Ever since Aunt Cassiopeia had left and Dorea became Lady of the House, she'd been given routine updates, both on internal matters and their place in the wider politics of the country. She was technically old enough now to manage the House on her own — no matter how absurd it was to expect a thirteen-year-old to manage something so complex — but practically, she wasn't really expected to do much. It was typical for people who found themselves the head of their family young to pass off responsibilities to proxies and secretaries, and not begin to directly involve themselves until later in life — at least until they'd finished schooling, but often delaying until their children reached academy age themselves. But it was still appropriate for her to be informed of what was being done in her name, at the very least so she didn't complicate things by publicly saying something that contradicted the family's official position, so she was kept informed.
These meetings were normally with Uncle Ted, sometimes at his office in London, sometimes at the Tonkses' rural home, or, when she was at Hogwarts, sometimes a private room in the Three Broomsticks. It was common for Aunt Andi to speak for the family in the Wizengamot when something major was going on, or to handle some of the more delicate talks with noble types — having grown up in the House of Black, the etiquette and affectations of their class came more naturally to her — but while Andi had gone into healing Ted had gone into law, so he was just as equipped to deal with all the paperwork and such that came with the daily business of politics. Not to mention, less likely to be drawn away by an emergency — Andi was one of Saint Mungo's best cursebreakers, they sometimes called her in without warning. Through his other legal work, Ted also happened to have plenty of professional contacts who could be hired on to manage one item or another, especially when it came to financial matters, which he was somewhat less thoroughly qualified for. There was a whole staff managing the House, only some of whom Dorea had even met, all of that going through Ted.
They did ask for Dorea's input on things, occasionally, but for the most part she didn't have much to contribute. Even with her education under Aunt Cassiopeia, and continuing under the Tonkses, Ted and Andi were still far more suited to dealing with this sort of thing — Dorea did try to keep up, but she simply didn't know enough, and much of the year was too busy with schoolwork to do the reading necessary to catch up. Their politics, their vote on the Wizengamot and all, were basically set by Andi and Ted, in that order, their dealings with vassals and the like and other economic matters managed by Ted and Andi, in that order. Which was more than fine, Dorea thought — they understood these things far better than she did, and they were good people, she trusted them to know what they were doing.
Things had been complicated somewhat by Sirius being back — Andi herself was already considered a class traitor, but he was rather more, er, radical. Apparently they still got some funny questions about something Sirius had done or said lately, but those were normally brushed off by saying Sirius didn't represent the Family, something that he himself would tell people if asked.
The feeling Dorea got was that Sirius was disappointed with Andi growing up to be respectable, but honestly he was being ridiculous. Sirius's way would result in basically starting blood feuds with the entire nobility. The Blacks might have been able to get away with doing that sort of thing before, centuries ago, but they simply couldn't anymore — they were too few. Sirius might not give a damn what the rest of the country thought about him, but Dorea had no choice in the matter, if she wanted to continue living here.
(Honestly, she was a little worried about would happen to Liz once she was old enough she couldn't hide behind proxies anymore, but she guessed that wasn't her business.)
Normally, these meetings would be with Ted or Andi, depending on what the most pressing topic at hand was — their different experiences gave them somewhat different areas of expertise, so one or the other might be better suited to answer whatever questions she might have. But she wasn't entirely surprised, when she flooed over to the Tonkses' on the first Tuesday of summer break, to find both of them here waiting for her. A big event could have implications for all manner of different things, and could swiftly get very complicated, so having both of them around to provide their own perspective could be better at getting things to make sense.
The return of the Dark Lord was, obviously, one such momentous occasion. She hadn't expected anything different.
She stepped out of the floo into the Tonkses' sitting room — very red, the upholstery on the furniture and the rugs and the curtains, paintings on the walls colourful with autumn foliage. (Andi and Ted both had some sentimental feelings about autumn colours, though Dorea didn't know why.) It was only a couple seconds before Andi's voice was calling her toward the kitchen, which was very modern-looking for a magical home — this house was new, converted from a muggle base recently enough that Dora remembered moving in — with granite counters and white-faced cabinets, a dining table ringed with a few chairs, unornamented wood, windows overlooking the garden just outside. It looked the same as always, but there were an unusual volume of papers around, sitting in stacks at the table or on the counters, letters packed back into opened envelopes.
Andi was sitting at the table, looking through some papers, Ted at the hob, tending to something in a frying pan there — there was a smell of herbs and baking bread on the air, he must have had enough free time to make lunch for the meeting. "You're right about on time, Dorea," he said, quick glancing at her over his shoulder. "Go ahead and sit down, I should have this ready in a couple minutes."
