Chapter 33: Of Prizards and Plans
Thousands of miles away, a prizard -a priest who happened to be a wizard- had just finished celebrating mass. He pondered on the letter he received, telling him to lay low as he sent his parishioners home. Things were going south since the werewolf incident. He really thought he would die or worse… become a hybrid himself. He respected powerful beings, and werewolves were among the most potent hybrids that could perform magic while retaining their freakish inhumane strength and durability. True, they didn't keep all their human traits, but still. If they had been appropriately studied, he was sure there would be a way to help them keep those missing consciousness threads too. That werewolf had seemed like he kept a better hold of his humanity than other werewolves he had barely escaped in the past.
Charles O'Brien was his cover-up name. He missed his real one. After all, his family was historically relevant to both the muggle and the magical world. The name Țepeș was not as known, but in his home country, Romania, it was feared by many. His great great great great grandfather Vlad III was a hero to his nation and became internationally known as Vlad the Impaler or with the sobriquet* Dracula after his father Vlad Dracul which meant Vlad the Dragon, Prince of Wallachia. His forefather had been a member of Societas Draconistarum of the Order of the Dragon. The order was a chivalric order for selected nobles or monarchs founded by the King of Hungary then, who later became a Holy Roman Emperor. Its initiates were required to defend the cross and to fight all enemies of Christianity at the time, especially those dreadful Ottomans. All the nonsense from Bram Stoker about his book being loosely based on his ancestor was… let's just say loosely was not an accurate or complete description.
Charles sat down on his bed. He needed to go back to England to finish what he started. No one could understand his need to get the truth out. Multiple beliefs and streams of consciousness could coexist in one person. Those narrow-minded people who thought you either believe in God or you don't were missing the point. In such a vast universe, all the knowledge that humans had was just one single grain of sand in a never-ending beach of unexplored information. Throughout his life, he had seen too many instances where secrets only harmed people. Non-magicals needed to know magicals existed. They needed to learn how to co-exist. He picked up the phone and called a travel agency. He hated flying the muggle way. Apparition was much more convenient, but he was told to lay low, and he would. His orders didn't say he couldn't move. They just said not to call attention to himself. He made a mental note that he needed to get pills to avoid motion sickness… Stupid airplanes.
Martin thought he was a strong, resilient person. But he had no clue of pain until now. Physical therapy was a bitch. He had decided to allow himself some curse words every now and then because he found them cathartic. When he had been thrown into the wall at the restaurant, his brain shut off to protect him from the pain, and he lost consciousness. As soon as the dosages of medication were spaced out, he knew horrible aches that would stay for days at a time. Every stretching or contracting of his now small, stiff, and weak muscles and ligaments was excruciating. The worst part is that he would need months of physical therapy and restorative exercise to regain the ability to stand and learn how to walk again.
The MRI had shown that the reason for his numbing was that his sciatica was so inflamed that every time he tried to move, the nerve would be pinched, and he would feel electric shocks down his legs all the way to his toes. The doctor had suggested a surgical approach, but Martin didn't like the idea. He took comfort on the fact that his aunt was now with him (how he had missed her!), and that everyone was doing their best to help him. Draco had stayed true to his word. He would come every single day to just spend time with him or to support him through his therapy. The child was like a restorative balm to his soul. It made him wonder if he shouldn't just give up religious life and build a normal life with a wife and a family of his own. He liked the dynamics of families. However, that was a decision that he had to contemplate for a long time. It wouldn't be something he did on a whim. But when he saw Emma and Dan being their usual in-love selves and saw how Sirius and Remus completed each other's sentences effortlessly, he felt… left out. He had never felt that way before. Was this the male version of the biological clock that women were warned about? He sighed as he finally managed to lift his arm to his shoulder level without taking a break. Perhaps his body was telling him something. Maybe it was his soul.
"Mr. Shaw, we are going to start with your legs today, alright?" the therapist said with a smile.
Martin nodded. He began doing as the therapist told him while his mind wandered back to the letter. The Pope's letter had him a bit… shooketh, as Emma would say. His Holiness told him to consider his future. To think about what he wanted for himself in twenty or thirty years. The Pope knew better than most that to give up on a 'normal' life was. He too had lost his entire family in his youth. John Paul the II had become ordained in 1946 and had been the youngest bishop of Poland after that. His ascent was quick. Six years later, he became the Archbishop of Krakow. The unfortunate death of Albino Luciani (John Paul the First), just thirty-three days after being elected Pope, meant that a new conclave had to take place.
Karol Wojtyła had no idea, at the time, that he would be the man chosen to lead his church. After all, like he had written… How could he have known? At the time, the names that were the loudest for election were Giuseppe Cardinal Siri (a conservative Archbishop from Genoa), and Giovanni Cardinal Benelli, (a liberal Archbishop from Florence). However, when the conclave took place, it became evident that neither of the two candidates would get the necessary votes for victory. Thus, Karol was proposed as a bit of a compromise candidate. Despite this, he won the election on the eighth ballot of the second day of voting, winning 99 votes out of the 111 electors. Martin had seen videos of a younger Karol curiously accepting the election. The new Pope had said something along the lines of "With obedience in faith to Christ my Lord, and with trust in the Mother of Christ, and the Church, in spite of great difficulties, I accept."
Father Martin couldn't even imagine the weight and the pressure of being told you are now Pope. To lead an entire church with over one billion members was too immense a burden for him to comprehend. He didn't mean a burden in the negative sense of the word. All priests are called to serve, no matter at which level. Technically, every priest should be prepared for the remote possibility of one day becoming a Pope. Martin realized he was nowhere near close to being ready for that as he read the letter. The continuous tons of pressure Popes were under to make the best decisions possible every day was astonishing. How he wished he could have been a fly on the wall when John Paul the Second was told he had been chosen.
"Good job," the therapist said as Martin grimaced in pain. "Now try to do this. Go slowly. I will count you down."
The man began modeling a motion, and Martin started to imitate the therapist slowly. His mind kept drifting away.
Karol had been 58 when he was made Pope. Martin marveled at the enormity of it all… To be the youngest Pope in 132 years… what an incredible responsibility. In his letter, the Pope stated that he chose the name John Paul II for himself in honor of his predecessor, Pope John Paul I. Martin pondered how it made complete sense to name himself like that since Karol didn't even want to be Pope just like him. In the letter, the current Pope explained how John Paul I had said he did not want to be elected, and that he would decline if elected, but, once he had been elected, he felt an obligation to accept.
