In Bad Faith

by Slayer Anderson

I never pretended to know what I was doing in my last life. Why should I pretend to know anything about this one? Well, the other option is a horrific and bloody death, so...I better start learning how to be a witch. OC Self-Insert/Draco's Younger Sister. [DEAD]

4. Chapter 10-12 Rewrite

Slayer Anderson

In Bad Faith Chapter 10/11/12 Rewrite

Harry Potter Self-Insert Fanfiction

04/22/2014

Chapter Xb – Death & Taxes

Walburga Black died of heart failure.

The funeral was the following week.

It wasn't an unexpected event, but at the same time, there was no way to really prepare for what everyone knew was to happen. Walburga had been in decline for years as she became increasingly reclusive and sedentary. As much as Regulus' return had enlivened her, I think it had also been the final straw. Her younger son had, most likely, been her last great hope for the Black line. Now, she was willing to see the family headship passed to who she thought was a murderous felon rather than allow the Black family to be sullied by impure children.

Should I have said something?

Should I have convinced her that there was hope? That her older son was innocent? Maybe the crusade for justice would have lit a fire back within her. Maybe I could have changed things...

But no, I hadn't. I'd been silent as a woman followed through with her decision to accept death.

Would it have worked? Could I have changed things?

Maybe. Maybe not. I suppose it is a decision I'd have to live with.

Then there was the question of whether Walburga deserved to be granted that hope. As much as she may have cared for Regulus, Tarry, and Virgo somewhere deep down, she'd also done an incredible job of alienating her child and grandchildren. Grimmauld Place, whenever I'd visited, was an oppressive home that strangled what little happiness and enjoyment could spring forth.

I had held a person's life in my hands...and made a choice.

Maybe that was self-delusion, egotism, or my own pride drowning rational thought...maybe speaking up would have done nothing but remove my ability to pass unnoticed. I had weighed the possibility of Walburga Black's continued existence against the value of my own 'mission,' the power I could bring to bear to potentially save the wizarding world...and I had decided my own life was more important. Even if my actions would not have affected the outcome, the fact that I'd made a decision on that basis was more important.

I couldn't delude myself into thinking it wouldn't happen again.

I'd make the same decision then, too, I knew.

It was a burden I already despised.

Those thoughts spun fruitlessly in my mind as I contemplated the funeral pyre.

Wizarding traditions spanned back centuries...millennia, back to a time when dark magic and black magic were the only magics in the lands. Even back to Rome and before...wizards had burned their dead when possible...or, at least, the oldest lines did. Some of the newer families buried their lost ones, but the old families, lines which dated back to times of nightmares and darkness, which rose and fell throughout history like the waxing and waning of the moon...fire was the only true resting place for wizards and witches.

Many cultures, throughout time, have burned their dead, for many reasons.

Magic folk burned corpses to keep them from rising again.

Inferi, zombies, drowned ones, bog dead, ghouls, wandering spirits, wraiths, and more. The restless dead were a constant hazard at various points in the past and no one wanted to see a recurrence. Beyond the fears of undead, though, lay other night terrors...

A body of a relative typically had enough blood, flesh, or bone to be used in some manner of harmful ritual on the family line of the deceased. Just as the Dark Lord had resurrected himself with "bone of the father," pieces of the dead could form the basis for incredibly potent and dark curses and hexes on entire families

As the immediate family Regulus, Tarry, and Virgo were obligated by tradition to stand vigil until the full pyre burned down to ensure the complete destruction of Walburga Black's mortal remains. Although my mother, father, and brother stayed only for the primary ceremony, I volunteered to stay as well and keep the twins company.

Afterwards, I decided to go home with Virgo, Sagittarius, and...Regulus. The twins and their father were...shattered, in a way that nearly broke me as well. Narcissa had offered to help, but Regulus had gently rebuffed her. I'd come to keep his children company, deliberately avoiding mentioning comforting the father of the family. Regulus, although he looked a bit older and worn, was still a very young father, and a young man.

It wasn't pity, but I didn't want it to look like that, either.

Virgo and Tarry were...children. I think on some level, they understood that their grandmother had died, but it had yet to really sink in. They'd paid their respects, but I'd seen that Walburga was a distant figure in their lives.

Regulus had taken it much harder.

He'd lost his mother.

I ushered the twins off to bed, seeing to them in lieu of their father, who had dropped into a chair in the kitchen, listlessly staring into the distance. I sighed as I pulled Tarry's sheets up, tucking him in with a hug.

"Is Dad going to be okay?" The boy asked, his voice small.

I bit my lip...

Why me? Merlin, I'm not good at this. I'm not a people person, I don't like emotions, I'd rather just ignore this mess...but Regulus isn't in any state and there isn't anyone else, is there? No one else offered to come see to the twins, no one else cared to see if their old man was in bad enough shape to do something stupid...damn it.

"I think so," I answered eventually. "Just make sure you hug him a lot, he needs it."

"Okay," Tarry nodded, rolling over and going to sleep.

I smiled in the dark, Tarry was...not simple, exactly, but still very much a child. He wasn't a font of deep and complex thoughts, but rather a bastion of an uncomplicated world. I envied him sometimes.

"You don't need to tuck me in," Virgo said, sliding into her own bed on the other side of the room.

"I know," I nodded, deliberately not smiling.

She didn't protest as I pulled her sheets up, brushing her long brown hair out of her eyes, which I saw glistening in the dim light. Pulling my handkerchief out, I dabbed at her eyes. "Sorry, you've got a little smudge."

She sniffled.

"I didn't really like her," Virgo whispered.

I swallowed, "That's fine. Aunt Walburga was...there was something mean in her heart, something that didn't like love or happiness."

Virgo was silent a moment, absorbing what I had said. I didn't want to venture a guess as to what was going through the other girl's mind, but...neither Virgo nor Tarry liked the world of pureblood society. It was a world they didn't quite understand, because they'd spent their formative years in the muggle world. They needed to understand that there wasn't anything wrong with that fact, but...the masks they wore in pureblood company would always be just that, masks.

To a child that grew up in a rigorously pureblood household, like myself, it wasn't a mask.

At least, not entirely.

"Then why does it hurt?" Virgo asked plaintively, her voice uncharacteristically weak.

"Because...even if she was mean, and never gave you a reason to love her...she was still someone important. A member of your family. You don't have to like someone to love them," I explained, the admission taking something out of me.

"Thanks," Virgo said quietly.

"I'm family," I said, standing to leave. "Family means never having to say 'thank you.'"

The day must have worn me terribly raw and tired for something that cheesy and trite to come out of my mouth. Still, the quiet loneliness of the hallway was soothing after being forced to mingle with so many relatives offering up empty smiles and hollow comfort. It had not been pleasant, attending Aunt Walburga's funeral...I knew that it wasn't supposed to be 'fun' of course, but the entire affair had pulled up things that I'd rather have been left forgotten.

"...I'm better than this," I hissed, clenching my eyes shut.

I won't cry. I won't. It doesn't help. Crying is weakness and I can't be weak...my friends need me. Regulus needs me. I can't break down now.

Taking a deep breath, I stilled my mind and focused.

There is fury, but within, peace.

There is weakness, but within, strength.

There is wrath, but within, grace.

There is a storm, but within, stillness.

My occlumency didn't sweep aside the emotion, but they did help me focus through them. It was like stepping out of a deep fog and into a clear, bright day. I sighed deeply, my gaze long and distant as my thoughts whirled over long-past memories.

I had accepted that it was likely, almost certain, that I would never see my friends or family again. Even if I did, they wouldn't be my family. My death had been one of the most difficult realities of my new life to come to terms with, but I had had little else to do in my infantile years. Still, despite all that, whenever I though back to the world I'd once lived in...it didn't feel as though I was the one who'd died.

It felt as though the rest of my world had.

I tried to shake the ominous cloud hanging over me as I made my way down the stairs for a late cuppa, intent on using the excuse to check on Regulus, who had become something between an uncle and a cousin to me. It was difficult to pin down our exact 'relationship' when I hadtechnically accrued more life experience than he had, though he was 'older' than I was supposed to be.

I sighed and began to descend the stairs, deciding to at least soothe my parched and aching throat.
How do you know when you've gone native? When you crave tea every few hours...

Of course, what the British drank wasn't 'tea' by American standards, which I usually judged by the hallmark of iced tea, a constant staple of the 'land of cotton.' I hadn't even been a big tea drinker in the past, but...

Well, now I couldn't get enough of the stuff.

Thoughts of why exactly Wizarding Britain had developed the same cliché British obsession with tea spiraled into memories of the Empire and Indian colonization, twisting into a hypothesis that I could test by looking into the treatise on-

My brain stalled as I entered the kitchen.

Regulus, his expression despondent, was staring at a still-sealed bottle of Odgen's Finest Firewhiskey and a single shot glass.

"Lord Black," I began, respectfully. No matter how much I wished, I wasn't in a position of authority here. Regulus could drink himself into a stupor if he really wanted...my friends were still children...enough that they trusted my mature attitude and ability to control a situation. Among my peers, I was an intelligent, insightful, and socially powerful young witch.

In front of the Lord of an Ancient and Noble House, even if he was merely an 'acting' one, I was nothing more than a precocious child.

"Don't call me that," Regulus snapped, his voice bitter.

I waited for further reprimand, but none came; against my better judgment, I decided to try again.

"Though your brother is the rightful claimant," I began, "He is currently indisposed, leaving you as the Acting Lord and Heir Apparent of House Black, Lord Regulus." My tone was as empty as possible, but I was desperately trying to remind him that he needed to conduct himself as befit his station, not as a drunken lout.

Instead, his bloodshot eyes fixed me with a stare of disbelief and incredulity.

My mouth thinned as I realized how galling it probably was to listen to a child speak like this to an adult, but I continued. "Further, Mother asked me to make sure you awoke in time for the reading of Lady Walburga's last will and testament tomorrow. The goblins will not take it kindly if you are late."

His expression hadn't changed one iota.

Then, his mouth twitched.

And again.

Slowly, but surely Regulus began a descent into maddened laughter and I thanked whoever had been thoughtful enough to put up silencing charms on the twin's room. Likely, it had been Regulus himself, so that the myriad and, no doubt angry, conversations he had had with his mother would go unheard by his children. I doubt he had foreseen this particular eventuality, though.

