As always, thank you for all the kind reviews. They mean a lot to me. We got a couple that threw me off, complaining about the fact that Harry/Hydrus is missing half an arm? I'm hoping they just assumed that it would be a cheesy set up for pity/angst moments, and that it's not that they just have the weirdest prejudice ever by disliking characters with disabilities, especially considering how little it plays into Hydrus's character. This chapter is as good a place as any to say (especially since I'm writing a HP fanfic in 2023) I'm about as left-leaning as they come, and characters can/will be from all walks of life.


Hydrus sat thumping his foot against the ground in the Great Hall as he waited for dinner to begin. Two thirds of the school had gone out to greet the incoming foreigners, but he was more than content to wait for them inside where it was warm. Almost all of the Slytherins had gone without him, only a handful of fifth and seventh years stayed behind studying as well as a lone first year, Dahlia. He was doing his best to ignore the glances she kept sending his way, and wished there was some way to explain to her that unlike with Bellatrix, there would never, under any circumstances, be a chance of him returning the affection.

Finally he heard the sounds of the Great Hall doors opening, and before too much longer he was surrounded by Slytherins and more than a handful of Durmstrang students. Draco had sat a certain quidditch star down between them.

"Viktor Krum, this is my cousin, Hydrus Black."

Hydrus gave a grunt in greeting, and received one back in turn. He'd liked the Bulgarian well enough during his own timeline, but right now it seemed they were in silent agreement that they'd prefer to keep any sort of introduction short as they waited for food to arrive. Thankfully Dumbledore kept his speech about international cooperation and competitiveness short, and soon they were devouring their dinners.

Draco, wisely, had waited until they were slowing down to try and broker further conversation. "So, Hydrus, who do you think the champion for Hogwarts will be?"

"Tough to say," he said after swallowing his last bite of mashed potatoes. "For the other two schools I'd feel safe saying their champions will be Krum for Durmstrang, Delacour for Beauxbatons." The other Durmstrang students shot him dark looks, but he didn't particularly care. "I'd say the three most likely for Hogwarts are myself, Harry Potter, and Cedric Diggory."

"Potter I can at least agree is annoyingly talented, but Diggory?" Draco asked with a scoff. "The Hufflepuff?"

"Your inability to look past tie colours is disappointing," Hydrus chided. "Cedric is without a doubt the best wizard of his year. I'd certainly have had a tougher time against him than I did our own seniors."

Draco looked away with a pouting frown, but Krum spoke up. "You are too young to be chosen."

"Call it arrogance if you wish," Hydrus said. "But I should think you of all people can appreciate being better than your age would imply."

Krum snorted at that. "You're not bad without a wand, at least."

Hydrus furrowed his brow at the comment until he remembered the invisible 'juggling' act he did before and during each meal in order to fill up his plate.

"My cousin's got the rest of us wondering if he even needs a wand," Draco said with a smirk. "He can do pretty much any spell without it."

"I've told you before it's not that hard." Hydrus took a sip from his drink without setting his fork back down to emphasise his point. "Have you even tried practising?"

"Of course I have." The blonde's flushed over cheeks told a different story. "It's just not that easy for the rest of us."

"Then keep trying until it is," Hydrus said. "It just requires more power, more intent, to achieve what you want to happen. If you get good at it, it'll make using your wand and verbalizations that much easier in comparison."

"Excuse me." Hydrus turned to see the nostalgic sight of Fleur, no doubt about to ask for… "Are you wanting the bouillabaisse?"

Right, that's what it was called. It was strange that she'd come to Slytherin this go around instead of Gryffindor. He wondered if it was another example of fate doing its best to restore patterns and order, if his refusal to touch the stuff simply meant that once more the bowl nearest him was the fullest, or if it was just a complete coincidence. If he ever wrote a tell-all, 'come and get me, Unspeakables' book, perhaps someone would be able to educate him.

He levitated it over to her. "There you are," he said. "Enjoy."

With that he returned to his own dishes, paying no mind to the gawking at, or in Krum's case obvious side-eyeing of, the 'quarter' veela that went on around him. He only half-acknowledged her saying thank you, far too distracted with the delicious chateaubriand he was feasting on. If he remembered right, it was a cut of beef cooked while stuck between two 'lesser' sections, and each bite filled his mouth with a savory splash of flavour and seasoning that only served to make him even more excited to be finished with the 'main' portion so that he could sop up the remaining gravy with his bread.

