Chapter 3
Fuck. I had splinched myself. I should have stayed the hell home until I sobered up. Gasping in pain, I forced myself to take a look at my left hand, where the blood was quite literally spurting out. I almost immediately blacked out at the sight of three fingers missing.
"Who's there!" Someone shouted, running out from the front door. "Show yourself!"
"Andromeda Black," I gasped, blinking hard. "I-I've splinched myself."
"Bloody hell," Amara's mother, Abigail, swore loudly, racing down the hill to meet me. I could see the outline of Amara standing in the door, hesitating for a second before she broke off into a run after her mother. "What's missing? Amara!" She yelled behind her. "Apparate back to the Blacks', look for –" she looked at me.
"Fingers," I said through gritted teeth. "Three. But there's apparition wards up…" I sucked in another breath, gripping tightly at my wrist at a poor attempt to cut off the blood flow. I was feeling dizzier by the second, and Abigail was doing what she could, muttering spells to staunch the bleeding. "…and you can't get in without permission unless you're family. And they don't know I'm gone."
Abigail shook her head at me. "Have you been drinking? This was stupid, Andromeda. You're lucky it wasn't worse." I closed my eyes. I knew I deserved that. It was stupid. Amara sidled up next to her mother, her brown eyes huge as she took in my appearance.
"I'll floo, and get in touch with Cissy," she said breathlessly, reaching out as if to hug me but then pulling her arms back, afraid to hurt me.
"Meet us at St. Mungo's," Abigail said briskly, tucking her dark hair shot with gray behind her ears. "Andie, d'you think you can handle one more apparation? Side-along, of course." I nodded tersely, standing slowly to my feet. Abigail grabbed my arm and I braced myself for the sudden disappearance.
When I opened my eyes, we were in the busy hospital, healers bustling every which way and shouting things like "dittany to room 1084, quickly! And Murtlap Essence! No, no - the purple bottle!" Abigail quickly shuffled us up to three harried looking secretaries, two of which were speaking quickly and worriedly into what looked to be some sort of magical communication device. The third was writing furiously on her pad, muttering under her breath about the stupid Accidental Magic Reversal Squad and the incompetent Oblivator Headquarters.
"Muggles everywhere, seeing everything, what we need is the Dark Artefact squad and at least twenty more ministry officials! And experienced healers! But what do they send us?" She growled, flicking her wand as her quill continued to write of its own accord, scribbling down patients' names and room numbers. "They send us interns. They send us the bloody Magic Reversal Squad. What bloody good will that lot do? It was a cursed dark artefact! That can't be reversed!"
She seemed to notice my injury for the first time, snapping out of her frustration. "I suppose you're here for a splinching accident? That'll be fourth floor, you'll need to wait here for a healer – hope you've got the parts to be reattached, we've no time to run around finding them or regrowing them for you. We've a huge issue on our hands; seems some bloody twelve-year-old muggleborn had been slipped a dark artefact last year at Hogwarts, and it detonated, and cursed every muggle within a kilometer. Absolute pandemonium," she barked out, glaring at us as if we'd been the one who cursed it.
"What did you say your name was?" She peered at me, suddenly remembering what I was there for.
I told her, and she made not of it with the levitating quill and paper. "You're in line. Shouldn't be more than an hour. Someone will be by to look at it while you wake, give you something to help with the pain." She stood quickly. "You two, with me!" She waved at two people behind us. It was a terrified looking woman supporting a man, the latter of whom was moaning, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as what looked like wax dripped off from his face, hands, and neck. Upon closer inspection, I realized that it was his actual skin melting off, revealing…well, revealing what was underneath. I quickly looked away.
The sharp pain was still present in my hand, but suddenly it didn't seem so serious.
Another healer rushed by us, clipping my arm and sending another wave of pain down my hand. I could feel my heartbeat throbbing in what were now my finger stubs. I gritted my teeth and moved back out of the busy entrance room with Abigail, letting her lead me to a waiting area. She sat me down on an unused stretcher levitating a few feet off the ground and waved over a healer, who had been in the middle of running with three bottles of what looked like Murtlap Essence in his hands.
"Splinched?" He asked quickly, taking a quick appraisal of my injury.
"Yes," Abigail said quickly. "I know you can't see her right now, but if there's anything you can do while we wait-"
"Of course," the man said, working quickly to unscrew the tops of one of the deep purple bottles. He let a couple drops drip onto my former fingers. I gasped sharply, the liquid stinging as it made contact with the bloody stumps that used to be fingers. But then the pain abated, as did the flow of blood that had turned my entire hand and the sleeves of my dress robes red. There sure was a lot of blood. All of a sudden I was looking at the ground.
