CHAPTER 4 - Carry On Wayward Son (Act 2)
22 July 1994 - Ron's Room - The Burrow, 7:47AM
"Now, ssswisssh-and-flick!"
"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSsSA."
To Ron's pleasure, the fluffy feather floated gently into the air, hovering about a foot above his desk. Eyes lightly squinting, he focused his magic on keeping the feather level, ensuring that it didn't rise too far up or sink back to his desk. After some seconds, Ron gently guided the object back to his desk.
"Exxxcccellent work, Ron! Clear and concissse pronunccciation, coupled with the right visssualization and mental focusss. SSSuperb!"
"Thanksss SSSteve. I'm getting much better at thisss."
The sidewinder nodded astutely, comfortably draped over Ron's brand-new headboard. "Absssolutely. The Wu-XXXi-Do is helping consssiderably - the water and air katasss essspecccially. Your magic and memory recall are much more sssteady, asss is your enunccciation with the ssserpent'sss tongue."
"Yeah, I can feel the differenccce with the spellcasssting and…you know…ssspeaking Parssseltongue." Steve nodded agreeably. The meditative katas were definitely helping in keeping him calmer and more even-tempered, enough to get comfortable conversing in the snake language and learn to cast spells.
Ron also wasn't plagued by the horrific nightmares he used to get upon the first few months after his recovery in Shamballa.
Well, almost all the nightmares.
One particular vision stood out in particular, and it filled the Gryffindor with primal fright.
The pale light of a blurred full moon…
Shadows of seven others surrounding him…
The dissonant voice of a strange backwards-sounding language filling the too-warm night air…
A thick pool of blood coating his skin…
An incongruous whine filling the space all around him…
Crawling from the depthless dark towards a small flicker of light…
Voicccesss of the unssseen whissspering hisss name…
Trawling through sludge…
Consuming the scent of copper…warm flesh… the manna of life itself…
The shift from inhuman to human consciousness…senses heightening…renewal…
Bursting from a husk into a form of his true self…
Maddened chittering…
Warm wood touching his palm…
POWER…
"RONALD BILIUSSS WEASSSLEY!"
The boy jumped at the sudden yell of his name.
"Dear boy, isss everything alright?" asked Steve concernedly. "You ssseemed…lossst for a moment there."
"SSS'alright," the boy replied unconvincingly, trying to ignore the sudden racing of his heart and the sweating of his palms. Taking a few practiced breaths, Ron felt himself grow calm.
"I'm fine SSSteve," he said with much more conviction. "Jussst got a bit dissstracted there…nothing to worry about."
The serpent looked skeptical, but nonetheless acquiesced with a soft nod.
"Right then, onwardsss to the nexxxt lessson. The SSSnake SSSummonsss SSSpell! We've tackled the non-venomousss messsenger variety, now…it'sss time to exxxpand your arsssenal to the more…poisssonousss variety, a necccesssity for your offensssive ssspell you've massstered thisss, we can advanccce to sssummoning magical sssnakesss. It'sss of the utmossst importanccce that you grasssp this assspect of Conjuration Magicksss, asss that branch of Transssfiguration isss critical in the ssstudy of the Healing Artsss. That, and the sssymbolic connection between ssserpentsss and healing. But more on that later. You've reviewed your notesss?"
Ron responded in the positive.
"Exxxcccellent. We will exxxperiment with differing sssizesss asss it directly correlatesss to how much power you exxxpel. We'll ssstart sssmall. Now, focusss on the mental image of an adder. Envisssion it no larger than the length of your palm… ssscalesss… fangsss ssshining with venom… now cassst!"
"SsSERPENSsSORTIA!"
An adder the size of Ron's arm shot out of his wand, considerably larger than he'd wanted. Unfortunately, his aim was focused on his open bedroom window, causing the pissed off serpent to sail right out the window into the open field.
"Ratsss!" Ron exclaimed.
"Not what we intended," snarked Steve, causing his student to pink and mumble a soft apology. "No worriesss young SSSpeaker, you'll jussst have to retrieve it. And barring that… well… I'm cccertain thossse clever Twinsss have sssome anti-venom on hand."
"Knowing thossse two? More than lik- wait… WHAT?!"
The Black Cottage - Outer Machynlleth - Wales, 11:39AM
"C'est si bon de te revoir, Maman."
With practiced ease, Arthur dusted a kiss on his mother's cheeks as he gently embraced her. He effortlessly slipped into a small gentlemanly bow, causing the older witch to titter delightedly.
"Enchanté, mon coeur!"
Cedrella Black-Weasley dipped into an elegant courtesy, her carved snakewood walking staff providing just the right balance. Its head was fashioned into a silver cobra, hood flared menacingly. The tall witch was draped in a fashionable high-collared summer dress patterned with pink roses and breezy bishop sleeves. Velvet kiltie loafers in soft beige adorned her feet, complementing the off white pearls adorning her neck. Her silver-streaked copper red locks were fashionably knotted into an elegant chignon, a few wisps left to frame her face.