"Who was that?" Draco asked. "She's gorgeous."

"That was Fleur Delacour," Hydrus said between bites, coming back to reality himself after pausing to truly enjoy the near-end of his meal. "The one I believe will be their champion."

"How do you know her?" the blonde boy asked, jealousy tainting his voice. "I've never heard of her."

"Your father probably has." He tried not to take too much pleasure in using the boy's usual daddy-boasting against him. "Her family owns several vineyards back in France. Their reds are to die for, and the whites aren't bad either."

"I don't know about wines," Krum rumbled. "But she's certainly easy on the eyes."

Hydrus chuckled. "She gets it from her grandmother a veela named Francine."

"Veela?" Draco turned to unabashedly take another glance at the blonde. "She's a veela?"

"Quarter." Hydrus said. "Her father, and her grandmother's husband, are or were both pure blood wizards."

Biologically speaking there was almost no difference. Legally, on the other hand, the children of Veela were only recognized as even 'partially' human if their fathers were wizards. Only once you got to one thirty-second veela would the offspring be considered fully human, and even then only if the children weren't capable of the veela magic. If at any point during the 'dilution' they married a muggle instead, it would start all over. There wasn't much of a genetic difference, males were just as human as anything and the women were almost just as veela, but traditions refused to bow before common sense, as always.

"Do you know this much about every vineyard owner's family?" Draco muttered. "Or just the pretty ones?"

"Just the ones who make my favourite wine." Hydrus took a sip of his water, wishing that it was a glass of their Rêves de Passion right now. "Once you've developed a better palette for the stuff, believe me when I say you'll start keeping track as well."

"If you say so," the boy grumbled, clearly still not over the effect Fleur had on him. "So you finally entered your name in?"

"Bellatrix did it for me," Hydrus admitted. "She didn't take kindly to me trying not to participate."

"No surprise there, I promise we'll be cheering you on."

"Just make sure to burn my body if I die," he said with a wink. "The last thing we need is her becoming a necromancer on my account."


"Take your time," Hydrus said. He corrected the fifth year's grip on his wand, and nudged the boy's foot out a bit to fix his stance. "Imagine a bubble growing from the tip of your wand, and your magic is the air expanding it. Don't think about it popping or running out of breath, just keep pressing your magic out."

The fifth-year nodded. "Protegigante!"

Once more the advanced shield expanded outwards, and Hydrus began taking steps back as it spread much further than last time. His fellow fourth years were all writing essays, but he hadn't been able to say no when the older OWL students had asked him to help them practise their charms work. It'd been two weeks since the seventh years had 'rebelled', and it seemed the fifth years had decided to simply fall in line and accept his dominance. The spell that… Rodger? Robert? Whatever the fifth-year's name was; the spell he was trying now was technically a bit above what he and the others should be working on, but they would be able to practise without disrupting other students once they'd mastered it.

Hydrus tried not to sigh along with the fifth-year when the shield 'popped' after reaching a span of around ten feet.

"Better," he said. "Much better. Tomorrow we'll start with this, so that way you're not all exhausted by the time we get around to it."

The other teens who'd already had their turns trying nodded and began to disperse. "I'll get it next time," the boy he'd been helping said. "Thanks, Black."

"Of course."

With that, Hydrus made his way over to the third years who were working on some basic transfigurations. All of the younger students had taken to 'joining' the fourth years' study sessions, though for the most part the years kept to themselves. Hydrus typically allowed them to handle things on their own, but either he or one of his friends and followers would help out whenever someone would come over to ask a question. Since he'd already broken off from his year-mates though, he decided to do a quick walk through. Most stiffened up around him before doubling down on their efforts as he passed.

He stopped behind a girl who hadn't noticed his presence as she focused on turning her small block of stone, he'd conjured up practice materials for them, into a teacup. Her movements were mechanical and she was obviously tensing her whole body, but there wasn't anything technically wrong with what she was doing, so he simply observed. After three more tries it finally bent to her will.

