30 March 1973
"Pandora, have you noticed that our House points haven't been going up as much?" Zarya asked Dora over dinner.
"Interesting."
"You're still earning us loads of points, though," Zarya pressed. "How are the point totals not increasing? We were in the lead all year!"
"Were we? I hardly noticed."
"We were! Till last month, really," Isolde informed. "Now we're second!"
"Hmm," Dora replied, noncommittally. "Must be someone else losing us points, then."
"I haven't heard anything about that," Scholastica interrupted, frowning. "Zarya's right! What happened?"
"Ravenclaws are talented as well," Dora supplied. "Perhaps studying for O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s has increased their academic abilities?"
"Maybe," Scholastica sulked. "We were ahead for so long!"
Dora shrugged. "We may never know, but I'll keep doing my best."
"You're top of our class though!" Scholastica protested. "Surely that counts for something?"
"It's not all about rankings," Dora replied airily. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to finish that essay we have for Professor Flitwick. I'd much rather earn high marks than earn House points, wouldn't you?" She smiled coyly at the girls and got up from the Hufflepuff table to head to the library.
"I've noticed the dip in Hufflepuff's points too." Dora saw Snape from the corner of her eye, walking towards the library as well.
"What's it to you?" Dora countered. "You're not a Hufflepuff. You can only stand to gain from our loss."
"Surely you don't believe it's merely coincidence?" Snape offered.
"I'm not a Slytherin," Dora retorted. "I hardly believe it's a conspiracy. Others merely have more points than we do now. No need to question it."
"You're clearly the one who's been driving the points in your House, Pandora," Severus said slowly. "Regulus and the other first years haven't indicated a change in your behavior."
"Again, it has nothing to do with you, Snape," Dora hissed. "It doesn't affect you, so leave it be!"
"I don't believe you," Snape said.
"You know what?" Dora began angrily. "If you're that upset about the loss of my House points, ask Dumbledore about it for all I care! I've nothing more to say to you!" She stomped angrily towards the library now. "Bloody Slytherins unable to keep their enormous noses out of my life," muttered Dora, as she stepped into the library, wondering just how much her own contributions had advantaged Hufflepuff House that year.
19 April 1973
"Miss Black, are you going home for the Easter holidays?" Professor Sprout asked over breakfast. "Today is the last day to sign up."
"Yes," Dora said miserably. "I'll be going home for a family event."
"Noted," Professor Sprout said, as she wrote Dora's name on the enchanted parchment.
"I didn't know you were going home!" Elissa complained. "It'll just be me alone in our dorm!"
"I'm sorry, Elissa," apologized Dora. "I wish I could stay here, I do, but my Aunt has not-so-quietly told me that I must return for the holiday for a family event."
"What's the event for?" Zarya asked. "Some pureblood society thing?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Dora confessed. "Something to do with my cousin Narcissa, I think. She's to marry Lucius Malfoy this summer. Reg and Sirius don't have to go, it's terribly unfair."
"D'you think it's a Hen Night?" Scholastica proffered.
"Extremely unlikely," Dora replied. "I have no desire to see what my family would consider appropriate for a Hen Night." She shuddered, thinking of her female, Black relatives throwing a raucous evening for Narcissa.
"Merlin, I hope it's not that," Dora said, placing her face in her hands. "Anything but that."
….
28 April 1973
It was the last night of Dora's Easter holiday at Grimmauld Place. Regulus and Sirius had been permitted to stay at Hogwarts, but thanks to whatever "event" had been planned for Narcissa that evening, Dora had been forced to go back to Walburga and Orion for the week. The event was being held at Grimmauld Place, no less.
Dora had not missed Grimmauld Place, even with Kreacher's diligent care for the place ahead of Narcissa's event. It was lonelier than ever, especially without Regulus or Sirius to keep her company. Dora had resorted to ordering Kreacher to keep her company by telling her stories from Regulus' and Sirius' early childhoods. The elf clearly preferred Regulus, but hearing of the boys' antics together was as pleasant a time as she could expect from Grimmauld Place.