Overall she was the image of well-bred noblesse, befitting a daughter of House Black and La Famille Rousseau.
Continuing her path down the Weasleys lined up in front of her Floo, Cedrella reached Molly. The two exchanged brief air kisses as the older witch complimented the younger on the success of her new business. The growing reversal of the Weasley fortune was readily obvious, as the entirety of the brood sported brand-new summer robes.
The more perceptive of the brood recognized the lingering frostiness between the two women, a years-long chill on account of Cedrella's disapproval of Molly as a choice of wife for her only son. She'd preferred Camellia Brown (née Blishwick), Mildred Boot (née Burke), or even Shelley Abbott as an infinitely more suitable option for Arthur and his potential in reviving House Weasley to its rightful eminence, but alas, her son's heart wanted what it wanted.
What kind of mother would she be to deny him that which she'd achieved for herself?
"Mémé, always wonderful to see you." Bill bowed as was appropriate, dusting a light kiss on Cedrella's cheeks.
"William," she replied indulgently, pale blue eyes affectionately warm. "Mon chouchou, as dashing as ever. How goes the Cursebreaking?"
Bill chuckled. "It goes. As usual." He winked disarmingly, causing his grandmother to giggle in delight.
"Charles, mon grand! You look fitter every time I see you!" The second-born Weasley son chuckled good-naturedly, repeating Bill's greeting. While he'd always possessed a more robust physique than his brothers, the past few years added even more hulking muscles, a result of physically wrangling dragons.
"Percival, mon chevalier."
He bowed and brushed a gallant kiss on her wrist. "Tu as l'air aussi belle que jamais, mémé." All noted his flawlessly-lilted français du Sud-Ouest, with the twins exchanging amused glances.
Tittering girlishly, his grandmother replied: "Congratulations are in order for your new Ministry position - the Department of International Magical Co-Operation, how exciting!"
Her grandson smiled. "I aim to do my best," was his demure response.
"As always." Cedrella turned to the twins, expression already mirthful. "Mon fripones, what am I going to do with the two of you, hm?"
Fred and George gave matching mysterious smiles before they each took their grandmother's hands whilst bending a knee. The action caused Molly and Arthur's nerves to ratchet up, wondering what scheme the two incorrigible boys had cooked up this time.
"Ô Mémé-kins!" "Te comparerai‑je à un jour d'été?" "Tu es aussi sage que tu es beau!" "Ô beauté, jusqu'à présent je ne t'ai jamais connu!"
Cedrella's head bounced back and forth like a tennis ball at their infamous twin-speak, eyes wide. The others were astonished that the twins even knew how to speak French (and quite well too!), with Arthur and Percy utterly dumbstruck that they knew enough to quote Shakespeare!
"Une rose dorée qui sent tout aussi douce!" "Déesse, nymphe accomplie et divine!" "Et avec ces mots…" "Je passe mes bras autour de toi et te couvre de baisers!"
And with that joint statement, the twins jumped up and each pressed a noisy kiss on their grandmother's cheeks. They pulled away as the witch threw her head back and laughed uproariously, the sound warm and vibrant.
"Oh you two," Cedrella said affectionately, dotting kisses on their smiling cheeks. The twins high-fived each other, ignoring the remainder of their gawking family whilst pleased that their home-brewed French language potion had worked as well as intended.
"Ronald, mon mignon, look how well you're growing!"
The boy jerked from his gaping at the Twins, shyly smiling and enveloping his grandmother in a hug. "Thanks mémé, always good to see you." She smiled sweetly as she moved on to Ginny. The youngest of the brood dipped into a small curtsy that Cedrella returned.
"Mon trésor… Vous et moi sommes sur la même longueur d'ondes." Pale blue eyes gazed intently at oak brown orbs. Barely understanding the statement but being clever enough to ascertain that it related to her Sorting into Slytherin (as it usually did when Mémé was being coy), Ginny gave her grandmother a sly wink, incurring a look of warm approval as the others looked on curiously.
"Lunch has been prepared, with a surprise too! Allons-y!"
She beckoned them with her staff, knowing her family would follow behind her. Though they'd been to this abode several times through their collective childhoods, the Weasey children couldn't resist admiring the expansive and stately home as they made their way to the Dining Hall.
Despite appearing to be a quaint two-story cottage on the outside, the inside was rather sizable and decorated in a manner that could only be described as rustically affluent.
Built sometime in the mid 1000s by Oberon Lord Black as a countryside getaway, it featured vaulted ceilings framed by blackened oak beams dotted with Gothic-style chandeliers forged of bronze, emitting the warm glow of ensorcelled light. Thick hand-woven rugs in shades of cream and ermine dotted the floor, providing a lovely visual contrast to the ebony-paneled floors. Palladian windows allowed the light of the day to filter in brightly, the glass charmed to maximize the natural greenhouse effect. Several paintings lined the walls; a mix of Black forebears and beautiful impressionist landscapes and portraits hand-painted by the late Septimus Weasley, gifts of L'Artiste to his beloved wife. It was all complimented by a pleasant aroma permeating the entire space, a comforting scent of pine and eucalyptus.