As the insane cackling subsided, I stood rooted to my spot, eyeing the knife drawer in case the older man had unhinged himself. Given Bellatrix's madness and the possibility that Regulus had now gone insane and Sirius might be...madness may run strongly in my family.

I probably needed a therapist anyway, given everything in my life. What's a few mental issues to tag on the list?

"They-" Regulus gasped, breathless on the floor as he stared up at me with wide eyes, "They haven't told you?! Oh, Cissy, that's rich! Let the girl stay here for the night without even telling her! Oh, Cor Blimey! Do you really hate me this much, cousin?" As he asked the last, his eyes went skyward.

The silence which descended was deafening.

"...pardon?" I asked, blinking vacuously.

Regulus stared at me from where he had collapsed on the floor. "You honestly don't know?" I could tell some sense had come back to him, the question was clearly directed towards me. Regardless, though, I found the entire situation irritating and confusing. Narrowing my wide gaze, I crossed my arms and stared down the adult.

I was genuinely angry for the first time in a long time.

"Desdemona, why don't you just take the guest room for the night? I have business to attend to." Regulus sighed, glancing once again at the whiskey.

I swallowed, caught between the ingrained response of two lifetimes that compelled me to agree to a reasonable request from my elder, and the desire not to see a man drink himself into oblivion for a reason I couldn't understand. "Uncle Regulus," I decided, using the more familiar term in favor of not upsetting the man. "I'm sorry for thinking it my place to chastise your behavior, Uncle Regulus, but I would honestly like to help if the situation was properly explained to me."

Regulus gave a dark chuckle, dropping his hands from his face to give me another tired bloodshot stare. The silence hung heavy for a long moment before the wizard, still laying on the floor, shook his head.

"I suppose it says something that I'm actually considering it? Did you know that you're the closest thing I think I have to a friend? Isn't that just pathetic? That the only person I can actually talk to about anything that matters is my children's nine year old friend?" Regulus choked bitterly. "There are a dozen family heads that might lend me an ear, your father among them, who'd just love to ruin my life. Your mother would have the whole of Britain talking about it, just as soon as her mouth could yammer it, and all of the people I knew back in Hogwarts are either dead, in Azkaban, or vanished without a trace."

My heart twisted in empathy.

I knew what that position was like; to have so much that you could never tell anyone, that had to be held close and secret because there was no one who would, no one who could ever, understand. I opened my mouth, to say what I can't be sure, but Regulus chose that moment to continue.

"I mean, what would you care that my mother just died? That Virgo and Sagittarius' mother probably won't last the year out? That I've been disinherited because I won't turn my children ot on the street? That my entire life is circling the drain? You're nine years old...and you're Cissy's kid to top it all off; I don't know how she taught you to pretend to care so well, she could never pull it off, but just leave me alone...I have enough to worry about without listening to a kid less than a third of my age gloat about being the next Lady Black."

I felt my head spin and reached out for the wall in vain as I toppled gently to the floor.

I'm gonna...be...

Whut.

My mouth opened...closed...opened again...an unflattering gargle of a noise ground out of my throat.
My mind was spiraling out of control, a million thoughts flashing by in indistinct blurs as I tried to grapple with the inconceivable notion which had been presented to me. My Occlumency failed me utterly, my carefully ordered mind collapsing into a cacophonous den. Beyond rational thought for the moment, I had a vision of the world crumbling around me.

This was...insane.

Bad, very very bad.

Insanely bad, even.

A deranged giggle erupted from somewhere, a moment passing before I realized it was my own mouth. This was so fucking bad! I hadn't damaged the timeline so much, yet, but this was big! The Black family represented quite a lot of political capital that had lain dormant during the years after Walburga Black had died. If I was the rightful inheritor of the station...

Lucius, Father, would never let that kind of power languish.

Granted, I knew little enough about the Wizengamot as it currently stood, and Ministry politics in general, but what were the odds that Dumbledore's faction would defeat a law or bill by such a narrow margin that the Black vote or favor might make a difference?

If a law or statute or whatever got passed which hadn't been passed in the original timeline...

Agh! Why me?! Why do you give a nine year old this kind of political power!?

My twitching gaze flowed upwards from where Regulus lay on the floor to the table and the object which rested on it. I was filled with the absurd compulsion to reach out and take a long pull from the potent alcohol. The idea lingered for a long moment before I dismissed it.

A nine year old getting drunk wouldn't solve anything.

But...I had already objected to Regulus drinking at this point, and realistically, there was nothing wrong with an adult witch or wizard having a drink. I'd not drunk much in my past and never to excess, but I understood the impulse to drown one's sorrows on occasion. As long as this didn't become a habit, I really had no grounds to put up too much of a fuss about it.

I sighed. "Uncle Regulus...as hard as it may be to believe, I honestly care about both you and your children. I care for their welfare and happiness, I enjoy their company and companionship, and you are an integral part of all of the above. I understand that I am nine years old and very much a child, but I also find myself in the unenviable position of being the only person able to determine if you need medical aid in the event you should drink yourself into a coma."

Regulus heaved a heavy sigh as well, pinning me with a gaze that was half disdain and half grateful. He shook his head slowly, nodding absently.

"Fine." Regulus stated. "Fine. We should talk anyway. Probably best if I get blind drunk while I'm at it. Begging a child for help..."

I bristled slightly at the derogatory blandishment implied in the word, but kept my peace as Regulus summoned a glass from the cupboard and then performed a similar charm to pull a butterbeer from the icebox.

The silence stretched as Regulus stared down at the uncorked bottle of whiskey, looking as if he were a man about to leap off a cliff. His eyes cut towards me, narrowed and intent. "This never happened, are we clear Desdemona? I'm allowing you to stay up late and converse with me to clear the air between us, but none of what occurs tonight need make it back to my children's ears, do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I nodded respectfully, risking eye contact to indicate my seriousness. "I'm more than capable of keeping anything that happens tonight a secret. Mother would never let me visit if she knew the only supervising adult would be drinking."

"Good," Regulus nodded. "I've probably already messed them up enough. They don't need to know about this."

I frowned, "Pardon me, uncle, but what is that supposed to mean?"

Regulus snorted. "You wouldn't understand. Lucius and Narcissa raised you right...good pureblood household. Sagittarius and Virgo? They spend too much time with their mudblood mother, even if she can't, or won't, take them."

My frown deepened and I forced myself into a more neutral expression. I'd made a good call on not explaining my situation to Regulus. He wouldn't understand...yet, at least. There might come a time when I could share my secrets with him, but...no. Not yet, not now. Still, I couldn't let such a slight against my friends go. "Uncle...given that you are speaking so frankly on the subject, may I afford myself the same courtesy and speak my mind?"
Regulus blinked as he took a large pull from his glass.

"I...don't have any right to deny you, really. It would be bad form for me to unwind and not allow you to do the same." Regulus sighed, shaking his head. "You probably need it as much as I do anyway, you're the most adult child I've ever met...too serious by half sometimes."

I flinched slightly, but covered it up with a sip from my glass of butterbeer.

As I sat my glass down, I took a deep breath. Regulus and I had an...'understanding' founded on our mutual...difficulties in life. His was the fact that his children had been signed onto the Black family as legitimate heirs despite being half-bloods. Mine was the fact that I cared very little about that same blood inheritance.
It wouldn't be surprising for me to be defensive of my friends, would it?

Besides, here in the kitchen we were safe from the prying eyes of the portraits and the listening ears of company. Here at least, I could air a bit of my constant irritation at wizarding society. My face firmed.

"Tarry and Virgo are respectable children," I stated, somewhat fiercely. "The only ones I'd rather have my back over Tarry and Virgo would be Draco...and maybe Flora and Hestia."

Regulus took another sip, grimacing at the taste. "Nice of you to say, but I know they aren't quite right. I've tried to talk to them before, but...I guess I can't blame them for loving their mum, even if she is of the wrong sort."
Now I scowled and took a deep draw from my butterbeer. "That is extremely improper, Uncle Regulus. I admit I can't understand your behavior sometimes. She might not have the right heritage, but she gave you two brilliant, capable children. I wouldn't have a word spoken against her, were I you."

Regulus' face tightened. "Should have told my mother that, sometime. I'd have loved to see her face. You should know better, though...she's the kind of woman that couldn't bring anything into the Black family, Mother would have been within rights to throw me out the minute I came home with Sagittarius and Virgo."

I stared long and hard at the half-empty glass of powerful whiskey he'd been imbibing, weighing my next sentence against the likelihood of his memory bearing out. Eventually, after a long moment of silence, I looked Regulus in the eye again and said something I'd wanted to say for years. "She would only do so because she was a wretched, loathsome human being that couldn't see past her own prejudice. Do you love you children?" I asked.
Regulus's face, which had been coloring with the rage of a child's insult to their mother, transitioned to the anger of an offended parent. "What kind of question is that!? Of course I love them!"

"Then what your mother said or thought doesn't matter," I spat, taking a rather large gulp of my own drink and wishing it had a more alcoholic bite to it.

Regulus dropped his head in his hands chuckling darkly. "And you'd like me to think that, wouldn't you? I say something like that in front of your father and he'll have me and my kids out on the street when you turn eighteen. Of course, it's not like Lucius and Narcissa wouldn't do that anyway."

I grimaced. "Father is going to be in charge of the money until my majority? Has it been set already?"

Regulus eyed me oddly, "No. I'll be in charge of things. Mother and I compromised on that. She wouldn't let me inherit on the grounds that I might leave everything to Sagittarius and Virgo, but with me overseeing the money and lands, they'll at least be guaranteed a home until they reach their majority. Mother would never let Lucius Malfoy get his hands on the Black fortune anyway."

I groaned, palming my own face, suddenly overcome with tiredness. Everything today had just been too much. I was still able to cope mentally, but I was emotionally drained and my pureblood 'mask' was cracking, revealing a coarser side of my behavior I usually went to pains to hide. "Great! I don't even want the stupid inheritance! I hate politics!"

Disbelief was clear on Regulus' face, somewhere between the vacancy and shock. "You're serious."

