Orion Black was fuming internally.
It was nine months since the day he had unceremoniously dumped Bellatrix on Narcissa's doorstep. Nine agonizing months, which Bella and the infernal muggle (Orion couldn't believe he had ever found him funny) had spent at the Malfoy Manor, and Orion had spent stewing at the Black mansion. The 'bastard business', as Orion called it, had been naturally kept under the wraps. Orion didn't want any of his daughter's frivolities besmirching the pristine reputation he had spent the last couple of decades creating. The family name could not suffer on his watch. Orion knew his father was probably turning in his grave, what with one of his granddaughters missing, one fornicating with muggles, and one grandson even going as far as becoming an Auror. Orion shuddered internally, only his nephew - Regulus Black was a Black with proper pureblood pride, for he had joined the noble cause of the death eaters. What was rather strange, mused Orion, that five children with exactly the same upbringing had chosen such different paths in life.
Orion had spent the day riding aimlessly around his estate, punishing elves helter-skelter to vent his frustration out on the world. Circumstances, destiny or fate as some would call it had turned the most joyous occasion of becoming a grandfather into something shameful. His son in law Lucius had just visited the Mansion to inform them that Bellatrix had gone into labour. About time thought Orion, his wife had been fretting from the last month, as Bellatrix's due date had come and went. Orion released a sigh of relief, at least he would not have to endure his wife's many speculations on what all could have gone wrong with their daughter. For allowing a healer to see Bellatrix was out of the question. He was happy the half blood spawn was out of his daughter's body. All Orion had to concentrate on now was on the execution of the plan he had carefully crafted all these months.
Orion galloped over to the mansion and as soon as he reached the porch, he dismounted. The groom came hurrying forward to get the reigns from his master - lest another round of crucio made its way. Orion strode over to the parlour and rang for his afternoon tea. He saw his wife descending elegantly from the grand staircase to join him in the sitting room. As Vaiola approached him Orion faked a look of concern and spoke to his wife "Vaiola dear, you should go over at Narcissa's, and be with our daughters! After all, we don't want Narcissa to tire herself out! ".
Orion saw Viola looking at him with mounting surprise, and felt a trickle of anxiety - if there was anyone who could unravel his plan it was her - for Vaiola could read him like a book. Orion knew he had slipped up and thought he could literally see the wheels turning in Vaiola's head. Orion had never shown direct concern for their daughters, always trusting Vaiola to take care of them. Orion cursed mentally, desperately hoping that Bellatrix going into labour and Narcissa being in her first trimester, made the situation urgent enough to book no argument from his wife. Orion breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Vaiola's tiny nod of agreement. He quickly pulled a chain and an Elf appeared bowing.
"Prepare the carriage and mount the trestles, mistress will be leaving for the Malfoy Manor in 5 minutes." Ordered Orion in his most regal voice. It would never do for a lowly servant to see the inner turmoil he was going through.
"Yes, master" Bowed the elf and disappeared with a crack. Orion looked at his wife pointedly, and Vaiola got up, her mind was whirring, most probably to decide what she was going to wear thought Orion condescendingly. They had spent thirty years together, Orion could anticipate every action of hers and vice versa. That is why he had been extra careful with his wife and had let only a little of his inner agitation to seep through as a total lack of it would have made Viola suspicious. So every night at dinner Orion sulked and made snarky comments about the situation his daughters had put the family in, just so his wife thought that was all he was going to do. It would not do for Vaiola to discover his plans for Bellatrix, despite her pureblood pedigree, she was a mother thus would never agree, and Orion couldn't afford for his plan to go awry. Orion waited for his wife to make up her mind, and after a couple of minutes, Vaiola too disappeared to her chamber to pretty up.
A few minutes later Vaiola returned from her room wearing a pretty gown and looking the picture of elegance. Why couldn't his daughters be more like their mother, wondered Orion? Vaiola was the epitome of what a well brought up pureblood wife should be. She was pretty, she didn't ask impertinent questions, and did as she was told. In fact, she was as easy to manage as the livestock on the Black farms. All Orion needed to ensure was that the lady had an endless supply of pretty dresses and baubles; and spare some petty cash for all her indulgent social parties - that incidentally also did his business good by introducing him to many a business associate. Win-Win for both of them in Orion's opinion.
