A/N: Hello! A few items to cover here before we start in on this ridiculously long chapter:

1. I saw a question repeated a few times in the comments that I wanted to take a second to answer as I can see where there could be some confusion.

QUESTION: Why did the Longbottoms address Agnes as Mrs. Granger? Aren't the Grangers identities supposed to be kept a secret still?

ANSWER: Marius and Agnes were introduced both publicly and privately as the Grangers- Cassiopeia's squib twin brother and his wife, reentering the wizarding world to support their House. Helen, Daniel, and Hermione were given a different introduction, however- they were initially instructed by Cassiopeia to not reveal their family name, and they have been kept separate from Marius and Agnes during the few large events that have transpired to date. As such, it is their identities alone that remain a 'secret'. However, this secret is primarily for Malfoy's benefit (I've dropped a few different hints about future plans that require Narcissa's involvement). It is safe to assume that Arcturus and Melania know what is going on (they do live in the house that the main tapestry is kept), and some of the others may suspect (such as Alphard, who spent Yule at Chateau Black), but no one has directly mentioned it… yet.

2. Apologies for the extra week wait! This chapter was just not flowing for me, and I'm afraid it may show- I'm quite excited to get back to my normal crack fic comfort zone after touching on so many dark topics. There is ONE more chapter about the council after this one and I will be posting it THIS WEEK- it is already written, and originally I had combined it with this, but it was a little aggressive in length.

3. And, most importantly! I appreciate each of you, your time spent reading, and your reviews! Have a great week, and cheers!

"It all began... when I was born."

"Merlin save us all," Arcturus muttered, "Grandson, is such showboating necessary?"

Huffing, Sirius glared across the table. "Aunt Cass, do I or do I not have an allotted hour to tell my story?"

"That is indeed what the case board reads, nephew," Cassiopeia agreed cheerfully.

"There you have it then, grandfather. As I was saying, the Exciting, Marvelous, Suddenly Dreadful tale of Sirius Black began when I was born."

("Did you give him time to prepare for this?" Marius squinted at his sister suspiciously, sighing when she waved a hand in an airy shushing gesture.)

"As the unfortunately inbred son-,"

"Daniel, did he just refer to himself as inbred?"

"-of not one but two members of House Black, I was put through the initial Heirship ceremonies roughly thirty seconds after my first display of accidental magic. Gotta have a viable Heir to show off, even if they are still in nappies."

"It was a good day," Melania murmured fondly, eyes distant. "Your parents had brought you over for tea, and you set your nanny elf on fire when it took away your toy broom."

Daniel frowned. "Did she say good day?"

"Trust me mate, if you met Kreacher, you'd agree," Sirius handled the interruption gamely, winking at Daniel. "The basics of my primary school education were entrusted to a revolving door of nannies, but once the heirship ceremonies were over my mother took a vested interest in providing me with her own daily seminar. A completely ridiculous daily seminar which was mainly focused on what it meant to be Better Than Everyone Else Because of Inbreeding."

"Oh, my god, he's actually talking about being inbred."

"Unfortunately for dear old mum and her brainwashing harpy ways, my absolute hero at the time was dear Uncle Alphie here- professional sports on an international level? Gorgeous babes with accents hanging around all the time when he floo called? Honestly, the weird sweets and tickets he sent home were more than enough to buy my affection."

"I'd jolly well hope so, as much as they cost in favors you cheeky little-,"

"Uncle Alphie had a very different outlook than my mother regarding blood status- well, and pretty much everything else as well. And he wasn't the only one- Grandmother and Grandfather have always had a wand up the arse about House Black's standing among the Sacred 28- er, sorry, Grandmother- but they weren't flat hateful like my mother and Uncle Cyg's family seemed to be. When I was sent to visit, we talked about muggleborns and half bloods representing a threat to our valued traditions, not about them being cockroaches. And I distinctly remember several conversations with Gramps regarding muggles being pitiable rather than disgusting for their lack of magic."

