Chapter Thirty-Two
oooP1ooo
(Neville)
The early morning sun sat just above the tree line in the distance. It glinted off the remaining patches of snow on the fields yet to melt and the stained glass windows of Godric's Hollow's church.
Godric leaned against the public floo's wall and waited. A couple of magicals had passed him by without a second look, his hat keeping their attention away from him. Some of the children had looked familiar. He must have seen them at Hogwarts at some point.
The semester felt like it had been a very long time ago. It had only been a little over a week since leaving for the Holidays and being disowned. He wasn't entirely certain he wanted life to continue moving at such a twisting pace. Holidays were supposed to be relaxing. (And for family. Family was far too complicated nowadays.)
Godric's gaze slid from the view over to a man dressed rather eccentrically compared to the local muggles, and by the looks the muggles shot the man, it might be only slightly accurate muggle clothing. Said man kept stopping the other magicals and whispering at them authoritatively, which was rather impressive sounding from Godric's spot. Said man had glanced at Godric multiple times but had otherwise left him alone, likely due to his hat's magic.
It left Godric curious, though.
Nimue stepped out of the little public floo building, drawing Godric's gaze. He nodded at her as she glanced his way but her gaze was drawn to the other man. Godric wandered over to her as the eccentrically dressed man claimed her entire attention. Her back stiffened and she shifted uncomfortably as Godric reached her. He finally overheard most of the man's orders.
"–Ministry orders. You cannot just snoop around and expect the muggles to not notice you," hissed the man in a rush, "House Gryffindor's stupendous Manor is rumored to be in the area but the area is off-limits for tourists or busy buddies, certainly no journalists! You hear? Godric's Hollow is for residence only for the foreseeable future. So, off you go, back–"
"She's my cousin," Godric interrupted as Nimue gawked at the apparently undercover Ministry worker, "She's visiting me. Not snooping involved."
The man's face flushed red as he glared over at Godric.
Nimue stepped to his side and smiled reassuringly, "As he said! My cousin Nev." Then she added helpfully to the ministry worker, "You've a bug on your hat."
"Wha–" The man yanked his hat off and swung it around to knock the bug free.
Godric blinked at the nickname but went with it, "Come one Ni! Let's not linger." He tugged Nimue's arm, taking the distraction to get the fuck out of there.
As they reached the end of the roundabout, the ministry worked called after them. "Good! Off you go. No lollygagging about the village!"
A snort escaped Nimue. As they escaped the man's gaze, her stiff shoulders loosened and a faint giggle escaped a moment later.
He hummed questionly back.
"Aren't we going to the, uh, stupendous manor?" she muttered.
"We aren't snooping around for it…or lollygagging, at least," Godric noted dryly.
Nimue paused and looked over at him properly.
Godric paused with her and tilted his head in question.
She pursed her lips together as her humor fled. A nervous smile twisted free before she almost stuttered out in a rush, "Sorry for saying Nev. It should be Neville. Right? I just didn't think he needed to know you're, well, you–"
Godric nodded.
"–uh..right…good…um-um…" Her cheeks flushed red before she stated, "My father had wanted to come but I…uh..I asked him not to since you said this is a family meeting and he wasn't claimed by the House. I'm sorry if you were expecting him. He'd like to meet with you and talk things through at some point–"
Godric interrupted before she could continue to ramble, "You're right that this should be a meeting between us two only. I'll meet with him later if he still wants…" He nodded toward the lane they were already headed down. "It's a bit of a hike to reach the manor but I thought the walk might do us good while we talked." He paused before he added, "Sally's preparing things for us when we get there and I thought you'd appreciate a little time to ask questions and all before meeting him too."
Nimue shifted nervously on her feet but nodded, clearly uncertain where to begin.
Godric looked back the way they had come. He waved in the vague direction. "Not sure if you noticed the church but my father commissioned the stainglass windows in my honor. He and my mother and one of my sisters rest in the graveyard." He looked back at her with a crooked smile. "They weren't wrong in claiming I was born here. Doesn't mean they needed to rename the place after me but they weren't wrong…in this fact at least."
He turned and guided the redhead towards the long, roundabout hike up to the manor. As they neared the coast, the sounds of the waves became clear and highlighted the salt taste in the air.
There was likely another route to take but he liked this long, nature-filled walk. The cold, brisk air was refreshing and soothing. If he had wanted expediency, he could have told Nimue the floo passcode for the manor.
"Many of these buildings are located where the ones I knew were. Perhaps some of them are the exact same buildings under all the paint and updates," Godric said, continuing the inane topic since it was something to say as Nimue slowly relaxed at his side. "It's odd how much changes and yet stays the same, even after a thousand years or near about."
"It must be a strange experience," agreed Nimue quietly as she looked over the village in interest. "I can't say I've ever visited here. Not even for the Potter cottage…it just didn't feel right to visit such a place and even though they said you were born here—originally at least—it never felt very significant when I saw photos of this place. It's just a little village by the sea."
Godric nodded. "It is. It was home."
"Was?" she asked as they reached the end of the lane of houses and could spy the distant pebbled beach.
He paused at the end of that official lane and stared out at the distant water as he explained vaguely, "Sally and I traveled, learned various magics under masters on the continent as we did…and eventually when we came back, we met Rowena, reconnected with Helga and focused on what became Hogwarts." He turned to the woman and shrugged. "Hogwarts became home. Is still home, really."
She nodded in understanding. Nimue looked thoughtful as she took in the view and his words.
"Now," Godric continued as he picked his way through the small walking trail, "the manor sits where my father's home had once been. That house was left to me and I left it to my son. Clearly, it stayed in the family and it was entirely made over. I wasn't born in a manor." He shook his head as he considered the marble and wood behemoth. "It is a huge waste of space at this point but perhaps it'll be of use in the future. Good enough for the holidays at least. Though," Godric looked back with a helpless smile as he noted, amused, "Sally and I are entirely capable of sneaking out of Hogwarts and using the floo in Hogsmeade so it's not even that useful for the holidays."
That pulled a smile from the redhead and she diplomatically said, "At least it's here if you need it?"
"It is better than a tent in the middle of a grove in muggle suburbia," Godric agreed, equally amused.
"What?"
He shook his head with a grin but didn't look back as he reached the pebbled shore and turned toward the hiking trail up the cliffside. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."
The pair fell quiet as they hiked up to the vantage point. Today the edge of distant Wales could be spied. Boats floated across the expanse. There were more now that the majority of the holidays were over. Godric imagined that even more would be present once the new year had come and the holiday season was concluded.
"Can I ask you something?" Nimue asked as she took in the view.
"Certainly why we're here but I might not answer," Godric said as he pulled his gaze from the view to his new cousin. Really, she was some distant descendant but it didn't feel quite right calling her granddaughter under the circumstances. That he was his own descendant also made her a cousin. So a cousin she would be.
Her pale cheeks pinked further and it wasn't from the cold. She glanced at him but turned her gaze back to the view before she said, instead of asking, "You call the Salazar Slytherin, Sally."
Godric blinked a few times before he furrowed his brow and frowned up at her. "I've called him Sally since I was eleven and he was…gods…ten, probably. He was a year younger than me. I'd have to ask if he remembers if he was still nine when I first called him that."
She stared in wonder at him before she spoke up once more, voice soft with that wonder. "You knew him that long? But then…did you actually fight and he leave?"
