You might be asking: Baked, where did this come from?
It premiered on my QQ-only snippet thread, where most of my random thoughts end up. I decided to give it its own archive here AND its own thread on SB, because there aren't nearly enough Bloodborne fics out there.
Anyway, enough about that. More story!
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2
A Steward's Duty
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June 25th, 1992 AD
The overall situation, concerning House Black's affairs, was far worse than she thought.
The first blasphemy was the Black Tapestry's defilement; someone, likely Walburga, the woman in the painting, had burned holes in the priceless artifact! Even more insulting was the removal of the Squib lines, who occasionally birthed magicals of their own; the births of every Kinkaid, Granger, and Perks had gone unrecorded since the Statute's inception!
Lenore's rage had been so complete, she destroyed Walburga's bedroom in screaming vengeance. How the Hel was she supposed to hire retainers now?!
But the library… by Morgana, where had her family purchased so many Dark tomes? It was going to take weeks to remove all the curses and hexes, and those were just the books! Someone of small wit had jinxed all the chairs to bite, and the dust on the shelves was cursed with a Flesh-Eating spell of some sort; if she hadn't been trained in Curse-Breaking or were not a Hunter, it might've spelled Lenore's end!
The bedrooms were fairly tame, by comparison; one of them belonged to a Gryffindor and lover of Mundane machines - likely Sirius, the Heir Apparent, if Croaker told her everything right - and was badly destroyed, while the other was proudly Slytherin, and so pristine it could've passed for a museum exhibit.
Lenore was a Hufflepuff, so she slept in the guest room rather than offend her personal sensibilities - or risk being cursed by a snake or lion motif.
The monsters and pests… meh, little more than an annoyance, after the Dream. Happily, there had been a revolution in the magical pest control department while Lenore was Dreaming; the various critters hiding in her family's cubbies and drapes never stood a chance against the Good Hunter, who was armed with a spray bottle, squash racket, and feral grin.
The ones who begged for mercy were bagged and released near Hogsmede; happily, this also gave Lenore some much-needed Apparation practice.
The garden was a right proper mess; once she finished cleansing the place, she ordered Kreacher to purchase seeds and saplings, and some wood. Lenore wanted to construct a shrine to Artemis, the Patron of her Order; that way, perhaps a little light might return to the House of Black.
One might think the Blood Purist movement would be the cause of her rage, but this was also not the case; not entirely, anyway.
'Torjus Pur' meant that the Blacks would always have pure, untainted souls; even her time in the Hunter's Dream wasn't enough to taint Lenore to the point of seeing enemies and monsters everywhere. Otherwise… well, she was sure there was someone who could aid her suicide, somewhere; better to take her chances with the Pit, than linger on with a tainted soul.
But the Blacks had taken this ideal and twisted it, turning it into a rallying cry for "blood purity", shunning mundane-born witches and wizards in favor of marrying their first cousins.
It sickened Lenore… but there was little she could do, anymore; what was done was done. She just needed to keep moving forward, and hopefully discover a way to redeem her House's idiocy; likely by rediscovering the Squib houses, adopting a couple magical children into House Black, and arranging a marriage or three. Nothing difficult.
But… no, Lenore Black was enraged. Why?
Her most recent discovery was a copy of a baptismal document, recording an event that the last Lord of the Blacks, Orion, bore witness and gave his blessing to… because Sirius Black, the current Heir Apparent, was named godfather. What was more, the oaths taken by the godparents – by Alice Longbottom and Sirius Black – were recognized by the land's magic, and therefore binding; if either of them betrayed the child they were sworn to protect, magic would avenge them sevenfold.
In something as serious as betraying them to a mortal enemy – Voldemort, for instance – the godparent would drop dead before the words could fully pass their lips. Lenore had seen it before, had investigated such cases, in her time as a Hunter of the Silver Crescent.
Which meant only one thing.
"Peter Pettigrew lied," Lenore whispered to herself, staring at the damning piece of parchment in disbelief and absolute fury.
Harry James Potter
All her spells said the document was a legitimate copy; the original would be in the care of the Ministry's Records Department, a beast so vast and hideous even the Good Hunter didn't feel she would survive facing it without at least two fellow Hunters and a team of Aurors. Or, alternatively, a decent clerk, preferably a Ravenclaw or Slytherin.
