Severus's arms ached, his muscles protesting every movement as he trudged back toward the farmhouse. He had woken up at the crack of dawn, barely catching a glimpse of the rising sun before being thrust into the demanding routine of farm life. It had all seemed quaint and picturesque yesterday, but the reality was anything but.

Collecting cow dung had been his first task, and it was as disgusting as it sounded. The smell alone was enough to make him gag, and his hands felt raw from the constant shoveling. He'd tried to keep a rhythm, tried to distract himself by thinking of potion recipes and spell theories, but the sheer physicality of the work kept dragging him back to the present.

"Why did I think this would be a good idea?" he muttered to himself, wincing as he flexed his fingers. "I'm a wizard, not a farmhand."

But the cows had only been the beginning. Next had come the horses, their large, expressive eyes watching him as if they knew he was out of his element. Cleaning their stalls was no easier, and the sheer volume of waste they produced was astonishing. His shoulders were screaming by the time he was done, and he hadn't even had a chance to rest before being sent to the chicken barn.

"Oh, the bloody chickens," he grumbled, kicking at a loose stone on the path. "Feathered demons, the lot of them."

Collecting eggs sounded simple enough, but the chickens were surprisingly aggressive, pecking at his hands and fluttering about in a frenzy. The barn was hot and stuffy, and by the time he was finished, he felt like he'd been through a battle.

And then there was the sheep. "Sheep," he scoffed. "Why do they even need so many animals?"

Cleaning the warehouse full of sheep droppings had been the final straw. The smell was worse than anything he'd encountered so far, and the sheer volume of work left him feeling utterly drained. His back hurt, his arms were like lead, and he was covered in a layer of grime that made him itch all over.

"I should be brewing potions, not shoveling manure," he thought bitterly, rubbing his sore neck. "I could be perfecting a new elixir or studying advanced spellwork, but no, here I am, playing farm boy."

He reached the farmhouse and paused, taking a deep breath. The scent of something cooking wafted out, and his stomach growled in response. Despite his grumbling, he couldn't deny the appeal of a home-cooked meal. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light.

"Severus, there you are!" his grandmother called from the kitchen. "Come on in, lunch is almost ready."

He shuffled in, trying not to show just how exhausted he was. "Thanks, Grandma."

Margaret glanced at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she took a good look at him. "Hard work, isn't it?"

"You have no idea," Severus said, collapsing into a chair. "I don't know how you do this every day."

She laughed, a warm, comforting sound to his own ears. "You get used to it, dear. Builds character, they say."

Severus snorted. "I'd rather pass." He replied. He had never felt so tired before. Well, he had never did so much physical work afterall.

Narcissa winced as Bellatrix was soundly defeated by their great aunt Cassiopeia. The older witch moved with a fluidity that belied her age, disarming Bellatrix with a flick of her wand and a cunning spell that sent a small ribbon made out of light flying into her face. A shallow cut marred Bellatrix's cheek where the ribbon cut her. Her sister scowled, rubbing at it.

"That wasn't fair!" Bellatrix protested, glaring at the older woman with everything she got. But Narcissa knew from the tone that there was no heat. "You used a ribbon-cutting spell to distract me."

Cassiopeia only laughed, a rich, hearty sound that filled the room. "Oh, Bellatrix, you must learn to expect the unexpected. In a duel, fairness is irrelevant. Adapt or fail."

Bellatrix's irritation was palpable, but she took the defeat in stride, brushing off her robes and straightening her posture. Narcissa watched quietly, admiring her sister's resilience even as she acknowledged the undeniable prowess of their great aunt. Cassiopeia's training had been the key reason Bellatrix had managed to evade marriage for so long, especially after the scandal with Andromeda. But even Cassiopeia's influence had its limits. Which was showing as Bellatrix's marriage had finally been fixed.

As the tension from the duel began to settle, a small house-elf appeared, balancing a tray laden with tea and biscuits. The elf's movements were quick but precise, the tray held high with practiced ease. Cassiopeia waved a hand, signaling them to sit and enjoy the tea. "Come, girls, sit. Bellatrix, you still have too much energy from our duel. Relax."

