Author's Note:
This is a continuation/soft reboot of the time travel tale "Hair of the Grim" by Nightmare Sired Muse, with a bunch of changes. It also contains many concepts, lines and situations from the grab-bag that is "Odd Ideas" by Rorschach's Blot. Both are used with the permission of their original authors. The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I do not own Harry Potter, Alice in Wonderland, Anchorman, Austin Powers, Avatar: the Last Airbender, Blackadder, The Barber of Seville, the Bible, Discworld, Dragonball Z, Evil Dead, How It Should Have Ended, Farscape, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Futurama, Game of Thrones, Inglourious Basterds, Great Expectations, Heart of Darkness, Indiana Jones, Inuyasha, Keeping Up Appearances, Lolita, The Lone Ranger, The Marriage of Figaro, Mazes and Monsters, Monkey Island, Monte Python, Naruto, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Pinky and the Brain, Pokémon, Popeye, Ranma ½, Red Dwarf, Robot Chicken, The Simpsons, Snakes on a Plane, South Park, Star Trek, Star Wars, Terminator 2, The Thousand and One Nights, Troll 2, Tomb Raider, Yes Prime Minister, White Chicks, and the works of Edgar Allen Poe, HP Lovecraft, Roald Dahl, Shakespeare, or anyone else.
Rated M for some violence, language, drug use and sexual references. Nothing explicit.
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Recommended Fanfiction of the Week: "Weary Wizard" by Yunaine.
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Chapter 12 – Bonding with Blacks
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All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
– Anna Karenina
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"What did you say?"
"And what are you doing here?"
"How did you even get in here?"
Narcissa Black, the extra girl in the Gryffindor girls' dorm room, frowned. "I told you. I have to stay here so I can be safe. My new Head of House sold my sister in a bet and he'll be after me next, I just know it! But he can't come into the Gryffindor girls dorms because Potter called dibs on the Head Girl three years ago and told Pettigrew and the rest that it's no fair sneaking in and getting a look at his woman before he does. So can I sleep with you? I have money. My aunt said Gryffindor girls will let anyone sleep with them for two knuts."
"What! No!" one of the Gryffs shrieked. "We're not –"
"Quiet!" the redhead screamed. "What do you mean, Potter called 'dibs' on me? Explain now!" If it's not one thing it's another with that pest – I'm almost afraid of finding out what he's been up to now.
"Hey, what's all this noise?" One of the Prefects came in. She looked at Head Girl and at the cluster of agitated fourthies, counted the younger girls, frowned, then counted them again. "Aren't there supposed to be five of you? Which is the extra?"
The babble of fragmentary explanations was eventually resolved into a somewhat coherent, if not at all logical, explanation. The Head Girl sighed. "I'll take care of it," shooing the Prefect away. "I'm sure you misunderstood Pettigrew, Miss Black. Come on, I'll take you to your Head of House and let him sort you out. The rest of you, be more careful when you come in through the portrait. Now we have to change the password and everyone's inconvenienced. One point from each of you."
Lily dragged the protesting fourth-year to Professor Slughorn, who was not at all inclined to listen to Narcissa's fears. At least the detention was an hour of safety. Too soon she found herself in her own room, huddled under the blanket and clutching her wand, for what little good it would do her. The wards and passwords on the Slytherin common room and girls' dorms were utterly useless if someone could waltz in and abscond with 90 percent of the Slytherin student body in a single night without leaving a trace.
Now she had no dormmates to rely on (as much as one could rely on a Slytherin). Worse, her Head of House, the devious blackguard of Black, Peter Pettigrew, had beaten the entirety of Slytherin House in open combat, before demonstrating that the dorms' protections were no barrier to him either – he'd kidnapped her, her sister and Snape, tied them to chairs in the common room like an old-time muggle villain and forced them to swear unbreakable oaths to become blood-traitors! If somebody as fearsome and dangerous as Bellatrix was no match for the vermin, what possible chance did poor Narcissa have? The girl swore she was going to spend every waking moment learning to protect herself from Lords and other dangers.
The next morning's Charms class was pointless in one sense – the summoning spell wouldn't keep her safe – but very useful in another. Professor Flitwick had promised to teach Narcissa more advanced spells if she excelled in her assigned classwork. The highly motivated young witch consequently was the first in the class to get the spell right, and was rewarded by being taught a charm to change hair colour. Her silken, black locks were the most beautiful in the family, everyone said so, but they made her too easy to spot in a crowd. Let's see how silver-blonde tresses would fare.
Transfiguration that afternoon was a waste of time. Changing a raven into a writing desk wouldn't keep The Rat away, and McGonagall wouldn't teach her any useful spells even if Narcissa promised to keep at the top of the class. It probably didn't help that she couldn't focus. How could she? The Slytherins and the Gryffindors were together for that class, and there was The Rat, smirking at her the whole time. He was pretending to practice the spell, but she thought his lips were saying "You're next" every time their eyes met.
In the common room that evening, Narcissa ignored all the rest of her homework in favour of mastering the Charms work for this week and the next three weeks. She had to be the best! Flitwick would help her protect herself from Pettigrew. All the other teachers and all the other classes were useless. Useless! Drawing a calming breath, the young, pretty, highly marketable, and justifiably worried witch then practiced the charm to change hair colour. On the very first try she got a handful on the side to turn blonde. Success! If she changed her hair colour a few times per day, Pettigrew would never catch her! Quickly Narcissa continued the rest of the way around her head. Her newly-blonde hair was a good enough disguise that the girl could slip through the corridors without being recognised.
Narcissa piled pillows underneath her blanket and then spent that night on top of her four-poster bed. She was small and slight and the rails were strong enough to hold her. It was uncomfortable, but better than the alternatives. She'd never again sleep in her own bed until that woman-selling monster was behind bars!
The next day was another Charms lesson. Professor Flitwick was impressed with both her classwork and her mastery of the hair spell. As a reward, she learned another hair spell, this one for lengthening and shortening, and mastered it by the end of class despite her fatigue. She'd certainly find a use for that! If she kept up her Charms excellence for a few more weeks, Narcissa would be safe from the monster forever!
There was only one thing to do: Narcissa had to devote every waking moment to disguising herself and hiding and keeping safe. She'd ask each of her Professors for help, and if they couldn't or wouldn't help her, she'd ignore their classes. Keeping herself safe was the only thing that was important.
Leaving lunch, she caught up with the Gryffindor girls that evening. She was still afraid of being caught while she slept, and the Gryff girls' dorm was still the best place for her. And besides, her thigh was bruised from sleeping on that wooden bar above her own bed last night. No, sweet-talking her way into the Gryff dorm was the way to go. Pettigrew wouldn't go there. She'd be safe.
