the very least they would have murdered me and then I would not have been bored out of my mind for a whole century! Sweet Salazar Slytherin I would kill you . . ." she cleanly stepped out of the path of Minerva's Expelliarmus, "but clearly you are as just insane in the grave as out of it! You ripped my life apart. . . ."
"ENOUGH!" Minerva finally shouted, putting all the strength she had collected after teaching for decades into the command. The din quieted except for one all too familiar nasally voice coming from the wall.
"Really, Carina, such yelling is unfit for a lady," Phineas Nigellus Black admonished.
"My voice needs exercise after such a long period of disuse." The woman declared haughtily, her lips pursed. Both the woman and Phineas Nigellus Black had their noses pointed up at precisely the same angle.
Minerva kept her wand trained on the woman, this Carina. Now that Minerva could take a calming breath and gather her thoughts, she realized Carina did not truly look like Bellatrix. Yes, she had the similarly striking pale skin that was so clear and so smooth that if Carina stood perfectly still she might be a polished marble statue. And yes, her hair was dark, but it fell in smooth waves instead of madly twisting into Bellatrix's curls. Carina did have the same disdainful stare that Bellatrix had perfected, which made the unsuspecting stranger feel like an ugly beetle. But Bellatrix's eyes had been the unnerving stormy grey of the sky during a sudden gale. Carina's eyes were grey like seaside mist. Her jaw was as stubbornly defined, but her nose turned up slightly in a way Minerva would almost call endearing.
Most oddly, the more Minerva studied the haughty countenance across from her the more Minerva thought that this person was strangely familiar.
"Who are you? How did you enter my office?" Minerva demanded harshly. Unsettling recognition aside, this woman should not have been able to enter Minerva's office.
"Good afternoon, Headmistress McGonogall." The woman had a pleasing lilt to her voice that reminded Minerva of the high-bred pureblood witches she had attended Hogwarts with. The woman smoothly dipped into a slight curtsy. "I am Carina Vela Black, daughter of Sirius and Hesper Black," and here her formal introduction abruptly ended and Carina glared with frightening menace at the portrait hanging on the wall, "and granddaughter of this imbecilic ponce, Phineas Nigellus Black."
"That is impossible." Minerva raised her voice to be heard over the portraits that had started clamoring. Her tone was steady, despite her frantic thought that the Blacks would be the family to achieve the impossible, and raise the dead, simply to spite the rest of the world.
The woman retracted her cold eyes from the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black and turned them on Minerva. "Let us take a quick jaunt to my ancestral home then?" And with head-spinning quickness Carina spun to the fireplace, took a pinch of Floo powder, and shouted, "12 Grimmauld Place!"
Minerva did not see any option but to follow her.
Ginny and Harry had transformed Grimmauld Place into a boarding house for young Aurors. So although Carina was evidently shocked, Minerva was not surprised to find the living room of Grimmauld Place occupied by an assortment of young Aurors.
"What are you all doing here?" Carina demanded, her aristocratic disdain even greater than it had been in Minerva's study.
"What are you doing here?" One of the Aurors, who Minerva recognized as Warren Cautney asked suspiciously. "Hello, Professor McGonogall, do you know this woman?"
"No," Minerva answered. "I only know that she seems to have disrespect for other people's property."
"Professor," Carina spoke, and Minerva had taught enough students to know her sweet voice promised trouble, "I know you are advancing in years, but I introduced myself to you just moments ago."
"I remember the lies you spouted seconds before you came here, yes," Minerva said levelly.
Carina looked indignant. "I do not spout."
One of the Aurors moved as if he was going to curse her, but Carina ignored him and bounded over to the tapestry. Her fingers traced it tenderly as her eyes softened.
"What are you doing?" Scorpius Malfoy asked.
Carina's finger reached down the tapestry and then tapped the face that lay directly below Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass Malfoy. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy."
Scorpius's eyebrow raised a millimeter. "I am sorry, have we met?" His pureblood manners remained unfailing.
"I am disappointed that none of you recognize me," Carina sighed, the corner of her full mouth dipping into a frown, "but no, we have never met."
"Just tell us who the bloody hell you are," another Auror said, exasperation clear in her tone. Minerva did not blame the Auror for disliking the strangely tense atmosphere.
"I really do not like such uncouth language, Miss Falk. But in answer to your question, my name is Carina, and in a moment all will become clear."
Scorpius rolled his eyes; Minerva too resented the melodrama of Carina's statement.