"Of course I am," I growled, rubbing at my forehead as I felt a migraine build. "I hate politics," I repeated. "I don't want to deal with people who smile as they sharpen knives and practice deadly spells. I don't even like people all that much. I'd rather spend the rest of my days reading under the sun and lazing under the moon. Draco's the heir, not me."

"You remind me of my brother," Regulus said absently, smiling softly. "Sirius always had his head in the clouds...although, he didn't like books nearly as much as you. He was always...different, too. He hated Mother, Father too. He never...fit."

I ran my thumb over the rim of my glass thoughtlessly, staring into the orange-yellow liquid.

"...I have no idea what to do," I confessed, sighing into the pregnant silence. "I didn't...couldn't plan for this. What...do I do?" My eyes were watering as I shook my head.

I was just so very, very tired.

Tired of being strong, tired of living day in and day out, tired of getting up every day and pushing myself to exhaustion so I wouldn't have to think about anything. I was utterly exhausted beyond words, I wanted to lay down and wake up and have this entire life be a bad dream at that moment. I wanted to be able to go back to living without any obligations, without anyone depending on me , without a world that might need me to be the best and brightest I'd ever be able to be. That constant damning pressure was just too much.

"Never thought I'd hear a Malfoy say that," Regulus commented as though I wasn't inches away from an emotional breakdown. "Your grandfather, Abraxus...he was always trying to steal the Black family headship. He thought Narcissha," I noticed the booze seeping into his speech as my mother's name slurred, "would bring in the Black money. Guess he was right, even if not in the way he intended."

"What do family heads do, even?" I asked in desperation, trying to get a grip on the situation.

"Lushius never explained anything?" Regulus asked, blinking.

"That was always Draco's thing," I demurred. "I never really wanted part of it."

Regulus stared at me for another moment, laughing quietly to himself and shaking his head. "Ah, let's shee...mostly just take care of the family, the money, and the landsh. Though, you're too young to...what'd dad always say? 'Asshume your proper dutiesh?' Yeah, that's right. You'll need a...whatchamacallit. A regent! That's what I am!"

"Damn," I groaned quietly, moving to take another sip and finding my glass empty. Resignedly, I stood and retrieved another butterbeer from the icebox. I fervently wished I was stupid enough to allow myself a shot of whiskey.

"Sho..." The older coughed, staring at me as if he'd forgotten what he was about to say. "Sophia...Sagittarius and Virgo's mum, is dying."

I winced, both from the alcoholic fumes my uncle was breathing and the new subject. "My condolences, uncle."

Regulus nodded, swallowing an almost visible lump in his throat. "I met her in this bar, down in Italy or Sicily, or something. Didn't speak Italian. She spoke English, learned it in schule or what have you. I was...runnin, from tshe Dark Lord. I was nineteen. I had a few drinksh and we went back to my room. Shiriush alwaysh said I should have more fun...guessh I showed him, huh?"

"Bollocks ," I muttered, proving that my 'guy attitude' from my prior life wasn't completely gone. I was about as empathic as your average rock and twice as eloquent. It was both comforting and extremely irritating.

I had the emotional depth of a teaspoon, really. I was able to fake it well enough, usually, but I hated heart-to-hearts, crying girls, and all that emotional piss. Here I was, though, near tears, letting Regulus use me as some sort of cut-rate confessional.

"Then, she showsh up a couple weeksh later, I'm about to leave, and she says she's preggers and I've gotta take resphonsibility. Next year, I've got two kidsh with me on my way to Franshe." Regulus finished. "Now, their mum is gonna' die and I'll have to take care of them more than I already do. I don't know what I'm doin with kidsh..."

"You're doing well," I reassured him, shaking my head. "Virgo and Tarry are wicked good children."

"Yeah shure," Regulus waved me off, refiling his glass as I wondered when he'd emptied it. Even as I thought that, he spilled more into his glass. "But what if I fuck 'em up? Mum and dad schrewed up Shiriush and me pretty bad ash it is."

I took another sip of the almost-too-sweet liquid, taking my time in answering. Finally, I nodded. "My, admittedly limited understanding of the subject, uncle, is that as long as you're worried about 'screwing up,' you won't blame your children for your own 'screw ups.' That is what poor parents do, they blame their kids."

Regulus mulled over my answer, nodding to himself. "Thanksh, Dez...that helpsh. I sthill don't know what I'm gonna' do when your da' kicksh me and the kidsh out..."

I sighed and took another drink of my butterbeer as I resigned myself to hearing Regulus' woes and sorrows. He was evidently a 'sad drunk.'

This would be a long night.

In Bad Faith

So we'd talked.

Well, I'd talked.

Regulus had slurred drunkenly, bemoaning a dozen life choices and then wallowing in self-loathing for even contemplating the 'pureblood way of life' could be wrong. The conversation had spiraled downwards after that, culminating in the now thoroughly drunk man attempting to give me advice on how not to end up a sad, lonely social outcast at the ripe old age of twenty nine.

"...you jusht don't undershtand kid. I hope you never do. Fucked my life up...joined the Death Eatersh, but chickened out on my inishiation run. The Dark Lord shent us out to kill these two ginger arseholes who'd been making his life hell..."

Regulus paused to take a drink here.

"Fucking Dark Lordsh..." He cursed eloquently. "Four of my friendsh, good guysh...two dead and two in Azhkaban, may as well be dead for all they'll ever talk to me again."

Regulus stopped here, staring bleakly down at his glass as I slowly digested the facts.

At least a few of the 'differences' between the original timeline and the people in my new life made sense now. It was interesting, at least from a certain perspective, to see the knock-on effects as different decisions made greater and greater changes.

"...and I get back to the Isles and those two redheaded twitsh...what're their names? Gordon and Fudge? Shomething like that...they've got Ordersh of Merlin for killing a good people, people who were just trying to un-fuck the country...washn't their fault the dipshit in charge was bugnuts loony. But, yeah, those two-two...what were their names again? Prewettsh! That's it!"

Another drink.

...and another 'mystery' solved. Regulus had an attack of conscience when the Dark Lord had sent him and a small group to kill Gideon and Fabian Prewett. If Regulus hadn't run, there was a not-insignificant chance they would have succeeded.

But Regulus had ran.

"...anyway," Regulus moaned. "Theshe two twitsh, I knew 'em from school...they weren't bad sortsh, just...shtupid, a little lazy...and they liked jokesh too much. Used to pull theshe...pranksh or something on everyone..."

I nodded obligingly, my eyes far away in the land of 'what if' as Regulus continued his story.

"...Sho, I thought to myshelf...'Reggie, do theshe two idiotsh need to die?' I mean, they were blood traitorsh, yeah, but...weren't they the kind of pershon, the kind of wizard the Death Eatersh were supposed to be protecting?"

"So you didn't want to kill them?" I asked quietly, mindful of a drunk individual's quicksilver temper.

"Yesh...no...maybe," Regulus answered nonsensically. He dropped his head onto the table as I waited for his thoughts to form some level of coherency. "I jusht...after all thish time, I came back and they'd killed my friendsh or threw 'em in jail and...well, now those idiots have families and my friendsh...didn't they deserve that chance too?"

I swallowed.

"I think..." I said slowly, ponderously, searching for answers I didn't have. "I think...killing people is all bollocks-ed up. They shouldn't have killed your friends, but your friends shouldn't have tried to kill them either. I think you should let it go. Even though your friends don't have families,you do and your kids need you now. I need you, uncle."

Regulus heaved a sigh as he pressed his cheek against the table.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Maybe..."

Then his eyes drifted closed and I heaved another large sigh as I readied myself to call Kreacher and get Regulus to bed.

In Bad Faith

Regulus had been difficult to wake, given his hungover state.

Eventually, Kreacher and I'd resorted to a bucket of cold water and a pepper-up potion before dumping him, clothes and all, into a near-scalding hot shower. Even if his temper hadn't been improved by that course of events, it had served to pull him fully into the realm of wakefulness. Of course, I'd refrained from showing so much as a grin over the course of events.

I shook my head despondently and took a deep breath, closing my eyes as we stepped over the goblin-guarded threshold of the bank. As I prepared myself for the ordeal ahead, where I would assume the mantle of the heir apparent to an Ancient and Noble House, something which I'd never wanted or needed, something which would change my life forever...I reached for my desperately-needed mental focused and took a deep breath.

Find your center...

There is fury, but within, peace.

Calm, cool, and collected...

There is weakness, but within, strength.

I am Desdemona Malfoy...

There is wrath, but within, grace.

And...hold...

There is a storm, but within, stillness.

I opened my eyes, feeling the mask-like tension settle on my face, so familiar as to be imperceptible. Emotions seemed more distant now, my alarm and unease at last night's revelations pushed to the side as I readied myself to meet my parents. I checked myself over one last time and discretely fixed the tiniest of misplaced fabrics before nodding to myself.

Regulus blinked, turning back and eyeing me for a long second, then shaking his head, he turned and entered into the bank a step ahead of me. It was easy to see the first group we'd have to make contact with. The three platinum blondes standing secluded near the row of floo exits likewise moved as one towards our group.
With effort, I wrestled down my irritation towards my parents. Likely, hopefully, they'd had their reasons for not telling me what was to come. Nevertheless, it was not something to be brought up in public. Airing one's dirty laundry in front of a crowd was...ill-advised.

"Mother, Father," I greeted, half-smiling politely. "Brother."

Lucius regarded me imperiously, though warmly.

Narcissa had the most humanity in her gaze.

Draco looked as though he'd rather be on his broom, at home, than here.

Greetings were exchanged and we ventured towards one of the tellers, the entourage in tow.

Goblins...I didn't really 'get' goblins. They weren't human, they didn't act like humans, and they didn't want anything to do with humans. There was more than enough cultural hatred and bad blood over the centuries to explain the negative feelings, but...I had the feeling it was something more. There wasn't any 'impoliteness' in the way a goblin addressed a human, merely the kind of gruff, brusque attitude I'd seen in dozens of businessmen of my former world.

I'd never, as yet, had any true personal dealings with the non-humans, but I retained an air of strict...not quite 'politeness,' but at least 'non-insulting-ness.'