All well and good, but that didn't change the fact that the Black Family Heir Apparent was imprisoned in Azkaban for the past decade and change on the word of a lying piece of fourth-rate shit; even worse, it was a Pettigrew, a family with so little standing they didn't even get a vote in the Wizengamot, and whom various Orders suspected had bred with magical creatures in the past (much like what happened in Dunwich)!
"The disappointment I feel for my family and country burns like Fiendfyre in my soul," the Good Hunter hissed dangerously, hair rippling in an unnatural wind; in her mindscape, the Plain Doll did inventory, ensuring the Hunter would not go wanting, when next she began a glorious Hunt…
Lenore needed to get out of the house and do something about this, preferably in a nonviolent way. But how?!
...well, she needed to visit the Bones woman anyway, yes?
"KREACHER!" Pop! "Fetch my coat and hat… and my blunderbuss and threaded cane. I'm going to visit the Ministry."
"Why the weaponses, Missy Steward?"
"You never know when the forces of Darkness might pull something stupid," she paused, reflecting on what Croaker told her of the Blood Purist movement, "Especially in these days."
"Very good, Missy Steward."
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It was an early Saturday morning in the Ministry Atrium; many witches and wizards were bustling hither and yon, but Amelia was ignoring them in favor of chatting with her good friend Alastor, who'd found a 'special friend' in Andromeda Tonks' daughter, Nymphadora "Just Tonks" Tonks. A pity, because Amelia really wanted the girl to get a good feel for the DMLE before being thrown to the wolves and espionage training; instead, the recent Hogwarts graduate was trying not to look like she wanted to jump in the Fountain of Magical Brethren to wake up, while Amelia deflected Moody's fishing for a case to 'blood his new apprentice on'.
Personally, the Madame Bones would rather be aiding her niece, Susan, in her dueling exercises, or figuring out what the Hel happened in Hogwarts over the past year, but there was plenty of time left in the day. And it wasn't like a crisis was about to unfold or anything.
She was just nodding along to Mad-Eye grousing about Just Tonks' poor performance on the stealth challenges when a cry of alarm came from the Floo; her wand slipped automatically into her hand, as did Moody's – Tonks fumbled but recovered quickly – but both Aurors stayed perfectly calm and collected so as not to cause a panic-
"Morgana's tits," swore the scarred veteran Auror, magical eye trained unerringly on the crowd near the Floo, which was parting before an approaching figure.
"Moody, what is it?" Amelia asked out the corner of her mouth, keeping her body loose and glancing at the Auror guards around the Atrium; they were approaching, but those with line of sight quickly became wary.
Before Alastor could answer, the crowd parted fully… and Amelia felt her breath hitch in her throat.
She didn't know why, either; the woman walking toward them was dressed like a Hit Wizard who'd just returned from a mission, their cloak black leather with gold embroidery, the thick brown combat vest covering their torso crisscrossed with belts and bandoliers, where the glint of silver items could be seen. A ratty tricorn hat sat upon their head, partially hiding their bright blue eyes, and a black scarf covered their face from the nose down. Over their heart were two badges, only one of which Amelia recognized on sight: a golden Order of Merlin, First Class. The other badge was a silver disk, bordered by two wolves eating each other's tails, one whole, the other rotted; the center of the badge was decorated with a flintlock pistol and a sickle. On the dark apparition's hips were two weapons: a blunderbuss, and a strange white cane that looked… wrong, somehow.
The figure's heels clicked loudly in the suddenly silent Ministry Atrium as they kept walking forward; no, Amelia amended, they did not walk so much as stalk, as though ready for an attack from any direction.
"Halt and declare yourself!" Moody barked, wand trained steadily on the being, who halted at the edge of just inside the Atrium's circle. There was a tinge of fear in the man's voice that Amelia had never heard before, but she didn't look his way, choosing to watch this strange Hit Wizard… or whatever they were.
The seeming-woman's head lifted and looked at them, a pair of blue eyes staring out of the slit between hat and mask; a strand of black- no, red hair, had slipped free of their ponytail to bracket one side of their face.
There was something missing in those eyes, an absence of humanity that set Amelia's hindbrain to worried shrieking.
"I am Lenore Black, Warden and Steward of the Noble and Ancient House of Black, and last remaining Hunter of the Silver Crescent Order," the woman's voice was quiet and harsh, with a clear Wales accent, but not unpleasant to the ear, "Apologies for my lack of introductory letter, but my recent discovery necessitates the utmost haste. I must speak with the Head of the DMLE immediately, regarding a miscarriage of justice… as well as a private matter between Houses Black and Bones."
