"So," Bellatrix said, plopping onto the sofa beside Sirius, apparently out of nowhere. "Have you given any thought to a marriage alliance?"

Before Sirius could formulate a response that wasn't just Fuck you, Bellatrix, Mira called for her from somewhere toward the front of the flat. Thank God. He'd been avoiding this for weeks — it was one of the last few things on her list of House Black Issues that Must Be Addressed (And Can Be Addressed Before the Trial Concludes).

But, well...there were few things Sirius wanted to do less than discuss marriage alliances. He hadn't wanted to discuss them with Arcturus when he was Little Bella's age, and he certainly didn't want to discuss them now. Especially since she seemed to think his marriage should be the focus of such a conversation. If they were really going to do this whole Noble and Most Ancient House of Black thing, it would be far more reasonable, given their relative ages, to be discussing her marriage prospects.

He'd thought he'd had her there, that she would defer the conversation rather than become the subject of it, but that had lasted all of two bloody seconds. Oh, I won't be getting married. Actually, wait, no, maybe Theo Nott. I'll ask around, see if he's spoken for yet. Your turn.

(He'd fled.)

"Just a minute, Zee, we're in the middle of something!"

"No, Lyra, right now!" Sirius had known Mirabella Zabini pretty much as long as he could remember. He didn't think he'd ever heard her sound stressed before, but she definitely sounded a bit tense, there.

Bellatrix obviously heard it too. She looked to the door, apparently startled. "This conversation is not over," she informed him before stalking away.

He followed, of course. He wanted to know what was going on, especially if it was important enough to make Mira worry.

"What is it, Zee?" Bella asked, then stopped in the doorway so suddenly he nearly ran into her. "Er, hi?"

That might be the least articulate thing he'd ever heard her say, though as she regained her senses enough to get out of the way, he immediately understood why. There was a...he didn't even know what, something that looked like a witch — a waifish, dark-haired, light-eyed woman who appeared to be about twenty years old — but had a darker aura around her than any human he'd ever met, including Bellatrix and fucking de Mort. A vampire? Some kind of demon? No, demons weren't known for their skill at blending in, and she looked like she could be a muggle who'd just stepped in off the street — probably a vampire.

Though he'd never seen a vampire with freckles before.

"The Acting Head of House Black, I presume," she said, sounding faintly amused.

Bella bowed. Actually, properly bowed, according the stranger a status on par with a foreign dignitary. Did she actually know who — or what — she was? "Lyra Black, at your service. This is Sirius Orion." She gestured at him. "He's the actual Head of the House, he's just currently a fugitive. If I might enquire...?"

"Oh, Envoy will do, I think, for the moment. Lord Black," she added, catching his eye and giving him a nod. God that was weird.

He nodded back, warily. "Envoy. Ah...Envoy of what? Or whom, I guess?"

"The Miskatonic Valley Magical Collective."

Oh. Oh fuck. The urge to pop into Padfoot's form and hide under a desk somewhere had already been there, at the back of his mind — standing even this close to the envoy was reminding him of the bloody dementors, that creature-dark aura making his skin crawl — but that little phrase made the urge nigh unbearable. Miskatonites were fucking scary. Literally all of them. Completely amoral madmen obsessed with studying the darkest, most terrifying magics, every one, and they tended to kill each other off often enough that only the most dangerous survived to continue their evil experiments. No wonder Mira had sounded off.

"Lyra, would you happen to know why Miskatonic is sending envoys to my doorstep?" she asked, her voice still tight, not quite hiding her disapproval and fear.

Bella, of course, was unphased. Likely because she'd fit right in at Miskatonic. "Uh...no?" she said, dropping onto a sofa, her brief flirtation with propriety apparently over. "I haven't done anything to annoy the Dean...I don't think?"

"No, Leslie found your letter most amusing, in fact."

"Letter?" she repeated.

Mirabella waved a bit of parchment at her before reading off, "I am pleased to therefore extend an invitation to the University to choose a representative to serve as an impartial judge, in the name of global international cooperation. Is this ringing any bells?"

