mr. black

She was well acquainted with his displeasure, and in the past, Andromeda would have quailed under that expression. But now … now, nothing seemed to matter anymore, not even her father’s disapproval. She held his gaze out of habit, although she honestly didn’t care what he had to say. Even when his instructions cut off, it didn’t have any real effect on her. She’d known that her parents enjoyed each other’s company, but as neither of them cared for hers, she had never spent very long wondering what their relationship might be. Apparently her father did have a heart, despite outward appearances.

She nodded as he continued, because there wasn’t anything to say to either of those statements. She was all too aware of the losses - her nightmares didn’t let her ever forget that her mother was gone. She didn’t spare much thought for her aunt, but it was impossible to forget that the family had been so bereft. In the wake of everything that had happened, family dinner was the last thing she cared about, and the thought of sitting through hours with only the company of her father, sisters, and cousin was nearly unbearable. But the consequences of not attending were too great to contemplate. “Yes, Father. I understand. Do you wish me to tell Bella and Cissa?”

Cygnus shook his head, “There will be no need. I will let them know myself.” He closed his eyes then, feeling more tired than he had in a long time. He truly felt his age in that moment, with the weight of his entire life resting on his shoulder. Their family was in a precarious position, and it had all happened while under his leadership. The blame for that weighed on him heavily, and he had not even truly begun to unravel it all. He hadn’t had the time. Not then, and as much as it pained him, not now. He opened his eyes, letting his gaze rest on Andromeda. How was he supposed to raise her and her sisters without his wife? How could he raise her, when she was... the way that she was. He didn’t know how to handle it. He thought of Druella, and the talks they used to have. She hadn’t known how to manage Andromeda either, but she was certainly better at it than he was. 

He looked away from her, and lifted a hand to knead the skin above his eyebrows. He had never needed a drink so badly in his life. With a long sigh, Cygnus pushed himself up from his seat. “Six PM.” He reminded her again, staring down at her severely. “Don’t forget, and don’t be late.” He didn’t see any need for any further instruction, so without delay, he turned away from his daughter and pushed onwards back out of the Common Room.

Ted should have expected Cygnus Black would ask about the duel. His own parents had been notified of his behavior and he was sure that Andromeda’s had been contacted as well considering she had been injured by the events of the duel. Of course he was angry that Andromeda had been involved, yet his anger seemed to be directed at Ted. It dawned on Ted that Cygnus likely had everyone’s version of the event but his own, and that meant Mulciber probably had the opportunity to frame Ted as the villain. Considering Cygnus Black held Ted in contempt simply for his blood status, it was doubtful he would be able to convince Andromeda’s father he had not meant to hurt his daughter.

“Yes, sir.” Ted replied seriously, ready to elaborate on his side of the story. He ignored the way Cygnus Black threw his title back in his face as an insult and pressed forward. Very few in the wizarding world seemed to have a respect for traditional forms of address when it came to muggle titles, and Ted had never cared about proper protocol anyway. “I did participate in the duel. Joseph Mulciber and I had a misunderstanding which we elected to resolve in that way. It was a poor decision and I deeply regret my part in it, especially because Andromeda was injured.” Ted did hold himself accountable for his actions, and had already been lectured by Professor Sprout, Edward Bones, Kingsley Shaklebolt, and his own father about his part in the duel. He had long since accepted his responsibility and had apologized to Andromeda for deflecting the curse in toward her. Truth be told, he still felt quiet bad about it. If only he had been better at dueling, than she never would have gotten hurt. 

“I swear I never meant to hurt your daughter.” Ted promised sincerely. “I deflected Amycus Carrow’s hex and accidentally hit Andromeda with it. It will never happen again, you have my word.” Never in his life would Ted have hurt Andromeda on purpose, though he couldn’t convey the depth of his sincerity to her father. It was clear the man had no intention of finding anything but fault with Ted. He supposed the best he could do was lessen how much fault he could find. 

Cygnus let Ted’s words drip off into the air, saying absolutely nothing in return. He likely didn’t need to, for he knew his expression would do all of the talking. He glared down at the mudblood boy in front of him. He was earnest, Cygnus believed that much. It only made it all the more worse, though. His lip curled into a high sneer. If looks could kill, Tonks would lie in ashes at his feet. How could his daughter have been so foolish to let this mudblood into her life, even if it was something as simple as knowing her by her first name?

When the right amount of uncomfortable silence passed them by, Cygnus finally made a move to speak. “You and Joseph Mulciber had a misunderstanding?” He asked, spinning Tonks’ words back in his direction. He’d heard Joseph’s part of the story, and while he could see that the Mulciber boy would say whatever he thought Cygnus wanted to hear, no doubt there was some amount of truth to it. “What was the nature of this misunderstanding?” 

Andromeda was cold. She had been cold for so long now and nothing she tried seemed to make her warm again. Even now, sitting in her warmest jumper and tights, with a heavy blanket wrapped around her, she was cold from the inside out. She’d brought a book to the common room to read in the hopes that it would stave off the images she couldn’t seem to forget. Although many people didn’t seem to understand it, she did love the common room; it was soothing to be there with the views of the lake and she found it peaceful as she tried to make her way through the book in her hands.

Of course the peace wouldn’t last. She didn’t look up at the sound of the door opening, and that proved to be a mistake as she was unprepared for her father’s presence looming over her. She flinched, dropping the book in her shock. “Father,” she said stiffly, leaning over to retrieve the book and straighten out the bent pages. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” And that was painfully obvious; she’d been curled up, cocooned in the blanket with her feet tucked under herself. Now she straightened up so that she was sitting properly, though she kept the blanket pulled close.

With a look of distaste on his face, Cygnus watched as Andromeda fumbled with the book in her hands. He had always viewed her as more of a dissapointment than his other two daughters, and that seemed even more poignant to him than ever before in the wake of Druella’s death. He let her greeting hang in the air for a moment, drumming his fingers along the arm of the chair. For a moment, that was the only sound in the room, save for the crackling of the fire. Cygnus took a long, deep breath before settling Andromeda with thoroughly empty eyes. “There’s some things we need to talk about. Now that your mother--”

For a second, Cygnus found it hard to go on. It had been nine days since the 4th of January, nine days in which he’d had to live with the knowledge that the only person to ever make him feel warm inside was gone forever. He closed his eyes for a split second, before continuing on. “Your mother is gone. My sister is gone.” There was a severity in his tone that hadn’t been there a moment before. “This is something we need to sit down and discuss.” He waved a hand, wandlessly conjuring a cigar into his hand. With another wave of his hand, the end was lit, and smoke began to rise into the air. “We’ll be having a family dinner tomorrow evening. I’ve told Regulus, but I’ve yet to tell your sisters. I expect you to be there promptly, and on time. Six PM, is that understood?”

