"Remus?" Dumbledore repeated, surprised by the appearance. Remus himself was unsure, motioning to the podium, "Do I just-" Intimidated by all the stares from the wizengamot, he hurriedly stepped up, "Right..okay.."
"Remus Lupin?" A voice inquired from the stands.
"Yes, that's..that's me." The scarred wizard raised his hand, feeling awkward, "Um..present?"
He heard a derogatory whisper in the crowd, "Should we be listening to a halfbreed?"
Amalthea took a few steps towards him, redirecting his focus to her, "Mr. Lupin, how did you know my uncle?"
"I met him my first night at Hogwarts, he and James had already bonded on the train, but we all stayed in the same dorm in Gryffindor." Remus's lips turned up into a slight smile as he revisited the memory, "James introduced himself, and we all followed. Next thing I know, we're all being called his best mates."
"In your opinion-"
"He didn't do it." Remus interrupted her, catching her by surprise, as well as by the rest of the court. Dumbledore's expression was stiff as he addressed Remus, "Mr. Lupin, please allow Ms. Black to finish her questioning. Take time to think of your answers."
"Apologies, sir." Remus replied, but his intense stare into Amalthea's eyes showed no remorse, "Ask your question, Ms. Black."
She was unable to look away from the molten gold blending into the amber eyes, "Why don't you think he did it?"
"Ms. Black, that was not your-"
"Because it was Peter." Remus replied with a low tone, "Peter Pettigrew was the secret keeper."
There it was. The whole room exploded into shouting protests, but Remus was unfazed, holding strong under the criticism.
"LIES! He's dead!"
"Black killed Pettigrew!"
"It's true!" Remus shouted above them all, his voice echoing in the chambers, "I saw him, I'm a witness!"
"SILENCE." Dumbledore echoed over the crowd once again, silencing the cries. Amalthea gathered herself in the beat of silence, taking a deep breath before addressing the court, "Mr. Lupin is a witness, and he is willing to provide evidence."
"And what is this evidence you are proposing?" Dumbledore asked calmly, his eyes piercing into her own. She held the gaze, "You're a skilled Legilimens, aren't you, Chief Warlock?"
"Such impudence!" A wizard hissed from the court.
Dumbledore stared at the pools of grey, resisting the urge to push further into her mind, "I would say I am an accomplished Legilimens, yes. Are you requesting my services?"
She flashed him a wink, her eyes practically twinkling with mirth, "If you wouldn't mind, sir."
He rose from his podium, his gaze turning cold as he faced Remus, "And you consent, Mr. Lupin?"
"I do." Remus's word was final, no hesitation.
They all waited with bated breath as Dumbledore delved into Remus's mind, their gazes locked. Remus was flung back in the chair, gripping the sides, his teeth gritting as he held the connection.
Amalthea backed up, steadying herself with the obsidian armrest as she waited nervously. Sirius placed his hand over hers that rested on the chair, watching the scene with a heaviness in his chest. As the silence grew longer, her pulse began racing, jumping like a rabbit beneath the skin. If he noticed, he said nothing.
Then, as if the room had regained life, Remus fell back in the chair, the connection broken. Dumbledore closed his eyes quickly, attempting to gather his thoughts. Not a single soul spoke, awaiting the great wizard's decree. What had he seen?
He took a pause, before turning to look at the rest of the Wizengamot, speaking with a level tone, "This memory will be submitted as evidence." Amalthea controlled her expression, not wanting to seem too pleased, allowing a small smile. He turned to her next, a silent rage beneath the cool blue, "Sirius Black will be placed on house arrest until the next trial."
She heard her Uncle's sigh of relief and she felt a warmth grow inside her chest. She actually did it. She saved him.
"Until then.. DISMISSED!" Dumbledore rose his hand in the air, and there was a wave of cold air that washed over the whole Wizengamot. Suddenly, like in a hive mind, the Wizengamot rose and exited through the doors.
Amalthea bowed her head in thanks to the Chief Warlock, turning to her uncle with a smirk, "Looks like you'll be my charge until then." Sirius gave her a grin before rising to pull her into a tight hug, bowing his head to her ear to whisper, "I'm sorry for what I said, love..." He squeezed her tighter to his chest, "I'm so proud of you..Reggie would be too.."
She felt the air leave her lungs, whether it was from the mention of her father or the strength of her uncle's hugs, she did not know. She felt a wetness form at the edge of her eyes, and she whispered back, "Thank you.."
