The Most Noble House Of Black
"You should have taken my advice. The green suited you better."
Buffy didn't bother to argue. She kept still, allowing Lucretia Black to apply charmed eyeshadow to her eyelids. Walburga could moan all she wanted, she knew clothes and what suited her best. The older girl was not putting doubt into her mind.
She'd spent several hours yesterday with Walburga and Lucretia as the three of them tried on outfits for the dinner party. Lucretia, who was closer to Buffy in size, hadn't lied about her mother's over-packing. She had a trunk full of dresses, and the two of them had bonded over fashion. By the end of the afternoon, she'd narrowed her choice down to three.
There was a dark-green fitted silk dress, a pretty floral dress with tiny sprays of forget-me-nots magically embroidered to open and close, and a soft-apricot belted dress made by magical silkworms which shimmered under artificial lighting.
Walburga had favoured the dark green. Buffy suspected it was because green was the colour of Slytherin House and she'd chosen a green and silver dress herself. Lucretia preferred the floral, saying that it looked elegant. In the end, Buffy selected the apricot dress, telling the other girls that the colour flattered her skin tone. In reality, she'd picked it because the skirt was fuller and it would hide the stake that she planned on carrying in her garter.
Not that she intended to sneak out of the Black house and patrol the nearby graveyards. Lovell would have a heart attack for a start, and there was the fact there was a manhunt going on for the killer of a vampire she'd staked. That she was considered as a murderer sort of freaked her out. No, she was not going hunting. The only reason she intended to carry a weapon was that Uma and Fiona had filled her head with tales of the Black's creepy house.
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place had been built in the 1700s, and the Black family had 'persuaded' a Muggle family to leave and had lived there ever since. Each generation adding more and more macabre and cursed objects to the house. And the house was not just filled with dark items. There were all sorts of weird things living there, from a wily boggart in the cellar to a murderous ghoul in the attic.
Uma and Fiona had gleefully given her lots of advice on how to handle staying there.
'If you find an old box, don't sniff the contents.' As if she was that stupid!
'If you find any jewellery, don't put it on.' What did they think she was? A kleptomaniac?
'Don't touch anything that looks like it wants you to touch it.' That one had gotten a 'Huh?' It turned out some objects were Charmed so that you had the urge to touch or wear them. Once you did the dark curse would take effect.
They'd also told her to watch out for the severed head collection. Annoyingly, neither would explain, simply exchanging looks and chorusing, 'you'll find out,' before dissolving into giggles.
Lucretia tugged on the end of the scarf that she'd used to protect Buffy's dress from make-up. "All done."
Buffy stood and began shaking out the creases in her skirts.
"What, in Morgana's name, is that thing around your neck?" Walburga hissed.
Buffy frowned. "What?" Her hand reached up and touched the pendant she'd found in her Mom's vault. "Oh, that!" It had slipped from behind the dress neckline while she'd been smoothing out her skirt.
"Uncle Peregrine says it's the sign of the Deathly Hallows. You know, the one were the three billy goats cross a river and meet -." Buffy stopped and tapped her head. "No, wrong fairy tale." She began again, "Three brothers – I knew it was something to do with three – they meet Death, defy him, and are given gifts... yadda, yadda. Do you like it?" She could already tell by Walburga's face that she didn't, but thought it fun to ask.
Walburga gave a contemptuous sniff. Buffy had no idea how she did it, but Walburga had uncomplimentary nasal noises down to an art form.
"No, I don't." Walburga replied. The necklace she wore was a large tear-shaped sapphire surrounded by diamonds on a platinum chain. " It's either childish or a sign of mad person."
"You'd know more about madness than me," Buffy replied.
Walburga scowled back at her, sensing an insult. "Some people believe that childish story is real."
Buffy shrugged a shoulder. She liked her necklace, she didn't care if the story was real or not.
"I shall lend you something more appropriate." Walburga became silent, mentally going over the contents of her jewellery box in her mind. "I have a necklace and bracelet taken from the tomb of the Egyptian Pharaoh Teti The Obnoxious that might suit."
"Thanks, but I'll give it a miss." Buffy said, sitting on Lucretia's bed as she waited for her to put the finishing touches to her hair. She was not going to wear jewellery stolen from a tomb. It was bound to be cursed, if not by Teti, then by one of the Black family.
Walburga was quiet for a few moments until she spotted something else to complain about.
"The problem with charmed clothing is that the caster must be an expert, otherwise it looks cheap." She was looking at Buffy's shoes.