"Well done." The girl squealed at his 'sudden' appearance and spun around to face him. "But you should relax more when you're casting; allow the magic to flow from you rather than trying to squeeze it out."

"Th-, Thank you." She swallowed. "I will."

Hydrus nodded and continued on his way, the students who'd stopped at her exclamation returned to their own blocks and once more redoubled their efforts. He moved onto the second years who made sure to ask him some questions about their potions essays. Last it was the first years and they were situated on the ground before a fireplace, circled around a single pillow and taking turns trying to make it levitate.

When one of them managed to get it in the air, he called, "Hold it there."

The boy's eyes widened and it nearly fell, but he managed to keep it up. Hydrus simply watched as the seconds ticked on, and ignored the sweat that began to pool on the boy's brow. Nearly a minute passed before it dropped, and he cut in before the boy could apologise.

"Wonderful," he said. "Seeing how long you can hold the object in the air is a good way to train your magical reserves, especially since it allows you to compare your past results to future ones." He smiled at the nodding child. "Though, I would recommend trying to breathe whilst you do so. It'll be much easier that way."

That earned him a round of laughter and their 'study session' quickly changed to a game to see who could hold it up the longest. Hydrus left them to it and returned to his fourth years who were all too concentrated on their homework to greet him properly. He patted Draco on the back as he sat down beside him, then stretched and sunk deep into the couch.

This was the life. He had a beautiful woman's perfume still clinging to him, a full belly, a warm fire, and the respect of his 'peers'. Life had been nothing but terror and running, pain and death, ever since his original run at being fourteen, but for the first time in decades he could finally just relax. He closed his eyes and just allowed the sounds of studying and joking to pass over his head.

"Hydrus?" Draco interrupted after a few minutes.

"Hm?"

"You know much about divination?" The boy sounded annoyed at the subject, and Hydrus didn't blame him. "I don't know what on earth to write."

"All I know is that prophecies suck," he said. "The real ones, anyways."

Tamina scoffed. "Let me guess, you've had to deal with some prophecy that said you'd have to kill a dragon or a chimaera or something."

"Not quite," he said with a coy grin. "I just find people who take them too seriously to be rather… tiring."

That was certainly one word for Voldemort.

"Trelawney is definitely another professor I wouldn't mind seeing replaced," Draco said with a sneer. "I swear that woman is higher than a hippogriff the way she teaches."

That gave Hydrus pause. Hadn't Dumbledore told him that the only reason she'd been hired was because she gave a prophecy, the prophecy, during her interview? He wondered if there was some new bit of divination that would ruin his life waiting for him at the Department of Mysteries. If there was, he immediately decided he'd avoid coming off any more like his archenemy by obsessing over it and uprooting his life because of it.

"Just be glad we got rid of Quirrell," Blaise said. "I swear that man was going to have us all failing our OWLs."

"I didn't think he was too bad," Hellena said. Like Shnopps, the boy Hydrus had learned was her cousin, she rarely spoke up, but she was usually around the group thanks to her attachment to Tamina. "He was nice."

"You only liked him because his class was easy," Draco grumbled.

"And you only like Black cus she's your aunt," Tamina snapped back at him. "If she weren't, you wouldn't get away with half the mistakes you make."

"Settle down," Hydrus ordered before Tamina's protective nature and Draco's proud one truly began to boil. "Let's just all be glad for the fact that dinners have become so much more enjoyable thanks to our guests."

That earned him a laugh from everyone, his legendary appetite emphasising why he'd claim that was cause for celebration. A brief discussion broke out about the various new food stuffs they found on their tables these days, but Hydrus wasn't allowed peace for long before Draco asked him another question.

"Have you asked any of them to the dance yet?" he said. "That was your plan, right?"

"I'll wait till after the champion selection," Hydrus answered. "Not to sound too arrogant, but unless Diggory is even more talented than I give him credit for, I'll most likely be selected, and that'll help my cause a great deal."

"I'm not sure how much help you'll need," Daphne said. "One of the Durmstrang girls actually pulled me aside to ask if you had a girlfriend."

Hydrus snorted. "Did you tell her, 'No, the Defense professor would never let him have one of those', in response?"

That got him another round of laughter, either at the self-deprecation, or the awful impression of Daphne.

