Blaise followed Mira out of the floo after only a few seconds. She'd only gotten as far as taking Druella's hands and kissing her cheeks with the usual pleasantries. Dru found this somewhat annoying — the pleasantries, not Mira's presence, she actually liked Mira (and Blaise) — but she gave no external sign of it. Mira, similarly, gave no external indication of the envy she was attempting unsuccessfully to quash: Druella still looked exactly the same as she had when Mira was Blaise's age, which meant Mira now looked substantially older than her. It was all the more frustrating because she knew there was no trick to it that she could learn for herself — she'd asked Bella what cosmetic charms and figure-maintaining potions her mother used when they were teenagers. Bella's response had been I think Cassie taught her how metamorphs avoid ageing, which was impossible, but so was a non-legilimens learning how to do true legilimency — attuning part of their mind to another person's to make contact directly, not with a charm — and Dru could definitely do legilimency. Super weird, overly-precise legilimency, but literally everything about Dru was super weird and overly precise.
I heard that, Blaise. She slipped the thought into the front of his mind almost as smoothly as Snape would have. He only noticed the contact because his mind's base-frequency had changed a little since the first time he'd visited — that was normal, it tended to happen as kids grew up — and Dru was still using the impression she'd made the first time he legilimised her. It had been an accident, he wouldn't have dared try to get into her mind on purpose, but he'd just been coming into the talent and he'd still been in the mind-wandering phase. Mira had warned her, but Druella apparently didn't mind if he practised on her, because it meant she could practise on him too, after she followed his initial probe back and formed an impression of the natural frequency of his mind. She claimed she couldn't do this on her own, find the proper resonance frequency of another person's mind, though Blaise wasn't sure why she shouldn't be able to. He'd asked Snape if theoretically a non-legilimens could learn legilimency, and the really impossible part was that she could make part of her mind adopt a different resonance frequency in the first place. That was, as far as Blaise could tell, pretty much the definition of being a legilimens.
Dru didn't respond, aside from a shiver of emotion Blaise interpreted as the mental equivalent of an exasperated shrug, because she had no idea why other people couldn't control their minds (or bodies, for that matter) the way she could, but she was positive that it was something she did consciously and deliberately, not an instinctive talent like it was for Blaise. I stand by everything about you being super weird.
That time, she didn't respond because she was distracted by Harry following Blaise out of the fire.
Mira hadn't told her why she wanted to stop by on their way to Protio Amedeo's home in Milan. Personally, Blaise didn't really feel they needed a reason. He would much rather visit Dru than Mira's parents and their extended family (most of whom were not very good at keeping their disapproving thoughts about Mira's lifestyle and Blaise's existence to themselves), but Mira was trying to be a mature adult and develop a stronger relationship with Alessandro and Constanza (again — she did this every other year or so, and it always went poorly; Blaise was giving it about thirty-six hours until she remembered that she hated practically everything about her parents and didn't actually want a stronger relationship with them), so she had RSVP'd yes to the Family Christmas Party.
Trying to follow Dru's thoughts was bloody impossible, Blaise just couldn't keep up.
He caught the impression of Harry's magic that the wards gave her, a flash of curiosity about who he was — obviously he was with Mira and Blaise, but Mira hadn't mentioned bringing anyone else, which was inherently suspicious, especially since it was clearly a young mage (Blaise didn't know how she could tell) and so far as Dru was aware, the only child Mira routinely associated with who Dru didn't know was Danny — she hadn't thought Mira was here for a favour, but she couldn't imagine why she would be bringing Danny (or any other child) here if there weren't a problem he needed her help with. (Which was absolutely accurate.)
He caught that Harry really looked a lot like Bellatrix — more than he'd picked up from Mira, whose later memories of Bella as an adult were much clearer than those from when they were firsties themselves — which led into a complicated tangle of memories tied together with frustration and fear, and a sense of kinship Dru didn't really feel with anyone else, even Narcissa. Andromeda, maybe, but she shut that train of thought down before Blaise could catch more than the sense of betrayal and...admiration? surrounding her middle daughter's decision to run away, still as sharp and poignant today as it had been twenty years ago. He got the feeling that Bella was more like Dru, though. She'd liked Andromeda better, but she had seen more of herself in Bellatrix (despite always having insisted that Bella was Cygnus's daughter).