"Whoa there, girl," Abigail grabbed my shoulders and I blinked in confusion at her feet. She pushed me down into a laying position as black spots danced in front of my eyes. "We can't have you fainting, now." I nodded and continued to stare straight up at the ceiling until the black edges had disappeared from my line of sight. I sat up again, slowly, as the healer took one more look at my hands, verified that the fingers were in fact on their way, and then ran off to assist with more urgent medical situations.
"You're a tough girl, you'll be okay. We'll get them reattached in no time," Abigail promised me, smoothing my hair in a motherly sort of way. However, I noticed her looking at the clock, which read twenty til midnight. "What could be taking her so long?" She muttered under her breath. She looked back at me. "D'you think you can manage here alone? I think I should go help Amara, she may have run into some trouble."
I nodded. The pain had dulled to a cold aching feeling. I felt as though my hand had been plunged into a bucket of ice water, but this was much better than the sharp, stinging pain. I kept looking down at my hand, wiggling my fingers and seeing only two move. My brain was trying to make sense of the loss, trying to connect to nerve endings that were no longer there. "I'll be just fine. It barely even hurts now. I'm good to wait."
Abigail peered at me, making sure that I wasn't just being stoic. "Should I get your parents here? Your mum?" She asked hesitantly, and I let out a harsh bark of laughter.
"No. I'll be alright. Thank you, though. Thank you for helping me. I'm sorry I interrupted your night." I turned my eyes towards the ceiling as Abigail patted my good hand, which was still gripping my wand. Thank god I at least had that. She murmured that I was always welcome in their home, and not to worry. Then she stood up and walked towards the exit, disapparating with a quiet pop before she reached the door to the entrance room.
I let out a loud breath, carefully working myself into a sitting position again. I rested my back carefully against the wall, managing to magic off some scraps of my dress robes to fashion into a sort of wrap. I didn't want to look at my two fingered hand anymore, it was too bizarre. I struggled to wrap the material around my wrist and over my remaining fingers; it was too slippery with blood, and my hands were trembling too violently.
"Do you need some help with that?" I whipped my head up, looking both ways to locate the source of the kind voice. My eyes met those of the boy sitting in a chair near me, blonde hair hanging down into tired looking eyes. I wondered how long he'd been waiting here, and if a relative or friend was currently being operated on. Or if someone he loved was here because of that attack on muggles.
"I'm alright, thanks," I answered, my voice slightly hoarse. I didn't want a stranger untrained in medicine anywhere near my mangled hand. "Thank you, though." He nodded and looked back down at his own hands, where he was twirling his wand anxiously. He looked about my age – I wondered if he was in Hogwarts. If he was, he wasn't in Slytherin. He was unfairly good looking, if I was being honest, but by the looks of his muggle clothes and somewhat disheveled appearance, he was not from the same type of family I was. A Mudblood possibly, even. Definitely not a Slytherin.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, that familiar feeling of anxiety mixed with uncertainty cropping up. This was one of those situations. Where, as a Black, suspecting what type of wizard this boy was…I should not be talking to him. Should get up and leave, even. That's what Narcissa or Bellatrix would do. But I was determined to figure things out for myself. All I knew was that my heartbeat had quickened and was hammering away at a rapid pace that I was quite unused to.
"What are you here for?" I asked cautiously. The boy continued spinning his wand in his large hands for a moment, but then glanced up and met my eyes again.
"Did you hear what the issue is? Why this place is so full of muggles and everything?" He started.
"I heard a little."
"Well, it's because of my sister. I mean – obviously it wasn't her fault, she didn't know…but last year in Hogwarts, some fucking wannabe dark wizard gave her this necklace, I guess, pretending that it was just a nice gift. Pretty necklace for a pretty girl and all that. Anyway, she was only a first year and didn't think much of it. It was cursed, but it wasn't until just now, months later, that the curse activated. Must've wanted to wait long enough so the perpetrator could get away.
"Well, it went off and cursed every muggle within the kilometer. Thankfully, the rest of my family was out walking the dog," he added under his breath, and a chill ran through me. So he was a Mudblood. I had never talked to one this long before, and I wasn't sure how to feel. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "What did you say your name was?" Before I could answer, his eyes widened. "Andromeda Black." He stood up suddenly, striding over to me. Realization and disgust were etched all over his face, and I sat up straighter, haughtily staring up him straight in the face and wondering why this random stranger had the audacity to come up to me in such a manner.