The Pope wrote to Martin about how a Cardinal from the Philippines had told John Paul the First that he would be the new pope in what would become an accurate premonition. When Cardinal Villot asked Luciani if he accepted his election as Pope, he had replied, "May God forgive you for what you have done" but accepted, nonetheless. When the Cardinal who had the premonition paid him homage, John Paul the I said: "You were a prophet, but my reign will be a short one." Martin had to wonder if, perhaps, some non-magical people did have what Lady Greengrass referred to as The Eye. And if they did, why would Luciani accept the role if he knew he would die so soon after?
Martin puffed between repetitions of his workout. He would have been too intimidated to name himself after one of the most beloved Popes. He knew that John Paul I was called Il Papa del Sorriso (The Smiling Pope) and, most shockingly, he was also called Il Sorriso di Dio (The smile of God). How do you even begin to follow that? He thought. But John Paul the II had done everything one could possibly do to be of credit to his name. The man had multiple talents. He was a polyglot. He could speak Polish, Slovak, Russian, Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Ukrainian, English, and Latin. Naturally, in some of those languages, he was more fluent than in others, but he could communicate. He had two doctorates and was a professor of moral theology and social ethics. He spoke out for religious freedom while the church began the Second Vatican Council, which would revolutionize Catholicism. He had worked hard for years to end communism, even with the threat of violence. Martin had read a biography of the man that mentioned a historical interview in which Karol had been asked if he was scared of retribution for being openly outspoken against the communists. He had replied, "I'm not afraid of them. They are afraid of me."
What a courageous man! Martin thought he would have probably run. He had run. Leaving his church had been a cowardly act. It filled him with shame. He wished he was as strong as his Pope. He was a very particular man: smart, witty, charming, grateful, respectful, and open to the beliefs of others. He had advocated for religious freedom many times when the topic was taboo for clerics. Martin frowned as a stretch made him see stars. He took a deep breath and repeated the motion. He still remembered how, when he was a boy, his aunt showed him a younger John Paul the II on the telly. When little Martin saw him kiss the ground of a country he was visiting, he turned to his aunt and asked why the man did that, she smiled and replied that he did it out of respect for the country and the earth. That notion would stay with Martin for years.
"Great job Mr. Shaw. Take a 10-minute break. I will be right back," the therapist helped him sit back down and left quietly.
Martin reached out for a cup of water, but his arm was tired. Right away, Draco was there handing him the glass. The boy would usually wait outside while he was in therapy.
"Here," Draco smiled and helped him put the glass to his lips. Martin's arm was shaking.
"Thank you," Martin smiled.
Draco put the glass back and brought a towel and pressed it against the priest's face to pat it dry. Martin thanked him again.
"I'll go get Mrs. Granger, she wants to talk to you," the boy said and walked away after Martin nodded with difficulty.
His mind went back to the letter and how it talked in length about obligations and secrets, sacrifices, and tough decisions. Martin felt, after reading it, that the Pope, who was in a sense his boss, was giving him permission to leave clerical life if he thought he would be safer and that he could help and serve from a different position. Martin was touched by John Paul's concern and authentic apologies. The Pope even offered him a different job if he decided to stay within the church. He would bring him to the Vatican so Martin could help him find those who conspired against their leader and to bring to light the issues they had been hiding for a long time. However, he said he did not want to hear from Martin until he had recovered and so the priest was working hard through the pain. He could only decide once he was feeling better, and he wanted to make that tough decision as soon as his recovery would allow him to do so.
Hopefully, he would be released from the hospital in the next few days. He hoped the little elves could help him get stronger faster. Their food would certainly help. He was done with the diet the hospital had him on since the surgery. He knew Emma was trying to convince his doctor to release him sooner. Hopefully, she would succeed. As soon as he finished that thought, she came in with a brilliant smile.
"Hey"
"So?"
"We're going home tomorrow!" Emma squealed and gave him a gentle hug. Martin sighed happily. He felt his life was restarting. He would do better and be better.
In the beautiful Potter Manor library, Daphne was being told off by her mother after she had finally come clean about seeing what would happen at the restaurant and keeping the information to herself. Both Ianthe and Daphne were so angry their hair was floating and emitting sparks. Ianthe's sparks were multicolored, and her hair did intricate patterns as it moved through the air.
"Why would I tell them?! They are not my family!" Daphne had a bout of angry magic that pushed her mother a step back.
Lady Greengrass got red with rage. Her daughter had never dared to push her away. It didn't matter that they did not share blood with their hosts.
"I did not raise you to be like this, Daphne. Why didn't you say anything?"
"Did too! You told me that all that matters in life is family! They. Are. Not. My. Family! You said not to scare people when I am not sure… And I am never sure, mother!"
"That was before we were attacked! Anything you see now is too important to keep quiet! I can't believe you kept the omen to yourself! You were sure enough to keep your sister and yourself home, weren't you?" Ianthe said in an exasperated tone. "These people have been nothing but kind to us! They have shared their home, their food, their potions… everything with us, Daphne! How am I to look them in the eye knowing you could have saved them from attending? They got hurt! All of them! We could have prevented that! I am very disappointed in you. If you didn't want to tell them, you should have told me!"
"They wouldn't have believed me anyways! They would have thought I am a freak!"
"It would have been worth it!"
Daphne's eyes widened, and she gasped. She felt pain constricting her little heart like she had been physically struck. Her eyes filled with tears, and she ran out. Ianthe cursed. She shouldn't have said that. It would take a long time for her daughter to even speak to her again. Tobias had been a wonderful husband and father, but Daphne inherited his pride and his ruthlessness. She didn't forgive often, and she was very resentful. Ianthe sighed. Due to her daughter's slight, she would need to look for a place to live and to back away from the alliance. What Daphne had done, or failed to do, could have cost them a life debt.
Hermione had been reading as she walked to the toy room. She had somehow memorized the routes of the house to be able to walk them while reading. It was as if her feet knew where to go while her brain was lost in a book. She hadn't had any accidents until today. Hermione couldn't have prevented it because it all happened too quickly. Something or rather someone crashed against her. The impact made the person push the hefty tome into Hermione's stomach, making her unable to breathe for a few seconds.
Harry ran into the scene and skidded to a halt when he saw the tangle of limbs. He had felt the pain from the crash. He pulled each girl up carefully.
