Hello, here is an update for you! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you are my joy! Thanks to my beta, lil'hawkeye3, that goes out of her way to read this! To everyone who mentioned how complicated the Black Family Tree seems to be, I decided to post here the partly-canon family tree I created, and no , it is of no relevance to the story.
THE HOUSE OF BLACK
Lord Licorus (1808-1872) married to Magenta (1808-1908), parents of:
(1826-1926) married to Jimbo Blishwick (1820)
Cygnus (1829-1851) married to Ella (1830-1853), parents of:
2. Sirius (1845-1853), never married, poisoned by his father
2. Phineas Nigellus (1847-1925) married to Ursula (1853-1920), parents of:
2.2.1. Lord Cygnus (1874) married to Violetta (1880), parents of:
. Lord Pollux (1906) married to Irma (1909), parents of:
.1. Lady Walburga (1925), fiancée of her second-cousin, Lord Orion Black (1927)
.2. Alphard (1928), no marriage contract
.3. Cygnus (1931), fiancée of Druella Rosier (1931)
. Cassiopeia (1915), no marriage contract, less than powerful
. Marius (1917), disowned for being a squib
. Dorea (1927), no marriage contract
2.2.2. Sirius (1877) married to Hesper (1875), parents of:
. Arcturus (1902) married to Melania (1905), parents of:
.1. Lucretia (1925), fiancée of Ignatius Prewett (1921)
. Orion (1927), fiancée of his second-cousin, Walburga Black (1925)
. Lycoris (1904), no marriage contract, mentaly insane
. Regulus (1906), no marriage contract
2.2.3. Arcturus (1884) married to Lysandra (1890), parents of:
Callidora (1925), fiancée of Harfang Longbottom (1926)
. Cedrella (1925), fiancée of Caesarus Malfoy (1913)
. Charis (1926), fiancée of her second-step-nephew, Caspar Crouch (1924)
2.2.4. Belvina (1898) married to Herbet Burke (1870), parents of
. Step-daughter: Elfrida Burke (1905) married to Edgar Crouch (1895), parents of:
.1. Caspar Crouch (1924), fiancée of his second-step-aunt, Charis Black (1926)
. Attila Burke (1916), no marriage contract
. Ferbus Burke (1922), no marriage contract
. Laelia Burke (1924), no marriage contract
2.2.5. Phineas (1880), disowned for supporting muggle-rights
2.3. Elladora (1850-1931), never married, began the tradition of beheading house-elves
2.4. Iola (1853), disowned for marrying a muggle, born days before her mother's death
(1835-1893)
Phoebe (1810-1882), a methamorphmagus, never married, had children out of wedlock:
1. Elara Black (1827-1893), fathered by Radolphus Lestrange (1805-1910) married to Gordon Greengrass (1815-1850), killed by his wife, Alistair Smith (1830-1854), killed by his wife, and Seneca Shaqif (1800-1907), killer of his wife
1.1. Gideon Greengrass (1849-1939) married to Apollina (1848-1868), parents of:
1.1.1. Apolo (1868) married to Laurelia (1875-1908), parents of:
. Gregorian (1899-1904)
. Ambrosia (1908), married to Reimond Lestrange (1907), parents of:
.1. Ragnar Lestrange (1926), no marriage contract
1.1.2. Artemisia (1868) married to Damocles Ollivander (1873)
.1. Sirona Ollivander (1896) married to Albert Cornfoot (1898), parents of:
.1.1. Ernest Cornfoot (1918), no marriage contract
.1.2. Sophie Cornfoot (1924), no marriage contract
.1.3. Robert Cornfoot (1927), no marriage contract
1.2. Portia Smith (1853-1873) married to her cousin Archibald Smith (1855), parents of:
1.2. Smith (1873), no marriage contract
1.3. Phobus Shaqif (1856), never married
1.4. Titania Shaqif (1858), never married
2. Callisto Black (1832-1854), fathered by Orion Black (1785-1885), her granduncle, killed by her son with Amarillo Lestoat
1.1. Callum Black (1845-1854), fathered by Amarillo Lestoat, half-vampire, killed his mother and himself
3. Oberon Black (1838-1874), fathered by Lord Septimus Malfoy (1770-1885), married to Morrigan Nott (1818-1880), killed by his wife, parents of:
1.1. Blasius Black (1853), married to Isolde Gregory (1860-1937), parents of:
1.1.1. Odine Black (1880-1900), never married, committed suicide
1.1.2. Regulus Black (1890), partner of Gaius Rosier (1894), parents of:
. Lyra Black (1917)
1.2. Morgana Black (1858-1874), killed by her mother
4. Calypso Black (1845), fathered by Amarillo Lestoat (1776-1977), half-vampire
Eduardus Limette (1815-1931), disowned for supporting muggle-rights
Hesper (1817-1847), a insane necromancer, killed in the middle of a ritual
Alexia Walkin (1820-1860) married to Percival Carrow (1800-1893), parents of:
1. Hyppolita (1856-1903) married to Domitus Malfoy (1854-1930), parents of:
1.1. Livius (1880-1914) married to Aspasia Prewett (1887-1914), parents of:
1.1.1. Tacita (1903), married to Virginia Selwyn (1904)
1.1.2. Octavius (1905) married to Alexia (1907), parents of:
. Abraxas (1927), no marriage contract
. Cressida (1930-1935)
1.1.3. Caesarus (1913), fiancée of Cedrella (1925)
1.2. Porcius (1883) married to Hydrangea Parkinson (1880-1898) and to Elizabeth Flint (1886-1910), parents of:
1.2.1. Hortensia (1898-1898), daughter of Hydrangea
1.2.2. Horatia (1898), daughter of Hydrangea, married to Blasius Rosier (1880), parents of:
. Hyperion (1914) married to Theodora Prince (1912), parents of:
.1. Druella (1931)
1.2.3. Aurelia (1908), daughter of Elizabeth, married to Albus Gagwilde (1908), parents of:
. Alba (1924-1924)
. Brianna (1927)
. Dorian (1932-1932)
2. Epona (1860-1896) married to Amycus Yaxley (1862), parents of:
2.1. Lysandra (1890) married to Arcturus (1884), parents of:
2.1.1 Callidora (1925), fiancée of Harfang Longbottom (1926)
2.1.2. Cedrella (1925), fiancée of Caesarus Malfoy (1913)
2.1.3. Charis (1926), fiancée of her second-step-nephew, Caspar Crouch (1924)
2.2. Lycurgus (1895) married to Eleonore Macmillian (1898), parents of:
2.2.1. Jehanne (1920) married to Nichol Rowle (1919)
2.2.2. Cateline (1923), no marriage contract
2.2.3. Igraine (1925), no marriage contract
2.2.4. Aldith (1928), no marriage contract
"So, Ms. Donbyre, how does it feel to be so young, and carry such burden?" Miss Di inquired with false-sympathy.
Anya swore she would kill her Head of House. It was his little revenge on her, she knew- after all, since November of the past year, owls had been chasing him all around the castle, wanting an interview with her. He had finally conceded at the end of April and invited a court of reporters to her birthday celebration – a reception he had insisted on throwing. Now she knew the reason for such insistence. Horace was a vindictive man, she had to admit.
Diane Twine-Berry was a woman out-of-her-time. Literally. She should be over ninety behind all those rejuvenating potions which kept her hair a rich shade of golden and her skin fair and smooth. Regardless of the beauty she might wield, the woman had lost herself in the middle of fashion tendencies, and now she wore those knee-length robes for a younger wizard. If the short bob the witch was trying to be androgynous, it was an "out-fashioned option," according Dorea. On top of it all, "Miss Di" was how she ordered her to call her.
Anya was extremely annoyed with all the journalists surrounding her and firing question after question, yet she tried to answer all of them properly. At least, there was treacle tart.
"Miss Donbyre, what do you think of the Durmstrang Institute?" A lightly-accented voice inquired, an accent she kind of recognised as Austrian. Anya looked over the wizard with brunet curls shortly trimmed, of tall stature. She had learnt to be wary of those from her false place of origin, even though she had always felt certain attraction to their country.