He turned his head sharply away as he shook his head. His jaw clenched as the gut-wrenching memory of finding Sally dying rushed forward.—If only he had been able to heal. If only he had been better, done better. That's why Gran–
Godric mentally slammed the self-admonishments away. Not happy that the hell with the Longbottoms now affected his thoughts on things he had done—or not done—in another lifetime.
A deep breath in and a slow exhale helped settle some of the nerves that had started to rise with the memories and emotional berating.
He turned back to Nimue with a forced smile and stated bluntly because there was no point hiding it. The Weasley twins knew. Nimue certainly deserved to know. "Sally–Salazar went to a meeting for me. It ended up being a trap set by the Normans…He–" Godric struggled to keep his expression neutral but he felt tight, uncomfortable with the topic. He was not succeeding.
Godric turned away from her as he continued to explain in a rush, "–took out the lot. All of them specialized in a way that would have been difficult for me to handle so of course he took them all out before they could spring another trap on me…but he–" He took a sharp breath. "–died in doing so."
His throat restricted at the last words; it was still difficult to say that fact after all these years. A sharp breath and another slow exhale helped before he stated flatly, "There was no argument….Not really. Maybe about him going in my place for a moment but not something worth recalling after a thousand years."
In the silence that followed Godric decided to finish this piece of the discussion quickly so they could focus on Gryffindor-related matters. "Salazar is my brother through ritual bonds ancient during our first lives. We are bonded through blood, magic, and soul. We have a bond that is nearly as close as magical twins."
"Merlin," she breathed out.
Silence reigned for a few minutes. Only the sounds of the waves as they crashed against the rocks and cliffs below rang out.
Then Nimue spoke, but her voice was nearly a whisper and he could barely hear her. "My mother killed my sister. Meredith didn't receive her Hogwarts letter. That night Mother and Dad argued but it seemed like Mum had accepted things the next morning. Da… Dad insisted it was alright and claimed that we'd handle it and everything would be fine. He was going to take Meredith out to a muggle park to just–" She waved her arms out to emphasize her words as she spoke a little louder and more forcefully as she got going. "–see a little of the muggle world over the weekend since he had to work until then…He had a plan, a beginning of a plan to handle it…but…That afternoon…I don't know why but I had this feeling and I ran upstairs for the bathroom instead of using the downstairs one and th-there was–" Her breath caught and she made a helpless sound before she continued with a cracking voice. "–Mum was holding Meredith under the water in the tub. I-I-I–"
She swallowed hard, blue eyes shown with tears as she clenched at her scarf. A harsh breath escaped and she shook her head as she said, "I don't really remember what exactly happened. I attacked Mum. I know that. And mum ended up pushing me under the water with Meredith." Tears slid down her face as she whispered, "Meredith wasn't moving by then. I-I won't ever forget her dead eyes staring at me under the water."
Godric reached out and touched her arm lightly as she struggled to calm herself.
"Dad showed up at some point.–" Her teary gaze snapped sharply to meet Godric's gaze. "–At least that's what I've been told. I blacked out. Next time I woke up I was at Saint Mungo's being told Meredith hadn't made it—I knew. I saw–" Her breath caught and she visibly struggled to say more.
"But to hear the confirmation," Godric offered softly without any need to say more, recalling Master Hardwin's words as he tried to stymie the blood flow on Sally's side.
The two shared a quiet moment of understanding before Godric turned from the view and nodded down the path across the top of the cliffs and beyond to the large hill the manor was hidden on. "This way."
Another few minutes of quiet settled between the two as they continued the hike.
Nimue chose to break it by continuing to explain. Her tone was flat as she spoke, "Mother is a Rookwood. She's the aunt of the Rookwood Pater today but her brother was Pater back then…He was able to convince the courts that she was mentally unwell and his lawyers convinced them to let her spend the rest of her days in one of his manors…she isn't supposed to leave that manor but various friends of dad have seen her out and about. She just keeps from going out often and is never anywhere where Dad or I might see her…but she's free…She got away with murdering Meredith."
Godric paused in his walk and closed his eyes in regret. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," she sniffed out. "That's what happens with people that hurt or kill squibs. They get away with it." She paused and stated, tone hard, "It has to change."
"I agree." Godric answered, tone quiet but firm, "Entirely."
She stared over at him intently before she relaxed and continued to walk. Nimue kicked a small rock down the hard dirt path as she took up her explanation once more, "That entire incident had the rest of the Weasley clan close ranks around us and support us. It…uh–" She shot him a bitter-tinted smile. "–it was amazing. Great Uncle Septimus is the head of the Familia. Dad's his nephew, as far from inheriting anything significant as possible…It was nice to feel noticed even if it was because my mum was a crazy pureblood lunatic and my sister was dead…"
She slowed to a halt, gaze staring off into the distance without seeing anything. Godric paused at her side and watched silently, letting her gather her thoughts.
Her tone was bitter as she said, "Then I turned eleven. And no Hogwarts letter came."
Nimue shook her head after another moment and started to walk once more. Godric walked at her side, content to let her speak what she wanted. He guided her to the right of a split in the trail and they headed up the hill.
"They tried to be nice about it, you know," she said quietly a few minutes later, "but I was a sign that maybe we had deserved it all, at least a little."
Tears glistened in her eyes as she glanced over at him and their eyes met. She offered a tight smile. "It was partly because of time and partly because of my squib status and the fact that dad didn't send me away, didn't even push me to learn about the muggle world…but, uh–" She took a deep breath before she continued. "–they just slowly stopped coming by. Not even Molly or Arthur continued to stop by and their whole scandalous marriage had connected us together a little more than the rest. Like they had sort of, vaguely understood…Of course, there were the death eater attacks and Molly had just had little Percy."
Nimue fell silent and they walked quietly up the hill until they reached the visible top. It was as they reached the pile of rocks at the fake top of the hill that they paused once more.
Godric quietly watched his cousin. She was a little shaky and her cheeks were wet but she looked calmer than he had seen her in…ever, really (which didn't count for much but still). At this height, the brisk winter air was a bracing wind. It tugged at his hat, Gryffindor scarf, and clothes. Nimue's own scarf danced in the wind alongside her hair as it flipped out like a red banner in the gray sky. She tugged her hair back and twisted it about so she could tuck it away as she stared out over the view.
Eventually, she noticed he was watching her and offered an awkward smile. "It's alright now. Looking back, I know most of it was just life…There are family get-togethers dad and I aren't invited to but I've learned that most of us distant cousins aren't usually. Uncle Septimus has, like, twelve grandkids and five or six—or more at this point—great-grandkids. And we're not a wealthy Familia…It's ok that it's usually just dad and I."
Godric countered, "It still hurts, especially when young and nothing is explained nearly enough."
"Yeah," she agreed quietly as she tugged a stray hair behind an ear.
"You know from the newspapers that I've been disowned from the Longbottom House," Godric remarked, "I'm sure you've heard the rumors about me over the years. I couldn't access my magic easily and the House did a great deal to try to force it out…and at the time I had no proper memory of my previous life–"
"And then they tossed you out when you proved inadequate to their expectations," Nimue finished before she stated, "I'm sorry. What they did was wrong and they should be held accountable."
Godric stared at her, surprised by the jolt of relief hearing someone say it. What the Longbottoms had done was wrong. Sally had said similarly—or implied it—but he had either needed to hear it from someone else entirely, someone that would have experienced something even slightly similar, or had not been ready to hear it until now. Sally didn't know everything done to him either and that may have affected his reaction to his brother's support more than he had realized.
He looked up at the gray sky and breathed in the cold air. It was strange how the world worked.