(Pollux colored and hid behind his tea when Marius and Cassiopeia glanced at him with identical surprise.)

"When Regulus showed his first sign of magic, my mother included him in the brainwashing sessions too, and decided it was time to teach us both basic spells. I was best at spells, and Reg was best at memorization, but neither of us pleased Mother because we just weren't perfect enough- she was abso-bloody-lutely convinced that if she pushed us just a little harder, we'd be the powerful scions that she was convinced the union of two strong House Black members would have created."

"Where was your father when this was happening?" Helen demanded, squinting at the sympathetic glances she received from around the table.

"You clearly never met Walburga," Alphard finally sighed. "My sister was always very good at hiding the ugliest parts of herself when conspiring to get what she wanted."

"She very badly wanted to be the mother of the most powerful wizards of the generation," Sirius agreed (rather bitterly, Cassiopeia thought). "But really, it wasn't bad back then. We were a pretty close family- Reg and I spent most of our time with our cousins, we did a lot of business trips with father, and when mother was in a good mood and not teaching she took us out to all sorts of places- Quidditch games and the zoo and stuff. And then I went to Hogwarts, and the sorting hat put me in Gryffindor even though I begged it not to, and things went south.

"Neither of my parents wrote back when I told them about my sorting- didn't let Reg write me either. Instead, they pulled every stunt they could think of to get me resorted. I must have sat through thirty Board of Governors meetings, at least, but when they finally agreed to stick that hat back on my head, the bloody thing refused to switch me. I only sort a person once. I was stuck with the lions, which at the time felt like a crying shame because I'd already managed to piss off half my year. I'd absorbed more of my mother's teachings than I thought, apparently, because I was a pretty arrogant little shit back then."

"Back then?" Lucius muttered. Narcissa tapped the back of his hand lightly and he demurred with a final eye roll.

"Yes, Lucy, back then- I'll have you know I am no longer little in the slightest," Sirius smirked. "Took a couple full out rounds to get our bearings, but by Halloween James and I were joined at the hip and after Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew saved us from detention for our Christmas prank-,"

"Oh god, I remember that. It was disgusting."

"- the four of us became the Marauders. Professional masters of chaos, terror of teachers, charmers of ladies, lovers of chocolate…. The intro is better with fireworks. Speaking of-,"

Cassiopeia hummed consideringly. "Apologies, nephew, but I do believe Melania might risk testing the ward stone and murder me if I let you play with fireworks at the table."

Tipping her glass in her cousin-in-law's direction, the ridiculously stylish grandmother in question eyeballed her grandson fiercely. "I'm sure there'll be no need to test anything, isn't that right?"

Sirius gulped, crossed his legs, and plunged ahead. "Right- well, as I was saying, the Marauders were the best thing that ever happened to me…."

Compared to the questionably grey foundation of his own shaky home life and burgeoning resentment of the principals his increasingly abusive mother had stood for, Sirius's depiction of the boys who had become his family at boarding school was as bright and shiny as a newly established star. He took them through each of their strengths and weaknesses that first year- clearly analyzed to a fault at some prior date, as if Sirius himself had spent a good swatch of time wondering how on earth the four unlikely roommates had managed to fit together so seamlessly.

James, the charismatic leader, certainly spoiled and definitely obnoxious but a natural caretaker.

Remus Lupin, quiet and clever, with an annoying habit for self depreciation buoyed by his absolute loyalty to his friends.

Peter Pettrigrew (a name said with an odd inflection of Sirius' voice), overeager and pacifying, his laziness in class outweighed by his willingness to go the extra mile when asked by a fellow Marauder.

Sirius himself, struggling terribly to reconcile himself with his family but newly enchanted by his ability to put smiles on his friends' faces.

"I'd known my parents were upset when I went home for Christmas, and I knew they wanted to transfer me to Beauxbatons, but I begged them not to. It was my father who finally agreed to let me stay at Hogwarts- stay in Gryffindor. He was comfortable with James Potter being my closest friend, what with his own mum being a Black by blood, and so he decided that he wouldn't send me to France unless I failed to stay in the top five of my year. Mother, unfortunately, didn't share his sentiment." Sirius paused, strain appearing around his eyes. "She thought a physical reminder of what she expected of me might make me capitulate. And when it didn't, she set in on Reg in front of me."

