I do not own Harry Potter
Trigger warning: grief/snobbery
Chapter Forty Nine The Ride of the Valkyries
Outside Black Rose House, the early morning air was fresh and crisp. Further south than Hogwarts, the Yorkshire Dales had not seen any snow as yet. Instead, a coating of frost glittered in the sunlight.
Trixie was busy in the garden, collecting the magical roses – which bloomed all year round – to create a new display in the dining room. Mistress Caroline had been very sad these past months, since good master Marius had died, and now she was missing dear mistress Maia. It did not help, Trixie thought stubbornly, that dear mistress Maia had decided to play Quidditch. It was such a rough and tumble sport, she said to herself with a shake of her head, and nice little girls like Maia had no business playing it. Not when they were nearly grown-up young witches.
Trixie looked around the garden and settled for Windsor roses. They were mistress Caroline's favourite after all. Once she had filled her basket, she carried it back to the kitchen where Twinky was just taking a fresh loaf of bread out of the oven.
"I is thinking," said Twinky, "that we could be making them a pea and mint soup for lunch and roast lamp with rosemary and thyme for this evening."
Trixie nodded and smiled. She had been used to running the house on her own for many years, before they had moved here. This was also the case with Twinky. The first few weeks between Twinky and herself had therefore been very tense, neither of them wanting to give up their previous level of authority and defer to the other. In the end, they had become friends after an argument over the correct method of making bread and butter pudding had led to them sharing their favourite recipes. After that, they had come to the conclusion that they were the two best house elves in the world, who were lucky to have found each other, and that with their combined brilliance they would keep the best house for the best family in the entire world.
They had not shared a cross word since then.
Twinky jerked her head towards a letter with the Black seal as she turned out the loaf from its tin. "That be coming this morning with master Draco's owl."
Trixie beamed, "It must be from dear mistress Maia, then. I shall be taking it to the mistresses with their breakfast."
Trixie then shifted the weight of the basket and toddled off to see to the flower arrangement. It was still early, and neither mistress Caroline nor mistress Cassiopeia were awake yet. The two house elves busied themselves, and within the hour the dining room table was adorned with a luscious display of Windsor roses and laden with a selection of pastries and fruit. The crisp linen table cloth had not one crease in it, and the silverware – embossed with the Black crest – gleamed upon it.
Caroline sipped her strong English Breakfast Tea blend as she admired Trixie's handiwork. "You know, Cassiopeia, I do feel better about having two house elves, instead of one."
Cassiopeia put down her own cup and saucer, "Of course it is always preferable to have as many servants as possible." She said, with a raise of her eyebrow. At least, she thought to herself, Caroline was not trying to discuss feelings or emotions with her. Caroline's attempt to 'help' her with her grief had become rather tedious. As ever, Cassiopeia had now acknowledged that she'd made her bed and must therefore lie in it. One momentary lapse into self-pity was simply a lapse that ought to be forgotten.
This was also an improvement on Caroline's second favourite topic of conversation: Maia playing Quidditch. While Cassiopeia disapproved of Maia's Quidditch antics as much a Caroline, it was for very different reasons. In her not-so-humble opinion, the girl could break as many bones as she wished if it made her see sense and abandon the game. Perhaps she could introduce her to a more ladylike sport? She could take her riding on an Aethonan over Yule?
"Oh no," said Caroline with a slight smile, "I meant that I should not like the two dears to be overworked. It must be much better for them to be able to split the work and have each other's company."
Cassiopeia rolled her eyes and sighed, "I highly doubt they were ever overworked in our previous establishments. If anything, they are probably underworked here."
Caroline gasped, "Goodness, how could you say such a thing!"
Cassiopeia shrugged ever-so-slightly, "It is simply the truth. It is the nature of the house elf to desire activity and work at all times. When there is not enough for them to do in their employers house, they are often known to slip into the homes of nearby muggles and do work for them, unnoticed of course."
Suddenly, Caroline laughed.
"What on earth is no amusing, Caroline?"
"It doesn't go unnoticed."