"Stand down," Amelia ordered, impressed that she kept her voice steady for the command; she remembered the tale, passed down from one Bones to the next.
Two Hunters of Silver, of Black and Bone, the Keepers of the Moon.
Martine Bones and Lenore Black, the Seneschal and Warden of their respective Houses.
"Greetings, Hunter Black. I am Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE," the Hunter nodded at Amelia, those alien eyes looking her up and down in a way that made the Head Auror feel naked and vulnerable, "If you wouldn't terribly mind revealing your face, that we might verify your claims before our meeting?"
"Amy, she's Dark," hissed Moody, the only Auror who didn't lower his wand, "She's a Black, and that cloak of hers is imbued with blood magic-"
"You're looking into things you have no business messing with, Auror Moody. I strongly suggest you leave it, unless you'd like to meet with an Unspeakable today," Madame Bones hissed back, not taking her eyes off the woman, who removed her hat and unwound a string from inside the brim before hanging it on her neck, "Don't you have an apprentice to whip into shape? Get on with it. And you lot! Clear off!" she shouted at the crowd, "There's nothing to see here that concerns your Departments! To your jobs, now!" Her Aurors took the hint and began carefully herding everyone out of the hall; a few nobles and gawkers – including Arthur Weasley, who was eyeing the Hunter's blunderbuss with a covetous gaze – needed a little more encouragement, but the Atrium was emptied in short order, just in time for the woman to fully reveal her face.
It was the face of a woman both old and young, of a person not yet old enough to grow grey and weathered on the surface, yet their eyes held the look of someone who'd beheld… Amelia thought it best not to consider it. She looked like a Black; in fact, she looked like the pictures Amelia had seen of Lenore Black, in the Bones' family history books.
She hasn't aged a day…
She also knew Alastor hadn't actually left, and was hiding, Disillusioned, near a pillar with his apprentice; Madame Bones ignored the snub to her orders, and spoke to the Hunter.
"I am Madame Amelia Bones, Lady of the Noble and Ancient House of Bones, Order of Merlin, First Class, and Head of the DMLE," she returned the formal introduction with formality of her own, nodding her head to the Hunter's slight bow, "Forgive me, Hunter Black, but I thought you and my ancestor, Hunter Martine Bones, had long ago sacrificed yourselves to seal away the Broken Moon."
"This is as your ancestor asked the DoM to report, Madame. The truth is classified; you'll have to ask the Head Unspeakable for my debriefing report." The woman's lips barely moved, the slight movement of her shoulders the only indication she was even breathing; clearly, she was very tense, but there was a… grief, there, Amelia could barely hear it.
Gulping, Amelia asked dryly, "Ease my mind, Hunter. How did the Hunt end?"
Lenore's eyes closed, a look of heartache and pain flitting briefly across her face… and, from a pocket, she drew a ring that Amelia had only ever seen pictures of.
"The Broken Moon is cleansed. Martine Bones sacrificed himself to ensure my victory. I have…" the Hunter stepped forward and gave the ring to Amelia, clearly struggling with keeping herself level, but continued her report quickly after retreating to a respectful distance, "It is all I could take from the site without violating my oaths, Madame; he is buried there in sackcloth, with his tools, next to the Hunters who came before us. I have recommended, to the Head of the DoM, that he be posthumously rewarded with his second Order of Merlin, First Class, as well as a Knighthood; as I understand it, however, the second will be difficult to ensure without violating the Statute."
"Quite, Hunter Lenore. He will be honored, nonetheless, by the Magical world if not the Muggle one," Amelia said softly, running her fingers over the Seneschal Ring of House Bones, long thought lost with its last bearer; looking into the fraught Hunter's eyes, Madame Bones smiled weakly, "House Bones thanks you for returning its son's effects, Lenore Black. Have you breakfasted?"
"Nay, Madame, I have not," the redheaded woman shook her head slightly, clearly tired and weary, "I am… still consolidating and processing 300 years of poor management within my house, and haven't had the time to fill the pantry."
Well! That was… interesting.
"Dawlish! Get to the Leaky Caul- no, the Three Broomsticks, they'll be less busy this time of day; tell Rosemerta to give you two full English breakfasts and bring them to my office; Bentley, Fredrickson, go with him," as her Aurors rushed to do her bidding, Amelia invited, "Then kindly join me, Hunter. I'd like to hear what one such as you would call a 'miscarriage of justice', though that can wait until after you've eaten and someone has informed the Chief Warlock and the Minister." Two more Aurors rushed off to do just that, while Moody and Tonks – both Disillusioned – fell into the elevator behind Hunter and Head Auror.