Dorea hadn't expected she'd be being fed, but she hadn't had lunch yet either — she'd figured the biscuits or whatever they'd have with tea would be enough to last her until she could get a late lunch at home — so she wasn't exactly complaining. "Oh, thank you, Uncle Ted. It smells great in here." She slid down into a seat, nodded across the table. "Hello, Aunt Andi."
"Dorea. Enjoying your holiday thus far?"
It hadn't even been a week yet, but "Sure. I don't get to see the boys much, since I started at Hogwarts, it's nice." Though they always seemed halfway strangers for the first couple weeks every time, grew up so damn fast. "Did you know Sirius is seeing Xeno Lovegood?"
Andi gave her a subtle little curl of a smile. "Yes, that's been going on for some months now."
"I just found out. I flooed over to Sirius's flat on Sunday, and ran into Xeno."
"Were they decent at the time?"
"Well, er, Xeno didn't have a shirt on, but Sirius wasn't even there..."
"You got off easy," Ted drawled from over by the hob. He'd gotten a pan out of the oven by now, was distributing something out onto plates, the tea kettle beginning to whistle. "One time I came by with some papers I needed Sirius to look at, to find Xeno standing in the kitchen, Sirius on his knees with Xeno's—"
Feeling the warmth already starting on her face, Dorea said, "I get the picture, thanks, Ted."
"I wouldn't think he could manage that," Andi mused, her voice smooth and casual. "Last time I checked, his physical condition still hadn't entirely recovered from Azkaban. That kitchen is tiled — if he can comfortably kneel for that long, he must be in better shape than I realised."
"Or there was a cushioning charm involved."
"Or that. I suppose it would depend how impulsive—"
"Stop, please, I don't need to hear this."
Andi sent her a smirk, but she mercifully dropped the subject.
It turned out Ted had made filled pastries of some kind, folded over like a pasty — she only hesitated to use the word because the chicken and bacon and herby cheese sauce inside didn't feel very pasty-like to her. There were also some fried vegetables, carrots and snap peas and asparagus, which had apparently been cooked in the drippings from the bacon, some of the remaining aromatic grease dribbled over the pastries. Surprisingly good, honestly, but Ted's cooking was like that. Andi was completely hopeless in the kitchen, thanks to having relied on house-elves growing up, and she'd heard he hadn't been excellent at it when they'd first started living together, but by the time Dorea was old enough to remember he'd gotten enough practice that his cooking was always great.
Once Ted had the plates down, enough time passing to get their first couple bites — Dorea was still breaking her pastry into pieces with a fork, to mix in the vegetables and make sure all of the bread got some sauce — Andi started, "So. Straight to business?"
"All right. Though, I guess it's too early to say much about how people are dealing with the Dark Lord being back."
There was a brief pause, Ted glancing at Andi, one of her eyebrows arching up. Apparently that wasn't what they'd meant to talk about today. "There is some news, though admittedly not much. The process is in motion to secure the funding necessary for the D.L.E. to recruit additional Hit Wizards and Aurors — they've decided to use fears of the possibility of the Gaels breaking away by force to excuse the effort."
Oh, that was...complicated. There was a possibility that that might happen — Saoirse Ghaelach hadn't put together a militia for no reason, after all — but recruiting more wands for the Ministry with the explicit justification that it was to stop the Gaels from seceding was an escalation. If Saoirse actually believed that's what the recruits were for, they might think they were in danger, that the Ministry might attack them before they could even try to secede, so then they might recruit more battlemages to protect themselves, or even make a move for independence before the Ministry's could be trained... "That seems risky. Is someone, um... Well, I guess telling Saoirse the real reason might be difficult, since the Ministry wants to keep it quiet."
Ted let out a little huff. "I wouldn't worry about that."
Before she could ask what he meant, Andi said, "On Saturday evening, there was a closed meeting of their guiding council. Most of their meetings are open to the public — the doors are closed only rarely, while discussing particularly sensitive matters."
"You think this one was about the Dark Lord's return. How would they have even found out?" The Death Eaters tended to be British nationalists, so she couldn't imagine the Gaels had people close enough to have heard about it already.
"The same way we did — Severus is involved with Síomha Ní Ailbhe." Oh. Right, that should have been obvious, forgot. "I believe we can expect more closed meetings going forward. If nothing else, the Dark Lord's return will create a moment of social and political instability which might be exploited to one's advantage, if approached with the correct strategy. Should one have a reason for attempting such a thing."
"Like, say, if you're a nationalist movement trying to split off to form your own country."