The Black Cottage was the childhood home for Cedrella, her father, and his father before him. It'd been bequeathed to Cedrella after her father's passing, and it'd served as the part-time abode for the witch and her family. Despite the Weasley Seat being inactive, the magic of the House still necessitated that its Lord and Heir's primary residence was a Weasley dwelling. As such, weekdays were spent in the Burrow and weekends at the Black Cottage.
The group soon reached the dining hall, finding their surprise:
"EDIE-KINS!" exclaimed the Twins, rushing forward to envelope the laughing redhead. The rambunctious pair hoisted the witch up into the air whilst chanting her nickname, causing her to laugh that much harder whilst she ruffled their hair. She had the same copper red locks as her mother, her features a perfect blend of Septimus and Cedrella.
Save her pale gray eyes, reminiscent of her grandfather Phineas.
To the present adults aware of the Weasley family curse, they knew the witch's true origins.
Edith Cedrella Weasley was blood-adopted into House Weasley at the tender age of 14 months, an orphan who'd ended up Wool's Orphanage after her entire Millburn neighborhood went up in flames in Fiendfyre by a rogue wizard arsonist and Grindelwald sympathizer. She'd been the sole survivor, her parents and almost everyone else perishing in the inferno. The erstwhile Director of Muggles - on hand to provide oversight support - found the crying small babe in her crib under a mountain of still-burning debris, ensconced in a protective shield created by her accidental magic.
Recognizing the child's power, Number 8 personally saw to her rescue, taking her to St. Mungo's to be checked over to ensure that no physical and mental damage had been incurred. Save a depleted core and the terrifying memories of burning hot flames, no other injury had been suffered by the child. After Obliviating the toddler of her traumatic memories, Eight worked with her discreet contact in Wizarding Child Services, successfully placing the girl in Wool's Orphanage.
Purchased by Tom Riddle two years after his acquisition of the Gaunt Seat through his muggle holdings, the once-crumbling edifice had been transformed into a premiere childcare institution, recognized by the muggle British government as a top-notch foster home for unhoused children.
Its deteriorated Victorian-era structure was completely torn down and refashioned into an expansive three-story Georgian-style home with a cobblestone walkway and bronze gates, its backdrop framed by neat hedges and a massive backyard that could only be possible through magic. Inside was as spacious as it was welcoming, painted in warm shades of viridian, emerald, and forest greens, all offset by ivory. Massive double hung windows allowed for maximum sunlight, with an attic that featured a massive skylight. The building was abundant with bedrooms, four nurseries, two vast libraries, a swimming pool, and even a gymnasium for the children to play and let off some steam. A section of the rooms on the first floor served as classrooms, each tailored to the relevant age group's specific scholarly needs.
Wool's staff consisted of muggleborns and a handful of squibs, many beneficiaries of Tom's Liaison Program. They served as caretakers, teachers, nurses, and counselors that supported the children, especially attuned to handling the needs of the magical children to prevent any traumatic mishaps for them and their non-magical counterparts.
One such individual was muggleborn Emmeline Kidd (Gryffindor, Class of 1954), a Healer-in-training who bonded with little Edie. Though she adored the little girl and was amazed by her feats of accidental magic, Emmeline was not ready to be a mother, lamenting to her own mother Isabel about the situation. Isabel Kidd shared that tidbit with her friend Healer Miriam Strout, bridge partner of Cedrella. After one afternoon game with the Healer, Madame Weasley decided to adopt the baby girl.
The process went rather smoothly, Septimus readily agreeing as he oft did when it came to the wishes of his 'Rella-dear'. Arthur was their miracle baby, the witch suffering two painful miscarriages before and after his birth. The process of legal adoption went quite smoothly, as did the Blood-Adoption ritual of the near two-year old child into House Weasley. The magic of the ritual transformed the little blonde into a physical copy of a true daughter of the Weasley family, bequeathing her with her new parents' features.
Though she had wanted more children, Cedrella's true intentions with adopting Edith hadn't been completely altruistic. Aware of the Weasley Family Curse, the Slytherin alumnus thought that blood-adopting a child into the family would be a clever means to circumvent the malediction. She'd even used her considerable dowry to send her daughter to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, purchasing a small cottage in the Lower Mount Greylock community to establish the necessary residency requirements. Cedrella's hope ratcheted upon discovering her daughter's Selection for the House of Horned Serpents, thinking it an analogous Sorting to Slytherin and a sign that the curse had been or would soon be lifted.
Unfortunately, that would not be the case, the curse remaining well until Ginny's birth.
"Alright you lot," Edith laughingly squealed. "Time to let me down!"
"Edie!" exclaimed Bill, embracing her warmly once the Twins placed her back on solid ground. "Always good to see you!"
