Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its subsequent universe. All recognizable characters, settings and plots belong to J. K. Rowling.

Acknowledgements: Thank you to my team of Betas and Editors: Tendrael Umbra, AJAVENGER01, Ares Alexander Peverell, Avidnarutofan.

Harry Potter and the Trials of Twilight

By: ArtyWords

Book 1: The Premature Arrival

Chapter 4: Shades of Black Pt.1 - The Portrait & The Crone

The Paths of Portraits

Phineas Nigellus Black had been called many things in his lifetime. He had been many things in his lifetime. A good person was not one of them, a fact his painted imprint agreed with wholeheartedly. Many of his detractors called him a muggle hater, maybe they had been right or maybe they had been wrong. Either way he was certain none of them had to watch their sister die, stoned to death by a mob led by her own husband.

He had been a man with an ice-cold heart. A heart that had cracked the day his son — his namesake — had come home preaching in support of muggle rights. After what they had done to his sister Phineas would have died before he let a member of his house support them. It was unfortunate for his son Phineas that his father still had years of life to live and plans to accomplish. Nigellus had 'dragged' his son to Glasgow to undergo Deas-ghnàth fuil snaidhm. Disinherited, disowned and cast out the now Phineas No-name saw it has an opportunity to explore the muggle world not that he cared what his former son did.

It would be many years later that Phineas No-name would be mentioned in his presence. It had been the Aurors that had broken the status quo. As far as they could tell he had been drunk when the muggles captured him and using his own wand as tinder they burned him on a cross.

Personally, he didn't believe it, not when Phineas No-name had been known to avoid alcohol like the plague. Not when his wife had been unable to hide the satisfied gleam he saw in her eyes as soon as the Aurors left. Regardless he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Using his son as a martyr for his cause, he had been so close to making the Slytherin Solution a reality. Unfortunately, Percival had managed to appeal to more delicate sensitivities of the masses. His fate had been ironic as it was cruel, then again no good deed ever went unpunished.

He wasn't a good person, Blacks rarely were so as he traversed the paths of portraits to make a long-overdue visit to his granddaughter. Altruism was far from his mind buried deep beneath his desire to make an old man's life a little bit harder.

(+)

Germany

It was a beautiful summer's night in her opinion, the stars twinkled clearly in the cloudless sky, occasionally she could hear the hoot of an owl or the howl of a wolf in the distance. She let the unusually chilly wind breeze over her as she delved deeper into her book. It had been a while since she found the time to simply slow down and enjoy herself.

"Cassiopeia! Cassiopeia! Cassiopeia!"

Cassiopeia scowled as she heard her grandfather shouting out her name from his portrait in her office. It had been so long since her grandfather had deigned to visit she had forgotten about it. Snapping her book shut in frustration she walked into the house towards her office, it was one of the more reclusive properties owned by the Black family more specifically they would own it when she died. She had come across the property during the war and decided it was as good a place as any to settle down and establish a base of operations in the country.

Over the years she had come to love it and when she had cut her ties with Britannia decades ago she had returned and built a rather cushy life for herself. She stepped into her office quietly, not that it mattered the portrait was still shouting her name. She had often wondered why she kept around when her grandfather rarely visited her and the few memories she had of the man when he was alive only depicted a Lord who cared about his House, not a father who cared about his family. She supposed it was due to an odd sense of sentimentality, one of the few remaining connections to her family.

It had been years since she had met any of them, the last one being her brother Arcturus. She had sat by his bed in his final moments which meant she was the only one aware of his final request. A request she had failed to fulfil when she named her niece Walburga Regent Black and washed her hands of Britannia.

Which was why she never had visitors, she had never met any of Cygnus's or Walburga's children in person and was fairly certain they thought of her as a myth Walburga had conjured up during her fits of madness.

She glared at the portrait too busy shouting to realise she had entered the room. It wasn't till she sat behind her desk that he took notice and finally shut his mouth.

"Hello, Grandfather I suppose I should apologise for taking so long to answer your summons but this is a rather unexpected visit."

Phineas scowled at her disrespect and petty powerplay, the back of her chair facing him but at an angle that allowed him to see her flip through the pages of the book she was reading.

"Hello, Cassie how hav-"

"You know we were never close so let's not pretend otherwise. Stick to Cassiopeia and get the point the sooner you can leave the better."

Phineas scowled again, he didn't have to see her face to know she was smirking. Not when her voice sounded so smug.

"Alright, Cassie I need you to stop throwing this little tantrum of yours-"

"It's not a tantrum."

"Isn't," he scoffed. "You need to return home. The situation has become... delicate."

"Why can't Walburga handle it? I left her in charge for a reason."

"Yes, the mysterious reason you have refused to share. You are also as aware as I am that Walburga was never one for subtlety."

"So she can learn."

"She can learn? As interesting as that would be to see, the fact remains that the dead can only teach."

There was a loud clap as Cassiopeia snapped her book shut.

"You didn't know, did you? Ironic isn't that for a woman whose sole occupation in this country is trading information and she doesn't know her niece is dead."