"Ladies, I apologise for insulting you the other night," she lied. "One of my housemates explained the two knuts comment to me. Can I make it up to you with some fun hair styling?" The next few minutes' work left all six girls with different hair colour and length. It was, of course, mere coincidence that Narcissa's hair was now a match for what Lily had started with.
"The hair styling isn't only for fun, you know," Narcissa pointed out. "If you have, say, an evil Lord or some boy who's called dibs on you, being able to change your appearance can be very useful."
"Teach me those spells!" Lily demanded.
The girls spent the rest of the evening in the Library. Lily worked on her Herbology homework. Narcissa didn't bother. The difference between soil types was useless to her. She put the time instead into learning more charms. The prize was a size-blurring spell to make someone look larger or smaller. If The Evil Rat was looking for a small fourthie with long, black hair, he'd look right past a blonde who looked like a sixth-year. This might let her keep away from him long enough to learn more disguise spells.
But spells weren't enough. They'd never be enough by themselves. The fearful witch made her way to the Gryffindor common room by blending in with a group of older students getting in just before curfew. She then changed her apparent size and slipped into the fourth-year girls' dorm after the others were asleep. She slipped underneath one of the beds for extra security and planned to make up for the previous several nights' bad sleep. Bliss! Safe at last!
A piercing shriek woke up half the Tower the next morning. "Look! Look! You see!? He tried to get me but he missed and got Theresa! I'm next! I'm next! I have to get out of here!"
"For God's sake, calm down!" Abigail shouted as she shook the panicking Slytherin. "Theresa always gets up early and goes down to read. Get a hold of yourself!"
It didn't matter, Narcissa thought as she brought her panic under control. None of this mattered. Pettigrew was after her. He'd never give up until he'd managed to give her away. It didn't matter how well she disguised herself, he'd always find a way around it. Advanced Charms work wasn't going to save her. No, she had to look elsewhere. Potions. That was it. If she excelled in her Potions studies, she was sure Slughorn would teach her some advanced potions. Something subtle, something lethal. Just the thing to deal with vermin.
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˂:3 )~~~~ . ˂:3 )~~~~ . ˂:3 )~~~~
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The erstwhile Head of House Black's face was impassive as he stared at the wiry Deputy Headmistress who sat primly on the other side of the desk, waiting for her to break the silence. He was vaguely aware of the Headmaster droning on and on about something or other in the background, his usual sanctimonious platitudes no doubt; many words with no meaning. Orion had learned to tune him out many years ago, and instead focused his attention solely on the far more redoubtable Professor. Black had known Minerva McGonagall, then Weir, since shortly after setting foot on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. They'd disliked each other on sight and that dislike had only grown over the years. To his intense shock, a smile bloomed on the old battleaxe's face, completely ruining the normal flush of pride he felt every time he noted he slight crookedness of her nose and the memory that came with it.
"Orion." The harridan's smile grew wider. "I was wondering when we'd be graced with your presence." Even more worryingly, there wasn't so much as a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "Here to meet young Sirius and young Peter and organise alternative schooling arrangements, perhaps? You of course would have my full support."
A small portion of his mind noted the fact that Albus Dumbledore's expression made him look as if he'd just swallowed an insect. That too failed to bring Orion the normal thoughts of happiness that would come with it.
"I'm sure you'll want a bit of time alone with the dear boys," Minerva continued. "Please feel free to use my office for the meeting. Dippy!" A house elf appeared. "Please tell Lord Black and Mr. Black that their presence is required in my office."
"Yes, Perfessy Figuration," the creature squeaked.
"Albus, why don't I show our guest to my office for his meeting," Minerva stated. Orion felt as if his arm had been clamped in a steel vice. "Come along, Orion, I'm sure you remember the castle quite well but I would not dream of allowing even the chance that a guest as important as yourself getting lost and being late for such an important meeting with his Lord and his Heir."
"Yes, well ..." His mind frantically worked to think of a reason for the woman's behaviour as she dragged him through the castle. "I trust my son has been diligent in his studies." That seemed like a safe subject to bring up.
"Of course." The woman slowed down as she formulated her response. "In fact, if we were to take only practical grades into account, he and Peter are magna cum laude every subject they're enrolled in. So much so that I can't help but wonder if Hogwarts is really the best place for them."
"What?"
"I hear that there are some very good practical courses in Outer Mongolia that might better help them to realise their potential. In fact, there are a number of schools in isolated locations far from here all around the globe that you may wish to consider transferring them to. I shall be sure to send you a list after I've had a chance to consult with my colleagues. I am quite sure that they will all jump at the chance to see young Sirius and young Peter get the education they deserve somewhere else." They came to a halt in front of a large oaken door. "And here is my office. Please do not hesitate to help yourself to the contents of the top drawer."
"Yes ... thank you."
"Your charges should be here shortly," she said over her shoulder as she walked away. "I'll just see about getting you that list, shall I?"
It didn't take long for his Blacks to arrive. Needless to say, that meeting was another that did not go as he expected it to.
Orion glared down at the boys, a bit nonplussed by the fact that it seemed to have no effect on either. "Well," he barked, breaking five minutes of silence. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"
"About what, Mr Black?" Peter asked, apparently confused by the question. His half-wit progeny also looked confused.
"Do you want the list?" the man replied acerbically. To his irritation, the boy appeared to take his comment at face value, because Pettrigrew nodded happily.
"Good idea; let's start at the very beginning. It's a very good place to start."
Fine, if they wished to play this game, "Very well – from the top," he sneered. Depressingly, it seemed his presence and tone had as much effect on the boys as his glare. "Why don't we start with the little fact that the two most prominent members of the House in the next generation have chosen to shame it by allowing the Sorting Hat to place them in Gryffindor," he allowed his voice to drop to a hiss. He knew it was petty, especially after all this time, but the fact that Sirius was Sorted into Gryffindor six years ago still stuck in his craw. Even more so since his former and now-again Heir actually seemed proud of the fact.
"Shame?" Peter queried, the little bastard having the actual effrontery not to be embarrassed at being a pureblood Lord of an Ancient and Noble House who wasn't in Slytherin. "I fail to see the shame. In case you hadn't noticed, the once proud and noble Slytherin House has fallen from its once-lofty heights and become a stable of cowards and fools."