"Goes double for you Bill!" She clapped him on the shoulder.
"Good to see you Edie!" Charlie hugged the stuffing out of her, before the two exchanged their super-cool handshake. As the current Western Regional Director for the Body for Protection of Magical Species for MACUSA, aunt and nephew shared a special bond over their unabashed love for the care and study of creatures. It was his Auntie Edie who'd pushed him to pursue a Dragon Studies Mastery using Riddle's Program's resources, and not waste his potential in a humdrum job with the Beast Division of the Ministry.
She swept Percy in a tight hug that he returned, expressing pride in the career path of her "boy-genius". Ron received similar treatment, the two briefly commiserating about the Chudley Cannons as both fond of rooting for the underdog.
"There's my favorite niece!"
"Auntie, I'm your only niece!" Ginny laughingly replied, hugging the older witch before separating to give each other a series of fist bumps. It was something Edith picked up in the States and taught to a then four year-old Ginny, much to the little girl's delight.
She went on to greet her older brother and her sister-in-law, making pleasant small talk with them.
"Looks like the gang's all here! How's about we get started on this delicious meal Aulis prepared before Maman drops from low blood sugar?"
Cedrella rolled her eyes at her daughter's teasing, earning a cheeky wink in response. "Well, you heard the witch! Take your seats so we can eat!"
Outer Grounds - Potter Manor - Lancashire, 1:41PM
"Here you are young master, some additional nibbles to help you through your exercises."
Gia gently laid out the metal tray teeming with various fruit tarts featuring blackberry, peach, and pumpkin, kept warm and fresh by a Stasis Charm. A large pitcher of cold milk accompanied the mini-feast, also kept fresh under Stasis.
"Thanks Gia!" huffed Jim, working hard to not topple over whilst maintaining his Egg-at-Rest form. The elf looked curiously at his antics, before shaking her head with a smile as she disapparated with a soft pop.
Grunting, Heir Potter maintained the 1st Step Earth Path kata, hoping to Merlin that he didn't end up collapsing in on himself. While the Water and Air-based moves were wonderful for clearing his mind, improving his sleep, and calming the more volatile of his emotions, he found that the Earth moves to be grounding, providing a stabilizing anchor that helped his physical body feel steady. Due to his Fire imbalance, both Elder Yoo Ri and Padma refused to teach him any Fire Path katas until he'd mastered at least ten meditative exercises of Water and Air, not wanting to create any "unnecessary exacerbation".
Though Jim found it to be annoying, he was willing to begrudge their logic in this case. Once he mastered those forms, his two instructors promised to show him the offensive applications of the magimartial techniques.
Plus, his Parseltongue training was coming along quite well with Elder Yoo Ri and Steve's combined tutelage, with the latter assuring him that they would be advancing to offensive applications of the serpent's tongue. Jim was pleased with that prospect, knowing that he'd need every advantage to defeat the Dark Lord when their paths would inevitably cross.
Thoughts of his Fate-marked enemy led to thoughts of his treacherous godfather, enough to break his concentration and topple over. Grumbling, Jim reoriented his form into Like-The-Lotus-On-Still-Water, taking deep breaths to calm his suddenly racing thoughts.
Obediah's deceit still stung, and Jim felt so foolish not having realized the real truth behind the man he'd called uncle and confidant for the entirety of his life. He recalled his mother's lingering distaste for the Hufflepuff, but he'd chalked it up to her being…well… Slytherin about the whole thing.
"Please don't feel bad Jim, please. He deceived all of us, and quite well too."
Lord Potter had been particularly pained as he tried to comfort his distraught son after the events in the Shrieking Shack. For James, the sting was twice as bad because he'd discovered that one of his best friends had played a vital role in betraying his family to the Dark Lord and nearly getting them killed as a result was a deception he'd never forgive.
For the first time since Wormtail's disappearance, Prongs hoped to Circe that the deceitful rat bastard was already dead because if he got his hands on him, he would make the Marauder regret ever being born.
Sighing, Heir Potter slowly shifted his form into A-Frog-Before-Leaping, allowing his breathing to grow calmer as his thoughts drifted to more pleasant things. He and Ron would be spending the following two weeks in Shamballa, receiving some much-needed face-to-face time with Healer Baskar and Elder Yoo Ri-El. They would once-more be hosted by the Patils, and despite the splendor living in a lavish ancestral manse, Heir Potter was looking forward to being in the picturesque Udaipur-based estate.
Suddenly, thoughts of his best friend together with Padma entered Jim's mind, breaking his concentration and eliciting feelings of discontent he couldn't quite articulate.
At the Same Time…
"If ye think, for ane second, thon A'm gaun'ae let thon traitorous vermin intae this household fur anythin', A'll know ye've lost yer bloody mind!"
A meaty fist slammed down hard at that declaration, rattling the table's contents and causing most of the room's occupants to flinch. Properly chastened, Rory Prewett quickly looked away from his fuming brother Finlay, cheeks pinked in embarrassment.
