The Heiress of the Famous House is introduced!

It seemed that the entire issue of the Daily Prophet was devoted to our family. A huge article by Skeeter, who delightfully painted the reception, the guests, the treats, and our family as a whole. Of course, I was given special attention. I couldn't figure out how Rita managed to avoid the sensitive subject of my parents, but she made it sound like I was a very promising sorceress and that she was going to keep an eye on me.

I liked the picture on the front page. I may have a somewhat haughty look, but there I was turning my head slightly and smiling. Grandmothers Druella and Walburga approved of this picture, too.

Ada!

I read the article, is that really how it happened? Congratulations! If I understand correctly, being an Heir is awesome.

Just as I thought, it's awfully boring without you, and Draco, and Hermione. Ron constantly beats me at chess and chats about Quidditch. Thanks for the book, by the way. It's terrific.

Harry

P.S. I was given an invisibility cloak. The note said it was my father's, do you know anything about that?

In response to this letter, I copied the pages about the Peverelles and Potters from Nature's Nobility, attached it to The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and sent them along with the letter.

Harry!

Thanks for the congratulations! Be strong and be patient, Ron sometimes shuts up (when he sleeps). Holidays will be over soon and we'll be back.

About the cloak. I can ask one person. Potters may well have had the cloak, I'm sending you the books that say so.

Adara

P.S. I was given a horse! A real, live one! He is so cool!

My introduction to the raven frieze was closely watched by Pollux and Cygnus.

- Don't go near him from behind, - Cygnus warned me.

- I'm not stupid, - I said, keeping my eyes on him.

- You're not stupid, - Pollux said. - He's calm, don't be afraid. And he still has no name.

I gently stroked the horse's head. He looked at me with intelligent eyes. My gaze fell on the ring on my hand.

- You're Obsidian, - I called the horse. The horse snorted. - Do you agree? - I grinned. - Good.

- He's been waiting a long time for that name, - said Cygnus.

- Is it a magic breed? - I offered the horse an apple.

- A quarter, - said Cygnus, patting Obsidian on the rump. - He understands us.

- He does, doesn't he? - I asked the horse. He snorted.

- Shall we go for a ride before Arcturus sends you to your finances? - Pollux suggested.

- Sure, - I brightened, and stroked Obsidian again.

HHHHHH

- You should have seen him, - I told Regulus excitedly, - black as night, but so kind! He never flinched, and walked very smoothly! He's wonderful!

- I see, - uncle rolled his eyes, - you love him.

I nodded.

- I realized I didn't get you anything, - Regulus said suddenly.

I was momentarily confused.

- So I can take your portrait back to Hogwarts with me? - I asked.

Regulus shook his head.

- Why?

- Listen, - Regulus ruffled his hair, - there's a trunk in my room.

- And in it is a hare, - I continued, - and in the hare is a duck, and in the duck is an egg! With this egg I can make my own breakfast!

- No! - laughed my uncle, - Merlin, only you could think up such nonsense!

- It's folklore, actually, - I snorted, - A trunk?

- Yes, - Regulus nodded, - There're my notes for 7 years at school in it. I thought you might need them.

I stared at him in fascination.

- You are the most wonderful uncle in the world! - I exhaled.

- Only dead, - he grimaced.

- Nobody's perfect, - I countered.

I sorted through the notes. I stowed the high school courses away, dragged the first courses back to my favorite living room. There were only five days left until the end of holidays. My schedule was settled.

I woke up at eight-thirty, had breakfast with grandma at nine. Classes with great-grandpa Arcturus from ten to one o'clock. Lunch with great-grandparents. Horseback riding with Draco, grandma Druella, and grandpa Cygnus from two to four. For another hour or so I said goodbye to Obsidian. Then a five-o-clock with grandma. And then I was off to my living room, where I chatted with Regulus.

As I began to read the Charms outline for the first time, I was greatly surprised.

- What is it? - Regulus noticed my bewilderment.

I pulled out my own notes. I picked up his ones and held them both up to his painting.

- Wow, - Regulus grinned.

- Yeah, - I grinned.