Orion walked to the bar and poured himself a glass from the decanter. He could feel Vaiola's disapproving sniff from behind him. In the early days of their marriage, he and Vaiola had been very much in love, and he, having had delusions of being lucky enough to marry his 'soulmate' had promised Vi - as he called her then - that he would never drink in the afternoon. Well, that one was bound to fail, and when it did the rest of their so-called love went with it. Orion sometimes missed the closeness that once was in their relationship, but then after thirty years of maintaining distance, he could hardly set things right. The men of the Black household were never lucky in the matters of love; for Orion remembered his father's words 'Mistresses for love, wives for heirs' - apparently that motto was going to serve many a Lord Black to find peace.
Orion and Vaiola had gone through a lot. Sometimes when Orion was in a reflective mood, he thought about all the miscarriages, the stillborn sons and finally three daughters, he and Vaiola had. Orion had made peace with the fact that he didn't have any sons of his own - he had grand plans for his daughters. They would be the saving grace of House Black - along with his nephew Regulus of course.
And then as fate would have it, just as he had secured the Malfoy inheritance, Andromeda absconded and Bellatrix declared she was with child. Orion hastily gulped down the firewhiskey. The alcohol travelled down his food pipe burning as it went. He could not allow Bellatrix to unravel everything that he had worked tirelessly to orchestrate. That half crazy daughter of his was supposed to bring in the Nott inheritance. The Notts had a strapping boy that he had chosen as her husband, Bellatrix would be well cared for, also Orion would get enough galleons for his slave trading business in the middle east.
Chucking the entire contents of his glass in one gulp in a very ungentlemanly fashion, Orion bid farewell to his wife and proceeded to apparate to the very edge of the Black grounds. He needed to cross the grounds before he could activate the portkey. Emergency or not - it was never prudent to setup portkey's from your mansion, it weakened security considerably. Orion quickened his pace and crossed over the forest of willow, and disappeared along with the trail.
-x-
Regulus Black stood overlooking the cliff at the edge of Eccup lake. It was years since he had come here but till date, the natural phenomenon of having a lake exist side by side a cliff amazed him. The scholar in him took in the serrated rock formation all over the land, well beyond the cliff, indicating that there was some kind of huge water body here long before the lake came into being. Maybe the lake was the remnant of the water body - mused Regulus. A loud churning noise suddenly distracted regulus from his thoughts. Most wizards were not able to hear the sound of portkeys. Portkeying, unlike disapparation, was quite silent, the latter being characterized by a loud pop. But what most people didn't know was portkeying caused rippling effects in the magical field before materializing in any place.
Regulus sighed, and waited for this uncle to intellectual mind focusing on the matters mundane daily life. Being the younger of the two Black brothers, he had lived in his brother's shadow all throughout his childhood, just the kind of life he had always wanted, he could stay in the shadows undisturbed and continue his quest for knowledge. But since he had joined the death eater ranks it seemed his life had come to be lived on a centre stage. Regulus couldn't honestly say that it was a change for the better. The Dark Lord - Voldemort - he corrected himself mentally - had recognized his razor-sharp intellectual mind and given him a place in his research department.
Regulus still remembered the day he had got marked. It had been the night he had graduated from Hogwarts and his mother fearing that he would follow in his brother's footsteps had bartered his future with Voldemort. She was there to pick him up from Hogwarts along with his uncle Orion - In hindsight, Regulus thought that probably should have been his first clue. They both took him and apparated in front of a manor house that had a strange crest on the gate, which he later discovered was the crest of a new house called Lestrange Manor. Named after two crafty brothers Rodolphous and Rabastan Lestrange, who, if rumours were to be believed, were smugglers. Although it told a lot about the kind of business Uncle Orion had, they were also close associates of Uncle Orion's. It was clear that the mansion was very new and in his mother and aunt's terms - gaudy. There were peacocks strolling about and a whiter than white building made of pure marble towered over then. His uncle held out his wand and suddenly a wizard appeared. Regulus took a step back, he was so not prepared to meet a death eater in full garb. Dressed from head to toe in black, the man was wearing a mask made of some silvery substance, most likely mithril. Regulus sucked in his breath, Mithril was something no wizard had seen for the last millennium. Any wizard had managed to mine and work it, he was a someone who had his respect.
