Avior watches his first quidditch match, the Christmas holidays start and he attends a ball.
Early November 1943
" And Burke dives for the quaffle, racing around the flustered Gryffindor Chasers who fumbled it. And what a catch he's made, skimming close to the floor but pulling up at the last moment. He passes it to Avery, who's now speeding to the hoops! He shoots! He scores! 100:70 to Slytherin!" The commentator shouted, causing the Slytherin stands to roar in approval, watching as their chaser flew loops in a short celebration. The whole house it seemed had turned out for the match against Gryffindor, their long time rivals, eager to see them beaten in a sport they prided themselves the champions in for having won it multiple years in a row.
Avior cheered alongside his fellow Slytherin's, but all of his attention was on their Seeker, Flint, who was circling the pitch, eyes darting about frantically in search of the snitch. He looped around almost lazily, but his sharp gaze gave away his true focus on his task. The Gryffindor Seeker didn't pay him much mind, thinking that he wasn't paying any attention. Avior thought Flint's tactic was a brilliant one, if ineffective after a few games.
Suddenly, his broom jerked into action, a far cry from its previous sedate pace, rushing abruptly towards the ground.
Flint had spotted the snitch.
Exhilaration filled him as he watched Flint dive for the snitch at top speeds, followed closely by the Gryffindor seeker who had spotted his descent and decided to shadow him. The two raced, neck and neck at some points as they grew closer to the ground, dangerously so. In the background, another goal was scored by Slytherin, but the stands were fixated on the Seeker's, anticipation palpable.
Avior began to worry as the pair showed no signs of slowing until he saw the smirk on the Slytherin seeker's face. He sharply pulled up, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ground, unlike the Gryffindor who hit it with an ominous thud.
Flint then snapped out his hand, catching the fleeing snitch in it, smiling with satisfaction. Silence deafened the stadium for a few moments until the announcement from the commentator broke it.
" And Flint, seeker to the Slytherin team, has caught the snitch! 260:70 to Slytherin!"
The crowd went wild.
Some Gryffindor's rushed down to the pitch to check on their slowly awakening seeker, aiming harsh glares at Flint who was now on the shoulders of his fellow players. He only laughed them off, being carried off to the Slytherin common room so that the whole house could celebrate their first Quidditch win of the year.
Unlike what most would think, Slytherin celebrations were by far the wildest, filled with children, teenagers and young adults who have to act with the utmost poise every day, all day. It was a time for them to let loose without the expectations of their families hanging over their heads.
"Welike to drink with Richard cause Richard is our mate, and whenwe drink with Richard he gets it down in 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1."
Avior watched on, amused, as a bunch of fifth years played a drinking game, Riddle hovering around them with a scowl, but not stopping them. He chuckled a bit as the one named Richard stumbled, nearly colliding with the ire-filled Prefect, whose glower deepened to a near thunderous level as he watched the boy fall to the floor into a heap.
" Tommy really doesn't look happy with them. I bet five Galleons that they won't be present for breakfast tomorrow." Turais sounded beyond amused and a tinge bloodthirsty as he eyed the younger Slytherins, unknowing of Avior's wary stare as he took in his hungry expression.
" I bet ten." Abraxas drawled from where he was sitting on another setee, eyeing his brother who was being fussed over by his betrothed, Verity Travers. Arcadius was busy swatting away the cooing girls' hands, who had decided that it was a good idea to down a bottle of wine to herself.
Abraxas was most unimpressed with her. He'd surely be telling his father about the lack of decorum his supposedly esteemed betrothed was showing, in public no less!
" Twenty!" Another boy chuckled out from behind his book, a glass of firewhiskey held in his hand.
" What do you mean?" Avior question his cousin, who snapped his head to him, eyes slightly wide as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.
" Ah, well Tom hates when people get drunk enough to not pay attention to their surroundings, so he'll probably not allow them to take a hangover potion tomorrow morning. They won't dare to show up in the Great Hall with the splitting headaches that they'll have." He was satisfied with that answer, as it fit correctly, so he turned back to his conversation with Casimir, missing Turais' face of relief. " Speaking of morning, it is a school day tomorrow, so I think it's best if you first years went up now."
" But-"
" No buts, up, now. You will be grouchy tomorrow if you don't, it's far past the time for eleven-year-olds to be up. Your mother would surely have my head on a pike for even allowing you to be up until now." Avior scowled at his cousin's grinning features, standing up with an exaggerated huff.
" Fine. Night, then."
" Nighty night!" His cousin's jaunty wave only succeeded to further annoy him as he sneered, stomping up the steps to his dorm room. It was only November, and he was already eagerly awaiting the Christmas holidays.