We didn't just have very similar handwriting, we had almost identical handwriting. The only differences were in the details.

- What kind of spell did you use to staple your notes together? - I looked at the patterned spine with interest. - My notes were stapled by Burke, and he has a good spell, but he can't get a spine that pretty.

- I can teach you, - Regulus suggested, - It was my friend's idea, and I liked it, too, back in the day.

- Come on, - I immediately agreed.

Cansandy

You're not a sewing machine, but you're not bad either.

- 10 mana to activate it.

- Who designed it? - I wondered, admiring the beautiful spine of the notebook.

- Barty, - Regulus said reluctantly, - Barty Crouch Jr.

I bit my lip.

- The one who died in Azkaban?

- The one who was killed in Azkaban, - Regulus corrected me sharply.

- Killed? - I asked him again. A change in the canon, maybe?

- He didn't appear in his portrait after he died, - my uncle explained, - and that could happen if the soul...

- You think dementors drank his soul? - I understood.

No, there's probably nothing wrong with the canon. It's just that Regulus didn't know that Barty was alive. He'd only heard the official version of his death.

- And Barty Sr. seems to have lost his mind, - said Regulus thoughtfully. - Grandmother Charice, his mother, who's from the Blacks, says he took all the pictures off the first floor so no one would bother him.

Because Barty Jr. lives on the first floor.

- Merlin, I didn't approve of many of Barty's actions, but I never wished him dead, - Regulus ruffled his hair.

- Were you and he good friends? - I asked cautiously.

- He and I were like you and Draco, - Regulus sighed.

I went to the train station with the Malfoys. Aunt Ida was off on some kind of expedition.

- Be good, - Narcissa admonished us, - Adara, especially you.

I rolled my eyes.

- I'll be a true Lady, - I grumbled, - at least I'll try.

- Make us a favor, - Lucius grinned.

We found Neville and Hermione quickly.

- Hello, - we said as we entered the compartment.

- Hey, - Hermione exclaimed, - Neville told me already! Congratulations! That's good, right?

- Thanks, - I nodded and collapsed on the seat.

- It's hard, isn't it? - he asked sympathetically. He must know how hard it was.

- I think I need to take a course in accounting, - I said, - and Management Basics. Considering they don't teach those courses in the magical world, I should learn them in the muggle world.

- Really? - Hermione was surprised.

- For the last few days, my great-grandfather had been putting huge stacks of our family's financial records for the previous years in front of me and ordering me to sort through them. He'd explained how to do it, of course, but I couldn't do everything by analogy. I need to understand what I am doing and why, not just add up the totals.

- I didn't realize it's so complicated, - Hermione shook her head.

- You know what the worst part is? - I looked at her.

- What?

- There are no calculators in the magical world, - I said mournfully.

Hermione patted my shoulder sympathetically.

Potter was sitting in the Great Hall, staring thoughtfully at the fire in the fireplace. Ron stood next to him with a frown on his face.

- Hi, - we said.

Potter nodded without taking his eyes off the fire. Ron was really excited and pulled us aside.

- Talk to him, - Ron asked me.

- What's wrong? - I frowned.

- He found some mirror, and he saw his parents in it, and now...

Oh, shit! Why did I need 29 Intellect when I was forgetting such important things?

- What kind of mirror? - Hermione began her interrogation.

I walked over to Harry.

- Ron said you found an artifact.

- Ron's making a big deal out of it, - Potter brushed it off.

- I don't think so, - I shook my head, - what was it?

- The Erised mirror, - Harry spelled out, - When I looked in it, I saw my mom and dad, my grandparents, my family.

- I see, - I said.

- What do you see? - he stared at me angrily. - You're alright! The Heiress of the House! The pride of the family!

- And everyone says my dad killed my mom, - I grumbled, - My mother's side of the family want me to live with them so much that they don't even care what I think. My great-grandfather on my mother's side tried to legiliment me, which might have fried my brains altogether. I am the pride of my family and the Heiress of the House, but my "all right" is very, very relative.

Potter had the decency to look ashamed.

- Artifacts made from mirrors are quite dangerous, - I went on.

