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Ascension-16
🕑 Added 2022-07-11 18:29:17 +0000 UTC“Master Harry,” a tiny, bright voice trilled as Miraya appeared in their room, her head bowed and her hands clasped together, “Master Arcturus be calling you downstairs.”
“I will be there as soon as Persephone gets ready,” he nodded at the house-elf, before turning back to the book in his lap as she popped away, “Hey Seph! He is calling us to the hall, could you hurry up?”
“I am doing as fast as I can,” she shouted back from the bathroom, “You try taking care of hair this long after years of third-grade treatment.”
“Whatever,” he said back, turning the page and looking at the picture of a Ukrainian Ironbelly, “Just do it quickly, we don’t want to be late. He might just be a little more brutal in the spellwork today.”
“Almost done, just a minute more,” Persephone answered as the door to the bathroom opened and she walked out in a bathrobe, her cheeks flushed and her crimson hair completely soaked, “What are you reading?”
“A book on different dragons found in Europe,” he answered, raising his eyes off the book as she dropped the towel and started to wear her undergarments, “Do you know the largest Ukrainian Ironbelly ever recorded was over three hundred and ninety feet long?”
“Yes, Tracey told me about it one day when we saw a painting of it in the corridors,” she nodded, putting on a skirt and a blouse before using her wand to dry off her hair, “Okay, I am done, Let’s go.”
“Do you remember what date it is today?” he said as they exited their room, their heads lowered to avoid the stares of the long-dead Blacks that lived in the paintings around them, “Today is the day Lord Greengrass invited us to his manor.”
“Mhm,” she nodded, intertwining her fingers through his as they started to move down the staircase, “Dou you know what spell Grandfather is going to teach us next, Protego or Ossis Confractus.”
“Protego definitely,” Harry answered, running a hand through Persephone’s lush hair, “Merlin, those products have really done wonders for your hair…at least now you won’t need me to sort out those knots and comb your hair.”
“Well, I’d still make you do it,” she smiled, internally rolling her eyes at the momentary downcast look that had appeared on his face. As if she’d let him be free of her for a single extra moment, “From now, I am not going to use my wand for my hair if I can help it, instead, you will dry it, comb it and shampoo it every time.”
“Oh,” he blinked at her words, before a wide grin broke out on his face and he nodded brightly, “No problem Seph!”
Giggling at the smile on his face, she nodded back and they continued their walk in silence, descending until they reached the ground floor. However, as they reached the doors of the hall, they stopped for a moment as they heard a woman’s voice along with Arcturus’. Surprised and bewildered regarding who would visit his castle, especially when their grandfather—and wasn’t that still a weird thought?—had made the fact that he was disliked as much as them perfectly clear.
Walking into the dining room, Persephone and Harry both blinked as they saw not one, but two women sitting at the table. One was on the direct right of Arcturus, her black hair streaked with a little grey and bound in a bun while the other…was quite a familiar face. Seated at the two places down to Lord Black’s place was none other than the very first witch they had met, Narcissa Malfoy.
However, the prim and proper, seemingly untouchable woman was nowhere to be found today…as the wife of one of the most powerful men in Britain, and the mother of Draco Malfoy looked like death had warmed over. While the other two occupants of the table chatted warmly and ate breakfast, she sat silently and just stared down at her plate.
However, the reason for it became somewhat clear as they came near the table, and saw the sight which had been blocked by Arcturus’ back. Placed right in front of Narcissa’s plate, was a head of a house-elf, its dark black blood pooled around its severed neck and a knife embedded in its skull. Its eyes were towards the blond woman, and now that they were closer, they could also see the decapitated body lying just beside the head.
What in the name of Merlin was going on?
Sharing a look with him, Persephone cleared her throat so that someone would finally say something—there was no way Arcturus or the woman to his right were still ignorant of their presence. “Oh Persephone,” the man smiled as he turned to look at them, “You both are here. Good, good. Come, take your seats…I hope you don't mind the decor this morning.”
Considering that he had eviscerated a man’s insides years ago while melting another’s flesh and blood off his bones, he really didn’t—besides, the blood seemed to be somehow contained in Narcissa’s personal space only. Sitting at the direct left of Arcturus, Harry watched the only stranger on the table, who in turn was watching him.
“You were right Arcturus,” she commented, “He does look like our nephew, though, it is tempered by that redhead’s features.”