Buffy fumed. She'd spent ages getting the charms right to convert slippers to evening shoes.
"I think they're very pretty," Lucretia said before Buffy had time to make a pithy come-back about people who wore green shoes with fruit attachments.
Lucretia stretched out her feet, showing off the blue leather shoes which matched her dress perfectly. "I used a colour charm on mine. See?"
It didn't satisfy Walburga. "But should anyone cast a Finite in your direction, only the colour will change and a discreet spell will rectify it. Buffy's shoes will revert to fluffy slippers. Imagine how mortifying it would be, being associated with her."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "If everything I'm wearing is so wizarding-inappropriate, maybe I should stay here."
Lucretia frowned at Walburga, making a not so subtle gesture to be quiet. Not that it worked.
"It's arranged!" shrieked Walburga.
Buffy shrugged. "Then un-arrange. Why do I care?"
Lucretia grabbed Walburga's arm and steered her to the door."Would you check to see if the boys have already flooed out? They're supposed to leave before us."
Once she'd left, Lucretia sat on the bed beside Buffy. "You don't want to disappoint your mother," she pointed out gently. "You told me yourself that she was looking forward to seeing you."
"That's so not fair," muttered Buffy. "Using Mom against me." The Healers at St Mungo's had said Von Kendrick had used Dark Magic on her mother and it worried Buffy that she still needed treatment.
Lucretia gave Buffy a soft smile and patted her hand. "You look lovely. I'm sure your mother will approve of you and how you've styled your hair."
"Walburga doesn't think so." Not that Buffy cared what the older girl thought. She just wished she'd not been drilling into her head like a Nargle.
"Walburga is nervous about tonight."
At Buffy's questioning look, Lucretia explained how Walburga always strove to make a good impression when visiting their home, she went on. "You would think she'd have grown used to our family by now, but Father intimidates most people. He has a tendency to..."
"Wig people out?" supplied Buffy. Uma was related to him by her aunt's marriage and Fiona had met him at several Society events. Both said he was scary.
Lucretia's lips twitched upwards. "Hmm, 'wig' people out. If wig means scare... then yes, he wigs people out. Has Walburga told you what she'd like to do between leaving school and marrying Orion?"
Buffy wrinkled her nose. Had she told her? She couldn't remember. "We're not that close."
Walburga mainly hung out in the Slytherin Common Room. Buffy spent most of her free time in the library or sneaking out after curfew to patrol the deserted castle corridors with Spikey.
"Walburga wishes to leave England and travel around Europe after leaving Hogwarts," said Lucretia. "She's concerned that Father will put a stop to it."
"Why does she need permission? I thought at seventeen you were classed as an adult, and you made your own decisions."
"It's because she's betrothed to Orion."
Buffy frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Why-."
Lucretia interrupted, "He doesn't want any slander or gossip attached to the bride of his son. If someone told him Walburga had been playing loose over there..." her words died away as she stood, picking up her evening bag off the dresser. "With father, it's a case of doing exactly as he tells us or we risk being-."
"Blown off the tree?"
The other girl nodded. "I hope she won't mention her plans tonight, it would be the wrong time. Father knows your mother met her..." there was a pause, and her voice dropped, "...Muggle husband whilst travelling alone in Europe."
Lucretia said 'Muggle husband' in the same way other people said 'contracted syphilis.'
"I don't see why people have such a big problem with Muggles." She really didn't. "Okay, I can understand why there's the Statute of Secrecy, but Muggles are human, like us. They just don't have the..." Buffy flicked her wand into the air and a fountain of red sparks flew from the end, "...sparkage."
Lucretia gave a delicate shrug. "It doesn't matter what you think. We don't have a choice. Father monitors everything Orion and I do. He even checks on who our friends are."
Buffy's look was sceptical.
"It's true! You'll find most children of the Sacred 28 face the same scrutiny from their family. If I became friends with a Muggleborn," she said, turning for the door, "bad enough a girl but especially a boy, someone would tell their mother, they would gossip, my father would find out, and my life wouldn't be worth living."
Buffy still thought Lucretia was being dramatic. She followed her. "Don't take it. Stand up for yourself. Tell him you're entitled to have the friends you choose."
"And be disowned?" Lucretia raised a dark eyebrow. "Cut off without finances or any support for the rest of my life? Careers blocked, friends avoiding you, being a pariah in society?" Lucretia gave a huff of frustration. "You don't understand what it's like. Forced to take on a role and be something you don't want."