As Remus approached the duo, he had a lively smile, though it quickly fell at the sight of the burly auror coming their way. Amalthea let out a cry as Sirius was suddenly ripped from her, leaving her to stumble forward, "W-What!?" The Auror slapped cuffs over Sirius's wrists, holding him away from the young girl.
Remus hurried to her side, grabbing her hand to stabilize her, "What is happening?"
"Mr. Black is under house arrest, and he will be escorted to a safe house until the trial. But sadly this means he's not a suitable guardian for the time being.." Dumbledore spoke coolly as he approached them, cleaning his half moon glasses with the edge of his robe. Amalthea glared in his direction, her lips pressed firmly together as she held back the rage forming in her chest. He offered her a warm smile, "I will admit, I am surprised to meet you, Ms. Black. Hogwarts knows of every magical child registered with the Ministry of the Magic, and until now, I have not heard of your existence."
Sirius shared a worried look with Remus, not trying to fight against the Auror. As much as he regretted the situation, he knew he couldn't create a scene when he was so close to freedom. He had to think of Harry, who was still waiting for him. Amalthea held her own, her tone controlled as she replied, "That would be because I wasn't registered."
The twinkle returned to Dumbledore's eyes, motioning to the doors, "Then if you wouldn't mind following me, Ms. Black?" Without waiting for her, he began heading out. Amalthea held her ground, her hand tightening around the cane, "Where are we going?"
He gave her a confused look over his shoulder, "Why to your ministry appointment, of course. It wouldn't do good to be late, however fashionably." He waved to her dress, as if trying to appease her ego.
She was quick to shake her head, "I did not set up another appointment."
"Oh no, I did. It's unsuitable for a child to be living alone, so we've got a temporary guardian who's offered to take you in."
Sirius was confused, before it sank in, her nearest relative would be..
"She has a son your age, Narcissa Malfoy, though you may know her as her maiden name, Black."
"No.." Sirius whispered, looking at them with wide eyes, "No..she can't go there.." The Auror began to lead him away, and his heart leapt in his throat, "N-No..Remus!" But he knew Remus couldn't actually do anything, especially after being outed, no one would allow a magical child stay with a werewolf.
Amalthea heard her Uncle's protests, and she did her best to remain calm. This was only temporary, after all. She had heard of Narcissa, but it was a toss-off comment from her grandmother, "Silly girl sold her family name, massacred her hair, all for that Malfoy. Then she dares to try to claim her son as a Black."
Seeing Dumbledore was still waiting for her by the doors, she ignored the tightness in her chest, gathering her skirts and following after him.
"So, Ms. Black, before we turn you over, we're going to have to place the trace on you." The ministry official explained to her patiently. At the mention of the trace, Amalthea tensed, not enjoying the idea of the Ministry tracking her magic usage.
"Can I perhaps opt out?"
The official chuckled, shaking his head, "No, my dear, you cannot." The tightness in her chest twisted deeper as she simply gave a nod, swallowing down her protests. She knew it would get her nowhere. Dumbledore stood in the corner of the room, his eyes burning into her skull.
"This won't hurt a bit."
There was a wand pointed at her head, and the world around her began to become muffled. She let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes to try and remain calm. It was just all too much. She didn't know these men, and one was pointing a wand at her head. She wanted her uncle again, she wanted to go back home.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy! Thank you for taking the time to come down to my office.." The ministry official had a pleasing tone, practically bowing over in the wizard's presence. A small gust of wind pushed her veil back down, and she knew it had to be Kreacher, there was no point of entry for real wind.
"Yes, well, Narcissa was so worried about her little cousin, you see.." His voice was sharp, it reminded her of the cold steel of her sword. How it felt when it sliced a thin cut in the skin. That was the feeling she got from him, and as she looked towards him, she saw his appearance matched. He was like a cold marble statue, beautiful to look at, but there wasn't an ounce of compassion behind those blue eyes.
Standing up gracefully, she gathered all of their attention, bowing at the waist delicately while lifting her skirts, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Malfoy, I am eternally grateful for your offering of your home."
He raised a surprised brow at her appearance, "Well, I see Walburga has instilled some proper manners in you, dear girl. You may call me Lucius, and you are?" The adults in the room watched almost in awe as she moved with almost inhuman gracefulness, lifting her veil. Her grey eyes shimmered in the light, a gentle smile on her lips as she introduced herself, "I am Amalthea Violetta Black, daughter of Regulus Black." At that, she placed out her hand, hung delicately in the air.
