A/n: Update.

"Good Morning Ms- Xun, Puck," Kurt smiled, "I have your Coffee." Kurt handed a cup to Puck and held one out for the woman who was riffling through her file cabinet, "What's her story?"

"She's trying to find the dossier on the Harry Potter case," Puck smiled sipping his coffee, "Your coffee is the best, where do you get it?"

"I make it in my kitchen at home," Kurt stepped between Xun and the filing cabinet, "I reorganised the cabinet into chronological order in two categories, ongoing and closed." He made quick work of retrieve the file that was right at the front of the stack, "There we go."

"And we're off," Xun smiled, grabbing her coffee, "damn this is some good coffee."

"It's Kopi Luwak," Kurt smiled, "Where are we off to?"

"Harry Potter's trial got moved up," Xun smiled at him, "I like you a lot better when you talk, you were a little scary when you were quiet; you were like an efficient and emotionless automaton." She tilted her head and scrunched up her nose, "My daughter's frightened of you regardless."

"Kopi Luwak," Puck mumbled to himself as they waited for an elevator going down, "why does that sound familiar?"

"Caphe cut chon," Xun supplemented as they entered a crowded elevator, Kurt was tempted to quip about how glad he was that the Minister for Magic hadn't been in the elevator but he thought better of it.

"The animal dung stuff," Puck shuddered and pulled a face.

"Oh, do shut up," Kurt rolled his eyes, "you've been drinking the stuff all summer and you haven't died." Kurt gave the man a hard pat on the back, "No need to be a baby about it."

"I will absolutely be a baby about it," Puck sulked as the elevator jerked to a stop on the lowest level. Kurt contained his inner excitement, he was right below the Department of Mysteries; a place that was literally in his dreams. Puck continued to complain and moan, "I'm totally within my rights to complain, can you imagine what it's like to slowly be fed something you don't know without your permission or consent? It's like when wives kill their husbands by putting antifreeze in their food."

"I know a spell that can make all your organs explode," Kurt smirked, "I don't need to poison you."

"That sounds like something I should look into," Xun laughed so hard she had to console herself.

They all filed into the courtroom, they were seated in the general seating area across the courtroom floor from the Wizangamot. The courtroom was set up just as it had been for the LeStrange's trial from Professor Dumbledore's memory; that was one thing Kurt would miss about his friendship with Professor Dumbledore, the man might have never given a straight answer but he always gave an answer. Kurt had been strategic about the dissolution of their 'friendship', he'd not shed light on his mistrust of the man as he knew that the feeling was mutual; Kurt had not wanted to make Professor Dumbledore aware of it as he feared that the man might better hide whatever it was that he was hiding.

Sitting in the executioner's chair was Harry Potter; Mrs Weasley had cut and combed his hair, and she had dressed him in his Sunday best. He was sitting up as straight as a pin and, had Kurt been at number twelve this morning, Kurt might have suspected it wasn't him; there was a calm air of maturity and poise about him that Kurt hadn't really paid attention to, his shoulders were also broader and he looked to be cultivating the mother of all peach fuzz moustaches. Kurt waved when the boy spotted him, he got a weak smile in response.

"Calling to order the Wizengamot trial of Harry Potter," Minister Fudge spoke from the podium directly in front of Harry's seat, Kurt crinkled his nose at the theatrics of this trial; calling for a full Wizengamot and the Minister for Magic presiding over the trial were an extreme measure for any case, let alone one for underage use of magic. The man looked down at Harry over his spectacles, "Mr Potter stands accused of breaking the Statute for the Restriction of Under Aged Wizardry and breeching the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," Harry's voice was louder than was necessary.

"Council for the Defence," A booming voice cut through the courtroom, "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"Ah, Professor Dumbledore," Minister Fudge flashed a false smile, "You received our notice about the change of time and venue."

"No," Professor Dumbledore kept a stony face, "I just really like it here so I show up really early and strut into all the courtrooms announcing my presence."