"Do you remember me?" He asked suddenly, standing right over me. His arms were crossed over his dirty muggle t-shirt. I wrinkled my nose slightly.
"No," I said coldly. "I don't. Should I?"
He laughed slightly. "Of course you don't. I should have guessed. You're probably happy about this, aren't you?"
"I beg your pardon?" I snapped. "What's that supposed to mean? Why would I be happy about this, exactly?"
"Oh, don't you mean to ask about my blood status?" The boy snapped back, raking his hand through his hair in an extremely annoying fashion. "And…you're dating that Burke guy. Burke…Borgin and Burke's." Anger filled his eyes as the pieced clicked together, and his cheeks flushed a bright red. He snapped his fingers. "That dodgy shop that sells cursed items…like the damned necklace."
I opened and closed my mouth, dread settling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't know anything about the necklace, but I wouldn't put it past Silas. In fact, it seemed incredibly in-character. I could feel my face growing very hot.
"See, you can't even deny it. People could die," he said fiercely. "All because of people like…like you. Blood supremacists," he spat as though he was saying the word Mudblood. "Well, that's lucky for you. You've got a front row seat. Hope you enjoy it," he added bitterly, as though I'd chosen to be in St. Mungo's just to see skin dripping off muggles.
He turned around and stalked off, shaking his head as he went. My mouth flapped open, and I was speechless for one of the first times in my life. What the bloody hell?
"Half my hand was splinched off, for your information!" I called angrily after his retreating back, but he had already strode to the other side of the room.
"Ted!" A high voice suddenly rang out, and the boy's head jerked over to a small blonde girl whose eyes were lined with red. She raced towards him, throwing her arms around his waist. He patted her hair and muttered something calming to her, and she nodded. He looked up to meet the eyes of the two healers who had escorted her in.
"We're all done with her," they said. "We'll just need both of your wands to verify your identity and check the last spells you cast."
"We'll do anything we can to help, but Polly has had enough excitement for one night. She's just a child. Clearly, she had no idea what was in that necklace. She was a muggleborn first year when she received it." He spoke firmly and with such authority that the healers exchanged looks, nodding back at him.
"We'll be in touch," one of them promised, and the boy immediately left with his younger sister, not sparing a look back at me. What an odd boy. Still staring at the same spot he had left, I was surprised to suddenly see Narcissa and Amara walking briskly towards me, Abigail just behind them. She held a black lidded container etched with silver vines that normally contained my hair pins. I had a vague idea that they had probably put my fingers in there. Probably had to blow open my door to find them, too.
"Bloody hell," I whispered under my breath. Narcissa was at my side immediately.
"Merlin, Andie, what are you doing waiting out here?" She gasped. "Surely someone is available to see you? It's a simple process, really."
"Well, there's been a mass accident," I said crossly as she grabbed my good hand. Abigail dropped the container at my side and then beelined for a small group of healers standing in the corner. "It has to do with muggles. They're cursed."
"Well, surely you'd be looked at first over them," Narcissa sounded flabbergasted. She was still in her dress robes, ice blue to match her eyes. The effect truly was striking. Her hair was curled and pinned in such a way that it fell down her back like a waterfall, diamonds in the shape of water droplets woven in here and there. "They're only muggles. They shouldn't even behere." She sniffed daintily, looking around her as though she could literally smell them.
"Their skin's melting off, Cissy," I said testily. "I think it makes sense that they're getting looked at first."
Cissy rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. You're a pureblood. They're just going to have to Obliviate all their memories anyway. They won't even remember if they were helped first or last."
"Do Mother and Father know where I am?" I asked suddenly, ignoring her last remark about the muggles.
"Hm, no. I thought it best they be kept out of the loop on this particular adventure," Cissy answered sardonically. "Not to worry. I was very discreet." I nodded gratefully, squeezing Narcissa's hand. "Are you all right though, Andie? I was ever so worried when Amara called, her head popped right out of my fireplace and I had to give her permission to apparate in-"
"I'm sorry about that," I rushed. I was suddenly overcome with a wave of affection for Narcissa, who was not only a sister but a friend, an ally. I wrapped her into a one armed hug, which she returned. "I'm alright, I promise. I just…needed some air."
"At Amara's house?" Cissy arched an eyebrow.