Orion was about to object and squash that insane statement like a gnat, but the upstart usurper continued on blithely. "What else would you call it when the entire population of the House, with few exceptions, decides to up and leave, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a school term no less? There are, to my mind, only two possible explanations for this shocking and singular event: (1) they left to join the Dark Lord's forces, and got lost along the way. We know they're not with the Dark Lord, else their parents would not be so desperate to find them. Really, their histrionics go well beyond whatever token public effort would be needed if they were now Death Eaters. And we know that they're still alive, from the self-updating Ministry records, Gringotts records, family tapestries, life crystals, family clocks, and other such magical items. We definitely would've heard about it if they'd shuffled off this mortal coil. Or, (2) they bravely took to their feet and beat a very brave retreat. Fleeing the war like a pack of utter cowards. So you see, unless they all eloped with each other, simultaneously," the brat mocked, "then they are either complete fools or complete poltroons."
Peter and Sirius shared an amused glance. Peter added, "Why would any well-bred individual in their right mind wish to associate with such as those? And before you say that this is merely a recent event, Slytherin House has been well-known as the House of lily-livered lackwits for more than a decade. A fact the slightest bit of research would reveal. So where's a true Slytherin to go, if they wish to remain undetected, and subtly use those around them for their own gain, without their patsies even realising, right under Dumbledore and McGonagall's noses?" He grinned evilly. "A Gryffindor could use a dark hex to eviscerate a student in the middle of the Great Hall at lunch time, and the Headmaster would still pat them on the head and exempt them from class for the rest of the day to 'assist them getting over the trauma from causing such accidental harm'!"
"Is that so?" Orion didn't believe a word of it. "And your excuse?" he demanded of his wayward sprog.
Sirius repeated the word, looking confused. "Surely you knew? I was just following Mother's advice. Back then in first year."
"Your Mother advised you to seek placement in the Lions' House?" he asked in disbelief. This conversation was not going the way he'd expected it to. He'd expected to be facing a pair of either sullen or remorseful teens. Not ... not this.
"Yup," Sirius agreed proudly. "She said Slytherin was the best place to find a proper wife, that Ravenclaw would do if I could not find one in Slytherin, that Hufflepuffs were a bunch of unimportant plodders, and that Gryffindor was full of loose slags that would do anything to anyone for two knuts."
"You asked to be placed in Gryffindor because your mother said it was filled with scarlet women?" Orion repeated dumbly.
"Are you really that surprised?" interjected Peter sarcastically. "This is Sirius we're talking about."
"I see." And he did see. He saw that he should have taken more of an interest in his children's upbringing. "Do I need to explain to you the importance of not relying on rumour to make decisions?"
"And yet you relied on the rumours that Slytherin House was not full of timorous cowards who couldn't conceive of a cunning plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on harpsicord singing 'subtle plans are here again'," the snotty Pettigrew cur pointed out.
"She was also wrong about Hufflepuff," Sirius continued, as if Peter had not spoken.
"In what way?"
"The girl with the biggest bosom at Hogwarts is always in Hufflepuff," Sirius replied. "I was gonna ask the Hat to put me there until I found out that the one in my first year was also Head Girl so she had her own suite."
One spot of bad luck averted. As bad as the shame of a disinherited firstborn son who'd been Sorted into Gryffindor was, a Hufflepuff would have been infinitely worse. Even one that hadn't been blown off the family tapestry. Moving on hastily, he accused, "You also restored to the family the childish oaf sitting beside you, as the Heir no less, and my traitorous muggle-loving niece."
"Of course I did," Peter replied glibly. "The Black family is not so large that we can afford to throw away members willy-nilly."
"And," he growled, "I'm given to understand that you've made Andromeda the proxy to the Black seat on the Wizengamot?"
"And you wish to know why? Simple: motivation. She is the one person who will work the hardest and longest to benefit the family in the halls of power. She is both bright, and owes her status as a Black to me. Consequently, she knows that only by working for the benefit of the family to the very extent of her abilities and strength, will she remain a Black. In addition, her immediate family's financial wellbeing is now entirely dependent on her pay as my proxy."
"Oh yes, a child so bright she decided to waste her affections on a useless muggleborn!" His voice dripped with disdain and contempt.
"Properly cultivating a muggleborn slave so they can more effectively carry out their duties is hardly a useless endeavour," Peter sniffed. "As you very well know, the Tonks family sold him to Andromeda as a slave for the purposes of breeding stock and for his skills as a Healer. Much cheaper having one on staff than paying good gold to go to St Mungos all the time. That darn hospital overcharges like crazy anyhow. As an added bonus, as a muggleborn, the bribes to the Ministry won't be too high if she grows tired of him or if he annoys her too much, and she decides to dispose of him."
"And these are the grounds on which you readmitted her back into the family?"
"These are the grounds. And also on the grounds that she work for the family, as my proxy."
Orion shook his head, deciding to table the matter for the time being, and get through the rest of the issues on his mental list. "Bellatrix's letters have become even more incoherent than usual," he said at last. "I could only gather from them that you have done something to her. Would you two care to elaborate?"
Peter shrugged. "I lost her."
"Exactly how can you lose a family member?"
"Well, I suppose Bellatrix wasn't so much lost as traded away," Sirius said helpfully. "And you always said a man honours his debts, Father."
"Lost her in a game of exploding snap with one of the Slytherins," Peter sighed. "I had the second best possible hand, too."
"And who had the best?"
"Severus Snape!" Sirius barked gleefully.
"That is not a pureblood name."
"Halfblood from the Prince family, but he knows more about dark magic than the DADA Professor, so Bellatrix was happy. Once she worked the shock out of her system." Peter grinned. In spite of the fallout of the Battle of Hogwarts, it was still the best bet he'd ever made. "He's also really good at Potions. The Professor says he had the potential to be a master some day."
"Oh?" Orion perked up a bit. Better than it could have been, he supposed.
"And when that happens, I'll contact him and offer to take Bellatrix back for the low low price of everything he owns and 50 percent of his lifetime earnings," Peter said happily. "Bellatrix's such a crazy bitch that Snivellus's already offered to give me everything he owns. I told him that he didn't have anything I wanted yet and that he needed to work hard to earn enough to make it worth my while."
"Watch your tongue! Don't say such things about members of the Black family!"
"Of course she's a crazy bitch," Sirius said in a matter-of-fact tone. "She was the one who single-handed kickstarted the entire Battle of Hogwarts."
"I presume you wanted to speak to us about that too?" Peter asked. "The long and short of that whole miserable affair is that Bellatrix's little BF laid waste to the Great Hall and put half the school in the Infirmary and then on punishment detail. On the upside, Sirius and I and a few of our lackeys, retainers and hangers-on were able to handily defeat the entire 'might' of Slytherin House on the field of battle," Peter continued. "Proving yet again what a hopeless bunch of feckless duffers infest the House of Snakes these days."