"Ah," the Minister for Magic fumbled his notes, "Mr Potter, did you with full knowledge of the restriction of under aged wizardry cast a Patronus charm?"

"Yes," Harry looked straight ahead and answered decisively.

"And did you knowingly perform magic in front of a muggle?" Minister Fudge shook his head as he spoke, Kurt wasn't entertained by the theatrics and neither were the members of the Wizengamot, "A direct violation of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy."

"Yes," Harry nodded as he spoke.

"There you have it ladies and gentleman of the Wizengamot," The Minister for Magic grinned, "an admission of guilt. The prosecution rests."

"The defence would like to call their first witness to the stand," Professor Dumbledore spoke while the Minister was celebrating his victory, "Mr Harry Potter." The one-man celebration instantly ended and the man's face fell, "Mr Potter, please tell the courtroom of the events that led up to your use of magic."

"My cousin, Dudley, and I were hiding in an underpass waiting for the rain to pass when we were ambushed by two dementors," Harry spoke slowly and clearly, "the dementors attacked the both of us and the one that had Dudley was moving in for a kiss, I had to cast that spell to prevent him from losing his soul. I wanted to save his life."

"Very clever boy," Minister Fudge's tone was rich in condescension, "but muggles can't see dementors."

"Our investigation has brought to light the possibility that there were dementors present at the scene," Xun spoke from her seat, "the damage to the vegetation near the scene was consistent with that which is found near dementors. We are also aware that the replication of such evidence is beyond the magical knowledge of Mr Harry Potter."

Minister Fudge scanned the room, "Who said that?"

"I did," Xun stood and raised her hand.

"And who are you?" the minister snapped.

Xun looked around in confusion, "Hau Xun, Head of the Auror Office Investigative Branch."

"Yes," the man nodded, "thank you Mrs Xun."

"Ms Hau," Xun corrected.

"The defence has a second witness to testify," Professor Dumbledore smirked.

"There were no wizards in the immediate area," Minister Fudge protested.

"Our witness is not a wizard but rather a squib," Professor Dumbledore had his features schooled once more. Kurt cringed, he wasn't fond of that term; it never sat well with him. An elderly woman approached the seat that was currently filled by Harry Potter, who got up and moved to sit at the end of the bench Kurt was sitting on, "The defence calls Arabella Figg."

Minister Fudge furrowed his brow, "Can squibs see dementors?"

"We most certainly can," Arabella Figg snapped.

A middle aged woman sitting to the Minister's immediate right spoke, "The Ministry recognises benign magical abilities in squibs, including their ability to recognise magical anomalies that other non-magical individuals otherwise fail to recognise."

"Thank you Madam Bones," the minister relented, Kurt wondered if she was related to Susan Bones but dismissed the thought for another day, "Please continue."

"Mrs Figg," Professor Dumbledore spoke more gently to the elderly woman, "please describe the events you witnessed."

"I saw two boys, one was large and the other quite skinny," the woman was very soft spoken and Kurt had to strain to hear her, "they were approached by very large, tall, hooded creatures. All at once the temperature dropped and it seemed like all the happiness had gone from the world."

"That's lovely," Minister Fudge chuckled, "but Dementors don't just wonder into a muggle suburb and happen upon a young wizard; the odds are astronomical."

"I don't think this was a mistake," Professor Dumbledore's tone was matter of fact, Kurt stared daggers at the man who was putting Harry at risk so he could push his own agenda.

"I'm sorry," a toadish woman with a bright pink brooch on her black robes spoke from within the Wizengamot, "Dementors are under the control of the ministry; to insinuate that this alleged event wasn't a terrible coincidence, is to insinuate that it is the doing of the Ministry. Do I misunderstand you?"

"I hope that I am wrong Madam Under-Secretary," Professor Dumbledore paused and Kurt whooped he wouldn't continue but one of them was obviously wrong, "There is however another who might have orchestrated this attack on young Mr Potter."

Professor Dumbledore approached the podium and spoke in a whisper, the Minister for Magic snapped back, "He is not back."

