Leg shaking nervously, she kept her eyes on the scenery outside of the train window. The leaf felt heavy in her mouth, sticky and rough, but she had gotten used to the urge to swallow it, shrugging off the compulsion.
The scenery had changed from the countryside to multiple, worn out houses standing in rows and they could see people walking around. Soon they would arrive in London.
Her leg started to bounce faster. One more day, just one.
"I want to write, but the Ivory Coast isn't exactly close." Said Liz, pushing her book back in her bag. "I can't make Lady Hoot travel that distance more than once, it would be animal abuse."
The train was driving slower now, London coming into sight, and she had to rub her hands against her pants to get rid of the warmth and moisture. Less than a few minutes and she would come face to face with her grandmother.
Removing her wand from her holster, Liz waved it and levitated her own trunk off the rack.
"Did you know the Djinn is native there?" Liz continued, putting the trunk on the floor. "I'll take lots of pictures, don't worry."
Cassius stood up next, also levitating his trunk down. She stayed rooted in her spot, her eyes flickering over the platform that slowly came into sight. There were groups of parents already gathered and the green light of the fireplaces was flickering in the distance, indicating more were arriving.
She was suddenly very aware of the leaf resting on her tongue, more so than she had been over the last month. Her heart was beating heavily and she could feel the tingles going from her chest to the tops of her fingers. Twenty-six hours, thirty-five minutes, and a few seconds. That was all it took before it was midnight again and the full moon would allow her to remove the green from her mouth.
It was little time in the face of how long she had been walking around with it already, but still too much for it to possibly go wrong.
"I'm going to Mykonos this summer." Cassius grinned at Liz. "Dai LIewellyn was eaten by a Chimaera there. You know, the Welsh Beater from the Caerphilly Catapults."
Liz deadpanned at him. "Do try not to get eaten by one yourself, they will appear in our next year's curriculum. It would be incredibly ironic."
"No worries," Cassius said, still grinning. "Mother arranged the whole trip. My brothers, their wives, and their children are coming too. We are staying at this resort…"
She didn't hear more, the blood rushing in her ears. Her limbs felt frozen, petrified, glued to the seat, and she was aware of every second placing them closer to the platform. It was almost like everything was happening in slow motion. There had never been a bigger desire to turn back time, turn it back until they were still driving past landscapes, not already pulling up into the station.
Go back, go back, go back. Don't go further.
The little faces came closer and closer until she could observe the features of every person waiting for their loved ones. The trains slowed down and a voice went over their heads, announcing their arrival.
"Are you coming?"
Cassius' voice rang out like a knife, cutting through her perception, and the world around her came back into view, crystal clear. The train had come to a halt.
Liz and Cassius were already out the door, both trunks standing in the hallway and Liz made a gesture at a group of people to move around them. Before she could answer, Cassius had reached for his wand and levitated her trunk down too.
"I got it." He let it float behind him and picked up his own with his other hand. "Let's go, Tuttle."
Getting off the train never felt more nerve racking. She got out after Cassius, looking around for any sign of a familiar face. Getting it over with was the best thing to do.
"I see my father." Liz turned around first, giving them both a smile and a short wave. "I'll write."
Dragging her trunk behind her, she quickly disappeared in the crowd, leaving Cassius and her to look for their families.
For a second she thought she saw her grandmother, but it was another old woman, shorter, but just as grey, who seemed to march through the crowd. Longbottom stumbled in line behind her, struggling with his trunk.
"That's my mother." Cassius gestured at a blond woman, dressed in a velvet red coat and distastefully big, diamond earrings. "Here, don't forget your trunk."
He lowered his wand and her hand automatically came to rest on the handle, her eyes focused on the woman ahead. She had only ever seen Cassius's mother in passing and from what she saw she looked like most pureblood women, if not a bit out of place. Maia couldn't put her finger on it precisely, but Cassius' mother had a certain way of going about. Whenever it was the rather large updo of sandy blond hair, the overabundance of jewellery, or the dark red lipstick. As far as old pureblood families went, it looked rather tawdry.
The woman saw Cassius first, before her eyes flickered to her, looking her up and down. Blue eyes, the same as Cassius, lit up with recognition and she started to make her way towards them, waving at Cassius to stay put.
"Oh, no." Cassius turned to her, pulling her in a quick hug. It was extremely out of place and sudden and, before she could remove herself, he released her.
"Don't ask." With that he grabbed his trunk and hurried towards his mother, stopping her in her ascent towards them. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but the mother looked over his shoulder to her a few times, frowning at Cassius.
Then a voice came up behind her. Suddenly and all at once, her heart jumped up in her throat and her whole body froze, the air halting on the way into her lungs. This was it.
Stiffly, she turned around, pushing the leaf under her tongue as well as she could. Don't talk, but don't be obvious. Hide it, but not too much. Maybe she should just start making her way to the fireplaces, the consequences be damned?
But it wasn't her grandmother.
"Mistress Black." Kreacher bowed in front of her, his pillowcase wrapped around his shoulders. "Kreacher is here to guide Mistress back to the house."
Saying relief washed over her would be an understatement. There was nothing in this world she would rather have seen than the house-elf and she had to grip her trunk extra tight for stability. Why wasn't her grandmother there? Where was she? Was she waiting at home?
"Grandmother?" Trying not to sound like she actually had something in her mouth, she kept it short.
Kreacher bowed again, but he seemed to understand her. "Lady Matthieu is attending a dinner. She will be back later tonight."
Merlin.
The tension was lost in her shoulders and her eyes closed for a second. She had never put much faith in destiny, more inclined towards determination, but in that moment she felt like she could rethink her position.
The feeling took only a second and, arriving home in the onset of familiar green flames, she made a straight line towards her bedroom. Classes would start again on Monday, she could avoid her grandmother until tomorrow, and she would spend the whole Saturday locked in her room, focusing on getting the next step ready.
She couldn't rely on destiny being on her side forever.
"Amato Animo Animato Animagus." The tip of her wand felt hot against her chest. Hotter than the rising sunlight coming through her window, or the already discarded bedsheets.
Waiting for a sign of something that felt like a second heartbeat, nothing came of it. Again.