Dumbledore noticed she left out her title this time, and he wondered why, could it be that she felt threatened by Malfoy? Lucius stepped forward, taking her hand in his and bent his back, placing a soft kiss on the skin, "A pleasure, Ms. Black." She shot him a sly smile, "Please, call me Amalthea." For a brief moment, she mirrored her grandmother, Walburga. He could still see the piercing gaze of the woman, reflected in the young girls eyes.
"Right." He gathered himself, allowing her hand to fall, "Then shall we go?" He planted his cane on the ground, making a clack loud enough that had the ministry official jumping. Amalthea hummed softly, "Indeed.." She went to the desk, grabbing her cane and slamming it on the ground, watching the official jump with hidden satisfaction, "This office suddenly feels very claustrophobic."
Lucius wanted to question the girl's choice of accessory for a moment, recognizing the cane as the Lord Black's, but he decided it would be best that it was done in private. Giving Dumbledore a sneer, he turned away and headed out of the office. Amalthea followed behind him, not sparing another glance to the wizards behind her.
Dumbledore let out a sigh when they disappeared from sight, shaking his head. It was his idea, so why did he have a bad feeling about this?
The feeling of apparating was a sensation she was not prepared for, the feeling of being pulled through a tiny keyhole and spat back out at a dizzying pace. When they landed, she fell down onto the grass, her stomach swirling around painfully. At the sight of the young witch, Lucius let out a tsk, turning to the manor before them, "First apparition?"
She took in deep breaths, trying her best to not puke out her guts. In between breaths, she managed out, "Yes sir.." But the very sensation of using her voice made her stomach lurch again.
"Well, pick yourself up. Narcissa is awaiting you in the tearoom." With that, he walked towards the manor, leaving her behind. She swallowed down the bile in her throat, pushing herself up on her feet with a stumble. Oh how she missed Kreacher. She knew he couldn't apparate with them, and he was tasked with taking Buckbeak back to the manor, which meant she was alone for now. She brushed the grass blades from her skirt and steadied her steps as she followed after him.
He led her inside the manor, and she allowed her gaze to wander. It was practically the opposite of Grimmauld Place, light wood and sunshine illuminating every corner. It made her miss the dark candlelight of her room. Once they reached a set of ornate white doors, Lucius motioned for her to step inside, "And this is where I leave you." Without waiting for her response, he turned away, heading further down the halls.
As his footsteps faded away, she became aware of the tightness in her chest again, taking in a short breath before pushing the door open. At a decorated table, sunshine illuminating and glinting off the silver, was Narcissa Malfoy. The woman looked almost like the female version of Lucius, so creepily alike in looks. She had stark white hair, her features were sharp and boney with cool blue eyes, and a relaxed expression upon her face. The peace left the witch however, all at the sight of Amalthea entering.
She was quick to introduce herself to the woman, bowing at the waist once again, "Lady Malfoy, it is a pleasure. I am Amalthea.." Narcissa observed her, placing her hand out to her, "Come closer, dear. Let me look at you."
As Amalthea approached the opposite chair, she saw it slide out. Peering over the side, she saw a small elf in a pair of rags.
"What are you waiting for? Sit."
She followed her command quickly, sitting herself in the ornate chair. Narcissa seemed pleased, leaning on the table as she took her in, "My, my.." Amalthea held her gaze, keeping a neutral expression. Narcissa hummed, picking up a scone, "You are quite a beauty, I'll give you that."
"Thank you, Lady Malfoy."
"Call me Narcissa. We're family after all." She said, biting into the scone. Taking that as her cue to begin eating, Amalthea picked up her teacup and took a gentle sip. As she did, she felt the intense stare from Narcissa, and she had no choice but to return it, raising a dark brow, "Yes, cousin Narcissa?"
The blonde woman shot her a warm smile, a strange contrast to her cold appearance, "Sorry, you just look so much like.." There was a sadness in her eyes, and she reached across the table to take her hand, "Did you hear much of your father?"
Amalthea shook her head, sparing their hands an awkward glance, "No.." She found the contact a bit uncomfortable, though she was sure she could get over it, "Grandmother kept discussion short." Narcissa tsked at that, taking her hand away to stir her tea, "Of course, Aunt Walburga could be very cold."