18th December 1943 - The start of the Christmas Holidays
Avior was absolutely buzzing with excitement, peering out of the window eagerly as the train pulled into King's Cross station, impatient for the long ride to finally end. He bolted for the door as soon as the platform came into view, a hand capturing the collar of his robes forcing him to stop.
" Woah there, no need to rush Avi. Give us a second to collect our trunks and for the train to actually stop, yeah?" Orion tutted as he held onto his squirming brother, who pouted but conceded, bouncing on the spot.
When he was finally released, he rushed to the train doors, flying out of them and into his father's waiting arms.
" Father!" He cheered, tightening his hold on him. Arcturus chuckled, ruffling his hand through blond hair, smiling down at his youngest child. He had missed him immensely, never having been away from his child for this amount of time before.
" Welcome back, Avior. Did you enjoy your first term at Hogwarts?" He questioned, nodding his head in greeting when he noticed the arrival of the other Black's attending Hogwarts.
" Yeah, it was amazing!"
" I don't doubt it was." Arcturus smiled indulgently, pushing his son slightly to the right so that he could greet Melania, who'd waited as patiently as a mother could by his side.
" Mother!"
He walked up to his elder son, wrapping an arm around him to give him a teenager-acceptable hug. Orion still squirmed but received it with all the grace of a pureblooded heir that he was. " Orion, I hope you are well."
" I am, Father."
" And how are you, Lucretia?"
" I am as well." She smiled, wrapping her father in a tight hug.
" Good, and you, Turais, Alphard, Walburga?" He turned away from his children, focusing on his niece and nephews.
" Yes, Uncle Arcturus, I am fine." Turais beamed, Alphard nodding along in confirmation. Walburga inclined her head snootily, much to his ire, but he ignored the girl and her attempts to act superior to him.
This had begun to happen ever since she had arrived home after her betrothal to his son Orion in his first year. Apparently, all the congratulations and sucking up from her friends as the future Lady Black had gone to her head, and she now believed that they were on the same level as one another.
Oh, where had the girl who used to look up at him and grin toothily disappeared to. It made his heartbreak just looking upon the vile young woman she had become. He was seriously regretting the betrothal between his son and her now, but Orion somehow held feelings for the undesirable wench.
He sighed, looking towards his youngest son. He wouldn't allow himself to ruin his future marriage, he had decided that he would allow his son to find his own wife, if only so that he'd have one tolerable daughter-in-law.
18th December - Late Evening
" Are we having a ball this year, Grandfather?" Avior asked Sirius from his seat on the lounge, a book cradled in his hands. His closer relatives, his paternal Grandparents, Aunt Lycorus and Uncle Regulus, had all arrived today to welcome him back home from his first term at Hogwarts, as well as to spend the days approaching Yule with them. His lesser relatives, those not directly from the main line any longer, were going to arrive on Yule.
" No, the Malfoy's have invited us to their own one this year. And we discussed that it would disrupt their ball if we were also to hold one, so it was mutually decided that we would not. We will, however, be holding a new-years gathering. Only attended by our closest allied families, mind."
" Really! Do I need to get some new robes if they have a theme, or is it not that formal?"
" Hm, I believe that they wish for their guests to wear whatever they like, as long as it is traditional ball wear, so you do not. But, wear a robe that you have not appeared in yet, it would be a disgrace to look as though we cannot afford to clothe you in new things, after all."
" I have just the outfit, although it will need mother's approval beforehand." His grandfather chuckled at that, looking fondly to where his mother was sitting, browsing the evening edition of the Daily Prophet.
" Yes, your mother has a keen eye for fashion, she will surely make sure that you are dressed to your absolute best." His mother looked up then, grinning in their direction.
" Of course I will, Father." His grandfather couldn't help but to look happily in her direction at that. " What outfit did you have in mind, sweetheart?"
" My black and silver robes, the one's father took me to get before I went to Hogwarts."
" And you haven't worn it on your weekends at Hogwarts?"
" No, I didn't even take it with me."
" I will see. I do quite like your new white ones, but I know that you don't like to wear that colour as much as darker shades."
Avior smiled at his mother, saying goodnight to the pair before running to the stairs. He had homework to do that he wanted to get done as soon as possible. It wouldn't do to miss out on the upcoming festivities, after all.
Malfoy Ball - 23rd December 1943
The Malfoy's had really gone full out with the decorations for their yule ball, every inch of their manor house was lavished in winter-themed colours and riches.
There were many people in attendance, from his own family and their circle, to government officials that were deep in the pockets of the Malfoy's.