"The defence rests," Professor Dumbledore turned away from the minister as if nothing had happened.

"I have a few questions," Kurt got to his feet, "yes or no questions, they'll take next to no time."

"Mr Hummel," the tone was intended to reprimand him, "You are neither council nor Wizengamot member."

"I'm aware," Kurt smiled, "Rule thirty-four, article twenty-three, subsection twelve permits members of the gallery to ask three questions each after both the prosecution and the defence have rested but before deliberation begins. I'm within my window."

"Very well," the man let out a tired sigh.

"Mr Potter," Kurt gave Harry a pointed look, "Do you think it is fair that you are being charged with breeching the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy for performing magic in the presence of a muggle who was already aware of the existence of magic?"

Harry's eyes grew wide behind his spectacles, he shook his head, "No."

"Do you think that it's fair that the Ministry is charging you for breaking the Statute for the Restriction of Under-Aged Wizardry when they have set an unfair precedence by excusing a number of young wizards for breaking the statute in extenuating circumstances?" Kurt grinned, "for example; Hermione Granger during the riots at last year's Quidditch World Cup final."

"No," Kurt nodded once more.

"One final question," Kurt's smile fell, "Is it true that if you hadn't cast that Patronus, you would have been risking both yours and your cousin's souls, both your lives, your livelihood, your home and your relationship with your aunt and uncle who are not fond of magic?"

"Yes," Harry narrowed his gaze at him.

"Thank you for your candour," Kurt pursed his lips, "nothing further."

"Is the Wizengamot ready to vote," Madam Bones inquired, she received an affirmative response. Percy rose from wherever he'd been sitting, "All in favour of conviction." A number of hands went up, noteworthy were the Minister and Under-Secretary's, "All in favour of acquittal on all charges." There were significantly more hands, Percy nodded even though it really wasn't necessary, "The acquittals wins, you are free to go Mr Potter."

Kurt clapped his hands excitedly, Puck punched him playfully, "You're awful chipper, what? is he your boyfriend?"

Kurt pursed his lips, "Is that your way of asking me if I'm single?"

~0~

"Kurt," Mrs Weasley gave him a tight lipped smile as she opened the door, "How lovely to see you again."

"Thank you for inviting me," Kurt smiled back, "how have you been?"

"I've been better," Mrs Weasley shrugged as she led him to the Kitchen in the basement, "but I did receive good news to offset the bad. Can you imagine it? Ron, a prefect."

"Not even in my wildest dreams," Kurt's eyes were wide when they entered the crowded kitchen.

"Both he and Hermione were selected," she beamed, "Harry is a bit sad but there could only be two."

"I'm sure he'll get over it," Kurt shrugged.

"Kurt," Ron came over and excitedly flashed the crimson badge with letter 'P' printed in white old English script, "I'm a prefect."

"Your mother told me," Kurt chuckled, "I'm shocked."

"What do you mean?" Ron furrowed his brow.

"Can you name one school rule?" Kurt tilted his head as he took a seat at the kitchen table with everyone else; exchanging hushed greetings with those who were present, this being the Weasleys with the addition of Harry and Hermione.

"I can too," the boy scrunched up his face in deep thought, "Never tickle a sleeping dragon."

"Strictly speaking, seeing as dragon breeding is illegal in the United Kingdom I doubt the school rules made a provision for such an occurrence," somebody at the other end of the table countered.

Kurt peered around the heads that separated him and the person that spoke, he was unsurprised by who he saw, "Hipster Weasley, I'm impressed. You can quote me perfectly; imitation is the best form of flattery."

"Did you make prefect?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Of course," Kurt turned back to him and smiled, "If I hadn't made Prefect I would have sued. I'm sorry you didn't."

"At least Draco's also disappointed," Harry's tone was dejected.