"What happened? Are you girls okay?" he asked as politely as he could.
Daphne began sobbing and couldn't speak. She slid down the wall, hunched over, and covered her face with her hands. How unbecoming!
"I don't know. I think she crashed into me. I was reading, so I wasn't paying attention, but she was running," Hermione sat next to Daphne and started rubbing little circles on her back as her mom would.
"Um, do you want me to go get your mom?" Harry offered.
The girl shook her head and looked up at them in fear. Harry looked at Hermione and frowned.
"Do you want someone else's mom?... or dad?" Hermione asked softly, smiling at Harry who had sent feel-good energy to her now less sore tummy.
Daphne took a shaky breath. "I h-have to talk to L-Lord Black."
"Of course," Harry said with an encouraging smile. "I'll go get him."
Sirius was doing much better. His blood replenishing potions were almost gone entirely. Remus was helping him make a shared list for the second alliance meeting. They were in Remus' cottage. Everyone had given them their lists, and they were compiling similarities and disparities into one list. Emma would have been the perfect person for this, but she was busy helping Martin, and no one would dare ask her to stop caring for him to solve an… administrative issue of sorts.
"What about the no brutal preventive force thing?" Remus asked, putting his wand on his chin pensively.
"Whose list is that?"
"The Greengrass list, I think. But we said we wanted to do this anonymously, love," Remus reminded Sirius. The idea to go in blind was so that no one would judge other alliance members.
Knock, knock, knock.
Remus and Sirius looked at each other. They were not expecting anyone. Both grabbed their wands and were quite shocked to find a bashful Harry outside the door with Jonsy a few steps behind him.
"Harry, what are you doing here? Is something wrong, Jonsy?" Sirius said in a worried voice. Harry shook his head and shrugged.
"Masters, I apologize. Scion Potter insisted this was very important. I know children should not leave the property without a human adult," Jonsy blushed.
"But you still brought him… why?" Remus asked.
"Because my young mistress insisted," Jonsy lowered his head, expecting to be told off.
Remus and Sirius shared a look.
"Jonsy, there are some elderberries in the backyard. I heard you like those…" Remus offered. The old elf had perked up at this and nodded. "Well, feel free to take as many as you wish."
Remus waved his wand on a rock, and it turned into a weaved basket. The elf grabbed it with a smile and took off.
"Come here, kid. Give us a hug," Sirius opened his arms, and Harry jumped in. After a good squeeze, Harry raised his hands to Remus, who held him as well.
"What happened?"
"Um… I am not sure… You see… I was drawing in the toy room… I felt Mione got her tummy hurt, so I went to find her. Daphne was running somewhere and crashed into Mione… So they were a mess on the floor. Then I helped them up, but Daphne couldn't tell us what was wrong because she was crying a lot."
"Did you tell Ianthe?" Remus asked.
"No. I asked if I should get her mom. She said not to tell her and looked very scared. We asked if she wanted us to get another mom or dad, and she said she needed to talk to Uncle Sirius," Harry was also expecting to be told off.
Sirius was taken aback. "Ooookay. Sounds like Sirius business," he winked at Harry. "Love, tell Jonsy to meet us at the house when he is done. I'll join you in the study as soon as I can."
"Honey, I want to help you… but I can't if you don't tell me what's wrong," Emma said as she caressed Daphne's hair. Hermione had gone looking for her mom.
"You can't help me! I have embarrassed my family name! You wouldn't understand, you muggle!"
"Hey, you take that back! My mom understands everything!" Hermione wouldn't tolerate such disrespect.
"Hermione, do not yell at her, she's lashing out because she is hurting, aren't you honey?" her mother asked politely. Before she could further question Daphne, Sirius came in holding Harry's hand.
"Scioness Greengrass, you asked to see me?" he bowed.
Daphne scampered to her feet and bowed low. "Yes, Lord Black."
Sirius frowned. When someone bowed that low, it had a meaning. He was confident Daphne knew that. "What did you do?" he asked in a teasing tone.
Daphne stood straight, and rivers of tears fell down her reddened cheeks. "I have s-shamed my f-family. I have been d-disloyal to yours. I throw m-myself at your mercy and accept whatever f-feud or punishment you want me to endure. Please leave Astoria and my m-mother out of this. This was just my fault."
Emma was perplexed, and she looked at Sirius with apprehension. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing... A child accepting a feud? What the bloody hell had happened?
"Scioness, your mother is not here. Would you like to proceed?"
The girl nodded. "I shall have Doctor Granger, Harry, and Hermione as our witnesses. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, Lord Black."
Ianthe heard Sirius' question as she approached the scene from the hall. Why would he question her formally without her mother!?
"Lord Black, what is the meaning of this?" Ianthe put her hands on her daughter's shoulders, but Daphne moved away. Both hands on the shoulders meant Lords and Ladies stood in support of their children in any formal matter. This was not something Daphne felt worthy of at the moment.
"Lady Greengrass, my apologies, I realize this is untoward, but I did not call this meeting. Scioness Greengrass did, and I have witnesses that she did not want you involved."
Before Ianthe could say anything, Daphne faced her and said, "Mother, please. I have to do this on my own," the girl shook, trying to keep her voice from breaking.
"Do what?"
"Scioness Greengrass is throwing herself at my mercy because… she did something bad?" Sirius said in a questioning tone.
Daphne nodded. Ianthe looked flabbergasted.
Sirius went on, trying not to laugh. "She has also accepted any feuds or punishments I see fit but has asked me to keep you and Astoria out of whatever this is…"
Lady Greengrass looked positively ready to kill at that. Daphne lowered her head in shame.
Emma looked at Sirius in reprimand. He had his fun already, and the girl was distraught. "Ahem."
Sirius cowered a bit when he heard Emma. "Why don't you tell me what you did so we can sort this out?"
"She will not. In my authority as Head of House Greengrass, my daughter is exempted from this, and I shall take her place for everything this may entail."
"Mother, NO!"
Ianthe waved her hand and Silencioed her daughter, who was furious at this. Hermione and Harry held on to Emma's legs as she caressed their heads soothi2ngly. Emma couldn't move. She was too interested in this procedure and all the formalities.
"Lord Black, I need you to know that I had no idea about this until today. Daphne came clean to me today. If I had known, I would have made her do the right thing," Lady Greengrass sighed.
"She came clean about what? This is starting to sound too grim," Sirius said, crossing his arms.