How was her father taking Druella Black’s death? Bellatrix had her suspicions, they were similar after all. Behind an ice cold mask, a heart still beat. Albeit with little regard for anyone else but family. It was evident to anyone that Druella and Cygnus made a whole. She ruled society with charm and an iron fist. She was carved out of the same ice as Narcissa, the perfect match for someone as formidable as Cygnus Black. How many times had Bellatrix seen the two plotting their next move in perfect unison, feeding off eachother’s energy. Her father loved her mother more than he loved the scent of freshly spilled blood. Losing her was not just a hit to the Black family image and power, but tremendously personal. For the longest time, they’d been untouchable. One event had change that. Not only had they lost Druella, but Aunt Walburga as well. Her father’s sister. Bellatrix didn’t know what she would do if Narcissa or Andromeda had been targeted. She’d be on a war path, no one left behind. Revenge bubbled in her veins. The murders would be avenged. 

Her father complimented her skill and she nodded. Bellatrix had been getting herself in the Restricted Section since her first year. Without a hitch, she’d evaded librarians and prefects alike. Bellatix’s plans for the dark lord were similar to how she lived her life: methodological and careful. Anything could accomplished with enough care. The book returned to the table, her father breaking the silence. There was much they needed to discuss, especially with certain aspects coming to light. Although she’d hope to pour through more texts, that could wait. Bellatrix was family oriented, she would never say no to her father. “Of course… to your office?” She asked, getting to work on clearing the table. With a small flick of her wand, books flew towards the shelves, organizing themselves. Magick Most Evil stayed put, Bellatrix’s slipping it into her bag. Her eyes quickly shot over to the students before turning her attention back to her father. 

Cygnus was in an unusual state. He’d always been a dutiful man, the sort of person that was responsible. Even when life was made difficult, such as when Alphard had left the family, or when his father had passed away. Cygnus had always done his duty. He was used to it, so much so, that it was not even difficult to put his nose into work. It was his second nature, as easy to him as breathing. Knowing this, he couldn’t help but to be shocked by how difficult it was to do so now. Druella, his beloved wife, had been killed. So had his sister, and so had many other pureblooded wives. It was almost too much for Cygnus to handle, and that had never been the case before. He had always been able to handle everything thrown his way. It seemed that even Cygnus Black was not immune to the woes of grieving one’s spouse. Still, Druella would want him to continue on, so continue on he must. Their family had taken an enormous blow in the last few weeks, and it was up to him to regroup, and keep them pointed in the right direction. 

“Yes, to my office.” He replied shortly, still looking out over at the passing students. The few who recognized him were smart enough to keep their heads down. The others that dared to make eye contact quickly looked away. Good, he thought, as it should be. He waited for Bellatrix to gather all of her things, and as soon as she finished, he turned and strode off towards the exit, knowing that Bellatrix would follow. The walk to his office was silent. Such silence was common within their family, and both he and Bellatrix were used to it. When they finally made their way into his solace, he shut the door behind her and locked it with a wave of his wand. He turned around, walking towards his desk. He dropped into his chair with a sigh, reaching for his cigars. With his free hand, he motioned towards his chair. “Go on, sit down. There are some things you and I need to talk about.”

Bellatrix’s rise in the Death Eaters was met with much push and pull. She could remember the burning ceremony. They’d gathered in Little Hangleton: the Dark Lord, his innermost circle, and Lucius. Bella had returned from her small disappearance a new woman. With sprouting ideas of allegiance that she’d expressed only to her closest confidante. Like Eve with her apple, she’d quickly roped Lucius in. She’d always had sway in his thoughts, and above all, she wouldn’t let an opportunity like this miss him. There’d been inklings of the Dark Lord, a wizard more powerful that Gellert Grindelwald. And such news caught her attention. Especially when met with a moment of desperation after her engagement announcement. Prying eyes had been cast on the new recruits, which would inspire fear in any normal person. Bellatrix Black was not of that vein. She kept her head high, fully comprehending the seriousness of her decision. As the Dark Lord carved his mark into her forearm, she did not wince. Instead, she kept her gaze on one of the most dangerous wizard the world had seen. Never intimidated, never wavering. The Death Eaters would be her vehicle to greatness. And she would will it into being.

It’d been her wand that had eliminated the Dark Lord’s previous first lieutenant. Mutiny had been spreading through her thoughts like poison. He’d been a Knight of Walpurgis, a loyal follower when the Dark Lord began his climb to infamy. But age and ego had deluded him from thinking bigger. He was so similar to the patriarchs Bellatrix had encountered. Condescending, weak, their vision bleak as English weather. Bella’s anger had reached a boiling point during one of their meetings. Her proposition had been flawless: an execution that would inspire fear and eliminate a potential future threat. She had the backing her fellow witches and wizards, yet the cards hadn’t tipped in her favor. Instead, the first lieutenant struck down her plan, replacing it with his own. A sloppy rendition of a murder that would certainly catch the attention of the aurors. In Bella’s mind, it was people like that who prevented the cause from mobilizing.

As darkness descended, a troupe of Death Eater slunk in the shadows of London. Bellatrix had apparated from Black Manor, the house quiet with the sounds of sleep and night. Underage, she’d mastered the skill on her own. The chaos descended when they reached the target’s home. Spells were shot left and right, a fury of battle breaking out in between bedrooms and corridors. She’d successfully played her part. Others, however, had been careless. As death laid its cold hand on the building, someone had escaped. Right under the nose of the first lieutenant. Bellatrix had been furious- never one to accept mediocrity. The lieutenant sent back the rest of the group, keeping Bella behind to fix his mistake. No doubt he would try to put the blame on her. There’d been too many instances of her challenging him for him to feel comfortable. A woman who didn’t know her place, she overheard during a private conversation. The two stalked after the victim, predators under the summer moonlight. She let him take the lead. Her own plan required it, hidden in the depths of her mind. “It’s girl like you, playing a soldier, that cause these mistakes to happen.” He sneered and that had been the final straw. Light erupted between the pair, green shadows of the devil flickering on the brick walls of the alley.

When Bellatrix returned to the Death Eater’s meeting place, she came with two bodies. That of the first lieutenant and that of the runaway. It’d been the faithful night she’d finally gotten the recognition she deserved. And more so, it showed that she was not one to be crossed. Mistakes and arrogance would quickly meet her wand. The Dark Lord, impressed at with her cruelty and nerve, quickly gave her the position. In her, he saw a loyal servant, a prodigy that would be a catalyst for their cause. It didn’t take long for Bellatrix to experience disdain from other Knights of Walpurgis. The patriarchs were disgusted with the thought of her. A child, a girl, who’d been entrusted with the Dark Lord’s deepest darkest secrets. Any reservations were quickly snuffed out. Bellatrix made an example out of the Gaunt heir, who’d tried his best to undermine her. His heavily pregnant wife and him both supported the cause, regularly attending the meetings. And too brashly did they voice their opinions and lies.