"I assure you, by the laws of the Statute of Secrecy-"
"Oh no, they don't attribute to house elves. But you see, we have legends of brownies who slip into homes and do the housework and other good deeds. They are said to be little creatures, very sweet and honest and friendly. Goodness, we even have a fairytale about a shoemaker who had tiny elves creep into his house at night and do his work for him! There is a group called the Brownies, for little girls, who promise to be like the elves and do good turns and help other people."
Cassiopeia even managed a rare smile, "You don't say? That is rather quaint on the muggles' part."
At the doorway, Trixie smiled and made a mental note to share the story with Twinky that evening. House elves always liked to know that their help was appreciated, and it was true, they had been slipping into the garden of an elderly couple in the village and tending to their flower beds.
Trixie walked over to mistress Cassiopeia, bearing the letter on a silver platter. Cassiopeia took the letter and broke the seal. As she read the letter, her colouring changed from pale to puce.
"Duelling lessons! She'll have more duelling lessons than she can cope with! The shame! The shame!" She covered her eyes with her hand.
"Whatever is the matter, Cassiopeia?"
"Maia Violetta has wrought unspeakable shame upon the House of Black!"
Caroline looked very concerned, "Is she alright? Is she in trouble?"
"Oh she is in a great deal of trouble with me! She went to a duelling class last night and was paired with one Seamus Finnegan and lost to him! He even took her wand! The shame! To think that the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange, of the Heir to the House of Black, was even held by one such as him!"
"A duel? What on earth are children doing duelling? And who on earth is Finnegan? Why should she not be associating with him?" Said Caroline frantically, her concern for her daughter had not been abated in the slightest by Cassiopeia's response.
"Well, children have to duel each other. They have to learn somewhere, that's hardly the point. The point is that she lost! To this Finnegan boy!"
"To be blunt, Cassiopeia, she's twelve years old and I don't care if she won or not, what I want to know is what's so wrong with this Seamus Finnegan? Why is it bad for her to be near him? Is he trouble?"
Cassiopeia picked up her tea cup, downed the last of it in her fury, and slammed it down on the table. "To be blunt myself, Caroline, you don't understand. The honour of the House of Black may one day rest on her ability to duel-"
"-then train her yourself-"
"-believe me, I shall and-"
"-Now tell me about Finnegan!" snapped Caroline, who had half-risen from her chair and was almost shouting.
Finally, Cassiopeia relented. "Very well, I know nothing of the boy."
"Then why worry me so?" Said Caroline, sinking back into her chair with relief.
"Well, that's the point. I know nothing of him. He's a categorical nobody. He'll be from an inconsequential family with no prospects."
Caroline nodded slowly, "So you mean to say he's working class? Is that really so very bad?"
"You've got the beazor and the goat. It can't be thought that the likes of him can defeat the likes of our own Maia Violetta. It will give people like him ideas and the whole foundation of our society – all concepts of order and decency and propriety – will go straight out of the window."
Caroline poured herself another cup of tea, sensing that it would be needed. "You know, in the muggle world certain moves have been made..."
"Oh don't be ridiculous, the muggle world is not so very different to our own in that respect."
"Yes, well, perhaps this Mr. Finnegan is just a naturally talented duellist. We should not hold that – or his birth – against him."
"If that is the case, I hope he trains himself and does as well as he can out of it. However, Maia will never have those concerns, she will never be in need of employment, and as I've said before, she may, as Head of House, be challenged to a duel and she must, in all circumstances, triumph. She should never be seen to lose any duel, even her first."
Caroline rolled her eyes, "Then give her lessons, but for goodness sake be nice to her! She's a good girl."
"Of course she's a good girl," said Cassiopeia, "but I shall be as stern as I need to be. She's let her Transfiguration grades slip as well-"
"-she was only four marks off of an 'O' in her last essay-"
"-which means that it's still an 'E'!"
Caroline shook her head, giving in. "Yes, well, I'm going to a meeting for the WI, would you like to join me?"
"Don't be absurd."
Caroline rose from the table, knowing that know that Cassiopeia was wound up, she would be unreasonable until supper. She remembered when she had first met Cassiopeia, and the woman had appeared sickened by the concept of being in the same room as her. Really, they had come a long way in their relationship over the course of the years. And she could sympathise with Cassiopeia's more negative traits. After all, they had had similar upbringings and similar world views, even if they had been applied in different worlds and different contexts. And, thought Caroline with a small smile, she had mellowed with the times and quite liked the increasingly free and liberal nature of the world around her. As long as a guillotine was never installed beneath Nelson's Column and the Square re-named for a revolution, she was not going to complain. That was not, however, the case with her sister-in-law. But, then again, life wouldn't be quite the same if Cassiopeia were not something of a zealot and a battle axe. Truth be told, Caroline rather enjoyed Cassiopeia's rants and quirks.