"I don't suppose you'll be kind enough to tell me how." she muttered.

"That depends on whether or not you'll tell me why you left."

"You know I can find out for myself."

"I doubt it."

As was often the case in these sporadic meetings the room was silent for an awkward moment. Cassiopeia and Phineas both stared at the crackling fire waiting for the other to speak first.

"You know you'll have to go either way." he paused. "So perhaps a deal can be struck." he finished quietly.

"What sort of deal?"

"I tell you what's been happening back home and you finally tell me why you hate your sister so much."

Cassiopeia turned her chair around to face her grandfather's portrait and hummed in agreement.

Phineas began to pace around the limited space within his frame, a habit he had picked up when lecturing students during his tenure as headmaster.

"As you know it's been almost nine years since the war ended. As you also know no one was ready for the way it ended. It was a mess, people woke up and it was over, the Dark Lady gone, a baby for a hero and a government in shambles. It is here where our problems began, to get the country back on its feet, corners were cut and proper protocols abandoned. Not all of them were for the 'good' of the country. Let's start with your mistakes."

"I didn't make any mistakes." Cassiopeia muttered.

"Didn't you? You shunned your duties by naming Walburga, a madwoman, Regent of our house. I think that we can both agree that was a mistake."

"What was I supposed to do? Andromeda decided to elope with that pitiful weakling, Bellatrix was awaiting trial and I would die before allowing that peacock Walburga forced Narcissa to marry near that title."

Phineas stared down at her for a moment.

"Perhaps you were supposed to do what you were supposed to do." He snarked. "You know taking your role as head of house as your brother willed-"

"It wasn't supposed to be me and you know it." she cut in. "Arcturus chose Dorea like he always did." she finished bitterly.

"Of course he chose Dorea between you and which one of you was actually married? Which one of you actually had a viable Heir?" He spat.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"Don't play coy with me, Cassie, you know exactly what it means. Did you honestly expect your brother to name you an old crone with no children born or otherwise the next head of house before your sister who obviously didn't share your desires to never have children instead?"

Though her face remained blank she winced internally, it didn't matter that he was a portrait, in any form he was still a Black and his tongue was just as sharp as any of them.

"Get on with your story will you?"

He smiled knowingly at her.

"Where was I? Ah yes, the madwoman you named Regent in your stead. In doing so you enabled her to finally act on her pathetic desire for revenge."

"What did she do?" she sighed.

"She 'reclaimed' Dorea and proceed to bar anyone from House Black to care for another member of House Potter-"

"I fail to see the problem with her overseeing Dorea's recovery and ensuring that nobody from our house would dare take care of that mudblood she allowed to marry her son." She said,

"Of course you can't see the problem, you're a fool." Phineas pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "If you had taken your position like you were told to then you would have access to the family tapestry like Walburga. It's not about the mudblood, it's about her son."

Cassiopeia's eyes widened at that last bit and Phineas hummed.

"Finally starting to realise the unfavourable position you put us in?"

She nodded.

"Good. Luckily for us, Walburga neither had the power to cast people from the family nor the desire to be a kinslayer."

"So what did she do?"

"You'll have to force her to tell you she was very vague about it when I asked but from what she bragged about my best guess if the situation hasn't changed since her death, is that Walburga left Dorea in the care of a private healer who was instructed to ensure Dorea never woke from her coma. She implied that Dorea is under the effects of Living Death but she was always a horrid liar being a portrait hasn't changed that. I find it more likely Dorea is under the 'Sleeping Beauty' curse."

"The Sleeping Beauty curse?"

"You're in Germany are you not? Perhaps you should put your connections to use and find out for yourself."

Even as she sneered at him she made a mental note to do just that.

"And the child? What happened to him?"

"Dumbledore." She rolled her eyes. "From what I was able to gather, he didn't want a member of our house to raise the boy. Instead, he gave him to his muggle Aunt."

"He doesn't have the authority to do so." she pointed out.

"Were you not listening when I said corners were cut." he sighed. "I also was able to gather that at best the child was neglected and at worst he was abused."

"Excuse me?" she hissed.

"What's this a little bit of righteous anger for the grandson of the sister you hate?" he mocked, his eyes alight with malice.

"He's just a child." she deflected.

"So was Dorea."

Phineas was never one to pull punches and that one had drained the fight right out of her.

"I suggest you write a missive to the sisters, Merlin knows you'll need their help."

Still a bit numb from the last comment Cassiopeia summoned an exquisite self-inking quill made from the feather of an eagle and several pieces of parchment and drafted several letters. A few minutes later she summoned a house-elf and gave the creature the letters to owl them to their recipients.

She leaned back in her chair and sighed she wasn't looking forward to returning to Britannia or for Dorea to wake up, not with the way their relationship had worsened since the end of Grindelwald's War, not that it had been great to start with.

"You know Cassie you still haven't kept up your end of the bargain." Phineas commented drawing her from her thoughts. "What did Dorea do to you?"