"Much obliged, Madame Bones," quietly demurred the only member of the Black family Amelia knew of who wasn't in Azkaban. As the elevator took them to the DMLE offices, the Hunter observed, "I must say, I didn't think I'd see the Eye of Janus again; where did you find it, ah, Auror Moody, wasn't it?"
'Tonks isn't the only one who needs stealth training,' Amelia thought with a private smirk, while her old friend grumbled caustically at being found out so easily.
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Lenore's visit to the Ministry was… eye-opening.
Oh, certainly, Madame Amelia Bones was a right proper Lady, seeing to Lenore's every need and generally being a friendly ear; that they were both Hufflepuffs came as no surprise, and a happy thread of conversation was followed while they broke their fast together.
"My niece, Susan, and her friend Hannah Abbot," explained Amelia proudly as Lenore chewed and examined a magical photograph, another recent invention; the young girl with clear Bones features was doing classwork with her friend in a courtyard that Lenore remembered being near the History classroom. Both were smiling and happy, "Just finished her First Year at Hogwarts, both of them 'Puffs. My dear Susan finished third in her Year, as well, behind Lord Malfoy's son and a promising young Muggleborn witch."
"The Badgers are in good hands, as always," Lenore grinned, delighted at the sight of happy children (it'd been so long…) enough to ignore the use of her new least favorite word for those magicals born to Mundane parents; spirits lifted, she turned to Auror Moody and his apprentice, Nymphadora Tonks, "And your Houses, if you don't mind?"
"Badger," grinned Nymphadora, her hair turning black and yellow, which made Lenore's eyebrows rise in pleased surprise.
"You're a Metamorph, Auror Tonks?" at the girl's eager nod, Lenore hummed, "Ah, you're of Black blood, then. Yes, I remember seeing your name on the Black tapestry. Don't look so surprised, tis a family trait; my elder sister, Catherine, had a limited grasp of the Metamorph ability."
"Uh, alright?" the girl looked a mite uncomfortable, while Auror Moody tried to imitate a grumpy bulldog, "Don't try convincin' me of that always pure garbage, though. I ain't-" she cut off as Lenore let out an animalistic growl.
"When ah' find out who started that trend, I'll… ooh!" she shook her head and took a fortifying gulp of tea to calm herself, before explaining in a calmer voice, "'Torjus Pur', Nymphadora, was originally intended to mean the purity of our souls in the face of Dark threats; we were a house of Dark Wizard hunters, not, as my descendants proselytised, a house of Dark practitioners and moronic blood purists! By Merlin's hat, what did I fight Godelot for, if this is my house's legacy?!"
"It's Tonks," the young Metamorph said weakly, clearly out of her element; Lenore made a mental note to speak with the girl's mother when she had a chance, so this mistake in their family's views could be redressed.
"Godelot?" Auror Moody grunted suspiciously, "I was under the impression the Blacks aided Godelot, not fought 'im."
"Well good for whoever told you that, because they're wrong," Lenore replied breezily, "In fact, there's an entire shelf of autobiographies and essays in the Black Library that says how wrong your source is, never mind the fact that I fought the hideous fiend myself."
"The Bones library as well, Alastor; one of our number fought at Warden Lenore's side in that duel," Amelia added with a small smile, further easing tensions, "It's been a very long time since House Bones was friendly with the Blacks, but we were allies, once upon a time."
Subject matters varied from there – mostly Lenore bemoaning the state of Magical Britain and a brief argument with Nymphadora over which Queen Elizabeth was better – until the arrival of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic and, in Lenore's professional opinion, all-around sycophantic fool. His retinue of the immaculately-dressed Lucius Malfoy – someone's catamite, no doubt – and the toad-seeming Dolores Umbridge – whose name reflected her personality – failed to impress the Warden of House Black at all.
On the other hand, Lucius did bring his wife, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, to work with him, so at least there was something to salvage.
"Well-met, my great-great-grandniece!" and Lenore pulled her fellow Black woman into an embrace; the poor thing seemed rather star-struck, which came as no surprise. Lenore was one of the greatest scions of House Black to ever raise a wand, "How fare your fortunes?"
"Ah, they fare well, my great-aunt," smiled the flustered Narcissa, anxiously arranging her hair as her husband aided her in seating near the wall, "My son, Draco, led his house academically this year."