"Scioness Greengrass has The Eye," Ianthe said slowly. Daphne collapsed to her knees and cried intensely at this.
Sirius repeatedly blinked under raised brows. "The Prophetic Eye?"
"Yes."
"And this is a bad thing because….?"
"She saw what would happen at the restaurant and didn't tell you or me," Lady Greengrass knelt and pulled her daughter to her arms. The girl stopped fighting and cried even more. "We could have prevented you from going there and getting hurt."
Emma was pale. Harry and Hermione looked at each other in confusion.
Sirius looked at Emma, asking her silently what to do. She looked at Daphne with sadness and pity.
"Scioness Greengrass, look at me," Sirius requested.
The girl turned and looked at Sirius with red-rimmed eyes and a heart-broken expression. Her lip quivered. All Sirius wanted to do was to hug her and tell her to forget about it, but his role made him stop.
"You are sorry for what you did, right?"
She nodded.
"You feel bad about the fact that people got hurt, correct?"
She nodded again.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Ianthe opened her mouth to intervene, but Sirius lifted a hand in a halt position. He removed the silencio.
"I-I d-don't want p-people to think I'm a f-f-freak!"
Harry gasped. His heart broke. In half a second, he was on the floor, hugging Daphne. "You are not a freak! Do you hear me?!" he put his small hands on her cheeks, looked deeply into her eyes and repeated, "You are NOT a freak! Okay?" Harry looked over his shoulder at Sirius. "Uncle, tell her! Emma, please tell her!"
Ianthe looked a bit shocked at Harry's forceful reaction. He was usually quite a calm and collected child. She looked up at Emma, who was fighting back tears. Sirius was pale. He took a deep breath and began.
"Scioness Greengrass, I Lord Black, Head of House Black, have decided what your punishment shall be."
Ianthe looked alarmed, and Daphne looked terrified but resigned. Harry looked dismayed. Emma and Hermione were too shocked to do anything. Sirius crouched in front of Daphne and lifted her face with his index finger.
"You shall never ever again call yourself a freak, so mote it be."
There was a collectively held breath released, and Harry jumped into his godfather's arms. He then went to stand by Hermione.
"Daphne, you did not ask for this gift. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to see scary things in your mind at your age. I think I speak for everyone when I say that I forgive you... I just ask you to let us know next time, alright? If we can prevent people from getting hurt, we should try to do so, okay?"
Daphne looked at her mother in shock and nodded. She then did something she hadn't done to any male adult in the house. She hugged Sirius and cried into his neck. The marauder sighed. He hated it when kids were sad. It tugged at his heartstrings both as a person and as a dog. He returned the hug and stood up with the girl who was refusing to let go of his neck. Something told him she wasn't just crying about today.
Ianthe looked at him apologetically. He waved her off. He accioed a seat and let the girl cry on him until she calmed down.
Emma had pulled the kids away.
"Lord Black?"
"Yes?"
"Can I call you uncle too?" Daphne pouted. "It's just… I really miss my daddy."
Sirius' heart melted. "I would be honored, Daphne."
At this point, Ianthe could no longer stay. She had to walk away to cry her eyes out in private.
Remus was having a cup of tea in the study at the Manor. He had come with his boyfriend but didn't want to intervene in any official House Black business. He didn't have a right. He sighed. He wished he could marry Sirius, but magic laws were both sexist and homophobic. The door swung opened. A distraught Ianthe came in, bawling her eyes out and collapsed into one of the chairs with less grace than he had ever seen the proper Lady display. He had been standing by the stained glass window, rearranging the final list in a hierarchical order of importance, and she was so emotional that she didn't see him.
He cleared his throat. Ianthe jumped off the chair and got in a defensive position.
"I didn't mean to scare you," Remus said softly. It always stung when people were scared of him when he wasn't dealing with his furriness.
"No, I-I… Excuse m-me. I d-didn't even k-knock," she said in between sobs.
"What's wrong? Can I help you?" he offered, approaching her slowly.
She looked very conflicted for a while. "I d-don't think so. I w-wouldn't want to imp-impose."
"You aren't."
"I… Do you know mind magic?" she asked with a stirring of hope.
"Yes."
"Can I show you something?"
He nodded. He lowered his shields a bit, and Ianthe projected an image into his mind.
In a large study, a younger Ianthe had her head cushioned by her husband's thigh. He braided and unbraided her hair slowly as they talked. Remus couldn't hear their conversation, but he could almost feel their love for each other. The next scene showed Tobias sitting behind his wife on a bear rug in front of the study's fireplace. They weren't talking. They were breathing in tandem, quietly, enjoying each other's mere presence. His arms were wrapped around her, and his legs were framing hers. Her head was tilted into Tobias' neck, and she sighed contentedly.
Remus couldn't help but smile sadly. When he thought of losing Sirius permanently, like Ianthe lost her husband, the pain was too big to imagine. Ianthe covered her face with her hands.
"I just miss him so damn much," she whispered in a devastated tone. "It hurts so much… All the time. I thought it would get better, but it just hurts more every day. Sometimes I feel like I can't even breathe!" she sobbed. "He was so good with our girls. He was more like them. They got each other. I know I am f-failing as a mother. I am just so angry at life!"
Remus sighed. For such a woman to admit that to him… pretty much a stranger was a lot to take in. "Ianthe… I don't really know what to say… I feel like anything would be little comfort. Can I do anything at all to help a bit?"
She looked pensive for a while. "This w-will be w-weird. And you don't have to say yes…"
"Tell me."
"Can you h-hold me? Like he used to?" She looked up at him with pleading eyes that held so much anguish that his own eyes filled with unshed tears. "Please," she whispered.
Remus didn't answer. He just transfigured the room as best as he could to look like their study. Moony even added the bear rug and helped her sit down. He then sat behind her, encircled her in his arms and just let her cry. Remus knew Sirius wouldn't mind. First, Remus had never been attracted to women. Second, both he and the man he loved understood earth-shattering loss. That is precisely how Sirius found the two about an hour later. Padfoot opened the door carefully because he smelled both his boyfriend and Ianthe. The sight warmed his heart. He had been looking for Ianthe to talk to her about what happened, but couldn't find her. Remus was still caressing Ianthe's hair as she cried silently. He had the world's best boyfriend soon to be husband. Sirius promised himself right then and there that he would do whatever he had to do to change the laws or trick the system into accepting their union, but he would marry that man. He needed to write to King Nagkrat.