“Harry, Persephone,” their grandfather said, making their eyes snap to him as he nodded his head towards the newcomer, “Meet Cassiopeia Black, my other younger sister…and your Grand-aunt.”
“Oh shut up Arcturus, I can introduce myself,” she shook her head at him, before she looked at Persephone and blinked for a few moments, “Damn. You weren’t kidding when you said she looked like Dorea and Lily fucked together.”
“I didn’t use those words,” Arcturus scowled, his fingers curling together for a moment before he sighed, “I apologize for my sister’s crassness, Harry and Persephone. She has been away from Britain for quite a few decades…and it has certainly done no favors for her already frayed mind.”
“I am not Bellatrix you know, I can hold off your attacks,” she snorted and then pointed her fork at Narcissa, “or not like this one too, bending over for a trifle of galleons while her family got destroyed.“
“Uh…should we be here?” Persephone interrupted, looking at anywhere but the two Blacks, “This looks like it should be private.”
“Nonsense.” Arcturus waved his hand, “You both are family, and some people better understand it if they want to be treated the same way.”
Narcissa gasped at that besides them, and from what Harry could tell, even Cassieopeia was caught off guard by the words given hos her eyes momentarily snapped to him. However, before he could begin to make some sense of what was going on around them, Arcturus stood up adn walked towards the fireplace, staring at the large painting hanging above it.
“Do you know Persephone, Harry, that Narcissa is my granddaughter?”
“Yes,” he nodded, “Draco told us that he was your heir, and that meant his mother must have been a Black…and we had already met Lady Malfoy by then. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots.”
“Indeed…tell me Persephone, about Draco Lucius Malfoy. And I want the truth.”
“Don’t worry child,” Cassiopeia softly said as Persephone's eyes flicked over Narcissa, “She won’t do anything. At least, not after what happened today. Now, tell us about Draco Malfoy in detail, will you? And don’t tell us about his talent in potions and charms, we know about those already.”
“He is…loud,” she started, “He is arrogant, and proud of his father’s name and power. He also hates it when someone does better than him, especially if it is a muggle-born or a half-blood.”
“His attitude towards his friends?” Arcturus asked, still facing away from them.
“He…is cordial towards Pansy, but with Crabbe and Goyle, it feels as if they are just his bodyguards, who just follow him around,” Harry spoke up, chancing a look at Narcissa, only to see no change in her expression, “And he is quite vocal about how Headmaster Dumbledore has let the school degrade, letting Giants and squibs work in the presence of their betters.”
“Sounds like the perfect Slytherin and the Heir of Blacks,” Cassiopeia laughed, “Doesn’t he, Narcissa?”
“No…Grandaunt” she spoke for the first time today, her voice nothing like the regal, confident one they had first heard her talk in. No, instead, it was trembling, defeated…and so reminiscent of how their voices had been under the Dursleys that for a moment Harry thou-
“No,” Arcturus whispered, breaking him from his thoughts as he turned around and stalked back to the table, “No? Is that what you are telling me Narcissa? That your son is not all that your husband proclaimed him to be in the letter I received? That he is not this charming, charismatic, and intelligent boy you lauded him to be?! Which is it Narcissa?!”
“He isn’t any of them,” she whispered out, her hands still clutching the table as she raised her eyes towards Cassiopeia, “I never knew he would do something like this…You have to believe me, Grandaunt, If I’d known he was planning this I would have told you about it!”
“Get out Narcissa,” she scoffed, her grey eyes turning a little black as she nodded towards the floo, “and don’t you dare show your face until Arcturus or I invite you.”
They both watched in silence as she nodded silently and got up from the table, her eyes never leaving the bulging eyes of the house-elf before her. She lingered for a moment, and Harry felt Narcissa stare a hole into his head before she turned around and walked away.
“Now that she is gone,” Cassiopeia began, cutting into her bacon as she turned towards her brother, “do you want to tell me why I walked into what had nearly been Narcissa’s murder?”
“In a moment,” he answered, sitting down in his seat once again, “But first, meet the Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, Harry James Potter, and his twin sister, Persephone Dorea Potter .”
“Wait?!” Harry almost shouted as he stood up from the chair, and Persephone was just a second behind as she too jumped to her feet, “I am the older one between us?!”