Chewing on a bite of pastry, Andi didn't answer aloud, simply giving Dorea a flat look and a quirked eyebrow. She didn't need to answer, though, Dorea knew she was right.
"Well, that's going to be a bloody mess. With the Death Eaters fighting the Ministry on one side, and the Gaels declaring independence on the other..." Honestly, they were lucky the Gaels had been so quiet last time. She knew why — the nationalists had been faced with a huge setback when the Ministry successfully put down the Communalists in this country, Saoirse had only started becoming as big of a problem as it was now in the late 80s — but the Dark Lord coming back and the nationalist question coming to a head at the same time was...probably too much for the Ministry to handle. They'd barely held on with just the Death Eaters to worry about...
"If Mockridge is smart," Ted said, "he'll meet with the guidance council and come to an agreement to give the Gaels an autonomous province, present it to the Wizengamot fait accompli."
"...And how likely do you think that is to happen?" Mockridge's politics were pretty decent, so maybe he wouldn't actually object to something like that, but just going out and doing it was kind of a lot to expect. Not to mention, Dorea doubted the Wizengamot would play along.
He shook his head. "I wouldn't count on it. I'm only saying, it's the best move we have. If we're smart about it, we could even negotiate to have Saoirse's battlemages help put down the Death Eaters as part of the deal — instead of having two forces to fight, we could turn one against the other, effectively killing two birds with one stone. But the government is too firmly against any kind of recognition for the Gaels as a people separate from Britain, it's simply never going to happen."
"Their reticence is not without cause," Andi said, with a mild sort of tone, though Dorea wasn't sure what she was saying-without-saying. Maybe she and Ted had just had this conversation before, some disagreement going on that Dorea didn't know enough about to pick up the details. "Granting the Gaels any sort of autonomy will only destabilise Britain as a whole. Soon we would have similar noises from the Francophones of Brittany — an opportunity the French government would leap to exploit, to weaken what they perceive to be a threat on their northern border — and there may be demands for similar official autonomy from all manner of communes and sanctuaries. While it may perhaps grant an advantage in the short term, in the long term it will reveal itself as suicide."
"I suspect most mages don't realise how fragile the country already is — it's not Eighteen Fifteen anymore. Between Saoirse Ghaelach and Teulu Prydein, and the Communalists and the radical agrarian movement out of Anglesey..." Ted shrugged. "Honestly, I'd be surprised if the country doesn't fly apart as soon as the Ministry shows signs of weakness."
"And that is precisely why the Wizengamot cannot recognise the Gaels as a people apart from Britain — in doing so, they would display that weakness for all to see." Chewing a bite of his pastry, Ted only shrugged again, Andi eyeing him for a moment before turning back to her own lunch. Definitely repeating a previous argument, though Dorea couldn't really tell who'd won. It seemed to her that the positions they were taking were so close to each other that it wasn't really worth arguing about, but it was very possible she was missing something.
None of that was really news, Dorea had been told going all the way back to her lessons with Aunt Cassiopeia that magical Britain had been in something of a precarious balance for a while. The reorganisation of the economy into something halfway functional in the immediate aftermath of going into Secrecy had ended up giving the Noble Houses (and a selection of guilds) almost absolute dictatorial control over the country — they'd then solidified that control with... She didn't want to call it propaganda, but that's not too far off either. Every magical country had gone through a sort of cultural renaissance a couple generations into Secrecy, either 'rediscovering' ancient magical traditions that had been lost during Christianisation or else inventing them out of thin air. Britain's had involved a heavy degree of Celticisation, in an attempt to 'reclaim' the heritage they'd lost due to the dominance of the English, which also came with a lot of the myth-making around Merlin and emphasising the importance of the Wizengamot.
The programme had been shockingly successful — the mages of Britain had been majority English-speaking at the beginning of the 18th Century, but by the beginning of the 19th Cambrian-speakers had become a plurality, English even dropping to the third most-spoken language in the country under Gaelic. Most of the island of Great Britain had even been de-Christianised, with some holdouts. The Gaels were still heavily Christian — Catholic, specifically — but even their religion had been becoming increasingly syncretic, mixing in old pre-Christian gods that'd nearly been forgotten, kept in a handful of magically-protected sanctuaries here and there. That diversity was tolerated, though, because it fit with the story of the Wizengamot, the Celtic peoples of the Isles coming together and so forth. The Norse-speakers in the north didn't really fit the narrative, but their population was quite small and their frigid, miserable little islands didn't have anything of value anyone wanted, so it was easy enough to just leave them to their own devices up there. There was a time, in the 19th Century, when the whole thing seemed to work, the Wizengamot ruling the country more or less competently — besides the occasional issue with the goblins, a Dark Lord popping up now and then, the new society they'd built practically from the ground up had been reasonably stable.