There was a sour look on both her and her husband's faces when she mentioned that – not to mention the wince of Nymphadora and Amelia Bones – but Lenore felt it better not to comment further on academics, instead inquiring on Lucius' business dealings – a 'philanthropist', which meant Lenore would have to search his house soon for Dark or illegal contraband – and just what a 'Senior Undersecretary' did – apparently very little, as the simpering toady deflected the question with such nauseating sweetness, Lenore had to physically stop herself from ripping the bitch's face off with her teeth, or dragging her to an interrogation room to put the toad to the Question.
And then Albus Dumbledore walked into the room, in all his 2-meter tall robed glory, practically radiating calmness and magical power…
"By the Round Table and the Crown of England, are you fecking color-blind?!"
…in fluorescent red and silver checkered robes, with tiny brown hares frolicking over the hems. The burnt-orange pointed hat with periwinkle blue shooting stars did not help.
It was the largest visual affront to Lenore's senses she'd ever born witness to, vying with the Moon Presence and Godelot's Horror for the top spot, and it was only a self-reminder that the man was both Chief Warlock and a genuine Sorcerer that stopped the Good Hunter from drawing her Cane and hacking him to bits right there and then, for the dual crime of Chaos worship and walking around wearing what could only be described as 'visual rape'.
It was still a very near thing.
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On one hand, Lenore was convinced that something was making everyone in Magical Britain progressively more insane as time went on. Nothing else could explain Dumbledore's… "fashion sense", if one could call it that, or Malfoy's painfully obvious slimy nature, and the less said about Umbridge's opinion concerning ordinary Werewolves – most of whom were not like they were in the Dream, unless one counted Feral Werewolves like the Greyback clan – the better. That Fudge could barely talk without counselling either Dumbledore or Lucius – or Umbridge, who Lenore was already plotting the 'tragic demise' of – said much about how her country was run.
On the other hand…
"It's genuine," Amelia Bones reported stonily, holding the original Baptism Record of Harry James Potter next to the copy Lenore brought, the real one having been located in just under an hour by Auror Shacklebolt; in spite of the swiftness of the deed being done, the Head Auror still looked furious, "I thank you for bringing this to my Department's attention, Steward Black. Assuming the Black in Azkaban is the real Sirius Orion Black, with this evidence now brought to light, it's clear that he could not have betrayed his Godson to You-Know-Who and survived."
"Are you certain?" Fudge squeaked like a mouse caught in a trap, displaying his ignorance and worry, in regards to his position's security, for all to see, "Lucius, Albus? Is this true?" Though there was a little shrewdness, strength, there at the end, which gave Lenore the tiniest sliver of hope.
"As far as I know, yes," Lucius said in disbelief, staring at the pages in front of Madame Bones as though they would vanish any second, "The Godparent Oath is bound by the same magic that binds the Wizengamot, and the Hunter Orders, like Steward Black's, in defense of the realm, though I believe the Godparent Oath is one of the lesser forms, hmm… Narcissa, dear, we have more books about this in the library, yes?" His wife nodded silently, looking… fearful? "If you and your family aren't terribly busy, Cornelius, you're welcome to come by for dinner tomorrow, after which we can discuss the matter; we would also be pleased to host you as well, Steward Black."
A transparent ploy to curry favor, and get me into his seat of power, with a delay hidden in the invitation so he might tidy up his abode. They have something to hide, then. Good. This will give me a chance to investigate their affairs without arousing undue suspicion.
"I still have my House to get in order and an Heir Apparent to ensure the sanity of, so I may not be able to attend… are you alright, Dumbledore?"
As it turned out, no, the Chief Warlock was certainly not alright.
Luckily, Auror Moody, Narcissa, Madame Bones and Lenore were all well-trained in the Healing arts, and Lenore never went anywhere without a fully-stocked and updated trauma kit, so Dumbledore was quickly stabilized for the Medi-Wizards to escort to Saint Mungo's Hospital so his cardiac arrest could be treated. Amelia was particularly irritated at the elderly Wizard's sweet-tooth, which sages all around agreed was the likely cause of Dumbledore's weakened heart.
Before he was wheeled away, however, the Chief Warlock signed an offical order for Sirius Black to be brought in and questioned, with Veritaserum, after his sanity was assured by an accredited Mind Healer.
He also whispered a rather enticing offer to Lenore, to which she answered, "Get my House's Heir out of prison, and I will consider it."