- Why? - he chuckled.

I pulled the Foe-Glass, which I always carried in my pocket.

- There's a reflection in there! It's you. It's the Foe-Glass, the artifact that reveals the enemies of its possessor. Those shadows behind me are my enemies. There are four of them, at least. Before I was given this mirror, I lived a peaceful and comfortable life. However, now I know that somewhere there are people who want to harm me. This thought does not leave my mind.

Harry looked at me carefully:

- I think I understand. I've looked at my parents hundreds of times in pictures, their reflections in the mirror. It's the same thing, only a little bigger.

- That's what I mean, - I put the mirror in my pocket, - even regular muggle mirrors have a lot of superstitions, let alone magical mirrors.

- They say if you break a mirror, bad luck will follow you for seven years, - said Harry thoughtfully.

- Exactly! So stop being a sourpuss. Ron's worried. And if I can't do it, he's going to use some heavy artillery. Hermione will find thousands of books about mirror artifacts and dump them on you.

- I think I'll dispense with that information, - Potter grinned.

- Should we call you Lady Tail now? - Burke asked. Flint laughed.

- Very funny, - I snorted.

- I have something to talk to you about, - Morris said to me, - Let's go.

- What? - I asked when we were a fair distance away.

- Did great-uncle really try to legiliment you?

- He did, - I nodded.

Morris almost groaned.

- There is a terrible scandal at home. Grandpa Irwin and grandpa Edmund are threatening to lock great-grandpa up somewhere, grandma Louise is crying, my parents are outraged, aunt Ida has promised to curse great-grandpa with something.

- And you?

- And I was in shock watching the whole mess, - Morris sighed, - it's cool that you were able to spot great-grandpa going to your head. I never do, he's a Master at legilimency.

- Seriously? - I was surprised.

- Yeah, - Morris nodded. - There's no one better than him in England.

I couldn't believe I was a genius at occlumency. Hector Foley was rude to make me notice. The question was, why?

Dear Uncle Remus!

Thank you for your congratulations! It really is very difficult, but I even like it! I named the horse Obsidian, he's awesome, I'll be sure to send you a photo! Harry is doing fine, except we have a question. Someone gave Harry an invisibility cloak for Christmas and left a note saying that the robe belonged to uncle James. Is this true?

Adara

After the holidays, classes became more difficult. Ron, who couldn't manage to bum around, was left completely without mana by the end of the day.

- Why is that? - Hermione asked me one day, - We conjure all day the same, but only Ron can't conjure in the evening.

I had a rough idea why. First, because Ron was level 13. Second, only the standard mana recovery rate, because there were no House benefits. Third, someone else's wand. And the third point I considered the main problem.

Ron honestly admitted that the wand only warmed slightly when he touched it.

- What was your wand made of? - I asked.

- Ash and unicorn hair, - Ron answered.

- So, - I wondered, - Draco, do we have any Artifactologists among our course?

- Bulstrode, - Draco answered, - However, I don't know if they ever made wands.

- But they might have information about the wood and the components, - I shrugged, - if not, we'll look for someone else.

- What do you mean? - Hermione wondered.

The others were intrigued, too.

- The wood and the core of a wand have different properties, and their different combinations produce different results, - Draco began to explain, - Besides, it is believed that wands have their own character and preferences. This is confirmed by the fact that a wand chooses the wizard, not a wizard chooses the wand. So we want to ask for information about the wood and the core from the Artifacting family to understand why Ron's wand is useless.

- How interesting! - Hermione exclaimed, - Could you find out about our wands?

- I could, - I shrugged, - Why not.

- I have a vine and a dragon's heart vein, - Granger immediately informed me.

- Black hazel and phoenix feather, - said Potter.

- Black hazel and dragon heartwood, - Neville twirled his wand in his hands, - this is my father's wand, it listens well to me, but it's not mine anyway, you can feel it. What are your wands made of?

- Hawthorn and unicorn hair, - Draco shrugged.

- Aspen and dragon heartwood, - I wrote down the combinations on a piece of parchment.