Bellatrix struck like lightning, organizing a dinner. Her informants had floated around the Death Eaters, gathering the names of those that wished her ill. As her guests arrived to their meeting, Bellatrix got to work. Sometimes, the best magic was unseen. Potions, cursed objects. Gaunt had the audacity to challenge her leadership, trying to take her agency. So, she too would take something from him. They’d been expecting a baby boy, an heir to their Sacred 28 position. The dinner ended, Bellatrix staying silent the entire evening until the time had come. The Gaunt matriarch had gone white in the face, her body shaking. Bellatrix had never seen the results of Poppy Milk, but she’d heard stories. Witches went through terrifying experiences to get rid of their children. The pain was said to resemble hot fire. Gaunt watched in horror as his wife screamed, bloody murder. Judgment day had come. She rose from the table, nothing but calm crossing her features before she spoke. This will be the last night of arrogance, disrespect and patronization. I am prepared to do things none of you could even imagine. Let the Gaunts serve as examples. I am not the enemy you want to have.

All of Bellatrix’s choices and actions had been hidden away from her family. She played her part beautifully, never leaving behind suspicion or guilty fingers that pointed in her direction. Bellatrix was raised a perfectionist, and she striven to excel at everything she did. She had planned that the day would come for her family to know what she truly was. But, she’d expected to have that conversation after they won the war. Once the reaped the benefits she’d bestowed. Now, staring into the eyes of her father, she felt his words pierce her skin. She’d never kept secrets from him, their connection always open and clear. Did it shock him to see the mark appear on her forearm, that for the first time in her life, his beloved heir had acted on her own accord. Bellatrix’s mouth pressed into a thin line. It was true, her father was a valuable ally to have. And if she ever was caught, merlin forbid, the Blacks would need him to control the damage. She kept her mouth shut, her previous bravado dissipating. Cygnus Black was right as usual.  Her sisters, her responsibility. The more who knew of her position, the more blame there would be to go around.

A smile spread across her father’s face, she watched on as he revived the cigar. She’d always been the dutiful daughter, following every order to a tee. Had she fulfilled his wishes yet again, her decisions aligning with his? Bellatrix followed her father’s move, taking a seat back at the desk. It was curious that she held the answers he was looking for, when so many times it had been the other way around. “No I suppose not.” She nodded, busying herself to conceal the revealed mark. She would not risk it being seen, paranoia still pulling at her despite the privacy spells. Bella had gone to great lengths to find a believable charm. As she muttered the words, the mark faded back to the color of her skin. She hadn’t seen it in the longest time, feeling its call when need be. Bellatrix’s attention perked up at the mention of general, knowing all too well who that person was. Tales of her skill had trickled down through the ranks, even reaching the ears of her father. Then again, Cygnus Black did have a monopoly on all information. No one breathed without him knowing it. It was almost a miracle she’d evaded him for this long. “I think that… power should be in the hands of those who know how to wield it.” Her first lesson her father had ever taught her had been just that. 

Cygnus spun the neck of the wine glass between his thumb and pointer finger, watching Bellatrix carefully. This conversation hadn’t gone at all how he had expected it to. He had brought her in for a lecture. She had shamed him, after all, as far as he was concerned. She had also apologized, and come to see the error of her ways, just as he had expected her to do so. The thing about Bellatrix was that she always did what he expected her to, often times before he even knew to think such things. It was as if she had always known what she ought to do, by only being told one time. He told her one time that he expected her to do well academically during her time at Hogwarts, and she consistently brought him O’s. He told her to look out for her sisters, and now, not a soul in the castle didn’t know of her fierce protection of them. He told her to be strong, and she became the right-hand general to one of the fiercest Dark Wizards of their time. 

Some men would find this troubling. Lesser man would balk at the idea of their daughter holding more power than them. These men would scold their daughter, order her to stop, and then ultimately, that daughter would disobey. Those lesser man would alienate her, simply because of their lack of strength. Cygnus Black was not a lesser man. Cygnus was a strong man, in all of the right ways. Cygnus understood things that most fathers didn’t, couldn’t, perhaps. The edges of his lips twisted into a smile, and he brought his glass of wine to his lips. He took a sip, delighting momentarily in the taste, thinking of the good things to come. Cygnus had not planned this new development. He had not ordered it, and he had not known about it. Of course, this did not mean that he planned to allow Bellatrix full reign. But to shun her for what was, it seemed, a strong and powerful decision that could bring their family great prosperity if done right... that was not smart. He must guide her on this journey now, and do everything he could to see the Dark Lord to victory. He had worked in the background, faintly, staying mostly focused on his personal family affairs. But it seemed that now, the Dark Lord’s victory, was certainly a personal family affair. 

He would guide her now, he decided, as he set his glass of wine back on the table. He was her father, and whether Bellatrix understood it or not, she was the future of his legacy. She would change her name one day, but she would always be his. It was not clear to Cygnus whether or not Regulus would amount to anything other than a shy, foolish follower. Sirius had been a lost cause from the earliest moments of childhood. Andromeda... she just did not share their vision, and therefore would never bring them greatness. Meekness, perhaps, but greatness never. Narcissa would bring greatness to Lucius and his name, as was expected of her, that was perfectly acceptable. But Bellatrix... she was his, and if this was done right, their names would echo forever in the halls of history.

I think that… power should be in the hands of those who know how to wield it. Triumph burst in his chest at the sound of those words. His smile widened, and he chuckled, nodding his head. “Good answer.” He brought his cigar to his mouth, placing it between his lips with a pensive look on his face. There were so many possibilities now, with this new development. This conversation truly had not gone where he had expected it to, yes, but he did not fear that. Instead, he chose to embrace it, thinking of all the different outcomes. His eyes flickered back to Bellatrix. Power should be in the hands of those who know how to wield it. “Let us put aside the theatrics, shall we?” He quipped. He pointed to her abandoned glass of wine. “Go on, drink. It is just you and I here.” He waved his own glass slightly in encouragement. He blew smoke from his mouth, and then plucked the cigar from his lips. “So, you’re the Dark Lord’s general.” All traces of amusement were gone from his voice, replaced by a point-blank bluntness. It was not unkind, but Cygnus wanted to be frank with his daughter. He played silly games all day, and while he enjoyed them thoroughly, he believed this moment called for more seriousness. 