The death eater ran his wand over the three of them and disappeared with a pop. The giant doors of the mansion opened and the gaudiest hall Regulus had ever seen materialized. For a moment Regulus was thrown off by the Gryffindor colours decorating the room. But then he realised that while the room was predominantly made of marble, it was coated with a fair amount of gold sheets, inlaid with emeralds and rubies. It fit, since the brothers were rumoured to be smugglers of rubies. And there at the head of the table, he sat - Voldemort. Even his mother was thrown off for once - the guy had eyes like a snake a hairless head and skin that was as white as an albino. Voldemort turned his head towards Regulus and he could feel pressure against his mental shields. Regulus just let the bare minimum amount of servility trickle through his shield so that it was not apparent that he was an occulumens. As soon as he started plying Voldemort with the kind of horseshit propaganda Uncle Orion usually parroted, he felt the mental pressure disappear and Voldemort turn to other death eaters. Regulus, Orion and Walburga stood slightly off the table for a while while the death eaters went by their day to day jobs. Within fifteen minutes the death eaters had crucioed two people, brought in and slaughtered a manticore, discussed how to trade off the parts and finalized how to divide the revenues.
Suddenly Voldemort made a motion with his left hand and Orion and Walburga presented the son of the Black Family to Voldemort. Voldemort raised his wand and brought down his wand in a series of black saw the sparks suspended in the air, they formed a grotesque skull and came down on his arm. Orion could feel through this shield the pressure exerted by the mark on his arm. Fascinating, it was a form of compulsion, and Regulus realised that it was compelling him to feel pain. Regulus immediately schooled his expression to match exactly the one his new brothers were expecting to see and Voldemort let out a satisfied sigh.
The last two years, that Regulus had spent in the Lestrange mansion, researching portions, spells and dark magic in general for Voldemort, had given Regulus quite an insight into the Dark Lord's operations. Regulus had been shielding his thoughts from the dark mark tattooed on his arm and reading surface thoughts of all the death eaters. Having learnt many titbits of information, for example, Regulus knew that the Lestrange brothers were having trouble finding wives of noble blood, unsurprising thought Regulus - he couldn't see anyone marrying their daughters to the depraved brothers. The brothers had a gruesome reputation even in the shady streets of Madame Sinistra, were banned from all the pleasure houses and gambling mansions of London.
The Zabinis were struggling to have a child, and that's why they had joined the death eater army, in exchange for a potion the dark lord brewed. The Notts were in to fight a rare disease called leukaemia that affected every male member of their family, always making them die young just in time to produce an heir. Crabbe's and Goyle's we just in for the money. The Lestrange brothers were trying to get the Parkinsons to join from about a year.
The Longbottoms', Potters', Bones', Weasleys' had all ostracised the death eater society and had the families had declared for the side of the light, with Albus Dumbledore heading it.
Occasionally Regulus would even skim the Dark Lord's mind, the filth and darkness he saw there was enough to really bumm Regulus out. The tosser was actually half-blood, and he didn't give two hoots about blood purity thought Regulus in outrage. It was in one of these mind skimming instances that Regulus had found out about Voldemort's secret, purely by chance.
Regulus caught himself in time, and concentrated in the present, it would not do to carelessly think about such dangerous matters. He quickly closed his eyes and stuffed the last couple of thoughts behind his mental shields.
Orion Black materialized holding a piece of willow wood that was emblazoned covertly with the black family crest. Regulus stared at his uncle with pity. It was a shame really that the father of brilliant minds like Andromeda and Narcissa was such a fool. Orion Black had just made a deal with Voldemort. And Regulus was left to escort his uncle to the Dark Lord.
Hmmpf he couldn't say Andy would be pleased to hear what her dad was about to do.
Orion walked over to Regulus and clapped him on the back.
'Nephew! Good to see you my boy!' said Orion boisterously. No one could say he was going to meet the Dark Lord thought Regulus disparagingly, Uncle Orion's manner was all too cheerful. He probably thought he was going to get his misplaced sense of family honour satisfied at last. He had literally made a deal with the knew from reading minds of every death eater trapped by Voldemort that everything that the Dark Lord did had a price. Regulus hadn't been able to find out what deal his uncle had made with Voldemort, but he knew in his bones that the price of anything that Orion was asking would be steep.
'Uncle!' murmured Regulus uncomfortably. 'We better be off! The master doesn't like to be kept waiting!'
Regulus held out his arm and Orion put on his hand. Regulus turned on the spot and there was a loud crack - the two wizards were gone.