"BF?"
"Bitch-Fit."
"Some say that it was the shame at being defeated by such a small group of Gryffindors, and/or the difficulty of their punishment of manual labour – cleaning floors no doubt hurt their poor pampered hands and ruined their manicures – that inspired Slytherin House to bravely flee the castle," Sirius added in glee.
"We're not entirely sure whether the current generation's crop of Slytherins is more or less pathetic than the annus horribilis of 1792. You know, the time a cockatrice got loose from the Triwizard Tournament and massacred the majority of Slytherin House, who were sitting in the audience. Over 200 Slytherins couldn't deal with a single magical creature, and ended up dead as a result. I hear the Slytherin numbers didn't get back up to 1791 levels until the 1870's," Peter lectured.
Sirius mused, "The others say less; I disagree but I've agreed to table the dispute until after we have a chance to argue the issue before the Wizengamot and get an official ruling."
Orion pinched the bridge of his nose. Perhaps the muggleborn notions on the dangers of inbreeding were not quite as misguided as he had thought them to be. It was a matter he was going to have to give careful consideration. The man made a mental note to spend more time with Regulus to be sure at least one of the next generation of Blacks was being brought up right. The best way to prove the muggleborn wrong was to show them that nurture was far more important that nature. And speaking of muggleborn …
"I noticed something unusual on the family tapestry the other day," he noted, with chilling softness.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Do tell, Mr Black."
"Somebody has clearly jinxed it, else the artefact has become too old and the magic bound to it is starting to fade," Orion continued silkily. "It is clearly a mistake, otherwise one might think that the current Lord Black, no matter how much an interloper, usurper and parvenu, had actually married a muggleborn?" He could feel his rage rising again, overpowering his befuddlement.
"I sure did," the arrogant snot admitted proudly.
"Even declared his intentions right there in the Headmaster's Office in front of Dumbles, McGonagall, and the Potter family," Sirius crowed. "You should've seen the looks on Charlus and Fleamont's faces when he declared he'd snatched the Potter Heir's intended bride right out from under their noses!"
That gave Orion pause. There was nothing he liked better than rubbing salt in the wounds (and anywhere else) of those arrogant blood-traitors. At least there was a (albeit microscopic) silver lining to this whole fiasco. Struggling to retain his temper, he gritted, "And what, pray tell, possessed you to degrade the name and bloodline of the House of Black in such a humiliating manner? If you wished to destroy the House, there are quicker and less painful ways of going about it. Like crucifying every member on the Hogwarts Express' railway tracks."
"How else am I supposed to convince the muggleborn that I'm on their side?"
"You're on their side?" he demanded, flabbergasted. "Why?!"
"So far as they know, yes. And so they'll follow me of course," Pettigrew said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Noting the look of disbelief-cum-rage-cum-confusion-cum-despair-cum-more rage on the older man's face, he elaborated. "Tell me, Mr Black, are you familiar with the history of Marcus Livius Drusus ?
"A muggle no doubt?" he sneered.
"As far as I know, though he lived around two and a half millennia ago, so it was well before the Statute of Secrecy," Peter replied sardonically. "So you really have no excuse not to know about it. In brief: Marcus Livius Drusus was a member of the Roman Senate, who realised that there was an entire country full of disenfranchised Italians just chomping at the pit to be made equals to the toffs. Or, failing that, to kill all the toffs and take their belongings and social status. The rich and powerful aristocrats who controlled the Roman Senate were digging in their heels and refusing to allow these Italians any part in the government or the major institutions of society, even though they paid taxes, fought in the military, and traded with the elites, ironically ensuring the continued economic dominance of the very elites they resented."
"Most appropriate behaviour of the Senators. The uneducated rabble should never be given a taste of power, it whets their appetite, and they will continue to consume until there is nothing left."
"Be that as it may, this particular elite personage realised that this impasse had created an entire generation of excluded people, whose combined wealth, know-how and manpower significantly outmatched that of the Roman senatorial class. And anyone who could enfranchise them, or at least partially enfranchise them, would obtain their eternal loyalty and unwavering political, economic and military support. An entire country full of clients. Why, he'd be the most powerful Roman politician who'd ever lived."
Orion's eyes widened slightly. It was the only movement on his stone-still face.
"I see you understand," Peter nodded. "I will make it my mission to turn every single muggleborn in Britain, and hopefully a good chunk of the halfbloods, into my clients. I shall be the most powerful Lord Black who ever existed!" His eyes flashed, and it looked as if he were restraining a bout of maniacal laughter.
Even Sirius was staring at his friend by this point. Shakily, the patriarch got to his feet, and began to make his way out of the room.
"Oh and Mr Black," Peter called before the man could exit. He turned. "Don't forget to cancel that hit the family has put out on me, will you? I don't know what you paid those poor excuses for hitwizards in exchange, given that I've ensured you don't have the gold available for it, but consider it their severance pay. And don't forget to tell Cygnus to get Bellatrix to cease her pathetic attempts at trying to assassinate me. I don't really care if she was instructed to do so by you or Cygnus or somebody else, or if she just decided to take the initiative, but it is becoming tiresome by now. Aconite in the pumpkin juice, really? Have the Blacks been reduced to Amateur Hour now?" He shook his head in mock disappointment. "I was willing to give her some leeway, based on our understanding, Mr Black, but as you would know better than anyone, allowing persons to try to assassinate a Lord of House Black is not something any Lord Black can tolerate. Sets a bad example for the rest of the population, doesn't it? It could even inspire some fools of low intelligence to think they might have actually had a chance of succeeding, not knowing of the allowances one must make for family members. Wouldn't you agree? I would so hate to have to reduce the family to just myself, Andromeda and Sirius – not after all the trouble I've gone to to boost our numbers."
There was a long silence. Peter and Orion stared long into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to blink or show the slightest sign of weakness.
"Can we get a move on?" Sirius drawled in irritation. "I would like to get some sleep sometime tonight."
"Perhaps that would be for the best," Orion conceded. He hesitated. "I shall make the arrangements. Good evening." Peter inclined his head slightly, and Orion Black left.