That was followed by a whole slew of memories from the end of the war and inferences about exactly how Harry had come to exist — that Bella had used blood alchemy to make a (male) clone of herself — and why — what Dru knew of the state of the House of Black at the end of the war and today (all too quick for Blaise to follow, other than that she was pleased most of the Blacks were dead now) — and a quick comparison of Bellatrix and Sirius (because their similarities made him the obvious choice for a source of a male chromosome).
He caught that something in the way Harry stood, something in the way his eyes flicked to Blaise, gave away that he was Harry, not Danny — i.e., not the boy raised by Andromeda — and...somehow that he had been raised by Lily Potter's family in Surrey? (He had no idea how she'd put that together, Harry hadn't even told Blaise where his Aunt lived, it just hadn't come up, so...) which was apparently infuriating, but not because they were muggles, so Blaise didn't know what was going on there, and sparked a surprisingly strong sense of empathy and protectiveness — not that she wanted to have raised him herself, but the foster family Dumbledore had chosen was absolutely unacceptable, especially for her grandson.
And then there were a few...
Well, he didn't really know what those were, they didn't feel quite like memories or imagined scenes. Comparisons between Bellatrix as Dru remembered her and...sort of a half-imagined what-if version of her not raised by the Blacks, anyway. Probably trying to predict what Harry would be like? (More like an obscenely energetic version of Dru herself, she suspected. Probably still dark-minded and inclined toward Madness, but not a black mage, so...)
Bellatrix is a black mage?!
What? Yes, of course she is. She dedicated herself to Eris and sacrificed her 'humanity' to the Dark in exchange for a dramatically increased channelling capacity under a covenant which has since been broken. I suspect it physically remodelled some part of her brain to accomplish the latter, which required the former—
That train of thought spiralled off into a maze of information on neurology and magical development Blaise didn't have a hope of comprehending.
I honestly have no idea what she might have been like if she hadn't made the Choice. I never interacted with her when she was that young if I could help it, she admitted without a hint of shame. (Why would I be ashamed? I never wanted children. I couldn't stand them even when I was a child... — Blaise exercised every ounce of self-control to avoid following that thought into memories of Dru as a child, which was just the weirdest concept, honestly.) The elves insisted that she was a sweet little girl before making the Choice, but they were Black elves, so their standards for such things were almost certainly questionable.
Aloud she asked, "Mira, you are aware that there are easier, far more accurate methods of locating a person with whom you share blood than resorting to predictive arithmancy, are you not?" which seemed completely unrelated to anything else she'd just been thinking.
"Ehm...no?" Mira very obviously lied. "Well, yes, of course, but I suspect the Old Goat knows that too, and would have taken precautions against those methods, so I thought it was probably irrelevant, and, well...I hadn't told Andromeda yet, so..." She visibly wilted under Dru's disapproving stare, fidgeting and looking away, apparently legitimately uncomfortable, which was weird. Mira was never uncomfortable. Yes, Dru could make anyone feel inadequate, according to her daughters, but Blaise had never seen her do it to Mira before. "I'm sorry, Auntie," she muttered, switching to Italian. "I should have told you."
"Yes, you should have. But don't apologise to me, I'm not the one who consequently spent six years which might have otherwise been avoided in the middle of a magical cold-spot," she noted, maintaining her disapproval.
Mira sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry. If I had told Dru that Dumbledore switched you and Danny when I realised he had done so and asked her where you most likely ended up, we might have been able to retrieve you years earlier. The consequences of not doing so simply didn't occur to me at the time, and so I most humbly beg your pardon for my thoughtlessness and any unnecessary suffering it may have caused you. I promise to do everything in my power to aid you from now on in order to make amends for the harm caused by my earlier inaction."
"Er...thanks? I mean, it's fine, really. What's done is done, I wasn't going to hold it against you or anything..." Harry said, far more awkwardly than Mira once she began her formal apology. "Magical cold-spot?" he asked, both out of genuine curiosity and an obvious desire to change the subject.
Introducing yourself would have been a better option, Blaise thought at him. Now we're going to get caught up in a completely incomprehensible magic theory ramble.