“Do you believe you know how to wield power?” It wasn’t a trick question, meant to make her stumble or falter. He knew the answer, he would bet an entire limb on that, but he wanted to hear it from her. Because he knew the answer, he did not wait for her to say it aloud. He plowed forward, keeping a tight grip on the conversation. “Because I think that you do.” He tilted his head to the side, looking at her plainly. “I think you can do great things by the Dark Lord’s side, but let me make one thing clear.” He placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward over the table. “You will not ever make such a big decision without consulting me again. You will not. You will make a wonderful leader, but do not ever forget who taught you those skills.” He leaned back, and then brought his wine glass up for another sip. 

“We are family, Bellatrix.” His voice had lowered, now carrying a sort of soft importance, a stark contrast to his sharpness a moment prior. “You are Bellatrix Black. You are never to forget where your loyalties lie. Not ever. As your father, I can, and I will help you. But you will never be dishonest with me again, do you understand?”

After the attack on Hogsmeade, Edward Bones had been under fire. Ministry officials, Hogwarts staff, the Board of Governors, and parents had all been at his throat demanding answers. Answers Edward Bones did not have. If he had known such attacks were being planned, they wouldn’t have happened, he would have stopped them. Why didn’t he know the attacks were going to happen? Well, it’s not like Grindelwald saw fit to alert the Auror’s office of his plans. Until Edward could pinpoint where these extremist groups were getting their information on the inner workings of Hogwarts, he would not be able to ensure that such attacks could be stopped. He could only do his best to manage the threats and attempt to prevent situations that the extremists could target. Edward was doing his best, he really was, and despite it all the person who blamed Edward Bones the most for the tragedy that occurred in Hogsmeade, was Edward himself. He should have known that the day trip would have been targeted. He should have taken down more of Grindelwald’s supporters, or taken more in alive for questioning. He should have saved more civilians. There were a million things he should have done differently and then maybe things might not have been so devastating.

Edward had made sure to listen to every grieving parent and student who came looking for someone to yell at, cry to, or blame. His office had been a revolving door as one by one people came to unburden themselves and he listened intently to each and every one of them. It was the least he could do. By the end of each day his nerves were frayed and his heart heavy, but if he could ease some of their pain, pain that wouldn’t have been there had he been better at his job, then it was worth it. The papers continued to run the story, listing the names and depicting the deaths in graphic detail. Edward hadn’t missed the familiar names and faces of people he knew quite well. There was one that had been on his mind in particular. Druella Black.

It was no secret that Edward Bones and Cygnus Black didn’t get along. Their mutual animosity had been a staple of their relationship ever since their school days, though Edward attributed that to ridiculous rivalry and petty competition. His real dislike for Cygnus Black always stemmed from how he and his kind vocally opposed Edward’s marriage to Adeline. Edward had never known a greater love than perhaps that for his children, and he couldn’t imagine his life without Adeline. As much as Edward disliked Cygnus, he couldn’t imagine the other man’s pain. It surprised him that Cygnus had not come to his office to yell at him as everyone else had, but of course he didn’t. He wasn’t like anyone else. Even in his grief, Cygnus probably thought himself above visiting Edward’s makeshift office with everyone else.

If Cygnus would not come to Edward, well, Edward would have to go to Cygnus. He didn’t expect it to be a pleasant visit, but it was a necessary one. Edward wanted to offer his condolences, though it would hardly be a comfort, it was the right thing to do. So he made his way to the accommodations for the visiting parents. Surprised to see Cygnus in the common area, Edward wasn’t sure it if was luck or misfortune that he should be so conveniently available. Edward gritted his teeth attempting to refrain from any biting remarks, simply nodding at the greeting. “My cologne is actually called something else, but I suppose that might be a good name for it.”

Cygnus rolled his eyes before Edward had even finished his sentence. On a normal day, he would have been thrilled to find himself engaged in conversation with Edward Bones. Cygnus hated the man with a passion, and enjoyed making that known. He didn’t feel quite like his normal self right now, and he wasn’t sure he would have the energy to deal with such an annoyance. With Edward’s voice droning behind him, Cygnus leaned forward towards the table next to his seat. There was a cigar resting on the surface, one he had not lit yet. He grabbed it, and lit it with the end of his wand. He was just letting out his first bit of smoke when the buzz of Edward voice disappeared from behind him. He took a breath, before turning to look at Edward once more. “Oh, did you say something?” He lifted his cigar again. “My apologies, I wasn’t listening.” 

Cygnus gave Edward another appraising look, before placing the cigar between his lips. Losing Druella had taken so much of the color out of life, he almost couldn’t believe it. Even Edward Bones, his bitter rival, was unable to draw up any strong emotions other than exhaustion and annoyance. He would have thrived in a moment like this, just a week prior. He had come to Hogwarts to get a look at the place, and Edward Bones was temporarily living here. Just one week ago, he would have planned for this to the smallest of details. It was fascinating how much could change in just one week. Blinking a little, and realizing that he had been silent for longer than socially appropriate, he blew out his smoke, and then cleared his throat. 

“You’re doing a fine job at protecting the school, Edward.” Cygnus murmured, raising an eyebrow in Edward’s direction. To an eavesdropper with no context regarding the relationship between the two men, Cygnus’ voice would almost sound sincere. However, the both of them knew that Cygnus was anything but. He chuckled a little. “There were more children alive than dead, I suppose that’s the new standard for success now, isn’t it?” He clicked his tongue, and then tapped his cigar against the table to knock away the ash. “If I were you, I’d be worried about losing my job, but--” He laughed again, a little louder, “-- I’m sure you have some plan to catch the people who did this, being the Head Auror and what not.” Cygnus tilted his head, bringing the cigar back to his lips. “You do, don’t you?”

They’re taken care of. Ted grew even more uneasy at the thought of Mr. Black having his rounds covered. That meant this was more than a chance encounter. No, Cygnus Black had been lying in wait for him and had even gone so far as to make sure that he would not be missed for quite some time. Ted felt his heart rate accelerate and he shifted his weight slightly with the unease. Bellatrix had promised not to say anything to her father about what she had seen on Christmas, and Andromeda certainly wouldn’t tell her father about their secret relationship. On top of that, Ted and Andromeda had kept their distance for weeks now, hardly sparing one another a momentary glance just to be safe. What had Cygnus Black heard about him that would warrant going to such lengths to talk to him?

The disdain and hatred in his eyes felt pointed and Ted couldn’t have glanced away if he wanted to. He felt paralyzed under Mr. Black’s scrutiny and he refrained from tugging at his tie nervously. His father always admonished him for the habit. Stand up straight. Keep eye contact. Don’t look so nervous. His father’s orders barked somewhere in his memory. How many times had he heard that advice and hadn’t dared to ignore it at important functions? Ted didn’t enjoy society events, he never had, but he thanked his lucky stars for the practice at schooling his features and introducing himself politely, concisely, and effectively.