"They are very entertaining characters, regardless of the unfortunate fate which has befallen upon them. I'll dearly miss some I had the honour to meet when they leave at summer, Frau…"
"Mister von Burgh. Albrecht von Burgh." The reporter answered. Anya nodded, recognising the name as belonging to a light family who could be traced back the time the Romans called them barbarians. They had combatted erklings and the Dark Hunt with ferocity; and most of their members had suffered mysterious deaths in the latest years. No surprise that the young man in front of her had decided to leave his country.
"Austria?" She questioned him.
"From Salzburg." He agreed, steering her attention to him.
"I have met one of your fellow city-man thanks Durmstrang. Dominik Meier, perhaps you know him." She declared, barely hiding her grin at finding someone to interview about her blackmail. A thing she hadn't been able to do with the two other Austrian students which had come to Hogwarts. The man shook his head, denying her assumption. "Maybe you have heard of his relative then, a woman named Liohtleben?"
"Widow Liohtleben? How have you come across the Liohtlebens?" He almost shouted in surprise.
"Are they a famous in Austria?"
"Infamous, if that is what you mean. Mister Liohtleben was killed by muggles when his son was still seven. His wife went crazy. Oh, she was a kind woman – I remember her from when I was a small child, the Liohtlebens were acquaintances of my parents." The man shuddered.
"Is that so? When that happened?" She asked, with a much more interest than she was showing. At the opposite side of the chamber, Ms. Scrimgeour laughed of something Tom had shared with her group.
"Five, six years ago, I think."
Meier was currently fourteen. If he was who she thought he was, that had to have happened seven years ago. "1933, possibily?"
The man nodded vehemently. "Ja ja, 1933. I remember now. Not long after that, indeed." Mr. Von Burgh proclaimed, a thoughtful expression taking over his features. "Now, what do you think of an interview? I have heard you will be awarded the Order of Merit at the end of the term."
Her mood went sour again, and her eyes roamed around the chamber – searching for escape route. Her eyes landed in a tall academic. "Would you excuse me, Mr. Von Burgh? I must speak with someone." She said, already leaving behind the handsome reporter.
"Dylan Marwood!" She called after the scholar, a huge smile stamped on her face as she greeted the short man who had taught her Mermish by-correspondence. He mirrored her expression with perfection.
"Nastya Donbyre! May the waters flow in your favour in this new year, dear girl."
"Thank you, Mr. Marwood." She smiled. "I would answer you in Mermish, but I have unpleased too many of my friends with shrieks – and apparently the birthday girl isn't allowed to one Bubblacalva Charm."
"Nobody comprehends the visionaries, de facto. And call me Dylan, Nastya, how many times must I tell you this?" A worried expression took over his face for a moment. "How are you feeling?"
"Annoyed with Horace for so many reporters but honoured with your presence." She answered, deflecting the real purpose of his question. She didn't want to be at that party anymore, no, she had to get away and check everything before she lost herself in her reason. The scholar seemed too understand – at least partially – her unwillingness in that subject, because he let it pass.
"Horace is a deceptive man, really. I remember him from the time we studied together, and he changed nothing. We were in the same year – him in Slytherin and me in Ravenclaw." He confessed. "I have heard you had a meeting with Lady Murcus."
"I was banned from the colony, you mean."
"I haven't heard of that. However, your Mermish was much praised. You should try to speak with Her Ladyship again, she may have already forgiven you." He hinted.
"I'll wait for a bit more. I don't fancy having Merchieftainess Murucs killing me with one of her spears. They are a colony of warriors after all."
He laughed soundly. "Don't ever approach the oceans if you think these are feral, Nastya. You may go; it won't be rude of you leaving me by now. Nobody will suspect." He winked to her and Anya smiled in thanks to him and vanished in the crowd, too eager to finish her research.
She rushed across the corridors of the dungeons, her crimson coloured robes dancing behind her running body. "Ouroboros." She whispered the password, and vanished into the female dungeons, ignoring the group of upperclassmen in the common room.
The piles of newspapers she had copied from Durmstrang Library were inside a tiny bag with undetectable extension charms in her trunk. Anya hadn't read most of them, yet she had found useful to keep them around when they related the events which had taken place in her supposed home-country over the years. Because of that, she had copied every publication the Österreichische Volks Orakle had printed since 1925.