"Not necessarily," Kurt said before he could help himself. Harry looked at him expectantly, "Well, the rules don't explicitly state that the two selected Prefects have to be of opposite genders; both Draco and I could be prefects but my money's on Tracey Davis. Houses just select opposite gender pairs to improve their odds of having a head prefect. The four-one-one is that Angelina Johnson made Head Girl; I heard from Terry, who heard from Anthony, whose mother is friends with Mrs Johnson."

"That's what he does," Harry shook his head, "I don't know how he does it but Kurt will call on some obscure rule and information no normal person knows, swoop in and save the day. That's what he did at my trial, aired all my business in the process."

"Harry," Kurt stared the daggers at the young man sitting across from him, "If you have something to say to me then please tell it to me straight, I currently don't have the patience for passive aggressive character assassinations. I did what I did in your best interest unlike Professor Dumbledore who used it as an opportunity to meet with the Minister for Magic because the man hasn't been taking his meetings all summer."

"Who is he?"

"I beg your pardon," Kurt raised a brow to warn Harry that he was treading on dangerous ground.

"The boy you were talking to when I came over to speak to you after my trial," Harry snapped, "Cedric died-"

"Firstly, you just said it; Cedric died, not me," there was a chorus of gasps, "I'm not his widow, I don't have to honour any period of mourning and I will not spend the rest of my life married to his ghost just because the idea of me moving on makes people uncomfortable. Secondly, Noah Puckerman is not a boy, he is five years my senior and my colleague. Thirdly," Kurt's breath caught, "You of all people understand that I won't soon forget the how and why of Cedric's death but I refuse to let his death govern how I live my life."

Harry didn't speak, he and Kurt stared at each other in their little Mexican standoff of sorts. The kitchen was silent as their observers were constricted by the awkward moment that Kurt and Harry had created; the first human voice after his own was in his ear, "Let's go have a cigarette and calm down."

Hermione- who had moved from her seat beside Harry, around the table to Kurt's side- pulled him by the hand, up the stairs and past the first floor. Once they were out on the balcony, they stood facing each other in silence, "I have to apologise to everyone for creating an awkward moment."

"No," Hermione shook her head, "fuck them if they don't naturally understand."

"Good," Kurt put a cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply, "I understand what it means to Harry, when we gave him my memory we also gave him my emotional response and he isn't letting it go so that he can move on. He didn't take the parts he needed and discard the rest like I did."

"So when you say Noah Puckerman is five years your senior," Hermione grinned, "what does that mean? Is he too old for you?"

"Of course not," Kurt gasped, "I like men who are mature and distinguished, see my last relationship. If five years is outside of my dating pool that makes for a very shallow dating pool."

"Mature and distinguished," Hermione scrunched up her face, "that sounds like you're describing wine, do you also like them with an aroma of orange peel."

"Now that I'm newly single," Kurt smiled, "I can discover whether I like my men with the aroma of orange peel or if I prefer a more summer-y fragrance."

"I-" Hermione went silent and thought for a moment, "how are you so okay? You loved Cedric so much and you've dealt with his death so much better than I have, and I only knew him through you."

"I meant what I said in there," Kurt took a long drag of his cigarette, "I might have sounded like an angry cold bitch and people might think Cedric deserves better but I stand by it; Cedric died, not me. I mourned his death so hard and now I've let him go." Kurt took another drag of his cigarette, "his story in this plane of existence has ended, mine continues."

~0~

Kurt walked cautiously up the walkway toward the country manor, he came to a stop on the doorstep with his palms sweating from nerves. It had taken him quite some time to track down any family he might want to meet; he'd thought for a moment to speak to Narcissa Malfoy but he thought whomever had raised Draco wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be on speaking terms with, Sirius had told him that Bellatrix and her sister, Andromeda, hadn't been on speaking terms for twenty years which he knew made for neither a good spring board for a relationship nor a basis for interrogation. Kurt wanted to know more about the monsters that had borne him and this was where the trail had led him, Bellatrix LeStrange's childhood home.