"All I told her was that I didn't know for sure," she said, her tone promising him some sort of rebuttal. "But that it wouldn't surprise me with the lipstick marks we've seen on your collar before."

He scoffed. "As if Bellatrix would ever let me walk around with something that would scare off potential brides."

It was a poorly-kept 'secret' that the Defense teacher's affections were a bit more than appropriate. It had been a bit surprising, to Hydrus anyways, how little most students seemed to care, but he supposed he was in Slytherin. It seemed no one in this glass neighbourhood felt it wise to start throwing stones.

"Speaking of potential brides," Pansy said to Daphne. "Has your father found a husband for you yet?"

Immediately Hydrus tuned the thinly-veiled fencing out. He feared that as the year went on those two would become intolerable the way they bickered, and he was tempted to pull Pansy aside and get her to knock it off since she was always the one to start it. It was almost a relief when one of the third years came up to him to ask about what to write in his essay about Salamanders.

Now that was a cold-blooded, fire-breathing creature whose mating habits didn't drive him up a wall.


Sirius wasn't sure if he or Bones was the most surprised to find themselves together at a fancy, candle-lit restaurant sharing a bottle of wine and waiting for their dinner to arrive.

She was wearing a ruby-red dress with a slit up the side that had nearly made him break his self-imposed vow not to crack any blue jokes. Her hair was down for once, cascading past her shoulders and she played with a lock of it now as she sipped her wine. He was dressed in fine grey robes that Lily had helped him pick out, and he hoped that he didn't look too much like a stuck-up, pure blood ponce.

"I think this is the longest you've ever gone without saying anything," Bones said. "Since when do you get nervous?"

He smiled, both at the joke and in relief that she'd broken the ice. "You try sitting across from the prettiest lady in the joint."

'Careful, Sirius,' he thought to himself despite the smile she gave him. 'We're not just here for a lay.'

"You really are-," she cut herself off to think. "Genuinely trying here, aren't you?"

"I am," he said after snorting when he realised she'd been about to say 'serious about this'. "I genuinely can't imagine anyone else I'd want in a situation like this."

"Are you finally going to explain what's got Britain's most eligible, notoriously-experienced bachelor suddenly asking his superior to marry him?" she asked. "Because believe me when I say you're lucky I agreed to this date without knowing ahead of time."

Sirius swallowed.

"I have a son," he said. "Fourteen or so. Good, strong kid."

"So I've heard." He winced, remembering how suddenly he dumped that on her. "My niece is in the same year as him, though she's in Hufflepuff. Rumour has it he's quite the prodigy."

"I'm not just saying this as his father," Sirius said. "But you need to clear up room in the budget to make him whatever offer you can possibly manage to try and get him in the department."

He told her about Hydrus's experience with the seventh years, and didn't allow her bemused smile to diminish the pride he told the story with. After he was finished, he transitioned into telling her about his interactions with the boy, and how it led him back to his grandfather's doorstep. Their meals arrived just before he began telling her about Arcturus's demand, but she allowed him to finish before they tucked in.

Other than a few comments about the food itself, which led to them swapping a small portion of each plate to try one another's choices, they ate in silence. Sirius hoped it wasn't half as awkward for her as it was for him. At the very least it seemed he'd made a fine choice in restaurant; a little place in France that he'd only been to once before after some international auror conference that he'd been forced to give the big speech at. He'd told her about it afterwards and despite her saying she'd have to try it some time, it seemed this was her first visit.

"So." She set her fork down, and Sirius knew the real talks were about to begin. "You just need a pure blood wife, and want me to do it for you?"

"I know it's not the most romantic thing in the world," Sirius said. "But I also know there's no real way to position this to change that. I'm just hoping that you don't find me half as annoying as you let on, and that you can believe that I'm not half the reprobate my reputation would let on."

She hummed but didn't respond, so he continued.

"Despite my best efforts, I am still a Black, so it wouldn't be that hard to find some half-rate family who'd kill their daughter for my favour, let alone let her marry me." He shook his head dismissively. "But I don't want that. I want someone who I could actually enjoy my marriage with, and that's a short list of prospects." He took a sip of his wine to bolster his courage and wet his throat. "You're a beautiful, intelligent, powerful woman. We could actually talk about our jobs together, instead of having to keep things confidential. I enjoy our banter, and promise I'd tone down some of the jokes.