Had he been talking to a muggle noble, Ted could have gone on autopilot. His short elevator speech one that he had more than memorized by now. His parents had drilled him relentlessly over the years not to accidentally slip details of his life in the wizarding world, and to embrace the carefully crafted lies they had spun for him. Be humble, but do no diminish your accomplishments. No one will respect you unless you give them reason to. If only he had been so prepared to talk to members of wizard society. Ted took a deep breath and settled his features into a polite smile even if he could not fully erase the nervous tension in his shoulders and folded his hands behind his back. He supposed he would have to wing this one.

“Yes, sir. My name is Edward Tonks, Earl of Ogle and I am a seventh year Hufflepuff. I suppose you already know that I am a Prefect, but I also play for my house’s Quidditch team as a Chaser while also being a member of the Slug Club and Art Club.” Ted wanted to kick himself for including his title. It was second nature to him in these sorts of situations but it would hardly help him in any way with Cygnus. It was just another reminder of his blood-status. “I’m not quite sure what you’ve heard about me, sir, but I would be more than happy to answer any questions you might have. Rumors can get quite- uh- imaginative around here.” Civilized men speak with conviction, Edward, they do not say ‘um.’ Ted really, really wanted to loosen his tie a bit as his nerves only grew worse, but he managed to only straighten his shoulders and try for another smile.

The mudblood yanked on his tie like an overgrown toddler, and Cygnus found his irritation bristling even further. He had never been given a son, but if he had, that boy would have known how to stand with power. Ted Tonks was the weak, unnatural offspring of muggles, but even more than that, Ted Tonks didn’t even try to present himself as anything worthy of Cygnus Black’s daughter. From his stupid, beady little eyes, to the disgraceful yellow he wore on his robes, Ted Tonks was everything Cygnus hated about Hogwarts. A school so old, and so historical, that even the walls were embedded in a magic far beyond the common understanding. A school so magnificent deserved inhabitants that fit the worth of its legacy. These invaders, these muggle scum, were not worthy to walk these halls, not on the same level as someone like him.

And yet, there Tonks stood before him. 

Cygnus’ lip curled into a sneer at the mudblood’s introduction, and his silly muggle titles. Earl of Ogle. No doubt, the mudblood thought Cygnus would be impressed by such frivolities. Quidditch, Art Club, the bumbling Professor Slughorn and his ass kissing club. All posh, and nothing of substance. Still, Cygnus allowed the mudblood a chance to say his piece, however unconvincing he knew it would be. As he suspected, Cygnus remained entirely unimpressed and overwhelmingly bothered with each word that left the mudblood’s mouth. When he had finally finished stuttering, Cygnus was swift in his reply. 

“I heard you participated in a duel.” Sharp was his reply, as he stepped even closer to the mudblood. Gone was his false friendly demeanor from moments ago. It had been replaced by the pointed anger that he was famous for. “An illegal duel. A duel that ended with my daughter being injured. Care to explain your side of the story, Ted Tonks, Earl of Ogle?”

The library had always been a place of peace for Bellatrix. Be it the one at Black Manor or Hogwarts. Books served as something to get lost in. She could sit for hours devouring novel after novel, her aptitude for Ravenclaw certainly noted by the Sorting Hat. Maybe if she’d chosen the Eagles, the world would’ve been different… Bellatrix brushed the thoughts out of her head. There was no point in yearning for what ifs, not with their current situation. She’d already cornered Dolohov and given him his sentence: an unbreakable vow of loyalty. He’d be dead if he ever crossed her. She’d made it very clear to her Death Eaters that the deaths would be avenge, and her wand was itching to cast a killing curse towards any white cloak. The war had come to their doorstep, sweeping through like a hurricane and taking lives… she would simply do the same. There was no better dished served by a Black than revenge.

She’d gathered a large stack of books, letting herself into the restricted section since Madam Pince’s eyesight was lackluster at best. Each title had something in common: Military Strategies during the Great War, A History of Magic: the Age of Discord, Ancient Curses. By no means were they light reads, but Bellatrix had no interest in fairy tales. Her fingers trailed down the page, pursing her lips in thought. There were very few things can could distract her from the current passage, unless of course it was her father. Her eyes flickered up to his face as he sat next to her. He’d be returning to an empty house in no time, which only sparked Bellatrix’s anger once more. Dolohov had made the mistake of calling her Lady Black, a title that once belonged to her mother… now it was hers to wear, much to her chagrin. How was her father taking the loss? “Godelot’s Magick Moste Evil… granted the cover is hexed to come across as Elementary Potions.” The work was listed on the Ministry’s banned books, claiming to be corrupting and full of dangerous spells even strong witches would struggle with. That didn’t stop Bellatrix from reading it cover to cover- she only had to be smart about possessing it.

Bellatrix was reading a most impressive stack of books, though he would have expected no less from his genius daughter. She had always been ahead of the rest, hadn’t she? Reading, writing, speaking far before most children had. Cygnus felt something pull in his chest as he looked at her. He had been feeling more... emotional... than he ever had before, ever since the death of Druella. It was a foreign and decidedly unwelcome feeling, but it was present as he observed Bellatrix. There were few things that could pierce the icy shell he had constructed around his heart, but the brutal murder of the only witch he had ever loved was enough to burn through it entirely, leaving him lost and confused in its wake. Cygnus smirked, “Of course it is. Smart work, Bellatrix.” It wouldn’t do for her to be caught reading a book from the Ministry’s list of banned texts.

Cygnus pulled the book towards him, flipping idly through a few of the pages. The text hadn’t been banned in Cygnus’ youth, and he had managed to read it while it was still legal. It was nice to know that his daughter was finding a way to take in the information despite it’s testy legal status. After a minute, he closed the book, and then looked up to Bellatrix. “We should leave here.” He said, casting a disdainful glance towards some of the students moving past them. “There are some things I think it important to discuss with you, but I would rather do it privately. Away from the riff-raff.”

Anything that her father did always had a purpose. He would never ask a question without expecting a certain answer. He never spoke to someone unless there was something to gain. Interactions for Cygnus Black were opportunities. The moment the Dark Lord’s name left her father’s lips, Bellatrix was suspicious. She’d kept her loyalty under the covers for years now, ever since she pledged herself to the cause. It’d been days since the engagement announcement, her fate falling in the hands of Rodolphus Lestrange. Bellatrix had recoiled into herself, she grown to expect more. That she didn’t need a marriage, that she herself was enough to lead the family. Bella may have a pureblooded woman, but she thought her father saw her as more than that. After all, she was his chosen heir. Not Sirius, not Rodolphus. Bellatrix. In a cruel twist of fate, one of her closest childhood friends became her captor… and not the one of her choice. Bellatrix had her eyes on another boy, but her youngest sister had been the lucky winner of that hand. With nowhere else to turn, and desperation clawing at her skin, she needed somewhere to go. Anywhere. Even for a day. Bellatrix had disappeared without a word, apparating despite being underage to a nearby village.