But I like magical theory... Harry thought back, as Dru...
Oh, that was really weird. He hadn't noticed her making an impression of him, since he'd been legilimising her as well at the time (and had also just come into the talent himself), but he could definitely feel her following his probe to make contact with Harry's mind as well, that extension of her mind taking on the frequency of Blaise's where it passed through his, and then Harry's, which Blaise didn't think he could do, legilimising someone through someone else.
I'm sure you can. Serial legilimency is not substantially different from legilimising multiple other minds simultaneously in parallel.
I suspect that learning legilimency from the Dark Lord gave you unreasonably high expectations for what legilimens can do...
...Possibly. Ask your teacher, Dru suggested. He would certainly have a better idea what the average mind mage can do than I. "The Guildford-Woking-Farnborough triangle has an unusually low density of ambient magic. Still enough to perform wizardry, of course — even Albus Dumbledore would have noticed if he were leaving you in an actual vortex — but certainly noticeable enough to make a particularly sensitive mage feel perpetually under the weather."
I'm pretty sure humans aren't affected by a lack of magic like that... Blaise would definitely notice, but he was part demon, and he was pretty sure it wouldn't actually make him feel ill.
Dru didn't respond to that, because she still insisted that she was in fact human, but was starting to doubt it herself.
Well, either that or because she was distracted legilimising Harry. He was still really bad at not looking very obviously preoccupied when he was focusing on a mental conversation. Mira noticed, too.
"I suspect introductions are unnecessary?" she said, rather than point out that they were being rude leaving her out. Blaise caught an impression of uncertainty and anxiety, as though she wasn't entirely sure whether she was forgiven for not telling Dru about Harry. Since he clearly didn't think it was as big an issue as Dru, his acceptance of her apology might not count.
Dru gave her a small smile. (Apparently she was forgiven.) "Obviously. Please, do come in, sit," she offered, ushering them out of the floo vestibule and into the small front room of her Paris flat. "Something to drink?"
"Coffee, please, if it isn't too much trouble," Mira murmured, settling on the very edge of a sofa which was probably only ever used when they visited, her posture very correct — because she was still acutely aware that Dru was aware that she had screwed up, not telling her about Harry, even if Dru wasn't making a point of it. He joined her, leaving the armchairs which completed the little seating arrangement for Dru and Harry.
Blaise was pretty sure Dru didn't have guests very often. He didn't think she spent much time in here at all, actually. The sitting room was impeccably decorated in Dru's elegant, minimalist style — everything from the upholstery to the vertically striped wallpaper was shades of silver and grey, the coffee table frosted glass enchanted to hover at the proper height, the brightest point in the room a landscape depicting a heather moor in full bloom — and spotless, of course, and there were enchantments to refresh the air and so on, but there was still an un-lived-in feeling to it, like so many of the rooms at home that no one ever used.
"You know it's not," Dru noted drily. She wouldn't have offered if it were. As an independent academic, she wasn't really expected to provide the same degree of hospitality as she would as Lady Druella (of the House of Black or Rosier). It wasn't like she had house elves or human staff around to actually make coffee anymore, so not offering was a reasonable option. But it also meant that it wasn't horribly offensive to give them glamoured water instead of actual coffee, and providing that was hardly an imposition.
Granted, most people would just not offer, rather than give them obviously fake drinks (which was sort of declassé), watery or not cooling at a natural rate or just...noticeably glamoured (especially to Blaise — legilimens were harder to trick than normal people), but Dru's coffee glamour was only obviously fake insofar as it was too perfect. (In much the same way Dru herself was obviously faking being human.) She even did something to make it seem caffeinated, and Blaise had no idea how that worked. Supposedly an Invigorating Charm...worked into the water like a cantrip somehow? (He was going to have to ask Snape if that was a thing people could do too, and if so, why they didn't just do that instead of potions.) He was half-convinced it was actually just conjured, like the idea of coffee made manifest. She insisted that it was a glamour, and based on a cup of coffee she'd really had once, but Blaise was pretty sure no real coffee had ever actually tasted quite that good.
