Chapter Thirteen
The Blooming of Life Lessons: part 2
The creation of a Pureblood did not necessitate survival in the cut throat society of which they had unfortunately found themselves. The hierarchical structure present in that world ensured that the climb to the top was filled with as many obstacles as possible. Though a Pureblood was considered infinitely superior to any Mudblood or Half-Blood, poverty persisted among the lowest Pureblood ranks. If blood purity determines one's societal worth, then it's important to note that the climb towards the top of that societal ladder could only be achieved by marrying into the older lines. Not even becoming financially successful could elevate one's social status. However, every now and then one lower level Pureblood became lucky enough to marry into the Elite whom were renowned for only marrying within their own circle. The Elite, The Ten, would always be the ten oldest Families in existence and hence always hold the true power.
A First generation could never hope to be one of these lucky people. Even though they were certainly considered part of society, the First generation were still only one foot out of the Farms. Thus, they were the lowest of the lowest strata in the Pureblood hierarchy. That any would even exist among the Elites themselves was unthinkable.
The descendants of Jade Evans and Iolite Evans experienced many hardships that would force the line to change their last name twice in the many hundreds of years that followed the creation of their first Pureblood. Yet as hard as they had fought for the spot among the Ten, the direct descendants emerging from Julienne Evans strongest female offsprings would eventually find themselves down to only one female heiress.
The line was in the most precarious position of going extinct.
In desperation, the now old Pureblood line looked to the Malfoys' French branch, the Malfoi Farm, which had managed to survive most of the invasions and muggle wars that plagued France in the 19th and 20th centuries. St-Guilhem-le-Désert in France, now called Stone Farms in honour of Lady Amélie's eldest son, was the only other descendant line that had survived all the wars, plagues and terrible conditions which were thrust upon them. Due to the Magical and physical weaknesses that kept emerging within many descendents, the line had been watered down terribly by regular Mudblood injections in an attempt to re-introduce health, power and fertility.
On July 30th 1980 a male, the first to achieve Pureblood, was born.
In 1982 the second followed.
Silvia Stone, though the blood was by now watered down by all the mixing of other lines, was the second to last of Rider's descendants emerging directly from his branch on that Malfoi (now Stone) Farm. The baby was middle range in power and displayed an agreeable and sunny disposition. More importantly, she shared a strong enough resemblance with the family to not prompt any questions.
Denied the boy they originally went searching for, the family half-heartedly settled on having an heiress and female spare instead. An adjustment to the second daughter's betrothal contract stated that her second son must take the family name, an acceptable request of a second daughter to make, and the family breathed a sigh of relief that their line would continue. No one would ever have to know. Except...
...Astoria Greengrass, the former Silvia Stone, had decided to make a very illegal blood potion she found in a book in the family library. She had been curious why such a simple potion, which only claims to fame had that it showed one's true family tree in extreme detail, had been banned by The Ten.
Present Day
Lucius Malfoy, the right hand of the Dark Lord Voldemort, was known to his peers as a cruel, petty and heartless man. His wife, Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, was that cold, delicate, ice-like beauty that represented the pinnacle of properly bred high Pureblood society women. Theirs was a match quickly thrown together to cover the complete betrayal by Lucius's original betrothed, the eldest Black sister Andromeda, whom had unfortunately developed a case of moral depravity. She had consorted and then eloped with a filthy Mudblood. Madness, sadly, ran in that family's line.
Perhaps the blood purity necessary to perform true Magic came with the price of madness for the most devoted. For you see, Lucius had done a terrible thing.
Lucius has a son. He ruled the Slytherin house, followed his lead for everything and was determined to become a man to be feared one day. A man like his father. And even though his son was lazier and far more entitled than Lucius would have wished, he was still proud of him.
Lucius has a son. He was never seen. He was smart and obedient. Far cleverer than he let on. Far more powerful than Lucius let on. His son could never follow in his father's footsteps. He could never rise to power like him. He wasn't allowed to. The purpose of his existence was whatever his blood superiors wanted it to be.
Lucius loved his son. He also loved his other son even though he wasn't supposed to think of him as such or to even care. He was the type of man that when he loves he loves deeply. He made sure he provided the best he could within the societal constraints of their world for both boys. So Draco got the highest quality beginners potions set and Silverus a worn out alphabet book. Draco got broom lessons and Silverus was taught arithmetic. Draco loves horses and by now had enough to make his own herd. Silverus was given an old, half-Russian blue cat for his eleventh birthday which he frequently hid from all but his sire in fear that it would be taken away. He wasn't allowed pets. Draco was sent to Hogwarts with enough fanfare as befitting his status as a Pureblood heir. Silverus had his core quietly unsealed and was taught basic magic by an elderly half blind tutor sworn to secrecy. No one can ever learn that he knew magic. No one. The punishment for that was death for one such as he. The punishment for the unsealing of the core of a Farm-bred Half-Blood is perhaps even worse. Lucius had stressed this to his then eleven year old son whom had clutched the wand he wasn't allowed to have and looked up at him with such gratitude and hero worship that it actually made the hardened Deatheater feel uncomfortable.
Silverus went on to figure out much of the mechanics of wizardry on his own. He was a powerhouse with magic that was instinctive, potent and unusually defensive. An echo of his Fey mother's. A small, unnoticeable tattoo that resembled nothing more than a freckle keyed the boy to Lucius so that his power could not be felt by others and so Silverus did not use magic without his presence and permission.