"Hey, Neesy, how are you feeling?" Narcissa walked into the kitchen. "How is your leg?"
"Ready for duty, mistress," the little elf gave a short jump to prove her legs were perfect. She appreciated Narcissa's kind gesture of enquiring after her health. "How can I help you?"
"Do you know if Emma is back?"
"Yes, mistress. Missy Granger is in her husband's get-well room," the elf replied, whisking a potion in a giant cauldron.
"What are you making?"
"Blood replenishies and pepper uppies… we be run out," Neesy pouted. "We can't be being unprepared for next times."
"I think it's wonderful how you keep all the inventories of this manor under control. I'd be crazy trying to keep track of it all," Narcissa chuckled.
"But you isn't being an elvesie… We has a special brain cabinet for that," Neesy pointed at her head.
Narcissa smiled. "I am sure you do. If I can help you with the next batch, please let me know."
Neesy gaped but nodded with a shy smile.
As she walked towards Mr. Granger's room, she saw Draco, Harry, and Hermione drawing Martin some cards. She was really proud of her son. Like he had promised, he had been in the hospital every day whether Narcissa went there or not. He would go with whoever was going. Martin would always light up when her boy came into the room. The priest was a great influence on Drakey. She wasn't that keen on the religion part, but Draco was much more calm and confident while at the same time he was humble and more willing to help everyone and to put other's comfort and wellbeing ahead of his own. Lucius wouldn't even recognize his son anymore. Narcissa was glad.
However, she still felt like she didn't have a place in the manor. Once again, she felt like a kept-woman… like she did with Lucius. Emma was the end all be all, the true mistress of the house. The elves adored her. Tolanthe would give her anything she asked for, no questions asked. Everyone went to her with her problems, and somehow, she managed to multi-task and help everyone while staying in a loving marriage, being an exemplary mother, and a great friend. To top it all off, she found time to exercise and keep fit. Narcissa often wondered if non-magicals were given more physical energy or better time-management skills by their god to compensate for their lack of magic.
"Cissa! Hi!" Emma hugged her. She smells fantastic too, Narcissa thought.
"Hey…"
"I was just looking for you," Emma smiled. A perfect smile, of course, showcasing her straight, pearly white teeth, Narcissa sighed.
"You were?"
"I was. Is everything okay?" Emma frowned at Narcissa's sad expression.
"Tell me your good news first," Narcissa replied.
"How do you know it's good news?"
"You are radiant and smiley," Narcissa smiled.
"Aw! Thanks! Martin is coming home tomorrow!" Emma squealed.
"That's great news, is he completely recovered?"
"No, but he will finish recovering here… I was looking for you to see if you can help me plan a small welcome home celebration. Nothing fancy, just some food, drinks, and music."
Narcissa nodded but looked down. Emma frowned.
"Sirius told me all about your marvelous hostess skills and since Draco cares about Martin so much… I was hoping you would want to be a part of this…"
Narcissa still said nothing.
"Ooookay. What gives?"
"Huh?"
"You. Tell me. What is going on? You are sad. You are not engaging with me, and I want to know what is happening so we can fix it," Emma squeezed her right hand.
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"This. You are always everything for everyone, and I have no idea how your 24 hours in a day are the same 24 hours the rest of us have. Now us magic folk, we have time spells and artifacts… like time turners that allow us to go back, but you don't have anything like that, right?"
"No, we don't have whatever that is… I guess I just like to keep busy and to be helpful," Emma shrugged but looked a bit affronted.
"I wish I was more like you," Narcissa whispered.
"More like me? Why? You are a badass witch," Emma nudged her friend with a teasing smile.
"Yeah, but you don't have magic. And yet, look at you. You fight wizards. You talk to magical creatures, and they see through your eyes. You have an incredible family, a wonderful husband, and you look like the models in the billboards we saw in London!"
Emma's eyes widened, and she laughed. "Cissa, you just made my day. I do what I can. I am trying to make the best of a complicated deal… When we brought Harry and a stray dog home, we had no idea it would cost us our home, our normal lives, our faith, and almost our lives."
"I don't know how you manage it all."
"Well, I did have to quit my job to keep up… I am blessed to have a hardworking husband who supports my dreams and ambitions. He has had to work even harder so we can afford my not working. While we are living here rent-free, we are paying for security upgrades on our house, preparing a place to be my private practice and saving money for Harry and Hermione's education," Emma sighed.
"But why, though? Harry has enough funds to live lavishly seven lifetimes, and he would still be wealthy," Narcissa chuckled.
"How do you know that?" Emma blinked rapidly.
"The Potters were one of the most outstanding and powerful of the thirteen Most Noble and Ancient families. You don't get that title if you are poor. Lucius envied James his entire life. He wanted to be that rich, that influential, and that charming. The Malfoys came from France and were quite rich, but they are not old money like the Potters."
"I see… Well, regardless. Dan and I see it as our responsibility as parents to give our kids everything they need within reason. That is why Sharptooth sealed the minor vault for Harry until he goes to a magical school. We don't want to live off the Potters."
"You are great people. Others would jump at the opportunity of never having to work again."
"Oh, we could never do that. We grow too restless when we are idle. I guess that is why I keep so busy. But stop stalling. Why are you sad?"
"To make a long story short… I feel out of place."
"Where?"
"Here."
Emma blinked repeatedly, trying to understand Cissa's meaning. She gave up. "I'm not following."
"You are the true mistress of this place. Elves adore you. The house obeys you without any questions. Everyone comes to you with their problems, and you work things out. I am starting to feel like I did with Lucius."
Emma gasped at that. "What?! How?! Am I making you feel bad?"
"No, you only make people feel good… Emma, I was a kept woman. No one would say that to my face, but I know they think that. I was Lucius's trophy wife. Nobody called me a gold digger because I come from old money, but still. I could feel the way other high society women who had careers looked at me. They would only talk to me about fashion and parties and makeup and… any time I asked about their businesses, they would dismiss me or tell me I wouldn't understand. I didn't have a career because Lucius didn't allow me to… I am not stupid…" Narcissa sat down and covered her blushing face with her hands.
Emma was stunned. She had no idea. Since the doctor was always busy, she hadn't realized Narcissa spent all day just idly looking after Draco or reading. They still didn't have electricity so she couldn't even watch TV.
