Cassia giggled in her high-chair, and there was little other than festivity and happiness in their lives. Caelia might not have forgiven him- not yet- but she hadn't exactly stopped him from visiting her at night.
She was pregnant again, even though Cassia was barely two years old.
The one time in probably two years to really enjoy Halloween.
The time when veils were thinnest, and when the past, present, and future all collided. Important in the Muggle World, but far more-so in the Wizarding; it was perhaps the most important holiday after Yule and the Summer Solstice. Caelia pressed flowers of moonlit silver into her daughter's hair for the week leading up to it, and the two of them danced under the harvest moon all night long.
They dance in the Sea of Moonlight Blossoms, an acre-large garden planted with one species alone- lule perla, better known as the pearl flower. Rumored to be notoriously difficult to cultivate and even worse to maintain, one of Sirius' ancestors had loved Herbology enough to import it from its native land, Albania. Over centuries, the flowers had increased in number, from the hundred that the lady had brought to the thousands- nay, millions- that circled her now. Silver and brilliant, the pearl flower lay dormant for years until it was mature enough to bloom, and legend had it that the lady had died believing she had sacrificed the Black fortune for nothing.
Hours after she breathed her last, they blossomed- and the beauty of that first glow still inspired poets and artists. Caelia had paid more attention to another thing, though; seven flowers- one for every year the fields lay barren- had been laid on the lady's grave, and no other was placed.
They were said to have lain fresh until the next Lady perished. Caelia wept when she heard that story- wept until there were no more tears in her.
Is my life going to be the same?
Cassia went to bed, later, tired from all the exercise she's gotten, and Caelia curled up in her giant bed, lonelier without Sirius.
I hate him.
-but he's my husband. I can't just throw him out forever- what about Cassia? She's his daughter. And for all that he's never loved me, at least he hasn't acted like he does. Like Lucius would.
And that could have been a match made in hell. Narcissa was beautiful- beautifully dangerous. Like a poisonous flower, who had colors brighter than jewels. Lucius, had he not been devoted to her, would have been oily-charming and deadly steel, and they would have killed each other two weeks after their honeymoon.
Bitter longing, mixed with acidic confusion swept through her, and all she wanted was to have him back and throw him out. Slowly, it ebbed, like midnight tide, and she drifted into the greyed area between sleep and wakefulness. She was half asleep when a house-elf popped into the room, startling her out of bed and into grabbing her wand.
They lived in a time of war, after all, and no matter where one's allegiances lay, one couldn't afford not to be vigilant.
"Sorry, Mistress," Penny whispered into the awkward silence that followed. "But there are men here asking for Mistress Caelia, and Master Black-"
What has he done now? There was no affection in the thought, only weary annoyance. She wasn't his caretaker, and Caelia had never wanted to be. Damn you, Walburga!
You chained me to the fool of the century.
She swept down seconds before the Aurors start to climb upstairs- a breach of conduct and propriety that meant she didn't have to pretend the furious flush in her cheeks.
"Is there something you gentlemen need?" Her voice was chilly and precise, the perfect way of dealing with them- memories of the Aurors coming to question her over her sister's death were the only thing she could remember- and those weren't fond memories. These were different people, but they were trained by the same.
Forgiveness was not in her nature.
Most of them shifted slightly, but others only stared boldly back. Caelia couldn't help but mark them, watching, hiddenly confused, as they didn't react. Something's changed. And I don't know what. Damn you, Sirius!
"Where is your husband?" The lead Auror asks arrogantly.
Muggleborns weren't only hated because of their lack of breeding. Caelia narrowed her eyes back, and saw all the nights spent insulting them behind their backs. This one wasn't only muggle-raised; he was a pureblood masquerading as a muggle-born. There are some things too ridiculous for even me. James Potter and Sirius might have always defended the Muggleborn, but she'd seen the hidden wince at times when Sirius reacted instinctively to some sort of social gaffe. Maybe this man didn't know any better.
But he was in her society. It was no more and no less than his duty to understand and follow the rules of the society he chose. Fury thrilled through her at his impertinence.
She might be a trophy wife, but even she had limits for a person's behavior. "Not here, Blichfeldt."
"Let it be recorded that the suspect has been uncooperative." He turned away sharply. "Search the premises."
The Aurors moved forward, and the only thing she felt was a sort of blank shock. No Auror had ever- even in the height of terror under Grindelwald- been given the go-ahead to raid a person's house. A house was the personal temple of a true wizard, and to desecrate it with even forcible entry was a perversion of justice.
It was the mockery in another's loose wand, though, that propelled her past shock and into something far more destructive.
Anger.
A roaring wave of fury that caught with the magic of the Manor and swirled together with it; the Aurors stood no chance against her. She stood in her own home, and her daughter was only a few meters away- hidden only by doors and chance. These men would not have dared do such a thing to any other Pureblood family, and they would not do it to hers.
Of that much, she was certain.
Her hair had fallen out of the bun she'd pulled it into, and her dress was coated in the dust from the shaking manor. Power webbed out from her fingers- silken strands that curled around every being inside. Slowly, slowly- so very slowly- she brought her hands down, feeling the strands tear one by one. Bowing her head, she shuddered at the feeling of absolute power. No wonder so few wanted it- or spurned it.
A shake of her head brought the rest of the world back into focus. The threat had been neutralized. It was time to deal with the aftermath.
Shock burned coldly in her stomach, and she wondered dimly when the magic of the Black Manor had become attuned to her own. When had she been so stupid? Except- except Sirius was the Lord. And he wasn't even there, half the time. The magic needed somewhere to go. Caelia was just a useful scapegoat.
More chains. Rage steamed through the chill air, but there was nothing for her to attack.