I was spared having to reply by Abigail and another healer, dressed in the red trimmed white robes of an accomplished, senior staff member hurrying over to us, dodging other healers running this way and that as they tried to cook up the right potion, the right antidote. From the tone in the room, things were growing more and more dire. Nothing seemed to be able to stop or reverse the melting of skin; it could only be slowed ever so slightly.
"Miss Black!" The healer addressed me immediately. She was a slim woman with silver-grey hair, and she looked extremely capable, from her not-a-hair-out-of-place bun to her sensible, no-nonsense shoes. "I am so sorry about the wait. If we'd known the details of the situation, we would have seen you earlier. Deepest apologies – if you could, please follow me – or would you prefer to stay on the stretcher?" She lifted her wand, ready to levitate the stretcher behind her.
"I'm able to walk," I replied, slightly confused. Besides me, Narcissa was nodding, satisfied.
On the way to the elevator, I found myself looking around me at the mess of chaos. There was a woman just entering the hospital, shrieking in a way that made my heart hurt. Her skin, too was sloughing off in alarming large quantities. She was being followed by another red-trim robed healer. My insides twisted and suddenly I felt I was in grave danger of losing my dinner. Which I promptly did, all over the white-tiled floor. I fell to my knees, retching uncontrollably as my stomach emptied itself. I could feel Narcissa's comforting hand on my hair as she murmured to me, but all I could see was that woman and the red of her muscles and the white of her bones. I closed my eyes against the image, but it wouldn't go away. I heard the blonde haired boy's words, saw the dark eyes of Silas flashing in my mind. The covered left arms of Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rosier.
When I was finished I took Cissy's offered hand and stood shakily to my feet, gladly leaning on her and Amara as we continued to follow the healer. My hand was fixed in no time, but what I had witnessed that night would stick with me forever. Meanwhile, the blonde boy with his little sister was nowhere to be seen.
As I was walking out, an unpleasant memory assaulted me suddenly.
"Do you remember me?" The blonde boy – what was his name? Ted? Had said. Another memory swam before my eyes. Silas, the Quidditch game, third year…
"Oh, don't you mean to ask about my blood status?" I winced slightly as my earlier words came back to me. But they were nothing compared to what I said the first time. Which, as more and more came back to me, I realized…this, tonight, had not been the first time the boy and I had met, or even the first time we'd spoken. Most saliently, it also had not been the first time I'd been rude to him. Unbidden, another scene flashed before my eyes, and the accompanying slight twist in my stomach that reminded me of the day I'd realized that my fate was to be Silas Burke's wife.
"Clearly, I came in here to be alone. Not to be bothered by a Mudblood like you," I had spat at the boy. Much younger, yes, shorter hair, shorter stature – not the lean, muscled man I had talked to today. But they were the same bright brown eyes. I shook off the memories. It didn't matter. He was a Mudblood Hufflepuff, I was a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. And though I was questioning my position in life, I felt certain that I would never cross paths with that boy again, lest it be in passing on our brooms above the Quidditch field.
"So, what did you want to tell me about?" My voice was low as I slowed my steps, pulling Amara with me behind the group of Narcissa, Lucius, and Silas. We were shopping for school supplies, as we'd be in King's Cross Station in exactly two days. The splinching incident had taken place the previous week, and throughout the days that had passed, neither of my parents had let on to the fact that there had been a disapparating accident in the top floor of their hours. In fact, after the party, my mother had shut herself in her room, complaining of terrible headaches, and I had scarcely seen her.
I flinched slightly as a gnarled old wizard stepped out from the shadows, fog seeming to cling to him as he smiled lewdly at Amara and me. He was holding a tray of what looked to be human eyeballs. We quickened our pace. Somehow, in Knockturn Alley, the weather was always a few degrees cooler. I linked my arm in Amara's tightly, taking comfort in her presence and also the fact that she probably felt at least as out of place as me in these darkly sinister streets.
"It's important," she began slowly, once we'd created a far enough gap from the other three. My feet knocked against uneven cobblestones, and I took a moment to yank my robes back from a man who had grabbed hold from his sitting position on the street. I turned back to Amara. "And...I'm not sure how you're going to take it, Andromeda." Her dark eyes searched mine carefully, as if looking for something. I nodded silently, giving her confirmation to continue.
"You've been my best friend since first year, Amara. You can tell me anything, you know that. You know me."
"Well," she squirmed, suddenly looking very intently ahead. "You see, that's the problem. I'm not sure you know me."
"Don't be silly Amara Nymphadora Montgomery, I know everything about you. You take your tea with two spoonfuls of sugar, you'd be the best flier on the Quidditch team if you could get over your nerves and try out, you hate the library because it smells funny but you love books…" I grinned at her.