The next moment all of the Aurors' wands were out and trained on Carina, who had just pulled a small silver dagger out of her robes. "Never know when you are going to need some blood for a little spell or two." Her grin was manic. The only people in the room who did not flinch were Minerva and Scorpius.
"Alright, that is enough." Scorpius commanded, and not for the first time Minerva was astounded a pitiful ferret like Draco Malfoy had raised Scorpius into such a respectable young man.
Carina ignored him and instead sliced her palm easily, as if she had done it hundreds of times. A bright red slash appeared instantly, blood flowing easily from the open wound.
"I am going to take you to Auror Potter now." Scorpius interrupted, and sprang into action. He grabbed Carina's arm; an instant later they vanished. But Scorpius wasn't quick enough, because Carina had still had time to smoothly press her bloody palm onto a leaf in the middle of the tapestry.
Minerva strode forward, wand ready to stop whatever blood curse the insane girl might have wrought. When she saw the tapestry her hands trembled.
"What is it, Professor?" Warren Cautney asked, noticing her change in demeanor.
"Go to the Auror Offices and bring the girl Mr. Potter back here, and bring Auror Potter," Minerva ordered. "Now, Mr. Cautney!"
Warren nodded and obediently Apparated away.
Minerva returned her gaze to the tapestry. The blood had quickly absorbed into the wall, causing the thread to rearrange into a miniature portrait. In curling script, under the small embroidered picture that looked uncannily like the girl Scorpius had just disappeared with, was the inscription Carina Vela Black, 1909 -
Minerva sat heavily into one of the armchairs.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Carina's shouting brought attention to them once the pair appeared in the Auror Offices. Scorpius ignored the crowd as he attempted to hold the bloody knife while also restraining the dangerous woman.
"Unhand me, you witless buffoon!" Carina yelled. "You have no right to kidnap me you beetle-brained scoundrel!"
"You cannot just pull a knife out in front of half a dozen Aurors and expect no consequences," Scorpius reasoned calmly.
"If I wanted to arrange a blood-bath of Aurors I am not so incompetent as to use a small harmless dagger when I know curses that would make you long for the comfort of your mother's womb!" This didn't seem like an empty threat.
"Nevertheless, it could be a cursed weapon." Scorpius explained. Despite the growing crowd, Scorpius's attention did not waver from the woman who was struggling in one of his arms.
"No, it could not be a cursed weapon, Mr. Malfoy! Although I should not be surprised that the great-grandson of that useless dunderhead, Armand Malfoy, would be so dreadfully inept! One cannot use a dagger that has been spelled or cursed in any way for blood magic." The woman did not pause in her insults even as she radiated frustration.
"Scorpius," Harry's voice cut through the scene, causing both the strange woman and Scorpius to become still. "Care to explain?" Scorpius knew that Harry would bring the full attention of the Auror Office to anyone who so casually and knowledgeably mentioned blood magic. Scorpius opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a shrill crack that announced the subsequent appearance of Warren Cautney.
"Hullo, Auror Potter, Malfoy. Uh, Professor McGonogall wants Auror Potter and the woman to return to Grimmauld Place. And I guess you too, Malfoy."
"You came from Grimmauld Place?" Harry queried, surprise clear in his voice.
"She broke in." Scorpius explained, with a nod at the woman who was glaring fiercely at him. Scorpius had no idea why McGonogall wanted them to return to Grimmauld Place, but she must have a good reason.
Today was supposed to be Scorpius's day off. He had gone to Grimmauld Place to give Edwina Falk a few files that he had been studying in his flat. It was supposed to be a quick trip because he had lunch planned with Albus. Now he was escorting a lunatic from Grimmauld Place to the Auror Offices, and back again to Grimmauld Place. And he was fairly certain she had gotten blood on his favorite shirt.
"Let go of me, you sickening chicken-hearted brute." The maniac insisted once they were back in Grimmauld Place. Although Scorpius admired the ingenuity of her insults he did not remove his hands from her slim wrists. He had not yet searched her for a wand, and he knew better than to let an armed madwoman loose.
"Hello, Minerva," Harry greeted the Professor, who was sitting stiffly in an armchair.
"I am glad you came, Harry," Professor McGonogall said. "I sent the other young Aurors away, as they were crowding the room. You should also leave, Mr. Cautney," she ordered.
Warren sent a nasty glare in Scorpius's direction, since Scorpius was evidently being allowed to stay, but did as he was told.
