Chapter Text
Modus Vivendi
Chapter Seven
Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum
if you want peace, prepare for war
(Thursday the 17th of March, 1987. Brewing Room, The Basement, 12 Grimmauld Place, Islington, London, England.)
Chalk dust drifted to the cold stone floor as Evelyn’s arm moved from side to side across the large chalkboard before her, her hand moving in a blur as she rapidly wrote out equations for the latest project she had begun working on. Her long, long hair swayed with her movements in the low ponytail she had thrown it in to keep it out of her face, out of her way.
It reminded her of how she had been Before, when she had been far too busy and poor to have her hair cut, too inexperienced to cut it herself, and so she had simply allowed it to grow, and grow, and grow until it became so long that she began to sit on it. This time around, however, as money wasn’t something her family was short on, it was instead due to pureblood nonsense. It was unbefitting for a lady to have short hair, after all, and she had to play the part of pureblood regardless of her actual half-blood status.
She was the future Heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, after all.
Hold her head high. No slouching. Mind her manners and her words and remember to use the correct spoon at the dinner table. Understand the hereditary of the family. Arcturus Black the Third was the head of the family and his word was law. Sirius came after him as his heir and Evelyn was below them both but above everyone else in the family as Sirius’ heir. Etiquette lessons were long and tiresome, but she kept silent and pushed through so that Harry could slouch, so that he could continue being simply Harry.
She stepped back slightly, her arm hovering in mid-air as she took a moment to read through her work, carefully looking through her equations for mistakes, for somewhere where she might have gone wrong as even one tiny little mistake could prove itself fatal. She needed everything to be perfect before she even began experimenting.
It had been two years since the twins had moved into Grimmauld Place.
It had been only a year since the twins had been blood adopted by Sirius, where they had become his children more than would be possible with simple muggle adoption papers. It hadn’t been a tradition blood adoption, where Sirius’ blood would have completely replaced that of James Potter’s but instead, it had been… mixed. According to the paternal lineage spells performed on the twins after the potion and ritual had been completed, they now biologically had two fathers while Lily Evans remained their only mother.
The entire ordeal had made Evelyn’s head spin as she had attempted to work it all out, her memories of blood adoption in the fanon mixing with the smallest amount of information on its inner workings she had managed to pry from Sirius’ tightly sewn mouth and the few ingredients in the potion she had managed to observe.
Harry hadn’t quite understood it, nor did he really care. He had just been simply overjoyed at the thought of having two fathers and his yell of surprise the morning after had had Evelyn racing from her bed to his room, only to discover it had been a cry of surprise and excitement. Her little brother no longer needed glasses to see, after all.
There hadn’t been much difference in the twins' appearances after the adoption, other than Harry’s suddenly crystal-clear vision. They had already had Black blood running through their veins, after all, due to their grandmother being Dorea Black in this canon and fanon mixed world.
But now, Sirius was also their father, and that added a layer of protection against anyone who would be stupid enough to try and take the twins away from him. Or more so, take Harry away as he was still the Boy-Who-Lived while Evelyn was… well, not the Girl-Who-Lived. She wasn’t much of anything, really, in the eyes of the public. Not yet anyway.
Killing curse eyes moved across the chalkboard and her arm rose, chalk in hand as she stepped forward once again to continue with her equations. It was advanced work. Very advanced. Most definitely not something that she should be working on at the tender age of six and a half, but here she was, hidden away in the brewing room of Grimmauld Place’s basement, with chalkboard after chalkboard of equations. No-one had ever called Evelyn normal, after all, even before it had become her name.
What did they expect really, when her Before namesake had been an overpowered redheaded witch and Lily Evans had been a fiery redheaded witch?
She needed to get this right.
No.
She had to get this right.
Evelyn turned away from the chalkboard and moved towards the large island counter in the middle of the room, where sat her brass cauldron and all the ingredients she needed to brew the potion tenfold. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that she would get it right the first time around, as her [Potion Brewing] skill still had many levels left to go through before it was maxed out at which point she would never fail a potion no matter how difficult it was.
As it was, she had recently managed to get it to Lv.: 42—the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Soon enough she would become a Master Potioneer that would put even Severus Snape to shame. Spy or not, she still didn’t like the man. Couldn’t excuse what he had done and what he would do. He was a difficult character—person—to label, but Evelyn was firm with her belief that if her mother had never died, then he would have never switched sides. His love for her mother wasn’t healthy, nor did she believe that he deserved that love.