At long last, it was the evening of Narcissa's "event," and Walburga had not spared any expense in dressing Dora. She was dressed in elegant, silk robes and laden with delicate jewels. She had not missed this, certainly.
"Aunt Walburga, may I ask what this event is?" Dora pressed her aunt for the umpteenth time that week. Each time, Walburga refused to answer.
"Not until the others arrive," Walburga replied tersely.
"It's almost time!" Dora protested. "Please!"
"If you must know, it's a Hen Night," Walburga responded, much to Dora's horror.
"I'm to attend Narcissa's Hen Night? Aren't I a tad young for such an event?" Dora stared at Walburga in amazement.
"Insolent girl," Walburga spat, "Your ridiculous conception of a Hen Night is entirely unbecoming on a young woman. Now, come."
Walburga led Dora into the large drawing room, which was richly decorated with fresh flowers. Kreacher was happily awaiting them, bowing deeply at his Mistress and young Miss. Narcissa, Bellatrix, Druella, and Irma were already waiting for them. What kind of a Hen Night includes mothers and grandmothers? Dora wondered. She wished her own mother, Andromeda, was there.
Kreacher popped in and out of the drawing room over the next several minutes, guiding guests into the lavishly decorated space. The witches were drinking fine wine and eating delicately prepared foods. The entire space contrasted wildly with the Hen Nights Dora was familiar with in her timeline; though she hadn't been to very many, they had all involved copious amounts of alcohol, dancing in loud, crowded places, and strategic performances from wizards. This Hen Night, by contrast, was – lame, if Dora could put a word to it.
Dora was the youngest in the room by far. Narcissa had invited a few of her Slytherin dormmates, but the room was otherwise filled with women around Walburga's age.
"Have some wine, Pandora," Bellatrix suggested, holding out a glass.
"No, thank you," Dora said, eyeing the glass suspiciously. She was suddenly glad for Moody's paranoia in refusing anything that she hadn't seen prepared, or made herself.
"Yes, Pandora, have some wine," Narcissa interrupted. "It's elf-made, quite good."
"I'm too, erm, young, for wine, I think," Dora faltered. Despite her desire to get properly drunk and forget where she was, getting drunk around her Black relatives didn't seem like the best idea.
"I insist, Pandora," Walburga countered. "Take the wine your cousin Bellatrix has so kindly offered you."
"Th-Thank you," Dora stammered, taking the glass from Bellatrix. She sniffed at it, trying to uncover any poisons or potions within.
"It's not poisoned," Druella cut in. "Drink it, girl." Dora looked at her grandmother, glad that her mother Andromeda had been disowned. Druella would have made a frightening grandmother.
Dora gave in and took a sip of the wine. It was truly excellent wine, but as soon as Dora had taken the sip, she immediately felt the Veritaserum flowing. Thank Merlin for the Unbreakable Vow and Occlumency, Dora thought.
"Why is there Veritaserum in this?" Dora demanded.
"How do you know there is Veritaserum in your wine, Pandora?" Walburga asked, a suspicious look in her eyes.
"I can feel it," Dora replied. Shit, she thought, the Unbreakable Vow only applied to future events, but not personal facts. Fuck.
"You've had this before?" Druella asked sharply.
"Yes," Dora replied against her will.
"When?" Narcissa's brow was furrowed.
"A few years ago." During Auror training, to feel its effects, Dora thought. Will that come out?
"By who?"
"Moo-," Dora began, willing the Occlumency and Unbreakable Vow to the forefront of her thoughts. Auror training, future, Moody, future, I become an Auror in the future, I cannot reveal this information. Dora began choking with effort, much to everyone's surprise.
"Your mother?" Walburga questioned. "Most respectable pureblood mothers do. I hardly expected it from a Scamander." Dora was coughing, trying to catch her breath, and attempting to nod in the process.
"Is – this – a – normal – Hen – Night?" Dora managed to choke out. "For you?"
"Oh, yes, Pandora," Druella noted. "To know what kind of witch the bride truly is before she gives herself in marriage."
"Then – why – does – everyone – get – it?" Dora gasped. The questions rose easily, despite her efforts. Whatever was in this Veritaserum, it was especially strong.