48 hours had passed before she appeared at Black Manor, with new thoughts circling in her mind. A mysterious man had invaded her dreams, whispering words of power and freedom that left behind a seed of desire. The offer struck her as an option out, a way to sever her ties with Lestrange, to prove her worth without him. It provided her with a vehicle to protect her sisters, loyalty ensuring their safety.  She had noticed the shifting climate of their world, the persecution of muggles and muggleborns more common with each passing hour. There were inklings of a Dark Lord, an enemy that was colder and more powerful than Gellert Grindelwald. I bring war. The man had said. It was the perfect chance, and Bellatrix, the perfect candidate. She’d been groomed by her father to be the best, already controlling so many of her friends in Hogwarts. A cunning, pureblood with her eyes set on dominating the future. That was the type of person that would thrive and survive the future- and she wasn’t foolish enough to let such an opportunity slip her fingers. Every interaction had a purpose.

Maybe the Dark Lord had seen her potential, reaching out to her personally. She’d looped Lucius into her plans, already recruiting members before the dark mark graced her forearm. They would rise together, lives intertwined despite the recent events that had separated them. Yet as the brand burned into her skin, her ambition pulled her further ahead. Bellatrix was sent to do grunt work only a handful of times, her success in each mission reaching the Dark Lord’s ears. During the Death Eater’s meetings, it was her opinion that was asked to be heard. Over the patriarchs and Knights of Walpurgis. Slowly but surely, they would see each other privately, the Dark Lord serving as a mentor like her father. Each lesson pushed her, but she did not break. Bellatrix’s training was a challenge others would have died trying to complete. When the Dark Lord’s right hand died, a lack of care and skill causing the death, the position was handed to her on a golden platter. And now, Bellatrix was the Dark Lord’s most valuable asset. The unspeakable things that she had done hidden far away from her family. A heavy secret that she had bore with grace.

She watched as her father walked towards the office doors, tension simmering between the two. A soft click set the lock in place. Unusual. Their previous conversation had been closed, and normally, Bellatrix could let out a breath of relief. However, now the stakes were higher. They were no longer discussing her mistakes, but her secrecy. She’d not let one word of her allegiances slip. That would only putting the knowing party in danger, and with the atmosphere at Hogwarts, aurors were looking for anyone to answer for the crimes perpetrated. She knew that her father wouldn’t leave the subject at that. No. There was something more to his inquiry. She straightened up, her fingers pulling at the bandage that adore her arm. A remnant of her mistake with Bones. A silencing charm enclosed the space, still not one word coming from her father. She’d seen him use this tactic before, on the members of Wizengamot. Each time, horror bubbled in the employees, who awaited either a reprimanding or crucifixion. Finally he turned, eyes boring into her skin. She could feel his presence right by the chair, magnetic, powerful. “Bellatrix. Give me your arm.”

Before she had time to react, her body was pulled out of the chair. Bellatrix looked up at her father, a shot of fear running across her face. She felt small in comparison, the infamous Cygnus Black deciding her fate for her yet again. The fabric of her sleeve gruffly brushed against her skin. There were layers of magic keeping the dark mark private, but they wouldn’t be enough if her father wanted the truth. Her features hardened as she watched him reach for his wand, pressing it into the charms. One by one, spells were peeled back and the dark mark came into fruition. It was just as prominent as it had been the first time she got it. The snake recoiled against the skulls, viscous. Had this been the answer Cygnus wanted?

Instead of averting his gaze, she lifted her face. If Bellatrix had been found out by her father, she would not take it lying down. Dark brown met dark brown. She was one of the most dangerous witches, no stranger to death. Whatever expectations had been placed on Bellatrix, she had defied a tenfold. Her father’s heir, the Dark Lord’s prodigy. “Since the truth would put the family in danger.” All of her choices did bubble down to the well being of the Blacks. She’d been raised to do everything for blood. Killing for blood, hurting people so that her sisters, mother and father wouldn’t have to. If the Dark Lord succeeded in the war, the Blacks would be rewarded beyond their wildest dreams. And, their legacy would live for ages to come. Most importantly, they would be utterly untouchable. More so than they already were. Right now, though, such allegiances would lead the ministry on a witch hunt. She’d sealed her lips and mind for them. 

So her father had known all along… but did he really understand what she meant to the cause? Bellatrix leveled her gaze, the words dancing on the tip of her tongue. “What have you heard about the Dark Lord, father?” She repeated the same question asked to her. Was he aware of her position- the highest ranked Death Eater, a wanted murderer. She didn’t believe so.

Cygnus had heard rumors for some time of the Dark Lord’s terrifying general. Oh, the rumors were kept under wraps, but even the most tightly kept secrets had a way of making themselves known to Cygnus. The rumors said that the general was a woman, a woman of youth, one who had defied all expectation. One who defied all convention. The rumors were interesting, of course, but he had not really concerned himself with them. Should they become important later, he would look into them, but for now, there were more pressing things on his plate than any generals. He had not thought of this general in some time, so focused had he been on his daughters, and the family affairs. Rightfully so, of course, as the family affairs were his blood borne duty. But as he watched the unblemished, pale skin of Bellatrix’s forearm slowly become marred with the brand of the Dark Lord, he thought of these rumors again.

At first, he wanted to believe that it was a long shot. How likely was it that Bellatrix had risen through the ranks without ever informing him? His first thought was unlikely. However, the fact that she had enlisted in the ranks at all without him ever hearing a peep was telling. He would have to reconsider some things about the nature of his daughter, and of their relationship together. He had known this day would come, the day that her interests became her own. He had faith in her know, and he didn’t doubt that her personal interests lined up with the family’s, but Bellatrix was truly coming into her own, wasn’t she? If she was willing to join the Dark Lord’s army without so much as a discussion with him, then was it certainly so far fetched that she had risen to stand by his side? After all, he had raised her to be a warrior. Bellatrix was strong, strong enough to take the world by the horns if she so chose. Could she really have already begun to do so?

Yes, she could have. Cygnus had been loathed to admit it, but he supposed it had been his own doing that might have pushed Bellatrix to begin to do things on her own without his guidance. He had seen her face when he had informed her of her betrothal to Rodolphus Lestrange. He had known that she must have felt betrayed, and while he understood why, he wished that she could look past her feelings to see why he had done such a thing. If Cygnus had learned anything, it was that moving through life was a lot smoother, a lot less lonely and cold, if one had an adequate partner by their side. He had been blessed with Druella from an early age, and grown up knowing that she would be the woman by his side. Perhaps that had given them an advantage over their peers, having the lifelong engagement. He could remember sitting next to her at tea, at the tender age of seven, mulling over the idea that one day, far far away, she would become his wife, and he her husband. They had always felt like one because of it, and when the wedding day had happened, it had seemed like the long awaited period, the bit of punctuation to a sentence that his finished a long time ago. 