Not the mounted heads of former servants though, that was just a little too much for Caroline's delicate sensibilities, she thought with a shudder.
Putting on her coat to go to the meeting, Caroline shook her head and smiled. Perhaps Maia ought to learn how to defend herself. And Cassiopeia would enjoy teaching her.
...
A few hours later, Caroline drummed her fingers on the table as Mrs. Talbot-Gower droned on and on about ways in which they could make the next church bring-and-buy sell seem more upmarket.
Really, it was a bring-and-buy sell on the church lawn. There was a limit as to how upmarket it was ever going to be.
Then, the monotony was broken when the door to the church hall was thrown open and Cassiopeia marched into the room. The other ladies looked up, scandalised. They recognised the woman as their newest member's elderly, spinster sister-in-law who, truth be told, was not exactly normal. They were all for modesty in dress, but this woman was practically Victorian and her mannerisms were condescending, at best.
Caroline stood up quickly, "Cassiopeia," she cringed when she saw the other women raise their eyebrows at each other at the admittedly outlandish name, "whatever's the matter? Is Maia well?" Again, the eyebrows rose, although not quite as much this time.
Cassiopeia shook her head quickly. In fact, now that she was closer, Caroline thought that she looked positively distressed.
Cassiopeia looked around the room. Of course, Caroline would want an explanation straight away. Well, she could hardly tell her the details in a room full of stupid muggles. "Maia has had an... accident, at school." She said. "We need to travel to see her."
Cassiopeia rolled her eyes as the inane condolences began. None of these relentlessly middle class women (as Caroline would say) could comprehend the severity of the situation. The Heir to their noble, ancient and aristocratic family had been Petrified. Their very bloodline was in danger.
And her poor niece was in danger, and Caroline had been through so much already...
Cassiopeia dismissed the errant and overly sentimental thought. She had to be practical in a crisis. That was who she was. Caroline dealt with silly things like the emotional well being of others, not she.
The two women quickly left the room and, turning into a side lane, Cassiopeia looked up and down to make sure they weren't being watched, while the questions began to pour forth from Caroline.
"What happened? Is she badly hurt? How did you find out? When did you hear?"
"She was attacked."
A hand flew to Caroline's mouth and she sagged against the wall. Cassiopeia helped her to straighten herself. "Like the other students?"
"Yes."
"So she's..."
"Yes. She has been Petrified."
Then, the rage came. It didn't happen often, in fact, Caroline had only been truly angry three times in her life. The first was during the war, when she had seen a woman robbed of her ration book. The second was when those interfering pen-pushers had drawn their wands on her innocent daughter. The third was just after Marius had died, and she had felt as though the world had wronged her deeply.
This was the fourth.
"You mean to say that they have still failed to find the assailant. That whoever or whatever has been attacking the students has not been apprehended and that insufficient steps have been taken to ensure the safety of my daughter!"
Cassiopeia's face was equally outraged, "It would seem so. And I strongly suggest we let them know exactly what we think of their incompetence."
Caroline all but snatched the letter from her sister-in-law and was only enraged further by the platitudes of the deputy headmistress. Did the woman really have the gall to tell her that there would be no lasting damage once they managed to revive Maia? Was that supposed to be some sort of comfort when she saw the lifeless form of her only daughter?
"I quite agree with you."
Caroline held onto Cassiopeia's arm as tightly as she could. She really hated apparition but she would go through anything for her daughter.
...
The Great Hall was eerily quiet that lunchtime. The Slytherin second years – all of them – were oddly pale faced and red-eyed. Though they were not the only ones; most of the snakes looked drawn and grey. If they, Slytherin's own students, were not safe, then who was? If the Heir to one of the most aristocratic families with the most ancient of bloodlines was not safe, then who was?
It was a sentiment echoed by most of the staff and students.