She would be getting that picture of her mother back, as well, and it still made her blood boil and her hair shift to fiery red when she thought of the man ripping a part of her family picture, happy and in love, in half so that he could pretend that her mother was smiling at him.
Aunt Cassiopeia repeatedly reminded her that she needed better control on her metamorphmagus abilities as for it not to expose how she felt inside. The same grandaunt who had only been too pleased to find that Evelyn had named her familiar after her. Or rather her namesake, but the witch Cassiopeia still liked to say the snake Cassiopeia was named after her.
And if she saw him bullying her brother or Neville at Hogwarts, she would make him pay teacher or not. Both boys were hers. Neville was all shyness and nerves rolled up into a ball of cinnamon, and she had been so glad when Augusta Longbottom had brought him over to introduce to the twins. Alice Longbottom was still Evelyn’s godmother, after all.
“Why am I not surprised to find you locked up in here, little snake?”
Evelyn didn’t react much to the sudden voice, as she had felt the magical signature moving closer and closer to the basement for the last minute or so, but she did pause what she was doing, the recently sharpened blade in her hand hovering ever so slightly above the ingredients she had been chopping up. Even if she had been startled and managed to cut herself with the knife, her health regeneration was currently sat at .16 and the cut would have disappeared before she had even had a chance to blink.
She glanced over her shoulder, turning towards the door.
“Good afternoon, Aunt Andromeda.”
Her potions teacher smiled at her, affection warming the healer’s smile as she moved into the room before then stopping before the chalkboards that covered the wall and were filled with Evelyn’s equations and work. The witch turned back to prepping the ingredients that she needed to brew the first attempt of the potion.
“You seem to have somewhat figured out wolfsbane potion by reversing the process.”
Andromeda Tonks née Black’s voice and mannerisms betrayed none of what she felt inside, but Evelyn knew her aunt. There was surprise and pride. Andromeda had been the only one to teach the twins potions, after all, with Remus Lupin taking up most of the other lessons they needed to learn. A few other relatives were sprinkled in elsewhere. Always a relative and never a stranger. None of the Black family trusted outsiders to teach the twins anything.
Remus had mentioned he was an outsider, but Sirius had simply scoffed in amusement and called him a kept man. The pair had begun dating in their third year, after all. Wolfstar burnt bright in this world. Evelyn couldn’t see Nymphadora birthing his son at all, not when she too had seen him as Sirius’ boyfriend for months now.
“I did, but I’m no doubt missing steps.”
“And why are you making wolfsbane potion, little snake?”
Evelyn almost rolled her eyes but instead settled for raising a single eyebrow at her aunt. Ladies didn’t roll their eyes. “There is a room down the hall covered in claw marks, where there are magically reinforced shackles bolted into the wall.” She moved her crushed aconite to one side. “I know that we have that room not because Papa and Uncle Remus enjoy getting rough now and again, just as I know why the week around a full moon Harry and I stay with you, Uncle Edward and Dora.”
While Harry had chosen to call Sirius dad, Evelyn had decided on Papa. For Padfoot. Dadfoot, in a sense.
Andromeda laughed and her uncanny resemblance to Bellatrix Lestrange—who Evelyn had thankfully only seen in old pictures her aunt hadn’t been able to get rid of and newspapers the witch had managed to obtain through her budding relationship with Kreacher—became less and less.
“I did tell Sirius that they would not be able to hide anything from you.”
Evelyn smiled in amusement. With both [Observe] and her seer abilities at her disposal, there wasn’t much at all that her family could keep from her. Add on top of that already great advantage she also had her [Eidetic Memory] thus making it impossible for her to forget anything that she had ever seen or heard.
“The potion will help if I can figure out how to make it properly,” Evelyn then replied. “Uncle Remus shouldn’t have to worry that he will accidentally hurt us. That blame, if something were to happen, should be placed on the shoulders of Fenrir Greyback but I don’t think that monster would care.”
“No,” her aunt agreed, “I cannot see him caring, either.” She looked over Evelyn’s equations once again before then turning around to face her, a proudful smile etched across her face. “I think you are on the right track, little snake. Now, speaking of snakes, where is your lovely familiar?”
“Out hunting for food in the gardens.”
“I had hoped to get a chance to milk her again while I am here.”
Evelyn laughed as she remembered the last time Andromeda had milked Cassiopeia. Her familiar had hated the entire experience and had sulked around the house for an entire week afterwards. She hadn’t thought it fitting for someone of her beauty to be used in such a way. Cassiopeia had quite the personality, after all.