"And that's another thing," he continued on. "If we did this, I swear you'd be the only woman in my life. I may be, as you put it, 'notoriously-experienced', but I'm as loyal as they come, and would never do anything to hurt you. I… I know we'd be skipping some steps, but I promise I'd do whatever you want to make you happy."

Again she didn't say anything, and he was left to squirm. He took another drink, trying and no doubt failing to play it cool. The silence reigned for another few moments before she finally spoke up.

"You know," she said. "You're kind of cute when you live up to your namesake."

He smiled. "I'm glad you think so."

"I'm actually a bit surprised by you," Bones continued. "Truth be told, if it weren't for the way you looked talking about Hydrus, I'd think this was all some joke. You never struck me as the type to take that sort of responsibility well."

"I wouldn't have thought so either," Sirius admitted. "It's been the strangest time of my entire life."

"Why not set up a clause in the marriage contract to allow a strings-free divorce after three years, when Hydrus is of age?" she asked. "Can't adopt a grown man."

"I wouldn't ask that of you." He looked her in the eyes to try and show his sincerity. "If you want that, I certainly won't object, but I'm asking you to marry me here. You deserve for it to be the best, most sincere marriage possible."

"And would your grandfather accept the fact that, 'alliance' or not, my father isn't going to suddenly swap blocs?" Amelia raised an eyebrow at him. "What if Arcturus goes back on his word?"

"Then I would have to hope my wife could help me beat some murder charges."

She laughed. "Already trying to get used to calling me that, huh?"

"It was easier than I thought," he said, grinning. "Even if you're not sure after tonight, would you be offended if I told him we were in negotiations?"

"Oh?" She smirked at him. "Isn't that actually where we're at with this?"

Sirius's grin only grew larger.


Albus Dumbledore reclined in his chair, trying to decide what to do about the predicament he now faced. In his experience, decisions like this rarely got easier with time, but they all required the chronological resource in spades. Countless pros and cons flashed across his mind, results and consequences that would have their own ramifications and outcomes. He stroked his beard and wished for all the world that magic actually had all the answers, as he had once believed in his youth. Instead he was forced to make a choice.

"I shall have it now," he declared, before reaching out to take the last lemon drop. "Live each day as if it were your last, as they say."

Fawkes seemed to trill his agreement, though it came low and quiet since the bird was nearing the end of its 'life'span.

Finally sucking on the succulent treat, he resumed his work of going over the proposal Severus had given him. It seemed young Hydrus's study group had only grown since the unfortunate incident with the seventh years, and the staff were all quite pleased with the results. It was no surprise to see that Bellatrix had co-signed it, and even offered to have her family supply funding for the club. He certainly couldn't say no to that part at least, and he supposed there was very little to say no to in the rest of the document either.

The headmaster had reviewed the memory the boy left behind several times now. The little 'lecture' the boy gave at the end's message wasn't something that Albus found entirely disagreeable, though the threats and posturing he did throughout left him a bit perturbed. Then again, if he had a lemon drop for every embarrassing moment he could recall from his own youth with Gellert, the delusions of grandeur they once had… Well, he would've wasted a lot less of this evening.

The most interesting part of watching it all though was the battle and the way the boy fought, the way he used transfigurations and enemy-positioning to wreak havoc on his foes. It was almost as if he had studied Albus's own battle tactics, had learned from the headmaster directly. He had turned the seventh years' make-shift ramparts from tables into chains that attacked them like boa constrictors, deflected spells more often than he shielded himself from them, and maintained a cool and domineering presence that brokered no room for them to ever think they had him back pedalling.

If it weren't for the fact that the boy seemed more intent on building up others than putting them down, it would've terrified him.

'I'm not scared of power.'

The boy reminded him so much of his old lover. If he'd mentioned some dream of improving the world rather than protecting it, it would've been uncanny. The way he met Albus's eyes without a hint of awe, spoke to him with no more formality than was 'befitting', referenced his eventual place on top of the world as if it were an eventuality rather than a possibility…

Albus shook his head.