- I remember, - Harry suddenly chuckled, - you were stuck in Ollivander's store for almost two hours. Draco whined about it.

- I wasn't whining, - Malfoy said indignantly, - and she was there for more.

- Ollivander couldn't find a wand worthy of my beauty, - I exclaimed pathetically, my nose turned up.

Everyone laughed.

Millie agreed to see if they had any information about wands. I, on the other hand, agreed to tutor her in Charms.

Slytherins are pretty easy to negotiate with, as long as you have something to offer. Just like with the Jews. Speaking of Jews. Anthony Goldstein leveled up and was walking around with a level 18. He was getting annoying.

- Hagrid, - Hermione said unexpectedly. The two of us were sitting in the library. I was studying a book on Magical Law, and Hermione was doing an essay on Herbology.

- What? - I mumbled, keeping my eyes on the chapter on the Statute of Secrecy.

- Hagrid is in the library, - Granger said.

- Really? - I snorted at first, then suddenly remembered. Dragon! I turned my head sharply to where Hermione was pointing, and managed to see Hagrid go into some department.

- Not that I think Hagrid is bad, - Hermione began cautiously, - but he doesn't seem like someone who's into reading.

- Definitely, - I agreed, and rose from my seat. Granger came up after me.

- Hagrid, - we caught up with him on the way out, - Hello!

- Hello, - he said, carefully hiding something behind his back.

- We've never seen you here before, - Hermione remarked.

- Yes... I... come here sometimes, - Hagrid said shyly, - I'm in a hurry. Here.

- See you later, Hagrid! - we told him, and as soon as the giant was out of the library, we rushed to the section he came out of.

- "Varieties of Dragons Dwelling in Great Britain and Northern Ireland," "Dragon Breeding Handbook: From Egg to Hell Beast," "Breeding Dragons for Pleasure and Profit," I showed Hermione the entry on Hagrid's card, - I don't like it.

- He raised the Cerberus, didn't he? - Granger asked cautiously, - Could he...

We looked at each other.

- We haven't been to see Hagrid in a while. - I said briskly, putting the card aside. - Let's tell the boys.

- Right, - Hermione agreed...

- But it's against the law, - Ron said, astonished, as we told them what we'd seen and what we'd learned. - Raising dragons was outlawed by the Wizarding Convention in 1709, as everyone knows. If we breed dragons, the muggles will know we exist! Besides, dragons can't be tamed anyway, and they're very dangerous. You should have seen the burns Charlie got in Romania, studying wild dragons.

- Weasley, you're full of surprises! - Draco exclaimed, - Who'd have thought? You'd even remembered the year!

- Malfoy, - Ron threatened him with his fist.

- It's against the law to raise a Cerberus without a license, too, - I reminded him, - We told you the story about his expulsion.

- I don't think he understands that it's not dangerous only for him, - Hermione said.

- It's called criminal negligence, - I said pointedly. Everyone else's eyes were drawn back to me.

- I've been reading Magic Law all day, - I threw up my hands.

- Let's go check it out, - Neville suggested, - And see if there's anything there.

Unfortunately for the boys, our hope that we were making this up faded as soon as we got to the house. The curtains were drawn over the windows. The smoke was billowing from the chimney so thick it looked like the house was going to fly up.

Once inside, we stared at the fireplace, ignoring the terrible heat. Just as we expected, an egg was gleaming on the stones.

- Hagrid! - Harry groaned, - You've gone mad!

- It's... - Hagrid jerked nervously at his beard, - Guys...

- Where did you get it? - Ron asked, stepping closer to the egg.

- I won it, - said Hagrid, - last night. Went down to the village, sat there... well... had a drink. A stranger came along, wanting to play cards. Although, to tell you the truth, he was... uh... he was even glad that he lost the egg, he probably didn't know what to do with it.

- You do know it's illegal, don't you? - Potter asked.

Hermione, Draco, Neville, and Harry all started to attack Hagrid.

I walked over to the fireplace. The egg was beautiful.

- It looked like onyx, - I said.

- It's a nightmare, - Ron muttered, - Judging by the color of the egg, it's a Norwegian Ridgeback.