Bellatrix sniggered. "Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Does this mean you're sending someone?"

"What the— The Triwizard judges were determined over a year ago! The Heads of the three schools, Crouch from International Cooperation, and someone from Games and Sports!"

"Yeah, whoever decided that needs to reconsider their definition of the word impartial."

Wait, she'd just...changed the judges for the bloody Triwizard Tournament?

"When— How— Why...?"

Yes, that!

"Remember when I was a bit mad over Easter and you told me I could come up with new wards for you and came here so you didn't have to deal with me? Well, I happened to come across a certain file while I was measuring your study. And, um...it seemed like a good idea at the time? I mean, it must have, or I wouldn't have done it. So, is the University going to send someone?" she repeated, grinning brightly at the vampire.

"The matter was put to a committee. It was determined that we could hardly deny such an opportunity to further international cooperation. Assuming the invitation is legitimate."

"Which you are here to determine," Bella guessed. The envoy nodded.

"Exactly how offended would the University be if it wasn't?" Mirabella asked, her voice impressively even. Sirius was still fighting the urge to flee.

"That depends entirely upon who else has been invited to judge, and whether they accept."

"Lyra?"

"The three Heads, that's Dumbledore, Karkaroff, and Maxime; Cassie Lovegood; Perenelle Flamel; and a representative from the ICW. Two light, three moderates, two dark, assuming the University sends someone. One from each school, one British expatriate, not sure where the ICW judge will be from — not any of the schools' catchment areas, if they're being political about it — Flamel's so old I doubt she has any patriotic incentive to support France or Britain, and obviously the University representative would be an outsider as well. And there's a pretty broad range of expertise. You've got Dumbledore for transfiguration, alchemy, and arithmancy; Karkaroff for healing, potions, offensive and defensive magic; Maxime's an enchantress, so charms, transfiguration, arithmancy, runes; Lovegood obviously knows her offensive magic and dueling, specifically focused on light charms and elementalism, though I'd be shocked if she hasn't fought enough dark wizards to judge offensive and defensive magic in general. And Flamel...honestly, six and a half centuries is a long time. I think the only thing she doesn't do much of is offensive magic."

Mirabella, on the other side of the room, was looking rather pale. Sirius could sympathise. Those weren't exactly the sort of people one said no to, if they chose to involve themselves in whatever you were doing. The least impressive among them was Cassie Lovegood, and she was a top-ranked international duelist when she wasn't battling would-be Dark Lords all over the bloody world.

"I asked them all to get back to you in time to choose alternates, if they were declining to participate, so I'd guess they're going to be there if you haven't heard anything yet. Or maybe they wrote directly to Crouch — I did say that further communications would be through his department, didn't I?"

"Oh, we would certainly be offended if the ICW were allowed a representative, and the University's invitation revoked," the vampire said, smirking very slightly.

Mira glared at Little Bella before turning back to the envoy "Of course the University's invitation hasn't been revoked. Though I will have to refer you to the Department of International Cooperation regarding the details of visas and diplomatic amnesty. I suppose it's too much to hope that you'll send someone who's not wanted by the ICW for crimes against humanity?"

"Oh, yes. We could hardly send a student to handle such a delicate diplomatic situation as this. But I believe your Lady Cromwell burnt the outstanding warrant for my arrest in Britain, so it should be a relatively simple matter."

Mirabella's eyes widened slightly. "You are the judge they've chosen to represent them?"

The envoy nodded, just once, still smirking. "I understand the local regulations regarding dark magic will be relaxed for the duration of the Tournament?"

"Ah...yes, but...probably not enough to condone feeding on humans. Even if you do leave them alive."

The vampire's smirk broadened. Had Miskatonic deliberately chosen a judge they knew would be refused, just as an excuse to cause trouble with the ICW?

"She's not a vampire, Zee."

Mirabella looked almost as surprised to hear that as Sirius was. "What is she, then?" he hissed, leaning over the sofa to get nearer to her ear.

Not close enough that the envoy didn't overhear, though. Her laughter was far too light and tinkling to match her aura. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Sirius Orion. We've spoken before, if you recall."