The year of 1933. There. The Widow of the late Diethelm Liohtleben, Marika Bethany, married a muggle named Werner Meier. This had been published in the 9th of December, 1933. There was no publication of Mr. Liohtleben. Suicide? No, no. Mister von Burgh had claimed the man had been killed by muggles.
Dominik Liohtleben had been at the ceremony, overseeing his mother's marriage to the muggle. So, he was a pureblood after all. A pureblood of a light family. Things didn't match. The Liohtlebens were obviously accepting of the marriage, something proved by their presence in mass in the same wedding. Ergo, the Liohtlebens were blood-traitors. Dominik wasn't. He hated anything to do with muggles. The fact that someone raised by muggle-lovers had become a blood-supremacist could be justified by his father's murder.
Yet he had taken his stepfather's surname. Why would he do that? He could have been forced. Yet, lying about your name and identity was easy at school – she knew for herself – and he still used the name at Durmstrang.
The Liothlebens didn't live in Salzburg, however. They had always lived in Vienna. The wedding had happened in Vienna. So, why Salzburg?
"Anya?" A voice called and she turned to see Tom in the doorway. "What is that?"
"Journals. I found it fitting to have information on my home country." She explained breevely. "What are you doing here, Arawn? This is the feminine ala."
'Both of us know that Parselmouths are free to wander around in the dungeons.'
'Just because we can, it doesn't mean that we should!' Anya protested in the snake language. 'What people will think – that I lack decorum?'
'And suddenly, our roles were reversed. I had to go where, because you hastily left your birthday party, and I have gifts to give you.'
Anya stared at her partner in crime, confused. A box with a beautiful hat cello had been delivered that morning, together with new bow to her– her parent's gifts. Through the day, she had received garments, books, sweets, artworks, toys and even a beautiful set of knives from Ragnar. At the middle of the day, Tom had closed a necklace of pearls around her neck with a smile, easily ignoring the collar of Fanni she had never taken out. That had been his present, a necklace stolen somewhere. There was a time he could only steal a pearl. She felt they were that couple of American muggle thieves that had raided the country some years before – Bonnie and Clyde. She also thanked the day she had thought of buying an endless trunk, she had too many belongings now.
"Oh, I wasn't finished." He explained, and then he offered a box to her. Anya accepted it with ease, opening to reveal a mirror, a crystal ball, a tarot set and two books. "Divination. You will be taking it during your third year."
"Do I have to?" She groaned, already anticipating the answer. She had thought of that on her own, and reached the same conclusion she knew he had. Tom gazed at her, as if it was obvious – and it actually was.
"You are a seer, or at least, you could be. I think this subject has been awaiting for you since Cassandra Trelawney graduated, which means fifty years of unsuspecting students had been victim of the class so you could learn something from it. Scrying mirror, crystal ball, minor and major arcana decks. You have your astronomy material already. You can start with clairvoyance, catoptromancy, cartomancy and astrology."
"Thanks, I think." She answered, watching with some interest as Tom caught a small pouch in his robes's pockets and offered her. Anya opened it and she dropped its contents in her hand.
A tiny, dry head landed perfectly in her head. Stunned, by the expression. Anya shrieked.
'Please, Arawn, tell me you didn't just gave me a shrunken head.'
'I won't tell you nothing then.' He said, watching her with much interest. 'Just like you didn't told me about these journals. Or about Meier and you being close-acquaintances.'
'You won't take my thoughts out of this, Tom! You cannot give people dead-heads for their birthdays – it isn't sane! This was that shop-owner, Anboar, wasn't it?' She looked at him, realisation taking over her. 'Please, don't tell me you killed someone.'
'I didn't kill anyone.' He assured her, and she breathed in relief. 'I only ordered Anise to kill. She is rather good.'
Anya stared at the head, dread – too much dread to be believable. Unconsciously, she registered that Tom had stood up and was knowing saying goodbye to her – and wishing her a lot of happiness. 'Ah! You should enervate it. Its name is Lizzie. Lizzie Kneeler.'
It would take a while for Anya notice that Tom had stolen her survey on Meier before leaving.
So, what do you think? Leave reviews, I promise to try to answer all your questions!