Chapter 32: So That's A Thing
July 10th, 1992 (Friday)
Location: Granger's House - Heathgate, Hampstead
The small spill was promptly cleaned up – without the use of magic after a stern look from Hermione – before the trio sat down to discuss Meissa's new (not so new) status as Lady Black.
"Okay…" Hermione leans forward so she can prop her head up on her hands. "You got yourself emancipated – I don't see how that can be a thing because we're only twelve years old but I digress," she mutters that last bit under her breath but it was still audible to the Slytherins, "because you decided you needed to become the Head of your House?"
"That's putting it mildly," Meissa agrees with a slight click of her tongue. She glances at her fellow Slytherin to gauge her thoughts. The other girl still looks closed off but the fact she's ever so slowly relaxing means that soon enough her best friend will be back.
Judging by Daphne's actions, she can figure that the blonde is likely the Family Heir and, possibly, the Magical Heir for one of her parents – it's rare to be able to resonate with more than one parent. Asking the other girl for a confirmation is… well, it's just not done. Instinctively she knows that she's her mother's Heir – one day she'll find out what exactly that means. Her mind flashing back to the memory of her own mother saying that she's her 'one true heir'.
"That's rubbish," Hermione declares, all but slamming a hand down. "We're twelve!" She jabs a finger at Meissa. "YOU JUST TURNED TWELVE!"
"You don't have to shout," Meissa retorts calmly, idly tapping a finger against the tabletop, intentionally using the forefinger with the signet ring. The old blessed iron is not flashy in the slightest, but it draws attention to itself just for being cloaked in magic older than modern Magical Britain. "I'm fully aware of my age," she drawls as she continues tapping. "The disadvantages of my age has been something I've considered day in and day out."
She considers her next words. "Once my title has been announced," she gets a side look at this from both of her friends, "anyone who is interested will be testing me." She doesn't bother going into the details of what kind of tests those may be. Each House have their own methods of testing potential alliances. "Some of the friends I have made before will now shun me. Just because my House is notoriously aligned with the Dark." She clicks her tongue at this, reminding herself firmly that she'll need to fix that at the earliest convenience.
"You have friends besides us?" Daphne asks straight faced. The laughter only burst free when Meissa reaches over and shoves her for the remark.
"Wait, wait," Hermione interrupts before they can get carried away – the blonde having been seconds away from retaliating. "Why would they – I thought its when you Declare that things start to change?"
"Yes and no." Meissa glances at Daphne for guidance. "Before we had only spoken about when a Witch or Wizard Declare."
"What Meissa is trying to say, that each Family will usually be Light or Dark – although politically there are also Neutral."
"Which would be considered Undeclared," Meissa chimes in but ultimately content to let Daphne take the lead on this one.
"Every individual has the ability to choose but it's usually heavily influenced by their Family's alliance."
"So… The two of you are likely to Declare Dark?" Hermione mutters, thinking.
"Exactly."
"So to reiterate, your House can influence but you don't necessarily have to Declare for the same side as your House?" She gets a nod from both of her friends. "In response to you…" she fumbles for a word before settling, "taking on your mantle, alliances need to be made?"
"Essentially." Meissa taps her finger, thinking. "Of course, not everyone will want an alliance. Some will probably just avoid interacting with me."
"That's not much different than before," Daphne remarks under her breath – just barely loudly enough for Meissa to hear. She gets a flick from the raven-haired girl in response.
Hermione has an expression that just screams she's gearing up for a rant. A part of her acknowledges this but she doesn't take any preemptive actions to stall or divert the Gryffindor. Maybe, if she looks back at this later, she'll rationalize that part.
"It doesn't make sense to me," Hermione finally declares after her expression has settled onto 'I'm furious about this and don't talk me out of it'. "Why does your House political stance influence your personal choice?!" The Slytherins exchange looks but stay quiet as Hermione continues. "And for that matter, you still haven't explained why you had to be the one to take on the title!" That's a new level of pitch for the Gryffindor. "You're basically telling me that you'll be judged for what your ancestors did and THAT'S NOT OKAY!"
So maybe they've left her go on a bit too long – it hadn't even been that long.
Meissa thinks, for a brief second, that her lioness of a friend is too fierce for her own good.