"But that's- That is quite literally abuse. Seriously, none of you did anything about it?" Helen stared around the table in shock, thinking of her own mother, who hadn't even believed in time outs.

"The boys were alive, healthy, well-fed, well outfitted…. Yes, Walburga was harder on them than we would have liked, but we were hard on our children as well, and we thought they were for all the better for it." Melania's hands fluttered around her hair, anxiously smoothing down the bright blonde updo it had been tied in.

"I doubt you ever used an unforgivable in place of a time out, Grandmother."

Melania's breath hissed through her teeth, and there was a shocked murmur around the table.

"Pardon?"

"Repeatedly. It left no marks- preferable, in her mind, and less muggle than putting her hands on us herself." Sirius grinned, but the expression was horribly dark and twisted on his thin face. "Curses, from her or the damned elf- ironically, it's were worse, considering how much the beast hated me. And when it was all over, the cellar, until she wanted to try to change my mind again."

"Sirius…"

"I thought it was normal, and it was the other Marauders who convinced me that that was pretty messed up in itself."

"Sirius…"

"Anyways! Enough of that- let's get onto the fun stuff, shall we?" Like a switch had been flipped, Sirius' face suddenly lit up and he winked down the table once more. "Let's talk about the good stuff."

He's the best occulumens I've seen in the family yet- even compared to Narcissa and Andromeda, Cassiopeia thought with a twinge of real interest, and she made a mental note to reevaluate the lad's suitability as stand-in-parent for a recently orphaned baby. (Also, to invest in an integrated muggle-magical mental health facility- at the rate this family council was progressing, she'd need to check half the family into it.)

Sirius used up the next twenty seven of his allotted minutes telling stories about the Marauders- pranks, Quidditch victories, school rivalries, teacher baiting, and more. He knew how to work his audience, though his cadence did sometimes feel just a hair off beat (likely the influence of weeks spent in close confines with dementors): there were alternating boos from the Slytherin contingent at the table (read: ninety percent of the family), cackling laughter, shrieks of outrage, and captivated silence.

Cassiopeia watched him closely throughout, reaching out with a delicate strand of family magic visible only to herself. It latched onto his chest above his heart, and glowed purple each time he occluded- brighter when he had to work for it, a mere glint when it came naturally.

Six more months in that prison cell, and I would bet he couldn't do this at all, Cassiopeia mused, the idea of a project involving the effects of dementor exposure on magic swirling through the back of her mind and dissolving with a Pip-esque twinge of conscience. Every time he says Pettigrew's name, he nearly loses control as is.

"There were a half dozen of our own creations that helped us cause chaos, and they were all considered top secret. But there was one thing in particular that we kept close to our chest, even after graduation, even after Dumbledore asked us what we could contribute to his Order."

Suddenly, with nary a warning, Sirius' body rippled.

It lasted barely a second, but when it was done, the man himself was gone and in his seat, waving it's long tail, was an oversized black dog.

"Mama," Lucretia said faintly, "There is a Grimm at your table."

"A dog. How…. fitting," Narcissa murmured, eyes narrowed. "I suppose that explains why everyone said the Marauders could break into any space, even the girls dorms if they wanted to."

Another brief second and Sirius rippled back into his human form, grinning like the cat who had got the cream (or, in this case, the dog who'd caught the hare). "Made it into every single one of them but the Slytherin girls dungeon- not worth the requirement of associating with a slimy Slytherin."

Callidora cackled. "You ought to have at least tried- everyone knows Slytherin's dorms are the hardest to break into. Not one for a challenge, were you?"

"But why would you keep it a secret? This is…. This is really quite the feat. And to have accomplished it in school?" Ignatius frowned. "You didn't even disclose during your Auror training?"

"Personal reasons."