-x-
Rodolphus Lestrange was many things - shrewd and cunning - he had a reputation in business circles for being absolutely lethal. Originally from England, he was born to a bar dancer in Wiltshire, but because he had travelled the world, his accent made it hard to discern where he was from; thus providing him with an air of mystery that quite cloaked his quite unprivileged origins. Although it was a little-known fact, he had no patience for stuffy purebloods who hadn't done a day of honest work in their life. Rudolphus and Rabastan were most likely mud-bloods, they thought they might even be half-bloods - for they didn't know who their father was. But judging by their mother's lifestyle in their early childhood, their absentee father was probably very wealthy. Rudolphus's mother - Star - for that was her stage name had been, had squandered all the wealth supposedly given her to raise her boys before her sons had turned five and then dumped them in an orphanage.
From then on, both the boys had to fend for themselves, and the streets had toughened them up. Rudolphus, although being younger of the two had learnt very early on that the world was a twisted place, and to survive, one had to do unspeakable things. The brothers had taken the last name of Lestrange, after the owner of the bar their mother used to dance in, for he had always been kind to them.
Rudolphus strode across the pomegranate orchard Rabastan had insisted they have in their mansion. For all his outer bravado, his elder brother was a dreamer at heart, thought Rudolphus fondly. The fact of the matter was, if it were up to Rudolphus, he would have never built such a mansion in the first place, land was a dying investment with very low returns if any. Rudolphus could think of at least ten alternate investment options that would be a better utilization of their hard earned (albeit illegal) fortune. But the day he had seen the wistful look that Rabastan had sported when they visited the Parkinson mansion, he had vowed to get his brother one of their own. And so Rudolphus and Rabastan got themselves a pretty house, they got their acerage, thoroughbred horses, their carriages, their own elves. Everything in short, except pureblood wifes, of course, to be considered respectable gentlemen.
That's where the brothers hit a blank, thought Rudolphus ruefully, lengthening his strides in impatience. He had tried to arrange matches for his elder brother and himself. Both the brothers had laboriously attended many a season, made small talk, tried to court just about any lady, even the most unbecoming hence insecure ones, just to pick up brides - but no avail. Rudolphus hurmphed remembering the first season they had visited. By the wide berth the pureblood wenches were giving them, they quickly realised they would have to polish their mannerisms before they could hope to land a wife. So after a year of rigorous training on wizarding etiquettes that Quincy their butler had painstakingly drilled into them, the brothers returned to the next year's season. Only to be rejected again by the wizarding ton. Rudolphus then hired a secretary that he internally called his PR advisor - and still no avail. Although their advisor did manage to find out the real reason for their continuous rejection. Apparently, pureblood families were very particular about their bloodlines. The house of Lestrange was relatively new for any older wizarding families to even consider lending their daughters as brood mares to them.
The Lestranges had tried to compensate for their lack of pureblood genes by offering grand sums of money, the likes that could bail out old families in sticky situations like the Blacks many times over. However, they were always refused for polite and very believable reasons every time. Quincy found out through his sources, that Lord Black hadn't deemed the Lestranges worthy enough to taint his families bloodlines with, and rest of the ton had followed. It was small consolation, that even the Malfoys had just barely qualified.
Rudolphus gritted his teeth in frustration, in the grand scheme of things, it would be bloody unfortunate if, after all, they had gone through to get here, they got outwitted by something as mundane as blood. Rudolphus had reached the end of his patience and finally approached the Dark Lord with the matter. It was amazing that the Dark Lord didn't laugh at the brothers and their inability to secure wives for themselves, like a couple of unfortunate and very much deceased wizards had done at Madame Sinistra's. Their master, rewarding their long and faithful service to them, had promised him a pureblood wife from the best bloodlines before the year was up.
The Lord had just sent an owl to him, his wife was to be none other than Bellatrix Black and Andromeda Black was selected for Rabastan. Andromeda Black was still absconding, but Bellatrix Black was in a sticky mess that would get resolved today. She would stay at the Lestrange mansion from tonight and would marry him tomorrow.
Cryptic as the sticky mess business sounded, Rabastan knew indeed that this was nothing short of a miracle if the two brothers landed the two Black girls.
Rudolphus reached the mansion and Quincy arrived with his afternoon scotch.
"Master .. If I might be bold enough to inquire, who is the witch in the portrait?"
"Portrait?" Rudolphus looked around confused. As far as he knew his brother hated wizarding portraits. Too noisy he thought them to be.
"The Dark Lord sent this with a house-elf by the name of Kreacher. The lady is utterly beguiling if I may be so bold."
Rudolphus Lestrange almost licked his lips in anticipation seeing the portrait of the young Bellatrix Black in from of him.