Bellatrix smirked maliciously. "It must have slipped into your goblet, my dear cousin." The women around Bellatrix laughed politely. "The youngest guest gets the first taste." Dora's face fell; traditions aside, it was unthinkable to give a childVeritaserum, Hen Night or otherwise.
"It's – strong," Dora commented. "Why?"
"Black family secret," Narcissa provided. "It lasts much longer than one would expect."
"Shit," Dora blurted, unthinkingly, as the room's many brows were raised in offense.
"Language, Pandora!" Walburga screeched.
Dora placed her head in her hands, trying to will herself out of the mess she was in. To her credit, Narcissa took the offending goblet of wine from Dora's hand and took a few sips, before handing it off to Bellatrix.
In turn, each of the witches in the drawing room took sips of the wine until the room was filled with polite blushes and giggles over inappropriate questions. Not knowing where to go, Dora decided to join Narcissa's side with her Slytherin friends.
"Narcissa, have you and Lucius enjoyed one another's company?" one of the girls asked suggestively.
"Yes," Narcissa immediately replied. "Lucius prefers empty classrooms to broom closets."
"Ugh," Dora muttered. "Did not need to know that. Did not, did not, did not."
"Oh, Pandora, no need for such unease," Druella cut in. "As long as it was with Lucius only and protective charms were set in place, it is to be expected."
"Have you been careful, Narcissa?" Druella asked.
"Yes," Narcissa replied. "Every time."
"Why don't we ask our dear Pandora a few questions?" Bellatrix sneered. "I'm sure we've all been curious about her time at school." She smirked at Dora, sending a chill down the younger witch's spine.
"Have you taken a fancy to anyone?" Narcissa asked.
"Yes," Dora responded, carelessly.
"Who might it be?" Walburga's eyes shone.
"Re – re –," Dora gasped. Remus, adult Remus, future Remus, not-now Remus!
"Regulus?" Bellatrix offered, as Dora coughed violently. "Seeking a family match, I see," she sneered.
"Pandora seems to react poorly to this brew," an older witch commented. "Why might that be?"
"All-ll," Dora stammered, attempting to lie and pretend it was allergies. "Un-un," she heard herself begin, while continuing to stammer and gasp aggressively. Not the time to let them know I made an Unbreakable Vow!
"Take the child away," Irma's voice demanded. "She is not healthy enough for this." Bless Irma, the old witch, bless her, Dora thought.
"The girl is lying," Bellatrix declared. "Ask simple questions to divulge the truth."
"If you insist, Bella," Narcissa relented. "I'll not have the child ill at my Hen Night."
"What is your name?" Bellatrix demanded of Dora.
"N-Dor-a," Dora croaked, coughing again. "Dora," she spluttered. The other witches were now staring at the spectacle of the young witch being interrogated.
"Who are your parents?" Bellatrix questioned.
Dora steeled herself, begging her mental shields to work. "A-A-A," was as far as Dora was able to stammer, thanking Merlin that her true mother's name began with an A, just as her fake father's name did. The efforts of hiding her true identity were making Dora dizzy and disoriented.
"The child is reacting poorly," considered Irma. "Excuse her."
"There's something dishonest within her," Bellatrix snarled. "Are you a Black?" she demanded of Dora.
"Yes," Dora answered, sighing and breathing more evenly with the release of truth. This much was true.
"Are you, by blood, a Black?" Bellatrix repeated.
"Yes." Dora finally felt at ease. The truth felt relieving.
"We already knew the child was a Black, Bella," Walburga drawled. "Kreacher responds to her and recognizes the blood. Elf magic cannot lie."
"Perhaps if we asked the question differently?" Narcissa suggested. "The question on her name may have felt simple to you, Bella, but the child goes by both Pandora and Dora. Her parents may have been difficult to answer, given her trauma. She now lives with Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion, and perhaps her maternal and paternal figures have shifted?"
Bless you, Narcissa Black-soon-to-be-Malfoy, Dora thought. Cissa might not be so bad, after all.