It was a few short minutes before we were shown into a large room off to the side of the main bank, fitted with numerous chairs and a large podium at the front. Other individuals had already arrived, a few people I somewhat-recognized from cadet branches of the Blacks and even a Malfoy or two my family didn't mention in polite society.

Cough-bastard family lines-Cough

I affected my absolute most disdainful and arrogant gaze towards those individuals especially, making sure to raise my nose an extra degree or two and let a superior sneer cross my face.

Probably hoping one of the proper Malfoy name will drop some pocket change or something...

I honestly couldn't understand why they were here. It wasn't as if Walburga Black would have seen fit to leave anything to a long line of bastard children sired on the wrong side of the sheets.

In short order, we were seated before a graying wizard standing at the podium, looking as though he'd been ancient before the wheel had been invented. I suppose that made him about half as old as Dumbledore himself. I had to applaud Gringotts, though, they'd probably foreseen the disrespect pureblood wizards would pay to a goblin spokesperson and selected a human for the honor.

...either that, or they'd just rather not deal with the remaining Blacks, Malfoys, and a few other relatively distant cousins all in the same room and trying to out-pureblood each other.

...on second thought, that was probably it.

Cutting my eyes to the side, I noticed that Tarry and Virgo were seated with their father, looking every inch the Black heirs they were supposed to be. My cheeks twitched, but I resisted the urge to smile once again as pride for my friends welled up.

They might not have been born into it, not quite at least, but they're good actors...I suppose the same could be said of me, in a way...

"Ah, yes..." The aged wizard coughed, bringing the room to a respectful silence. Everyone was at least willing to let the will be read before they made a scene. "My name is Adrian Tombs, and we are gathered here today, Lords and Ladies, to read the will of the late and honorable Lady Walburga Black. Now, before we begin, I have some general instructions..."

Interruptions would not be tolerated.

If a person or persons were disruptive, they would be asked to leave.

If they would not leave, they would be made to leave.

Legal affairs would be handled after the will was read, wherein individuals who were bequeathed items, land, or money would sign for their possession.

No, you could not sign for something before the reading was over and if you asked, it would count as a disruption of the proceedings.

So did asking to be excused for the restrooms, and sneezing, and...you get the drift.

I think he scowled especially hard when he got to that part, his eyes hard as flint and twice as sharp. I had to fight back a giggle, I liked this guy, he knew how to be no-nonsense. I particularly liked his droning voice and wondered momentarily if this guy was...what was his name? That guy who did the...eye drops commercials? Maybe this was his magical cousin or something?

"...and to my niece, Andromeda Tonks, nee Black, I leave a sealed envelope to be handed over to her person after my passing," Tombs read aloud, holding up a parchment square with a wax seal on it. "To my other niece, Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, I leave the contents of the small oak box to be found with the will and a letter to be delivered as abovementioned."

Tombs held up the items and put them to the side, where a small stack of random items and letters was arranged.

"To my son, Regulus Black," the old wizard read, "I leave the sum of ten thousand gold galleons and the peace of mind of having finally stood up to your mother. Despite what has happened, I am proud of you. For your strength of will, you will retain the title of Regent of House Black until my heir comes of age."

My lips tightened and, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Regulus flinch as if struck, a chink in his armor showing. Tarry and Virgo looked to be honestly trying to maintain their composure, but failing ever so slightly as they looked to their father with concern.

"To my delinquent son and my final niece, Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange, nee Black, I leave nothing as befits such failures to society and their lineage." Tombs read, and I felt myself wince despite my control.

They were family, you bitch...

Sure, there was the possibility they were both insane and/or murderously maniacal, but...they were family. They are family.

I felt my resolve to get Sirius out of Azkaban strengthen. If Bellatrix...if she deserved it, I would try. If she was every bit the mad dog I'd read about and watched years ago...well, I'd do my duty as the head of her family and put her down, because...

She's family.

"...to my grandnephew, Draco Abraxus Malfoy, I leave the sum of a thousand gold galleons to be awarded to his parents, who may dispense it such as they see fit. I hope that this may replace the birthdays, solstices, and other holidays which I will not be present for."

My eyes narrowed as I saw Draco break out into a perceivable sneer.

Try harder Walburga, you didn't make Tarry and Virgo conspicuously absent enough...

A woman like Walburga Black did nothing by chance. There was no such thing as an accident to her. It wasn't a very subtle slight, but from the lack of expression on the Black twin's faces, I saw that they understood. It was Walburga's way of say that they didn't belong, that they would never be good enough. My jaw clenched in anger.

"...and finally, to my grandniece, Desdemona Galatea Malfoy, I leave the sum total of my most precious possessions and the whole of my remaining material wealth, lands, rents, properties, and the headship of the Black family."

Mother and Father smiled like sharks.

A vicious and dark anger bloomed within me, begging to be unleashed . I reflexively called on my mental exercises, desperate to stay in control. Getting angry and lashing out at Lucius and Narcissa, Father and Mother, would solve nothing, I reminded myself.

"As my heir is a minor, she will bear the title of Heir Apparent. Responsibility for the assets of House Black will pass to her regent, my son Regulus Arcturus Black, who will represent her and the Black family until her age of majority. I wish her a bright future and care for all those things important to me, which she now bears responsibility for."

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe deeply.

Regulus had told me, but hearing it from the old wizard's mouth made it real. I felt my delicately manicured and polished nails (but not painted, purebloods did not paint their nails) dig into the skin of my palm, doubtless leaving tiny white crescent moons from the pressure.

"Would the heiress please approach?" Adrian Tombs asked in his blank, gray voice.

I stood mechanically, not bothering to flick a glance towards Regulus, Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, Tarry, or Virgo. I needed to concentrate...I needed to not lose my nerve. I'm rather proud of the way I held myself steady as I approached.

"Will the regent, so named, come forth to sign," Tombs said. Not asked, mind you, but said...or ordered. It was as polite as possible, but it was an order all the same.

I heard light footsteps as my...friend approached.

He caught my eyes with his own gray orbs. I gave him a reassuring grin that made a muscle spasm above his left eye.

"Regulus Arcturus Black," Tombs rasped out and placed a piece of parchment on the table. It looked to be a long and detailed contract. "Are you knowledgeable regarding the duties, privileges, and responsibilities of a regent of an Ancient and Noble House as outlined in this document?"

Regulus made a show of looking over the document, but clearly knew what it entailed. It might have even been drafted by his father, once upon a time. After a moment, he looked up and nodded once, decisively. "I am."

"So witnessed," Tombs nodded, watching as I signed, Regulus signed, and finally as he added his own signature to the document. "Now, as per the requirement of her inheritance, the Heir Apparent Desdemona Galatea Malfoy will be beholden to the decisions of her regent in all matters pertaining to her inheritance and coming headship of the Black family."

Nobly and with great restraint, I refrained from sighing loudly in exasperation.

...I hate politics...so much.

In Bad Faith

Father was nearly beaming as we stepped from the floo.

The smiling, almost-joyous expression on his face was something to behold, perhaps even more so because he so seldom even smiled. This particular series of stretched muscles and twisted features could not, I believe, truly be called a 'smile' for reason of his inexperience, but it definitely conveyed a deep and exalted joie de vivre. It was, in a word, creepy.

Draco was excused while our parents ushered me towards the study for a private chat. The expression on my brother's face was one part mulish and two parts thoughtful. As soon as he was out the door, Mother wasted no time in sweeping me into a crushing hug.

"Oh, Desdemona," she practically purred my name, "we are so proud of you, child."

"Indeed, daughter," Father nodded, stepping up to lay one hand on my shoulder, "you've done well and made your family, both your families, proud this day."

That, from Lucius, was akin to outright jubilation, fanfare, and a Broadway song and dance number.

As I said...creepy.

"Thank you, Mother, Father," I ducked my head, acknowledging the praise. "Though I don't truly believe myself deserving of such kind words. All I did was present myself and sign a paper. It was nothing so impressive."

Father nodded minutely. "The Black family represents a great deal of capital: physical, monetary, and political. We refer not to your acceptance of the offer itself, but to your ability to insinuate yourself into Walburga Black's good graces and, given your aunt's lack of any...acceptable inheritors, she would choose you to take over the House of Black."

I blinked as I felt my stomach roil and light-headedness swim into being. The way Mother had phrased her words...

"Which you did excellently," Mother smiled, though there was an edge to it. "We are very proud of the fact that you were able to exhibit such grace and finesse in such a situation, by the way."

I swallowed dryly, pushing back the acute horror at the last few minutes' revelations and forced myself to say something. It was better to focus on the errant details than the fact that I'd been used, unknowingly, in a power-play by my own parents. "I...did not know you were aware of Virgo and Sagittarius' status as half-bloods."

Mother sighed as she and Father exchanged glances. "Initially we were quite unaware. Regulus has trained them well enough to pass most cursory inspections by our peers. It was Aunt Walburga who decided to explain the situation to us before she passed."

My teeth clenched discreetly. Did the old crone know no limits?!

"Indeed," Lucius nodded, seemingly ill-at-ease with the fact that someone had pulled the wool over his eyes. "It was one of the...compromises we came to agree on. Your inheritance depends on a few agreements made between your mother and her aunt."

I waited a moment, though Father didn't seem to be forthcoming on his own.

"...may I inquire as to the exact nature of these agreements?" I asked as politely as possible.

Lucius grimaced slightly. "Among other provisions, Grimmauld Place is to be allowed for Regulus and his spawn to reside in until you come of age. Then, it will be entirely your prerogative whether or not they shall be welcome further."

Father and I nodded in conjunction at that, sharing a predatory grin...

...for entirely different reasons. His grin, of course, was likely tied the idea of seeing his daughter finally take her place as the Black family head and dismiss the only other possible rightful claimant from his own ancestral home. My grin was because I would never bar the door to my own kin...and when I was seventeen, there was dick-all Father could do about it.

"Further," Narcissa interjected. "I will have an advisory roll in matters concerning large expenses and asset management of the Black properties...in case the work of managing the estate becomes too much for Regulus alone to handle."

'Mother...if you think that line would fool an actual nine-year-old, let alone me...' My eyes flickered back and forth between Narcissa's false smile and Lucius' very real scowl for a moment as I nodded slowly.