"You know," he said as he looked over at the woman once more, "I was a blue-eyed, freckled, redheaded man….so many of you Weasleys remind me of my son who took after me. You all are likely descended from him…But you remind me of my daughter. She didn't get my freckles and her red hair darkened as she grew. And she was just as blue-eyed."
Nimue stared wide-eyed before she noted out loud, amused, "That has to be the strangest thing…What did Salazar look like in his past life?"
That pulled a laugh from him. He hadn't expected the question and thinking of the difference was entertaining. "He was silver-eyed and blond, though his hair darkened during the winter months and when he spent too much time in Hogwarts instead of outside in his groves. He was also capable of tanning. The way he avoids the sun now is ridiculous."
She grinned at his humor. The serious conversation was set aside for now.
He waved his hand out toward the hidden manor and said, "This way, it's hidden behind a bunch of enchantments."
The lull in conversation became another stretch of quiet as they passed through the various magical barriers and reached the gates. Godric ended up giving her a tour of the massive marble building.
It was in the greenhouse where they both settled under an orange tree to munch on fruit that Godric finally asked, "Are you truly alright with the agreement with House Black?"
Nimue nodded almost immediately. "It feels rushed since it all might be done before you return to Hogwarts but–" She smiled down at the orange she was peeling. "–it's also, sort of, a dream come true." Nimue looked over at him and flashed a toothy smile as she explained, "I'm a waitress squib with no future in this magical world…Instead of eventually caving and leaving for the muggle side, I get to stay and have everything I had ever dreamed of. There is no real question about it…Yes, I'd have liked to have a relationship, have dated, and liked my husband, and all that but…I chose to stay knowing any of that was unlikely to happen…"
She shook her head as she trailed off and offered instead, "It's better this way…And that's, that. I already spent most of last night talking it through with Dad. I really am good."
"Well…you and the children can stay here as needed if things turn sour." Godric offered, "You are always welcome. And we'll have to set up a time to help with your magic and teach you various things so it's not like I've claimed you and tossed you to the Blacks. I'm here and will support you as I can as Pater Gryffindor…It might be a little interesting to find time to do so with having to go back to Hogwarts as a student but we'll make it work."
The woman nodded along at his words until he brought up teaching her. Then she perked up, blue gaze intent as she leaned toward him in interest. When he finished speaking he knew what she was going to focus on.
She asked almost shyly, "Yes, my magic…" and trailed off before she could preferably explain what she wanted. He could see the many directions she wanted to go, the indecision of which particular piece she wanted to ask first.
"Right," Godric said with an amused smile and nodded before he shifted in his seat to settle down and jumped into the last topic they needed to have, "Salazar is better with some of this, and you're welcome to speak with him about it all also. It's not like he doesn't know about all this but let me explain the issue you are likely dealing with and our House Magicks and all that, shall I?"
Multiple diagrams, visuals (drawn handly on the back of letters he really should respond to at some point), and anecdotes later, Sally strowled into the greenhouse with a bundle in his arms. Godric dropped his arms from the vague motions he had been making that likely didn't give Nimue any better idea what he had done to take down a troll during one of their adventures—They may have gotten very off-topic at some point.—and raised a questioning eyebrow at his brother. His cousin turned to follow his gaze and straightened at the sight of Salazar.
Her gaze was huge as she stated dumbfounded, "You're Harry Potter."
Salazar paused midstep and slowly tilted his head at her. "Yesss?"
She turned accusingly at Godric. "Someone didn't bother explaining who you had been reincarnated as!"
"I thought it was obvious," Godric defended. She scowled at him and he raised his hands up in defense. "Honest! You've only seen me with him, Who else did you think Sally could be?"
Nimue flushed and grumbled, gaze darting away from him, "I didn't consider anyone…but if I had, it would have not been Harry Potter.—Harry Potter is Salazar Slytherin! We've discussed muggle novels!"
Sally sighed, shook his head as he crossed the remaining space, and dropped his bundle onto the table between them. Unrolled revealed multiple, decently straight, and thick sticks of wood. Their bark was already stripped from them and any twigs removed.
His brother turned to Nimue and explained, "If you are ready, I'd like to show you your core and guide you through choosing a wood for the ritual. I'll be collecting the wood for the Black's side tomorrow."
She leaned toward him and nodded along before she asked, "What do I need to do."
"First, let's see your core," Salazar offered as he held out his hands. "Clasp my forearms, close your eyes, and breathe as if you're going to meditate—You know how to meditate?"
"Yes…maybe," Nimue answered as she followed his instructions until her hands floated above his own. There she paused and swallowed. She flashed a look up at Salazar and muttered with a worried twist of her lips, "I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear."(1)
Her words startled a laugh out of Salazar and she relaxed a little, a faint smile softening her taut expression.
Godric raised an eyebrow and demanded, "What?"
"Quoting a muggle book," Sally explained with a shrug as Nimue finally clasped his forearms, "I'll give you my copy later." He focused back on Nimue as he added, "Though true as the quote might be, there is nothing you need fear here. You have magic, Nimue. All I'm about to do is show it to you."
Her eyes were shiny with tears as she silently nodded. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and visibly squeezed Salazar's forearms tightly. Sally guided her through the process, though it took time as she struggled through the terror she felt and clearly didn't entirely understand how to meditate. Eventually, though, the two relaxed where they sat. Their head dipped toward their chests and they were mentally gone.
Godric distracted himself with another orange to peel. By the time he had eaten it, the two returned with slight jerks of attention and head bobs. A few rapid blinks as they readjusted to the physical world, and Nimue was on her feet. Sally settled at Godric's side as they both watched the woman pace through the giant conservatory.
Salazar said quietly, "She's about as bad off as Flich or Mrs. Figg."
"Who?"
His brother waved a hand as if batting the question away. "The neighborhood cat lady that accidentally gave me Omorose and is a lookout for Dumbledore." Salazar paused and looked from Nimue to him. "Doesn't matter–"
"I disagree there," Godric muttered at the thought that Dumbledore had been keeping that close a watch on his brother.
"-I'd rather Nimue was able to use the cleansing baths," Salazar continued as if Godric hadn't interrupted, "It's going to take serious work. And…Godric, the rituals I know are for maintaining a healthy core. They weren't crafted for the needs of today. It'll take years for her to be able to use any magic…"
Godric frowned as Sally visibly hesitated.
His brother's gaze flicked over to Nimue before Sally sifted toward Godric. Sally's shoulder brushed against Godric's before the druid muttered, "I almost missed the tiny opening that has allowed her magic through just enough so she can use the floo network. If that was gunked over, I don't know if the tests I recommended to Arcturus would have worked…I suppose it depends on the illusion magic over the Leaky Cauldron muggle-side door but I'm fairly certain the Hogwarts wards would have made her think the school was the illusioned ruin. The illusion ward checks for a magical core. If it cannot reach the core through the contamination, the person must come across as a muggle to it."
Salazar pressed his lips together before he stated grimly, "It's actually entirely possible there are magicals out there that come across as entirely muggle, like they really are squibs." He swept a hand through his wild hair and slumped back in his seat. "If only she could have some fire elemental magic burn the gunk out of her too."
"That is extremely dangerous." Godric offered helplessly, not able to think of anything else to say to this unpleasant revelation.
"It wasn't a suggestion," Sally huffed before he straightened in his seat and explained, "I don't know how much the Spring purification ritual will do for her either. It's just a more potent form of the monthly ritual."
Godric frowned and turned to stare at Sally. "Are you suggesting crafting an entirely different purification ritual? Where would you even start?"