"You do the questioning then, Cissy," Bellatrix spat, looking surly.
"When is your birthday, Dora?" Narcissa began gently.
"5th November," Dora supplied. Thank Merlin they hadn't changed her birthday in this timeline!
"What is your Hogwarts House?"
"Hufflepuff."
"What is your favorite subject?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts." The witches in the room looked at Dora curiously, but said nothing, now transfixed by the quieter interaction.
"What is your favorite spell?"
"The Patronus Charm." Several gasps were heard around the room; the Patronus Charm was unusually difficult for even adult witches and wizards. Dora had hardly expected herself to answer that this charm in particular was her favorite; she blamed it on the recent change.
"Are you able to conjure a Patronus Charm?" Druella cut in. "A corporeal one?"
"Yes and yes." More gasps and shocked expressions in the drawing room. Welp.
"What form does your Patronus take?" Narcissa asked.
"A wolf."
"Will you demonstrate for us?" Walburga interjected.
"No."
"Why not?" Druella demanded.
"I don't want to."
"Then how can we believe you can do it?" Bellatrix sneered.
"I'm under Veritaserum." Even with the potion, I'm still not tactful. At least that hasn't changed, Dora thought. A few feminine giggles were heard following Dora's cheeky remark.
"Imperio!" Bellatrix cried, pointing her wand at Dora. The younger witch felt the effects of the Imperius Curse immediately. She felt pleasantly warm and glad she needn't make any decisions for herself. As she heard the command to conjure her Patronus, Moody's own voice flitted in her imagination to resist! You must resist!
Dora strained against the effort. Bellatrix tried harder still to get the younger witch to conjure the Patronus, while Dora's hands shook from effort to avoid lifting her wand any further. Dora felt as if she were going to pass out from the exertion of her mental faculties.
"NO!" Dora shouted. "I WILL NOT!" she bellowed at Bellatrix, who was taken aback by Dora's insistence. "YOU CANNOT MAKE ME!" she bellowed.
Dora strengthened her shields and, fighting against the rage, shook off the Imperius Curse. She was panting and sweating from the effort, as gasps were heard around the room again. She looked up and noticed her hair had morphed into a fiery red again. "For fuck's sake," she muttered, and absentmindedly tapped her wand to her hair to "charm" it back to its Black black.
"Quite impressive for accidental magic, Pandora," Narcissa noted. "Even more extraordinary that you were able to fight off the Imperius Curse." Witches around the drawing room were staring at the scene with their own expressions of surprise and amazement. Average witches weren't supposed to be able to fight off such spells, let alone twelve-year-old witches.
"This is why the Dark Lord took such interest in Pandora," Irma drawled. "Pollux is most pleased to have her as a granddaughter."
"She will be quite the boon to the Dark Lord's cause," Druella smirked. "As is my Bellatrix," the older witch simpered.
"I want to go," Dora begged. "Please, excuse me."
"Not yet," Walburga ordered. "Kreacher!" The ancient house elf popped into the drawing room and bowed before his Mistress.
"Mistress calls for Kreacher?"
"Get the antidote and provide it for Miss Dora." The elf disappeared and reappeared quickly in moments, offering the antidote to Dora.
"Thank you, Kreacher," Dora said, patting the house elf on its head. Kreacher looked pleased with himself and popped away. Dora downed the small vial of antidote and felt immediately at ease; she was no longer under the influence of the truth-telling serum. If Kreacher had the antidote, is it possible he had the Black family Veritaserum on hand as well?
"Dora, you will not be subject to the Veritaserum any longer, as you've reacted poorly to it," Walburga lectured. "You will stay at your cousin's Hen Night until you are excused."
"Yes, ma'am," Dora agreed. It wasn't the option she hoped for, but being prevented from forcibly answering further questions about her clearly incriminating past felt enough for now.
The evening passed in great discomfort for Dora. She learned altogether too much about the intimate details of her relatives' sex lives; evidently, Black family women had next to no shame in the bedroom. Then again, Dora thought, if adult Remus were here…best banish that thought while I'm ahead, she thought. Only two decades to go…