'Translation...Mother is there to keep Regulus honest. Father...probably wanted to talk Walburga into something like a co-regent so that he could leverage the finances against Regulus. I'll give the wily old bat this, at least, she wasn't anyone's fool.'

There were a few other, more intricate matters my parents made me aware of before my father had to take his leave to the ministry. Farewells were made for the time being, with one last paternal clap on my shoulder and another proud smile left me alone with my mother. I swallowed, shaking the image of my father's smiling face from my mind in favor of his usual grim expression. It was just too...unnerving.

"Desdemona," Mother probed quietly, almost...nervously as her tongue nipped out to whet her lips.

"Yes Mother?" I asked, slightly wary of what she was about to say. Today had not been a very good day for revelations.

"Was...was Regulus-" She cut herself off as she bit her lip, looking as though she was now on uncertain ground. "Was he...all right? When you went home with him last night?"

'Was actually displaying care for someone outside her immediate family that difficult?'

I stared at my mother for a long moment, stuck by both her unsureness and the way she shifted on her feet. I suppose it was that awkward. As I restrained my sigh of irritation, I looked away from the anxious older woman and nodded. "He was...understandably upset at both the death of his mother and being turned down for the position of Black family head. Mother...why did you not tell me I was going to be selected for this honor?"

Narcissa sighed, a bit of her worry abating as she dropped into a nearby seat.

"We were waiting until the night before. Walburga delayed proceedings until she was absolutely certain she would be passing on. When the last healer gave his report, she finally signed the documents. Your father and I have had our hands full taking care of the paperwork with the goblins and a few...unscrupulous claims. We wanted to be absolutely sure of everything...and then you asked to stay with Regulus and his children..."

I scowled out the window. It seemed much too early in the day for me to be this tired. Maybe I'd just take the weekend off and sleep in for a change...lessons would be too much to take after all this. "Uncle Regulus needed someone to be there, if only for Sagittarius and Virgo."

I tried to keep the indictment out of my tone, but some of my feelings must have crept into the statement.

'At least I didn't start yelling at her for not being there...'

Narcissa flushed. I imagined...hoped, really, that at least part of it was shame, but I knew at least some of the heat rising in her cheeks was anger. "Daughter...Regulus would not have been receptive to any overture made by either myself or Lucius and he has quite successfully isolated himself either through his unwillingness to reach out to others in our social circles or through the revelation that his children are half-bloods and have been legitimized."

I slumped slightly. "I suppose it was too much to hope that it would stay a secret, wasn't it?"

Narcissa nodded once, sharply, before coming up to my side and slipping her arms around me in a hug. I felt a bit of the tension within me leave. "You were very discreet regarding Sagittarius and Virgo, Desdemona. It is my hope you will continue to associate with them."

I blinked, looking up at her in confusion. "But-"

She interrupted, a sly smile on her lips. "Some will deride such a decision, I'm sure, but...well, you are a very mature child, Desdemona, and I know that you understand that there are both benefits and demerits to having a more...moderate position in life. Some roads open to you, others close. I'll trust you have the ability to make a wise decision on your own."

'...that's...about as close to outright permission as I'll ever get, I imagine.'

"Regulus obviously cares very deeply regarding his children," Narcissa continued. "It was, ultimately, his choice as to whether he would inherit. Walburga made him choose between his birthright and making the twins legitimate members of House Black. I...think it was the first time he ever denied his mother anything."

I closed my eyes as I silently commended my uncle. "What about Father?"

Narcissa patted me on the head, something I would have found demeaning a lifetime ago. "Your father has better things to do than concern himself intimately with the affairs of children, Desdemona...as long as they do not become problematic, understood?"

'Father is taking a 'hands-off' stance...unless I make a scene and rock the political boat.'

"Yes Mother." I nodded.

Narcissa gave me another slight squeeze of a hug before ushering me out of Lucius' study and towards my own rooms. As soon as I was out of sight, though, I stepped into a lounge and collapsed onto a leather armchair. I pressed my hand over my eyes as I fought to contain the turbulence of my emotions, finding it easier to ignore the screaming voice in my mind that cried out against the unfairness and injustice of the situation as I focused on my mental exercises.

'You manipulated your own CHILD like a piece on a board, coldly and unfeelingly and you think its a GOOD THING?!'

Another part of me knew it was the intelligent thing to do. It ensured the second child, one who had little promise of an inheritance, would have their future assured. Yes, it was cold and unfeeling. It was manipulation at its most base and inexcusable. The people I'd just realized that I loved as parents considered me an investment, an abstract mathematical calculation of worth and value which needed to propagate itself over time...

To be a child in the upper crust of pureblood society, did not mean you were be taught.

It meant you were trained.

Even if I hadn't requested early lessons, the stringent line of tutors and personalized lessons would have begun within another year or two anyway. Pureblood children were raised, after all, with the expectation that they would come into and be expected to be able to managed a large sum of money and property. I had, without thinking and out of the kindness of my heart...performed exactly to their expectations.

'Was it kindness? Or...do I understand, on some level, that this is just how the game is played? Did it mean that my parents didn't love me...or was it confirmation that my parents did, in fact, love me? That they want what's best for me? That they want me to be prepared for the real world?'

"Dez."

I blinked, shaken out of my thoughts and taken by surprise as my brother seemingly appeared in the doorway. He looked slightly unsure of himself, shifting from foot to foot as if he wasn't entirely sure why he was there.

"Dray," I replied tiredly as I leaned back on the couch.

There was a beat of silence.

"You're the Black heir." He stated, his eyes searching for something in me. There was a note of surprise in his voice, as though he was still getting used to the notion.

He could join the club.

"I am," I affirmed, trying to shrug off the awkwardness of the moment and failing miserably.

Draco gave a quick nod and stepped over to where I was sitting, presenting a small brown book with a worn and blank cover. I leaped on the change of topic like a starving man upon food. My expression brightened as I looked over the tiny gem.

"Did you like it?" I asked, motioning for him to sit.

Draco frowned slightly as he sat, thinking his words over. "I suppose...it was interesting, at least. I'm not sure I understood everything he was talking about."

"Which parts did you have trouble with?" I asked idly, turning pages carefully. It was a very old book, likely benefiting from the extensive enchantments on our library to keep the parchment supple and stop decay.

"Don't do that."

I blinked, my head snapping up to see Draco scowling at me. I stared uncomprehendingly for a moment, before allowing an abashed grimace to wash over my face. "My apologies, Brother. I forgot myself."

Draco flushed slightly and turned his head. "It's...all right. Just...you're my little sister. You shouldn't act...like that, like you're...smarter than me. It's...unseemly."

It was a small thing, all considered, to simply 'let' Draco have a bit of the spotlight I'd somewhat unfairly stolen from him, especially when it was just the two of us. I could have embarrassed or belittled him with my 'genius' at every turn, destroyed even the semblance of a sibling relationship we'd had prior to this understanding, but...as much as I was worried about timelines and futures and all that rot, I found it so very hard to extend a hand to Sagittarius and Virgo, then use that same hand to slap my brother in the face when he came to me for help.

My mind drifted back to that perfect winter day and I felt a flicker of familial warmth in my heart. 'Well, that wouldn't do,' I thought with a mental smirk. Time for a little good-natured sibling banter. My lips twitched. "You know, Father would probably say 'unsightly' instead of 'unseemly.'"

Draco's flush deepened, though his rolled eyes told me he took it as the jest it was. I had to hand it to Draco, though. He was much more pleasant to be around after he'd grown out of the over-serious child phase he'd been stuck in.

"I think Mother would say it's unseemly to tease your older brother, Sister." Draco riposted.

I hummed lightly and shook my head. "No, she'd probably just give us that weird smile. The one she only gives us when we argue without coming to blows. I'm pretty sure she thinks we're cute when we bicker."

Draco made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat.

I seconded the notion with great dignity.

"We are the heirs of Ancient and Noble Pureblood Houses," Draco announced with gravitas. "We are not cute."

"Hear, hear Honored Elder Sibling," I replied.

Our noses were raised ever-so-slightly too high, our expressions just a touch too serious, and the affected arrogance of our social stations just a bit over the top. The tableau stuck for a moment as traditions of pomp and circumstance fought with the near-universal urges of mockery and childhood. The battle was long and hard, but only a few moments later we both collapsed into laughter.

After another round of giggles, I held up the small book once again.

"In all seriousness, Dray..." I caught myself this time and smiled. "Do you think you could help me with a few things?"

Draco smiled back, gratitude and relief clear in his features.

"I suppose..." Draco nodded, frowning thoughtfully. "I...I mean, did you understand what he meant by cruelty and kindness? He talks about how to use cruelty so often, but there was that passage..."

"-about how one must take care not to be perceived as cruel?" I asked carefully.

Draco nodded. "I mean, Father-well, the way people talk about him when they don't think he's listening. Some of them said things..."

I swallowed the sudden blossom of anger at these unknowns. It was stupid and clumsy of them not to notice a child while they conspired behind our family's back. "You told Father?" I asked despite already knowing the answer.

Draco sneered cruelly.

"Good," I replied decisively. I could tolerate competition fairly easily. A good opponent could make or break the enjoyment of a game. I despised lackluster opponents, though. It simply wouldn't do for someone so inept to try and challenge Father with such a petty tool as hearsay and rumor.

We Malfoys have standards, after all.

Now that I had to comport myself as the heir to the Blacks, such was doubly important.

"...but," Draco whispered, suddenly wilting. "Well, they were afraid of Father...and, what they said...I think they hated him for...things he did..."

We were both silent for a moment.

As with any household, there were certain taboo (pardon the pun) subjects. In our household, and many other pureblood houses as I'd learned, one of those subjects revolved around a certain Dark Lord. Both Father and Mother never talked about Lucius' time as a Death Eater. When it was mentioned at parties and gatherings, it tended to sour conversation instantly and left the individual who'd brought the topic up floundering in a tense and hostile atmosphere.

I still wasn't completely sure what that meant, though.

...and that bothered me, honestly.

If there was one glaring hole in my understanding of the Wizarding War, it was a lack of understanding the Death Eaters themselves. Perhaps they merely enjoyed violence and dark, as had been portrayed in so many books...