'The sun shone in Buffy's eyes as she sat alone on the steps outside of Hemery High School. She sucked on the lollipop and waited for her Mom to pick her up. Buses drew away from the school, students hurried past and, suddenly, there was a man in front of her. Beyond thinking that his suit was awful, Buffy didn't take much notice of him at first, thinking he was a teacher or a parent.
"Buffy Summers? he asked. When she gave a cautious nod, he added, "You have a destiny."
"Nope, destiny free," she'd retorted, wondering why she always attracted the weirdos.
"You are the Chosen One. You alone can stop them..."
The vision or memory was so strong that Buffy missed her footing. She fell sideways, colliding into the wall and knocking the portrait of an elderly witch in a twisted hat askew. The witch shrieked with fright as her world tilted.
Lucretia stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Are you alright? What happened?"
"I'm fine. I'm such a klutz. I lost my balance." Buffy righted the portrait with a soft apology to the witch inside. "Guess it's been a while since I wore heels." She liked Lucretia and didn't want the girl to know about her zoning-out episodes.
Fiona and Uma rushed over when they emerged into the Common Room. Others looked up, drawn by the flurry of movement and the sight of the two girls dressed for a dinner party. Buffy saw the Parkinson girls scowling and whispering to each other. When they noticed her looking they broke into brays of laughter and pointed at her shoes. Marcus Lestrange gave her an appreciative grin and Antonin Dolohov looked her over doing a mental undress. Buffy tried not to shudder. That guy was a creepozoid of the highest order.
"Morgana! You scrub up well," Fiona said to Buffy. "You too, Lucretia. It's just I've never seen Buffy in anything other than her uniform and pyjamas."
Uma gave Buffy a sly grin. "I think You-Know-Who approves. His eyeballs nearly popped out."
Buffy's smile became wider. She knew exactly who 'You-Know-Who' was and had hoped she'd get that reaction from him. She cast a sneaky look to the back of the room where Tom sat playing a game of Wizarding chess with Abraxus Malfoy. Her heart sank. He wasn't even looking in her direction! To her annoyance, his attention was on Walburga and Dolohov as they crossed the room together.
"Miss Black, you look divine!" The French-born wizard took Lucretia's hand and planted a light kiss on her knuckles.
Knowing that she might be next, Buffy began to ease herself away, but the young Wizard was too fast. He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips."Might I say, how... absolutely 'ravishing' you look tonight."
"You just did," Buffy replied. Was it her imagination or were his lips lingering? How repulsive was this guy? Losing her patience, she tugged her hand free, dropped it to her side, and gave her fingers a discreet rub on the back of her skirt. Icky Dolohov disease. She'd need to cast a strong cleaning spell and wash her hands with strong soap to make doubly sure all the Dolohov spit was gone.
Ignoring the 'Go-Away' vibe Buffy was projecting, Dolohov moved closer.
"Your aloof radiance transfixes me," he whispered, his voice slick. "Are you part Veela?"
"Oh. No. And I'm not part Troll, either, before you ask." Buffy replied sourly. Did he really think she was going to be impressed with the part Veela comment?
"Alphard, Rigel and Lovell already left," snapped Walburga. "We shouldn't dawdle or we'll be late."
Buffy thought the sooner the better. She'd rather deal with the egotistic Arcturus Black than a slimeball like Dolohov.
*.*
Arcturus Black cleared his throat loudly, and asked, "And who exactly IS the girl's father?"
There was no dramatic dropping of plates or choking on fish bones, but the guests around the dinner table fell into an uncomfortable silence at the question. Over on the mantelpiece, an elegant clock began chiming the hour, the delicate ting-ting sound clearly heard in the stillness of the room. Next to Buffy, Alphard and Rigel stared rigidly down at the food on their monogrammed plates. Both boys were acting as if it was normal for a host to ask about a guest's paternity.
With the feeling she was watching a train wreck about to happen, Buffy watched her mom dabbing at her lips with a napkin. She must be considering her answer. Would she freak or take the question in her stride? Her mom's eyes went to Uncle Peregrine, who sat facing her, and then back to Arcturus at the head of the table.
"What makes you think Buffy isn't my ex-husband's daughter?" Joyce replied once the clock had finished chiming.
Buffy cringed. She cut into the baked trout on her plate and tried not to look over at Walburga. The eldest Black girl sat on the opposite side of the table eating her food with shameless innocence. Buffy had the urge to stand up and hit Walburga over the head with a plate for putting her and her mom in this position.