Slowly she removed her wand from her chest, taking a breath and standing from her bed. One day it would be there, she had to be patient.
Two weeks into the holiday, it had quickly become part of her routine. Classes had started again, her grandmother not taking her wand away this time because they couldn't afford to make her go through her summer classes without one again. It was a blessing in disguise, because it also meant she had to catch up to the things she had missed.
The one other upside was that the handful of classes she had focused on started to touch upon the subject of reviews, giving her a clear sight of the finish line. She was getting there and it was almost too good to be true.
"Mistress Black?"
"Come in, Kreacher." Fastening her blouse buttons, she heard the door open behind her. "What is it?"
"Lady Matthieu requested you eat breakfast in the dining room." From the reflection in the mirror she could see Kreacher bow, waiting for her answer.
"Did she say why?" The green cufflinks were new, but she hadn't been able to resist them. The emeralds reflected the sun, making her fingers trace over them almost adoringly.
"You received letters, Mistress." Kreacher came up from his bow, hands clasped in front of him.
That made her raise an eyebrow, turning around to face Kreacher. "She hasn't opened them yet?"
"No, Mistress."
"Mmm." Grabbing her waistcoat from the chair, she waved her wand, the last of her dressing ritual finished in a simple second. "I'll be down in a minute. You can leave."
"Yes, Mistress." Kreacher bowed again, but she barely saw it, already out of the door.
Walking down the stairs, she traced the engravings on the marble balustrade. It had to be a sign of armistice, at least. But did her grandmother truly think the whole matter could be resolved with a few unopened letters and breakfast?
Ah well, she couldn't help but think that maybe it could. It would most definitely remove the attention from the potion phial, hidden in a wooden jewellery box underneath a bunch of necklaces and covered in protective spells.
The subject was forcefully pushed out of her mind, almost as quick as it had come. She shouldn't think about it, it was part of the ritual. Luckily, she was further distracted by the sight of the dining room, the doors already open. Walking inside, she could see her grandmother at the head of the table, reading the Prophète du Monde. While, just like Kreacher said, on her plate there were three letters. With the seals still intact.
She could see that one was from Liz, one from Cassius, and one from Hogwarts. The usual.
Without saying a word, she opened Liz's first, which only talked about how her mother had dragged her and her sister to visit her aunts and uncles, instead of spending the whole day at the water looking for Djinns. Cassius, on the other hand, also hadn't seen a Chimaera, but it appeared he was busy entertaining his nieces and nephews. The only one he actually seemed to like so far was his newly born niece. According to him, she slept through everything.
Lastly was the Hogwarts letter, and it took both her and her grandmother by surprise when a silver badge fell from the envelope and clattered on her plate. It was smaller than her palm, with the letter P engraved on the front, superimposed on a Slytherin snake.
"What is that?" Her grandmother spoke first, putting down the paper. "An award?"
"No, it isn't." She grabbed the badge, turning it over in her hand. Fifth year meant new prefects were chosen and she had almost forgotten. But it was only logical Snape would pick her. Who else, really? "It is a prefect badge. In fifth year two students from every house have the chance to become prefect. It appears I was picked."
Her grandmother raised her eyebrow, readjusting the glasses on her face. "And what does this title entail?"
Ah, right, she couldn't help but correct herself. Beauxbatons didn't have prefects.
"I was picked as student leader." She placed the badge in front of her plate, feeling satisfied. "Helping students and Professors, watching over first years, patrolling hallways to make sure students don't break curfew. Things like that."
"A position with managerial responsibilities." Her grandmother seemed to think about it, before giving her a nod. "Congratulations, it sounds like a great opportunity."
It was. While it bleaked in the idea of becoming a rare Animagus, it did look good on a list of her achievements. Not to mention that there was not a single chance that one of those Weasley twins convinced McGonagall they made good prefects. She could give them all the detention she wanted.
"Thank you. It is."
It was the first cordial exchange they had in almost a year, and it couldn't have been more forced, but it was something.
"I will take the liberty of adjusting your schedule to the new development." Her grandmother stood up first. "I will assume this new position requires you to stay at school during the holiday again and we can't have you falling behind once more."
The look given to her was a reminder of the poorly made excuse from last Yule. She kept her face relaxed and smiling, but inside she grimaced. She wasn't even sure if there was room in her schedule for more. And she had just gotten back to sleeping in her bed. Such a pity.
"I understand." She replied, standing up too. "I will adjust myself accordingly."
"I expect you to, yes." Her grandmother walked out of the dining room first. "Don't forget Professor Williams agreed to an additional hour every Tuesday, starting today. After you are done, send him to me, I'll discuss adding another in light of this development."
"Yes, I w…" Her sentence was lost in the empty room, her grandmother's heels already making their way down the hall, halting and disappearing in what she knew was the parlour for tea.
The prefect badge felt cold in her hands and, without looking at it, she let the corners dig into her palm. It was an improvement, both becoming prefect and the actual conversation with her grandmother.
But, everything considering, they both were just another building block of her castle. Simply stepping stones.
The night was hot and clammy, the open windows in the library bringing in the smell of humidity, even though it wasn't raining outside. The sun had long gone down, the night full of bright stars, and the crickets in the grass were making themselves known. The candles in the library were all lit and she was the only one there, sitting in her usual seat, in front of her usual desk, which was again covered in papers and open books.
'Inheritance always has, and always will, rely on primogeniture, the right of the firstborn, legitimate child to inherit the main estate. This practice can be, and has been, disrupted by disinheritance, disownment, or the lack of children, which most families see as necessary to continue the chain of inheritance. In pureblood families agnatic primogeniture, as is enforced by Muggles, has always been prohibited, as is its less prominent counterpart; matrilineal primogeniture. In the case of the title of Marquess, pureblood wizarding families have always allowed their first born, either daughter or son, to inherit. In the case of Muggles, the practice of having your first born daughter inherit the title of Marquess is still prohibited to this day. Would the Muggle have no sons, the title would disappear.'
Flipping through her notes on law, she skimmed over most parts. Her classes on law were nearing their end and she couldn't be more satisfied. They were touching upon the reviews and, hopefully, she would finish the course soon.