Cygnus raised an eyebrow at Cassiopeia. "What, this boy is allowed to keep his secrets when you dragged words out of Wally's throat?"

"Oh, I already know why he did it."

"Wait, what?"

Melania sighed and poured herself another draft of tea. "Madam Calderon's web really does extend quite far, doesn't it?"

"Great nephew, I will give you the choice: you can share the reason you became an Animagus- which, I admit, I have only reasoned out in entirety during this conversation- or I will. The magic behind the family council will prevent the information from spreading outside this room either way."

Sirius met her eyes seriously. "This is not either of our stories to tell."

Cassiopeia shrugged. "In my experience, ignoring important information during the research phase of any experiment tends to be catastrophic."

("Completely," Edmund murmured, thinking of the rather foolish decision he had made not to check a plant for poisonous spurs the week prior, and his sister elbowed him back to silence.)

Sirius simply shook his head.

"Very well then, from me it is." Cassiopeia nodded decisively. "James Potter was a werewolf."

"Wait, what?!"

The clamor and commotion around the table rose to an unprecedented level, and Sirius bodily threw back his chair to stand, laughing as if he were mad.

(He was, of course- as all the Blacks are.)

"Potter was an auror! That would be… that would be illegal!"

"No wonder he married a mud- a muggleborn. Who else would marry a beast like that?"

"Oh Merlin, is that how they beat the Dark Lord? Some weird wolfy ritual?"

"Alright, that's enough," Sirius wheezed, struggling to stand to his full height. "Aunt, James was definitely not a werewolf."

"But then-,"

"Remus Lupin is." Sirius paused, the humor vanishing as he drew himself up to his full height. "And if anyone learns that fact from anyone in this room… well. I'll go back to Azkaban rightfully this time. On my honor, I owe the man that much for the pain I have repeatedly caused him. Caused all of us."

Cassiopeia was staring off into space now, clearly doing some kind of rapid calculation in her head. "I suppose that does make more sense than Dorea not telling us if her family got attacked by a werewolf. I thought perhaps I missed it in a letter."

Both of her brothers groaned.

"Lupin was the top of your class, wasn't he?" Arcturus demanded. "I have the rankings from your graduation posted in my personal study still, and I remember the name. How did the beast accomplish that? How was he even allowed into Hogwarts?"

Ignatius sighed. "Albus."

"Of course the old loon would willingly expose us all to a dangerous creature," Lucius sneered, "Probably thought it was redeemable, considered him a social project."

"And I thought Hogwarts was dangerous enough as was," Harfang sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I wasn't even approached about it, and I'm on the Board of Governors."

Sirius' face began turning a rather blotchy shade of red, and the line connecting him to Cassiopeia turned a nearly blinding purple.

Oh, dear.

Much to Cassiopeia's surprise (and later, during her retelling to Isla, her relief), she was not the only one to notice the building threat in the room.

"Rather biased lot, aren't you?"

Over a dozen faces turned to Daniel in surprise.

"It's a bit off putting to hear you all say the man graduated at the top of his class in one sentence, and to disparage him in the next. Being a werewolf isn't something a person can help, is it? It's not something that affects them more than a few days a month, is it?"

"Well, actually-,"

"Cass," Marius murmured chidingly, but she shook her head.

"No, they need the education- clearly. Because Daniel's not wrong, we're an awfully biased lot." Cassiopeia frowned around the room. "What did you learn about werewolves in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes?"

"How to tell them apart from an animagus, primarily," Andromeda offered. "Ten differences, if I do recall correctly. Additionally, a few of the more effective curses against a moon-hungry werewolf, intended to give us time to escape."

"Anything else?"

Lysandra, hesitant: "They tend to hurt themselves during transformations, and have a shorted expected lifespan as a result."

Arcturus, annoyed: "They can channel some of their werewolf power even without the moon."

"This is all true, however, its an incredibly limited scope of knowledge for the word 'werewolf' to have caused such a commotion at this table." Cassiopeia paused. "Marius used to be horrible afraid of werewolves-,"

"Cass!"

