Disclaimer: This is a Harry Potter fanfiction. I do not own the Harry Potter verse, it belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. I'm glad they don't seem to object to people writing fanfictions, though, since I'm having a tremendous amount of fun writing this one.
Rating: is T for now. It may go up later.
No warnings as of yet, but this is an AU story. We are still in the Harry Potter verse, but it's changed quite a bit. Characters took different terms than they did in the books and these are some of the possible outcomes.
Summary: Betrayal and deep rooted plots have led to a different outcome of the second war than many expected. The Dark Lord rules supreme, Dumbledore was defeated and slain, his followers hunted down and slaughtered or imprisoned. Muggleborns and the pure and halfblood followers of the Light are given as slaves to those loyal to the Dark Lord. The Light seems to have overcome by darkness and faded away... and yet there are some who still resist, and others who are beginning to doubt. In a world without much hope, every one of them struggles to stay alive, fearful of betrayal and its consequences. Lucius Malfoy wants revenge for the death of his beloved wife, Draco Malfoy wants to regain what he has lost, Neville Longbottom wants to protect the last person he cares for, Luna Lovegood wants to understand, Hermione Granger wants to overthrow the government, Severus Snape wants to make amends, Marcus Flint wants to keep his secret, Astoria Greengrass and Blaise Zabini want to live and Daphne Greengrass wants to love... their paths cross and they may have a common goal, but trust is hard to come by in an age of treason...
1. Prelude: Maydew
set about 1954
"Everyone knows all about elves. Or so they like to think.
Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels.
Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.
Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Elves are terrific. They beget terror.
No one ever said elves are nice.
Elves are bad."
Terry Pratchett
For centuries, the Black family clan had been an essential part of the tight-knit circle of fabulously rich and almost infinitely powerful ancient houses that ruled Britain.
Yet when Cygnus Black assumed the Lordship upon the untimely death of his elder brother Mortimer, the decline had already begun.
Freed of his brother's dominating influence and shrewd supervision, Cygnus set out to explore his newfound liberty. He was generous with his money, extravagant in his tastes and habits and conservative in politics. While no one could deny him his well-earned reputation as a diligent and committed worker and a shrewd statesman, who would continue to rise within the Ministry, the issue of his marriage to nineteen year old Druella Rosier caused considerable ripples on the murky waters of pureblood society.
She was a tall woman, slender and graceful, her words and movements carefully measured, her laughter rare, but rich and luxurious like dark velvet. Sleek black hair flowed over her shoulders, shimmering like polished obsidian. Yes, she was beautiful, queen rose among the flowers of her generation.
Her family bore an ancient and noble name, and most of her ancestors had been distinguished members of Britain's Wizarding society, yet her fortune was small and he would not have married her but for her beauty.
Cygnus Black was a collector of jewels, and this exquisite young woman was to be the centerpiece of his collection. He was proud of her, he delighted in presenting her at parties and receptions, dressed in luxurious tailor-cut robes and glamorous jewelry that accentuated her beauty; but he never loved her.
He never understood the childlike adoration she felt for him, felt bemused at her unconditional hero-worship and fondly, if distractedly noted her unfailing loyalty and puppy-dog devotedness.
He would never have believed her capable of betraying him; not until it happened.
Maybe it was this lack of understanding and compassion on his side, and the unspoiled naiveté of the indulged and overprotected child on hers that eventually led to the betrayal neither of them would have thought to be possible.
It happened in early May, when the old apple-trees in the orchard of Emerald House were in full bloom and the sweet smell of honeysuckle and spring roses permeated the vast gardens. The sky was a velvet canopy of darkening blue, covered in a myriad of stars like diamond pinpricks, and beneath it in the valley, Emerald Lake lay black and gleaming like a dark and silent mirror. On the gently sloping hill stood the Mansion House, its reddish-brown cobblestone walls covered in ivy and vines.
And Lady Druella danced down the garden path that led to the lake, taking deep breaths of the perfumed air.