"Oh my God! I am such a horrible friend, Cissa! I am so sorry… I've been so busy that I didn't have time to realize how non-busy you are. You must be bored out of your mind! First of all, you are not stupid, and those witches are bitchy bitches. Screw them!" Emma smirked.
Narcissa blushed. "I try to teach the kids things, but I am not teacher material. I don't know what to do with my time… When I was with Lucius, he would keep me busy by rewarding his disgusting friends. The rest of the time, I was either putting makeup and glamours on my bruises or just trying to keep Draco as distant from those sickos as I could."
"I understand…. Cissa, I didn't ask for your help with the party to make you feel less. Not at all! I am a decent hostess, but I am not a party person, and we will have magical people here, so I am entirely out of my element."
"I know you meant well… I just don't know what I want to do. How can I even start?"
"Get yourself a fairy godmother!" Emma looked like the cat that got the milk.
"What?!"
"Yeah, like in the fairytales?"
"Huh?"
"You probably have different fairytales, nevermind. What I mean is to get yourself a mentor… people you can train under in areas of your interest… Sometimes it is easier to scratch off the things you don't want to do rather than to choose what you are interested in. You know teaching is a no go for you. Think about other things you could never do," Emma smiled. "Let's make a list!"
Narcissa laughed. Emma loved lists. "Okay, so no teaching, no laws, no money counting, no sewing."
"Okay, how about cooking?"
"You mean potion making?" Narcissa lifted a brow.
"No, I mean cooking like making food. When we went to Diagon Alley, I noticed that there weren't many options for restaurants or diners. You could be a chef," Emma mused.
"I don't think so…"
"What about potions? I mean, you brought them up…"
"I do like that and healing magic, but to study to become a healer, you have to start fresh out of school because it takes too many years."
"Tell me about it. It's the same for doctors. What about potions then?" Emma sighed.
"There isn't a school for that… You have to be good enough to convince, almost beg, a Potion Master to take you on as an apprentice. But I am only truly proficient at simple household potions and basic healing draughts. No one would take me on because I would be a liability to their business and their name if I end up failing. Also, I haven't really opened a theory book in years," Narcissa groaned and sat next to her friend.
Emma had been progressively smiling wider and perking up as Narcissa talked while looking elsewhere. Some people weren't good at seeing the obvious. "Cissa… Severus is a Potion Master, isn't he?"
Narcissa's eyes widened, and she blushed. "U-Um… Yes."
"And he is not your perfect candidate why?!"
"Because…"
"Because what?"
"Because I think I… may… possibly… l-like him," Narcissa stammered.
Emma jumped to her feet and squealed louder than Narcissa had ever heard her do so before. She pulled Cissa up and tried to make her dance along with her, albeit unsuccessfully.
"Goodness gracious! I am sooooooo happy for you!"
"Don't be. I am not happy for me."
"What? Whyever not?"
"Because it will never happen. He is always going to be in love with Lily Potter… and I… I am too problematic. Now that he is his former self, he can date anyone."
Emma gaped. "Whoa! Wait a minute! You. Are. Not. Problematic! You have a past. So does he. You have both decided to be better people. You have both suffered a lot. I don't see why he wouldn't be thrilled to date you, doll," Emma reasoned.
"You don't understand, Emma... Sev knows everything. He saw me be given to many men to do with as they saw fit. He saw me debase myself in ways I can't even speak about… He was actually one of the men that were rewarded with my body for his actions, and he refused to touch me. He could have done whatever he wanted with impunity. All he did was let me sleep and feed me. He never said anything to me. He never asked any questions… One of the times that I went to his place, I had been dosed with something that lowers inhibitions, and as soon as we were inside his house, I began to do as I was instructed to do. I tried to touch him, to undress him. He pushed me away as if my touch burnt him. He looked terrified and disgusted," Narcissa bit the inside of her cheeks to avoid crying.
Emma's expression was of absolute empathy and zero judgment. "Cissa… I… Look, during one of the physical therapy sessions, we got to talking about you. He told me about that… how you were given to him as a reward… Even under all those potions and spells, he was a decent man who cared about you. He saw you were drugged and being compelled to reward him. He felt horrible. He told me how he saw in your eyes that you expected him to be like all the other men who used and abused you. That he had never felt so low."
"He did?!" Narcissa looked up with genuine surprise.
"He did. He has never judged you. He has only tried to help you, to be there for you and for Draco… Cissa, if you decide to give this a fair shot, you have to understand and accept that Lily will always be in his heart. Think of him as a widower. That should help you. His love for her was too significant to just move on from it. He hasn't been in any sort of relationship since then, has he?" Emma asked.
"No, he hasn't," Narcissa shrugged.
"That doesn't mean he can't love again. I can't tell you more about what he told me. He did so in confidence… I just want you to know that this Severus, the one we have now, is a kind, respectful man, who cares about you and your son, and who would never ever force you to do anything you don't want to do."
"I know that… I just… It will look bad. My divorce was just finalized. I shouldn't be dating anyone."
"Oh, forget about what people will say, Cissa! Why would you care? Have any of your so-called friends reach out to help you or Draco?"
Narcissa shook her head.
"Then screw them! The people who care about you know what you have been through. We will not judge you. We will support you in whatever makes you happy. And you know what else? Dating is not permanent. Maybe you two date and it doesn't work out. You guys are friends. You will figure it out…"
The witch seemed dubious.
"But think about it… what if you date and it works? What if it's awesome? What if the two of you are meant to be together?"
"But then he shouldn't be my mentor because it would look like I…"
"Slept your way to the top?" Emma asked with a frown.
Narcissa nodded with a blush.
"You wizards and witches seem awfully too concerned with gossip for people who never see each other. So what if you date while you are working together? You two are consenting adults who can do whatever you want as long as the two of you want to do so. Cissa, I know you were raised in a patriarchal family, but you are a strong woman who will soon be entirely independent, as such, no one can tell you what you can or cannot do. Not your ex, not Sirius, not Severus, definitely not Draco… and not even me. You are your own person, doll. Do what you think will be best for your well-being and happiness."
Narcissa pulled Emma into a tight hug. "You can always tell me what to do, sister."
Emma laughed, "You may regret that! Cissa, if you are unsure of your feelings, or about what you should do… go at it slowly. Figure it out. Maybe start by just learning and working with Severus. I am sure that if you ask him to mentor you, he would love to do so."
"I will do that. Thank you, Em," Narcissa squeezed her tightly. "I'll go find him."