Baring her teeth felt almost good, even if it was uncivilized, but she needed to be in control for this. A flick of her wand, hidden behind her back, had her appearance as coolly normal as always. A second, and her dress was clean. She glanced over the men strewn across her parlor floor, and contempt spread across her face, fresh and clean.
She called Penny back to her, waved her over to the men with orders to clean them up- it wouldn't do to have them looking like they were on the losing end of a fight- even if they were- and scribbled a neat note pasted onto Blichfeldt's chest, before pushing him and various others through the Floo. She didn't know where they'd end up, but they tried to attack her in her home.
If Voldemort was fool enough to have a connection open, she wished all of them would land in his grate.
Lips tight with disapproval, she apparated moments later, heading for the one place she knew Sirius would go- even if she'd avoided it since her graduation.
Hogwarts.
"Where is my husband?" The words were low and hard, annoyance having hardened it into anger. She had been in Dumbledore's office for hours, now, and he hadn't told her a thing. She might have given up before, but there was a shadow in his eyes when he'd stated his ignorance that left her wary of it.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Black, but I do not know." Dumbledore said kindly, yet unable to truly hide the sigh of annoyance. A flare of triumph bolstered her flagging resolve.
Caelia nodded perfunctorily; she wouldn't let Dumbledore have the slightest idea that she was rude or boorish. For all her bravado, though, there was a knot in the pit of her stomach that said she had just committed a mistake.
After all, the only thing saving her from Voldemort's grace was her public distance from Sirius. I wonder if he knows that I keep Cassia away from him just for that.
…Nah. He's just that stupid.
And Sirius was. He was stupid, arrogant, and frustrating at the best of times; she expected that he'd only get worse the more time she spent with him.
The door to the office flung open with a bang, throwing her out of her musings. And Caelia hid a smirk at the rage on McGonagall's face and the studious blankness on Snape's.
Severus. She corrected herself mentally, smirking at the reminder of that memory. She and Severus had known each other for some time, first as tutor and student, then as friends. They might never been close, but neither had been belligerent; they greeted each other in the hallways or at meals, and had always had an easy camaraderie that came from a shared, bitter history.
When she'd spoken to him, civilly, at their marriage, she'd savored the look of utter shock on her newly-wed's face. Neither she nor Severus had had a problem with rubbing it in, either, and it was often the sole amount of amusement she'd receive for weeks on end, after a particularly frustrating Order meeting.
Andromeda might be nice, but Caelia. Well, she just wasn't.
There was a slightly discomfited look on McGonagall's face, probably at Caelia's presence, and Caelia refused to smile at it- while she might have been a half-blood, McGonagall had always been a staunch Muggle-follower. Caelia had never held anything other than respect for her teachings, but there came a time when a person's refusal to seek out different traditions was no longer a choice, but a failing.
McGonagall had lived among them for over fifty years. Caelia was pretty damn sure it was a failing.
Severus greeted her politely after speaking to Albus, but McGonagall just stalked out angrily. Caelia couldn't help but curl her lip in response to the slight.
"And yourself, Severus?" The involuntary twitch from Albus at her warm tone left her lips twitching.
He inclined his head almost sardonically. "As well as can be expected, I suppose." Eyes dark with some hidden emotion, he continued. "And what about your boor of a husband?"
She could see the anticipation in Albus' eyes to her rebuke. A hidden part of her sent a withering look at him. "Oh, well enough. He's why I'm here actually." At his arched eyebrow, she went on. "I got a squad of Aurors on my doorstep at two in the morning. I was- displeased- at their presumption. To say the least."
He snorted. "I suppose they'll be coming to pick me up, soon?"
Caelia shrugged flippantly. Her spirits were higher now, after a light game of verbal tennis, than they had been in weeks. Says a lot about my personality, I guess.
"It depends on what you mean by they."
Dumbledore interrupted, sounding faintly startled at the familiarity of their exchange, and Caelia could barely stop herself from echoing the smirk on Severus' face. "No one is going to take anyone, Severus. Mrs. Black-"
"Lady Black." Caelia doesn't stop herself this time, as she had all the others; bravado carries its own headiness.
"Excuse me?"
"Lady Black." Caelia leaned forward, almost threatening. "As is my title ever since Walburga Black perished."
Dumbledore frowned. "I would have assumed you would not stand on formalities,"
"A presumption that is most assuredly wrong," she responded coldly. "And I do sincerely apologize if I have given you such a preposterous idea."
A weak smile answered her statement, and he turned away slightly. "Pardon me, Lady Black, but there are a few issues that need my approval."
"Of course," she said graciously- in victory, she could claim to be generous.
Severus sent her an unreadable look, before bowing courteously. "I must take my leave, Lady Black, but I do hope you will- ah, grace- us with your presence before the end of the year?"
She nodded back, lowering her head briefly. Respect ought to be shown first to Albus, then Severus, but pure spite motivated her actions and erased all restraint. Ignoring Albus, she told Severus to owl her a time and a place to have some tea, and catch up on their lives outside of Hogwarts.
Directing a half-hearted scowl at Albus, she walked over to the mantel, and said flatly, not bothering to conceal her irritation, "I expect Sirius home soon, Albus."
Hi everyone!
This was supposed to be updated last Friday, but end of semester rush, flying all the way across the country, and getting a huge amount of inspiration to write my other story (which is ATLA but is still good, so go read it!) all combined to mean that I couldn't edit this in time. If some of you have noticed, the tense changes sometimes, from chapter to chapter. I'm trying to change that, and keep it all in past tense, which means most of the previously written chapters need to be completely rehauled.
I was going to make these two separate chapters, then decided to just sit down and finish it all today. Hope you enjoy:)
Anyways... Next chapter you should get a little more Sirius, and, if I can get to it, some spiritual mumbo-jumbo between Caelia and a long-lost sister.
Read and review!
-Dialux