Things were quite tense in the Grand Meeting Hall of Prewett's Landing, the Inverness-based residence of Prewetts who resided in Scotland. During the invasion of the Roman families that constituted the current Ancient and Noble Houses, Prewett's Landing served as a strategic military stronghold to provide a necessary tactical advantage as the conflict raged on between the preexisting clans and the foreign combatants. It served the same purpose with the arrival of William the Conqueror in 1066, and at the current time, was home for the Scottish-based Prewetts as well as a 'formal' setting for the family in times of crises.
Obediah's reveal as a Death Eater and his mad escape from the Ministry definitely constituted a matter of serious crisis for Clan Prewett.
"I agree with Rory's sentiments," said Connor, de-facto leader of the House. "Obediah has betrayed us in the worst way." There was a quiet fury in his tone and expression, hazel eyes shining with danger. "To join the league of that filthy Dark Lord that cost our family so much-"
He tensed and looked away from his position at the head of the table, needing a few seconds to compose himself. Matching murmurs of sympathy erupted from the table's occupants, all recalling the tragic loss of his twins Gideon and Fabian, so cruelly felled by Death Eaters during The Guildford Affair. While the identities of the participating Death Eaters weren't known to anyone save the Knights of Walpurgis, Connor didn't doubt for a second that his nephew could be involved in killing his own cousins.
'So help me Merlin if I find out that Obediah killed my sons…' Connor's fists curled on instinct, face reddening in a homicidal rage at the thought. The voice of his late wife Glenda sounded through his mind, allowing him a small reprieve of calm as the remainder of his family continued to stare in varying degrees of concern.
"Sinéad," Connor called out, bringing his niece to attention. "Is there any update at the Ministry?"
The witch shook her head in the negative. "Nothing at this time I'm afraid Uncle. The DRMC is still trying to figure out how the hell Obediah managed to unleash that bloody acromantula horde."
She winced in recollection of that night when she'd been nearly mauled to death by that demonic cluster. The unique nature of the beasts saw the issue escalate to the sole purview of the Creatures Division of the DoM, who'd transferred a handful of the Class XXXXX critters to the Maximum Security Observatory of the Baskerville Facility. It was all hands on deck with 045 and her team, and even with the support of 052, they were no closer to sorting the shite out. All they could confirm was that the spell used to alter them was some Dark variation of the Spider-Summoning Charm, making the creatures that much more vicious and impervious to destruction.
At this point, there was no known reversal for the magicks.
"Dae th' aurors hae ony idea whaur th' hell th' wee jobby is?" Cousin Oscar jerked to attention at the sound of Finlay's growling brogue.
"No Uncle, 'm afraid not. He's still on the 'Most Wanted Wizard' List, but there's been no new leads so far." He rubbed a tired hand over his face. "Director Shacklebolt's efforts are focused on rebuilding the Auror Corps and getting us back in tip-top shape. All hands on deck for the escapees, there's a reward if they're captured by a civilian."
"I won't need a reward if I find the little bastard." All turned at the sound of the thick Kerry accent, some more warily than others.
Despite the dulcet tones of the voice, the threat was no less severe coming from the elderly form of Fianna O'Flaherty (née Prewett), seated to the right of her nephew Connor. Though nearing 108 years in age, the petite woman was no less fearsome. A retired Senior Auror, the witch was a former mentee of 'Old Ironsides' Flint and previous mentor of Mad-Eye Moody, embodying 'warrior-woman' to the fullest. Upon her retirement, Fianna was a two-time recipient of the Maximilian Crowdy Medal of Valor and a holder of an Order of Merlin (Third Class) for 'Acts of Incontestable Bravery' during the Grindelwald Crisis.
Though her two daughters had chosen different paths, her granddaughters Noreen Deverill and Maura Fawcett would be following Fianna's footsteps, wrapping up their first year in the Auror Academy.
"Well m'eudail, ye'll hae tae git in line." The red of Finlay's face was starting to match his hair, causing his niece Doireann Batworthy (née Prewett) to lean warily from him.
"So what do we do in the meantime?" Rory asked after a few tense moments of silence.
"Expulsion." There was a note of finality in Connor's tone that made them all sit up straighter. "Not only has Obediah committed treason against this family, he's done the same against Wizarding Britain. We may not partake in that Wizengamot foolishness, but that doesn't mean we do not have our House's reputation to consider. We have never abided by traitors and we sure as hell are not going to start now. We'll do the ceremony by the next equinox. All in favor?"
A rousing chorus of "AYE!" filled the hall, accompanied by hands slamming the table rhythmically.
"A hope tae Circe A dinnae cross paths wi' him before he's caught." Though his face was no longer red in anger, Finlay's fury was readily obvious in his tone. "Or sae hulp me, expulsion or nae, A'll gut him like a carp! HEALER OATHS BE DAMNED!"
2:22PM
"May I sit?"