She scowled knowing she had to tell now, even if she could just leave her end of the deal unfulfilled, he would just go and ask Dorea when she woke up to get his answer. But she didn't want to talk about it with her grandfather who had never been the most understanding of people. So she stood up and made her way to the door. She paused as she turned the handle.

Even though she whispered it Phineas heard it.

"She spared my life." she spat bitterly.

Not waiting for a response she quickly left the room. As she strolled through the house on her way to bed lost in her memories from decades prior. It had happened during the last days of the war everything was falling apart and they were losing. They had met on the battlefield numerous times but had never fought each other, that battle had been different. They had fought and she had lost. She had been captured and her brother had been forced to trade her intel for amnesty for her part in the war. A deal that had inspired to establish an intelligence network of sorts here in Germany.

Nearly half a century later and she remembered the last time she and her sister had spoken to each other. She would have remembered it even without augmency.

Flashback

She knelt there on the blood-soaked and broken ground her body robbed of its ability to move. She was exhausted, blood dripped from the cuts that littered her person, every breath hurt and she felt like she didn't have the strength to cast another spell. Her body was broken even if her spirit wasn't.

Suddenly somebody grabbed her hair and tugged on it harshly forcing her bowed head to look up. Dorea looked as bad as she felt, she was also littered with cuts and burns though her breathing didn't sound as laboured. In the darkness of the night coupled with the sharp relief, the smouldering flames cast across their soot-covered faces Dorea's eyes seemed more sinister than usual.

She hated those eyes their mother had died giving birth to Dorea and yet out of the three siblings Dorea was the only one to have inherited their mother's eyes. Those same eyes were currently boring down at her with a loathing she didn't know her sister was capable of.

Despite the look in her sister's eyes and the glowing green tip of the wand placed on the bridge of her nose. Despite it all, she continued to glare defiance clear in her dark grey eyes. She was ready to die for what she believed in. She had given her best and it hadn't been enough, she had failed and wouldn't live long enough to see her fellow wixen finally stop hiding from the muggles.

Dorea pulled back and sheathed her wand before roughly grabbing her jaw making sure her eyes never left hers.

"Hello Cassie, it's been a while hasn't it?" Dorea crooned.

She said nothing, choosing to spit at her face instead or she would have if Dorea's magic and hand hadn't clamped her jaw shut so tightly.

"I can see it in your eyes. You're ready for this, to die at my hands no less. Unfortunately, you aren't going to die, not today at least."

"Mercy is for the weak." She managed to say through her clenched jaw.

Dorea's violet-blue eyes flash.

"I assure you this isn't an act of compassion nor is it one of justice. You should know better we're Blacks. Vengeance over justice." Dorea's sharp nails drew blood as they dug into the soft skin around her jaw.

"It's not my fault Marius was born a squib but you never cared and blamed me anyway. It was never my fault that mother and father wanted another child. Don't get me wrong I'm grateful for it but I wish our mother didn't have to die to make me possible. I wish I got a chance to meet her in person but at least it's her eyes that look back at me in the mirrors." She finished morosely.

Dorea let her go and began to pace a couple of feet in front of her before she turned around and kicked off her knees onto her back.

"You never could stand me and I'd like to say I can understand why, that we are kindred souls but I can't."

Dorea straddled her and fisted the front of her torn robes and bent over until her mouth was next to her ear.

"I can't because the little girl in me hasn't forgotten. She remembers it all vividly and that is why you won't die not by hand. Not while I can still make you suffer, not until you have nothing left for me to take but your life." She whispered.

When Dorea pulled back Cassiopeia could see the hints of madness bleeding through the edges of their mother's eyes. Dorea cocked her right hand back and delivered a brutal hook to her face.

"Mercy is for the weak. I want you to remember that."

Left hook

"I want to remember that little girl."

Right hook she could feel the blood pouring from her split lip.

"I want you to remember everything you do from now on. Every memory and every thought. Every dream and every nightmare. Every success and every failure. Every day you live and every night you sleep. I want you to remember that even every breath you take from this moment onwards."

Every sentence was accompanied by a vicious punch to the head. Dorea had stayed from her eyes obviously wanting to ensure she could see her clearly. She was pretty sure her jaw was broken in several places, blood poured from her ears and nose as well as several cuts on the back and side of her head.

Her injuries had finally taken a toll on her. The large amounts of blood she had lost, the pain spiking through her broken body didn't help. As she succumbed to the darkness encroaching her vision she still heard Dorea's last words before her world went black.

"I want you to remember that everything you do from this moment on is possible because I decided to spare you. That it's all possible because I decided to be merciful. That you weren't strong enough and that is why you are alive Cassie. So if you ever wonder why I spared you it's remember Mercy is for the weak."

Thanks for Reading

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Next Chapter - September 27, 2021

Arty's Note

Another chapter in the books. A deeper look into the state of the Black Family and how dysfunctional it currently is or always been

Deas-ghnàth fuil snaidhm - Loosely translates to the Ritual of Knotted Blood.

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