Salazar simply shrugged.
Nimue reappeared from behind fruiting trees and sat back at the table. She reached out but didn't touch any of the sticks of wood Salazar had laid out. "Right–" She took a deep breath and flashed a smile at them both, far too elated to have possibly overheard Sally's grim analysis. "–How do I do this?"
Sally leaned over to explain quietly with a faint smile.
Godric leaned back in his chair and watched them without listening, his thoughts stuck on the idea of crafting a new purification ritual and Sally's remark about the elemental flames that had removed the majority of the residue from his core. It had been dangerous and was utterly stupid to try to recreate but he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it. There was potential in the idea.
And, while it was entirely counter to Salazar's natural magical inclinations, it fit Godric's to a tee. Why couldn't he craft such a ritual? It would take considerable time. He was no ritual master and he had only the basic understanding of druidic magic but he had a master around to review it all and he had to learn the druidic arts now anyway.
And he understood fire on a level Salazar would never.
He noodled at that possibility as he watched Nimue's expression turn teary-eyed and awed as Sally pulled a tiny bit of magic she could access up her arm and to her fingers. Godric could barely feel her magic and that was only because Salazar was manipulating it. It was the tiniest drop.
His brother kept his hand against the back of Nimue's hand as she slowly traced each branch with the magic coiling at the tips of her fingers. Sally muttered to Nimue and she returned to a few of the branches. Slowly Salazar guided her through understanding what her magic was telling her and directed her to the branch she resonated with the best—something Sally likely realized the moment she had first connected her magic with it.
She picked up the branch and turned it about in wonder before reluctantly giving it to Salazar.
A moment passed as she stared at the branch in Sally's hands. Then she jerked her gaze away and eventually focused on Godric. "We should go, shouldn't we?"
Godric glanced at his watch before he sighed and got to his feet. "Yes. This'll likely take a while, Sal. Have fun at your party."
Salazar nodded distractedly as he turned the branch Nimue resonated within his hand.
This time Godric guided her to the entry's fireplace. "The passcode back to the manor is Griffin's Throne. To get to House Black's manor, we'll use L'île du Sinistros noire." At her nod of understanding, Godric led the way.
oooP2ooo
(Albus)
Severus sneered out at Albus from across his desk, visibly, utterly annoyed at the world. But then, Albus had found that the young man had long trapped himself in his hate. There was likely nothing that would be able to push Severus to confront the issues in a way that would let him move on in his life.
"You needed something, my boy?" he asked, setting aside his hunt for how and why the rodents kept reappearing at Longwood. Fitzwilliam had been too distracted by the fire and now by this to willingly talk to Albus about Neville. (It was entirely possible his knowledge was being taken advantage of but it was fascinating that these creatures kept reappearing no matter what was used to forcefully evict them.)
Severus gave him a flat look and stated, "I've done what I can to find the boy. My potion allowed my owl to track him, temporarily, to part of Diagon Alley but he must be wearing something that hides his presence from all the tracking spells I know. It may also deflect the enhanced owl's tracking but he doesn't always wear it."
"Powerful magic," Albus muttered.
"Or an old family artifact he stole as he was tossed out," Severus countered, "The boy is incapable of anything beyond herbology."
Albus hummed thoughtfully. That Neville might be the boy of prophecy meant he must have more magic than seen so far. He didn't have much hope for the child, honestly. But some children were simply late bloomers and so he would hold out any final opinions for as long as he could. Harry was doing almost too well, which if nothing else was a good sign for the prophecy and meant Neville's lack of ability was a moot point.
"I'll inquire with Fitzwilliam on the matter once I've helped with their recent misfortunes," Albus finally decided out loud, "It may be a sign that a powerful family has taken him in."
"If that's the case, won't they have paid for his tuition by now," groused Severus.
Albus paused at that. That was a very good point.
His gaze darted over to the neglected piles of letters he had conveniently ignored since the explosion Halloween morning. Anything of true importance had been sorted out by one of the elves and placed on his desk. All invitations for the seasonal parties he could avoid, which were all of them this year, were sent a politely worded no he had long since templatized for the elf to send for him.
What was left should be holiday letters to send responses to and any minor Hogwarts matters. All things he could take his time going through. It would include any notices from Minerva on changes in the student population though.
He smiled benignly at Severus instead of admitting that he may have sent the man on an unnecessary hunt and said, "I'll speak with Minerva about this. Return to your planned holiday and thank you, Severus. If I need you to attempt contact with Neville once more, I will let you know."
Severus gave an utterly unimpressed look but accepted his dismissal. As the man opened the door, Albus realized one detail left, "What part of Diagon Alley did you find him?"
The dour man turned and answered with a curl of his lips, "The older section, a bit rundown…the Butterbeer headquarters was right there when I saw him running by."
A worried frown spread once the potions master left. It was not a location an old, powerful family would live in nor a location for a boy used to such to be found willingly. So Severus' guess that Neville had foolishly stolen a Longbottom artifact was well founded. Such a thing could be used to get into the good standing of the Longbottom House but if handled poorly could alienate Neville from him.
Albus leaned back thoughtfully and waved a hand to silently summon the top five parchments from his neglected pile. Amongst them was a short note from Minerva announcing the exact thing Severus asked over. Albus was relieved that he was only behind on Neville's tuition being paid by a day. It wasn't particularly surprising the payment was anonymous.
He frowned over the note as he contemplated if it was worth the effort to dig up who was paying the bill. But no. Unless Neville showed signs related to the prophecy, he needn't put effort into finding out. Young Neville might even tell him when asked.
His fireplace dinged before green flames rippled across its surface then it dinged again. Albus rose with a creaking feeling from his back and flicked a hand to send a pillow to the floor in front of the fireplace before he shuffled onto it. He opened his floo and Alastor's scared face burned green within its depths a second later.
"Let me through, Albus," the ex-Auror demanded with a twisted grin Albus had long learned was supposed to be giddiness. It only made the man look like he was about to murder someone.
"What did I tell you to give me for Christmas?" Albus asked, amused as the man's flaming face crackled in delight.
"Finally listening to me, eh, Albus? Can't just start again because you expect a dark lord to pop out of the woodwork! You gotta bloody well expect one will come along eventually that is smart enough not to go on public rampages and instead sneak in like this and assassinate the lot of you politically important fools instead," growled Alastor, "And asking about bleeding socks of all things is the least of your bleeding concern!"
Albus nodded along, entertained by the paranoid man insisting to rant at him and throw in the answer without it being obvious to anyone attempting to listen in. He answered, "Give me a moment, Alastor." Then he flicked the access off, banished the pillow back where it belonged, and settled behind his desk before he reopened the floo entrance, this time fully.
Alastor stomped out a moment later and nodded, pleased, when Albus visibly closed down the entrance once more. "Keep things properly secure. Too many damn strange happenings of late for something not to happen."
"It all does point toward something coming," Albus agreed as he considered the list of strange happenings since Halloween and ignored the praise. He honestly only had it locked down due to not being around to leave it open. And he knew Alastor would have scolded him if he hadn't relocked it. "We will do what we can to head off conflict." He looked back to his young, though worn-down friend, "What have you found?"
The Auror pulled out folded parchment and held it out, "You can keep them. They're copies."
Albus leaned over his desk and took it, now very curious. Unfolded, revealed two documents requesting access to Archival folders. His breath sucked in sharply when he saw the signatures.
Slytherin. Gryffindor.