At the end of the notebook, she sent it to one of the bookcases with a flick of her wand. The bookcase was filled to the brim with her old notes and assignments. She had two more assignments to finish tonight and it had started to look like sleep wasn't going to happen either way, so she had surrendered herself to the idea of staying awake and reviewing in the meantime.
Waving her wand to summon her last notebook about tax and tax laws, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Mistress Black?" Kreacher's voice was easily recognisable.
"Come in!" Calling out, she caught the notebook, flipping through it.
Kreacher came in, bowing, before jerking back up as straight as a plank. His posture lacked the ease with which he usually addressed her. A house-elf with Kreacher expertise, serving two generations, wasn't to be nervous about just anything.
She lowered her notebook slowly.
"Lady Matthieu asked for you, Mistress." Kreacher kept looking at the floor, not her eyes. "Two Aurors from the Ministry of Magic has come to escort you to London."
"What?!" She stood up instantly, her hand going to the holster on her arm. "Why?"
Biting her lip, her mind instantly went to the necklace, which was supposedly hidden away at Grimmauld Place. It was impossible for anyone to enter that house and, even if they did, they first had to present her with a warrant. Nothing they could have found was admissible and they couldn't hold her accountable.
"He says it is urgent, Mistress." Kreacher bowed again. "Lady asked for time to dress, he agreed."
"They gave us time to dress?" Mumbling to herself, she let her eyes flicker to the clock. Three in the morning, it had to be important if it couldn't wait until a more civilised hour. But it also meant she wasn't considered a flight risk.
They wouldn't act like this if it really was the necklace. And, logically, the Malfoy's had their eyes and ears everywhere, there was not a chance they wouldn't put a halt to it, or at least warn her. But if it wasn't the necklace, it had to be something else just as bad, which meant she was going to have to be prepared.
Straightening her back, she waved her wand at the desk, rearranging her papers and her books. "Kreacher, ready my clothes for me. Formal ones."
Kreacher was gone in less than a second.
Taking a deep breath, she went through the motions without rushing herself. She had to keep herself in check if they really were there for her. Perfect manners, perfect posture, perfect attire.
The entrance hall looked like it always had, but this time there were two additional people in it, no sight of her grandmother. Neither of them was dressed in official Auror clothes, one in a familiar murky brown coat and the other in training robes. She had hoped to never see either of them again, yet here they were.
Now, what could be important enough to send Auror Moody to her home? With Tonks, nonetheless?
"Good morning, Auror Moody." She nodded his way, coming to a halt at the bottom of the stairs and ignoring Tonks.
"Black." Moody growled, the fake blue eye twirling around in his socket and landing on her. "You're quick." He looked slightly suspicious of it.
"I was in the library." She raised her eyebrow. "And I was told it was urgent."
Placing emphasis on the last word, her grandmother arrived at the same time, dressed from top to bottom in periwinkle velvet. Before her grandmother turned to either of the Aurors, she examined her outfit, giving it a nod of approval, even though her clothes were a lot less exuberant than what her grandmother was wearing.
"Can you tell us now why we are getting disturbed this early in the morning?" Her grandmother turned her eyes to Moody and Tonks, halting on Moody. "I do not appreciate the hastiness, nor the secrecy."
"We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky." Moody said, turning his normal eye on her grandmother. "We have to go to the Ministry."
"Excuse me? Why would it be too high of a risk?" Her grandmother frowned in distaste at Moody's manners. "And our Floo network isn't connected to the English Ministery."
"It has been connected for tonight." She saw Moody's hand disappear in his coat and from it he removed a hand of Floo-powder. Did he just carry that around? What was wrong with using theirs?
"But…" Her grandmother blinked in surprise. "That is illegal."
"The situation is urgent." Moody swirled around, gesturing at the clean floor within the fireplace. "Tonks goes first and I'll go last."
"Yes, sir." Tonks' eyes were fully focused on the man, back straight and serious. Without even the slightest hint of a doubt, she strutted forward and accepted the hand of Floo-powder. Her grandmother and she looked on in confusion.
Tonks disappeared in a flash, the green of the flames almost blinding and the heat searing the marble floor. That wasn't normal Floo-powder.
"Black next." Moody gestured at the fireplace.
"Wait a minute." Her grandmother placed her hand on her arm. "You come into my house, in the middle of the night, offer us no explanation, mess with the security in my home, and now we will have to follow your commands?"
He pointed one gnarled finger towards the fireplace. "Yep, get on with it."
"We most certainly will not." Her grandmother sounded stupefied.
"It is a matter of national security." Moody grumbled, his fake eye flickering through the hall.
"Maybe we should owl your cousin." Her grandmother glanced at her, not removing her hand. "Her husband works at the Ministry, I'm…"
"Malfoy has already been called in." Moody interrupted, his voice low and gravelly, removing his wand out of his pocket. She immediately let hers fall into her hand, but Moody didn't look bothered. "Come on, girl. I need to Disillusion you."
"Excuse me?" Frowning at the man, she kept her eyes on his wand. If he thought she was going to let him put a spell on her willingly, he was out of his mind.
"Damn it." Moody looked impatient. "My job is to deliver you to the Minister and if you die in the attempt…"
"Die?" Her grandmother interrupted loudly, hand tightening on her arm.
Moody was unmoving, still standing with one hand on his cane and one hand with his wand. "Yes. Die."
The two elders just glared at each other, another minute passing in silence. She rolled her eyes at the stubbornness, but Moody's words had struck a chord. Why would there be a threat on her life? What did the Minister have to do with it? Why Moody? Why had Lucius been called in for this? Had more people been called in?
So many questions and there was only one place she was going to find the answers.
"I'll cooperate." She pulled herself out from her grandmother's hand, giving her a look. "Standing here won't get us answers."
"But," she turned to Moody. "I will go without the Disillusionment Charm."
"Fine, your choice." He stuffed his wand back in his pocket. "We have already lost enough time."
Grabbing a hand of their own Floo-powder, she threw it at the floor, seeing her grandmothers and Moody's face disappearing in the green flames. The heat travelled up her body until she was dropped on the dark stone floor of another fireplace.
"Finally." Tonks looked up at her, her wand disappearing in her sleeve. "That took long enough."
Ignoring the comment, she looked around.