Aunt Cassiopeia had put the original fault on the guild system. It'd made sense at the time, just to get basic industry going again, but the guilds created a fundamental weakness in the Noble Houses' power, just by existing. The only reason the Noble Houses had been able to so thoroughly dominate society as they had was due to magical ability — they'd been the only ones who had access to wands, and the education needed to use them properly. But the guilds were a way that commoners could get those things without having to go through the aristocracy. It hadn't happened overnight, but just by their day-to-day operation the guilds had slowly built a middle class of educated, competent commoners, gradually growing in number generation to generation. In 1815, the year Ted had picked as an example of when Britain had been stable, that might not have seemed like a problem yet, everything still working smoothly — and more to the point, Dorea guessed, to the nobles' benefit — but things started getting a lot more shaky by the turn of the 20th Century.
And then the Communalists became a problem. Dorea understood why the Wizengamot had made concessions to the guilds — they'd been trying to give people more incentives to work within the system as it already existed, so trying to go for an outright revolution seemed less attractive. But by giving the guilds even more power — even directly integrating them into parts of the Ministry, so they had governing authority now — they'd just made their own situation worse.
By this point, the balance of power had sharply shifted away from the nobility. They still made the laws, and owned most of the property — but if it came down to a fight, they simply didn't have the wands to dominate the commons. That was what Ted meant, when he'd said it wasn't 1815 anymore.
From the reforms that were being made and some of the things Dorea had heard some other Lords and Ladies say, it felt to her like the end goal of the more reasonable portion of the Wizengamot was to...well, do what Aquitania had done over a century ago now, she guessed. That country had once been ruled by an aristocracy, in a system not that much different from Britain's, but they'd seen which direction the tide was turning — before it could come to violence, the government had reformed itself into a democracy, the aristocracy sacrificing their privilege to survive. They'd even gotten a pretty good deal out of it, managing to hold on to the lion's share of their wealth. The richest and most politically-powerful people in Aquitania were still mostly members of old noble families...though less so, slowly, decade by decade. More importantly, Dorea felt, they'd gotten to keep their lives — the nobility in countries hit by Communalist Revolutions a century later learned that the hard way.
Dorea did think that making Aquitania-style reforms was the right way to go...but, honestly, she wasn't optimistic. For one thing, a project like that was not popular in the Wizengamot. Common Fate was on board, that's basically what their political programme was, but Ars Brittania definitely wasn't — if anything, they seemed determined to try to claw back power they'd already given up generations ago — and Ars Publica was...mixed. Some of them would go along, maybe, but too many of them obviously wanted to pull away from the Wizengamot entirely, whether that meant making an independent Gaelic country instead or retreating into their own little communes and giving up on the idea of having a country at all. (The second kind where who Ted had called "radical agrarian" people a moment ago, a religious movement inspired by the Mistwalkers that, honestly, the same cultural revival that'd basically invented magical Britain was probably responsible for spreading in the first place.) They could get the votes for things, like, making a public education system, but for reforming away the aristocracy itself? No chance. Maybe eventually, maybe, but getting there would take time.
If Andi and Ted were correct, and she didn't have any reason to doubt it, they simply didn't have time. Maybe if things were different, maybe if the Dark Lord hadn't come back...or maybe if he'd never risen in the first place — she'd heard multiple people argue that the Ministry being distracted with the Death Eaters had allowed the Gaelic nationalists to pick up steam again. They had been moving in the right direction before, if slowly, but the Dark Lord was coming back at the worst possible time.
Dorea was seriously scared of what was going to happen in the next few years, when she sat down and let herself think about it. And the worst part was, she was a bloody Lady of the Wizengamot, one of the few people in this country who supposedly had real power in this country, and there was nothing she could do. Not really.
She didn't like thinking about it, but in her meetings with Uncle Ted or/and Aunt Andi it was pretty much impossible to avoid.
But there was one part of that she hadn't quite understood. "What does Teulu Prydein have to do with it? I mean, they are nationalists, I guess, but Cambrian nationalism doesn't really break anything the same way the Gaels do. Right?" Last she'd checked, they were even pretty sure that some people on the Wizengamot were supporting Teulu Prydein. But then, she guessed there were Wizengamot members supporting Saoirse Ghaelach too...
Ted shook his head. "Teulu Prydein is more disruptive than the Gaels."
"What? But that..."
"What he means to say, Dorea," Andi said, "is that while Cambrian nationalism does not undermine Britain as a concept in the same fashion, the politics of Teulu Prydein will cause disruption that will destabilise Britain regardless."
