Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
April 27, 1960
Ministry Of Magic Ballroom
6:15 PM
"Welcome one and all to the Ministry of Magic's annual Spring Ball! It pleases me to see so many new faces in the crowd this evening," Minister Patrick Ackat proclaimed. "I bid you all welcome, and wish you a grand time on this very wonderful night!"
Minister Ackat was standing at the podium of the Ministry of Magic ballroom. Everyone who was anyone had gotten an invitation to the Ministry of Magic's annual Spring Ball. It was the social event of the season. Minister Ackat had made sure that all of his main supporters were there, from the richest Light Purebloods to the lowliest of muggle-borns.
Everyone cheered—well, the Dark and Neutral purebloods clapped politely with noticeably less enthusiasm. This caused Minister Ackat to frown. He knew the Dark and Neutral Purebloods didn't hold him in the best regards, but really such blatant disrespect would not do.
He spotted Charlus Potter among the Dark and Neutral Purebloods that had hung back from the crowd that had gathered for his speech. He was standing with his wife Dorea and their two children. This caused him to frown even more in displeasure. He couldn't stand any of the Dark Purebloods, hell he could barely tolerate the Neutral Purebloods, but he especially hated the Potters.
Ever since James Potter, Charlus Potter's late father, had stolen Roselyn Potter née Rosier from him, he had been embittered towards the Potters. As for Charlus's wife Dorea—well she was formerly a Black; enough said.
Minister Ackat plastered a fake smile on his face, waving to the key figures in the crowd who happened to be, wouldn't you know it, Purebloods. Most didn't react to his direct greeting, choosing to stay stony faced and turning to Charlus Potter for instructions. It was clear that he was the leader amongst the Dark and Neutral Purebloods. Potter turned to look the minister straight in his eyes, smiling that infuriatingly crooked grin—the same grin of the late James Potter—and nodded. Minister Ackat nodded tightly in response, turning away quickly. He really couldn't stand the Potters.
"Minister, may I suggest that you meet and greet the Purebloods and try to make nice?" Nobby Leach, the Minister's personal secretary whispered to him. "The election is coming up in two years and it would be good to have all purebloods on your side."
"I have the Light Purebloods, half-bloods, and muggle-borns already," the minister replied stiffly with an air of petulance. "I don't need the neutral families or Dark Purebloods on my side. They're in league with You-Know-Who anyway."
Nobby Leach had to fight not to roll his eyes. Minister Ackat was such a prejudiced idiot! Nobby Leach himself was from a Dark Pureblood family. He'd taken up this position in hopes that he could influence the Minister and become the next Minster of Magic himself. Helping his fellow Purebloods take back control of the Ministry was just an added bonus.
"Minister, I'm sure you've noticed that the Dark and Neutral Purebloods have more influence and power in the Ministry than any Light Pureblood, mud-muggle-born, or half-blood could ever hope to have. It is always they who decide who goes into office. The fact that someone so prejudiced as yourself made it into office was a mere fluke," he remarked, pausing to fight back a sneer. "It's a new day and era, Minister, with a new Dark Lord and followers. It's up to you to decide if you want to rule it."
Leach then walked off with a satisfied smirk on his face. He always knew just what to say to influence the Minister's decisions. Everything was going according to the plan. He would purposely set the Minister up for failure in a meeting with the Dark and Neutral Purebloods, and sit back and watch him fall flat on his ass. Then he would miraculously swoop in and introduce himself, making a deal with the Purebloods, but most importantly, with Charlus Potter, the Dark Lord's right-hand man.
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April 27, 1960
Ministry of Magic Dining Room
8:45 PM
Charlus Potter stood in the middle of a circle of Pureblood supporters of the Dark Lord Voldemort. They had all gathered at the prospect of hearing Charlus Potter, the Dark Lord's right hand man, speak.
"I would like to propose a toast to the new lives being born into our respective families, to the continuous growth of our wealth, and to the victory of The Dark Lord as he continues to fight for a change in the Wizarding World!" Charlus shouted, waving his champagne glass around in the air.
Charlus was suddenly very glad that he'd had the foresight to throw up a very powerful silencing charm around their area as the Purebloods broke into very loud cheers, roaring their approval at his speech. Sure it was risky giving a speech to Lord Voldemort supporters in the middle of a Ministry ball, but Charlus Potter was a former Gryffindor, and lived and breathed on risks. No one really thought much of their gathering anyway. They always passed it off as being a gathering of Dark and Neutral purebloods that thought they were too important to mingle with the lesser people.
As the crowd parted once again, Charlus made his way back to his family. Dorea was sitting at their table holding James and Antila in each of her arms. She looked beautiful in a dark purple silk dress that brought out her eyes and accentuated her figure. Her hair was pulled into a French twist and held by sparkling ornaments. He could see many women eyeing her enviously as he approached, taking Antila from her arms.
"What did I miss?" he murmured into her ear, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
"Nothing much… Just Minister Ackat making an ass out of himself, as usual," she replied with a wry smile as she rocked James side to side in her arms.