“How is Polaris?” she instead asked, referring to the beautiful granian foal her aunt had brought her last year for her sixth birthday. Evelyn had originally thought of calling her Equuleus as she had been an extremely undersized foal when the witch had first met her but had instead decided on Polaris for her snowy white coat. The Black naming theme had always been one that appealed to her inner astrologist, after all, so on the tradition continued.
Her family had been quick to realise that Evelyn also loved animals of all shapes and sizes. There were many animal books in her bedroom, books about both magical and non-magical animals. Everyone fully expected her to become a Magizoologist after attending Hogwarts and Sirius had no problem with allowing her to have as many pets as she wanted, as long as she took care of them, which was… dangerous.
Evelyn, after all, had no self-control when it came to animals.
There were currently six pets under her care after she had taken responsibility for a nest of four baby puffskeins after finding them under the living room sofa. Then there was also the kneazle kitten that her Grandmother Augusta had brought her as a Christmas present and who she had named Leonis, more as a combination of Leo and Felis, than the genitive of Leo.
“She is growing well and soon she will be strong enough to allow you to ride her.”
“Good. I can’t wait to ride her. I imagine winged horses will be the only way I’ll be able to fly. I hate brooms, much to Harry and Papa’s horror.”
Andromeda shook her head with a laugh and Evelyn smiled in amusement as she recalled the dropped jaws the men had displayed once she had dropped that particular bombshell. Much like in canon, Harry simply adored flying. Every single free moment he had throughout the day was spent outside in the gardens, learning new tricks on the broom Sirius and Remus had brought him for his birthday. With his obsession with gold, it was no wonder that once her brother was old enough, he would become an unstoppable seeker.
“Are you ready for your birthday, little snake?”
Evelyn hummed. “Yes. It will be… different, of course, but I understand that is it something that needs to be done. Harry doesn’t understand quite as much, but he knows that it will be different from last year’s birthday. Being introduced back into the wizarding world as we will be.”
“I imagine that Harry will not wander much from either Sirius’ or your side,” Andromeda replied.
“Probably not.”
It was definitely something that had been constantly lingering in the back of her mind. The twins’ seventh birthday party which would be unexpectedly held at Malfoy Manor. They hadn’t even met their second cousin Narcissa nor her death-eater husband. Evelyn was worried about how Harry would react to Draco, but she imagined something similar to book canon.
The entire party was all a pureblood chessboard game, however.
She imagined that a good majority of the purebloods that would be at the manor would be hoping that one or both of the twins found their soulmates there. Having the Black family attached to their own would only boost their own families. The Potter family also had many advantages to it, like the twins’ great-grandfather Fleamont’s booming potion business.
Her attention flickered over to her aunt, as she glanced at the messy handwriting that was sprawled across the inside of the older witch’s arm, partly visible for all to see as the sleeves of Andromeda’s blouse cut off mid-forearm. Another difference from Rowling’s world. It was looking more and more like only the foundations of the world had been kept the same as everyone else Evelyn found had proven itself to be different.
She stared at the first words her uncle had ever said to her aunt and the flowery imaginary that framed it.
No-one had ever once mentioned soulmates to the twins before, but considering they had been living in the ‘care’ of the Dursleys, she hadn’t expected to learn much at all from them. Her aunt and her husband had never taught the twins anything, but that they had to be normal and ordinary, and plain. Evelyn had been quick to shut that all down. Without her, Harry wouldn’t have even known what his name was until he began to attend school.
After her eleventh birthday, her soulmark would suddenly appear somewhere on her body. There were different types of soulmates, of course, but almost everyone had one. It was rare not to. More often people had an unrequited mark, where they had their soulmates words written on them, but their soulmate didn’t, in turn, have their words written on them.
Evelyn thought it crueller than simply not waking up with one.
But, then again, just because a bunch of words told someone that they had to be with that person, didn’t, in turn, mean that they did. Andromeda and the witch Cassiopeia had said as much when the two women had sat the twins down to explain everything about soulmates, as Sirius had fled when they had originally asked him.
With her low Luck, Evelyn could only imagine who her soulmate would turn out to be.
She really did need to figure out how to increase it, but, if it hadn’t increased by the time the twins’ letters arrived, she would most definitely shove some stat points into it. It had become a rule of hers, to not touch the points she had saved up until her stat level reached past a hundred or she desperately needed the stats for an action or spell that needed to be performed.