"...You mean because they'll pick fights with Gaels, and push them toward wanting their own country even faster?"
With a little one-shouldered shrug, Ted agreed, "That is part of it. Not that the Gaels need much incentive at this point. But Teulu Prydein is a light populist movement — while they might be loyal to the nation of Britain, they are hostile to the Wizengamot."
"But I thought they were connected to Ars Brittania, the same way Saoirse is connected to Ars Publica. Well, some of Ars Publica, I mean, like the Inghams and the Scrimgeours and the Slughorns." And Ars Brittania were basically the Tories of the Wizengamot, in a way — they were the people who were trying to hold on to the privileges of the nobility, sponsoring a democratic movement wouldn't make any sense.
"It's not the same. Saoirse isn't the populist strain of Gaelic nationalism — that was the Communalists, and the Ministry crushed them over fifty years ago now. They still exist, but they're a minority these days. Saoirse is a conservative religious movement, coming out of the big Gaelic priesthoods and sponsored by various wealthy Gaelic families. While they do ultimately intend to secede from Britain, the rest of their politics aren't any more radical than the average member of Common Fate. I don't expect an independent Gaelic country to change the basic functioning of society much. They'll probably end aristocratic rule in favour of a more democratic government — they have so few noble families anyway — but they'll keep the guild economy we have here, and maybe even the House system. Unless the leadership are too preoccupied fighting the Ministry and let the Communalists gain ground, I suppose, that is possible. Revolutions are messy, it'd hard to predict which way they'll go for certain.
"On the other hand, Teulu Prydein are generally hostile to the Wizengamot and the aristocracy, yes, but also the guilds and even the House system itself, the very fundamentals of how British society operates. It's in the name, the House of Britain — one of their core beliefs is that Britain is one family, and should be treated as one. They're not all egalitarian, as such — some are, but others argue that as a family is led by their elders or heads of household, so it only makes sense that the country should have leadership above the common citizen — but they do believe that the resources and labour of the country belong to all British peoples, and should be used to benefit them all in common. In Teulu Prydein strongholds, the divisions between Houses are melted away, the way of life of the people there very much in violation of standing property laws."
...That sounded a lot like Communalism, honestly, or how things worked in agrarian communes like the Greenwood. "So why is Llewellyn protecting them, then?"
"Because Llewellyn is a fool," Andi said — light and casual, as though stating a simple fact.
Ted actually answered the question. "Llewellyn thinks he can use them as a weapon against the Gaels, and everyone else in the country he doesn't like. Nymphs and veela, foreigners in general, Christians, I'm sure he means to get around to the northern islanders eventually. They're just poor, uneducated commoners, after all, he thinks he can control them — point them in the direction he wants, and then either satisfy them with scraps or eliminate them once he's through with them."
That sounded like playing with fire to Dorea. Such hateful nationalist movements could quickly turn very very bad, as the last century of European history on the muggle side had shown. As big of a problem as Saoirse was becoming, at least they tolerated Cambrian and Norse and nonhuman allies, there were even muggleborns in the movement. Llewellyn didn't give a damn about any of the people Teulu Prydein hated anyway, but it seemed like such a terrible risk to her. "Can he control them?"
"Not a chance."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. The results of the strategy depend too heavily on the shape of events to come to predict with any certainty." The words made it seem like Andi disagreed with Ted's flat denial, but there was a dry drawl to her voice that told Dorea that she thought Llewellyn losing control of the situation was the more likely outcome.
Yeah, okay, Dorea thought she got why Ted had listed Teulu Prydein as a problem right next to Saoirse Ghaelach now. "Right, so...Britain is pretty much doomed, is what you're saying."
"I wouldn't say doomed," Ted said, giving her a reluctant, wry sort of smirk. "At this point, it's still possible that we could pull through this in one piece. What we'd want to do is sabotage the Death Eaters before they come out into the open, and preferably even kill the Dark Lord — before the fighting proper even begins would be ideal, but we'll be fine as long as they're dealt with before the Ministry starts to crumble. And then we need to come to some kind of arrangement with the Gaels, anything we need to to cool off the nationalist fervour somewhat, even if it's only temporary. That'll give us the time we need to deal with everything else."
"And how likely is that, exactly?"
"Hard to say. I would put better odds on the former than the latter."