Amalthea offered a small smile in her direction, picking up a cookie from the tray and taking a nibble. Narcissa observed her curiously, seeming to hesitate for a moment before speaking again, "So, after Aunt Walburga passed, who took charge of you?"
There it was. Amalthea went still, her eyes downcast to the table, thinking carefully of her answer. She supposed the truth would have to do, though she didn't enjoy showing her cards so soon. Placing the cookie on her plate, she took in a breath before looking back up, "The house elves Grandmother hired, I also had Grandmother's portrait for council and guidance."
Narcissa's eyes widened in shock, losing grip of her spoon, making a loud clatter against the porcelain. At the sound, Amalthea looked at her worry, "Cousin, are you quite alright?" The older woman placed a hand to her head, blonde curls falling from her tightly slicked bun, "My..I'm sorry dear, I just.. I'm trying to grasp your words." She looked at the girl again, her brows furrowed together deeply, "You are saying that you were locked in that house alone for.."
"Oh, only four years." Amalthea said it airily, as if waving off the idea. Narcissa for the first time took in the girl's appearance. The veil, the elegant but ancient dress, and the cane sitting next to the side of the chair. These clothes were not her own, but Walburga's. She looked like she was from another era entirely.
At that, she stood suddenly, making the table shake. Pushing her curls back behind her ears, she turned to her personal elf, Mipsy, "Notify Lucius that we'll be out for the evening." Mipsy gave a bow before apparating out. Amalthea looked confused, standing with her, "Are we going somewhere, cousin?"
"Mmhm!" Narcissa took her hands, looking down at her with a smile, "I was thinking how long it's been since I've had a shopping trip! Draco is grown and prefers to shadow his father nowadays, so I have no child to doll up anymore. Would you like to have a girl's day with me?"
"Where are we going? London?"
"Oh goodness no, not for a new wardrobe, we're going to Paris."
"Cette robe va cintrer la taille, très petite fille!" The attendant complimented Amalthea as she stood before the dressing room's mirror. She managed a small, "Merci.." But she was much too distracted by the dress she was wearing. The dress was champagne white, rigidly structured, cinched tight at the waist and built out almost in points around the hips, it had odd stitching that swirled around in patterns. She wore a stiff petticoat beneath, the sleeves reaching her mid-elbow, and the round collar creating a deep opening that stopped above the bust. The bottom of the skirt stopped by her knees, and her legs were exposed to the cool air.
She caught Narcissa in the mirror, looking her over with a pleased smile, "White is definitely your color, my dear. Do you like it?" Amalthea looked down at her midsection, "Where is the corset in this?"
"There isn't one."
At that, she had a small smile, "Then I love it."
"Wonderful!" Narcissa clapped her hands in excitement, turning to call the attendants, "Apportez le prochain Dior! Et de nouveaux talons, s'il vous plait!" She let out a happy sigh as she saw them pick out new dresses, rushing over to Amalthea's side, "After this, we'll go to Le Paradis Des Sorcières for your dress robes."
"Dress robes?" Amalthea stepped down from the platform, being ushered into the stall by the attendants, "For what?"
Narcissa sat herself on the leather chaise, taking a glass of wine offered to her from an attendant, "The Yule Ball, of course, it's taking place at Hogwarts this year."
"Am I going to this ball?" Amalthea's voice came from the stall, the sound of clothes shifting around muffling her slightly. Narcissa chuckled, "But of course! But don't worry, I'm sure Draco will escort you if you do not find a suitor for it."
"But I don't go to Hogwarts?" Amalthea said in a questioning tone, the door opening, revealing her in a spring green evening dress, with ruched off-shoulder sleeves. The older witch let out a pleased hum, "This is most definitely a yes. Préposé! Gardez ça, s'il vous plaît!"
The young teen sighed as she walked towards the mirror, her matching green heels clicking on the marble floors, "Cousin Narcissa, I don't attend Hogwarts." She stood before the mirror and did a small spin, admiring how the color looked on her pale skin.
"Yes, but you're joining this year, dear."
At that, Amalthea spun around to face her cousin, "Wait..I'm going to Hogwarts?"
"Yes, dear. I enrolled you this morning." Narcissa turned to the attendant who held a yellow gown in her hands, "Oh, oui!" Amalthea felt her chest begin to tighten, and she hurried off the platform. As she passed the attendant to head into the stall, she held her hand up to reject the gown, "Non, pas de jaune."