Kurt took a deep steadying breath, he looked up at the imposing manor and gave the door three sharp wraps, his heart was pounding and he regretted the entire trip but he knew he couldn't turn back now; he had come too far to turn back now. The door was answered by an extremely beautiful woman with heavy lidded eyes, a straight upturned nose that matched his own and elegantly quaffed, side swept white hair. She looked exactly as Kurt remembered her from the Quidditch World cup finale.

"Hello," she pursed her lips to punctuate her sentence as her voice didn't give any tells, ever deep and level, "Good, you're on time"

Kurt eyed the elegantly dressed woman with curious eyes, her mannerisms matched his so well, "Good morning, I'm grateful for the time you've taken out to see me."

"Nonsense," she shook her head dismissively, "I've been meaning to invite you for tea for a while now but I've lacked the means, Draco doesn't know where you live so I couldn't send an owl. Receiving your owl saved me the trouble."

"You have a lovely home," Kurt smiled as he looked at the opulence of the country manor from another period.

"Thank you," She did not smile or give any indication that she was glad to hear his words, "the house has been in the family for generations. I suppose now it will be yours someday."

"Mine?" Kurt shook his head, "my reasons to meet have nothing to do with whatever family wealth you might possess."

"Don't be absurd, I know you're not here for the fortune," she chuckled, "you're the eldest child of the eldest child, if it weren't for Bellatrix's condition then it would pass to her at my death but it will by-pass her and go straight to you." She stared intensely at him, "Azimuth, put on a fresh pot of tea."

"Yes mistress," a house elf in a French maid's outfit, who materialise beside Druella Black at the sound of her name, bowed before disappearing.

"I'm sorry," Kurt furrowed his brow, "Bellatrix's condition?"

"Her incarceration," the elegant lady twitched at the last word.

"Oh," Kurt nodded, glad that there wasn't any medical condition he had to be afraid of, "I see."

"I have to call Jadis," she gestured for him to remain in his seat as she strode over to the fire place, "she's running late and she might be dead at her age, one can only hope."

"Who's Jadis?" Kurt raised a quizzical brow as he took in his surroundings, waiting to be engaged once more.

"Jadis is your other grandmother," she threw some floo powder into the fire place and green flames grew to fill the opening, "she's Rudolphus's mother and my lifelong best friend."

Kurt watched as the woman leaned toward the fireplace and the head of another beautiful witch appeared, she too had short hair but hers was still blond, worn shorter and more simplistically in a pixie cut.

"Druella, I see you're still alive," this woman spoke melodically and expressively like Kurt often did, her manner caused Kurt great surprise as she'd spoken words that didn't match her cheery disposition, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Come over, I've got a pot of tea brewing and somebody for you to meet," Druella's words sounded more like a command than a request but her friend smiled, "I told you yesterday that we had a lunch date, are you so old that you've forgotten already?" Before Druella had made it to the two-seater opposite from Kurt the second woman had appeared with a faint pop that Kurt had come to synonymise with apparation, "Good, you're here."

"Who is it that was so important that I had to come over immediately?" the woman floated over to where the two of them were sitting.

"This is my grandson," Druella gestured to Kurt with neither disdain nor esteem.

"That's not Draco," the second woman's eyes grew wide and she turned to her friend with a disapproving gaze, "you didn't!"

"No, of course not," she merely pursed her lips, "this is your grandson as well."

"No," she shook her head, "that would mean."

"Jadis Rowle LeStrange," Kurt thought for a moment he saw the hint of a smile on Druella's face, "Meet- heavens me, I haven't even asked the boy his name in my excitement."

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," Kurt extended his hand to the woman but she pulled him into a tight hug instead, she smelled like lavender.

"That won't do for a descendant of The Noble and Most Ancient House Black," Druella tapped her index finger on her chin as she thought with pursed lips, "Lupus, yes of course; it's a constellation, the wolf like your father."

"Lupus?" Kurt raised a brow, "like the disease?"

Jadis shook her head rigorously, "it doesn't sound right, LeStrange men have names beginning with the letter 'R'."

"It's fine," Kurt raised a dismissive hand, "I already have a name and I actually have some difficulty with the letter 'R'."