The hall they were standing in was very long and tiled, with a dark wooden floor. On the blue ceiling there were golden runes that moved, a few torches were lit, but clearly not all, and to the side there were multiple fireplaces. She would have expected them to be empty and locked at three in the morning, but many were actually open. The green fire reflected brightly against the walls when someone rushed out of one of them and sprinted towards the big hall, never even looking back.
It became more abnormal when she realised the person was still wearing his pyjamas, sleeping hat and all.
"Come on, hurry." Growled Moody, prodding her in the back.
"This way." Moody was stomping his way to the other side of the hall, the sound of his wooden leg echoing between the walls. "Hurry up."
Two more people passed them in the meantime, both running and one with bright yellow curlers in her hair. They passed a fountain, decorated with large golden statues, and finally they made it to the elevators.
"Get in." Moody didn't waste any time, pressing the button of the elevator harshly.
"Level 1, Minister for Magic and Support Staff."
Exchanging a look with her grandmother, she flexed the muscles in her forearm, making sure her holster was still there. The normal procedure for a criminal case would entail them handing in their wands, so that removed that option from the list.
It ceased her worry, but did not shed any light on the situation.
In complete silence they exited the elevator and, in comparison to the hall downstairs, the hallway of the Minister was chaotic. Extremely so.
People were running from office to office, yelling and stacks of paper flying from one room to the next. One person even froze in the middle of the hall at the sight of Moody, staring with his mouth agape. He seemed to break out of his trance when a stack of papers hit him in the head.
A moment later the door of an office slammed closed behind him.
Making it all the way to the other side of the hallway, Moody knocked twice on the big doors with the end of his staff. From the inside they could hear a distant mumble in response. She wasn't sure what it said, but Moody opened the door with a jerk, gesturing at them to get in.
Stepping into the room after her grandmother, she was pleasantly surprised. The room was beautiful, consisting of dark tiles and gold finishes, forming a large circle and the windows letting in moonlight. Behind them she could see the streets of London, all dark and quiet.
"Good evening, Miss Black. Lady Matthieu." Minister Fudge was sitting behind his desk, nodding at both her and her grandmother, gesturing at the two chairs in front of him. "My apologies for the late night disturbance, I am very glad to see you are both in good health."
Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was a portly, little man, with rumpled grey hair. His robes were pinstriped, but she could see a lime green cloak and bowler hat hanging from the coat rack in the corner of the room. Sitting down in the chair on the right, she kept her back straight and her hands positioned correctly. She was only there for answers, which by now he was more than obliged to give.
"How are you, Miss Black? Tea?" Fudge motioned at the teapot and cups standing on the side of his desk, the steam floating out of the top. "I hope you are enjoying your summer holiday so far."
"No, thank you." She said, meeting his gaze. "And I had been, up until now."
Fudge winced slightly, predicating his unease.
"I'll get straight to the point, Minister." She didn't back down. "Why are we here?"
"Where is Monsieur Malfoy?" Her grandmother added in.
She glanced at her grandmother, but didn't refute her. She had a comfortable handle on the law, but one could never be too prepared, or too cautious.
"Of course, of course. Uhm, Mr. Malfoy is handling something in the Law Department at the moment, I will send for him if you want." Fudge gathered up his handkerchief and patted down his forehead. "Auror Moody?"
"Tonks." The grumble came quick after, Tonks' voice muttering softly as they heard the door open and close behind her.
And then there were four.
Fudge continued. "I have some very unfortunate news, but I would like you to know that the Ministry is doing everything in its power to rectify the situation."
He let out a nervous laugh, wringing the handkerchief tightly.
"Minister, what happened?" She wasn't there for empty words.
"Right." Fudge nodded decisively. "As of one o'clock this morning, Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban Prison and has remained undetectable for…"
It took her less than a second to process it and even less than that to jerk her body forward, lowering her composure and staring at the Minister in shock. "What?!"
"Maia." Her grandmother gave her a quick look, turning her attention back to the Minister, who was taking a shaky sip of his tea. "How did this happen?"
Leaning back in her chair, she clutched both the armrests, thoughts racing. This had to be some kind of sick joke. No one escaped from Azkaban, it didn't happen.
"Up until this moment it is uncertain how he managed to escape." Fudge smiled uncomfortably, the whole room silent. "I assure you we have every witch and wizard available on the case. In situations like this it is vital to cover all bases. We have to reassure other Ministries that certain criminals won't escape before they have the chance to stand on trial in their own countries. Not to mention the prisoners that are transferred to Azkaban because of its reputation, and to make sure this never happens again."
His handkerchief went up to wipe at his forehead. "I aim to resolve this situation quickly."
"Of course." Her grandmother crossed her legs. "But what does this mean in relation to us?"
"If you are concerned we are hiding him you can rest peacefully, Minister." Taking a deep breath, she resumed her position. "I have no intention to cover for him."
"Well…" He swallowed before he answered. "That's not it. We are of the opinion that Black has escaped, well, to…"
His eyes flickered from her grandmother to her, nervously. Tilting her head, she went over the possibilities in her mind. What did Sirius's escape have to do with her, other than their shared blood?
The room stayed silent, all eyes fully focused on Fudge.
"We are of the opinion that Black broke out to put his claim on the Black estate." He said this very fast. "Now he still can."
Something feeling like an electrical current made its way through her body. The room temperature dropped instantly and, as if summoned, raindrops began to clatter violently against the glass windows.
It felt like she had stopped breathing and shivers were making their way down her arms. What?
"What?" Her voice sounded strange to her own ears.
"Miss Black, you are still fifteen…"
"Almost sixteen." She corrected automatically.
"Almost sixteen," Fudge gave her a slight smile. "The inheritance will be signed over when you turn seventeen, but, up until that point, Sirius Black still stands to inherit after you."
"No, he can't." She spoke before he could continue, another chill making it up her spine. "Aunt Walburga's will mentions my name, not his. I am next to decide…"
Fudge interrupted her, coughing. "Ahem, well, that is all true, but you can't have a will yet."
Realisation hit her like a bolt of lighting. She had gone over this just this morning and it had been stuffed in the back of her mind, because it seemed so useless at the time.