- And you know this because?..

- Because I read the books, - Ron muttered, - it's a very rare species, nearly extinct. I don't believe Hagrid could win such a rare egg just like that.

- I don't either, - I said, - Are you sure it's a Norwegian Ridgeback?

I was sure of Ron's words, but his knowledge was really surprising. Ron liked dragons, it was obvious.

- I'm sure, - Ron nodded, - If you stop heating it, the dragon inside will die. We can't let him die.

I frowned.

- Do we have to wait for it to hatch?

- Best of all, - Ron agreed.

- How fast will it grow?

- By the hour, - Ron grimaced, - We could try sending it to Charlie. He's my brother, he works in a dragon sanctuary in Romania.

- Are you sure that's a good idea? If your brother gets caught smuggling a dragon...

- Well, it's not certain he'll even agree to help, - the boy shrugged, - but at least he knows what to do with a baby dragon. We could ask him for advice.

- Makes sense, - I admitted, - You can have my owl, she likes long distance flights.

- Cool, - Ron smiled.

Meanwhile, things were heating up, and not just literally. The negotiations with Hagrid had failed, of course.

- So, - I pounded my fist on the table, - We, as the foremost dragon experts, have been thinking. If we take the egg out now and just wait until the matter is resolved, then the dragon will die.

Hagrid sobbed.

- We're not beastly, especially since Ron is certain that this species of dragon is very rare.

Weasley nodded.

- I think we should write to my brother Charlie, who works at the dragon sanctuary and ask for advice on the situation. We might even be able to remove the dragon there, - Ron echoed my tone.

- But... What about... - Hagrid sobbed again.

- Hagrid, breeding dragons is Azkaban, - said Ron seriously.

Hagrid burst into tears.

Everyone but Ron and Neville rolled their eyes. Ron patted Hagrid on the arm, and Neville sighed.

- Look, - Potter said to me as we walked out of Hagrid's cabin, all hot and flustered, and went to the school, - why did you say you and Ron were dragon experts?

- Because it turns out Ron's really good at it, - I answered perplexedly.

- I get it, - Harry said, - But you?

- Really. - Hermione added.

I looked at them in surprise. Ron laughed. Neville and Draco were surprised, too.

- Ada! - Draco exclaimed, - They don't know!

- Right, - I nodded to myself, - How should they know? I sometimes forget about it.

- So? - Hermione and Harry couldn't help it.

- Blacks are the best dragon slayers in the world, - said Neville, - I mean, they used to be.

- Until they outlawed dragon slaying, it was our family business, - I said. - Blacks were one of the most respected families in the wizarding world, not just England. When the law was passed, the Blacks got a bit... confused, started to lose their influence. We went here and there, but all the economic niches were occupied. We're still looking.

- Blacks are skilled duelists, - Draco added.

- What's the point? - I rolled my eyes. - We were a huge family, and now... Eight old men, one little girl, and one prisoner in Azkaban.

- Your family killed dragons for a living? - Hermione blinked.

- Hermione, a dragon isn't just a huge fire-breathing creature, it's also an expensive dragon heart, many gallons of expensive dragon blood, and a lot of expensive scales, - I listed, - Dragon bone... In short, one dragon is a lot of money.

- I hadn't thought of that, - Granger nodded.

- I don't know about dragon breeding and stuff, - I smirked, - But I do know about killing dragons.

- You said it was against the law, - Hermione said indignantly.

- Killing and knowing how to do it are two different things, - I protested.

The half of the Blacks' Codex is about that. And I should know the Codex like the Lord's Prayer.

In fact, at the heart of this family business was the infamous Dragonrend. Grandmother had greatly subverted its possibilities, requirements, and history. If only it were that simple and ended with killing one dragon! No. Dragonrend himself chose the dragon whose soul he wanted to devour first, and not everyone suited him. In the twelfth century, there was Fomalgaut I, who had to kill ten dragons before he had any luck with the eleventh. Of course, my ancestors figured out that slain dragons could be sold to combine the necessary with the useful. That's how our family business came into being.