"Just be mindful of his feelings as well. He is a good man. Don't string him along unless you mean to actually want to give him a chance. I think he's barely recovered from Lily after all these years. If he has another strong heartbreak, he may not try ever again…"
"But-"
"I don't mean you have to pressure yourself to be with him to spare his feelings or his ego. All I am saying is that if you want to try to be more than friends, you actually have to put in the work. Things may not be perfect, but that doesn't mean they're not worth it. Everything truly significant is worth effort, intention, and time," Emma smiled.
Narcissa nodded. "You are the best."
"I try. Oh, by the way, your first therapy appointment is next Monday at 1 pm. I'll wait for you outside. I just don't want you to get lost. And I also thought we can go change your hair after that…" Emma wiggled her brows. "New hair helps with life transitions."
"I'd like that. I'll have galleons exchanged into pounds."
"Sev?" Narcissa asked as she knocked on the man's door.
Eileen opened the door. "He is taking a walk, dear, but do come in."
Narcissa looked conflicted but went in anyway, "Thank you."
"Can I help you?"
Narcissa blushed. "Um, I don't think so. I was just coming to ask Severus if he could train me."
"Train you?" Eileen lifted a delicate brow.
"Yes. To become a Potioneer… or at least try," Narcissa suddenly felt uncertain at Eileen's unexpressive face. It had taken quite a while for her to gather her courage to ask him.
"Oh, that is wonderful!" Eileen smiled. "Sharing his knowledge will make him feel useful. He truly loves teaching."
"I hope I am not too much of a bother. I know Severus is a prodigy. I am not. It's not like I think I can become a Potions Master. I would be happy if I could just get a job making basic potions to have a source of income."
"Are you struggling? Financially, I mean…"
"No, my husband was forced to give me half his fortune and to hand my dowry back. Even when he had spent most of it, the money is enough for quite a few years, but I want to use that money to pay for Draco's education, not for me."
"I understand. You are a proud woman. That is good. Do not allow any man to make you lose that… I am sure my son will be happy to help you," Eileen said. She then winked and added, "If only to spend more time with you."
Narcissa blushed scarlet. She stammered, "I-I am not… Morgana! I should go."
"Wait! Narcissa, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I see the way he looks at you. He really cares about you. When Lily died, I thought he would die with her. Seeing him excited about life, wanting to move on gives me hope that he can one day be happy. I am his mother. That is all I want for my son. You know how it is… You can't blame me for wanting such a fabulous daughter-in-law either, huh?" Eileen nudged Narcissa, who blushed further.
"That is v-very kind of you. I should go…" Narcissa pretty much rushed out before Eileen could say more to mortify her. As she hurried down the hall to her room with confusing thoughts, she ran into a sweaty Severus who was back from his walk.
"Hey," he smiled. "Were you looking for me?"
"Um, yes… but… I… Nevermind. It wasn't important. I should go talk to Neesy about dinner," she turned to leave.
Severus grabbed her wrist delicately. She froze.
"The kitchen is this way," he pointed behind him, "Are you okay?"
She paled.
"Did you talk to my mother?"
She nodded. Severus grimaced as if in pain.
"Please disregard anything she said to you. Merlin! She is getting on my nerves."
Screw it, she thought. I should at least try. "Disregard it… Okay. So you don't want to spend time with me?"
His eyes widened in shock, "W-W-What?!"
"That's what she said," Narcissa shrugged and looked away.
"What else did she say?"
"Well, it doesn't matter, does it? Since I should disregard it…"
"NO!" Severus exclaimed, taking her other wrist softly. "Don't! I-I shouldn't have said that until I knew everything she said."
Severus had this habit of caressing the back of her wrists with the pad of his thumb. He moved his thumbs slowly and so tenderly that she almost couldn't feel it at all. But she did feel it—a lot.
"How about we talk after you shower… Not to be mean, but you stink," Narcissa smiled and crinkled her nose.
He nodded with a blush and walked away briskly.
"Neesy?" Emma asked.
"Missy Grangy! How can I helps you?" the elf was entirely recovered.
"I am glad to see you are much better."
"Yes, I be doing elf magic on Master Doctor too. He should be being better by tomorrows," Neesy smiled.
"I know, sweetie. Thank you… Do you remember Martin?" Emma asked, sitting down on the kitchen table, and motioning for Neesy to join her.
"Yes, how is Rosarys man?"
"He is coming home tomorrow. I was wondering if you can help me."
Neesy nodded with enthusiasm. "What should Neesy be doings?"
"Well, I want us to have a small welcome home celebration. I don't really know what wizards or witches serve at parties… or what needs to be bought. I was wondering if you can give me a list so I can go shopping."
"No, Missy Grangy, no needs to do a list. Small garden party? Formal tea party? Dinner gala party?"
"Nothing fancy, I think a barbecue could work…"
Neesy looked confused. "What is a ba-bi-cue?"
"Barbecue," Emma repeated slowly. "Well, we put a grill outside, grill burgers, some meat, mashed potatoes, serve a build your own salad… A few fizzy drinks for the kids. Perhaps some wine and firewhiskey for the adults. One of your beautiful, healthy desserts."
"How many peoples?" Neesy asked.
"Well, everyone in the house. We are also inviting the tutors and Neville, of course. I would love for all of you elves to join us, but you would need to let me know what to buy for your food and drink," Emma added.
"Thank you, Missy Grangy. But if we joins the party… who is servings you?"
"Ourselves. One of the men will probably grill. All we would have to prepare in advance are the salad ingredients, the mashed potatoes, and whatever you and the other elves want to eat."
"I is liking this barbecue party. Everything will be being readys."
"Check with the families' elves, so we include what each family likes."
"Yes, mistress," Neesy nodded.
"Will you come shopping with me? In your human disguise? Some things I need we would have to get in London."
"Missy Grangy, can someone else be going? I is still scared of London…" Neesy's bottom lip quivered.
Emma smiled in understanding. The tribute they held for the elves had been a few days ago. "Of course, I'll find someone else… Don't you worry."
Knock, knock.
Narcissa jumped on the balcony chair. She had been watching over Harry, Hermione, and her son while they played with their jump rope.
"Come in," she said, with certainty, she did not feel.
"As you can see, I am now clean. I am a bit confused because my mother said something about you wanting to work for me?" Severus looked really puzzled.
"No… I mean… I was wondering- and you can totally say no- because I know it's a liability to your name and all… I just-" she shuffled where she stood.