"-because of the horror stories that our mother told us about them. Predators, in every possible way she said. Cruel. Unreasonable. Inhuman. A bogeyman ten times worse than any terror under the bed, because werewolves were real and tangible. But then Marius learned: they were just stories. Real werewolves have as much humanity, as much duality of person, as anyone at this table. It was proven to me in Prague, where I worked with a rather famous gentleman known for his own potions research- spending two nights locked in his personal chambers each month made him no less a scholar every other day of the year. His driving motivation wasn't kidnap and murder, it was to make the world a better place."

"That's who Remus is as well," Sirius murmured appreciatively. "I mean, sure, he's got a book complex instead of a hero complex, but the point is, he's just a wizard. I doubted that once, and my doubt is what killed Lily and James."

"Wait, what?"

"Pardon, that's related how?"

"We graduated. Left Hogwarts, went straight into the war. James and I joined the auror force, Remus wanted to join the Ministry, but werewolves were banned. So he took up a bunch of odd jobs. Peter was taking care of his mum. Or so he said. And we were pretty damn happy, all things considered. We had a big wedding for Lily and James, we were living on our our own and going to the pub every off night, and when Dumbledore asked us to join his Order we were just cocky enough to say 'of bloody course'. The Marauders on the battlefield, back to back like brothers? It was… it was this ridiculously heady image, and I think we all loved the thought of picking up where we'd left off terrorizing Slytherins.

"But then everything went to shit. Started when Dorea and Charles got dragon pox, and it went downhill from there. The McKinnons were slaughtered. The Bones. The Prewetts. All of these families who had pledged their support and their wands to Dumbledore's order. And we all knew there was a spy. It wasn't even hard for Peter to convince me it had to be Remus. That Remus, while undercover for Dumbledore with the werewolf packs, had decided to betray us all. So when we got word that there was some crazy prophecy causing the Dark Git to target the Potters, it ended up being me who convinced James and Lily to use me as a bluff, and to make Peter their secret keeper."

"But you said… all the papers reported."

"My fault," Sirius whispered. "My fault, my fault, my fault-"

It was Alphard's hand cracking across his back that brought Sirius out of his sudden daze, allowed the return of his pulsing, weak occlumency.

"Grandson," Melania reached a hand across the table and very gentle settled it on Sirius' clenched fist. "It sounds very much so like it was not your fault. Maybe you should finish now."

It took another second for him to gain his composure (during which Cassiopeia began calculating the cost of the mental health facility she'd first pondered a half hour prior), but Sirius eventually found his voice. "Peter's fault. He— I don't know why. I don't know how he could… I would have rather died than betrayed any of them- eve Remus! And then, then I thought he was the traitor!"

"Is that why you killed him?"

"Peter isn't dead."

Stunned silence pervaded the table then, till Callidora, scowling, broke it. "Boy, we all read the paper- they found nothing but his finger thanks to your spells."

"No, the papers have been wrong- I felt the wards fall the night that… the night that the Fidelius broke. And I went straight to Godric's Hollow, but it was too late. James…. at the stairs…. and Lily… in the nursery we'd only just repainted… and Harry. He was so quiet- he was never a quiet baby. The best little bloke, but not quiet. And he was… at first I didn't even realize he was alive. But then he… he called for me. And it was all I could do to hand him over when Hagrid arrived, but I agreed to hand him over because I thought, surely, Peter must be dead too, and I thought I owed it to him to at least get him mum somewhere safe if he had…

"But when I got to his mum's, the whole place was boarded up. Empty. Nothing there. And I realized she'd been… she'd been gone for a while already. A long while. So that's when I knew. I just—," Sirius drew in a long breath. "I knew it was my fault. Because I had insisted on Peter. And Peter had been lying to us, about everything, for Merlin only knows how long. He'd used us against each other and done what he could to destroy everything that the Marauders stood for. I couldn't even contact Remus, and get his opinion or help or tell him I am so bloody sorry, because Peter had estranged us from one another so thoroughly that I wasn't even sure where he had been sent. So I went after the rat myself.