Andi took a sip of her tea without explaining what she meant, so Ted took over again. "When it comes to the Death Eaters, the advantage is tilted more in our favour this time. A large part of the delay in the Ministry's response was convincing people in power that they were a threat — we've seen what they'll do once already, so we won't have that problem. The Ministry has already begun to mobilise, before he's even gone public. The myth-making the Light have engaged in since, turning the Dark Lord into a villain from a storybook for children, will also work in our favour. From the other side, the Death Eaters are starting at a weaker position than last time. The Dark Lord had decades to build up a support base, but the sanctuary he originally operated from has been destroyed, many of his followers killed or imprisoned, or else having moved on with their lives in the decade and change since. He'll need to start up from scratch, where the opposition has a functioning government with hundreds of wands and the tax base of an entire country to support the effort. These next few months will be critical, but it's very possible. In fact, I think I'd bet on us.
"When it comes to the nationalist question, well, Andi and I have already told you what we think about that. The situation isn't hopeless, but I don't think it's very likely we'll manage to avoid a war. You might want to start thinking about going to the Continent for Mastery study."
"Yeah, that...might be a good idea. I could do that." Not that Dorea was entirely certainly what she'd want to do with herself after Hogwarts — at least partially, she thought she might be missing an experience that was common among people her age. She knew from some of her old things that, when she'd been young, she'd gone through a phase where she'd wanted to become a musician — she could still play piano decently well, though she didn't practise as much as she should anymore — and another with being...an architect or something, she guessed, though from the things she had left it was hard to tell if she'd been thinking in the muggle or magical sense. She'd been young then, though, and she didn't remember it very well. Aunt Cassiopeia had had her continue with the piano, since it looked good for society reasons, but if she didn't have her old books and childish drawings of floorplans and windows or whatever she'd have entirely forgotten about her fascination with architecture — that was among the memories that had been lost, when her illness had gotten bad.
...Maybe she could look back into the...building stuff. She was aware that getting into magical construction — on the design side, at least — required NEWT qualifications in Runes and Transfiguration, which... Well, Runes wasn't her best class, but she did decently well, and Transfiguration was her best class. She didn't think the aesthetic side was quite so interesting as her younger self apparently had, but the enchanting that went into magical structures were fascinating. It wasn't as though she needed to work, what with being Lady Black, but playing around with that sort of thing could be something interesting to do with herself, at least.
...
Yeah. Yeah, she could do that. She could look into it, at least. She couldn't draw at all anymore — the damage from the seizures had left her unable to even to so much as properly hold a pencil, and Aunt Cassiopeia had prioritised relearning how to write — but she didn't think that was a critical skill anyway, especially as so many magical buildings couldn't be mapped out in two dimensions. There was time to figure it out still, she'd find some books and stuff, see how she felt about it now.
Which Mastery was appropriate for that anyway? Enchanting? Wardcrafting? She'd look into it...
"Of course, the uncertainty of events to come will make it rather more difficult to plan other aspects of your future."
Pulled out of her thoughts, Dorea blinked over at Andi. "I'm sorry, what?"
There was an amused twitch of her lips, one eyebrow ticked up. "The purpose of this meeting was intended to be a discussion of how you wish to proceed with your courtship."
"Oh! Right, that explains..." She trailed off, glancing around at the envelopes sitting on the counter. It was considered appropriate to ask permission before approaching her — though a boy could talk to her directly first, that was considered a little more, um, it had different implications — so those letters must have been sent to Ted along with all the other House business. "Sorry, I assumed it was about the Dark Lord."
"That wasn't the plan, no," Ted said, "but we weren't wasting time talk about it. His return is going to be hanging over just about everything, I imagine. And like Andi just said, the timing of it does complicate matters."
"I don't think we would have been considering Death Eater families anyway."
Andi shook her head. "While security may be a concern, that is not the greatest issue. Between the Dark Lord and the national question, there may be some significant degree of unrest in the near future — and unless we are very fortunate, it may continue well into the period in which a girl your age might expect to be married, or at the least betrothed. You are in a vulnerable position, due in large part to our name and our politics — as well as your close association with certain prominent figures, for that matter — so it may become necessary to leave the country for your safety. Or you may not, perhaps everything may go smoothly. It's impossible to say, at the present time. As you might imagine, such uncertainty may complicate the courtship process significantly."
...Right, that made sense. She hadn't really thought of that.
"If you're still sure you want to do it this way, anyway."
"Hmm?"
"There's no reason you must go through a formal courtship, if you don't want to," Ted insisted, a soft tone on his voice that was probably supposed to be reassuring. "It's no great secret that you were raised in the muggle world — people are aware that arranged marriages have fallen out of favour on the other side — and the House is not in so vulnerable a position that we need whatever economic or political advantages an arrangement might bring us. Not at least going through the motions might be a subject for gossip, but with everything else going on these days, well, I don't expect people will make too much of a fuss. This is entirely optional, for you."