When the door shut, she tried to work through the panic, letting the attendants remove the evening dress from her form. She felt trapped, the stall was practically suffocating her. She wanted to go home. She wanted Kreacher. She didn't want to go to Hogwarts.
As the attendants slipped the next dress over her head, she let out a cough, feeling her chest suck inward for a moment. Narcissa's voice came, "Dear, do you need some water?"
"No.." Amalthea coughed again, trying to suck in air into her lungs, "I-I'm okay."
By the time the shopping trip was over, Amalthea was worn out, returning to the Manor with slow and sluggish steps. Her face was pale and covered in a cold sweat. Narcissa was practically floating, calling out to her as she headed up the stairs, "Dinner will be at ten, be sure to wash up before then!" She didn't wait for a reply, hurrying upstairs to put away her own bags.
Amalthea let out a ragged cough, grabbing onto a chair to stabilize herself. As she breathed in, she heard the obvious wheeze. She needed her medicine. She needed Kreacher. Falling to her knees, she let out another cough, a deep rattle sound coming from her chest.
She felt the struggle to breathe begin, and the panic began setting in. She reminded herself to stay calm, trying to sit upright and take in gulps of air, but as her chest grew tighter, she was taken over in fear. Digging her nails into the leather armrest, she gagged and tried to call out for Narcissa. She should have told her. Why didn't she tell her? Tears formed at the edges of her eyes, and a strangled noise left her, her grip growing weaker on the chair.
There was the sound of a crack behind her, and she finally let go of the chair, her body falling to the ground with a dull thud.
"M..s…ress!" She heard a familiar voice call out, Kreacher. Looking through her blurry vision, she saw something that looked like a serpent slithering across the marble floor, heading out of the drawing room and towards the stairs.
She lost sight of it as Kreacher turned her head upright, mist forming over her face in a cloud. Slowly, her chest began to loosen, and after a few more sprays, she was able to speak, "K-Kreacher.." He looked very worried, shaking his head, "Mistress..Kreacher was late-" He was silenced by the tight hug she pulled him in, tears falling down onto his shoulder, "I missed you.."
When she got herself together, she pulled back and spared a glance to the stairs. There was nothing there. Looking back at Kreacher, she wiped her cheeks, asking him softly, "Kreacher did you see a snake when you apparated in?"
"No, Mistress. It was only Young Mistress and Kreacher."
She looked back at the stairs, furrowing her brows in confusion, "I could have sworn.." But she decided to let it go, it must have been a hallucination from the lack of air. Shaking her head, she turned back to him, "Nevermind, could you help me get ready for dinner?"
Staring at her reflection, she noticed her lips regained their color. She was wearing a dark velvet blue dress that Narcissa bought her, pairing a delicate silver chain and earrings with it. Kreacher braided her curls into a long plaited braid, the end of it resting above her tailbone. Grabbing her cane, she took a deep breath, feeling the difference in how loose it felt compared to all day.
As if clockwork, there was a soft knock at her door, Mipsy's voice ringing in, "Miss Amalthea, Mistress and Master request your presence at dinner."
Kreacher snapped his fingers, going invisible next to her. She shot a smile in his direction before schooling her features, opening the door.
Mipsy escorted her to the dining room, where Narcissa and Lucius were already seated, along with a young boy that looked to be her age. Narcissa noticed her, and stood quickly with a smile, "Ah, Amalthea! You look lovely in your new dress!" The boy looked in her direction, raising a pale blonde brow curiously.
Amalthea ignored him, tapping her cane on the marble floor as she approached her seat, "Thank you, cousin Narcissa." Narcissa hummed happily, motioning to her son, "This is Draco, our son." At that, her eyes locked onto his, extending her hand to him, "A pleasure, cousin, I'm Amalthea."
Draco stood from his seat, slowly taking her hand and bowing at the waist, "Cousin Amalthea, the pleasure is all mine." She felt his lips make contact with the back of her hand, from the corner of her eye, she saw Narcissa sharing a knowing glance with Lucius. She was quick to rip her hand away from his, managing a tight smile, "I look forward to getting to know you."
When he looked up, she felt relief to see the irritation in his brow. He still plastered on the gentlemanly smile, motioning to her seat, "I'm sure you must be very tired, cousin, sit." She caught the end of his tone, it was a command.
"How empathetic of you, cousin." She replied coolly, lowering herself into her seat gracefully, "Perhaps you should extend your kindness to yourself and not stand on my accord." At that, he sat down, shooting narrow glares in her direction.