Both documents were dated the same day. What were the chances the two Paters had somehow activated their Seats and gone to the Archival the same day but didn't do so together?
He snapped his gaze up to stare at Alastor in shock. "They know each other."
"Aye," Alastor answered as he pulled out two vials filled with a misty substance.
Albus all but sprang up, suddenly feeling years younger as he flicked his wand out and moved bookshelves. Behind them revealed the Hogwarts' pensieve. A jab had the floating bowl glide through the air to them. Both men viewed the two memories. The first was of the on-duty officer at the Ministry entrance. The second was from the young House elf who had managed the Archival during the holiday.
It took only a few moments to view them.
He tucked his hands behind his back and paced as he considered the two memories. Pater Gryffindor had to be the one wearing a red hat. Pater Slytherin the green. Any further details of the two were blurred and Albus couldn't even be certain it was hats that were those colors. It was only that those colors were generally higher up on the two blurred figures. He had a feeling his guess was accurate though.
One matter was clear, no matter how blurred the two were.
"They're children."
"Thirteen-year-olds, I imagine," agreed Alastor.
The Headmaster settled back in his plush office chair and pressed his hands together before his face as he considered the memories over and over. There was a great deal he might be able to glean from the memories. It was too bad so many details were blurred by various Ministry-specific contract-enforced charms on top of whatever the boys had done to hide.(2)
The officer at the check-in desk didn't have the right to remember any details about people's physical condition or wand material. Such information was carefully blurred in the officer's memories. No amount of interrogation would change the fact, though a skilled legilimencer might be able to break through. Such details were stored away in case it was needed for legal reasons but weren't allowed to be viewed by just anyone, even the Supreme Mugglewump or Chief Warlock.
House elf memories were controlled through their bond with their master. In this case, the elf's master was the Ministry itself. Similar enforced memory charms managed what information could be gleaned from their minds.
The memory revealed that House Gryffindor had reactivated the floo entry to a property but what property and what the floo entry was called was not revealed. In turn, The ministry official inappropriately read off the core of Pater Slytherin's wand, and that hadn't been blurred out due to the man saying it incorrectly and clearly not thinking beyond what a strange word it was.—It was one of those lovely moments where Albus appreciated the complexity of protecting a person's memories. The loopholes were numerous, particularly when done accidentally.
Alastor remarked, "What is the Qetscoat thing, then?"
"Quetzalcoatls are feathered serpents found in South America," Albus answered, "A most unusual core, particularly for someone in Europe."
"Fits," muttered the other man before he stated, terribly pleased with himself, "We can find Slytherin by that. And find him, we'll find Gryffindor."
A faint noise from his bookshelves drew Albus's gaze and Alastor's magical eye but it was only the Sorting hat shifting about as if looking for a more comfortable position. The thing must be gearing up to complain about his view, or lack thereof, again. Albus sighed at the hat but focused back on Alastor and his observation.
He countered, "Only a wandcrafter can tell the material of a wand without a device as the Ministry uses….Parents everywhere will come screaming if they hear even a hint of their children's wands being checked."
Alastor shrugged. "That's for you to figure out, Albus. I got you a trail to follow and you are the one in the right position to follow it." Alastor gave Albus a look, even his magical eye was directed at Albus. "They're thirteen, meaning they are here. Right?"
"They might not be," countered Albus mildly before he sighed at the look Alastor gave back. While possible, it was so very unlikely that the Paters of such Houses were going to a trade school. They had to be at Hogwarts.—Or would be once the semester began once more. The only children at the school for the Holidays were Arthur's and Molly's sons. While somewhat disappointing that Pater Gryffindor wasn't one of theirs, it did help cut out some of the most obvious options for one of the boys.
The elder shook his head of all the sudden possibilities and refocused on Alastor. He demanded, "Who else knows about this?"
It wasn't at all relieving to see Alastor grimace. The man shifted from real foot to wooden as he admitted, "The manager for the House elf will be back on the seventh. She's Julia Fortescue. She's not one to dilly-dally. She'll get through all the stacked-up paperwork quickly and then she'll take her findings to her House."
Albus frowned. "Julia? I don't recall a Fortescue–"
"She married Edward, the younger son of Heir Fortescue but that's not the worst of it." Alastor grumbled out, "She is the eldest of Pater Abbott."
He struggled to contain a groan. Pater Abbott's sister was married to Mater Hufflepuff's father. "The Smiths will know about this within hours on the 7th."
"Aye, if not sooner." Alastor answered, "You're not going to be able to swoop in without some compelling competition also swarming the lads. They'll have their pick of advisors soon enough."
oooP3ooo
(Neville)
A familiar House elf waited for them in the Black manor's courtyard. It bowed sweepingly as he announced in a creaking voice, "Pater Gryffindor, Madam Gryffindor. This way."
Nimue sucked in a sharp breath at the address. Godric took his time following the elf so she had time to process it all—the address and the manor. They were led past the sitting room from the other day, upstairs, and around a few turns until they reached an office.
The study's dark wood paneling was offset by green couches Godric could see Sally stealing. The Medusa painting over the mantle was dramatic but the snakes were hissing insults at everyone. It was a toss-up if Salazar would be charmed by the thought of a painting insulting all his guests without them knowing or annoyed by it. Godric ignored them after years of practice.—It had taken years to get used to instinctually understanding parseltongue and figuring out how to tell when it was being spoken. Godric was still on the fence about liking this particular odd side-effect of their soul bond. (Upside, he got to catch all the lovely moments Salazar cussed people out. The downside was moments like this.)
"It is a wonderful painting," Arcturus Black remarked, pulling Godric's attention from it, "My late wife gifted it to me some years ago."
Another man stood beside him near the large desk. The Black waved a hand at the man, "This is my notary, Everett Edgecomb. Everything we discuss and the details of our contracts are magically protected under secrecy enchantments and oaths. Everett is not about to tell anyone about any of this."
Everett nodded along to Arcturus's words before he stepped forward and offered a hand. "It is truly a pleasure to meet you Pater Gryffindor…One day I'd like to sit down and learn your and Pater Slytherin's story…It's truly fascinating considering what could have brought you both back.–" As Godric shook his hand, he offered a sheepish smile. "–Can I ask…I, uh…Are Mater Ravenclaw and Mater Hufflepuff back also?"
Godric shook his head. "They aren't. We visited with them on Samhain." Confusion flickered across more than one face. He explained, "The barriers between…worlds, I suppose, is particularly thin on Samhain. As is tradition, Salazar called on them to see if they wanted to visit and they did."
Jaws dropped. "You–He–summoned the dead," sputtered Everett.
"I mean, it's more that Salazar opened the door and asked if they'd like to visit. They're the ones that stepped through," Godric explained with a faint frown, "The point is, they wouldn't have visited if they were reincarnated also. They couldn't have visited in that case."
"Couldn't something not invited step through that door," Nimue asked quietly.
Godric nodded as he looked over at her. "Well, yes, of course. Not just anyone should complete the ritual. The caster can feel what is coming through and tell if it's who they invited or if the uninvited was malice. And, as long as they are properly trained, restricting the entry…" He trailed off, the fact that Master Hardwin had come uninvited jumped to mind but he was hardly malice in nature, and he shrugged. "We'll have to discuss it more with Sally."
"Could you call on anyone to visit?" Arcturus asked quietly with an oddly distant expression written across his age-whittled face. It didn't quite distract Godric from the noise from Everett.