Well, the fact that it was too perfect, and the fact that she always did it right in front of them, with a few casual waves and flicks of her wand and the same easy grace she did everything else. Blaise watched through Harry's eyes this time, to see what it looked like with magesight. The answer was just...sort of blinding, the magic that swirled and condensed to form conjured cups not really fading before the other spells involved were cast. They looked very similar, though Blaise wasn't sure whether that was because the water was condensed from the air and then charmed and glamoured too quickly and smoothly to pick out the separate spells, or because it was just conjured coffee.
Harry couldn't tell, either. "I didn't think you could eat or drink conjured food!" he exclaimed.
Dru was in the middle of taking a sip to verify that it had turned out as perfectly as always, so Blaise managed to inform him that, "Food Druella conjures is fine," before she could answer.
She rolled her eyes at them. "I don't conjure food, and constituting food one can safely eat from base elements is hardly worth the effort, especially if one wishes said food to contain any nutrients to speak of. Glamouring water condensed from the air to resemble coffee is, on the other hand, child's play." Literally. I've been doing non-'caffeinated' versions of this spell since I was eight, she added, shooing away Blaise's attempt to determine whether she was telling the truth with legilimency.
Mira let out a little huff. "You haven't really managed to conjure food, have you? Make edible food out of air and dirt, or whatever, I mean," she corrected herself immediately.
"I have, yes," Dru admitted with a small shrug and an air of unconcern, despite this being completely impossible, so far as Blaise was aware. There were ways to make food with alchemy, but... "One of my colleagues did the difficult part, analysing the necessary molecular structures. Designing and reifying a charm to construct them was comparatively simple. Casting it, on the other hand, is rather too difficult both in terms of magical energy and intensity of concentration necessary to make it practical for widespread everyday use. We published on it two years ago in half a dozen journals, outlining the theory and reporting our initial success. It made a bit of a splash in certain circles. I understand a team at the University is working on refining the methodology to something the average mage can cast, but I was only assisting with the initial development as a favour to a colleague. My involvement ended at the proof-of-concept stage."
Blaise caught a flash of memory — Dru breaking herself out of the meditative state she entered to cast the spell which was absurdly complex and magic-intensive (orders of magnitude more than any other charm Blaise had ever heard of) to find that the several grams of foodlike molecules produced over the course of what felt to Blaise like hours had formed a small blob of unappetising goo she had no interest in presenting as food to anyone. Since Jonathan (the colleague) had seemed similarly unenthusiastic about sampling it, she'd transfigured its structure to resemble that of marshmallow foam and used a nifty little spell Thom (the Dark Lord) had invented to translate an emotional experience into a physical sensation to give it a flavour: standing on the cusp of the sublime, the beautiful, tragic awe inspired by witnessing a transient and unreplicable moment of perfection — complex but light; sweet, slightly smoky, and vaguely fruity, with just a hint of underlying bitterness (which brought out the sweetness all the more). It had seemed appropriate for the occasion of tasting the first charm-constructed foodstuff ever produced (so far as they were aware). It was, after all, a once-in-the-lifetime-of-a-people experience.
And she...regretted it, for some reason. Why?
She pushed the mental equivalent of an exasperated shrug at him. Because, if you must know—
I must. I didn't think you regretted things. Generally, the things people regretted were mistakes, and Dru didn't make mistakes.
I wouldn't consider it a mistake, precisely, since I couldn't have known how Jonathan would react in the long term, but if I had, I certainly wouldn't have used that particular inspiration to flavour the thing. He insisted that it was an absolutely transcendent experience, akin to witnessing the face of God, and he's been very awkward about the whole thing.
He had, in fact, been stalking her, Blaise realised, poking at the related memories. Following her around and begging her to let him have another taste — just one more glimpse of the very idea of perfection itself. (Yes, clearly he completely missed the point of the feeling behind the flavour.) She was avoiding the Alchemy Department as a whole, most of whom were now firmly convinced that Dru was, in fact, one of the Greater Fae and had enthralled their Department Head with a bite of faerie food. (Bloody idiots.)
I'm not sure the thing you should be concerned with here is your reputation or whether he missed the point, Blaise hazarded. I'm getting definite deteriorating sanity, probably going to escalate and try to murder you vibes from that guy. You've reported him stalking you, right?