As for the man who'd just asked that question...
Buffy had disliked him on sight. Her host was an arrogant middle-aged man who wore his dark hair swept up and away from his forehead. When they'd been introduced and she'd shaken his hand, his magic had felt cold and repulsive. He'd also only once addressed her by her name all evening. Most of the time he spoke only to the adults, and referred to her as 'the girl'.
"I have heard rumours," Arcturus intoned slowly as if Joyce was deaf and half-witted, "that the girl's father is a Pureblood who seduced and abandoned you. Is that true?"
Joyce looked ill.
Buffy stopped pretending to eat and glared at Walburga. She must have sensed she was in dangerous territory as she didn't look over.
"Don't worry mom," Buffy said. "It's just the dumb kids at school saying that, because I can summon a Phoenix Patronus, I must be Professor Dumbledore's love child."
There was a pause. Her mom's face cleared, and she laughed. "Albus Dumbledore?! You're joking?"
Buffy shook her head.
"Albus Dumbledore..." mused Joyce. "The gossip in Hogwarts is worse than when you were there, Peregrine."
Peregrine gave his sister a faint smile. "Hogwarts has always been full of children with nothing better to do than fantasise about their professors' private lives." The look he sent Arcturus's way was far more disapproving. "I doubt Albus will thank you for spreading childish rumours, Arcturus."
"I haven't..." blustered Arcturus. He gave his son, Orion, a dark look. "There are a lot of rumours flying about the girl."
"I can't say that I'm happy my sister has been asked such a impertinent question," Peregrine went on. "It's a very rude thing to ask a guest during dinner."
Buffy tried not to smirk. She was glad that her uncle had pulled Arcturus on his poor behaviour, it was obvious few others had ever dared.
Arcturus's face began to turn an odd colour, a mixture of deep red and purple. Buffy, always sensitive to people's magic, could feel the way his magic and anger began vibrating around him. Did he intend to use his magic? Discreetly she opened the purse she'd kept on her knee – giving better access to her wand.
"Perhaps we should leave?" Peregrine offered quietly, putting his napkin onto the table.
"Please, don't!" Arcturus's wife called out. "He didn't mean to insult you." Now that she had their attention, Melania went on, "We're hoping to find a mutually beneficial way to repay the Life Debt that Rigel owes Buffy."
Buffy frowned, noticing the wording she'd used; 'Rigel owes Buffy', not 'we owe Buffy'. According to Walburga, the Life Debt would be incurred by Rigel's family because he was underage. Melania had used that phrase for a reason. Were Arcturus and Melania trying to dissociate Rigel and his debt from the rest of the family? Was Arcturus going to go along with Rigel's insane plan of them marrying?
"What's going on?" Buffy whispered to Alphard, who kept his cheek turned away and pretended not to hear her.
She tried not to panic. She still had free will. She was not going to end the evening engaged to Rigel Black!
"My son has suggested a way of nullifying the debt," Pollux Black explained. He leaned forward, his focus on Peregrine. "I know he's mentioned it to Buffy and Buffy is interested in the idea."
Buffy felt nauseous. Interested? INTERESTED? She'd only said she wouldn't give a straight no. She had never said she was interested! She glared at Rigel for getting her into this. He wasn't even a mature eleven-year-old! He looked about nine!
"What idea?" Joyce asked, looking from Pollux to Buffy, and from Buffy to Rigel in confusion.
Pollux went on, "Rigel is interested in turning the debt into a lifelong connection. To wit, a marriage between them, and a bond made between the Blacks and the Lovegoods.
"No," said Joyce, giving Buffy the stink eye. "She shouldn't have agreed to this."
Buffy huffed. This was not her idea. She didn't want to marry Rigel, have access to his Gringotts' vault, or the Black family connections. The only reason she was staying silent was that she'd made a promise.
"Buffy is far too young to consider it." Joyce said firmly. She turned in her seat, addressing Buffy. "Honey, what were you thinking? Why did you agree to do this without telling me?"
Both Alphard and Rigel's heads turned panicked eyes onto Buffy. Across the table, Walburga and Orion did the same but more sourly.
Buffy shrugged and said the first thing that came into her head, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Buffy!" Exasperated, Joyce shook her head at her.
Buffy knew what that meant. It meant she was going to get a lecture later.