"My father didn't actually die in an accident when I was little," she rushed out quickly. "Well, he did, I guess. Tobias Montgomery did die when I was two. But he wasn't my biological father," she whispered in hushed tones, eyes darting this way and that to make sure that no one was listening except for me. I struggled to process this information, my brow furrowed.
"What do you mean, he wasn't your father?" I whispered back, bending my head towards her. "D'you mean your mother…" I trailed off, not wanting to make any insinuations.
"Had an affair? Yes," she confirmed bitterly. "With...with a muggle, Andie. My father's a muggle."
I couldn't help it. My jaw dropped open. How could this be? Amara, part muggle? But she was one of the brightest witches in our year. She recieved top marks in nearly everything; her wandwork was flawless, and she was powerful. How could she only be a half-blood? Slightly less than that, even. I remembered that Amara was looking at me carefully for a reaction and I closed my mouth, returning my face to a neutral state.
"You're doing that thing again," Amara reminded me, poking my side.
"What thing?"
"That thing where your face just becomes this emotionless mask of politeness," she explained calmly. "It's okay to have emotions, Andie. You can tell me what you're thinking."
"I know that!" My cheeks flushed. "I just...I'm just surprised. Did your mum just tell you this? Did you know the night I was splinched?" I flexed my left hand instinctively. It had now become almost a tick, just to make sure I still had all my fingers, a week later.
"Well...yes," she said in a small voice. "I've known for a year, Andie."
I was silent for a moment. "A year?" I knew I shouldn't have been, but I was slightly hurt that she hadn't confided in me sooner.
"Don't be angry with me," she said quickly. "I wanted to tell you. But I wasn't sure how you'd take it. We've both thought the same things about blood purity for so long." Immediately, feelings of self pity washed into those of extreme guilt, and I felt almost dirty. Again, I found myself without words, something that seemed to be happening a lot lately. "But then this...obviously made me question things, and I didn't know if you were on the same page," she said cautiously, and I could tell she was choosing her words with extreme care. It felt as though we were doing some sort of dance around a subject we both knew to be very dangerous. "But...lately, I've felt as though things might have shifted slightly for you...as well…" she trailed off. We both looked at each other with wide eyes and then looked away quickly as if we'd been burned. I stared ahead and made sure for the umpteenth time that we still had a good distance between the other members of our party. As if hearing my thoughts, Silas turned back to look at us. I flashed him my most charming smile.
"Amara," I said quietly, turning back to her as I clasped her hand in mine. "You are my best friend. You always have been, no matter what," I said simply. In my head though, gears were turning. I was immediately scrutinizing every feeling, every reaction. Did this change anything? It wasn't like she was a Mudblood, she was a halfblood. And then I immediately hated myself for even thinking those thoughts. I shook away the warring factions of my brain, sick of the shouting back and forth that my upbringing had lately been doing with my instinct. Then I said something that I knew once uttered, could not be taken back. I was planting myself firmly on one side of the line; the opposite side I had always been on, always identified with. Privately and to Amara, anyway.
"You'll be my friend no matter what blood runs in your veins." A slightly chill ran through me as I thought of what my family would call me if they ever knew the vow I'd just spoken. There was a word for that. Blood traitor. An irrational fear bloomed in the back of my mind, one that included Narcissa, Lucius, and Silas turning back towards us instantly and pointing their wands at us both for the betrayal of our ideals that had just fallen from my lips.
Amara's dark brown eyes immediately filled with tears, and I worried for a moment I'd said the wrong thing. But then she flung her arms around me and I staggered back from the sudden weight. "Whoa," I choked, hugging her back. My senses were still on high alert. She pulled back and smiled at me, blinking the tears away from her eyes.
"Let's go catch up with the others, yeah? I don't want too many questions asked," I told her. We re-linked arms and quickened our pace. I took comfort in the familiar feeling of my wand in my robe pockets bumping into my leg lightly with each step. Knockturn Alley had never been my favorite place, now more than ever.
"There you are!" Cissy exclaimed loudly, linking her arm through mine on my other side. "Silas was just saying he's got to stop by his father's shop and pick up a few things for Hogwarts, and I told him we'd come with. I thought you'd want to see Mr. Burke."
"Oh, yes. Of course. What few things did he need?" I questioned lightly, trying to keep the suspicion out of my voice. Unbidden, an image of the blonde Hufflepuff - who's name I had never officially gotten, but assumed was Ted - flashed through my mind. In my memory, he spoke - you're dating that Burke guy. Burke…Borgin and Burke's. That dodgy shop that sells cursed items…like the damned necklace.