"He knew I was coming- I assume he had a plan that involved the Dark Git's protection to hide from us after James and Lily were murdered, but the Potters took the Dark Git out with them, and he apparently didn't have a backup plan in place. So it wasn't hard to find him. But when I did, I didn't even have a chance to demand why he did it before he… before he…

"The clever bastard blew up the whole damned street, and in the confusion he cut off his own finger and transformed into his animagus form." Sirius laughed, long and loud and bitter. "We all should've known not to trust someone who's natural form was a rat."

In the end, Cassiopeia called for wine and brandy to be liberally distributed around the table nearly an hour and a half early. It was necessary after Callidora and Arcturus' rather inspired shouting match over Arcturus' initial lack of family inquiry into Sirius' sentencing sent Lucretia into a dead faint.

("I thought he'd been taken by the same madness as his mother!"

"Any madness that may or may not run in this family remains the responsibility of the Head of House!")

Pip had been rather firmly of the opinion that these over excitable witches and wizards (and squibs and muggles too) needed a nap to calm their nerves, but her mistress had been rather insistent that there was no time- and as Pip was hardly going to put a stop to her mistress' insistence on following a timetable, she found herself instead wheeling a rather large beverage cart around the table in circles as Cassiopeia called for the next topic.

"On November 8th, the newspaper alerted me to this family's rather… varied… involvement in the Blood War. Murder, betrayals, lies, infighting…. Most embarrassingly of all, barely any of our younger generation was contributing any research developments to society whatsoever, and had instead chosen to tie themselves to two arrogant men who told them what to think and believe without any facts or reasoning." Cassiopeia raised her nose disapproving at the lot of them, her censure skipping over Andromeda and Ted and the Grangers alone, before continuing. "However, there is one benefit to this unseemly behavior that we can capitalize on today. You've heard Sirius' story, and despite the efficiency of this ward stone, you may still have your doubts. Who better to verify the truth than a man who would have loved to see him waste away in Azkaban, guilty or not?"

A quick swish of her wand, and topic C fell uncovered. "Lucius Malfoy- please tell your side of the story."

Narcissa Malfoy took a slow, deep breath as her husband's name was called, occlumency walls snapping into place.

Lucius met her eyes for the briefest second, a secret smile just for her purpose, then stood with the smooth fluidity that had first drawn her eye to him on the Quidditch pitch over a dozen years ago. "I first met the Dark Lord as a child- he was invited to a dinner party comprised of like minded people, and it was there that he first demonstrated his…. Strength… to those who questioned where he came from or how he had become so powerful."

They'd expected this- it had, after all, been mentioned in the letter of summons she had received at tea the day prior. There had been more than enough time to convene in Lucius' study and discuss their approach once Draco was put to bed, to provide him with the proper incentive needed to behave himself during this council. His very attendance had been an agreement to perform at her Head of House's whim.

"He began courting myself and several of my House mates- only those of us from the best families- in the summer between our fifth and sixth year. It was the Lestranges who first took me to an official ceremony, and who sponsored me when I received the Dark Lord's mark."

But Narcissa was still anxious. How could she not be, knowing that Lucius' words could very well drive yet another wedge between she and her remaining sister?

Narcissa was really enjoying playing dress up with a metamorphmagus. Even the mud- even her sister's husband's dry wit had grown on her, though she'd never admit it.

"... and by then, it was also clear that the Dark Lord found my political acumen and deep pockets to be my most prevalent assets to his cause. I became a member of the inner circle a week before Narcissa and I's wedding, and…"

Narcissa's eyelashes fluttered, the tiniest crack in her otherwise smooth, icy countenance. Beneath the table, a smooth hand that slid into her own, and to her left a set of lips identical to her own quirked reassuringly.

It was amazing how far the Black sisters had come.

"As a member of the inner circle, I was privy to two pieces of information that support the mutt's story."

"Oh, very clever, Lucy."