When he was 14, Silverus hesitantly and disbelievingly took his first step off the Farms. He cried great heaping breaths that were both painful and voiceless. He was sent to the trade school for low-powered Half-Bloods that were useless for breeding lest they pass on their weak genes onto their offsprings. At 15, Silverus went into service as Lucius cashed in on a favour from the owner of the La Falcon, a small restaurant that catered only to the elite. There, Silverus would be overlooked and would be safe in this invisibility.
It is important at this point to understand that Lucius Malfoy secretly despised Grindelwald. Utterly loathed the man from the time Lucius himself had been a lad in breeches. He had been among the few Pureblood heirs that had accompanied their fathers to speak to, seek wisdom from and give information to the 'former' conqueror within the infamous prison. Even as a child Lucius had picked up on just how dangerous this man was even without his strange abilities. Even as a child Lucius knew true evil when he saw it.
He expected the second meeting between Gellert Grindelwald and Voldemort to be uneventful, that is until Lucius laid eyes on Grindelwald's new 'pet', chained and collared like a dog as he knelt bruised and naked next to the former conqueror's chair. For a moment the man known as Voldemort's right hand froze, static the only thing audible of the greetings being exchanged between the Dark Lords. It took the full experience of every single year of mastering the mask necessary for survival in their merciless world for Lucius not to react. To not sign his death warrant by attacking the vulture encased in human skin that was watching his reaction with cold eyes and a thin, cruel hint of a smile. To not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had presented Lucius with his ultimate downfall.
Gellert Grindelwald wasn't supposed to have noticed Silverus.
He shut down the immediate impulse to allow the boy access to his powers. To allow him to defend himself against this violation upon his person...if Lucius did this neither of them would leave the room alive. He was under no illusion about the power levels of the two Dark Lords or Voldemort's intelligence. Both their survivals depended upon Lucius's ability to behave like the uncaring Pureblood lord society dictated he should be. The Malfoy Head looked away from the scene and coolly sat next to his Lord to discuss business. Grindelwald, a pleasant smile upon his face, sat down in his chair opposite his guests and casually slipped his hand into his 'pet's' hair…and it was at that exact moment that Lucius's despising evolved into outright hatred. The man would regret making an enemy out of a Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy threw the expensive quill bought only last week across the room in frustration. The books, actual muggle bundled books filled with cheap paper and stinking with the use of their inferior ink, laid scattered across the floor of the room. He nearly screamed in frustration and at the humiliation of having to do this.
He did not want to study to pass some stupid test to go to a disgusting mudblood school. He didn't care that Potter had lost his mind and self respect and went there; he was Draconius Lucius Malfoy of the Ancient House of Malfoy. Potter was just some Half-Blood with ideas above his station. Draco however, was a Pureblood with a pedigree almost unmatched. Going to this abomination of a school went against everything he and his ancestors stood for. And yet…the Dark Lord had commanded the children of his inner circle to get into this school and figure out it's security weaknesses so he can get at not only Potter but the other Mudbloods there. It had been awhile since Magical Britain's Farms had received an influx of quality Mudblood stock and the insignificant amount actually making it to Pureblood status were noticeably lower than in recent years. Based on this school's requirements, even Draco had to admit that it possibly represented a gold mine of quality breeding stock. Draco understood the Dark Lord's command but that didn't mean he had to like it.
Sighing, the Malfoy heir walked over and picked up the quill from the floor. Then, with great distaste, he also picked up the muggle book that had triggered his angry reaction to begin with. Chemistry and Potions read the title on the cover. Draco had to admit that most of the information within the textbook was fascinating, which was why he had suddenly gotten so angry. Imagine allowing Muggles to discover a field that complemented Potions so well and then educating Mudbloods in it instead of Purebloods who could have truly advanced it beyond the low level it was at now. Life truly was unfair.
Situated in a corner of the Clan's library, Petunia sat back after reading the history of Lady Ginevra Bastien and her infamous acid blood attack. Taking several file sheets from the packet on her desk, she began writing furiously. Her mind worked in ways most would not understand and made connections most would find confusing and when she was done brainstorming the papers looked filled with scribbles only she could possibly comprehend.
It could work.
What if the blood protection Lily had started working on could be tweaked into a weapon? Her sister had already made it into a force only Petunia could use. She had already hinted at its potential to become more than a defense. What if Petunia pushed Lily's little project even further than she thought was possible? Petunia hesitated for a moment as she considered the stress this could actually put on her body before dismissing the concern. She would simply have to work on a way to minimize it.
As the cameras unknowingly spied on the woman working with the fervor and brilliance that characterized the Evans line, Nikita became aware of increasing bitterness. She had finally found a successor. Petunia Dursley nee Evans was everything Nikita had been looking for. She was clever, no nonsense, and dedicated to those that had earned her loyalty. She worked well under pressure and didn't react to a little blood. She was cold and ruthless in that she did what needed to be done despite the circumstances making it distasteful. She was exactly what the Clan needed. And yet…her ability was simply too erratic. It did not come out except in high amounts of stress which prevented the woman from maintaining a certain amount of personally charged protection around herself or fighting with it. If she turned over the Clan to her, Petunia would need actual bodyguards that were trained more intensely than most. It was not a good look for the head of an assassin family and would not gather her the respect of the other members.
It was a real pity.