"Why are we here?" Harry wondered, echoing Scorpius's thoughts.
"Look at the tapestry." Minerva pointed at the wall.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Ha!" The madwoman exclaimed triumphantly, "you believe me now, do you not, Professor?"
"I don't know." Professor McGonogall admitted. Scorpius noted Professor McGonogall's Scottish brogue had become stronger, as it often did when she was stressed.
"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Harry reiterated.
"Until two minutes ago, the tapestry showed that Hesper and Sirius Black had three children." McGonogall explained, "if you look, they now have four."
Confusion was clear on Harry's face and he took a step forward. "I never spent much time looking at this," he admitted, "who is the new one?"
"Carina Vela Black," Minerva said, and Harry's eyes found the spot on the tapestry.
"Carina Vela Black," Harry repeated slowly, "1909 to. . . ."
"Will you get your filthy hands off of me and allow me to explain?" The woman demanded suddenly. Scorpius was just surprised she had stayed quiet until then. "I have not done anything to warrant this callous treatment!"
"You broke into my office," McGonogall accused.
"Aethelred let me in!"
"Aethelred?" Harry and McGonogall repeated.
"The name of the gargoyle. Aethelred."
"You broke into Grimmauld Place," Harry said.
"I did not break in, the wards let me in!"
"You pulled a knife out in front of Aurors." Scorpius reminded her.
"But I did not threaten anyone, and I only harmed myself."
"You vandalized the tapestry," Scorpius insisted, although he was rapidly growing tired of this game.
"I cannot vandalize something that belongs to me!"
"I own Grimmauld Place," Harry said.
"Perhaps, but the family tapestry belongs to all members of the House of Black. Now will you let go of my wrists you moth-eaten fool, so I can explain!" The woman was so tense and furious that Scorpius was reminded of an angrily hissing cat,
"Scorpius, let go of her," Harry ordered, so Scorpius dutifully removed his hands from her wrists and took a large step away from her. "There's three of us to her one."
"I should be offended that you are underestimating me," the girl declared, and Scorpius was certain the only person who could match her contemptuous voice was his grandmother, "but it is working in my favor, so I will not complain. You are also not the first, my brother, Lycoris, had a nasty habit of underestimating me." She glided to the tapestry and pointed at the name, Lycoris Phineas Black, next to Carina Vela Black.
"That's not possible." Harry disagreed flatly.
Carina rolled her eyes. Scorpius could count on one hand the amount of people not related to Harry who had the gall to roll their eyes at the Chosen One. "Just like it is not possible to survive the Killing Curse?" She taunted. Everyone was shocked by her bold statement, and because Carina had begun tracing obscure runic symbols with her wand onto the scorch marks of the tapestry.
To Scorpius's amazement the scorch marks were fading and becoming faces on the ancient family tree. The descendants of these disowned family members were also appearing in delicate lines down the tapestry. Carina seemed to slip into her own world as she looked at the tapestry, causing Scorpius to suddenly feel as if he was intruding on an intimate moment.
"Uncle Phineas is long dead, but he will always be a Black."
Everyone watched, entranced, as Carina's fingers danced to another face that had just appeared. "And poor darling Marius." Carina's voice was quiet, almost broken. "He was likely better off without us, but I have half a mind to bring Uncle Cygnus back to life just so I can torture him for what he did that day.
"I never met Andromeda and Sirius, beyond my own limited gaze. I think Andromeda was . . . is . . . happy, which is more than most of the Blacks have claim to."
Carina stared at one spot on the tapestry for a long minute. "Where is cousin Sirius, then?"
"Dead," Harry responded sharply.
"Did you see the body? The tapestry does not have a year of death, and the tapestry is never wrong."
"He died." Harry's voice was harsh.
"Obviously not."
"He fell through the goddamned Veil in the Department of Mysteries."
"If he fell through the Veil then he is not actually dead, just in limbo. Have you tried Summoning him?"
"I say Accio Sirius Black," Harry snorted disdainfully, his fury increasing with every word, "and my long dead godfather flies out of the Veil?"
"Again, if he fell through the Veil then he did not die, as the tapestry clearly reveals." Carina's voice was condescending, as if she were talking to an unruly student instead of the savior of the Wizarding World. "And Accio? Really? There are ways to Summon something other than an easy Second Year charm, Mr. Potter. I thought the defeater of the Dark Lord would have a bit more knowledge of the older forms of magic."