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“Want to tell me now?” Cassieopie asked as soon as Harry and Persephone were out of the room, flicking her wand to erect silencing wards all around their table, “Don’t get me wrong, it was nice to meet them, and tell them a little about their Grandmother…but Narcissa clearly did something that you didn't want them to know, otherwise you wouldn’t have distracted them and sent them away. This means Lucius did something that you don’t want the world to know. Spill it out Arcturus, what did the rat do now?”
“He tried to murder me,” he snapped, shutting her up for a few moments as the words sank into her brain, “That fucking blond shitstain of a wizard tried to murder me, in my own home…and as much as I hate Lucius, I must applaud the brilliance of his plan. If it weren’t for the twins’ presence in the castle, I would have been dead without a doubt.”
Her bored look disappeared in an instant at that as she frowned worriedly, looking at the decapitated house elf in front of her. This was a lot more serious than what she had assumed the matter to be. When she had flooed in to the shouts of Arcturus as he had raged over Narcissa, she had expected that Lucius and Narcissa had appealed for their son to be legally declared as the Heir, or for an announcement to be made in the Wizengamot regarding the same.
“How the hell did they get Kreacher to do the deed then?” she muttered. While Kreacher had been a rabid, mad little thing even back in the day of their father, his loyalty to the Blacks had been unquestionable. “Imperius? No, the wards would have turned him immobile as soon as he appeared inside them.”
“No,” he shook his head, “It was not that simple. It all started right on the night of Voldemort’s defeat. Sirius had been in the townhouse that night, for some reason or the other, and as usual, he and Walburga had a big row. She called on Kreacher to banish him, but invoking his right as the Heir…Sirius told Kreacher “Get out of my way and never return to this bitch.”
“And he went to Narcissa?” she asked, looking down at the barely-there, blood-soaked rags covering his body, “Or to Bellatrix?”
“To Bellatrix, because according to him she was the epitome of what a Black should be,” he snarled, clenching his fist as he glared at Kreacher’s head, and she closed her eyes as with a wet, squelching sound, the elf’s head was destroyed. “And she told him to go to Narcissa, where Lucius got hold of him.”
“But as mad as Kreacher i-was, how in the name of Merlin did Lucius order him?”
“Through the speck of Druella Black’s blood that flows in him,” he snorted, actually surprised by the memories he had seen in Kreacher’s mind, “and by stomping the fact into Kreacher’s mind that as the regent of the proper Heir of House Black, and as the husband of one of its proper daughters, he was responsible for House Black too.”
“Being a proper pureblood and the favorite of Walburga certainly helped in that,” she remarked, staring with disgust at the remains of Kreacher’s head, “I told you decades ago to kill this elf before his rotten brain and fanaticism towards Walburga became a problem.”
“Yes well I hadn't thought this would happen!” he scoffed, flicking his hand towards the mess on the table and burning it all away, “Anyways, when I brought the twins here, I had erected wards to keep track of Scylla, their pet python. Imagine my surprise when the wards last night alerted me of another snake inside Kástro Mávros…right on this very chair.”
“Why didn’t the elves here stop Kreacher? And forget the elves even, the wards themselves should have transported Kreacher right to the dungeons along with the creature he was bringing.” she said, deciding to ignore the pet python for a moment, “I doubt you changed the wards in any way or form since the days I used to live here.”
“It wasn’t the wards that were lacking, or even the elves that slacked in their vigilance,” he grumbled, flicking his wand and summoning a glass box to his hands, “It was this little thing.”
“No fucking way,” Cassiopeia gasped, her wand flashing in her hand with the tip already shining a malevolent, bright green, “WHY THE FUCK IS THAT THING NOT DEAD YET?!”
“Because,” Arcturus grinned darkly, his eyes turning into pools of black as his magic exploded out of him, creating a tangible, physical pressure for a moment that shredded away the table into nothing but splinters. “This thing is going to kill him. Not tomorrow, not even the next year—but at the moment when he least expects it. I will destroy his House, his vaults, his manor…and this little thing will finally end that miserable, overreaching, pretentious little shit. Lucius Abraxas Malfoy will die screaming and begging for relief as his own money becomes the end of him.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Uh…Grandfather?” Persephone quietly said as she and Harry walked into the room, finding Arcturus and Cassieopia sitting together as they turned through the pages of…an album? Stopping for a moment, she debated on whether to approach him or not, especially because she could see the tears in their eyes as they looked through the pictur-
“Come in, come in,” he said, waving a hand towards the couch in front of him, “Is it about Lord Greengrass’ invitation to you both?”