Making his way back to the nearest Floo, his sole satisfaction was the thought of what Minerva's face would look like once he informed her that the two miscreants were perfectly happy where they were and under no circumstances would they leave Hogwarts (or her House) until they graduated. The very thought of what traumas they would likely inflict on the tiresome old bat in the next two years lightened his step and his heart enough to drag himself back to Grimmauld Place. He was both physically and mentally drained by the time he got home. The day had not gone remotely how he'd imagined it would when he'd set out that morning. He'd thought he was going to discipline the wayward youths. Wayward youths being an understatement: his miserable wretch of a blood-traitor eldest son, and his mysterious House-stealing crony seemed to have plotted to make it their mission in life to cause so much chaos that even a Lovegood would be impressed at the havoc they wrought. Orion had ended up learning far too much about the thief, far too much about his son, far too much about his middle niece, and that his eldest niece was indeed a crazy bitch. To make matters worse, based on her brief missive that she'd managed to slip into his pocket somehow on his way out of the castle, his youngest niece Narcissa had developed a phobia of being traded off or lost in a bad bet like Bellatrix and thus refused to go anywhere without being accompanied by a bodyguard of several Gryffindor girls. He attributed this reversal in the family fortune to several things: his inattentiveness, the fact that his wife was insane, and possibly to the fact that the family tree had been a bit too straight over the past couple of generations. What else could possibly explain why the family magics decided to jump the rails completely and transfer Lordship to a completely unrelated, no-talent nutter with a muggle-messiah-complex?
"Did you sort them out?!" Walburga demanded shrilly, the moment she noticed his presence.
It was a fine greeting, he thought to himself, and yet another piece of evidence for the case that the whole situation was all her fault.
"I did not."
The woman drew her wand and turned to the family tapestry.
"I did learn however, that the situation is partly due to your influence over Sirius," he said quickly, trying to remember if the tapestry was on a load-bearing wall.
"Why do you say that?" On the good side, her wand was no longer pointed at what, on reflection, he was sure was a load-bearing wall. On the minus, it was now pointed at the space between his eyes.
"Do you remember telling him that Gryffindor was full of loose women that would do anything to anyone for two knuts?"
"What of it?"
"Sirius apparently decided that he liked the idea of spending seven years surrounded by loose women," Orion explained. The wand was no longer pointed between his eyes.
"As expected of my son," the woman sighed. "I really should have seen that coming. And what of the black-hearted knave who stole your title and magics?"
"He lost Bellatrix to another student in a game of exploding snap."
"And Narcissa?"
"Has taken refuge in the Gryffindor girls wing to avoid a similar fate."
"Tell me about this boy who will soon be entering the family."
"He is a halfblood Prince who has the potential to become a potions master."
"Barely acceptable," she sniffed. "What else?"
"The Pettigrew cur claims to be the one who arranged for the enslavement of that worthless muggleborn Andromeda ran off with. Since he's a muggleborn it seemed the best and most legal response, and as an added bonus, the bribes to the Ministry won't be too high if she decides to dispose of him," he repeated dully.
"And he was quite right about that, I checked the rates" his wife said thoughtfully. "Such a considerate new Lord to take the family's financial situation into account. I assume that his shameful marriage to some muggleborn slattern is for a similar reason?"
"Not quite. Pettigrew apparently stole the bride-to-be of the Potter Heir as a slight to House Potter. He also claims to be of the belief that by marrying a muggleborn and maintaining friendly relations with them, he can convince them he will fight to expand their rights and power. Thus leveraging their hopes into enormous personal political power. Following the example of some ancient muggle."
Walburga looked intrigued. "This requires careful consideration," she murmured.
Genetic then, he thought with a mental sigh. He'd just have to hope the infusion of new blood from two halfbloods and two muggleborn would help dilute the madness. Andromeda and Bellatrix seemed to be on track so he just had to ensure that his sons found love outside the family tree and that, provided she was able to cure her new batch of phobias, Narcissa did the same.
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"You don't really believe in all that nundu-shite you were spoon-feeding him in there, do you?" Sirius demanded, as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course not, Padfoot; I just made up the worst, evilest, most foul reasons I could think of for what I've done and said them. So naturally, he bought it hook, line and sinker!" More like he'd channelled Nagini as best he could, and said everything that Tom Riddle would likely have said were he in a similar situation. Most of his words were pure Dark-Lord-esque oleaginous schmoozing. "And what about you? You were brilliant! All that shite about following your mother's advice! I wish I could see the look on Walburga's face when she hears about that! Did she really say all that stuff?"
"It was nothing," Sirius said modestly. "And only every other day until I got onto the Hogwarts Express for the first time."
They laughed.
"So tell me," Sirius said presently, "how did you know they'd put out a hit on you?"
"I didn't," Harry replied honestly. "But this is the Black Family we're talking about. I just asked myself, what would Bellatrix do in this situation? The answer's obvious: either kill the usurper herself or get someone else to do it. Orion, Walburga and Bella all had their shot at the hands-on approach and failed. It's only logical that the family would put a price on my head."
"Hmmm, I hate to say I agree with you, but that does sound like Black behaviour. You think they'll cancel the contract?"
"If they don't want the House of the pure to become the sole domain of halfbloods, muggleborn and blood-traitors," Harry replied grimly.
"I see," Padfoot grinned. "Merlin, you can be scary too when you want to be; a sort of nibbling, gnawing scary, but even so, are you sure you don't have any Black in you?"
They reached Gryffindor Tower and stepped into the deserted common room.
"And the story you told about that Roman bloke – was it true?"
"Sure was."
"And he tried to give rights to all the common folk?"
"Yep."
"What happened? Did he succeed and become Emperor or something?"
"He got shivved to death in his own home."
"Ah."
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Eileen Snape née Prince allowed her seldom used wand to fall into her hand. An hour. That's how long she'd been away from her house. An hour in which the few magical defences she'd dared to put up had somehow disappeared. The woman's breath caught when she noticed the state of the front door. Investigate things or run? That was the question. It was the thought of her son that settled things for her, someone after her might go after him if she made herself too hard to find. Better to end things now even if that ending was not in her favour. Severus would survive and she had not doubt the boy would be strong enough to move on. She took a deep breath and approached the door.
As Eileen got closer, her ears caught the unmistakable sound of someone attempting to scream through a gag. Still there then. She took another deep breath to calm her nerves. She held no illusions at what was likely to happen, it had been too long since she'd last used magic in an offensive manner, too long since she'd used any magic at all save for a few clandestinely cast household charms.
"I've lived the last few years as a muggle, but at least I can die a witch," she whispered to herself. With a brighter smile than had adorned her face in ages, she stepped into the house to meet her fate.