Cygnus had accomplished great things in his life, but he would not have found it as easy and manageable without his wife by his side. He wanted the same thing for Bellatrix, and he could see the possibilities with Rodolphus. She had wanted Lucius, that much was obvious. The pair of them had been close since children, but Lucius was not the right choice for her. Lucius Malfoy came from an important family, and he could see that Lucius took the mantle of heir seriously. He would be a fine patriarch in his own right, but he was not the wizard Bellatrix was meant to stand beside. Cygnus felt that Lucius lacked the strength to keep up with Bellatrix. He had molded her himself, and turned her into something spectacular. Lucius would fall short, and that would bring anxiety and harm upon them both. Lucius was much, much better suited for Narcissa. It was obvious, looking at the pair of them. They would push and challenge each other in ways that were compatible. The children might not see it now, but a union between Lucius and Narcissa would bring harmony for them both. He believed the same to be true of Rodolphus and Bellatrix.

Rodolphus would help Bellatrix to greatness, while still allowing her to stand one step ahead of him. That was a rare find in a man like Rodolphus. A strong man, heir to a great family. Cygnus had known many like him, himself included, but many of these strong, well-bred men, would expect something from their wives that he knew Bellatrix could not give. He thought of his friend, Adrastos Carrow. He was strong in his own right, terrifying even, but his refusal to look at the strengths he could garner from the women around him would most surely be his downfall one day. Rodolphus would not make that mistake, Cygnus was sure of it. Rodolphus would see the power in Bellatrix, the almost laughably easy way to power would be in her wake. Bellatrix couldn’t see that. She viewed this as a betrayal, or Cygnus believing she wasn’t fit to be heir. Whether or not she believed him, Bellatrix was his heir. His successor in everything but name. Unfortunately, even he could not pass the title of patriarch onto her. That was not the way the world worked. But couldn’t she see that he had given her everything that he could? He had given her the tools to make her own future despite the restrictions placed on her for being a woman. Bellatrix was smart, but she had been woefully obtuse in regards to her betrothal.

Cygnus stared down hard into Bellatrix’s eyes, his own gaze flashing dangerously at the tone in her voice. “The truth is the truth regardless of who knows, Bellatrix. You keeping this from me does not change the truth, it only makes it harder for me to save this family should this had come to light.” Rather than let go of Bellatrix’s arms, he held on tighter, using his fingers to trace against the marking. He felt something like pride begin to prickle in his chest. Again, he did not know if these rumors referred to her, but he had always been intuitive and he was willing to place a few galleons on that being the case. If this were true... then Bellatrix had surpassed his expectations. He wanted to shake his head. Of course she had. His daughter was a ruthless monster when she needed to be, just as he had taught her. 

Of course, before he truly allowed himself to be proud, he would have to first confirm his suspicions. What have you heard about the Dark Lord, father? Cygnus smiled. He dropped her arm, and then stepped back. His cigar was on the ground, and he used his still unsheathed wand to conjure it back into his outstretched hand. Another quick flick and the end was lit again. The smell of smoke began to rise through the room. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, before leveling Bellatrix with another look. “Not as much as you, clearly.” There was no anger in his voice, but rather, amusement. His daughter was one of the Dark Lord’s servants. This had changed everything, and the wheels in his brain began to spin at break neck speed. Oh, this was good. This could be what changes the world, the world where men like Cygnus Black could rightfully rule without push back from their inferiors. “However, I have heard things.” He stepped back further, and moved back around to his side of the desk. Without another word, he sat back down into his seat, and then reached for his glass of wine. No doubt, he would need a refill. He flicked his wand, and the bottle began to top his glass off. He flicked his wand again, and it set itself back on the desk. “I hear of someone who is colloquially referred to as the general. A woman, they say. It’s quite scandalizing, really.” He picked up the glass, smiling slightly again. Really, if his suspicions were correct he would be quite proud. “What do you have to say about that?”

Ted had always enjoyed Prefect rounds. He liked wandering the halls of Hogwarts in the evenings after everyone had gone to bed. It was peaceful. The castle always seemed to be so full of hustle and bustle throughout the day that glimpsing the rare serenity after-hours seemed like a special privilege. He had grown especially spoiled over the past year of Prefect duties because he somehow always managed to be partnered with Andromeda. Not that it was by accident, of course, Ted requested his rounds with her, but he greatly appreciated how the scheduling always worked out in their favor. It was always so much nicer to have someone to talk to as they made their rounds, and the fact that the empty corridors were monitored by no one but them made slipping into empty classrooms and dark corners for quick kisses so much easier.

He tried not to dwell on thoughts of Andromeda. They had quietly agreed that keeping their distance was for the best, not only because their fathers were at Hogwarts for the holidays, but the pressures of the future were weighing down heavily on both of them and they had come to the realization that their secret relationship couldn’t last forever. If one could even call it secret at this point, practically the whole school knew about them by now. The longer their relationship went on, the more people who knew about their feelings, the more danger they put one another in. Finally coming to their senses, they had decided that ending things between them now, though incredibly painful, would be better than a tragedy tearing them apart later. Still, Prefect rounds had become a much more lonely experience without her quiet laughter, witty remarks, or her cool hand in his.

The night had been quiet thus far, Ted had only found three students out of bed. A first-year Slytherin had been looking for their parents’ accommodations and somehow managed to get turned around. Ted had spared them the full lecture on the dangers of wandering the halls at night and had escorted them to the parental accommodations where their mother promised they would spend the rest of the night. He figured the nightmares that drove them from their warm bed and the terror at losing their way in the dark castle would be lesson enough. Ted had honestly expected to find more restless students wandering the halls, unable to sleep after the traumatic attacks on Hogsmeade only days ago, but perhaps the doses of dreamless sleep were doing well to keep them tucked away in bed, free from their nightmares. Ted himself had considered taking a dose the other night just for the chance at some decent rest. The fourth year students Ted had caught in a dark alcove only served as a painful reminder of his own heartache and he had gently scolded the couple before sending them back to bed with a warning. His heart hadn’t been in it, and he knew they could tell. Perhaps that was why they didn’t bother arguing with him when he deducted the minimal amount of house points for their offense.