Ginny perked up, quickly clearing a place for her grandmother.
Smiling, Cedrella elegantly lowered herself onto the blanket, leaning back alongside her granddaughter as they observed her brothers air-riding the herd of Aethoneans kept on the property. Edith led the pack, laughing uproariously at the Twins whilst they twisted and alley-ooped around her and Bill. Percy and Ron, surprisingly enough, were quietly chatting amongst themselves on a blanket on the opposite side of the substantial lawn. Arthur and Molly were content to sit underneath the large gazebo on the northside of the field, fondly observing all their children whilst they cuddled together under a blanket.
"How's school?" Cedrella asked coyly.
"Quite well," Ginny replied. The younger witch launched into a breakdown of her recent year, including her classes, friends, Quidditch matches, and other such relevant topics. If her grandmother noticed Draco Malfoy's name pop up quite frequently, she didn't comment.
Whilst speaking, Ginny took care to evaluate her grandmother's reaction and body language. As part of Harry's Administration, the youngest Weasley had carte blanche to learn more about her forebears who'd served on the Administrations of past Princes, directly from the Hydra's many mouths.
"Arrius was a political animal, no other way to describe it." Jormungand's smooth tenor echoed in Ginny's mind. "His spy network was vast and embedded across every strata of wizarding society, 'The Master of Whispers', as his allies and foes called him. He knew the Wizengamot Charter like the back of his hand, along with the unique charter of each respective House."
"That," continued Mara, "And keeping himself in the know of nearly every sordid secret of his peers, and possessed the cunning to know when and how to use it to his advantage. Arrius could forge alliances between fellow and nemesis alike, and Merlin help you if you fell in the latter category." The ashwinder had snickered sinisterly, her expression fond.
Ginny recalled the image of the rather benign-looking man in the photo album she'd found in the Lair's library, confirming the age-old adage to never judge a book by its cover.
"Quintus - that little Romeo!" supplied Delilah's coquettish rasp. "Could sweet talk a serpent out of her scales, everyone liked him! Not just in Slytherin either; he was well regarded across all the other Houses, a favorite of Headmaster Adamantios Shacklebolt who liked few and respected less. He's still one of the best Head Boys in the Castle's history. He established Le Bal Masqué Magique in L'Domaine Weasley, that is, the Weasley ancestral home. Truly a grand fête to rival all others and the most sought-after social ticket of the year. Rumor has it that the lavishness of this soirée inspired the Sun King's own extravaganzas within Versailles."
"Indeed," supplied an imperious Alecto as her sisters nodded along. "Quintus understood the necessity of respecting and embracing wizarding cultures, and was well-versed with the ubiquitous expectations of both European and non-European wizarding norms. He took pride in his magical heritage and respected it for the gift that it was, understanding that propriety, necessity of precedence, and respect for rightful authority were keystones to this tradition. Fitting that Emeritus Ismelda chose him as her replacement as the Chief British Delegate to the ICW once she ascended to Supreme Mugwump."
Nidhogg's impossibly deep growl filled Ginny's thoughts. "The Great Clelia Weasley, a warrior for the ages. She suffered no fools and was relentless in smiting any idiot who made the asinine mistake of crossing her. Neutering one's rival wasn't in her vocabulary, especially if one demonstrated themselves to be a worthwhile opponent. Fitting that she became battle mage for King James II and William III in her stead as Commander Weasley in the Knights of Albion. She was, as I've been told, 'awe-inspiringly terrifying' on the battlefield, Valdis Gaunt reincarnated." The Exemplar of Ruthlessness had chortled ominously at that statement, causing the hairs on Ginny's neck to rise.
"And it wasn't just brute strength applied indiscriminately," spoke Ka, his posh lilt gentle and soft. "Clelia was an exceptional battle strategist, fitting considering her reign as Grand Wizard Chess Champion of the Knightley Tournaments. Power meant nothing without the wherewithal to apply it intelligently."
The last was Amadeus, Charlie's uncanny doppelgänger who'd been quite close to claiming the Throne for himself.
"Claimant Weasley had all the makings of a Prince; the intelligence, cunning, cleverness, ruthlessness, regard for wizarding tradition, and the charm on par with his ancestor Quintus." Rajah had looked oddly pensive. "Unfortunately, he was unable to articulate a true Vision to mark his Ascendancy. He had an ephemeral plan in play; total unification of Wizarding Britain, strength and power in numbers, so to speak. However, he couldn't articulate exactly how he would intend to accomplish that goal. Bilqis Kolumbiko, on the other hand, was able to establish her Vision, which you see in play through the Ministry of Magic. Granted, she's not publicly credited for it as one would expect for a Prince. However, she did lay the political groundwork with her Wizengamot allies - four of whom were members of her Administration - to establish the Ministry. Amadeus - an Arithmancy genius - singlehandedly pioneered the Department of Accounting Affairs. A respectable legacy."
The discussion had inevitably drifted to her paternal grandmother. To her surprise, Rajah looked visibly…disappointed.