"Yes," Godric answered slowly, taking in the elderly man's distant gaze and ignoring the other man's reaction. Arcturus likely had many dead loved ones while Everett might be reacting to his nickname for Sally. (He was in fact aware, on a vague level, that Sally was considered a female name nowadays. People can suck it. He wasn't changing. They can learn to ignore the name.) "But you'd have to participate in the ritual. Unless the caster knows the person, they won't be able to invite them without another helping send the invite."
Arcturus slowly nodded before he visibly shook himself of his thoughts and turned to Everett. "Let us focus here."
"Yes, right," Everett rushed out "The contracts–" He pulled out a folder from a case on the desk and held it out to Godric. "–Here they are. Please review them. Once we've finalized the wording, we'll sign and the magic imbued in the parchment will craft three copies of the first and a fourth of the second for the ministry."
"Contracts? As in plural?" Nimue asked as she stepped closer to Godric to look over the documents.
Godric flipped the folder open and found the top contract, which looked to be multiple Legalese-filled pages, covering the details they had laid out the night before. Staring down at them, Godric wondered if he should have found his own notary or lawyer to review all this with him.
"You wish to marry into House Black," Arcturus answered, cutting into Godric's thoughts, "The second contract is the actual marriage contract. The certification."
He looked up from the stack of parchment as Nimue asked, "We'll need Sirius to sign it too, though. Or—Oh, is this just letting us review it before the meeting?"
Arcturus frowned and waved at the green couches. "Please, all of you, sit."
A House elf pop-clicked into the room with a plate of biscuits and a few tea sets—one for Arcturus and one for the rest of them. Godric used the table to set both contracts beside the other. The one covering their actual deal was much longer than the second.
'We will be signing both today if you find them acceptable," Arcturus stated as he sat back with a cup of tea in hand.
"Both," repeated Nimue. Godric couldn't blame her incredulous stare. He couldn't recall Fitzwilliam ever explaining marriage by proxy to him as he grew up a second time. He had witnessed such marriages in his past life though they had involved a woman marrying a man gone to a warfront instead of a imprisoned criminal. It had likely changed at least a little since then.
Arcturus nodded and explained, "Azkaban inmates are deemed dependents of their head of House or Familia, or to the elder of their family if they are not part of either. All dependents may be married by the representation of their legal guardian. There are requirements to allow marriage by representation, of course. Sirius meets them all."
"It's a little archaic," offered Everett with a slight smile directed at Nimue, "but it's been done a few times recently due to various heirs and heads being incarcerated. Even though marriage contracts are in the public domain, you wouldn't have heard about them. It's all kept hushed up. But, for instance, you could go through the Archival's folder of marriage certificates and find Rabastan Lestrange–"
Godric frowned at the familiar name—he wasn't certain how he felt about the man being allowed a wife and children—and noticed Arcturus fight a grimace too. The notary hadn't noticed as he continued to explain.
"–was married to a second cousin…oh, uh, about last year this time I think…It shouldn't surprise anyone that some Lestrange heir will show up at Hogwarts in eleven years or so. Or that the child is not genetically Rabastan's. This situation is unique in that the children will be so closely blood-related to the incarcerated father but, of course, we have the advantage of…certain personages and their skillsets."
Nimue's eyebrows rose at the explanation before she said, more than asked with a flat tone, "You'll be doing the same with this certification."
"Yes," Arcturus agreed, speaking in a slight rush, "There's no reason to announce it and many reasons to not since you aren't a second or third cousin Black to explain away the children's Black heritage."
"So I'm getting married today," Nimue said, her flat tone giving way to a slight pitch of panic.
The three men shared a look and Arcturus tactfully said, "We've all day to review the contracts. The meeting with Sirius will be late on New Year's eve, if that's enough time for Pater Slytherin. If you need another day to consider everything, we can meet again tomorrow or the day after for the signing."
She stared blankly down into her cup and after a moment gave a jerking nod.
Godric watched her worriedly, brow furrowed. "Well…let us review these then."
In the end, there were only minor tweaks to the language before the contracts were ready. Of course, it still took a few hours to go through it all and make those tweaks since Godric made certain to compare sections to each other as he had been taught by his Longbottom not-kin.
"And that is the last edit," Everett announced as the document accepted the magically made edit. He glanced over to Nimue before he looked to Godric. "Are we–"
"I'd like my father here as a witness," Nimue announced as she straightened in her seat, hands clasped together with her knuckles white from how tightly she was holding herself. "Perhaps…lunch?"
Arcturus nodded, unable to hide his relief. "Elmore."
Pater Black's elderly elf pop-clicked in and swept into a bow. "Request Romulus Weasley to join us. If he is able to join us immediately, request a late lunch at Le Météor. Let Cassiopeia know also. She should join if she's available."
"Right away," Elmore announced before he pop-clicked out of the room.
Godric shifted in his seat and looked around the room once more. The view through the wall of windows behind the large desk was of water and blue skies. Multiple portraits watched them, him, intently. One was a familiar headmaster. He huffed softly as the old man offered Godric a slightly mocking bow.
He turned back to the others and asked, for lack of anything else to say in the silent room, "Le Météor another of your restaurants?"
Arcturus nodded. "Fine dining. Isn't usually open until dinner but they'll give us an exception. It's in Le Havre but we'll be able to floo directly to it."
Nimue tugged at her robes, choreographing, perhaps unintentionally, her concern about her clothing for a fine dining restaurant.
Before anyone thought of something to say, a pop-click announced Elmore once more. The elf announced, "Mr. Weasley is on his way, Master. Mistress Cassiopeia is preparing Le Météor for the celebration."
"Excellent," Arcturus muttered before he turned to Nimue and offered a warm smile. "I hope you aren't too down over your name change so soon after becoming a Gryffindor my dear but I am quite pleased to name you a Black."
Nimue startled before she smiled faintly back. "That's alright. I will always be a Gryffindor, even if I've already lost the surname…That reminds me though–" She turned to Godric. "–Why give me another middle name?"
"Tradition?" Godric offered, "It is part of the actual ritual but seems like an addition due to some Roman tradition….And technically it's your new first name, though I don't think that's legally binding in this age and government–er…As far as I know, the ritual was created by some contemporary of Ceaser…or earlier."(3)
"Oh..So…Godiva Gryffindor." She blinked owlishly at him as she tried out her name and then asked, "So why Godiva?"
"It's a version of my mother's name," Godric offered, suddenly feeling a little ridiculous for doing so. (Sally would say he was being sentimental again.) "I mean, Modor. Uh…Her name was Godgifu." At the stares from everyone he added, "See, that's why I used a newer version. And you're full name is technically Godiva Nimue Clementine Weasley Gryffindor. Not that you need to use it all."
Nimue smiled slowly and muttered, "Named after Godric Gryffindor's mother…thank you."
Godric shrugged uncomfortably. Unlike Sally, he couldn't just change up a ritual on the fly. He had to give her another name. He could have given her any name. His mother's was what struck him at the time.
A knock and the door slid open. Godric twisted about in his seat to take a look. A House elf stepped in and announced, "Mister Romulus Weasley, Master!"
"Come in," called Arcturus. The sound of the couch shifting drew Godric's gaze from the redheaded man who stepped nervously in. Arcturus and Everett had stood up
Godric and Nimue followed after a moment's delay. Arcturus swept around the couches and offered a hand to Romulus. The redhead blinked owlishly at the far more courteous reception Pater Black was offering him and slowly clasped hands.
Hands still clasped, Arcturus waved Romulus toward the rest and announced, "We are about to sign the contracts. Nimue wished you present for the marriage contract signing, as a witness."