Giving him a little crooked smile, Dorea asked, "Isn't it a little late for that talk? Since I already had Andi put the announcement in the paper and everything."
"It would be a simple matter to claim that we have decided to delay making arrangements in light of recent events," Andi said.
"Right, okay. But no, I haven't changed my mind. I'm, um..." Dorea trailed off with a little grimace — this was kind of embarrassing to admit, honestly. She and Andi had talked about it before, of course, but far more about the timing and practical questions, not so much the why. "It's hard for me to, er... I'm bad at...talking to boys? Ones I like, I mean, I just...get all flustered, and blurt out stupid nosense..."
That was a problem, of course, but she was also unreasonably intimidated by the thought of, er, physical...stuff. She was fully aware that she was being irrational, it wasn't like she was going to end up unexpectedly pregnant (like Mum had) if she so much as kissed a boy, but she couldn't help it. It didn't help that, yes, there was her mother's example, but also she was aware that her condition could cause complications — there were issues sometimes with epilepsy in pregnancy to begin with, she was aware they'd need to keep a close eye on it when it was time for that, but some birth control stuff could be a problem too.
She was already aware — because Madam Pomfrey went out of her way to mention it, embarrassingly — that the most common potion people used to end an unwanted pregnancy early on would work, yes, but it'd almost certainly spark off a seizure while it was at it. In that mortifying conversation Madam Pomfrey had insisted on having with her, she'd said that it'd probably be the best option regardless, but Dorea would have to take the potion under medical supervision, in case of an emergency — Madam Pomfrey's point being that she absolutely shouldn't just take care of it herself, like she was aware students did now and then. (It wasn't a particularly difficult potion to brew, after all.) The thought of dating, and things, had already been intimidating enough, and that conversation hadn't really helped.
Not that she expected that would be a problem, at least not any time soon, but she could be unreasonably neurotic about things sometimes. She was fully aware it was irrational, she couldn't help it.
Ted was smirking a little, but thankfully he didn't tease her for being silly, just said, "Practice," with a little nod.
"Exactly," she said, trying not to sigh with relief. "Practice. So, it's okay if, um...the war picks up and disrupts things, I just... I don't know, the way formal courtship stuff works just seems...safer? For practice."
Andi nodded. "I understand — I knew a few a girls when I was your age who appreciated the process for the same reason. Only a few of the letter we received are from serious potential suitors. It is not unusual for political allies, or families with business ties, or people who wish to build good will toward proposing some manner of cooperation in the future, to go through the motions of the early stages before gently retracting their interest at a later date. There are also those who may feel the need to put on a performance of such for reasons of social standing — second or third sons in positions of prominence who remain unmarried, for whatever reason. It would be simple enough to signal to any of these individuals that we wish to take a few friendly meetings, with no suggestion of anything further to come. An ally who may understand your wish for practice may be ideal."
...So, like, literally setting up practice dates, with people who knew they were practice dates? That seemed a little silly to Dorea...but it was probably best they be open about it, so nobody's feelings got hurt? And so nobody could get offended about the Blacks snubbing them or whatever, she guessed. "Yeah, that sounds fine. Um, nobody too much older than me?"
"How much is too much?" Andi asked, frowning a little. "Those writing to us on behalf of boys close to your age are more likely to hold serious interest. The second and third sons I referred to before — those who may be more amenable to more casual, friendly meetings — are generally going to be grown men."
Right, that made sense, obviously. "Um...I don't know, I just...seems like it'd be awkward..." She didn't think she'd have much to talk about with someone who was much older than her, and at that point that didn't really count as very good practice, did it? But it did make sense that people closer to her age would be being more serious about it — a lot of the second and third sons Andi was referring to were probably more interested in a career or something, or gay and uninterested in marriage anyway — so, men who were at least somewhat older than her was probably going to be the best, low-pressure practice she could get. "I don't know, let's say if they're old enough to be my father, that's too old. Mastery students are probably good?"
"Mastery students are likely going to be toward the younger end of the set I have in mind, but we can try to come up with some names."
"All right." At least whatever they were studying would be something they could talk about, if they had literally nothing else in common. She still expected it was going to be awkward, but as long as it was only practice — and everyone involved understood it was only practice — she guessed that was fine.
"We might want to consider having Sirius chaperone," Ted said.
