Hermione felt the magic build as she forced the words of the incantation out. Her own heart beat thudded in her ears and she fought to keep her mind focused. The metallic scent of blood bloomed around her. She took a deep breath. She wasn't the first. This was the only way to claim the seat and accomplish what was needed. It was risky. Ancient magics came with severe consequences for failure. She grinned. Failure was not an option. She pushed the last word through her lips and everything fell silent.
The floor under her feet accepted her offering and the stones glowed in a wide spectrum of colors before returning to their original charcoal grayness. She felt her hand heat as the wound healed. The spell had worked.
She dragged in a breath and fought the urge to turn toward the gallery. Looking at her new family wouldn't help. They weren't going to be happy with her.
"Are you quite finished with your little show?" An unfamiliar voice pushed the rushing beat of her heart into the background white noise. She looked up into an oddly familiar, toad like face. An Umbridge, of that, there was no doubt. She couldn't fight back the small lift of her lips. She hadn't imagined that this could be fun.
"I'm afraid you are out of order." She tilted her head. "I quite literally have the floor."
He turned an odd purple color, but sat back as his fellows dragged at his robes. She blinked slowly, waiting for the room to settle. The men on either side of him didn't release him. It was good to see some people had sense.
"So, it would seem I need to remind some of the people in this room about its history." She heard Harry smother a chuckle. It was odd how sharp her senses were in this state.
"This chamber was once called the Lords' Justice. I'm translating of course. The languages spoken at the time are no longer much in use. As a descendant of one of those men, I called forth my chair seven days ago."
"You aren't the descendant of anyone." Umbridge erupted from his seat and cast off the men trying to restrain him. "You're a trumped up little hussy."
"Are you challenging me?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you understand the risks? I knew what I was doing when I cast that spell. I need to know that you did as well."
"I don't need a lesson from you, little girl." The man stepped closer.
"Roland, I wouldn't." Augusta Longbottom shook her head slightly. "She's invoked the full rites. If you challenge and lose, assuming you survive the challenge, you lose your right to a seat and see your House disbanded."
"Good to see you again, Lady Longbottom." Hermione grinned up at the older matriarch.
"Don't bother flattering me, Lady Black. I'm well aware of what you can do with a wand." The witch sighed. "Come over for dueling practice and tea when you get the chance. Perhaps, between us, we can get that grandson of mine to take my seat and let me putter about in the greenhouses."
"Parting Neville from his greenhouses is beyond my skills, but I would love to visit." Hermione grinned.
"Making plans for tea as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth." Roland Umbridge stood up again. "You have no right to that seat. My sister has told me all about you. You are nothing, and I will prove it."
The squat man waved off the others and stepped onto the floor. The stones glowed beneath his feet.
"I did try to warn you." Hermione smiled widely at him. It wasn't a kind smile. "The floor is imbued with generations of Black blood. I am the acknowledged Black heir. The chair came when I called for it. The chamber recognizes my rights. To challenge me, you must prove to the chamber that you have such a right."
Roland Umbridge dropped to his knees. The power in the stones beneath him throbbed against his knees. He could hear the girl talking, but the words wouldn't conform to any sense for him. He looked up at her and saw a thousand dark haired wizards standing behind her. One that looked remarkably like Sirius Black rested a hand on her shoulder.
"She's the true Black." The spectral Sirius smirked. "Dark so that her magic may shine all the brighter. Stars in the night, we Blacks are."
"She is the true heir of Black" Roland fell to the floor and felt his magic sinking away from him. He knew his family chair was gone. He'd lost everything in a pitiful ploy.
She extended a hand toward him. He dragged a ragged breath into his body and reached up towards her. She was his only hope. Her ancestors would take his lifeforce as well as his magic. Only her mercy could spare him.
"Your seat is gone. Your name is stricken from the roll." She pulled him to his feet. "If you leave now, your magic may be spared."
Words wouldn't come. Not even those of thanks. He saw the understanding in her eyes and fled. He wouldn't be a squib.
Narcissa gripped Lucius hand. Their daughter had invoked the oldest powers of organized wizardry. Goddesses above and below, the girl might well be the death of them. She took small steady breaths. She'd already given the press enough of a story with her outward reactions.
The power in the room surged and a spectral form flowed up from the floor. He stalked around Hermione and stopped in front of her.
"You show mercy. It is not our way." The summoned spirit of Nigellus tilted his head and examined her.
"I will not show mercy a second time." Hermione raised her eyes and stared directly into his spectral eyes. "I did not want it bandied about that I used the accounting to punish an old and vanquished foe anew."
"Wise and bold." The spirit tossed its head back and laughed. "Are you bold enough to stand before us?"
"I came for the accounting." She curtsied before him.