"Eileen," the last person she wanted to see greeted her with a smile. Walburga Black was standing by her kitchen table which groaned under the weight of the bound form of Tobias Snape. There wasn't a mark on the man, not that that meant much, the only reason to leave them when using magic was for the show. "I hope you don't mind, but I tortured your pet muggle a bit to pass the time."
"To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company?" she tried to keep her tone neutral.
"Do you remember my niece, Bellatrix?" Walburga asked.
"Vaguely. I believe she was born shortly before I was cast out of the family for sullying myself with a muggle," the former Prince replied.
"Our current Lord Black, working in collaboration with the Heir Sirius, set her and your son up," Walburga stated with a smile. "My husband tells me they're adorable together."
"What?" she asked dully. No threats? No curses? Not even a mild hex? Just ... just ... what?
"Bella is quite interested in dark magic, and apparently your boy is the best in school."
"I ... you're not angry about the match?"
"Why would I be, after nearly every other pureblood boy remaining in Hogwarts sent a letter to the family stating how your Severus was such a good match that they would do all in their power to keep them together. And Bella herself sent glowing letter about how he knew enough of the Dark Arts to survive the most advanced brain freezing curse she knew!"
"I see."
"It's why I came down here, to welcome you into the Black family and back into polite society."
"Thank you, Walburga."
"I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of telling your father the good news that the Black family would declare a blood feud and murder him if he didn't reinstate you as Heir to the family."
"I'll bet he was overjoyed to hear that," Eileen said dryly.
"So much that he insisted on going directly to Gringotts to make sure you had vault access restored, after I showed him how easily the family could get to him and how ineffective his wards are," Walburga said cheerfully.
The most gnarled and sour-faced house elf Eileen had ever had the misfortune to encounter popped into the room at that point in the conversation.
"Bad Prince has done as Mistress requires," the house elf reported.
"Give him the antidote and remind him that he will need another in 30 days if he does not wish to die screaming."
"Yes, mistress," the elf intoned. Its attention shifted to the bound form of her husband. "Bad muggle dares sully mistress with his filthy muggle eyes!" It spat and the spittle flew unerringly into her husband's left eye. "Bad muggle should –"
"Now, Kreacher!" Walburga growled.
"Yes, Mistress." The elf spat in her husband's other eye before disappearing with a pop.
"Now dear, I was hoping you'd be free to come to dinner tonight?" Walburga asked hopefully.
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Severus shuddered at the look on his so-called slave and self-proclaimed girlfriend's face as she regarded the unfortunate seventh-year that was the target of her ire. He wondered if this is how Siegfried ever felt being the lover of a Valkyrie. A Valkyrie who could turn into a Berserker in the flick of a stage-light. Jo ho to.
"You dare to fire a tripping hex at my Sevvie-buggins when he's coming down the steps to meet me!?" Her eyes were lit with the fires of insanity. "Tell me one reason I shouldn't break every bone in your body and feed your testicles to a rat." Her smile deepened. "Without first detaching them."
"I think he'd have an easier time responding if you hadn't shattered his lower jaw," Severus said as dryly as he could.
It could have been worse, he supposed, the older years' remaining purebloods could have turned on him for the 'crime' of sullying a pureblood maiden. As it was (he winced at the sound of Corner screaming through what little remained of his jaw) that had not happened. The older years had been nothing but supportive of his relationship with the eldest Black sister, with the exception of Corner here. One of them had even gone so far as to promise that he would do everything possible to ensure that nothing occurred that could possibly make her single again. (He had to avert his eyes at Bellatrix's response to the younger Corner brother's attempt to object to the treatment of his brother.) He'd been confused by that until after he'd gotten a chance to get to know the girl. They'd made perfect sense after that.
It had certainly hurt when Lily stopped them in the hallway to offer her congratulations and to repeatedly state that she saw him as nothing more than a friend, but he understood, he'd already spent some time in close proximity to the Slytherin seventh-year girl by that point, and Lily's reaction made perfect sense by then.
"I'm so sorry, Sevvie-bear, I didn't leave anything left for you," she threw her arms around him and gave him a wet sloppy kiss."
"Seeing you happily occupied with them made me happy," he stated truthfully. They'd given him a few precious moments in which he was not the sole focus of her attentions.
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It took Minerva McGonagall half the morning to find the Headmaster and when she did she was a bit mystified by the fact that he was not in his office, choosing instead to do his paperwork upside down from the vaulted ceiling of the Divination Tower. The scents of fuchsia and sandalwood were overpowering.
"Is there some reason you've chosen to work here today, Albus?" she asked, craning her neck cautiously to look up at him. It was never wise to ask Dumbledore too many questions, every answer held the potential to make you regret the fact that you'd asked it.
"It is sometimes nice to get out of my stuffy office to do one's work somewhere with better ventilation," the Headmaster replied cheerfully. "Fortunately for me, the Divination Professor and his assistants had to make an emergency visit to Cornwall due to unforeseen circumstances, leaving this space unoccupied. But I sense that you did not come here to ask me that."
"Yes. The fourth year Slytherin has been spending quite a bit of time with my Gryffindors," Minerva reported.
"Oh? How much time?"
"All of it. She attends classes with them, sleeps with them, eats with them, and refuses to go back to her own dormitories."
"Is she being bullied in her House?" the old man asked.
"I do not believe so." It would take a very foolish individual to even look at the girl wrong considering her family's habit of extreme solutions to minor problems.
"Is she from a traditionally Light family?" His mind tried to identify any of the students that may have 'shamed' their family by being sorted into the wrong house. He could only think of one and he was already in Gryffindor.
"Quite the opposite," McGonagall replied. "I would expect young Miss Black to want nothing to do with the House of the Lions."
"I see." The old man stared down at his Deputy for a few moments. "I fail to see the problem here, Minerva. Simply explain to young Miss Black that while having friends in other Houses is a wonderful thing, something I strongly encourage, that she must at minimum sleep and attend classes with her housemates."
"I have tried, Albus. The issue is that I am not sure which of my girls is Miss Black." She pursed her lips. "The girl has become quite proficient with glamours."
"Proficient enough to fool you!?" She now had Dumbledore's full attention.
"With the help of my Gryffindors. Yes." It was also possible the girl was a metamorphmagus, it was said the talent cropped up in the Black family from time to time.
"Remarkable." The Chief Warlock grinned in an unhinged manner. "Please inform Miss Black that I am awarding 30 points to Slytherin for impressive spell work and 30 more to your Gryffindors for showing inter-House unity."
Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose. "How does this solve my problem, Albus?"
"Problem?" The old man stroked his beard out of his eyes. "I'm afraid I don't know what problem you are referring to, Minerva."