"What? You mean..." That there would be some adults present was only to be expected. Dorea knew the way it generally worked (at least in the early stages of the process) was that there would be adults from both families present — the prospective couple would get to talk relatively alone, out of earshot, but not so far they were out of sight. The idea was to prevent anything, er, untoward from happening, or in more violent times to reduce the risk of kidnappings or the like. The latter reason was actually more important to most people lately, since the culture had shifted such that nobody really cared anymore if young people messed around before marriage, and they'd just gone through a period lately where people had used courtship as a means to get close to people they meant to curse or poison. Someone had tried to kidnap Andi herself at a meeting when she'd been about Dorea's age, apparently. So, she'd known there would be adults around, but "I don't know if that's a good idea. Sirius is a bit, er..."
His lips twitching into a smirk, Ted drawled, "Intimidating?"
"I think I was going for 'protective', but yeah."
"I'm certain Ted is concerned about your safety," Andi explained. "Our Family do have enemies. With the Dark Lord returned, and increasing activity from nationalist groups — I would be more concerned with Teulu Prydein than Saoirse Ghaelach, to be honest... It is reasonable to take precautions. Nymphadora may begin to match him in a few years, but for the time being Sirius is the most competent battlemage associated with the Family, even after a dozen years wasting away in Akzaban." Second best, Dorea was pretty sure, but obviously Andi's elder sister wouldn't be tagging along for her courtship meetings. "I understand he may be a...trying presence, but I would be more comfortable with him accompanying you. In the event of an emergency."
"Not to say we think an emergency is likely," Ted said, with a reappearance of that soft reassuring tone from before, "but..."
Dorea nodded. "Better safe than sorry."
"Exactly."
"All right, that's...fine, I guess." It took some effort to hold in a sigh — she couldn't help the feeling that Sirius was going to be difficult, about this. Especially since they were going to be older than her. Attending the duelling tournaments, and when he was at the school for Triwizard events, Dorea had noticed he could be a bit...odd, about her male friends. It was obvious he was trying not to give anything away, but his discomfort was enough for her to pick up on it. She'd never really asked but, from a few comments here and there, she got the impression he often thought of her as rather younger than she was — he hadn't been around since she'd been a toddler, and the influence of the dementors meant that his twelve years in Akzaban had felt significantly shorter than that, and, it just felt too early to him to be worrying about boys. Made him uncomfortable.
It wasn't only that, she didn't think. Again, haven't asked, but she thought there was also an element of guilt there, that he hadn't been around when she was growing up, so he was inclined toward hypervigilance in a possibly unconscious effort to compensate. He did try not to stick his nose in her business too much, aware that he'd been a practical stranger until recently — but just because he was trying not to annoy her didn't mean he didn't worry, more than he really needed to. (Honestly, she and Michael were just friends, Sirius didn't have to be so weird about it.) Of course, it probably didn't help that he'd gotten around when he'd been her age, so, it was possible he was projecting what he'd been like as a teenager onto her male friends, just a bit.
So yeah, she fully expected that Sirius would be a pain about it. But Andi and Ted made a good point about her being a potential target for multiple different groups of dangerous people operating in the country at the moment, and Sirius was the best option they had to take care of a situation if one turned up, so she guessed she'd just have to deal with it.
...Maybe it would be a good idea to talk about this stuff with him first. Knowing that it was just practice would probably help, but... Honestly, they didn't talk about serious personal stuff that much anyway? Their relationship was still very new, and she guessed they'd both being a bit...careful, feeling each other out. Dorea honestly didn't think they had much in common, and Sirius could be a bit...volatile, and intense, and intimidating at times, so it could be uncomfortable talking about anything too sensitive with him. But that was silly, it's not like she thought he was going to hurt her or anything, she should just get over it.
She wasn't really happy with their relationship yet, honestly — it was just complicated, with everything that had and was still going on, she had expected it to take time to...feel right. So, maybe talking about this would help? Felt like it was worth trying, at least.
Dorea wasn't fully paying attention to the rest of their meeting — Andi and Ted talking about the people they'd gotten letters from already, who was serious and who was just going through the motions, who they might actually be talking to and some of the social implications concerned (she did actually know a couple of them) — instead half-heartedly rehearsing in her head how she'd go about talking about boys with her father. This was going to be so bloody awkward...
Hi! This chapter was written partially before and partially after the surgery I mentioned a couple times...and before I came down with covid. Yes, I have covid while also recovering from surgery, I'm having a great time right now. Writing is also going to be slow for that reason — I'm actually not writing at all today, since my covid headache is making me too brain-fuzzy to write. But I did come up with the energy to proofread this scene, so here you guys go. Hopefully I can get back into my writing routine before too much longer, but that depends on how long covid decides to fuck with me.
So, see you all next time, whenever that ends up being lol