Romulus' eyes widened. "I–now?"
"Never better than the present," Arcturus answered.
"How–"
Nimue tugged a strand of her hair back as she answered her father, "It's all by proxy, Dad."
"Oh." breathed out the man as Arcturus guided him toward the large desk. The notary picked up the contracts and transferred them to the desk before he pulled out an elegant looking blood quill.
Romulus tugged his daughter into a one-armed hug and whispered something in her ear. Nimue nodded back at him. A grin spread across his face until the Weasley looked near bursting in joy. "My daughter married. Not the marriage I had always imagined but…well. As long as you're happy, sweetheart." He turned back to the rest of them. "Where do I sign?"
It took seconds for each of them to sign, the invention of blood quills making it an easy process. The moment each contract received its last signature, that of Everett Edgecomb as notary and witness, each glowed blindingly. When the light faded the two documents had multiplied.
Everett placed Godric's copies into the folder from earlier and then offered handshakes with everyone. "Wonderful doing business with you all. Please call upon me for any future business dealings! And enjoy your celebratory meal!" The man vanished out the door a moment later, taking the ministry copies with him to file.
Romulus offered his daughter another hug before he turned to Arcturus, an arm still around his daughter. "Meal?"
"Yes," Arcturus answered with a clap of his hands. "Le Météor is another of my restaurants. Cassiopeia must have gotten it all set." He guided them out the door and slowly led the way to the foyer. He paused at the stairs and waved his hand down the hall away from them as he looked back at his granddaughter-in-law. "Nimue, after the meal would you like to look over the various wings of the manor you can choose from? There's one that had views of the ocean from each room and another with views of the various gardens."
Godric shifted as Nimue glanced up sharply, eyes wide. "Oh," she breathed out, "I…need to move in, don't I?"
"That is part of the agreement," Godric offered softly.
She shook her head and smiled. "Yes, of course. I know that…just hadn't thought about it. My lease isn't up for a few more months–"
"You can choose a wing and have it decorated to your tastes before moving." Arcturus offered, "No reason to hold off doing so though, is my point."
Nimue relaxed. "I would like to do so then."
oooP4ooo
Le Météor was a restaurant on the white cliffs overlooking the sea. Three-fourths of the place felt like it was made of windows, framing the view magnificently. Its furniture was light and frail looking, chosen to not infringe on the view. At the sight of Arcturus, the host guided them through the main room to a balcony large enough for multiple tables but only one round table just large enough for their party stood. Blue skies and a magically warmed, brine filled breeze gave the illusion of a warm Spring day. Seagulls floated in the wind in search of a meal.
Cassiopeia rose from her seat with a vibrant smile directed at them. She was dressed to the nines compared to the rest of them. Her appearance fit the elegance of the restaurant better than theirs. "I've taken the liberty of selecting the drink and courses from what the chefs were able to create on such short notice. It will be excellent, I promise."
"Very good," Arcturus nodded as they all claimed seats. "I'm sure it'll be perfect."
She nodded before she turned to Nimue and said warmly, "Welcome to the family, dear. We must go shopping to properly celebrate."
"Shopping?" Nimue slowly repeated with a faint frown.
Cassiopeia offered a toothy grin. "You're a Black now. You can, of course, dress in whatever style you want but us Black ladies should have at least a few diamonds and black dresses for every occasion. We can plan a day out to see the rest of the shops here. I can set appointments with a few of the best designers also if you're interested."
"Oh," muttered Nimue, looking a little wide-eyed and lost, as Cassiopeia continued to chatter at her about the possible stores to stop at.
Glasses of white wine materialized before everyone but Godric. A tall bubbly drink of some type appeared before him. Godric frowned slightly before he picked it up and took a sip. It wasn't alcoholic as far as he could tell and was definitely not butterbeer with the soft zing of lemon.
Romulus leaned toward Godric and said quietly. "May I ask something?"
Godric looked over at the redhead before he glanced at the Blacks. Arcturus and Cassiopeia were distracted telling Nimue about all the things she could potentially purchase, as they were traditional for a Black to have. He nodded at Romulus.
"Why Nimue?" the man hesitated before he added, voice dropping even lower, "Why only Nimue?"
"Ah," Godric offered a shrug. "She's the only one the House has called out to."
A complicated flicker of emotion danced across Romulus for a second. "Oh." he breathed out before he got ahold of himself and beamed at Godric. The beam didn't hide the slight tightness in his smile. "Nimue deserves the world. You've made that possible for her, you know? So thank you. Truly."
He nodded at the Weasley. Godric believed the man, even if Romulus must have hoped to be claimed too. The House magicks didn't call out for him though. Godric knew, on some instinctive level, that attempting to bring Romulus into House Gryffindor would fail. The House magicks would not accept Romulus.
He had no idea why. Godric could only guess it had something to do with the magical mix that made up the man. The Weasley familia wasn't just an off-shoot of House Gryffindor. They were more than that.
A waiter stepped up to the table, plates floating in a circle around him. Those plates ended up having little salads on them. Godric stared curiously at a few of the ingredients, not recognizing them. One sliced-up thing—hopefully a vegetable—actively shifted through oranges and reds and purples as Godric stared at it. It tasted almost like tomato but also reminded Godric vaguely of the oranges he had eaten earlier. Godric glanced at the others eating the salad without question before he decided to just eat whatever was placed before him and not worry about it.
"You and the children must stay in Le Havre part of the year," Cassiopeia remarked as Godric refocused on the broader conversation, "It's traditional."
Arcturus nodded. "You needn't stay with Cassiopeia, of course–"
"Though my home is large enough to comfortably host you without you ever having to actually see me if you'd like," Cassiopeia butted in.
"-but," Arcturus continued, clearly beyond used to his cousin interrupting him in causal settings, "we all learn French. The best way to do so is immersing our children while they're young."
Godric glanced over to his now married cousin. Nimue twisted her wine glass about nervously but continued to simply listen in. He offered, "Learning another language is useful and fascinating. I know-uh–" Godric glanced back at the door where a waiter discreetly stood. He glanced at Arcturus who offered a reassuring smile. "–my brother and I would enjoy learning modern French."
"There is a potion to help learn languages," Romulus stated with a touch of hostility in his tone and the twist of his lips, "Nimue doesn't have to stay in France for part of the year if she doesn't want to."
The Blacks startled. Godric blinked, suddenly realizing how the Blacks offered had sounded.
Cassiopeia leaned forward and patted Nimue's hand. "I didn't mean it as a command, dear. I'm just telling you of all things you can do, if you'd like." She nodded at Romulus. "There is the potion. It costs a pretty penny and you still have to follow its instructions for immersion for a period of time but that's no hardship for us. And we can always have tutors for the children too, if you prefer."
Nimue relaxed. "I just…Don't take this wrong. Spending time here sounds lovely. I just…I have a job–" She snapped her head about to stare at her father as she realized something. "–I don't need a job anymore."
"Your job, only job if you want, is to raise the next generation properly," Arcturus noted as he tilted his wine glass at her in a vague salute.
Romulus reached out and grasped his daughter's hand. "No reason to rush about changing your life, Nimue. You've time to figure out what you want to do."
She slowly nodded as her gaze shifted to meet Godric's with no small amount of wonder before she nodded again, more at herself than anyone, and turned the broader table once more. "The potion would be helpful for me, either way. If the children are to learn French, they'll have an easier time if I speak it also."