...but then why had the war ended so suddenly? Over ten years of conflict brought to an end inside of two months? After the Dark Lord had vanished, the Death Eaters had simply stopped fighting, most at least. The Lestrange family, Barty Crouch Jr, and a few others...they'd had to be dragged to Azkaban. However, if I looked at the numbers, that meant something like approximately ninety percent of the Death Eaters (though I couldn't be sure how accurate my numbers were, given the secrecy of their ranks) had laid down their wands and ceased hostilities.

That is the kind of historical weirdness that just doesn't make any fucking sense.

If the Dark Lord's followers were truly loyal, they should have kept up the fight, or at least regrouped. They should have sent out searches for him, if they didn't believe he was dead? But for an insurgency movement hundreds strong built and tested over ten long years of guerrilla war to collapse merely because the leader 'died?' Contrary to what popular theory dictated, 'cutting the head off the snake,' did not work like that.

It was one of those annoying little puzzles only a first-hand account could really illuminate.

"...does that mean that Father is a bad lord?" Draco asked quietly, bringing me back to myself. "If people hate him? The things in the book...they made sense, but Father can't be a bad lord, can he? I mean, he's still...there are plenty of people who support him, aren't there?"

I sighed and decided to tread carefully. "I think Father is such a good lord that he can afford to have a few people hate him, but...if he learned some of these lessons, I think he'd be an even better one."

Draco pursed his lips. "He...the book was really interesting. I liked it quite a bit."

"Good. Did you want to talk about anything else?" I asked with a smile.

My brother nodded. "That part where he talks about judging rulers based on the people around them." He flushed slightly. "It got me to thinking...Vince and Greg are good friends and they do whatever I say, but...they aren't like the good advisers he talks about."

"Hestia and Flora aren't exactly the epitomes of wisdom." I replied wryly, though inwardly I felt the joy and gratification of a lesson well-learned on behalf of a diligent pupil.

Draco snorted, grinning slightly.

Then grin faded slowly and he sighed, "I guess, but they listen to you. They help you think up games and ideas and pranks...Greg and Vince just kind of...grunt. Father said that they were children of his friends and the Goyles and Crabbes have connections in potion ingredient farming...it's not like I can just choose friends from another family. If they turned me away, it would be a big embarrassment."

I smiled, "Then start making Greg and Vince into the kinds of advisers and friends you want them to be. If all they do is grunt, then ask questions and things that they can't just grunt to. Maybe they're just used to you leading them around...if they had a chance, they might surprise you."

Draco's expression mirrored my inner doubts on the subject so much I had to choke back a snicker.

My all the Gods help me, but I'd actually started to like the idea of Draco as my older brother.

In Bad Faith

It was another long day.

Of course, my days were generally fairly long, though the content had been slowly changing over the past week. Lessons were being dropped, tutors slowly let go. I'd fought to keep my language teachers for a bit longer, but mathematics, language, and a few other things now left holes which had been filled with more private lectures further refining my grasp of political matters and refining the comportment I'd had ingrained in me from an early age.

It wasn't as though I'd gain fluency in either subject overnight...

...and it meant spending more time in close proximity to my mother and father, both of whom I wasn't precisely 'happy' with at the moment...

...but, I suppose it would pay off eventually.

At the moment, I was straining what little political 'muscles' I'd managed to build with my regent. We'd let the tension from Regulus' drunken ramblings fade as well as his own injured pride at being forced to cater to a child less than a third of his age. Given my own awkwardness in dispelling the anxiety between us, I'd thought it best to allow both of us to cool our heels a bit and grant us some breathing room.

Still, my reception at Number 12 Grimmauld Place had been...less than pleasant.

Although Kreacher had answered the door, it had been Virgo who'd showed me into the parlor to her father. I'd glimpsed Sagittarius flitting about in the halls and doorways, obviously having been instructed by either his sister or father to avoid me until further notice.

"Father," Virgo called at the doorway, "the Lady Black is here to call on us."

The insincerity and spite in the title was enough to raise my hackles, though I refrained from calling my friend on it. The business of hashing things out between myself and Regulus would hopefully settle things a bit. As much of a spitfire as Virgo was sometimes, I really did enjoy her company.

Regulus, sitting in a large and cushioned leather armchair, raised an eyebrow expectantly, then nodded, "Thank you Virgo. Why don't you and Tarry play upstairs for a bit?"

The dismissal was obvious, though Virgo lingered for a moment, flashing me an uncertain and dangerous look.

"Well, isn't that just stupendous," I muttered sourly as I dropped into another cushy armchair.

"I've tried to talk to her," Regulus offered somewhat halfheartedly, running a hand through his hair. "She's just..." He feel quiet as he groped for an explanation.

"Feeling betrayed," I guessed. "She's older than Tarry, right? I practically stole her birthright."

Regulus was silent, making no move to contradict me.

"I'm not apologizing. It wasn't my choice to saddle me with this honor," I responded to the unasked question. "I am a Malfoy. I do have my pride..." Here, though, I sighed. "Don't worry about it. She and I will...work something out."

My regent gave a smirk and shook his head.

"Speaking of my...new station," I began awkwardly. "We need to discuss a few things."

"I suppose, though it's unlikely you'll need to be concerned with anything for some years yet. I'm tasked with maintaining the Black monies, your mother will see to actually growing the investments further. We've talked it over a bit."

"Which means you'll have to teach me as much as you can; how the Black family finances work, what areas the family's political influence is strongest in, how exactly the Wizarding government works. I'm pretty sure your father, Orion, gave you some training to take over the headship?" I asked intently.

Regulus started, almost doing a double-take. "What now? Why would I do anything of the sort?"

I leaned back, thinking about the situation for a long moment. Regulus was one of the few people I really wanted on my side for various reasons. To get him on my side, though, I would need to offer him incentive. Enough incentive so that he wouldn't be tempted to stab me in the back (either literally or figuratively). Lucius would undoubtedly teach me well enough, but if I was actually going to be conned into managing such a huge fortune, I'd want to be comprehensively knowledgeable on everything the House held. Although Mother undoubtedly knew a bit of the fortune, she'd likely never been briefed on the full extent of the Black holdings, having not been expected to inherit.

Plus, it would allow Regulus and myself more time alone together, hopefully letting us resolve the differences this situation had created between us. If I every actually worked out a plan of 'attack' against Voldemort, whether covert or overt, an adult friendly to my aims that trusted me would be a definite asset. Even after I reached the age of majority, he'd likely be a good ally...

...and maybe a friend.

"Its in both of our best interests," I pointed out.

Regulus raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Is it? I'm not fool enough to not recognize that Lucius is more than willing and able to teach you. You hardly need me now and what happens when you reach your age of majority? Am I to be reduced to complete irrelevance?"

I decided to interrupt before he could continue. It was a dangerous line of thought. "I keep you as my regent in all but name."

Regulus blinked.

"I explained that I don't like politics. I have no intention of becoming, effectively, a professional politician cum finance manager for my entire life. I might be the Head of House Black, but I have little interest in the job beyond making sure the House's assets and the House itself prospers," I explained, pinning him with a serious look.

Regulus grunted thoughtfully, "So if you aren't planning on controlling the House's finances or political power, why learn?"

"Several reasons," I deflected. "Firstly, I need to keep up appearances for Mother and Father, at the very least. I have no doubt Father, at least, is going to expect me to keep up with the current political climate, which would be one of the signs that I intend to take my position seriously. Should I demonstrate the fact that I'm intending to largely disregard my inheritance, there will likely be...unfortunate consequences. Once I reach seventeen, I'll be much less beholden to Lord Malfoy."

Regulus grimaced, conceding the point.

"Secondly, 'I am not fool enough,'" I quoted with a friendly sneer, "To trust you implicitly without any oversight. Even if only for my own, personal, assurance that you are a competent and trustworthy wizard."

My regent nodded again, conceding my second point begrudgingly.

"In exchange, I'm willing to pressure Mother, as much as I am able to, to sign off on you and your children using the Black finances to support yourselves and pay for tuition at Hogwarts, should you choose to enroll them there. Further, I won't stick my nose any deeper than necessary into how you choose to run our family's assets...as long as you agree I can take an advisory role so that I can, at least, appear to learn the trade."

Regulus hummed, his eyes narrowing in thought as he considered my proposition. "And what kind of lifestyle can I and my children expect after you turn seventeen? I won't have us reduced to effectively beggars so that you may prove you have the where with all to cut 'unnecessary expenses.'"

I mulled the question over, "Right now, I'll assure you that as long as you're not fabulously extravagant, what little I know of the Black accounts is sufficient for me to say that I will allow a comfortable lifestyle with several not-excessive comforts. I will, after all, be living here for days (or possibly weeks at a time) and would not want to needlessly antagonize you or Tarry and Virgo."

Regulus opened his mouth to object, but I held up a hand.

"Although you might be more comfortable with a more strict financial agreement, we'll have to wait a few days until we both have a chance to look over the finances and discuss the issue. I think that should be enough for right now, don't you?"

Regulus looked at me searchingly for a long moment, but eventually nodded. "We'll need to visit Gringotts in the next few days. Although the regency is fairly simple in theory, there is a great deal of paperwork we'll need to file with the goblins. We can take a look at the books then. Do you think your mother and father are really going to allow you so much free reign in this situation?"

I sighed, rubbing at my forehead tiredly. "Father is...abstaining himself from the situation, largely. Mother is, despite your lack of regard for her at the moment, sympathetic to your plight. I'm not completely sure what to expect from either of them, truthfully. As my regent, you'll need to be watchful of them both."

I shook my head, regretting the next point I was going to make, but knowing it had to be made. "Then there's the fact that Walburga was rather...open with her dislike of Virgo and Tarry."

Regulus' jaw clenched as I let the statement hang for a moment.

"This means that we can both expect...repercussions." I grimaced. "Given the fact that Walburga elected me as her heir, I think it has given certain individuals enough clues to piece together that your children, though you've legitimized them, are half-bloods born out of wedlock."