Narcissa moved to her seat with the grace and poise expected of her, her eyes glancing at Bellatrix who was still fuming but masking it well. Starting without their great aunt would be rude, and Narcissa had no desire to incur Cassiopeia's wrath. She had seen firsthand the severity of her aunt's punishments for breaches in decorum. She was one of the few ones who greatly enjoyed in inflicting pain.

Just as she settled into her seat, the house-elf stumbled. The tray wobbled precariously before tilting, sending a cascade of hot tea onto Narcissa's frock. She felt the searing heat through the fabric, her skin prickling in pain. Her gasp of shock was immediate, as was the transformation in her aunt.

Cassiopeia's expression hardened, her eyes flashing with anger instantly. "You clumsy, useless creature!" she barked, her voice slicing through the air. Narcissa flinched at the contact of the hot tea, but she held her tongue, knowing better than to interrupt her aunt's tirade.

The house-elf was trembling now. It immediately began to stammer apologies. "I-I'm s-s-so sorry, Mistress. I d-did not mean to—"

"You think an apology is enough?" Cassiopeia snarled, standing up abruptly from her chair. "I should take your head for this!"

The elf's eyes widened in terror, but it nodded frantically, its voice high-pitched and wavering. Narcissa recognised the defeat in it. The Black family had a rather peculiar tradition of taking the heads of family elves who were too old or had somehow irritated the family members of the family. "Yes, Mistress. T-T-Take my head. I have failed in my duties."

Narcissa felt a pang of unease. The severity of Cassiopeia's punishments was legendary, and while Narcissa was no stranger to harsh discipline, this felt excessive. She decided to intervene. It was foolish, but she could try. Besides Cassiopeia loved her nieces. "Great Aunt, perhaps the punishment can wait. The tea was an unfortunate accident, but we should not let it ruin our afternoon."

Cassiopeia turned her sharp gaze on Narcissa. The anger remained but now a glint of curiosity entered in her eyes. "And what do you suggest, my dear?"

Narcissa drew herself up, projecting the haughty demeanor she had perfected by birth. "I suggest that the elf be punished later. For now, she should rectify her mistake and bring us more tea. It would be a fitting lesson in humility. Let's not spoil our day with the blood of these vermins."

A slow grin spread across Cassiopeia's face. "Very well, Narcissa. Your logic is sound." She turned back to the elf, sneering. She took her glove and threw it to the elf's face. "You belong to my great-niece now. Serve her well, or face the consequences."

The elf's reaction was a comical mix of shock and wailing sadness. It dropped to its knees, its high-pitched voice trembling. "Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress. I will not fail again."

"See that you don't," Narcissa snapped, her voice cold. "Now, fetch us more tea. And be quick about it."

The elf scrambled to its feet and bolted from the room, leaving behind a lingering sense of tension. Cassiopeia sat back down, her expression one of amusement as she looked at Narcissa. "You handle yourself well, Narcissa. Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

Narcissa inclined her head, accepting the compliment with a gracious smile. She knew what that praise meant. She would be a great trophy wife and daughter of House Black. "Thank you, Great Aunt. I strive to uphold the family's honor."

Cassiopeia nodded approvingly before turning her attention back to Bellatrix, who was still nursing her wounded pride. "And you, Bellatrix, must learn to keep your temper in check. Emotions are a weakness in a duel. And perhaps more so in a married life. Better learn to reign your temper before your husband does it for you."

Bellatrix gave a tight-lipped smile, though her eyes still burned with frustration. "Yes, Aunt."

The tension eased as the house-elf returned, this time with a new tray of tea and biscuits. Narcissa watched the creature carefully, ensuring there were no further mishaps. As they began to sip their tea, the conversation shifted to more mundane topics, the earlier incident seemingly forgotten.

Narcissa's mind, however, was still racing. The display of power and control by her great aunt had been a vivid experience. Even at that age, she was a force to deal with. No wonder Bellatrix tutored under her.