"I'm quite certain I would, if we had."

"I suppose you could think of me as the yes part of 'yes and no.'" What? She sighed. "And we were so very close to overwhelming the Evans girl, too."

Sirius felt his eyes go wide as he scrambled as far from the entity in the chair as he could, only stopping when his back hit the wall — it wasn't a conscious decision— "Y-You're the Dark? But— How?"

She laughed again. Giggled. "Ask her," she said, nodding at Bellatrix.

"I have no idea," Bella said, preemptively. Still stupidly calm, as though the Darkness Itself standing in their parlor was hardly cause for alarm.

The bloody Dark paused for a moment, blinking at her in confusion. Then its expression cleared. "Oh, right — it's still Ninety-Four. Well, give it a couple of years. Now, I really must be off, I expect I'll see you all in Britain."

"Of course," Bella said, rising to bow again. "Envoy."

The bloody Dark nodded. "That reminds me, you may be informal with me, little sister, but if I'm coming back to Britain, I will need you to stop using my name. It's causing all manner of confusion in certain circles, you know."

Little sister?! What the fuck was that supposed to mean?! (The Dark Itself did not just confirm that Little Bella was a black mage...did it? Because he...kind of thought it had, which just...fuck!)

She vanished before Bellatrix could come up with a response, which was probably just as well, because as soon as the oppressing darkness left the room, she jumped on the sofa, kneeling to face him over its back, grinning like a lunatic. "Siri, Siri — do you know who that was? Do you have any idea?"

"Uh...the Dark?"

"Well, yes, but the person." Before he could think of a response she ran out of patience. "Angélos Black — that was Angel fucking Black." Angélos Black as in, the one who'd gone on a teenage murder spree and vanished without a trace in 1502?! "I didn't even know she was still alive. And she's going to be at Hogwarts next year! This is so much better than I expected, sending those letters! I have to go tell Blaise!" She bounced out of the room cackling like the tiny little madwoman she was.

Mirabella, who had been standing frozen in a corner since he'd identified the Dark, collapsed into a chair. "Bloody hell."

Sirius, unable to really think through the implications of what had just happened — and entirely unwilling to try — crept forward to fall onto Bella's vacated sofa. "You have to admit, that was the most Bellatrix thing you've ever seen," he said. It was the first thing that came to mind. Well, that and, at least now he didn't have to talk about his marriage prospects.

"She's not Bellatrix," the witch said, rather absently. "That would cause all manner of confusion." Was– Was that an admission?! It sounded like — one implying that not only was "Lyra" Bellatrix, but also that she knew the other Bellatrix was still alive! (Which of course, she knew, but hadn't really confirmed that she knew.) "But yes, it is hard to see the differences, sometimes." She gave him a rather nostalgic, dreamy-eyed smile. "If she was Bella, though, her reaction might have been the most child-like thing I've ever seen from her, even when we were children." She sighed. "So adorable."

"You know, your thing with Bella was creepy even when you were the same age."

"Oh, shut up. Lyra just...reminds me of simpler times, I suppose." Then she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Crouch is going to kill me. And Bones. And Fudge. And Dumbledore..."

"Yeah, make sure you take a picture when you tell the Old Goat that an embodiment of the Darkness Itself will be sharing a table with him for the judging."

Mira groaned again, very dramatically. "Oh, fuck me..."

"Is that an invitation?" he asked, completely automatically. He certainly hadn't expected her to take it seriously, looking up and eyeing him like that— Not that he was complaining. The past thirteen years hadn't made Mirabella any less of a fox.

"I'm a married woman, now, Sirius," she said, smirking, in a tone that was definitely flirting.

"How much does that matter, on a scale of eating you out to forget I ever said anything?"

She laughed at that, rose to her feet and headed for the door without responding. Sirius sighed. At least his teasing had cheered her up a bit. It wasn't like he'd actually expected it to go anywhere. So it was a legitimate surprise when, half a second later, she stuck her head back through the doorway.

"Are you coming or not?"