"Never mind, Albus," the Deputy Headmistress sighed. The easy way it was then. She'd look the other way and pretend she'd always had a set of identical twins in the current batch of Gryffindor fourth-year girls. Perhaps Miss Black would even consent to pick one girl to emulate rather than rotating through the bunch.
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"Peter, will you please tell my cousin that you've no intention of selling her off like cattle to the lowest bidder?!" Sirius demanded. "She's been learning appearance-altering charms and potions at all hours of the day and night, shacking up in different girls' beds, and while normally that would be hot and I'd be all in favour, she also keeps freaking out and carrying on about how an evil rodent's trying to get her! The girls' dorms are in an uproar. It's been driving the entire Tower nuts over the past few weeks."
"Is that what all the commotion's been about?" Harry asked. "I hadn't really paid much attention to it."
Sirius stared incredulously. "You oblivious idiot! How in the name of Morgana's mangy molars do you not notice all the hullabaloo that goes on nearly every night?"
"I've been preoccupied with other things," Harry shrugged. "Besides, I've had permanent silencing charms on my bed since the first night of term. You do know you snore like an electric chainsaw, right?"
"Chainsaws aside, can you please do something about her? Reassure her somehow?" Sirius half-pleaded, half-threatened. "We Blacks aren't the sanest at the best of times, and she's right on the cusp of going over the edge. Or at least, driving me over the edge."
"What did you have in mind?"
"I don't know! You're Lord Black, you think of something!"
"I don't know Narcissa, so I've no idea what would reassure her. Even if I did think of something," Harry said in a measured tone, "how am I supposed to find her in order to deliver said reassurance? You say she's been learning all sorts of disguise spells and avoiding me like, ahem, the Plague."
"Just do something! Anything!" Sirius snarled in frustration.
"Anything eh?" Harry asked slowly.
"Yes!"
"Okay Sirius, I want you to tell me exactly what she's afraid of and why. In as much detail as you can …"
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Andromeda Tonks had decided to take a break and was just about to start making lunch when she was disturbed by a knock on the door. On the other side was a woman she'd never expected to see again in her life, not after the words exchanged at their last meeting four years ago.
"Andromeda," the old woman said calmly. "Are you going to invite me in?"
"Aunty?" Andromeda said in shock. "What are you doing here?"
"I see marrying down has made you forget your manners," Walburga Black observed. "Pity."
"What are you doing here?" Andromeda groped for her wand.
"I came to speak with you about your future with the family. If you are rude enough to keep me at the door, then I suppose I have no choice but to have that conversation here."
"I thought you made it clear last time we spoke that I had no future with the family," Andromeda retorted bitterly.
"That was until your reinstatement as a Black and appointment as the Black proxy in the Wizengamot," her aunt replied bluntly. "It appears I may have been wrong, and you do have some glimmers of pride and ambition after all."
"The new Lord Black made it a condition of my reinstatement to do his dirty work in the snake-pit of government," Andromeda replied dryly. "So you've come because you want something from me, then? Well, out with it."
"Who's at the door, Mummy?" a child's voice asked.
"Go back to your room," Andromeda ordered.
"What do we have here?" Walburga muttered as she stooped down to examine the child.
"My name is Nymphadora," the three-year old girl announced proudly.
"A wonderful name. I ..." she watched in shock as the child's hair shifted through several colours before settling on pink. "I see," Walburga said with a satisfied smile. A metamorphmagus of all things! It seems that young Andromeda's impulsiveness has been a boon to the family after all.
"What do you see?!" Andromeda demanded.
"I see that you and your muggleborn slave have produced a daughter with a powerful and rare gift," the old woman replied. "We are going to have a family dinner in two weeks' time, bring young Nymphadora."
"Is my slave – I mean husband, invited as well?" Andromeda asked cautiously.
"Of course," the old woman replied. "It's long past time for your property to meet the family of his Mistress."
"So long as Sirius comes," Andromeda agreed. She felt faint; either she'd taken a bad batch of potions or the day was shaping up to be the weirdest one she'd ever had.
"He and the current 'Lord' will both be there. They cannot, unfortunately, be excluded from such things."
"Indeed not, that would be most improper," came a new voice. "Well, don't just stand there gabbing at the front door all day," said Dorea Potter-Black, hands on hips. "We have important business to discuss. Young Andromeda and I have been coordinating our Houses' positions on the upcoming Bills for next session. You should join us, Walburga. The males have certainly left us a niffler's breakfast for the past few generations, it will take some time to sort everything out satisfactorily. At least our current Heads have seen fit to entrust the rectification of their Houses to those best suited to the task!"
So saying, she bustled her relatives into the sitting room.
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The great whoop of joy could be heard across the entire Great Hall, and probably across the entire ground floor. The students and faculty of Hogwarts paused in their breakfast and their morning owl mail as a tall, redheaded girl covered in freckles sprang to her feet and leaped over the Gryffindor table in one bound in order to hurl herself into Sirius Black.
"Wah, bluh?" he sputtered articulately, as the girl climbed into his lap and smothered his face with feather-light kisses. He was still half-asleep and had nowhere near the active brainpower to handle anything more than pants-first-then-shoes and open-mouth-then-insert-food until at least noon.
"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!"
"Congratulations, Mr Black, I see you've made another conquest," said Professor McGonagall dryly. "However, I must ask the two of you to refrain from such overt displays of affection in public. That's 25 points from Gryffindor."
The girl ignored the teacher, preferring instead to burrow into him as closely as she could.
"But Professor, I've no idea who she is! Or what's going on!"
"I'm sure," she said blandly as she strode away.
"I know my sexual magnetism is off the charts," he muttered to the Marauders, "but this is a first."
Sirius was discombobulated, but slowly began to piece things together. Like the way the unknown girl kept calling him 'Siri' or 'cousin'. Another clue was the official-y looking parchment clutched in her hands, something she must have just received from a Post owl. But the thing that clinched it was when the girl stood up and gave a formal curtsey to Wormtail and thanked him as 'Lord Black'. Then gave Sirius his own copy of the documents before trotting away happily.
Peter sat there with that stupid grin plastered all over his chubby face.
"What have you done to her?" he demanded.
"Who's 'her'?" asked Peter innocently.
"Don't play dumb – Narcissa," through clenched teeth.
"Narcissa? As in, your cousin Narcissa Black? I see no Narcissa anywhere." Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.
"What's this?" He waved the parchment around.
"You can read – or at least, that's what Prongs keeps insisting."
"Leave me out of this," said James, but he and Remus were watching with avid interest.