"Claimant Cedrella had much potential, so much like her ancestress Emeritus Phoebe Black. However, unlike Phoebe and a lot like Amadeus, she too lacked the Vision needed to claim the mantle of Prince. Despite her brilliance and embodiment of all other qualities we seek, Cedrella was not able to conceptualize a goal where her reputation didn't take precedence. Her ambition was entirely too centered on self and the propagation of her own ego. As you know Ginny, one of the tenets of being Prince is sacrificing one's own glory and prestige to steer the House and the entire wizarding world towards true greater good. Cedrella had two years to get over that hurdle, but unfortunately, she was unable to. A true pity…"
Despite her surprise at learning of her mémé's true history within her alma mater, Ginny wasn't really surprised by Rajah's assessment. Despite the warm indulgence of her grandchildren, Madame Weasley was a shamelessly proud noblewoman with exacting standards.
It's what made her marriage to Septimus so successful. He'd worshiped the ground she walked on since their Hogwarts days, and despite the Weasleys lacking the wealth and prestige one would typically require to be allowed the privilege of marrying a prized daughter of House Black, the witch convinced both her father and her uncle (Sirius II Lord Black) to accept Septimus' proposal.
Howard Montague, Dominic Ogden, Liam Flint, and Winston Goyle had been quite angry at having their proposals rebuffed, though none dared to incite the wrath of Lord Black as recompense.
"Well," Cedrella said after a few moments of comfortable silence. "It goes without saying that I am immensely proud of your Sorting. Slytherin House is…special, despite the reputation it's had to endure. Appearance isn't everything, and I'm sure, given enough time, you'll discover that there's more to the serpents' nest. That which is unique to our House and our House alone, a source of true power."
Ginny stared unblinkingly into the older witch's calculating gaze. "That's very true Mémé. Nine heads-worth I'd imagine." It was subtle, but her grandmother's expression shifted as her eyes subtly widened. In a flash, she unholstered her wand from her walking staff (reminding Ginny of Lucius Malfoy), before non-verbally casting a rapid slew of privacy charms, one of which included an arcane lip-distortion spell.
From their vantage, Bill and Arthur stared curiously.
"...Nine heads, you say?"
Her granddaughter smiled. "Yes. One to see the Vision ahead…another to forge the alliances needed to see said Vision come to pass… one for cunning and another for guile… another to be ruthless enough to to combat an enemy… one with the brains… and another to understand the traditions that helped forge the path before… Though I've heard 'three's time the charm' for that last bit."
In any other context, Ginny would have laughed at the look of incredulousness on the unflappable witch's face. It was her turn to be shocked when her grandmother wrapped her in a tight embrace, belying a strength Ginny didn't think she possessed.
"I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! Oh ho mon trésor!" She hugged her again, causing Ginny to laugh brightly. "Should I be calling you 'your majesty'? Hm?"
"Well," Ginny shifted, Cedrella losing some of her steam at that action. "I don't hold the mantle yet, there's another who sits at the helm. But, I am one of his trusted advisors, and in time, it will be my turn to steer our House in the right direction."
She said it with determination, enough to reignite the fire in Cedrella's pale blue orbs.
"Oh mon trésor…" she wrapped an arm around her granddaughter, tucking her protectively into her side. "The things you'll do and the people you'll rule…"
5:19PM
"Any new letters come in Hoskins?"
The dutiful valet replied in the negative, sighing at the look of disappointment on the young Master's face. It'd been the same routine for the past three weeks; Heir Longbottom would spend all day in the greenhouses working with the elderly Lumpen, splitting his time between tending to the numerous plants and watching the owlery like a hawk. Around evening time, he'd venture back into the manor and call for Hoskins, wanting to know if he'd received any new mail.
None of his friends had responded to the correspondences he'd sent, with Hoskins unable to repress his slight anger at them ignoring his young Master. That was soon tempered by his recollection of Neville's admittedly appalling behavior under the thrall of the Ultimate Sanction's effects, lips flattening.
Not for the first time Lar Hoskins mentally cursed Tiberius Nott's name in his True Tongue, as it was through the tyrant's despicable act of cursing his own son that set in motion the current state of events.
Then, Hoskins remembered Lord Malfoy's revenge against the swine, humiliating and neutering Tiberius in equal measure.
'Lar Dobby must be so proud.'
Snickering, the elf set about completing the remainder of his evening chores.
6:42PM
"I know I don't say it enough, but I'm so proud of you mon bonheur."
A soft blush bloomed across Marcus Flint's cheeks as he affectionately squeezed his mother's hand. The two were seated in the dining area of Marcus' personal flat, located in a surprisingly comfortable part of Hogsmeade.
Alisandre Flint (née Perrot) was pleased to have some quality time with her only son, surprised that her brutish and usually drunk husband had kept to his word to allow his wife this opportunity. Years trapped in an abusive marriage with no means of escape had taught the witch expect the absolute least when it came to her husband.