James, now one month old, looked very cute. His brown hair was as unruly as ever and he'd finally opened his eyes. They were a dark brown, darker than Charlus's own but still pretty, albeit a bit common. He wore a black dress robe that was somewhat reminiscent of a muggle tuxedo. On his wrist was a silver bracelet that kept accidental magic in check, having more than one hundred protection charms on it. There was a ruby the size of a marble dangling from the bracelet as a charm
Antila looked very pretty as well. Her curly black hair was held down by a purple barrette with a marble sized onyx gem on it . She wore a purple dress robe, black stockings, and tiny ballet flats. Two silver bracelets donned her wrists due to a constant outburst of accidental magic from her fingertips.
Charlus, holding Anita, sat down at their table to eat the six-course meal that the Ministry was serving their guests. He and his wife greeted people they knew as they passed by. They spoke to Abraxas Malfoy, his wife Druella Malfoy née Rosier, and their one-year-old son Lucius Malfoy. Why they would name their son something that sounded so close to luscious, Charlus didn't know. They greeted Theodore Nott, his wife Adona Nott, and their newborn son Atticus Nott. Albus Dumbledore had even seen fit to drop by and put in his two cents about how it wasn't too late for Charlus to turn away from the path of darkness, severely pissing him off, and putting him in a bad mood for the rest of the night. Phoebus Prince was the last familiar face to stop by their table. The Dark wizard hadn't been seen in public for some time because of his mysterious illness. "Phoebus, this is a surprise," Charlus asked, his eyebrows raised. "What brings you to our table?"
Dorea skillfully pretended not to listen as she rocked James to sleep. Besides, she needed something to gossip with the other pureblood wives about.
"I'm afraid this isn't a social call, Charlus," Phoebus replied, his face grave. "I'm here to collect the life debt you owe me for saving your life at your first Death Eater battle… You remember, I'm sure. You froze up. Tou remember, I'm sure. You froze up and was almost hit by Avada Kedavra."
Charlus visibly stiffened in his chair. "Please have a seat, Phoebus. Might as well tell me what you need. My mood has been permanently soured for the rest of the night, anyway," he said with a sigh, downing a glass of wine and looking around for a waiter. Spotting one, he waved him over.
"Get me a bottle of Louis XIII de Rémy Martin Cognac," Charlus said imperiously to the waiter. "If you get it to me quick, there might even be a tip in it for you."
After the waiter departed, Charlus focused his attention on Phoebus.
" Charlus, do you remember my sister Eileen?" Phoebus asked seriously.
Charlus had to put down his wine and think a minute. An image of a pale, thin, sullen-looking girl with a long face and bushy eyebrows came to mind, and he grimaced. Yes, how could he ever forget that—that hideous creature. The Gryffindors used to call her 'long face Prince' and 'creature from the swamp,' which when he thought about it were pathetic names, but they stuck all the same.
"Yes, how can I ever forget little, sullen Eileen Prince? What about her?" Charlus replied dryly, taking his bottle of Louis XIII de Rémy Martin Cognac from the waiter with a glare, just daring the man to ask for a tip.
The waiter had some gall, though, and puffed out his chest, asking, " What about my tip?"
Charlus bristled at the disrespect in the mud-blood's tone.
Sneering nastily, Charlus replied, " You didn't get it here fast enough. Now get out of my sight before I have you fired."
The waiter scampered off in a flurry of robes, causing curious eyes to drift to the Potter table.
Charlus took a swig of his drink, motioning impatiently for Phoebus to continue.
"Well, my sister got herself knocked up by a muggle. Some abusive whelp named Tobias Snape. It was born in late January and I've been concerned about its well-being. You see, her child will likely be the heir to the Prince line since I'm sterile and well on my way to dying. You know I've been sick ever since I was born, but my illness has finally caught up with me. Anyway, let me get to the point. If anything ever happens to me or my sister, I want you to take care of the child," Phoebus said seriously, sobering the mood of the table.
"At least tell me the little bugger's name," Charlus said somberly, taking another swig of his drink.
Sensing her father's distress, Antila squirmed in his arms. Charlus hastily passed her to his wife, rolling his eyes in irritation.
"His name is Serverus Phoebus Snape. A good strong name, if I do say so myself," Phoebus said proudly. "At least he has my middle name, so it's okay, but it's still just a lowly half-blood."
"Fine. I'll think about it, Phoebus," Charlus replied, visibly annoyed. "Until then, you're dismissed."
Phoebus nodded wearily, and with the help of his cane, he stood and limped away.
Once Phoebus was out of sight, Dorea turned to him.
"What are you going to do, Charlus? You can't actually take on this task!" Dorea exclaimed softly, careful not to wake their children
"What can I do then, hmm? I owe the man a Life Debt… that makes me obligated to take this task! You give me a way to get out of this debt and then we'll talk about it," he shot back viciously. "So until you can figure out something, why don't you just sit back and shut up."
Charlus rubbed his temples. He had become increasingly agitated this whole night but now he was just pissed the fuck off. He hated public appearances. They made him pretend to be something he was not.
Dorea fell silent, stunned that he'd talked to her like that. Several minutes of silence passed.
"I think you've had enough to drink, Charlus," she said, finally gaining enough nerve to speak again. "It's time to go home."
Charlus made no protest, only managing to nod wearily.
Together Charlus and his wife made their way out of the Ministry Ball Room with their two children, unaware of all the eyes watching their backs. Change was in the air. Even so, a question remained: was the wizarding world ready for that change?