Arcturus smiled. "Indeed. Perhaps we can plan a season with Cassie after the pregnancy. Vague plans for now. Once you have a better idea of what you'd like to do, we can plan it in more detail then." His gaze turned to Romulus. "Forgive me but we didn't get a chance to learn more about either of you. We have been focused on our goal and I hope that's understandable but…well, what do you do for a living?"
"Oh," muttered Romulus, reminding Godric of Nimue for a second with his startled expression. "I..uh..well…I'm an assistant potioneer for J. Pippin's Potions.–" He glanced at Godric and added, "In Hogsmeade."
Godric nodded, intrigued at the change of topic, and decided to finally get some answers, "Are there actual instructions for potion making? Like what does disemboweling a beetle's eye entail?"
Everyone stared across the table at Godric. Their little salad plates floated up and were replaced with similarly small plates with a large shell centered on each. Within the shell were large scallops baked in some type of creamy sauce.(4) The wine glasses vanished, whether they had liquid in them or not, and were replaced with a slightly differently shaped wine glass filled with a slightly different light-toned wine. Godric' glass of lemon drink was replaced with something else too.
"Ah," Godric muttered as he stared down at the delicate food and looked back up at Romulus, "Perhaps a talk for after the meal?"
"No, no," Romulus countered as he leaned toward Godric intently, "Did potions not exist when–" He cut himself off and glanced at the waiter slowly guiding the dirty salad dishes away. Romulus coughed lightly and said instead, "I've heard that the professor wasn't any good but to not even know how to prepare an ingredient–"
"Snape was a nasty boy," Nimue muttered as she copied Cassiopeia and cut one of the large scallops in half, "I imagine he's not much better older."(5)
Romulus grimaced.
Cassiopeia tilted her head thoughtfully at Nimue before she said slowly, "Did you grow up in Hogsmeade?"
The two redheads shifted in their seats. They shared a look before Nimue shrugged slightly and mumbled, "Lived there after I turned eleven."
Godric eyebrows rose involuntarily as he looked back at Romulus but tried not to accusatively. It was just…the man had taken his supposedly squib daughter to live in Hogsmeade right after learning she would not go to Hogwarts?
Romulus, sensing the judgment, lifted his chin defensively and stabbed a scallop as he snapped, "I needed the job–Rookwood made it difficult…My ministry position was because of his support and then he didn't just drop that support but actively tried to ruin us when it was Viveca's fault! She–" He cut himself off, shook his head sharply back and forth, and stuffed the whole scallop into his mouth.
"Right," Godric said and bluntly changed the subject because the man didn't really have to explain himself to them and shouldn't have to feel like he needed to. "I'll have to have you over sometime soon.–" Romulus relaxed and picked up his wine glass. "–The manor has a potions lab in the basement. If you could go over some basics with Sally and I, that would be brilliant."
The redhead choked on wine. Nimue reached out and helpfully patted her father's back.
A toothy smile spread across Cassiopeia's lovely face. "Well, well. To teach such prestigious figures. What an honor, my good sir."
Romulus stared helplessly wide eyes at her as she teased him. His face slowly grew vibrant red as he looked back at Godric. He opened his mouth to respond but only incoherent noise escaped.
Godric offered kindly, "Perhaps you can visit tomorrow for lunch and then, once Sally's back from his visit with Pater Black, you can go over things with us."
The man stared dumbfounded at Godric.
"I can help also," Nimue offered shyly, "I learned everything I could about all the magic I could potentially, maybe do. Never got more than the most basic potion to work but I am very good at the basics."(6)
"Really?" Arcturus lit up. "Very good. That will be fewer tutors to find, at least unless you'd like to gain your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in those subjects."
Nimue startled. "Tutors?"
"Well, our young gentlemen aren't going to be able to help you when they are at school themselves and there's no reason to hold you back because of that," huffed Arcturus, "You'll be stuck on theory while pregnant and for however long it takes to–uh–clean…uh..to prepare you for more but no reason to hold you back entirely."
She outright beamed across the table at him. Godric relaxed back in his seat as the little scallop plate was replaced with a little glass cup of some type of frozen treat. The other's cups had liquid in theirs also. The tangy of apples filled his mouth and Godric closed his eyes, content at where this had led him. (7)
oooPooo
Notes
I had to break this chapter in half because it was almost 20k words before adding two scenes that needed to be added. XD My goal of having a chapter cover at least a bleeding day of this holiday is turning out to be nearly impossible. Next chapter we get to see Sally at his second party and perhaps we'll gain some insight into the Bargeworthys.
I didn't get the chance to update past chapters with grammar fixes but I plan to do so over the next few days for as many chapters as I can get through. I apologize ahead of time for any notifications you receive.
1. Nimue is quoting from the Litany Against Fear in the first Dune novel.
2. The purebloods love their privacy and while most of that privacy would be selfishly tied to just themselves, there would be times when it would be easier to keep something private if all had that same level of privacy. So I thought it made some sense that at least some ministry works had at least a basic magically enforced secrecy charm on them via their contracts or bonds.
3. The adoption process from the last chapter was influenced by the Roman tradition of adoption. The second name was included as a form of acknowledgment of the adoption and ties into the various famous Roman Emperors whose first names changed, with the original first name becoming a secondary name, along with the family name. As Godric noted, her name is technically now Godiva but it's only a technicality for her.
The order she puts her name down isn't going to matter since the magic in her signatures will still prove she's who she is. In other words, as Salazar could sign official documents as Harry Potter, she could technically sign things as Godiva Gryffindor or Nimue Weasley…or Nimue Black now. I've debated if her name would have Black added at the end or replace the other surnames. Technically the Roman woman kept their names so by ritual not but the marriage contract is not tied to Roman tradition like the adoption ritual was so it likely replaced her surname. The Roman adoption process and this ritual would have turned Weasley from Surname to a secondary name though so, while this is unlikely to ever come up in the story, her name after marriage is like Godiva Nimue Clementine Weasley Black.
4. The baked scallops dish is Coquilles Saint-Jacques, a traditional Normandy dish. As Godric has never had this or any of the other dishes, if there is something magical to them he wouldn't have any context to notice it outside visually. So I didn't try to think of how to change up the dishes for magic.
5. Nimue is 26 to Sirius' 32 (Sirius was born 1959 but started at Hogwarts in 1971). So Sirius would have been a 6th year when she moved to Hogsmeade. Her sister being killed would have made the news, at least for a short moment before Rookwood had it buried. It would have been pretty clear why she was not at Hogwarts, whether people connected that news to her or not. Hogwarts students may not have treated her kindly on at least the first Hogsmeade visit, particularly because of the war. According to my randomly created family trees, the Pater of now (1991), and her cousin, would have been at Hogwarts as a 6th year also and so a roommate to Snape. He would have known his squib cousin had moved to Hogsmeade and would have paid her a visit with his buddies.
6. Due to how squibs are portrayed in this story, some magic might work for some of them depending on the amount of gunk blocking up their cores. Nimue is really bad off so when she's saying the most basic of potions, she does mean that. She cannot successfully create even half the first-year course of potions but a school course is for teaching which means the potions taught show different important facts of brewing and there must be potions not covered that are too similar to other potions. It might not come up in story but this minor ability for magic would be explained away as the ingredients having enough magic to allow the potion to be created.
7. Tangy apple treat is Trou Normand which is another classic Normandy dish served either between mains, particularly after a seafood dish, or as a dessert. The liquid is usually an apple liquor called Calvados. I have no idea if the liquor is served to underaged but I assumed not. The liquor present would be a magical take on it too.