Scorpius knew Accio was far more advanced than a Second Year spell, but he didn't think either Harry or Carina would appreciate his input.
"What I learned from defeating Voldemort is that the Dark Arts are evil!" Harry shouted, his voice had been steadily rising since Carina asked where Sirius was.
Carina scoffed, unintimidated by Harry's fearsome demeanor, "of course you hate what you do not understand. I could kill someone just as well with Augamenti as with Fiendfyre. Easier really, Fiendfyre can be so unpredictable. And what you would term the darkest forms of magic is what is used to destroy other dark forms of magic. Fiendfyre and Basilisk venom, while dangerous, are used to destroy Horcruxes. And you would know all about Horcruxes, would you not, Mr. Potter?" The bold statement shocked Scorpius and enraged Harry. Because the knowledge was so dangerous, very few people had knowledge on Horcruxes.
"Who the hell are you?" Harry growled, his wand suddenly at her throat. "And how do you know about Horcruxes?" Scorpius had never seen his father-in-law look so furious.
To Carina's credit, she did not falter, and begrudgingly Scorpius had to admit he was impressed.
"I am Carina Vela Black," she said in her clear, melodic voice. "And please, I have known about Horcruxes since Great-Aunt Elladora tried to make one. Her problem was that you need to murder a human, not a House Elf, in the ritual to make a Horcrux. After she failed with our House Elf she tried to sacrifice me instead, but Grandfather dissuaded her. I was eight at the time."
"Those half-witted explanations aside," Minerva said from the armchair, while Harry and Scorpius were still wading through the revelation that Carina's Great-Aunt had wanted to murder her, "you cannot be Carina Black. You are clearly not one hundred and nineteen years old."
Either that, Scorpius mused, or he should interrogate Carina on her skin care routine.
Carina nodded sharply, "Mr. Potter, do you happen to have a portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black in this house? I am sure he would have put himself in Grimmauld Place so he could insult his family for eternity."
Scorpius was shocked when Harry snickered, though his face quickly returned to its former grim and foreboding expression.
"Follow me, or I'll Stun you."
"Pettiness is not a good look for you," Carina retorted primly.
Scorpius, Carina, and Professor McGonogall followed Harry through the narrow corridors of Grimmauld Place, like an odd assortment of ducklings. In a far corner of a deserted hallway an empty portrait hung.
"Listen up you feckless old coot!" Carina shouted, surprising her audience.
"Carina, Carina," they heard the reedy voice of Phineas Nigellus Black before they saw him. "What would your father say if he knew you were addressing me as such? I thought Cassiopeia was the dramatic one, but with her gone it appears you have taken up the role." Phineas Nigellus stepped into the portrait and frowned at everyone surrounding it. "Really, Carina? You have already associated yourself with blood-traitors?"
"I fixed the family tapestry, Grandfather." Carina said, her voice now at a normal level.
"I am glad you resumed your place on it."
"I also reinstated Great-Aunt Iola, Uncle Phineas, Cedrella, Marius, Alphard, Sirius, and Andromeda, among others." Carina informed him sweetly.
Phineas Nigellus puffed out his chest, reminding Scorpius of his father in a particularly displeased moment. "They are traitors to the House, Carina. They do not deserve a place either on the tapestry or in our family!"
"I disagree, and you are long dead, so I fail to see what you can do about it. Besides which, you have no one but your own dragon-dung filled self to blame for me being able to fix that cursed tapestry!" Carina was so close to the portrait her nose nearly touched it, but in a flash she stepped away and gestured to the assortment of people. "Tell them, Grandfather, tell them what the esteemed Phineas Nigellus Black did to his favorite grandchild!"
"Carina, that is enough from you." Phineas Nigellus scolded. "You ought to be thanking me!"
"Thanking you?" Carina asked hoarsely, her desperate whisper far worse than her wild shrieks.
"Tell them what you did Grandfather, or I swear to Merlin I will throw your portraits in the Black Lake so the merpeople can tear you apart!"
Phineas Nigellus looked entirely disapproving, but appeared to take Carina's threat to heart. "Carina Vela Black is indeed my granddaughter," he told the group, "and I put her in a portrait for one hundred years."
"You are more insane than a rabid grindylow addicted to Babbling Beverage," Carina hissed, and Scorpius felt compelled to silently agree with her. The infamous Black madness was clearly more than a scary story his grandmother told him when he was young and she wanted him to behave.
"Portrait?" McGonogall repeated. "Are you Fortis Texta Carinae?"