But then, she recalled the epic fisticuffs between father and son wherein the latter succeeded in seriously injuring and overpowering the former, enough to put the fear of Merlin into Aries to ensure his compliance. That had almost been a year ago, and Alisandre was pleased to see Marcus flourish in the manner she knew he was capable of.
Far from his father's toxic influence.
Aries Flint was a bitter shell of a man, an amalgamation of unfulfilled dreams and unchecked ego who desperately sought to regain his "rightful eminence" within wizarding society. It was this particular ambition that'd driven him to the Dark Lord's service, taking on the madman's brand in exchange of lofty promises of gold and a reinstated House Flint.
Despite being a scion of a Noble House, Aries received very little of the monetary benefits, a consequence of his forebears Logan and Arlin's recklessness and fondness for drinking and gambling. By the time the mantle passed to Caractacus, the lack of funds to maintain the Wizengamot fees triggered the 'Temporary Abeyance' clause in the House's Charter, forcing the seat into dormancy. Created by then-Lord Durand Flint, it was a 'failsafe' to prevent his House from falling prey to an exploitative vassalship to an unwanted liege should the Flint family find itself in a financial bind.
It worked just as intended.
"So," Alisandre said, swallowing down a bite of Madam Rosmerta's shepherd's pie. "How are things at the Academy?"
Marcus took a small swig of butterbeer. "Very busy, but going well all things considered. Director Shacklebolt's primary objective is to get the Aurors back in tip-top shape given the…casualties that were suffered in the Ministry." He couldn't repress his reflexive wince. A wave of fear went through his mother in recollection, horrified at the prospect of a reemergence of the Dark Lord's most faithful.
Not for the first time, Alisandre was grateful that Marcus was no longer under his father's thumb.
"Anywho," continued Marcus. "Training is rigorous, but pretty satisfying. Thanks to Professor Scrimgeour's influence, Shacklebolt created the Patronus Workshop Division and put me and Oscar Prewett in charge of training the newest recruits. That, and I'm helping Jason Dodderidge with Flight Training School. Lord Malfoy recently donated new Nimbus 2000s for our use, so we have to get everyone acclimated."
"Those are quite the leadership opportunities… He really believes in you, doesn't he?"
Her son nodded, his countenance proud. "He does. Granted, it's all thanks to great-granddad's influence, but still. It's nice to have someone believe in me and show that through his actions."
Alisandre smiled warmly. "And how's the rest of the training?"
"Good. Intense, but good. Mad-Eye's bloody brutal, more than usual according to the others anyway. I'll probably be immune to Pepper-Up and Healing Potions by the time I graduate."
Mother and son shared a laugh.
"Seriously," Marcus continued. "Mad-Eye's drills are insane; one has us running through rocky terrain blindfolded while-"
Suddenly, a large and glowering buffalo Patronus cantered in, stopping directly in front of the gaping pair and speaking in Mad-Eye's infamous growl:
"This is Auror Moody, passcode Albion-Lysander-Aspen-Sorrel-Tungsten-Ochre-Radulf. Change of plans; we are running Part 1 of Phase 2 of the Night Drills this evening. Get ready in an hour." The buffalo faded away, with Marcus leveling an apologetic look at his mother.
"Fret not darling, we have time to finish this meal! We'll catch up later, yes? You can tell me all about your darling Emmy!"
He looked visibly relieved though he lightly pinked at the mention of his girlfriend.
"Thanks Ma!"
AN 1: The role of Cedrella Black-Weasley is played by Cate Blanchett in her role as Phyllis Schlafly (Mrs. America), and, in her younger adult days as Lady Tremaine (Cinderella). The role of Edith is played by Kennedy McMann (Nancy Drew). Edie will be featured quite a bit in Book 5: Requiem For a Reprisal (RFaR).
AN 2: Obediah will be expelled from House Prewett, no ifs-ands-or-buts about that. Though, I doubt our little Death Eater friend will care.
AN 3: Translations:
"C'est si bon de te revoir, Maman." "It's good to see you again, mom."
"Tu as l'air aussi belle que jamais, mémé" "You look as beautiful as ever, grandma."
"Ô Mémé-kins!" "Te comparerai‑je à un jour d'été?" "Tu es aussi sage que tu es beau!" "Ô beauté, jusqu'à présent je ne t'ai jamais connu!" "Oh Granny-kins!" "Shall I compare you to a summer's day?" "You are as wise as you are beautiful!" "Oh beauty, until now I have never known you!"
"Une rose dorée qui sent tout aussi douce!" "Déesse, nymphe accomplie et divine!" "Et avec ces mots…" "Je passe mes bras autour de toi et te couvre de baisers!"" "A golden rose that smells just as sweet!" "Goddess, accomplished and divine nymph!" "And with these words..." "I put my arms around you and cover you with kisses!"
"Mon trésor… Vous et moi sommes sur la même longueur d'ondes." "My darling… You and I are on the same wavelength."