"First: there was indeed a prophecy, delivered by one Sybill Trelawney during her interview with Albus Dumbledore and overheard by another member of said inner circle. Second: the Dark Lord paraded a so-called 'double-agent' through our number at a revel three weeks prior to the Potter family's deaths. Their features were kept magically cast in shadow throughout the event, so that we could not know them at site- however, I can personally attest that the double-agent's height, their mannerisms, and their voice could not have possibly belonged to Black."

"Could you describe the perpetrator with any accuracy at this point in time then? There's no clear proof here that it was Pettigrew, we don't know-,"

"With my…. Sister-in-law's….. Help…. I can show you my precise memory."

Narcissa squeezed Andromeda's hand once, briefly.

"However, it should be known here that my account will not be considered admissible in court."

"What? Why?" (Narcissa sighed internally at Helen's question- it amazed her how differently things clearly transpired in France, that she would need to ask such a thing. After all, the woman was incredibly bright- she must have read the papers.)

"Because the bastard was cleared of all charges excepting a few hefty fines thanks to the money he dumped in the Minister's lap so she'd believe that he was under the imperius." Ignatius's lips twitched downward and his heavy brows drew together on his forehead. "You ought to be-,"

"I'll remind you, Cousin Ignatius, that what is spoken of in the family council is held sacred, and cannot be spoken of outside these walls by any other than the Head of House." Narcissa smiled, eyes positively glacial.

"Tosh! We are legally responsible to report this!"

"Legally responsible? What about morally?" Edmund murmured, looking rather uncomfortable in his seat.

"Legally or morally responsible you may feel, but magic would disagree with your ability to act on such feelings," Cassiopeia said, steel in her tone. Narcissa watched with appreciation as the older woman drew herself to full height at the end of the table, left hand settling over the ward stone and wand at ready in her right. "I will not tolerate your slander or your interference with them now, when I have already determined how they shall make amends to our shared society!"

The Malfoy matriarch blinked once, twice, three times. Lucius, under the guise of crossing one long leg over the other, was tapping her foot incessantly, but she was not quite sure how to cue him.

I have already determined how they shall make amends to our shared society.

More unknowns, then. More evenings spent plotting and scheming in front of the fire. More interaction with her maiden House, which she had pledged to serve even after her marriage into House Malfoy.

I have already determined how they shall make amends to our shared society.

Her sisters fingers caught in one hand, her husband's in the other, Narcissa Black Malfoy straightened her back and pointed her nose up into the air with a familiar haughty smile.

Things were going to be alright.

Cassiopeia did not announce topic D when she flipped over the letter on her case board- instead, she waited for the family's reactions to the two words on the back of the parchment.

Dorea's grandson.

"You mean…. You mean Harry Potter?"

"The Potter boy?"

"Location kept safe is what he said, innit?"

Only three around the table remained perfectly still and silent: Arcturus, Melania, and Sirius. Different reasons, of course, Cassiopeia thought as she rose carefully to her feet and sent the case board spinning. All the same, it's likely a good thing I asked Pip to keep a special eye on those three, in case of any adverse reactions.

The case board spun three times before falling still once more, this time depicting a single photo of a small family: a bride with long red curls and a groom with a crooked grin, the pair positioned behind a low garden bench from which an older couple sat beaming.

The Potter family.

The Potter family before, as Sirius had said, everything went to shit.

"My younger sister left this photo with me at Yuletide. My house elf tells me it is the last photo I have of her alive- Dragon Pox took Dorea and her husband not long after." Cassiopeia glanced from Marius to Pollux, and for a brief second stood silent as the siblings remembered The Baby with grief-tinted affection.

"It was eight months after this photo was taken that Albus Dumbledore approached James and Lily Potter and told them they were being targeted by your British Dark Lord."

Cassiopeia's presentation was blunt and to the point. She did not know the words of the prophecy that had targeted the Potter family, had been disappointed to learn that Dumbledore had not allowed James and Lily to share it with even their closest friends.