Slowly Sirius focused his sleep-addled brain on what looked like … no. No no no no. He looked up at his nemesis, stung to the quick by such a deep betrayal. "What have you done?" he whispered in horror.
"Took a page out of Pandora's book," Wormtail replied smarmily. "Oh don't look at me like that, Padfoot, you said to reassure her!"
"Not like this!"
"You also said you'd do anything," Wormtail pointed out in that infuriatingly smug way of his.
"I didn't mean –"
"If you didn't mean something, you should have said so," Peter interrupted. Wiping his mouth delicately with his napkin, he rose and strolled out of the Great Hall, not a care in the world. Sirius glared at the doorway, as if he could drag the boy back just by staring hard enough.
"Uh, Padfoot?" Remus ventured. "Mind sharing?"
Sirius absently tossed the papers in Remus' general direction before also leaving.
"What is it, Moony?"
"Well, this here is a letter from Lord Black to Narcissa Black explaining that Sirius has prevailed upon him to be merciful to her. Consequently, he has taken steps to ensure that nobody, not even he, can sell, bargain, bet, barter, trade her or use her as collateral."
"Thank Merlin, maybe we'll finally get some peace and quiet in the Tower at last. How'd he manage that?"
He picked up the official legal document. "Through this betrothal agreement between Narcissa Black … and Sirius Black."
James dropped his fork in shock. "But … but, they're cousins!"
Remus shrugged. "And purebloods," he said simply.
"I'm pretty sure Sirius never consented to this!"
"Doesn't matter; both parties are underage, so their guardian, Lord Black, signed on their behalf. Even though Wormy's 16 like Sirius, being a Lord makes him an emancipated minor. Hmmmm clever. Marriage can only occur after both parties have reached their majority. Either party can withdraw voluntarily from the contract after they reach their majority. Only have to pay a nominal penalty. As long as this is in force, I don't think Narcissa has to worry about being sold or given away, since she's already under a pre-existing agreement. And once she's 17 and older, you can't sell people involuntarily." Remus put down the sheets and returned to his morning plate of turkey and goblet of turkey-juice.
James shook his head despondently. It seemed like everyone having an underage marriage except him. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. He glanced at a certain redhead and sighed.
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"Thank you, Sirius."
"What?"
"Thank you for saving me from ... well, you know what." Narcissa said.
"Of course," Sirius assured the nervous girl, "You know I'd do anything for my cutest cousin." He suddenly found his arms filled with sobbing girl and he was left wondering how things had reached this point. It was awfully weird for Sirius, seeing as how he was used to her being a foot shorter than him and black-haired, instead of a foot taller than him and ginger.
It was how Lily found them 15 minutes later. In the middle of the Gryffindor common room. "So it all worked out then?" she asked with a grin.
The girl reluctantly released her saviour and forced herself to adopt a demeanour more befitting a daughter of the House Black.
"You'll let me know if you want to marry someone else, right? If you like some boy and want to be with him, I'll support you." Sirius said to his cousin. She looked conflicted. "Are you alright, Cissy? I was just asking what you wanted?"
"What?"
"I asked you what you wanted," Sirius repeated.
"I ..." Narcissa looked lost. "I don't know."
"Tell me when you figure it out then," Sirius said reasonably. "Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"
"Not at this time," Narcissa replied.
"In that case," Sirius stated firmly, "I need to go have some words with a certain rat."
Narcissa stared after him dreamily as he stormed away. "What a guy."
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Lily had an unreadable look on her face as her guest settled down on the spare bed she'd had the elves bring up. She was not usually on speaking terms with the Slytherin (heck, half the time she couldn't even tell which of the Gryffindor girls was really her in disguise) and if it weren't for the fact that Sirius had requested it (i.e., gotten down on his knees before her in the Great Hall and shamelessly begged until she felt she'd die of embarrassment), she'd have never allowed her access to the Head Girl's suite of rooms.
"Thank you for letting me stay with you," Narcissa said shyly. Sirius had told her to be polite and thank her host. "It was kind of you. I … I just … can't stay in the Slytherin dorms anymore. Not when they're this empty. And cold. And dark." She shivered. "I've gotten used to being with the Gryffindor girls," she admitted. "They're not so bad."
"That's all right," Lily said uncomfortably. "You're not alone in that regard. Every remaining Slytherin except your sister, cousin and Severus has transferred to stay in Ravenclaw Tower. I wouldn't want to be left alone there either. And Sirius did ask nicely."
"He's great, isn't he?" Narcissa agreed happily. "Right now he's making extra-triple sure that my evil Head of House can't get me."
"Is that so?" Lily asked in an uninterested tone.
"It is. Sirius said that he had things he wanted to discuss with Pettigrew, and then rushed away." Narcissa continued. "I hope he doesn't get hurt," she added with a sigh.
"He'll be fine. You know how boys are, they fight all the time; Sirius and Peter have been having scraps with each other since they were 11. Sirius will only get hurt if he isn't careful," Lily assured the girl confidently. "And then you can patch him up, good as new."
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Lily sighed as Narcissa held up yet another robe for inspection.
"Do you think Sirius would like me in these?" Narcissa asked, holding up a pair of midnight black robes.
"I'm sure he would," Lily agreed half-heartedly.
"Lily, do you think I should keep my hair long, or would Sirius like it short?" Narcissa asked.
"Sirius likes long hair," Lily replied. She'd flipped a coin surreptitiously.
"What about my skin?" Narcissa asked. "Should I tan it?"
"I should keep it the way it is if I were you," Lily said calmly. All the while trying to decide whether or not to broach the subject that continued to nag at her and just wouldn't go away. She sighed to herself. Someone had to give the girl The Talk regarding Sirius, and it seemed Fate had once again singled her out for an unwanted job. "Sirius is a stupid, immature, overgrown child," she stated abruptly. She resisted the urge to smile at the look of outrage that appeared on the fourth-year witch. "That being said, he's also my friend. Kind of. Sort of. He's … someone I've met. A friend of a friend. A fellow Gryff. And a fellow Hogwarts student, yeah. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, if this is some trick you've cooked up to hurt him, then I will find you and I will make you beg for death before I finally grant it."
Narcissa smiled widely. "We're going to be such good friends!" she squealed. "Sirius saved me from a fate worse than death. What would you do for the man that kept you from being sold or traded or gambled away like a poker chip?"
"I'm Lily," the Head Girl introduced herself. "And if you're going to hang around Gryffindor Tower permanently, then there are some things I think you should know." She smiled at the look of attentiveness the witch sported. She wasn't going to share anything sensitive of course, just enough to help her fit in.
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