It wouldn't do to dwell on the boy for too long. He had a whole school of children that he was responsible for, and thus far Hydrus had done nothing wrong. He signed off his approval for the Study Club to be formed, and set the document aside. The next one was another petition from the board to either replace Sybill or remove the Divination class entirely. He sighed and made to reject it out of hand, but an old memory came to his mind unbidden.

'From the tapestry his pathway burns,

Thus the new lord arrives and returns.

Pieces of the warrior fall in time

Crushed under the weight of what he must climb

Twice dead, thrice born, no grave to call his own

Behold, behold, king of an empty throne.'

It had been the first and only prophecy Albus had ever witnessed. At the time he'd been trying to find an excuse to cancel the class himself, but feeling the primordial power pouring from Sybill had completely changed his stance on the matter. So far she'd done little to reinforce that decision, but his contacts within the Unspeakables assured him it was a nice and accurate prophecy. Admittedly, they'd also said that its contents were hardly anything worth worrying over.

According to them there were countless prophecies with similarly awe-demanding phrasings, but rarely did it matter if the prophecy didn't have any specifics to go off of. The only part of this one that even made it slightly noteworthy was the word 'lord', but considering the term could refer to anyone from an actual dark lord to any wizard on the Wizengamot, they still didn't concern themselves too much.

Briefly, Albus wondered if perhaps the future Lord of House Black was the one the prophecy was about, but a much more pressing concern made itself known.

"Alas," he sighed to Fawkes and whichever headmasters' portraits were around. "I've finished off my candy."


Arcturus Black sat in pain. He contemplated how much he really loved his family as Walburga ranted and raved. The old cow had heard of Hydrus's existence, and he'd finally granted her an audience so she could make her displeasure at the sudden grandson known.

"Unacceptable!" she practically screeched. "Sirius is cast out, and his son has no right to my family!"

Now that was too far. "Orion. Silence her or I will do it for you."

His son, still dutiful as ever, did as he was asked and shot the cow a glare that at least temporarily stopped the deluge. With a sigh of relief, Arcturus drank from his whiskey and enjoyed the silence. When he'd first brought Hydrus into his home he knew this meeting would happen, but it didn't make having to deal with her any more pleasant.

"Hydrus is everything the house has needed for so long," Arcturus said. "He's powerful, dignified, loyal." He stared down Walburga who didn't flinch back. "Obedient."

"What about Sirius?" Orion asked, quietly. "Walburga is right, he's been disowned."

"I've already met with him." He dismissed the concern with a wave of his hand. "He's been given a task, and will be reinstated if he accomplishes it."

"What?!"

Arcturus slammed his cane against the ground hard enough that it sent shocks of pain throughout his body, though he didn't show it. "The next time you open your mouth without permission I swear to Merlin that I will strike you from this hallowed house, is that clear?"

Finally seeming to understand the gravity of her situation, Walburga nodded. Honestly, he almost wished she would speak out of turn again just so he could be through with her and her incessant screaming and wailing.

"How powerful is he?" Orion asked. "He's only fourteen, correct?"

"In terms of raw power?" Arcturus started, enjoying the short build up. "He's got me beat, so you can imagine what he's like beside you." Now that got the pair's attention. "Bellatrix says he's already taken hold of all of Slytherin after that incident with the seventh years. If I didn't have her managing his personal activities, I'd be buried beneath the betrothal requests we're receiving.'

His heart nearly soared when Walburga opened her mouth, but sadly she closed it without saying anything.

Orion, on the other hand, did speak up. "Do you plan to make him heir?"

"Hmph." Arcturus eyeballed his son. "Not yet. But considering the state of your own children, I'm sure you can see why I'm making the moves that I am."

"Regulus-"

"Only takes the cocks out of his ass long enough for his mother to stick her arm up there and use him as a puppet." Orion looked away in shame while Walburga seemed like she was about to explode. "I haven't even seen the boy in two years. Regardless of anything else, he most certainly will not be the head of this family."

"I assume we'll be able to meet Hydrus over his winter break?" Orion asked, obviously trying to move the conversation away from his youngest son and the misguided 'tastes' he had. "I'd like to take the measure of my grandson myself."