Regulus slumped and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, "Damn it mother..." He was silent for a time before finally raising a searching gaze to me. "They have friends in your social circle. Those Carrow girls, the Greegrass brat, that...Harper boy that Virgo likes to pester at your parties. This isn't going to make life easier for them."

My expression firmed. "I'll take care of it."

Regulus' gaze narrowed, "Just like that?"

I snorted, "'Just like that?' No, it's going to be a pain in the...rump, but I'll deal with it. Virgo and Tarry are my friends, it's my problem, you already have enough problems to worry about."

Left unsaid was the fact that Regulus would owe me one for covering his children in a way which he was handicapped by his own adulthood. He probably understood, also, how big the favor was...children in general and pureblood brats especially could be vicious little bastards.

There was a certain look of admiration in my regent's eyes as he responded. "You probably have more loyalty in your little pinky than your father has in his whole body, Desdemona. Especially if you follow through with that promise."

I rolled my eyes, the disrespectful motion oddly nostalgic as I fought a two-part flush of flattery and irritation from the compliment-insult. "Father's loyalty...is a two-way road, I'm coming to understand. "

There was a beat of silence, much like the prior night, where we each settled into the idea of where we stood in regards to the other and digested out respective thoughts. If not equal...then at least we could relate to each other.

"If my father could hear the next head of the Black family," Regulus shook his head, then pursed his lips. "I feel as though I need to ask something, though I'm unsure if it possible to ask without offending you is some manner."

I blinked, looking at Regulus oddly. "...I'm not sure how to respond to such a statement."

Regulus scowled at the space above my head, the expression thoughtful rather than angry. "Perhaps I'd best get it over with then." His gaze retracted from that far away stare and focused in on me. "Desdemona Malfoy, I understand with painful clarity that children given our upbringing think and act far more mature than their age would imply, but you do not merely act maturely, you are so."

I swallowed my nervousness and blocked it with a practiced mental 'push.'

"Your diction, pose, the stillness and quietness you possess as opposed to the normal constant, unsettled motion of young children...all of these things and others have indicated to me that you are not only a genius." He paused here, as I tried to calm myself while his accusations weighed heavily on my mind. "I don't understand you, I suppose is the point I'm trying to make."

He wasn't done, though, as his gaze bored into mine and, with a cool casualness, carefully dissected and disassembled my now-tenuous web of lies and misdirection. "...and I need to, if I'm to trust you as you as asking. Children, no matter how intelligent, no matter how insightful, should not be comfortable around an adult drinking himself to intoxication, much less be able to hold an entire conversation with them. You act like an adult, you talk like an adult, and I have no idea what to make of it."

I should have been panicking by this point, and I probably was...on some level, but mostly?

I slumped slightly, sighing as looked away from the older man.

All the planning and preparation in the world can only ready you so much for inevitably being called out on your deceptions. The feeling of exhaustion from the week prior flowed back ten-fold and, for a brief moment, I was truly tempted to tell Regulus everything...but, I couldn't trust the man quite enough. Not yet.

Hopefully, though, I wouldn't have to part with a few precious nuggets of truth without something in return.

...and there was something Regulus possessed which I dearly wanted, something which I could justify selling my pride for.

"I-" I croaked, then cleared my throat of it's sudden roughness. "I...believe I understand. I am, I suppose, different than my...age group. I'll...explain, as best I'm able, but I'd like something in exchange. A mark of trust on your part, to me."

Regulus was searching me, his eyes probing over my slumped and defeated posture and, doubtless, mulling over my attempt at negotiation which had come out as more of a plea. My pride bristled at the thought, but I forced down that spark of defiance. If Regulus need to establish some kind of petty dominance in our relationship to feel comfortable dealing with me...I'd do it. I'd swallow my pride just enough.

"What?" Regulus asked as he leaned back in his chair, a neutral expression on his face.

I swallowed and nodded to myself. There was really only one thing Regulus could tell me that held any true value which I couldn't get from any other source. "I...want to know about the Death Eaters."

Regulus paled and flinched as if I'd struck him, nearly leaping from his seat as he moved to pace the room. "I would have thought I'd given you more than enough tales while I was..." He made an ambiguous motion with his hand.

"It's the one thing I can't ask Mother or Father," I explained, a bit of a whine creeping into my voice. "I want to know...why they fought the war, why they didn't keep fighting after the Dark Lord vanished, if it really was a war for the good of wizards and witches as a whole."

Regulus grimaced and twisted about, clenching and releasing his fists, obviously full of nervous energy. "That...why?!" The adult ground out, looking harried.

I sighed. "Because I want to understand, because no one ever wants to talk about it, because there's no one else I can ask..."

Regulus slumped slightly where he stood, looking at me with an old, haunted expression, "Desdemona...it was not a good time in anyone's lives. There are damn good reasons no one will talk about it. Your father might well and literally kill me if he knew I was contemplating talking about this."

I nodded, but kept my eyes on the floor.

A long, strained silence passed slowly.

"I'll...think about it, eventually" Regulus enunciated with something like physical pain. "If, and only if, your explanation is satisfactory."

I contemplated the bargain before me quietly, worrying my bottom lip.

"Okay," I almost whispered.

Regulus relaxed slightly.

"I suppose...are there more details to discuss regarding the regency?" I asked, standing up to work the blood flow back into my legs.

"I think we need to cover your...explanation, first," Regulus noted.

I eyed him from the corner of my gaze, deciding whether or not to see how far I could push things. I could truly surrender at this point and allow Regulus to dictate the terms of our...relationship, but...

If he wasn't going to even hide the fact that he would prolong our little exchange of information until he had no other option, I had little hope of ever acquiring the information I wanted...needed. I needed first-hand accounts of the Dark Lord's rise, desperately. I needed to be able to fill in the blank spaces that the books and newspapers left unfilled. More than that, though, I needed to understand why not a single one of Voldemort's followers hadn't searched for him.

Was it fear?

Was it cowardice?

What caused people who'd followed a man through more than ten years of hard conflict to vanish into the shadows? Honestly, I could think of a half-dozen reasons, but...

I needed to understand the Death Eaters of the Wizarding War...and what made them so different from those same people alive today. I needed ideas, plans, contingencies that I could rely on to slow or stop Voldemort's second rise. Regulus was in a position to deny me those things, starve me for information I couldn't get anywhere else due to the stigma of even mentioning the Dark Lord in our current society. Could I really be so blunt, brusque, and rude as to throw Regulus's offer of civilized discourse back in his face?

"I'll...think about it, eventually. If, and only if, your explanation is satisfactory."

'Huh, guess I am that much of a bitch...who'd have thought?'

Regulus' face darkened with an irritated flush, so I decided to soften the blow to his pride.

"Uncle Regulus...if you'd rather I act like a spoilt brat and pitch a fit for mother to squeeze every last knut from the Black vaults, I can. I'm attempting to meet you on even terms, as galling as that may be for you. I'm willing to open a productive discourse regarding almost anything, to treat you as an equal, to help you as needed...all I ask is that you do the same for me. Outside Grimmauld Place, treat me as the child I am, look down on me, demean me, but I won't have my future decided for me simply because it isn't convenient for you to have to treat me like an adult."

Regulus' face contorted through a series of strange expressions, eventually settling on an unreadable facade. I pushed forward, needing to say something, anything, needing to make some type of confession to someone or I felt as though I'd go insane.

Desdemona Malfoy's mask began to crack for the first time since I'd last cried in my mother's arms.

"I'm strange," I admitted. "It's why I try not to talk very much. I think my parents understand that I'm a bit...queer, odd, or even slightly bizarre. I see that many adults consider their a world which children cannot understand. Truthfully, I cannot begin to comprehend how it is that I have come to live in this world. I stand with one foot in childhood and one foot in adulthood, and I cannot explain it, but I will not have that used against me. I will not allow you to make me ashamed of who I am."

Feeling something strange, I reached up to touch the sudden, clear liquid spouting from the corners of my eyes. As I looked back to Regulus, the man wore an abashed expression and wouldn't meet my gaze.

"I...need a moment," I breathed quietly, pushing past him and into the hallway, intent on reaching the restroom before I broke down for real.

I didn't pay a shocked and worried-looking Virgo any mind at all as I slammed the door shut and fell to the floor weeping silently. Desdemona Malfoy's mask shattered, and I went with it, crumbling to pieces in a release of desperate emotion.

In Bad Faith

I collapsed onto my bed, mentally and physically exhausted.

The rest of my time with Regulus hadn't been very productive. We'd talked awkwardly of inconsequential things, meaningless little topics like which room was going to be made available for me during my time at the Black home. Probably shaken by the guilt of making a child, no matter how mature, cry, he'd given me Walburga's master bedroom and private water closet. By that point, I hadn't cared enough to really argue.

I still wasn't sure what Regulus would do with the revelations that confirmed my...abnormality, but I'd given nothing really important away in our conversation. If push came to shove and he told my parents, I could spin it as a personal attack on me compelled by jealousy and envy...and Regulus probably understood that as well.

I sighed, turning my head from where it had been face-down in a pillow, "Must you play with my hair?"

"But its so soft and silky," Hestia whispered, brushing a hand across my scalp and down the length of the white blond strands.

I whimpered.

That had felt...so good.

"Oooh, she likes it," Flora giggled, repeating the motion.

I'd honestly balked at the idea of having the Carrow twins over after my extremely stressful day. A nearly-scalding bath and a warm meal had helped rid me of both my emotional exhaustion and physical, though the situation with Regulus was still unlikely to be resolved anytime soon. Now that I was reasonably sure my newborn political problems wouldn't stab me in my back, though, I'd also been able to truly relax for the first time in a week.

Unfortunately, I'd also managed to forget that Hestia and Flora had scheduled a sleep over for the night.

"...she really does like it," Hestia replied quietly.

I let out a soft purr as the two took to running their fingers over my scalp and down my hair. If I'd been anything more than bone-tired and nearly asleep on my feet, I'd have stopped the two little menaces, but...

Well, it really did feel good.

"I'm tiiiiired," I whined. "Lemme sleeep."

The Carrows giggled again, an eerie noise that I enjoyed despite the fact that it made my neck-hairs stand on end. It was the creepy sound that I'd heard echo between trees in scary movies during my last life.