Cyran Malfoy, the head of the Malfoy family, as well as Arcadius and Abraxas' father, had already greeted them as soon as they had arrived in the hall. He had been eager to greet his father, who was probably one of his few actual friends that weren't only there for the Malfoy's wealth and reputation.
But, he had left them to be a while ago, needing to greet the ball's other attendees, as did they, which they were currently doing.
" Lord Black. It is delightful to see you here tonight, as well as your wonderful grandson."
" Mr Evergreen! How have you been? Last I heard, your wife had given birth. A little girl, wasn't it?"
" Yes, my little Evie, she's grown up so well. She's eight months old now, and the light of our lives, alongside our sons, of course."
" And how are Darius and Caleb?"
" Well as ever. Darius will be off to Hogwarts next year for his first year and Caleb is jealous as anything about that. I've taken to teaching him about accounting this past summer, just to try and make him feel a little less left out as the missus has been doting on the other two. Your daughter, Lucretia and niece Walburga are graduating, aren't they? Ready to go off into the world and search for a husband."
" Lucretia has her eyes on the Prewett boy, which her mother deeply approves of. And, of course, Walburga herself is betrothed to my son, Orion."
" Ah, yes yes, I remember. Well, It was nice to have a talk with you, Lord Black."
" You too, Mr Evergreen."
The jovial man left with a quick wave, joining up with an elegant woman dressed in finery. His wife, Avior correctly guessed. Avior watched them leave, startled out of his watching by his grandfather placing a hand on their shoulder. It seems that their next talk was about to begin.
Their next conversation was with someone whose presence he hadn't been expecting to be in attendance at such a high society pureblood family's ball, even if he was acquaintances with their heir.
" Tom Riddle, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. Turais speaks highly of his closest friend." His grandfather greeted the boy cordially, eyeing him with an emotion Avior couldn't quite decipher.
" The pleasure is all mine, Lord Black. I am honoured to have a friend who holds me in such regard." Riddle looked, for lack of a better word, stunning in his black, clean-cut robes, obviously made of high-end material and by a master of the craft.
Avior could see from the appreciative glances Riddle was getting by many in attendance that he wasn't alone in his thoughts. Even Aunt Lycoris was looking, and that was a big surprise because she far preferred the fairer sex, as shown by the dainty blonde hanging on her arm, her most recent fling.
" It is lovely to see you this fine yule, Avior." Tom's attention turned to him, and he was lost for words for a moment, before regaining his previous composure.
" Yes, Tom." He responded in kind, but no before gulping on a subtle breath. " It is a pleasure to see you here."
The older boy gave him a grin that completely changed his demeanour, from a cool and composed heir to a carefree and open-hearted fellow. It made his heart stop in its tracks, not starting up again until Tom had said his goodbye's and turned away.
Breathing out deeply, Avior waited until Riddle had wandered off far enough until he turned eagerly towards his grandfather.
" He's amazing, isn't he grandfather? His magic feels so dense and heavy, he must have an extreme amount of it! There's even more than Dumbledore has, and it's common knowledge how much he possesses. I can see why Turais would hang around him, despite his blood status."
" Yes, yes. Although, It's a shame that pure blood has been tainted with that of a muggle's. However, it is good to finally see one with Gaunt blood who actually has their sanity intact, so maybe it was for the best. Along with his looks, which he surely didn't get from one of them, surely a blessing. In a few generations, if that boy marries a pureblood, and his children marry purebloods, then their line will be considered pure once more, albeit in the vaguest sense."
" New purebloods are at least better than half-bloods, dear." Hesper chided him, as she was close to quite a few new pureblooded lines who had seen the error in their ways and righted their mistake.
" Of course they are, but still, their blood is dirtied with the presence of muggle filth! No matter if all four of their grandparents are magical, they will always be lesser in my eyes, and they will never regain the title of a true pureblood." His grandfather seemed to have forgotten all about him, instead, ranting to his grandmother about all the ways muggles were polluting their pure lines, staining them.
He wanted to go and search for his friends, but etiquette dictated that he must greet his houses political allies along with his grandfather before he could enjoy the festivities of the ball. Orion was being paraded around with their father, the heir and heir apparent of the house, while he as the second son was to stay with his grandfather.
He sighed out a deep breath as he watched everyone mingle, their chittering laughs grating on his nerves as they cooed at him. This was not going to be the enjoyable few hours that he had expected them to be.
A day late, but it needed those extra few hours of editing in which I managed to add around 600 words to the chapter. More of the ball in the next chapter. Comment ideas of what will happen at the ball, as I want to add a little drama at least :) Next update will hopefully be on schedule, but I need to update my other two fics before then.
-Berry