The Potter family disappeared from the public eye barely a month after the Potter's formal pregnancy announcement was sent out to the family- a tactical retreat that coincided with James' abrupt retirement from the auror force and Lily's abandonment of her mastery. Cassiopeia now knew, thanks to a member of Dumbledore's order, that they had gone to Dumbeldore's childhood home in Godric's Hollow. But despite it having been his own property, Dumbledore did not provide the fidelius- instead, he encouraged the Potters to choose their own secret keeper. They were in hiding when Lily's parents died, when their son was born, as their friends and fellow Order members were cut down one battle at a time.

Cassiopeia skipped over the actual attack on the Potter family- Sirius had covered that particular betrayal in enough detail, and there was no reason to cause another riot.

"After the Potters were murdered and You-Know-Who was destroyed, Dorea's grandson disappeared. Alice Longbottom, his godmother, was frantic, but due to the attack on her family was unable to follow legal protocol in searching or caring for a missing child. Sirius, his godfather, was similarly unable to act due to his wrongful incarceration. And by the time any of the Potter's other friends think to investigate, Dumbledore had frozen the Potter's will and was beginning a media campaign which painted himself as the child's rightful guardian."

Throughout the speech, Cassiopeia's wand had been working overtime- with each new tidbit of information, a new photo appeared. Some were full color, others had been carefully cut from the paper and replayed in repetitive sepia toned loops. By the time she paused for breath, the case board was covered with dozens of photos of the first year and a half of young Harry Potter's life, the last of his parents'.

Dumbledore's involvement, both theoretical and obviously documented in the papers, was the lynchpin of the tale. Clearly, his interference had began with Sybill Trewlaney's prophecy- but why had it continued past this British Dark Lord's apparently explosive defeat?

"I am afraid that this particular puzzle is one that I have not yet gathered all of the pieces for," Cassiopeia admitted, pointing towards a list of reasons that Dumbledore might have tried to hide away Harry (jealousy, fear, guilt, the prophecy, other information). "At this time, is there anything any of you would like to contribute to help us speculate?"

Four hands rose in the air with varying degrees of wariness.

Sirius, occluding heavily: "Dumbledore has always preferred to keep his information close to his chest- even within the Order, we weren't allowed to discuss our individual missions, and we were definitely never privy to his long term plans."

Lucretia, after an encouraging smile from her mother: "We're the only blood relatives the little boy has besides, well, muggles, right? Everyone knows Dumbledore thinks we're all evil- if our name wasn't enough, most of us were Slytherins. I remember pretty clearly how he felt about the House system. Maybe he just thought we would try to harm the boy because of our own alliances?"

Narcissa, quietly: "The Dark Lord said, on more than one occasion, that death was inevitable for everyone but himself. Dumbledore's own spies would have definitely shared that information with him- it's something we wondered about ourselves."

"Dumbledore is known for experimentation, according to the books we've read," Daniel said, nodding inclusively to his wife. "If little Harry is such an anomaly, would he have wanted to study him?"

Beaming, Cassiopeia scrawled each of their statements on a piece of parchment on the board, labelling them one through four. "Anyone else?"

"There are no records of a child matching the boy's description at St. Mungo's, or any pediatric center in Britain," Lysandra said carefully, testing the words' ability to leave her mouth (Healer Vows included a rather wide variety of tongue twister curses intended to improve patient confidentiality- a much cleaner approach than the simple legal documents more recently adopted by muggles).

"The Wizengamot was not particularly thrilled with Dumbeldore's media blackout regarding the boy- they were interested in determining exactly how he survived as well," Harfang offered. "Not that I think the man in question was in the wrong, but I suppose it could be noted that the old families seemed mutually united in their dissatisfaction with his choice in this instance."

When no other tidbits of information were offered, Cassiopeia spun the case board once more andrevealed an image of a rather plain house in a particularly plain muggle neighborhood.

"This is where Dumbledore left Harry Potter to rot. And I say to rot, because chances are, if no one had interfered, he would have done exactly that in a tiny cupboard under the front stairs."