Your concern is sweet, Blaise, but entirely unwarranted. You're not wrong that he did begin to escalate his attentions, but well. I'm sure you can imagine the effects of a harsh and unequivocal dismissal of the importance of one's existence by a person one is deluded into believing speaks on behalf of one's god. He attempted suicide over a year ago, and has been in hospital since, she assured him, with absolutely no emotional overtones at all. Just...cold. As I mentioned, very awkward.
Blaise shivered, just a little. Sometimes he forgot that Dru wasn't just scary-smart and impossibly good at magic, may-or-may-not-be-human scary, but actually scary in a friends with the Dark Lord, spent twenty years living with the Blacks, has probably intentionally murdered people way.
Her eyes flicked over to catch his over her cup. Thom and I hadn't been friends for quite some time even before Nineteen Eighty-One. She didn't comment on whether she'd murdered someone, which Blaise suspected meant she had. Not that he had any room to judge.
"That's so cool, though!" Harry exclaimed obliviously. "How does it work? I mean...you'd have to make the magic follow a pattern sort of continuously, right? and draw in stuff from outside, which I guess kind of sounds like some of the healing charms Madam Pomfrey was letting me read about when she thought I might be possessed—"
Mira shot Blaise a look, because he hadn't mentioned that Harry had been suspected of being under possession, because Snape had apparently known that he wasn't actually, the school healer had just been being paranoid. He wasn't sure how much of a difference it might have made if he had, either. Maybe Mira would've thought to warn Andi and she wouldn't have let him in on her Yule ritual, but Blaise sort of thought it was a good thing she hadn't?
Harry, at least, seemed happier now that he wasn't cut off from his Family Magic anymore and it was stable again, even if he had been a bit ill the past two days — Andi said he'd be fine after his body adjusted to...whatever it did to a person to ingest the ichor of a creature like Angelos — and he hadn't actually murdered Danny, so Blaise thought it was fine. (Very privately, avoiding letting the thought anywhere near Dru, because Harry might actually murder Blaise if he undermined his attempt to ask Dru for a favour by spilling the beans on everything that had happened over the past few days.)
"—but those just direct cells to do things they do anyway, and I thought one of the reasons they're so tricky is the cells are so small, but at least it's not like you have to actually control them all. Actual atoms are way smaller, and not alive, so you'd have to actually make them move around and stuff, right? But how do you even target a spell like that?"
Dru really couldn't help but smile at Harry's enthusiasm, which she clearly found slightly adorable, despite claiming to hate children. Granted, Harry didn't really count as a child any more than Blaise himself, and she really did like magical theory, but it was still a little surprising she actually explained. "Alchemic charms really have very little in common with healing charms. Crafting charms, particularly those involved in fabric production, are a far better parallel — spinning thread from raw fibres, weaving and knitting and so on. And atoms are hardly autonomous actors — they react perfectly predictably, assuming all relevant factors are taken into account in one's predictions. One of the fundamental principles of bioalchemy is that the interactions of the elements of life and non-life are a difference of scale and complexity, not of type.
"It's not necessary to target individual atoms if the framework created by the charm is correctly tuned to attract the desired elements — there are various ways to define the target components, I used the same O.H.E. derived definitions I would to conjure them — bringing them into a specific orientation relative to each other, after which mundane forces can be allowed to govern the reactive processes involved to achieve the intended result.
"Given that the molecules we intended to construct were relatively complex, the framing schemata are correspondingly specific, and the replication pattern uses multiple layers to ensure the correct proportions are produced. The forces involved are small, of course, but the individual 'actions' required to execute a single complete iteration of the pattern number in the thousands, making it both magically intensive and prone to slippage if the caster's concentration falters. The latter problem is exacerbated by the necessity of slowing the repetition rate to accommodate the limitations of the caster's channelling capacity, which of course extends the casting period considerably."
"Can anyone else actually cast this spell at all?" Mira asked, amused suspicion suggesting she anticipated the answer would be no.