Merlin, I felt so uncomfortable. With everything, lately. In my head I forced myself to calm down as we continued to walk through the streets, approaching the dark sign with gold lettering that read "Borgin and Burke's: Selling Objects with Unusual and Powerful Properties Since 1863." Yeah, I'm sure you have been, I thought darkly.
We entered the shop, which was three degrees colder than even the rest of Knockturn Alley. As we stepped inside, a large black crow cawed loudly in place of a bell. I jumped slightly, having forgotten that this was how our entrance had always been announced into the dark shop. Narcissa and Lucius broke off immediately, drawn to what I knew to be the Hand of Glory. In front of them, leering, angry masks lined the walls - masks I knew that once you put on, would never actually come off. They would slowly become one with your face. There were human bones everywhere the eye could see - crushed, powdered, or whole. They drew the eye up to the ceiling, where one could see spiked tools that looked as though they'd been instrumental in harvesting the bones.
Silas sidled up on my other side, peering behind the counter, where a winding staircase leading up was located. There was a nice flat above the shop, where Silas's parents or the Borgins sometimes stayed when they weren't at their respective manors. They also had interns to help with the work. Interns who also most definitely belonged to the Knights of Walpurgus, following a man who called himself Lord Voldemort. My mind drifted back to the signs pasted all over the nicer parts of Diagon Alley. The youthful face of Caradoc Dearborn, a twenty year old squib, was plastered everywhere. In the photo, he was yelling defiantly - speaking at squib's rights marches. Missing since July. Next to him was Amelia Fenwick, a muggle-born Ministry worker, missing since April.
The three of us turned to a door in the back squeaking open.
"Father?" Silas called, peering behind the staircase. Silas's father, tall and dark, had a hand dressed in heavy silver rings propping open the door as he finished what looked to be a very intense conversation with another dark haired man, pale and powerful looking.
They both turned to look at us, and I locked eyes with the second man. Immediately, my insides were trapped in a block of ice and all I could hear was my heart beating. Time seemed to be frozen; it was just this man and I in the shop. Everyone else was gone. He was a beautiful man, there was no other word for it. But immense power rolled off him in waves. Dark power, it was clear. His face slowly, leisurely broke into some sort of grin towards me; he was a snake, I was his prey. I couldn't move, all I could do was stare at him with wide eyes. And then, it happened. So quickly I wasn't sure if it had. But I saw his eyes burn red, the pupils slit, like a snake's. And then he was gone, and I was dropped unceremoniously out of the trance.
I took quick and shallow breaths, realizing that I had been digging my fingernails into the arms of both Amara and Silas. I released them, with an apologetic look to Silas. There was no sign that he'd felt what I had just experienced with the man with red eyes. Silas's father, Irving, strode towards us briskly, a deep purple velvet black in his hands.
"Silas, Andromeda!" He smiled widely, his voice as smooth and velvet as the bag he was holding, which he promptly deposited under the desk and out of sight. He came around to the front clasping Silas's and my hands. We introduced him to Amara, and Lucius and Cissy circled back around to give their greetings as well. Irving was a man of high highs and low lows. Like my own parents, he was deeply entrenched in pureblood ideals. He could be incredibly generous to his own kind, but unimaginably dangerous to those that didn't fit the bill for what he thought was the "right" sort of wizard.
"How's my favorite future daughter in law?" He grinned, giving me a wink.
"I'm your only future daughter in law. But, better now that we've got to see you!" I laughed, returning his hug. "How's Camille?"
"She's well, thank you for asking. She's home currently. I just had some matters I needed to attend to today in the shop, people I needed to see," he said vaguely, smiling.
"I see," I answered. "Well, I suppose you can borrow Silas for a bit as long as you return him to us later!" I added lightly, and Irving smiled indulgently.
"There's a good girl. I promise I'll send him back to you ladies soon. Lucius, too, if I may?" He gestured towards the white-haired boy, who nodded and stood next to Silas. Silas's dark hair and complexion made Lucius and Narcissa look even more the Ice King and Queen than they normally did.
Saying our goodbyes and see you later's, Amara, Cissy and I exited the shop. Amara and Cissy conversed lightly as we headed back up to the world of the living, Diagon Alley. The more I thought about what I'd just seen, the more convinced I became that the man I had just seen was the person who was calling himself Lord Voldemort.