Falling back in her chair, she looked at the Minister feeling numb.
"The Rules of Intestacy."
"Ah, yes, correct." Fudge gave her a nod, his hand inching towards his teacup.
The room stayed silent, her shock making the second feel like a minute.
"Maia, explain." Her grandmother urged her with her eyes.
"It's Wizarding Inheritance Law. I can't include the Black inheritance in my will, because I am underage and can't lay claim on it yet." She turned to her grandmother. "Which means legally, I can't pick my own heir."
"But hasn't Sirius Black been disowned? There is no way he could inherit something of a family he is no longer a part of!" Her grandmother's voice got louder and behind them she could hear Moody put a Silencing Charm on the door.
"Disownment and disinheritance is usually a familial affair." Fudge said, giving her grandmother a glance. "But in this case, would Miss Black come to pass before becoming an adult, the will of Walburga Black would be unable to be executed and the Black estate will be left without management. This will transfer it automatically in the hands of the Ministry, who will have to appoint the closest to the main bloodline, according to The Rules of Intestacy. And the fact is, at this moment, that is still Sirius Black."
"Excuse me?" Her grandmother seemed confused, Fudge silently nodding behind his desk.
"If I die before I can appoint my own successor the estate will lawfully fall back to the person closest to the original line of inheritance." She summarised for her grandmother, feeling a headache coming up. "That person is Sirius."
"Indeed." Fudge shuffled around with a few papers on his desk, handing her a few of them. "Here you go."
She tuned out his voice, reading the papers in front of her. Sirius Black, born on November 3rd, St. Mungo's Hospital. Trial papers.
This couldn't be happening.
"He broke out of Azkaban," her grandmother was pasty white, "to kill you?"
"What about Potter?" Refocusing on the conversation at hand, she had a front row view of Fudge's shocked face.
"What about who?" Fudge laughed nervously, his eyes flickering Moody in the back. "What do you mean?"
"You know as well as I that these kinds of things get around, Minister." She wasn't playing anymore and her grandmother seemed otherwise occupied, seemingly in shock. "Sirius is the reason Potter's parents are dead. Surely, you must have gone over the possibility that he has broken out of Azkaban to finish the job."
"Ah, yes, yes, we have." Fudge hung his head slightly. "Yet, in this case, we can't be sure. Black is psychotic and, no doubt, while driven by the idea of finishing what he started with the Potters, in your case there is the aspect of time."
"He has to kill me in a year." She summarised, drawing a hurried breath from her grandmother. "He has all the time for Potter."
"Yes, indeed." Fudge took another quick sip of his tea. "But his actions are chaotic and random, we have no way of knowing if he has a clear plan, or if he will attack either of you given the chance."
"And the public doesn't know about Blacks relation to Potter. Minister Bagnold made sure to keep that out of the media." The puzzle pieces were falling together.
"Yes." Fudge agreed, looking surprised. "She did."
Cursing the situation in her head, it started to look even worse. "And everyone does know I'm next in line to inherit."
One more year, just one, and she wouldn't have had to deal with this. Fuck.
"You have quite the intuition for this, Miss Black." Fudge looked impressed, which really didn't do much for her at the moment. "And it does come down to that. I have asked the Prophet to handle the situation gently, but it is the conclusion most will be drawn to. It will garner a lot of attention."
Fudge placed his hands over each other. "I want to offer you protection for the time being. Officials can place wards around your home and accompany you to the station for your next semester. We are already looking into further options for protection during the school year…"
"That will not be necessary." Her grandmother interrupted him loudly, sitting up straight. "The wards will be reinforced by a private company and we will use the Floo to get to Kings Cross, as always. The cost is not an issue."
Fudge looked surprised. "I reassure you, the Ministry has excellent people for the job."
"The same people that were supposed to keep a mass murderer in prison?" Her grandmother cut back viciously and from behind them she heard a snort.
Fudge turned pink in the face. "We are already going over precautions we can take to guard Hogwarts. I can assure you the castle will be completely safe…"
"Maybe you should go to Beauxbatons." Her grandmother turned to her. "I can still get you in and with your personal classes adjusting would be easy. You would be in France and…"
Smiling slightly, she placed one hand on her grandmother's, making her stop her sentence.
"I'm sure it would be easier to protect me if Potter and I attended the same school. Not to mention easier to catch Sirius." She glanced at Fudge, who nodded hurriedly in agreement. "I am sure Hogwarts is adequately protected and Hogsmeade is just around the corner…"
"Ahem," Fudge coughed, making her halt. "I would actually advise you to avoid Hogsmeade for the year, Miss Black. Hogwarts will be protected, not only by the Ministry, but also by the Professors and the Headmaster, but we aren't equipped to cover another large and busy, not to mention public, area."
"Of course." Her grandmother looked back to Fudge. "Under no circumstances am I going to sign that slip."
"Grandmother." Stunned, she let her eyes flicker between them. "I can take care of myself. Hogsmeade is only a few times a year and I need…"
"No, you don't." Her grandmother sent a glare her way. "I am your guardian and I expect you to do as I say. This is no casual matter."
Biting on her tongue, she halted her protest. They could continue this in private, now was not the time.
"You can keep yourself busy with your prefect business." Her grandmother waved her off.
"Oh, Miss Black, you received the prefect badge?" Fudge was smiling again, looking relieved he had her grandmother on his side. "Congratulations, quite the feat."
"Congratulations, indeed."
Immersed in their conversation, they hadn't heard the knock on the door, or its opening, the voice of Lucius coming from the other side of the room.
Turning around she was met with the sight of her cousin's husband, Tonks scowling behind him.
"Quite the trainee you sent, Fudge." Lucius smiled coldly. "She managed to tip over two piles of important documents, sending us back hours. Is the Ministry that desperate for Aurors?"
A soft grumble was heard on the other side of the room.
"Lucius, so glad you could come on such short notice." Fudge hand inched towards the wand on the right side of his desk. "I can summon you a chair, that would probably…"
"No need." Lucius glanced down at her, one hand resting on the backrest of her chair, and she raised her head. "I assume everyone has been informed of the situation."
A small nod his way had his eyes flicker to her grandmother, who responded vocally.