"Two Charms Masters I know of have learned it. Independently of each other, it seems — both of them wrote to me afterward complaining about the slippage issue. Also a Brazilian craftswitch who weaves ghost tapestries. She was delighted by the concept, and wanted permission to adapt it to produce the spider-silk they use for weaving. Apparently it's in the same realm of technical difficulty as some of her more complicated pieces, though of course those require far more artistry. She mentioned that constructing super-fine strands of silk out of raw elements would be an excellent practice exercise for her apprentices, however, so I presume there are at least a few others who have managed it by now."
"Ah, I see," Mira said, nodding.
Dru raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you really?"
"Well, that this is a ridiculously difficult spell, yes. As far as how it works, you lost me at 'alchemical charms'," she admitted cheerfully. "I don't believe I've heard the term before."
The older witch gave her an exasperated sigh. "It's exactly what it sounds like, Mira. Using charms — magically motivated physical and metaphysical effects — to produce alchemical products, rather than traditional alchemical processes. You haven't heard of it because it's hardly been used for anything outside of academic circles. I doubt there were a dozen researchers in the world exploring the concept when you were a NEWT student. Producing alchemical foodstuffs directly rather than through resource-intensive traditional processes is one of the areas in which it may actually prove to be a superior methodology with real-world applications, rather than merely an academic curiosity."
"It's still really cool, though, even if it's not useful yet," Harry insisted. "And even if I only understood about a third of everything you just said."
Mira finished her coffee and set the cup aside with a disappointed little sigh. (Neither Blaise nor Harry had her self-control — both of their cups were long-since empty.) "'The perfect type of a perfect pleasure'," she quoted. Oscar Wilde, Blaise was fairly certain. "'Exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied.'"
Dru laughed. "Oh dear, you'll just have to come back and visit again. Perhaps even without whatever excuse brought you here on such short notice today. What a shame."
"You know I don't need an excuse to come visit you, Tia."
"I do. But I also know you have one, or you would not have brought Harry with you today. So. What's wrong?"
Mira pouted at her. "Oh, nothing urgent. Blaise and I are expected in Milan within the hour, so we can't stay, but I offered to bring Harry here and introduce him on the way. He has a favour to ask."
Harry's grandmother raised an eyebrow at him. "Well?"
"Well, it's kind of a long story, but I sort of told the Dark that I would do anything to save the Family Magic at Yule, so it did — the Family Magic isn't starving to death anymore — and in exchange I dedicated myself to serving it like Angie," Harry explained, with a positively absurd degree of casual unselfconsciousness. Maybe it would have been better for Blaise to clue Dru in ahead of time, if just springing it on her like that had been his plan all along. "Um. Angelos. Do you know her?"
"We've met," Dru admitted, sounding very unhappy about that fact. I am unhappy, yes, because if you recall several minutes ago, I was thinking about how much of a difference it would have made if Bellatrix hadn't dedicated herself to Eris.
Oh, right. I don't think he sacrificed his humanity, though? I mean, he hasn't been channelling more magic, and his personality doesn't seem any different. Maybe a little less stressed, but...
Hmmm..."Go on."
"Right, well, anyway. One of the things it asked me to do is kill Tom Riddle — the Dark Lord, I guess that's his real name — so the corruption ritual Lily turned back on him at Mabon back in Seventy-Eight will stop affecting Bella through their soul-bond thing and she'll leave Azkaban and stop being boring. And Angel said she couldn't tell me anything about how to do that because that would be telling — I guess gods aren't allowed to just give mortals all the answers to all their problems? — but I should ask you, because it's not telling if mortals ask each other questions, and yes, asking you is sort of cheating, but the Dark likes cheating cheaters who cheat, so. Is there anything you can tell me about why he didn't die completely and how I can fix that?"
Druella gave him a very unimpressed look. "You do realise you're essentially asking me to facilitate the resumption of a very bloody war which I was under the impression no one wanted to do."
"Please?"
Dru turned her glare on the younger witch. "Mira?"