Maybe my sanity had taken a hit in addition to my common sense?

"She's all...floppy," Flora stated, raising one of my arms and letting it 'flop' back to the bed. "Mmm...you know, she doesn't play with us as much anymore. Dezzy's always tired these days, she's doing too much."

"Sorry," I managed quietly, feeling bad at the realization that they were right. I hadn't really seen much of these particular twins recently, due to my packed schedule. I sighed and leveraged my tired body up. My posture was horrible, but I wasn't in any right state to play the pureblood princess anyway. "What do you two want to do?"

Hestia and Flora exchanged looks and broke out into identical grins and speaking as one, "Magic!"

I recovered enough energy to fake a groan and roll my eyes, "Alright! But I'm not getting up from this bed, go get my things."

The two younger girls scurried off to fulfill my orders as I struggled to make myself comfortable in my overstuffed and extra-soft bed. Now sitting upright and leaning against my headboard, cushioned by a set of pillows, I accepted elegantly carved wooden lap desk Hestia set over my legs, as well as the thick text and smaller notebook which Flora placed into my hands. Finally, they each handed over newly-sharpened quill, a well of ink, and a thick set of parchment sheets.

Eagerly, the Carrow sisters placed themselves on either side of me and quieted.

If their parents knew they could behave themselves like this...I wonder if they'd pay me to babysit instead of their tutors?

The girls weren't exactly the ideal pureblood children. They had a bit too much...spirit. A charitable soul would call them 'mischievous,' though victims of their specific brand of mischief might be less complimentary. I'd once been asked to wait as the two finished their lessons and had been outwardly appalled (and inwardly amused) when they'd come running from their tutor as they laughed like jackals. The man himself had trailed behind them, red in the face and limping badly.

I had decided not to ask.

"Dobby!" I called sharply.

"Miss Dezzy called?" The house elf asked, appearing with a muted 'pop.'

"Yes," I nodded, giing the elf a small smile. "Could you bring us a tray of biscuits and three cups of cocoa? Please?"

Dobby's head bobbed excitedly, "Yes Miss Dezzy, Dobby will bring them right away!"

"Thank you," I replied sincerely. The sugar and hot liquid might be a bit of a help in keeping me awake.

Moments later, my friends and I were ensconced on my bed as Dobby fidgeted nervously and waited to be dismissed. I grinned slightly and looked at the elf, "Dobby, if you're not busy, you're welcome to watch as well."

Hestia and Flora turned to look at me in surprise as the elf's eyes widened and turned suspiciously shiny. "Oh, no Miss! Dobby has...chores to be doing! Yes, chores!"

And the elf disappeared.

I sighed and shook my head. Even though Dobby was a bit more willing to treat me like an equal than the other elves of the manor (who were all devoted to my family to the point of embarrassment), I still couldn't get him to really interact with me on any real level beyond the roles of master and servant...even if we were much more polite and courteous to each other than the norm of our inter-species relationships dictated.

"Why are you so nice to it?" Hestia asked, her tone slightly arch.

"Mommy says elves aren't worth politeness," Flora concurred, nodding.

I sighed and bit back an angry retort, opting to dispense wisdom instead of alienate my friends. "How much gold does it cost to say 'please' or 'thank you?' How many galleons do you waste each time you are nice to anyone...whether they're an elf, or a goblin, or even a centaur?"

The twins blinked, confused at my seemingly random change of topic.

"It was a trick question," I tried, "Courtesy costs you nothing to give, but may cost you everything to withhold. We're purebloods...we're the best of society, right? The wealthiest, the most powerful, the landed...we have everything, right?"

Now the two nodded, still silent.

"Then...it shouldn't matter if you're nice or mean to someone," I stated, leading them to an answer, "right?"

They nodded again.

"That's why we don't have have to be polite, though," Flora replied.

"Yeah, they aren't witches and wizards like us, they can't do magic with wands, they aren't much better than muggles," Hestia affirmed.

"But doesn't it make you feel better?" I pressed, my gaze alternating between the two. "Besides, we're supposed to set the example for everyone else. If we're mean to muggleborns and magical creatures, they might be mean to each other and then we'd have to stop them fighting, right? Because if they're fighting each other, then the goblins can't guard our money. The muggleborns won't be able to work for us. We should be nice to them so that they're nice to each other and can work for us instead of just being mean to each other and fighting all the time."

If you can't appeal to someone's good nature, then appeal to their vices. If they don't understand generosity or charity, they will understand greed and selfishness.

It was as though a light went on inside their eyes, their expressions suddenly brightening and small exclamations of 'ooh' and 'ahh,' emitting from their mouths. In that moment, I remembered why I had wanted to be a teacher so long ago. At least I wouldn't have to worry about defending Tarry and Virgo from the Carrows. Although they weren't as 'tame' as Crabbe and Goyle, Hestia and Flora followed my lead where necessary. Regardless, I'd probably have a little 'chat' with them sometime soon about being especially nice to the Blacks.

I smiled and, as they began to work through their revelation, I inked my quill and began to free-hand sketch the rune sowilo and surround it with a celtic-knot binding, flanked by a set of two 'power' runes and two 'control' runes from the Elder Futhark's magical side of the alphabet.

"Is that the...light one?" Hestia asked quietly, her eyes wide and her voice thrilled.

"Mmm," I hummed, nodding. "This is sowilo, the rune for the sun. I'm using it to mean 'light' in this circle and I'm going to add circles with ansuz and raido, which refer to the ancient Celtic gods and the concept of 'journey,' respectively. I'm using them to mean 'the heavens' or 'above us' and 'movement,' instead of their classic definitions."

I paused, giving the designs time to dry. The original circle was now spread out into three different circles, blending together with an intertwined binding.

Looking at Hestia and Flora, I narrowed my gaze. "Now, what are my rules?"

The twins sighed simultaneously.

"Don't try to do any runes without your help," Flora repeated dully. "If we do, you won't teach us anymore and we could get really hurt."

"Don't tell mommy or daddy," Hestia added, "Because they'd think its too dangerous and wouldn't let us learn. Then you'd get in trouble for teaching us and couldn't study anymore."

"Good," I nodded, re-inking my quill and getting back to work. "You've seen me use this circle before, what does it do?"

"It lights things up!" Flora squeaked excitedly, her eyes locked on the design. "It makes lights and colors and things above us. Its wicked!"

I smiled. 'Wicked' was as good a description as any, I suppose. This was a little more complicated than my first circle, the one the Carrow twins had interrupted me activating years ago. It was, in the grand scheme of things, still relatively simple and would only be worth anything as a particularly interesting nightlight, even if I added an array which would let it 'charge' and run without my personal attention and control. In a pinch, I might be able to leverage it as a flash-grenade with proper time and planning.

It was about the most complicated thing I could put together at this stage.

Granted, I could usually pull of the equivalent of a runic levitation charm and something that had a similar result to a cleaning charm, but those had to be mapped out in advance and carefully drawn to mathematical precision before I'd even chance working with them. Those requirements translated to hours of work for each array...and each array could, in turn, only be used once before burning out the paper and ink's abilities to channel the magical effects.

But this?

I felt confident I'd mastered this, at least.

"Now," I started, settling in for a small lecture as I added another circle around the entire design, fusing it together in to a single array, "this is a kind of runic construction known as Clustering. Other people like to use lines or script, but I prefer this way, it gives you more...freedom, but it also makes the array a lot more reliant on you to control it, do you understand?"

Hestia and Flora hesitated, then nodded.

"That means you control the array. You control all of the runes. You control whether it does or doesn't work. If you lose concentration, it won't work, okay?" I explained pointedly.

Another set of nods, after that same hesitation.

Its nice to know that they're thinking about it, at least.

"Now, to activate a circle like this, you need a chant, but you also need to think about what you want to happen. In this type of rune-work, you make the magic happen." I said sternly, grimly serious as I tried to intimate the gravity of the situation.

They nodded again, apparently understanding.

I raised my voice slightly and said, "Nox." The word extinguished the candles around my room, leaving myself and my friends in complete darkness. I smiled slightly as they moved closer to me.

Taking a deep breath, I focused, reaching out to my magic. It wasn't a 'core' as so many had explained it in my last world...magic flowed like blood through the body of a witch or wizard, constantly moving and changing. To 'use' magic was to channel that energy, usually through a focus.

"I saw the sun at night,

I beheld the glow of the heavens,

With my own eyes, light curled,

And danced. Nimbus, Corona,

Shooting Star. At my will,

I beheld night turned into day."

The words didn't really mean anything. It was a chant that I'd been conditioned to believe had magical power, though it was really just a tool to focus with, just as the runic array was. I pushed the thought into the back of my mind and focused on what I wanted to happen.

A spiral of blue light whispered up into the air above my bed, moving as if it were alive. Hestia and Flora breathed in deeply as they watched, their eyes widening as I observed them from the edge of my vision. Suddenly, the blue light curled up, brightening to a a dim white before shattering into a hundred miniature stars spread about my ceiling and walls.

If I hadn't been directing the display, the most I would have gotten would have been a small white 'flame' of light, but...as I'd told the twins, I was in control...and my control was finer than most, I'd wager. My occlumency helped me stay clear-headed and focus as I directed the designs. The tiny particles of light and magic began to spin, twisting and spiraling to become intricate patterns.

Animals emerged, both real and imagined, highly abstract and only distantly related to their physical counterparts. The designs were stylized, an expression of my will rather than reality. As I watched them dance across the air, I concentrated further and the light constructs began to collapse, shattering back into the formless darkness.

Sparks of every color bloomed like some impossible field of wildflowers, moving and swaying with an invisible wind. Finally, after continuing the spectacle for several minutes, I allowed it to fade and dissipate one last time, relaxing as I did so. The sense of tiredness I'd tried to fight off came back with a vengeance, leaving me struggling to keep my eyes closed.

"Okay...that's all I've got for tonight," I whispered, my head drooping onto Flora's shoulder.

Or was it Hestia's?

Giving up my half-hearted struggle, I allowed the lap-desk to be pulled away and slid down into the too-soft cushions of my bed. I let myself finally fall into slumber as I felt soft fingers slide over my scalp, a vague and happy sound in my chest, much like a cat purring.