"'Mione," she intones evenly, leaning forward as she catches the other girl's attention. "Take a deep breath for me," she instructs, steadfastly ignoring the glare she got for that. She keeps her gaze steady until Hermione gives in and takes a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing as she exhales. "You might be right," she starts firmly, catching the Gryffindor's attention, "but there's a lot at play that we haven't told you yet. Some isn't easily explained. How does one explain a matter that extends as far back to the days of Merlin?"
She doesn't give Hermione a chance to debate it.
It's not one she considers debatable. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"Magic grows and changes as the bloodline continues – do we know why? No – I have not seen anything on the matter. Maybe you will find the answer to it. Maybe no one will. But the point is, magic follows the bloodline. It's shaped by how the Family uses it. It's shaped and passed down from generation to generation."
She taps her finger on the table, her gaze fixated on the Gryffindor as Hermione's eyes dart down to the signet ring.
"If the Family has been Declared Dark for generations…"
"Then, the next generation will be inclined to follow," Hermione mutters softly, coming to the conclusion Meissa was building her to. "It's not right," she whispers, seemingly deflating.
"It might not be but… it's not necessary for one to follow in the family's footsteps." She ignores the sidelong look from her fellow Slytherin as Hermione levels a long gaze at her.
"That's a fair point," she concedes, deflating.
"I've been known to make some at times," she jokes, earning an eyeroll from her two friends. She gives them a sly grin before refocusing. "Regardless, things will change. Students that I've never spoken to before will be testing me. Students that I could have been friends with will shun me."
Hermione is frowning again.
She doesn't quite know how to make her not frown. At a bit of a loss she turns to Daphne for help.
"Would it help to know why?" Daphne questions softly, glancing at Meissa. Prompting her to realize for the first time that maybe she hasn't touched onto the reason driving her to do all of this.
It's not just one reason.
"It might…"
Meissa taps her fingers on the table, mentally gathering her reasons and trying to judge which will be best to share.
"The easiest answer," she starts in a tone that sounds too wistful, "is the fact that there's no one else."
"Easiest?" Hermione asks at the same time as Daphne's "No one else?"
"My House – I'm not sure if this is true for any other Houses – have a set of rules that… restrict who can be Lord or Lady of the House." She runs a thumb against the ring, lightly feeling the runes along the surface. "With all of my Uncles and Aunts' recent deaths I've… well, I've come to the realization that there isn't any one else eligible to take on the Title."
"But why does it have to be now?"
"Because life is too short."
She doesn't like the looks she gets from her friends. But it's her honest opinion.
Most of the magical population can easily live to their second century.
Many of those in her family haven't reached their hundredth birthday from what she can figure. She doesn't know why. Is it because they've bred too closely? Is it because they're insane in ways that just cuts their lives short tragically?
She doesn't know.
What she does know, however, is that Daphne and Hermione would not appreciate such a blunt statement about her family's life expectancy - of her own life expectancy. She mentioned it once before - she doesn't quite remember if she said it to one or both - and got scolded for thinking like that.
Hermione is looking at her as if she's seeing someone new.
"Life is too short?" Daphne repeats incredibly, her eyes narrowing at her. Meissa has a brief second to feel a chill of fear stab her in the heart. "Do you expect to die young?" Daphne asks, the sheer frostiness of her voice can scare the years off anyone.
"I don't expect to," Meissa words carefully. "But, waiting until we've graduated Hogwarts. It'd be a waste to wait - it's six years I could be using to rebuild the House, the Family into something better than it is and ever was."
The girls look at each other in silence after Meissa's words. The raven haired girl just stares at her friends unflinchingly, unrepentant of her decisions. Hermione still looks as if she believes that this is a matter left for adults - for anyone who isn't a twelve-year old. Daphne's expression is relatively neutral, possibly absorbing Meissa's motives.
"What do you need from us?" Daphne asks, her eyes steady on Meissa's own. Steadfastly ignoring Hermione's wide-eyed stare. Meissa smiles at her fellow Slytherin's comment, feeling a bit of confidence restored due to the blonde's show of support.
~MJB~
So I'm aware that I've been quiet for quite some time. I'm sorry for that. But if it's any consolation I have the next chapter ready for November! Hopefully the writers bug I have right now will carry me through Autumn/Winter!
As always, let me know what you think in the comments below!