"Of course," Arcturus said. "We might have to make a show of things, however. With that silly Tournament going on it's looking likely that he'll be named Hogwarts Champion. We'll need to make use of the press."

"If he's half the wizard you've made him out to be, it would be likely." Orion was stroking his beard now; it seemed the man had only just realised that Hydrus was, in fact, his grandson. "Will we be hosting it at the old manor?"

"I have Kreacher cleaning the place up now."

Before they could continue, the sound of the floo going off brought a smile to Arcturus's face. It was seeming more and more likely that he would get his wish of being rid of Walburga, especially when his assumption about who the guest could be was proven true by Sirius stepping into the parlour. The boy stiffened at the sight of his parents.

Arcturus laughed. "Well, the prodigal brat returns."

"You already made that joke," Sirius said snidely, then his lip curled upwards as he took in Walburga's silence. "How charming."

"Sirius," Orion said curtly. "What are you doing here?"

Sirius turned to Arcturus without even looking at his father. "Call off the dog, I'm in negotiations for a marriage."

"Who is it?" Arcturus said. "Earn your place back in this family."

The boy bristled, but didn't waver. "Amelia Bones. Auror Captain, heir apparent to the Head of the DMLE, and a pure blood scion. She's the daughter of the current head of house, aunt to the next."

Arcturus nodded, pleased. Gordon Bones was a hard man, and although he doubted the muggle-sympathiser would join his side of the Wizengamot, an alliance would at least earn him more votes the next time the coconut charcoal debate came up.

"We were just discussing plans for a Yule party," he said. "You'll bring her around so I can meet her. Hydrus will be attending as well."

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself. It seemed fatherhood really had done his favourite grandson wonders. "Fine. And Bellatrix?"

"I already told her to call it off," Arcturus grumbled. "I can't have her adopting the boy if she's going to marry him."

"What?" Sirius snapped. "That had better be a joke."

"It is not." Arcturus met his grandson's eyes, and warmth filled him at the boy's spine for meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "She shall be his first wife, and will be responsible for finding the others."

"Others?" His grandson looked genuinely perturbed for some reason. "Doesn't he get any say in this?"

"Ha!" Arcturus barked. "Hydrus practically came up with the idea himself, at least the part where he married Bella." Sirius seemed to deflate at that. "Unlike you, he knows how to handle himself as the potential heir to the family."

"Right." Sirius shook his head derisively. "I'll see you for Christmas then."

He stormed out, and once the sound of the floo confirmed he was gone, the patriarch turned his attention back to his eldest son. "You see that? He's become much more manageable."

"He still acts like a child," Orion said dismissively. "He looked like a toddler stomping off to his room."

"Orders were followed, and that's what matters," the old soldier said. "Even after I told him that Bellatrix wasn't going to be adopting the boy, he didn't try and weasel out of the marriage."

"That was the deal you worked out?" Orion scoffed. "He has to get married, and you would bring him back into the family and not let Bellatrix adopt his son?"

"Wasn't that what made your cow cast him out in the first place, him refusing to consent to his marriage contract?" Arcturus asked, hoping to finally push Walburga over the edge. He only got a smouldering glare from the sow, unfortunately. "Besides, if he does manage to bag Bones, it will come in handy."

"As you say, father." Orion stood, Walburga following his lead, and bowed. "We appreciate you granting us an audience."

"Right, right," he said. "Walburga, I shall expect better from you in the future. I am too old for the patience needed to deal with your screeching. There will be no warning the next time you try and deafen me, is that clear?"

"Yes, father."

She said it with a tone that implied she found the word as disgusting on her tongue as it was on his ears, but at least she said it at a reasonable volume. He waved his hand to dismiss them, and soon he was alone once more.

Bellatrix had been near-constantly pestering him with stories about her 'little water snake' ever since his arrival, so Arcturus no longer took these moments of solitude for granted. He'd once almost found this summer home to be 'lonely' with nothing to do but work and reminisce. The thought of going to more parties and having to deal with sycophants and mistakenly self-important twats was an even worse proposition though, so he'd not been left with much choice. Now? Now he could enjoy the peace and quiet.

"Lord Master Black." He groaned at Kreacher's arrival. "Is you wanting the black table clothes or the silver?"

Merlin, he needed Hydrus to grow up already.