"Yes, I think we have heard everything. The Minister was just informing us about his plan for Mr. Potter."
"Ah, Mr. Potter." The hand on her backrest tightened around the fabric. "Yes, it would be a shame if Black got a hold of him."
Pushing down a smirk, it seemed like she was the only one in the room that understood the sarcasm behind that sentence.
"I am trying to keep Mr. Potter out of it as much as I can." Fudge swallowed nervously. "A thirteen year old shouldn't be expected to look out for himself if not necessary, he is only a child. The Ministry will take care of him."
"And it will do so to the best of its capabilities." Lucius nodded gravely.
Lightning lit up in the sky behind the Minister momentarily, illuminating his silhouette. Thunder followed not long after and the windows shook slightly. The weather seemed to have taken a turn for the worst, as if it was aware of what was being discussed between them.
Her grandmother placed her hands on the armrests. "Anything else, Minister? If not, I would like to get back home and start the necessary adjustments."
"No, that was all." Fudge stood up, bowing formally, first towards her and then to her grandmother. "My sincere apologies, I wish I didn't have to give you this news. Auror Moody and his trainee will escort you back home and, if you permit, stay until your adjustments are completed. I trust them with my life."
Frowning, she took a quick glance backwards, past Lucius, towards the two people she had tried to ignore. Moody didn't show anything in his face, but Tonks looked just as disgruntled as she felt. She didn't want them in her home, even if Sirius turned up in the next hour with murderous intent.
"That would be appreciated." Her grandmother nodded back, making her way to the door. "Come on, Maia."
Glancing back at Lucius, she watched him say his goodbyes before following her out of the office.
"Are you coming along?" The question left her mouth before she noticed it.
"No, I have work to finish here." Lucius looked at her. "I will inform Draco of the development later today. It won't be wise for you to join us to Diagon Alley for your shopping."
"I agree. I will have to place my orders from home." She sighed. What a complete mess.
"Narcissa and I appreciate the work you have done with Draco, even though that girl is still in first place." Lucius looked like the idea alone gave him nausea. "We have made sure that he receives proper education this summer."
They arrived at the elevator, her grandmother already waiting.
"That is wise." She nodded along. "Three electives is admirable."
"It is acceptable." Lucius sniffed disdainfully. "In return, he is permitted to keep his position on the Quidditch team."
"The team will be better for it." She raised her head at the sceptic look he gave her, but didn't take back her words.
"Ah, yes. If you say so." He turned to the hallway, where Moody and Tonks just closed the door of the Minister behind them and came hurrying their way, Tonks tripping over a fold in the carpet. "I don't have to tell you that were you to find yourself in a compromising position, you are to do everything in your power to protect yourself."
He gave her a glance. "We can make anything go away if necessary."
"Long enough for me to name Draco my temporary heir." She smirked, the intention clearly meant as a tease instead of an accusation. It was only logical for her to name her only real cousin with Black blood her heir until her child took the title. He was the closest she had to a sibling.
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Lucius straightened his back and readjusted his grip on his walking stick. "There are too few worthy wizarding families left."
"Malfoy." Moody spoke first when he and Tonks finally arrived at the elevators, Tonks turning pink in the face at her judging glance, glaring back. "You coming along?"
"No, I'm not." The elevator next to theirs opened, Lucius placing his walking stick in between the doors. "I do hope you will follow the right regulations, Alastor. I can only imagine what an awful loss you would be for the Ministry should this go wrong."
"You would think so, won't you?" Moody growled, eye rolling around in his head. "I'm not as trusting as Fudge, Malfoy. Birds of a feather flock together, d'you know what I mean?"
"How dare…" Lucius sneered down at Moody, but Moody removed his wand from his pocket.
"Careful with your next words, Malfoy."
Lucius stayed quiet for a moment, still sneering down at Moody, before he turned and got into his elevator, disappearing from their view.
"Hurry, girl." Moody pushed her inside of their elevator, her grandmother and Tonks already there. The doors closed behind Moody, who still had his wand out and his face turned to the door as if he was expecting Sirius to stand outside when they opened.
Her grandmother broke the silence.
"When we get back I will send for my contact. Before dawn arrives the newest wards will be placed and no one will be able to get through, not even a simple squirrel."
The elevator doors opened, Moody the first to step through, the fake eye spinning wildly. "Are you sure you can trust this person?"
"Yes." Her grandmother frowned at the Auror. "I was practically raised with his parents and he…"
"Doesn't matter." Moody led them through the same hall as they had come from, but now it was a lot busier. People jumped out of his way, but their eyes were quick to rest on her walking behind him. Ignoring the stares, she sped up, clenching her teeth when she saw a man point at her, whispering something to his colleague. "Sirius Black is convicted of thirteen murders, he won't be above torture. Confident about that, are you?"
Her grandmother was silent for a moment. "I'll tell him to get out of the country for a while. A paid for vacation should do it."
Moody nodded, stopping in front of the fireplaces. "I will tell you the nest is clear if no one has been detected inside. You hear anything else, you floo back to the Ministry immediately. Got it?"
"What about her?" Halting in front of the fireplaces, her grandmother gestured at Tonks. "Isn't she a liability?"
Before Moody could answer, Tonks moved. Short, pink hair changed colour and grew until it reached between her shoulder blades, her body seemed to elongate, the features in her face changed, and, as if that wasn't enough, so did the clothes she was wearing.
In less than half a minute there was an exact copy of herself standing in front of her. Facial expression, posture, even the slightest messy look of her hair. Tonks had clearly put a lot of effort into mastering her ability, body language included. It was incredibly disturbing.
"I can distract him if necessary." It even was her voice coming out of her mouth. Words wouldn't be able to quantify how much that made her hate it more.
"You're a Metamorphmagus." Her grandmother sounded appreciative.
"She is skilled." Moody grumbled, grabbing another hand of Floo-powder out of his pocket. "Tonks will go in first, disguised, and we will follow. You stay by the fireplace and send out your house-elf for the wards. Wands out. Hex anything that moves."
When the flames retracted from her vision, upon first glance, the hallway seemed empty, looking exactly like they had left it. Moody gestured at Tonks, the real eye focused on the hallway and the fake one pointed upwards.