Professor Snape had even gone so far as to hold a meeting in the Common Room before the beginning of lunch. This was almost unheard of. Professor Snape never spoke directly to his students unless he absolutely had to.
If nothing else, it pressed home the gravity of the situation to all who dwelled within the walls of Hogwarts.
Ernie Macmillan was the lone badger at the snake table, and nobody dared to comment. Every now and then a fresh tear, which he could no longer fight back, would spill over. In one fell swoop he had lost both his cousin and his best friend. Daphne squeezed his hand, trying harder than ever not to cry herself. Bertram passed her a handkerchief, whilst putting a comforting arm around Queenie's shoulder.
Draco's plate was empty in front of him. He made no move to touch his food. He stared forwards, unseeing, as if he had been Petrified by shock.
Albus Dumbledore suddenly sat up straighter and put down the goblet of pumpkin juice, over which he had previously been brooding. Professor McGonagall frowned at him, and he whispered something that made her pale.
"The wards have been breached."
Fighting down the panic as to who could be attacking the school, she was about to stand and order the students to the safety of their Common Rooms when the doors to the Great Hall swung open.
Of course, was her first thought.
And I can't say I blame them, was her second.
Cassiopeia Black stormed down the middle of the Great Hall, wand in hand already. Her movements were sharp, angular and bordered on violence. Her eyes blazed and not a hair was out of place. Caroline Black followed close behind. Throughout her life she had been known for her elegance, her sedate manners and her easy temper. The last person who had seen her in such a state of wild fury was Amos Diggory, and he had definitely come off worse in that confrontation.
Albus Dumbledore rose and bowed in greeting. The Blacks were known for their tempers and he had no desire for this to turn ugly if it could remain civil. The children were all distressed enough as it was. "Madam Black, Mrs. Black, perhaps you would like to accompany me-"
"Hold. Your. Tongue." Snarled Caroline, "And explain to me, right now and in great detail, how," she waved the letter violently, "this could have happened. And I suggest you emphasise the parts which might persuade me not to instigate legal proceedings. Or worse."
Dumbledore coughed, "Of course, I understand that you're distressed-"
"You. Are. Not. Answering. My. Question."
The cousins looked at each other. They had always thought that Cassiopeia was the most terrifying woman on earth outside of Azkaban. Suddenly, they were all re-thinking this assumption.
"And might I remind you," snapped Caroline, "that I am not accustomed to being kept waiting."
Sighing, Dumbledore turned to Cassiopeia, "Madam Black, in the interests of the security of the rest of the students-"
"-You mean the students who by sheer luck and not by your competence remain un-Petrified?"
Dumbledore's pale blue eyes looked around the room sadly. It was a low blow and a very true one. However, it was Cassiopeia who he needed to speak to most urgently. Caroline could be kept waiting.
"Yes, those very students. Could you tell me how you managed to get past the wards? Through the gates, I believe?"
Dumbledore remembered Cassiopeia Black very well from her time as a student, then a prefect, and finally Head Girl. She was calculating, had a ruthlessly mean streak and could be dangerously deceptive. To her, all human interaction was a game and an art form.
He saw that in her now; he recognised that gleam in her eye. She saw him as her prey and she wanted to destroy him. She wanted to destroy him verbally, physically, psychologically, metaphysically, magically...
"And if I do, will you answer my dear sister-in-law's very pertinent questions?"
Internally, Dumbledore sighed again. Her voice was sickly sweet, overly polite and laced with venom. He knew very well that she had probably been playing poor Caroline for years, and that the woman probably had no idea. In Caroline's mind, she was probably the team mate, or even the leader, in this interaction. Dumbledore knew better. Poor Caroline Black was just a muggle who was out of her depth, and poor Maia Black was just a child who knew nothing else. Cassiopeia was his problem within the House of Black. She was the one he had to deal with.
He nodded his agreement.
Cassiopeia flashed him a smile that seemed to bare her teeth more than anything else, "Very well, then. I blew them up."
...
Comments on the Cassiopeia/Caroline relationship would be especially appreciated, as I'd really like to know what everyone else makes of it. : )
I also hope that you think I've got the tone right, and kept everyone in character. Let me know what you like and what you think I can do better!
Thank you for all the reviews that I've had so far.