“You know about it?” Harry asked, surprised as he looked at the letter in his hands…one that hadn’t gone anywhere from his trunk. Had Arcturus gone through their th-
“He sent me a letter yesterday,” he interrupted, already knowing the thoughts that were going through the children’s heads, “Asking permission for you both to visit his manor tonight.”
“You both are friends with his daughter?” Cassiopeia asked, raising her eyes from the album for the first time, “Merlin Harry. Scoring outstandings across the studies, proficient in all wanded subjects, and now a friendship good enough with the most eligible heiress in the country for the father to invite you to his house?”
While Harry wasn’t too knowledgeable about the various things adults got upto—like that pair of adults who had shook a whole car nearby the Thames were doing inside it—he certainly didn’t miss the insinuation made by Cassiopeia. Blushing a bit at her words, he looked down uncomfortably as Persephone giggled next to him, pulling him forwards to the couch.
“Yes Grand-Aunt,” she nodded, taking the letter from his hands and giving it to her, “We wanted to ask you if we were allowed to go to the Greengrass manor tonight.”
“You are,” Arcturus nodded, closing the album and placing it at his side as he stood up. Walking over to the window, he looked out at the grounds and said, “I have not met Artemis Greengrass in many years, but he was a sharp-minded boy when I saw him last. While I doubt that he would do anything serious, do take care of what you say in his manor, and how you say it—because his house elves will always be there, invisible, but keeping watch on you at every moment.”
“Now that you have gotten the permission,” Cassieopieia clapped once and stood up, smiling at them as she waved her hand and pushed the furniture around them a little back. “You should know the basics of courtesy when meeting with Lord and a Lady, and the hierarchy of Britain’s Magical Houses.”
“Daphne taught us about it,” Harry spoke up, making Cassieopeia blink in surprise. That had been the original reason behind why the Greengrass Heiress had approached them, A favor for a favor. “And she also told us about the different houses and their status based on their history and financial power.”
“Then you know,” she said, taking a step forwards and looking both of them in the eyes, “If you want to change your social and economic conditions, you must prove your worth in Lord Greengrass’ eyes. He is not a fool to invite his daughter’s friends over to manor personally. That man wants to see what you both are made of…and if there is any benefit in his daughter’s continued association with you.”
“Your house was amongst the richest Houses in the British Territories,” Arcturus interjected, leaning forwards to stare at them with his heavy, stone grey eyes, “But Augusta and the Ministry took it all away from you. While I don’t pity your father in any way, you and your mother were greatly wronged, and I regret that I had been present to do my duty as your family—but this…will be your first step, amongst the thousands you have to take if you want to take back everything that is yours.”
Both of them gulped at the serious expression on their elders' faces, and Harry felt goosebumps arise on his hands and neck as a series of memories flashed through his brain. The nights when he and Persephone had to stay hungry inside the cupboard, sometimes bleeding, many times broken. The sorting they had undergone, filled with curses and death wishes from all over the Great hall as the teachers had simply watched, not interfering even though he was sure it had been against basic humanity itself.
Or the way he and his sister had been attacked on their very first day, him at the hands of those who hated his parents for their blood and political leaning, while his sister at the hands of those who despised their name for betraying their Saviour. How Augusta Longbottom adn the Minister himself had come to the castle to ensure their arrest and subsequent throwing into Azkaban. The looks and whispers that had followed them every moment in Hogwarts, from the first step into the Great Hall to the last step out of it.
Even the single time they had wanted to stay out of others’ affairs had not been enough, with the two boys ambushing his sister on Halloween and taking her away from him. Even when they had taken that troll down, the fingers pointed at them had only increased, each one accusing them of being dark wizards and spawns of Death Eaters.
While he didn’t have any family pride or love for his name, because to him it was nothing btu a curse his father had left for them…Harry had every intention of repaying everyone’s taunts and insults back. Tenfold.
And if it meant that he had to take a thousand steps for it, then he would take a thousand and one.
He was going to learn everything Arcturus and Cassiepai had to teach them, and make the older man's words about the ‘world-shaking spectacle’ come true in such a manner…that none will be able to stop their Ascension.