Narcissa felt the urge to scream. This was not what she wanted. She wanted to protect her daughter, but Hermione had taken the opportunity to rush head long into danger.
"These weak creatures behind us are but ephemera. They flow away and others take their place. We remain." The spirit spun his hand and four other spirits rose from the floor. "You come here, daughter of my house, to judge and to be judged. You have awakened us with your power. Prove worthy and live."
"I come to offer an accounting. My worth was proved when I summoned your chair." Hermione grinned as one of the spirits chortled behind her. "My life is not yours to take."
"Bold." One of the spirits chortled. "She will do. Better than the last few generations."
"Garven the Red." Hermione nodded to the spirit.
"How did you know?" The spirit smirked.
"Your direct line did not last, but your daughters helped found several houses. Bones, Weasley, Gryffindor. Warriors all." She smiled. "Boldness has served me well."
"You are my heir not his." Nigellus growled. "My favour would see you in better standing than his."
She nodded her head.
"You are acceptable. Account for your house." A different spirit snapped.
"The last recognized holder of this chair was Sirius Orion Black. He had two sons. Both were judged harshly, but not at all. I declare them both members in good standing of the House of Black."
"They do not move in your world and you can not summon them back, why do you concern yourself with their honor?" Nigellus frowned down at her.
"I will defend my House and all it's members." Hermione rolled back her shoulders and frowned back at the spirit. "I stand for them."
"Any others you need to defend?" Garven smiled and drifted closer.
"Debts of honor stand for the ill treatment of Dorea Black Potter. I claim the right to stand for her Grandson by right of blood."
Hermione glanced up to Harry. "He is the true heir of his house, yet he does not sit in this chamber."
"You will sponsor his call?" One of the spirits swirled close to her and then drifted up to glance at Harry. "You would give this one his power?"
"He would have to stand for his own accounting." Hermione licked her lips.
"She is acceptable." The spirit swirled around her and paused before her. "Any other causes to champion?"
"Yes, Alfred of the Fen." Hermione stepped closer to the ghost. "I reinstate Andromeda Black Tonks, the daughter of Cygnus. I claim Nymphadora Tonks Lupin, daughter of Andromeda, Theodore Tonks, husband of Andromeda, Remus Lupin, husband of Nymphadora, and Theodore Alaric Lupin, son of Nymphadora. Mine to defend and to honor."
"So mote it be." The spirits all swirled about.
Narcissa looked at her sister and smiled slightly. Hermione was acquitting herself well. This spectacle would stand her in good stead if she survived it.
"I approve." The tallest spirit floated up and looked at Andromeda. "She has vision."
"Thank you. Rhys of the Bluestone." Hermione took a deep breath.
"Not quite finished." The spirit grinned wide and spun quickly to face Hermione.
"By right of kinship, I demand Lucius Malfoy, husband of Narcissa Celestine Black Malfoy and father to me, be allowed to reclaim his seat." Hermione looked up at them and Narcissa saw the wide smile on her face.
"She has no rights to make such a demand." One of the members found their voice. "He is a marked Death Eater."
"Do you challenge me?" Hermione looked toward the woman that had spoken. "Or are you challenging their right to decide?"
The spirits turned toward the member and the room cooled. Frost traced patterns across the stone. Narcissa held her breath until Lucius rose from his place beside her.
"I will offer an accounting of my own and proof that I no longer carry a mark. My daughter is loyal, but I will fight my battles." Lucius stood firm as the spirits flew towards him.
"An accounting with us." Nigellus grinned. "You will stand upon this floor before us as your daughter has."
"Yes." Lucius bowed.
He was as wild and foolish as their daughter. Narcissa clenched her hands in her lap. This was not what she had planned.
"Our house has a grievous debt to pay." Hermione called out. "Bellatrix, daughter of Cygnus, did torture Lord and Lady Longbottom. Her crimes are a stain upon this house."
"Then cast her out." The unnamed spirit stilled in front of Hermione.
"I can not." Hermione took a deep breath. "I will not pretend. Reparations must be made."
"You are worthy." The ghost kissed her on the forehead.
"Lenus." Hermione blinked and two tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and into the ghost's hands. He held them tightly closed.
"You take the hard and honorable path." He opened his hands and dropped two pearls into her hands. "Use these wisely."
"You are chaos in fine form, daughter of my house." Nigellus hovered close to her. "I am not sure what to do with you."
Severus felt the stone grow cold as it rested against his skin. He flinched. His hand fell onto the paper spread on his desk.
He could see her standing in a circle surrounded by ghosts.
He could hear her heartbeat speeding along, but she looked at ease.
Even as the vision faded, he knew.
She'd called forth the first council for her accounting.
He closed his eyes and began to pray.