After dinner, she had kissed her two little girls good-night, then the nurses had led them away and put them to bed.
As her husband was once again away on business in London, the young mistress of the house was left with too much spare time. Without her husband's commanding presence in the house, she was missing her other half, the center of her universe, the planet around which she – little moon that she was – revolved. A strange sense of insecurity and anxiousness overcame her whenever she wandered the empty rooms in Cygnus' absence. These little evening walks helped her to relax; the sight of the beautiful country surrounding Emerald House produced a calming effect on her high-strung fancy.
She was just entering the orchard, when she saw a shadow move between the trees. She started, then decided that it had probably been a bird or some other wild animal; maybe even one of the deer that sometimes ventured near the house.
Nothing to be scared of, Druella tried to calm herself, while instinctively reaching for her wand. She wasn't very good with the more complicated spells or potions, but she knew enough to ward off any unwelcome Muggle or animal intruders.
Once again, something moved between the trees, and this time, Druella managed to discern a shadowy figure, garbed in a billowing grey cloak. Raising her wand, she summoned all her courage and called out: "You are trespassing on Black land! Who are you?"
The shadow halted its movement, then slowly edged closer and straightened itself into the familiar figure of a tall, broad-shouldered man.
"That's funny, I figured it was my land."
Druella shuddered as she heard her husband's voice. There was a strange edge to it, but moreover, he wasn't supposed to be here. It was not possible.
"Cygnus! Of course it is, but what are you doing here? I mean… of course I'm happy to see you and I didn't…", Druella blundered.
He threw back his head and laughed at her silliness, and of course, Druella didn't know how to react. She still felt like the awkward child she had been when they had first met.
"My wife doesn't seem too happy to see me," he remarked.
"No! Of course I'm happy… I missed you, you know," she replied guilelessly.
"Did you now? Well bless you, my love. Come." He held out a hand and as soon as she had grasped it with trembling fingers, he forcibly pulled her close. Druella stared up at him, her beautiful eyes very large, almost frightened.
And again he laughed, before clasping her firmly in his arms and bending down to kiss her. Druella did not protest, but she could not rid herself of the feeling that something was amiss.
"How did you get here?" She asked him, her voice somewhat breathless. Cygnus was not usually this passionate and unreserved with her. Oh, she knew well that he admired her beauty and that he was not immune to her charms – he was a man, after all – but she felt that he never truly let down his guard, not even when he was with her.
"Does it matter, now that I am here?" He replied teasingly, before lifting her chin with one hand and kissing her once again. There was a taste to his kisses that made Druella's head spin, made her forget that her husband was acting odd and that he was supposed to be far away, dealing with important Ministry business. It made her forget who she was, and where they were, and that they were standing in the orchard, in plain sight for every servant of the Manor who happened to look out of a window or door. A soft spring breeze rustled through the leaves of the fruit trees and enveloped them a shower of dancing apple blossoms. Their smell was sweet, light, intoxicating. The air was permeated with magic, and Druella could hear it in the wind, taste it on the tip of her tongue, even see it, when her husband's eyes that were supposed to be dark blue, took on a rich, golden color like liquid amber.
Maybe there was even a tiny voice of warning, somewhere at the back of her mind, cautioning her and saying You are not my husband. If there was, the magic suppressed it, though, drowned it in smells and sensations, and the lonely young mistress of the manor was only too happy to let herself slip away into a fairy kingdom, even if it were just for one night. She was not Lady Druella Black anymore. She was merely an adventurous human girl who had ventured too far on her evening stroll and walked straight into the Kingdom Under the Hills. She forgot about her duties, her upbringing, even her two young daughters, who lay asleep in their beds.
For such is the magic of the Fair Folk that it will make you forget even what you cherish most and turn you into a willing plaything of its masters.
Cygnus Black was but a human wizard of average talent and reasonable learning. The being – for you could not in truth call him a man, since he was so much more than that - who was wearing his body that night like one might wear a clock and hood, however, was not.