Severus interrupted her. "Why don't you tell me what you want me to do for you before you unilaterally decide that I can't help you?"
Narcissa blushed prettily. "You are right. Sorry."
"It's alright," he sat on the free chair next to her. "Tell me."
"I have been wanting to get a job…"
"Yes, you mentioned that…"
"Can you please not interrupt me? It's been tough for me to gather the courage to even dare to ask you…"
He nodded solemnly and said nothing.
"The two things I am most interested in doing are healing magic and potion making…"
He blinked and stayed silent.
"But I am a practical woman. I know there is no way I can do all the training to be a healer at this point, especially not at my age…"
She looked up at him to find him frowning. Her courage faltered, and she turned her chair to face a bit away from him. "I-I would like to try to become a potioneer… Um, I know I am not a prodigy like you… or Lily. But… I told Emma that I wanted to find a mentor and how I thought it was impossible because Potion Masters rarely take mentees… And then she made me feel a bit stupid when she asked me if you were a Potion Master… She asked me why you weren't the perfect choice…"
He blinked repeatedly and stayed quiet.
"I am only truly proficient at healing and household potions. I would never assume that you would risk your reputation by taking me on as a student because I would be a liability to your name if things go wrong…" she trailed off looking down.
Severus crossed his arms with a frown. Narcissa was quite ready to be told she was crazy to think he had the time to dedicate to her. He still didn't speak.
"Please say something," she whispered, fighting back frustrated tears. "I knew I shouldn't have asked. I offended you. I'm sorry… You know what? Forget I said anything at all."
"Narcissa, I didn't say anything because you asked me not to interrupt you. I wasn't sure you were done talking."
She colored. "I am done talking."
He turned his chair, so they were facing each other again. "I have so much to say that I don't even know where to start…"
"You don't have to let me down easy… just say no. It's okay. I understand…" Narcissa looked down.
"Narcissa, listen to me like you asked me to listen to you. No interruptions, okay?"
"Okay…"
"First of all, you are not too old for anything. Second, thank you for the compliment. I have never thought of myself as a prodigy. I just found something I liked to do early on and kept at it. Lily was much better at it than me. She had a natural talent. I studied a lot. It was her who taught me not to follow the book all the time. To do what I knew worked better, not what the author said..." he sighed. "Third, Emma was right to ask you that. I don't understand why you weren't even considering asking me."
"I didn't want to make you feel awkward about having to say no…" Narcissa was beginning to hunch over in her seat.
He held up his hand, and she stopped talking.
"Fourth, healing and household potions are a good start. Many Hogwarts graduates never even master those. I hope that now that I am free from Dumbledore's influence I can teach them properly. Fifth, my reputation is not important. Many people still think I am a Death Eater. Now, my name as a Potion Master is respected and trusted as an authority for my contributions to the field, but that doesn't mean you would be a liability… and even if you were, it would be a liability I would love to take on," he squeezed her cold hand and smiled the brightest smile she had ever seen on his face.
She blushed. "I-I don't know what to say… Really? You will train me?" she took his other hand.
"I'd be honored to do so. If you really want to be a potioneer, I am sure you will accomplish it, and I wouldn't rule out a Potion Mastery if I were you. I believe in you, and I will help you get there… if you want me to," he gave her a shy lopsided smile.
Narcissa stood up, pulling him with her and hugged him with all her strength. Deep inside, Severus felt like broken pieces of his heart were coming together with that hug, which he returned a bit more gently. He didn't want to scare her. Narcissa sighed happily. After a few seconds, Severus knew he should let go, but he didn't want to, and she wasn't letting him go either. He smiled. He could get used to this.
As if reading his mind, Narcissa whispered, "Emma told me that healing hugs have to last twenty seconds at least."
"Really? That's interesting…" he whispered back. He felt a bit daring, so he kissed the top of her head. He felt her smile against his chest. "Um… Narcissa, about what my mother said…"
Her heart was racing, "Yes?"
He took a deep breath. He had to be brave. He could almost hear Lily's sweet voice chastising him: Tell her already! "She was right. I would love to spend more time with you."
Narcissa's stomach did somersaults. Now or never, she thought.
She looked up with a tentative smile and shining eyes, "I would really like that too, Sev."
He looked down and kissed her forehead. Both of them closed their eyes and sighed contentedly. In the garden, Draco stared at his mother and godfather with a hopeful smile. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but both of them looked happier than they had in a long time. I knew it! I knew he loved her! Draco thought happily. Harry and Hermione giggled, love scenes like that made their bond tickle.
Emma went out to the garden to call the kids inside for tea time. Draco rushed to hug her. She welcomed the hug but was a bit surprised until he whispered to her ear, "Look up."
Emma looked up and had to restrain herself from jumping in joy. Draco was still hugging her neck "I don't know why I know… and I don't know how you did it… but I know you did that, Mrs. Granger. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I love you!" the boy kissed her cheek and ran inside.
Emma smiled indulgently at the little wizard with a happy sigh. She knew she didn't actually do it. But she was always glad to help cupid. Narcissa and Severus deserved a fresh start. Emma went inside and kissed Draco's temple as he washed his hands on the kitchen sink. He was standing on a stool. "I love you too, sugar."
Draco smiled brightly and went back to washing his hands. With each passing day and all the love and affection from everyone in the house, he was thinking of his father less and less. He was becoming more grateful, more humble, and more empathetic. He remembered Professor Longbottom saying that plants needed love and attention to grow healthy. Draco thought that children did too. He was going to be a very healthy boy. With this new development, his young brain began daydreaming of all the beautiful possibilities. If his godfather married his mother and became his father, perhaps Martin could be his godfather then. He would ask the priest. Draco could hardly wait to see him and tell him how happy his mom was.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Two more chapters to go! Thank you for joining me on this journey. -Lux-
*I have always loved the word sobriquet. For my language nerds, /ˈsu brəˌkeɪ, -ˌkɛt/. A sobriquet is a nickname, sometimes assumed, but often given by another and quite descriptive. It differs from a pseudonym; it typically is a familiar name used in place of a real name without the need for explanation and that it often becomes more familiar than the original person's name. For instance, did you know that Genghis Khan's real name was Temüjin? It is similar to a papal or pontificial name. Non-Catholics may have no idea that the current pope's name is Jorge Mario Bergoglio. Pope Francis is just his papal name.