"Tonks, lower level."
Tonks darted to the left, wand out in front of her, and her grandmother and she were left in the entrance hall, Moody's leg echoing through the hall as he limped up the stairs. Listening for anything that stood out to them, it remained silent. Her grandmother summoned Beady in the meantime, whispering a message to the house-elf and sending him away to whoever she meant to reinforce their wards.
Staring at the windows next to the entrance door, she saw rain clattering against it, startled when, just like in London, thunder reached her ears. Her wand remained tightly in her hand, but something told her the house was still safe.
Her own face darted from room to room, slowly coming out of the parlour. "Nothing here."
"The nest is clear." Moody's voice shouted out above them, his leg being dragged down the marble stairs again.
Her grandmother let out a relieved breath and Beady reappeared in the entrance hall.
"He will be here in half an hour, Mistress."
"Good. Thank you, Beady." Her grandmother turned to Moody. "My contact will be here soon to enforce the wards."
"We will stay until then. I want a word with him." Moody grumbled her grandmother's way. "Tonks, you can change back."
She wouldn't lie and say it wasn't a relief to not see a duplicate of herself looking back at her, even if the pink hair was replaced before anything else. Under no circumstances was she to ever dye her hair pink. Tonks clearly did it on purpose.
"Beady, coffee for our guests." Her grandmother gestured at the already open doors of the parlour. "A few pastries too."
Moody was the first to walk through the doors, her grandmother not far behind. "I'll have tea, got my own spoon."
It left Tonks and her standing awkwardly in the hallway, Moody's voice trailing off in the other room.
Making up her mind, she walked towards the stairs. The day had already gone on for long enough and she might as well return back to her place in the library. The time she did have left should be spent researching adequate ways to protect herself. Maybe she could get an actual teacher for martial magic. Durmstrang was most promising in that aspect, maybe she could find someone from there.
Deep in thought, she almost didn't hear Tonks behind her.
"Where are you going?"
Stopping before the first step, she turned her head, observing Tonks in her training robes. She didn't have the energy for this. "I will be in the library, resuming the work I was doing before I was interrupted."
"You just heard your cousin is trying to kill you and you want to study?" Tonks looked surprised. "Blimey, you can't be serious?"
"If your superior did his job well enough Sirius won't be waiting upstairs for me." She shrugged, taking the first few steps up the stairs. "There is no excuse not to."
"Wha…" Tonks stuttered behind her, calling up the stairs. "What about breakfast?"
Rolling her eyes, she turned around and leaned against the railing. "Concerned Tonks? And here I thought our last exchange ended rather… dishearteningly."
Tonks glared at her. "I can overlook a simple argument. This is my job and you are the objective. It is called professionalism."
"Yes?" Drawing out her words, she couldn't help but poke at this so-called professionalism. "No resentment?"
"For that? I have gotten in bigger fights with Snape…"
She interrupted Tonks smoothly, observing her standing in the entrance hall. "No, not quite. I mean that while Sirius Black killed twelve Muggles and one wizard, sentenced in Azkaban for the rest of his life, he is the cousin that can still get it all back."
Tonks eyes flickered up to her, her jaw clenching visibly.
She continued. "That doesn't invoke any ill will at all?"
It stayed silent, Tonks taking a deep breath. "No, I don't feel anything towards that. Nothing."
"Mmm." Humming, she shrugged again. "I see."
Resuming her walk up the stairs, Tonks still called out behind her, now another set of steps joined hers. "I still can't leave you alone."
She resisted the urge to groan. "You can sit outside and guard the door, if that brings you much purpose in life."
The hallway was as empty as ever and she nodded to the paintings, most who seemed to wake slowly and watch curiously as Tonks stumbled behind her, trying to keep up with her steps and at the same time trying to observe everything around her.
Opening the doors of the library, she heard Tonks whisper behind her.
"Wow."
Raising her hand, she stopped the girl from entering the room. "You can wait outside."
"What? Why?" Tonks looked offended.
Smirking, she leaned downward. "You should know that personal libraries are very guarded. Other than family members, and those specially invited, no one is allowed to enter, and I will not have you tripping over books worth more than… well…"
She looked Tonks up and down. "More than you."
That seemed to do the trick as Tonks hair turned the familiar red, but she still restrained herself, glaring, but not saying anything back. Maia was almost tempted to see how far she could go. It was a combination of distracting herself from the situation and the pleasure of getting the rise out of someone.
Tonks breathed in and out loudly, a fake smile appearing on her face. "I understand, I will be here if you need me. If you are attacked, scream and do try not to get murdered before I can intervene. The doors might slow me down."
Opening the door, she was slightly impressed by Tonks' restraint. It didn't stop her from slamming the doors closed behind her and waiting for a second, long enough to hear Tonks cursing her in the hallway.
"Kreacher." Focusing back on the problem in front of her, she called her house-elf.
"Mistress."
"Bring me breakfast." She halted for a moment, a glance at the doors. "And some for my guard dog."
"Yes, Mistress." Kreacher disappeared in a poof and she dropped herself in her seat.
In the silent room, just by herself, she had no choice but to face the situation; Sirius had escaped and was coming after her. First in history to escape Azkaban. Previously locked in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by spells and dementors. Who could do that?
And what did it mean for her? Would he really desire the fortune of their family? Would he want revenge? Would she be able to stop him? He still had six years of magical training on her, discarding the years in Azkaban, but she was the one actually determined to do a good job as heir. She had seen his grades and heard about his motivation, it was not better than hers.
But he did escape from Azkaban. A feat even more skilled wizards hadn't accomplished.
Placing her head in her hands, Kreacher placed the tray of food next to her on the table.
"Kreacher."
"Mistress?" Kreacher bowed, looking up at her curiously.
"Sirius has escaped." She ignored the surprised sound coming from the house-elf, overlooking the slip. "He is after the title."
"Impos… Impossible, Mistress." Kreacher grabbed at his pillowcase, wringing it between his hands. "How? Mistress, the traitor…"
"They don't know." Her eyes lingered on the windows, behind which the rain had seemed to come to an end, the sun rising. "I need you and Beady to be alert. I won't be able to leave the home for the foreseeable future, at least until I return to Hogwarts. You will need to be in contact with my tailors and place the order for my booklist."