"Strong-keeled?" Scorpius translated, the vague image of a life-size portrait in the Great Hall appearing in his mind. The portrait was situated near the Slytherin tables, but Scorpius had never examined it. He had assumed portraits that spoke to students were more fascinating.
"I thought the name was fitting," Phineas Nigellus confirmed.
"Looking at you gives me an excruciating headache," announced Carina as she twirled away. Scorpius had never seen someone angrily glide until that moment.
"Carina! Carina!" Phineas Nigellus shouted, and perhaps his tone held a teaspoon's amount of pleading, because Carina paused in her stride. "There is a vault in Gringotts under your name, Carina. Open it!"
"It appears, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, and Professor," Carina said, "that I have places I need to be. Thank you for your time, perhaps we will be seeing each other again."
She Apparated away, but for a tense moment the three remaining only stared at the spot where she had stood. Scorpius wondered if this had been a sleep-deprived hallucination until Phineas Nigellus broke the silence.
"My Carina is too strong-keeled for her own good."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"I believe there is a vault under my name here."
Gornot had been working at Gringotts for thirty-eight years, and this was only the third time he had heard a human speak Gobbledegook, the language of goblins. Humans often had trouble with the deep guttural sounds of Gobbledegook, and this woman was no different. Nevertheless Gornot could understand her. "I apologize," she said ruefully, this time in standard English. "My Gobbledegook must be abhorrent. I self-taught myself, and I have had no opportunity to practice talking with native speakers."
"It could be worse." Gornot responded frankly, in Gobbledegook.
"Thank you," she studied the name printed on his Gringotts uniform, "Master Gornot."
"Your name?"
"Carina Vela Black." Miss Black bit her lip, "the account was likely created some time ago by Phineas Nigellus Black."
"Wand." Carina handed over her wand, and Gornot weighed it. "Yew with core of dragon heart-string, 9 and 6/7 inches, flexible. A highly unusual wand."
"An excellent wand." Miss Black responded, in her halting Gobbledegook.
Gornot nodded and searched the records for an account under the name Carina Vela Black.
He was surprised for a second time when he found the file. This account was well-known among Gringotts goblins for being a vault that had been claimed by the Ministry of Magic during Hermione Granger-Weasley's bureaucratic nit-picking overhaul in 2003. Mrs. Granger had reviewed the file and claimed no members of the House of Black existed to claim it, and as neither Narcissa Black Malfoy nor Andromeda Black Tonks wanted it, the Ministry was going to reinvest the funds into St. Mungo's Hospital. 2003 had been a terrible year at Gringotts.
Gornot solemnly turned to Miss Black. "Unfortunately, Miss Black, there are no funds available to you from this vault."
Her right eyebrow raised infinitesimally, "it is empty?"
"In 2003 the Ministry of Magic mandated a bureaucratic overview of Gringotts. This was one of the vaults seized." Gornot tried to professionally keep his tone neutral, but a note of bitterness escaped.
"I have nothing?"
"There was a deed to a house, but the Ministry could not find the property due to the heavy wards. You may claim the deed."
"A house?" Miss Black's interest was piqued.
"Blackthorn House, I believe it is called."
"Blackthorn House in the West Country? And I own it?" Miss Black was evidently startled.
"The legality is a bit complicated according to the Ministry." Gornot explained. "But according to Gringotts, you own it."
Only because the emotion was so familiar to him was Gornot able to detect grim satisfaction in Miss Black's eyes,
"And you may be able to hire a lawyer to retrieve what the Ministry took from you." Gornot advised "But it will be a complex, drawn-out, and expensive legal process."
Miss Black frowned. "I will need to evaluate the state of Blackthorn House before I make any decisions." She decided firmly. "I trust that if I need anything I can contact Gringotts?"
"Yes."
Miss Black nodded sharply. "Then I believe that will be all for today. May many galleons be in your future, Mr. Gornot."
"And to you too, Miss Black." Gornot replied.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
AN: Here we are! I'll be posting the next chapter tomorrow, but here's a tidbit of it:
[Scorpius was baffled. The webbed cracks in the marble floor were minuscule, but Scorpius could not take his eyes off of them. Until he noticed the black scorch marks that formed a perfect circle. Then all the details started to flood his mind: the hardened green stain behind the right pillar, the tiny bottle-stopper, the unavoidable smell of flobberworm mucus, the eerie humming emanating from the Veil, and the heavy feel of magic in the air. ]
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