Nearly finished with his rounds, Ted headed down the last corridor on the second floor. Now he would just have to sweep back across the ground floor, back to the kitchens and head to bed. He was partnered with Narcissa tonight and had left the dungeons to her. Probably not the best idea, but he didn’t much care to wander into enemy territory alone in the dark anyway. Besides, the Aurors were also making rounds and with a yawn, Ted realized just how tired he really was. His exhaustion was pushed to the back of his mind, however, as he noticed the figure at the end of the corridor. His steps slowed, but he didn’t raise his wand. Ted recognized this man, he had been desperate to avoid him since he arrived for the holidays, aware of the cruelty he was capable of both from Edgar and Andromeda’s stories. The fact he knew Ted’s name sent chills down his spine, and he realized that Cygnus Black had been waiting for him. Ted cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, trying to sound polite rather than nervous. “Mr. Black, sir.” He greeted trying to figure out an excuse to not stick around talking to him, but came up empty. “I’m supposed to finish my rounds” he said, gesturing past the man who looked like he was in no rush to let Ted leave “but I can spare a few minutes.”

Cygnus settled a severe gaze over Edward Tonks, staring him down in an effort to find out what was so interesting about him that would make him appealing to Andromeda. Andromeda had always been the black -- or should he say white? -- sheep of the family, but this was a new low, even for her. He had tried to snuff the kindness out of her; it had no place in this world. They were the Blacks, the most ancient and historical of all wizarding families. They couldn’t spare kindness, not if they wanted to retain their family’s status and position. Andromeda never seemed to understand this, and while he had tried to fix it, he hadn’t considered that it would develop into something like this. Kind or not, Andromeda had always been obedient. Whether she had liked it or not, she had followed his rules mostly. How she had fallen so far, he couldn’t say. Perhaps it was his own fault, for not keeping a better eye on her? He would change that.

The mudblood Tonks didn’t seem all that special. He was tall, but skinny looking, and his face resembled that of a weasel. His daughter could do so much better than this. Faulty or not, she deserved so much better than the filth before him, and he would ensure that she was given that, as was his duty as her father. To his credit, the mudblood seemed to understand the seriousness of the current moment. Did he also understand the danger? Did he understand how unsafe he currently was, being in the presence of Cygnus Black, alone and late at night? They might be right under Dumbledore’s nose, but Cygnus Black had his ways. Mr. Black, sir. Cygnus knew the boy was trying to be respectful, but he had never been the type to enjoy listening to the sound of his family name being soiled by the voice of mudblood.

Whether or not the mudblood Tonks meant his words to sound challenging was irrelevant to Cygnus in that moment, for he bristled anyways. But I can spare a few minutes. How foolish. The mudblood Tonks thought he had some say-so in the matter. How funny. Cygnus arched an eyebrow, “You needn’t worry about your rounds.” He said swiftly, “They’re taken care of.” As if something as trivial as Prefect rounds were important. He would inform Lucius to make sure the mudblood’s absence on his rounds didn’t cause any problems. Cygnus tilted his head in the mudblood’s direction, “You and I are going to talk.” Cygnus said shortly. He had phrased this before as a question, though the mudblood would never have been able to refuse. He hoped that by phrasing it in such a way, the mudblood would understand that he wasn’t going to be going anywhere, not until Cygnus said so, at least.

“So.” He voice was clipped, and his lip had curled slightly. He wanted to make the mudblood feel small, “tell me about yourself, Edward.” Despite the disdainful look on his face, Cygnus kept an almost jovial sound in his tone of voice. “I’ve heard lots about you, but I want to hear a bit about you, from you.”

WHO: Cygnus Black and Bellatrix Black, Andromeda Black, Narcissa Black, and Regulus Black WHEN: January 14th, 1978. 5:45PM. WHERE: Cygnus Black’s chambers

The atmosphere was somber in Cygnus Black’s chambers as he awaited the arrival of his daughters and nephew. He had gone around yesterday to personally inform Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa that their presence was required, and he had sent Regulus an owl this morning. He would be leaving tomorrow, bright and early, and there was things that he needed to run by the younger members of his family. Reminders of family, of duty. Times were changing, and the Black family had been attacked. That would not stand, and he needed to remind them of what it meant to be apart of this family.

He glanced over the table, which was set neatly five plates. He’d informed the house elves that he wanted dinner served promptly at 6:15. He had told the children to arrive at 6. There was a knock against the doors of his chambers, and Cygnus plucked his cigarette from his lips so that he might be able to greet whomever it was that had arrived. He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching slightly at the person who stepped inside. 

“You’re early.”

Cygnus had found his two oldest daughters, and had informed them that their presence would be required for dinner tomorrow in his chambers. He would have to find Narcissa now, to inform her of the same. He had avoided his youngest daughter since he had been informed of Druella’s fate, but he steeled himself and forced his feet to walk in the direction he knew her to be.

She had given him the Prefect routes yesterday, so that he could find the mudblood Tonks, but it had also allowed him to find her tonight. Rounds were just beginning, and she was on the first shift near the top of the castle, so he headed to the sixth floor to await her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long to see her blonde hair step around the corner in his direction.

His breath caught in his throat. She looked just like Druella, and the sight pained him. The color of her hair, the arrangement of her facial features. Even the way she moved. He could see his late, cold, and beautiful wife in all of her. It was for this reason that he had avoided her. He wasn’t able to stop the strange, emotion filled look from crossing his face, but he didn’t dwell too much over this. This was Narcissa after all, his darling daffodil. She would forgive him of such a display. “Narcissa,” He called, a strange, almost sad looking expression on his face. “Would you be welcome to my company on your walk?” He asked, arching an eyebrow. The question was for show, since she had no ability to refuse him.

Cygnus had what he liked to call his little informants all over the school. They were typically first and second years, children of some of his employees and fellow high society members. He had asked the network of them to locate his daughter, Bellatrix, and promptly thirty minutes after he had sent out the request, a young first year Slytherin tentatively approached Cygnus to let him know that she had been found in the library. He thanked the girl, and promised her that he would let her parents know of her good service, and then headed off in that direction.

He cast a look at Madam Pince when he walked in. He couldn’t believe that old bat was still here. She had been younger looking when he was a student, but she seemed to be getting on in her years. She nodded in acknowledgement, and he returned the gesture, before starting to move down the rows in search of his eldest child. He found her near the back, a few books in front of her on the table. Slightly curious, he sat down beside her. “What are you reading about?” He asked.

Cygnus had not yet found time to visit the Slytherin Common Room. Had he been a more sentimental man, he would have visited upon his arrival, but, he was not. However, he would be leaving soon, returning to his old life. -- Or, a new life? Without Druella waiting for him, he could not quite call it his old life. -- He had a few more loose ends to tie up, starting first with Andromeda. So, that was how Cygnus Black found himself stepping foot into his old stomping grounds. He’d been given the password upon his arrival, and he utilized it for the first time, watching impassively as the sliding stone panel slid open to reveal the dark, green, and damp feeling room of his youth.

Andromeda was inside, just as he had heard she would be, and he headed straight towards. He stepped around the couch, looking down to her where she sat. 

“Andromeda.” He said in greeting, taking a seat in the armchair across from her.