"Rigel Cygnus LeStrange," Druella suggested, "does that sound better to you? Rigel is the brightest star in Orion and Cygnus like his grandfather."

"Rigel," Jadis smiled brightly, "my baby's baby."

"I've always wanted another grandchild," Druella pursed her lips with what Kurt guessed was glee, "I'm not really fond of the one I have."

"How did we not know?" Jadis asked her friend as she fell into the seat beside her, "why weren't we told?"

"Kurt was about to tell us the story," Druella lazily ushered for him to continue, "I'm sure he'll tell it better than the hysterical house elf I heard it from."

"I heard this story from a third party," Kurt took a deep breath and recalled the story as Barty Crouch Jnr had told it, "Bellatrix didn't know she was pregnant until they were attacking the home of Argyris Mopsus."

"The famed blood traitorous seer," Jadis nodded, "I remember the day, we'd had lunch together."

"Whilst they were torturing him he reached out, clasped her stomach and said 'that which most shames you festers inside you." Kurt paused for dramatic effect, "she took a pregnancy test and it confirmed part of what he'd said, from what I've heard she believed that he meant I was going to be a squib and decided to hide her pregnancy with the fidelius charm, using the witnesses and Narcissa as secret keepers. When I was born they made the unbreakable vow never to speak of it to or in the presence of anyone outside that room."

"The seer only saw that she was pregnant and embellished to spite them," Druella showed real emotion for the first time and it was anger, "he besmirched both the House of Black and the LeStrange family."

"Narcissa ordered Kreacher to get rid of me, but House Elves cannot harm a witch or a wizard," Kurt knew that his story was winding down, "he instead placed me with muggles near his place of work."

"With muggles?" Jadis gasped as they were served tea.

"I'm not Rigel Cygnus LeStrange," Kurt shook his head, "I might have been if the circumstances had been different but they weren't. I'm Kurt Elizabeth Hummel; I have muggle parents, a brother who is muggleborn and the only pureblood friends I have are considered blood traitors in your circles. I'm not what you'd expect, I fight against the enslavement of house-elves; I don't sit in the high horse I've been afforded by society. I doubt we'll ever really get along or have any kind of relationship because of it."

"Why did you come here?" Druella asked him, not looking him in the eye.

Kurt looked down into his lap, "I foolishly believed that I could learn something about myself but I'm looking externally for something I need to find inside." Kurt put down his cup, shaking his head, "I apologise, I shouldn't have come. I apologise for wasting your time."

Kurt got to his feet but Jadis shot him a stern look, "Sit down." Druella raised a brow, "I don't have grandchildren, my family will be extinct when my boys die; I can't afford to be throwing any kind of family away, I have nobody left."

"He associates with blood traitors and mudbloods," Druella scoffed.

"Could you refrain from the use of prejudicial terms," Kurt snapped, "I was a muggleborn a year ago and I'm, by some definitions, a blood traitor now; I'm a little sensitive to the name calling."

"Please Rigel," Jadis spoke, a forced smile on her face, "take a seat. Let's remove the politics from our tone's and conversation, please tell us about yourself."

"Please call me Kurt," he gave a small smile; they each nodded, grudgingly on Druella's part. Kurt thought of what he could tell them without making them too angry, "I'm doing my fifth year at Hogwarts this year, I'm in Slytherin- I'm the house prefect."

"You're just like your mother at your age," Druella smiled, "I remember when she was in fifth year, she was ever so excited to be a prefect. She got ten Outstanding grade OWLs and one Exceeds Expectations."

"I'm top of my year- well, my best friend and I sort of share the title," Kurt refused to be ashamed of his friends, he'd refrain from mentioning them by name but he would not deny them, "I'm set to write fourteen OWLs."

"Fourteen?" Druella raised a brow.

"During the Triwizard Tournament last year we were offered two additional subjects, Civics and Dark Arts," Kurt explained, "We've been given the option to continue to OWL level."