"Of course, of course, Kreacher will." Kreacher bowed again, shaking slightly. "If the blood-traitor dares to take step in the house, Kreacher will kill him, Mistress. Kreacher will."
"I don't doubt you, Kreacher." She glanced at him. "You are a loyal house-elf."
"Yes, yes, Kreacher is loyal." Kreacher nodded frequently.
"I have to make use of it." She mumbled to herself, Kreacher still nodding next to her. "More time towards martial magic and I can focus on my own proje…"
Her head jerked up, her eyes focusing on the light streaming through the coloured windows, still glistening from the rain. "..cts."
"No. No, no, no."
Jumping up from the stair, she ran towards the doors, placing her hand on the handle, halting when she realised Tonks was still outside.
"Fuck!" Hissing to herself, she looked around the room in a hurry. "Kreacher!"
"Mistress?" Kreacher looked up at her, confused.
"Grab the mahogany box in my closet!" Hissing, she took a few big steps back into the room. "Now!"
Kreacher disappeared without a sound and she waved her wand at the door, placing her own Silencing Charm on it.
This couldn't be happening. No, no, no. Not after all her effort. Not now.
"Mistress." Kreacher appeared back in the room, presenting her with the familiar wooden jewellery box. But it held something way more precious than simple jewellery.
"Confringo." Slashing her wand at the box, Kreacher dropped it just in time. The box exploded in the air, wood snippers flying around.
Not bothering with the house-elf, she summoned the phial, catching it without issue.
"No…"
The potion was dark black, not the blood-red it was supposed to be, or the murky green it was before. She had waited too long, she had missed the electrical storm and now it was ruined.
All that effort, all the perfect moments, thrown away in a few hours.
"Fuck!" Throwing the phial at the wall, she watched it bounce off, protected by the countless spells she put on it.
Slashing her wand in the air again, she watched it explode dispassionately. The potion created a black spot on the carpet, glass shards scattered around it and a few pieces embedded in the wall.
"Clean it."
Not bothering to give Kreacher more explanation, she turned her back to the fiasco, kicking her chair for good measure.
Nine months of preparation and now she was back at the start. Double fuck.
'Black still at large! Desperate for birthright?'
"Put that away, chérie. It isn't going to help." Her grandmother said, giving her a look over her own newspaper.
The Prophete du Monde was empty of English news, the front page occupied with a picture of a mid-summer festival. In comparison, the English Prophet, both Daily and Evening, had been printing the same thing for weeks now; a giant picture of her cousin, a sunken-faced man with long, matted black hair. The picture was black and white, but she could see the same shade and shape of eyes she possessed blinking back at her.
If the eyes hadn't moved, she would have been convinced he was dead when the picture was taken.
"It's been weeks, I would have assumed he would have been caught by now." Placing the newspaper to the side, she grabbed her teacup with a tight grasp. "I am to return to Hogwarts in a few days."
"The Minister is keeping a very open line of communication." Her grandmother gestured at the letter she had read before even touching the paper. "He sends an update every day."
"And they always say the same." She glared at the parchment. "'Nothing found', 'everyone is working hard', and 'stay put'."
"He doesn't use those exact words." Her grandmother placed her own paper to the side. "And it is irrefutable that it does come down to that. Nonetheless, he informed us about the dementors that will be stationed around your school."
"If he hadn't we would have heard it from Lucius anyway." Sighing, she looked out of the window at the evening sun and the golden light shining upon the grass.
Draco had finished his shopping weeks ago. In the meantime, Kreacher had taken her measurements and had sent them to the shops, returning with boxes of clothes. Her grandmother had tried to make it more appealing by adding a few new outfits and accessories, but the lack of interaction took away all the fun.
"The Minister is remaining in contact as much as possible because it is useful to him." She concluded, finishing her tea. "He doesn't want our fortune to fall in the hands of a maniac either."
"Power in the hands of someone in Azkaban doesn't sound very useful, no." Her grandmother waved her wand and an apple was cut and placed on her plate. "You should eat more, chérie."
She sighed, her fork sinking in the fruit. "With me dead, Sirius would inherit immediately, no wait time necessary. In that position he could reopen his case before they managed to get him back into Azkaban, and if he is as competent as they say…"
The last few weeks had given her plenty of time to think of the different ways Sirius could turn the situation in his favour. There were too many, leaving her on edge. Clearly, it did the same for Fudge.
"I saw his documents." She said, placing down her fork. "They didn't try to interrogate him. He never even had a trial. The only Muggles to witness the event are either dead or had their memories erased. With a few lies and enough money he could enforce an appeal, and with a bit more he would be found innocent."
She gestured at the newspaper. "The front page would be printing a picture of the Minister shaking his hand. Fudge knows that and he wants to make sure that isn't going to happen. Being on my good side and having me inherit is in his best interest."
Shrugging, she picked up another piece of apple. "It just so happens to also be in mine."
"Well, that is one way to look at it." Her grandmother grimaced slightly, looking at the parlour clock. "It is almost eight, Madam Vladislav will be here soon."
Looking at the clock, she stood quickly when she realised her grandmother was right. In the eyes of the strict, Romanian woman being right on time meant being too late. She quickly came to realise that at their first meeting, after she got healed for a mild concussion.
But Madam Vladislav was supposed to be the best, and their Healer got paid per visit.
"I have to prepare." Waving her wand at the violin placed on the table in front of her, it was quick to retake its place in the case.
"Send her to me after you're done." Her grandmother stayed seated, watching her. "I want to go over your progress again."
"I always do." She stopped in the door opening, turning her head towards her grandmother. "I wanted to say… uhm… I appreciate our talks."
'In comparison to what we had last year' went unspoken. Over the last few weeks, the situation had actually removed the forced air surrounding their conversations.
"So do I, chérie." Her grandmother smiled.
Making her way up the stairs, she let out a deep sigh. While she was glad for the reconciliation with her grandmother, in the face of her losses she would be lying if she said she wouldn't rather have it all reversed. To have her potion succeed and Sirius still in Azkaban, even if that meant her grandmother was distant.
It took her a few months backwards, but it felt like a lifetime.