Turning back to Arcturus and Pollux, Joyce drew in a deep breath. "I know that some families like to arrange early marriages for their children," she said, "and I know why it's done. I also know how some Purebloods use Blood Magic is tie the two together and ensure the union lasts..."
Buffy's eyes widened. 'Blood magic?' No one said anything about Blood Magic!
"...Buffy didn't know the Wizarding World existed until a couple of months ago, and I doubt she would care about the implications in saving Rigel. I won't stand by while you coerce her into this marriage to save your family's face."
"Save our face?" spat Arcturus, his face like thunder. "Coerce? The Blacks don't do that to our children. We simply help them make the best of themselves, in the same way that all Wizards and Witches do."
Buffy's head shot up, her eyes narrowing. Was that a dig at her mom for not being a Witch? For being a Squib?
All around her, the others were looking pale and wary again. Buffy knew that Arcturus Black was known for his phenomenal temper. She leaned forward to catch her host's eye and treated him to a death glare that would have most demons reassessing their situation.
He stared back at the rebellious teenager and raised an imperious eyebrow. His eyes were as dark and forbidding as his magic. Buffy's magic responded. Magic crackled like static around her, and her hair lifted as if blown by a breeze.
"Buffy," Lovell warned softly, so low that only a Slayer would hear it.
Realizing that she was challenging her host, which was sort of embarrassing (people were looking) and sort of not embarrassing (because he SO deserved it), Buffy broke off the staring match.
"The older generation of Wizards must guide the younger ones," continued Arcturus more mildly.
"It's the way things have been done for generations. As for the Life Debt... they are curious things and not to be ignored. One way or another, we must repay that debt."
His face had become thoughtful, and despite him addressing Peregrine and Joyce, his eyes kept drifting to Buffy. It seemed that he was more intrigued by the display of defiance than intimidated or annoyed.
"One established fact with Life Debts is that they cannot exist between a bonded pair. Hence Rigel's idea of marriage to Buffy is a sound one. However, that offer isn't on the table yet." Arcturus picked up his wine glass, keeping his eyes on Buffy. "Not when her bloodline is in question."
"Gee, thanks," drawled Buffy, picking her knife and fork up again.
"It isn't your fault, dear," Irma Black, Pollux's wife, said kindly. She was Uma Crabbe's aunt and knew Buffy roomed with her niece. "The Blacks only marry into other Pureblood families. We've no problem with the Lovegoods, it's your father's side we're concerned about. We've heard such things!"
Joyce made a small gasping noise.
Buffy looked at her in surprise. Was her mom frightened? That confused Buffy. Why didn't she just tell them she had a Muggle dad?
From nowhere an image of Hank Summers' letter came into mind. Buffy had read that letter so many times that she could bring up an image of it in her head and see each word, just as if it was in front of her.
'However, this does not change the fact that you lied to me from the start. You had a choice and chose the course of hiding...'
The next four words had always been illegible but, with a sudden burst of clarity, Buffy now knew what they said.
'… who her father is..'
Hank Summers was not her father! The knife she'd picked up again, dropped from her hand, falling onto the table, its landing muffled by the thick tablecloth. Although her memories of growing up were vague, Buffy knew that such a lie would have broken her parents' marriage.
She rubbed at her forehead and stared down at the yellow stain on the tablecloth she'd made. She felt sick. If Hank wasn't her Dad, who was? It must be a Wizard, someone Joyce had met around the same time as her father, no, not her father, Hank Summers. Was it Dumbledore? Everyone had commented on how strange it was that he'd tutored her over the summer and then there was the fact they shared the same Patronus...
"Do you wish to leave, Joyce?" she heard her Uncle Peregrine ask again. "Is this conversation making you feel uncomfortable?"
Her uncle knew!
How long had he known? Since she was born? Before? More recently? Hadn't her mother said in one of her recent letters that she and Peregrine had had a long talk and cleared the air between them? She stole a look at her uncle's face and wondered what he was thinking about all this.
Did he know who her father was? Was it Dumbledore? Minister Lestrange? He'd admitted to being a friend of her mom in the past and he'd behaved oddly. And if not them, who?
Did her biological father know she existed, or had Joyce hidden her pregnancy from him? Why had her mom never told her who her father really was? She needed to know the truth.
Joyce Summers took a deep breath, she raised her chin in the same way her daughter had done and regarded Arcturus defiantly. "Buffy's father is of no concern of the Black family. I'm not giving my blessing to this match..."
*.*.**
Next up... Buffy has a little side adventure in London.
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