"Do you play Quidditch?" Jadis sked, she was practically on the edge of her seat, "both of your parents played for Slytherin, making captain in their respective years of seniority."

Kurt shook his head with a small chuckle, "I technically don't fly, I find it to be impractical as a mode of transport in a world with cars, supersonic flight and the Floo."

"Seems to me like somebody's a little light in their loafers," Druella gave a small smile, "Other than being a know it all, bleeding heart- what do you do?"

"I'm a Master of Order of the White Lotus," Kurt shrugged, he realised that saving Hogwarts from annual attacks wasn't really an extracurricular, "I'm currently interning in the Auror offices. I'm vice-president of the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare. I used to co-head the Duelling club."

"That's quite interesting," the snow haired woman didn't seem the least bit impressed, Kurt wasn't used to being anything less than impressive.

"You're awfully intelligent, you must have taken after your mother," his blond haired grandmother smiled broadly, "your father was always more of a doer than a learner. You remind me of my childhood friend, Clive Lewis, he turned out to be a squib which was quite the disappointment for his parents."

"Was he also a raging homosexual?" Druella gave a small giggle.

"I'm not ashamed of that," Kurt snapped.

Druella shrugged, "You shouldn't be, we're not savage muggles. I simply wanted conformation that it wasn't just House Black that was going extinct, the LeStrange's only heir won't be having any children- not in the traditional sense at least."

Jadis paled, "you're right." She seemed to clutch herself in consolation, "No great-grandchildren."

"You do know that this is the twentieth Century," Kurt chuckled, "there are countless ways for people to have children without engaging in heterosexual sex, the only reason I won't be having children is because I hate children."

"And you think I like children?" Druella snapped, "I didn't have children because I like children, I didn't have children because I wanted children, I had children because it was expected of me." She laughed, "Cygnus was very disappointed that I never bore him sons, he wanted to keep trying and I told him I wasn't a baby maker; it killed him… or did I kill him? It gets fuzzy near the end."

Kurt nodded slowly, it was frightening how similar to him and Hermione the pair were; Jadis had that youthful optimism that Kurt had tried so hard to crush in Hermione; Druella was the cold, not quite there, pretty one. Kurt's mind finally caught up with itself, "I'm sorry but can we rewind, did you say Clive Lewis? Like C.S Lewis? As in the Author of The Chronicles of Narnia?"

"I suppose," Jadis shrugged casually, "I'm not sure what he did with his life."

"He wrote a series of epic fantasy novels for children," Kurt chortled loudly, "he based the villain in the first and last books on you." Kurt couldn't control his laughter, "Or at least he named her after you; Queen Jadis, the White Witch."

"I've never heard of such a thing," she shook her head.

"You're one of the most hated literary villains," Kurt recovered from his laughing fit, "Please tell me you were friends with L. Frank Baum." Kurt caught himself, "No, you're not nearly old enough."

"Madam," the spiffily dressed house elf interjected, "Lunch is served in the formal dining room."

"That will be all Azimuth," she dismissed the house elf with what Kurt assumed to be the closest a pureblood wizard supremacist could come to saying thank you to a house elf, it was still better than how Sirius treated Kreacher.

Kurt was escorted into a dining room that was even more ornate than his own home's all white décor. As Kurt took his seat- as instructed- at the head of the table, his eye caught on the portrait of an aged man with greying sandy hair, a full grey beard and piercing blue eyes. He was dressed like a highly decorated redcoat and sitting at a vintage secretary; he looked like he had been handsome in his youth but this man looked to be past his prime. Kurt turned to Druella, "might I ask who that is?"

She looked lazily up at the portrait, "That's Haim Black, the patriarch of the only extant line of the House Black."

"He lived a thousand years ago," Jadis spoke as if she'd been told this story a hundred times, "Was a close personal friend of Salazar Slytherin."

"It was Rowena Ravenclaw he was best acquainted of the founders, he only knew Slytherin through her," Kurt heard himself correcting without knowing exactly how he knew such a thing or where he might have read it.

Hope you liked it.