"Well, no, I don't want the war to start up again, but I do want Bella back— You know she was less and less herself those last couple of years, and I feel terrible, I thought it was just...a natural decline, you know?" Dru nodded, her glare faltering as she briefly looked rather guilty herself. "And she did used to be reasonable, I'm sure I could reason with her, and you're right, really, no one wants to go back to fighting. And without Thom to coerce them into it with the Mark, I'm sure most of the surviving Death Eaters won't agree to rejoin the Cause — you know almost all of them wanted out by the end. And she would have practically no resources without them — not to mention, I'm sure it will take her some time to recover from Azkaban, I would have time to work on her. Without Thom, she won't have any incentive to continue the New Avalon project at all. Lily Potter is already dead, so she won't be able to go after her for revenge, and I think after so long, and with the tynged lifted, the impetus to lash out over his loss will have faded anyway. You know how she was about Cygnus. I honestly think I might be able to convince her to just travel for a while, or go join the University, or something."
"Or, without Thom holding her leash, she might decide it sounds like a good idea to set the sky on fire," Dru suggested. "I don't know, I can't predict anything when it comes to her!"
"So you'd rather leave her rotting in Azkaban under the influence of some corruption curse until she dies of old age or malnutrition or whatever people die of in Azkaban if they don't feel misery? And Thom out there in the world somewhere, half dead, completely mad, and trying desperately to claw his way back to power from now until forever?"
Dru sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing at her forehead. "No, of course not, but... I'll think about it. Run some numbers."
"But—" Harry objected.
His grandmother cut him off with a sharp glare. "I said I'd think about it, Harry. If the Dark wants me to help you, and by extension it, it will simply have to wait until I decide how best to do so. It's been ten years already, a few more hours or days are hardly likely to make a substantial difference."
Harry shut up, making a very obvious effort to look respectful, and not like he was severely annoyed she hadn't just said "yes." This was just as obvious to Dru and Mira as it was to Blaise, but Dru didn't care as long as he wasn't going to nag her about it. "Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. In the meanwhile, I'd like to have a word with Albus Dumbledore; and Mira, I believe you have a family function to attend?"
"Ah, yes. Yes, I do. You'll...let me know? Please?"
Dru sighed. "Yes, Mira. Give Alessandro and Constanza my regards — and when you come back the day after tomorrow to get drunk and cry over their continued inability to accept you for who you are, I'll tell you what we're going to do."
Mira bit her lower lip anxiously. "You really think it's going to go poorly?"
"Of course it's going to go poorly. It always goes poorly. And though I doubt you'll remember it in the moment, it's never your fault. They poisoned the well when they had those obscene compulsions forced on you as a child. Quite frankly, I'm shocked Bella and Thom didn't simply kill them and put them out of your misery decades ago."
Mira gave her a weak smile. "Bella offered when we were fifteen. I told her not to, for Gio's sake. He deserves to have a family, even if I can't make it work."
"You've got me," Blaise reminded her. "And Dru and Harry and Nicky." Blaise was almost certain Dominic Prieto was his sire. They had the same eyes, and Nicky was the only person other than Bella whom Mira truly considered a friend. Harry seemed surprised to be included, but he was her godson, so. Andromeda and Narcissa and their children probably counted too, though the only one of them who really appreciated Mira's presence in their lives was Doriel.
Dora, he corrected himself — he still wasn't used to thinking of the metamorph as female. They'd only decided to present themselves as female most of the time when they'd graduated and joined the Aurors, because constantly explaining to new people that yes, this person who looks very much like a bloke today is actually Nymphadora Tonks, and yes, they're a metamorph, was sort of a pain. Mira had won them over in about ten seconds flat calling the androgynous teenage shapeshifter Doriel, rather than Dora or Dorian.
Also, he was pretty sure Dora had a crush on Mira. Not particularly unusual, Mira was very fanciable, but it did mean the metamorph appreciated her coming around a bit more than Andi and Cissa.
"Yes, and maybe Bella. Hopefully," she added, giving Dru a pointed look.
"Maybe. Go — being late is hardly likely to get the impending train-wreck off to a good start." That startled a laugh out of Harry, who was the only person present who hadn't already seen this show multiple times. "I'll see you in two days."
Blaise was fairly certain that Mira drew out the farewells as long as possible because she really didn't want to get to Milan any more than he did, but they did eventually make their way back to the floo, leaving Harry and Dru giving each other sidelong looks when they thought the other wasn't watching, and Blaise rabidly curious about what, exactly, Dru wanted to say to Dumbledore.
He was guessing it wasn't "Happy Christmas".