Chapter Text
Modus Vivendi
Chapter Eight
Dramatis Personae
the masks of the drama
(Friday the 31th of July, 1987. The Ballroom, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England.)
Limelight.
The blinding gaze of public attention.
It had never been something that Evelyn had ever craved to have in her life, this one or the one Before because she had been perfectly content to remain hidden away in the shadows. It was where she was most comfortable being, after all. However, her love for her little brother was far more powerful than her want for comfort, so when Harry had found himself quickly swarmed by people soon after the birthday celebrations had begun, she couldn’t rightfully leave him in their clutches.
Especially in the clutches of children who had been raised on the ideals that people without pure blood were less. She knew her brother. The night would have quickly turned around as Harry laid into those that dared to voice those ideals in his presence, and they needed the night to go well.
It was her job as the oldest to protect him, so she had done just that.
Thus why she had found herself in the situation she was currently in, and although it wasn’t exactly how she had originally planned for things to go, well… what better way of introducing herself properly to the wizarding world than by knocking the most pompous of them off their feet and onto their rich arses?
The Lv.:14-Quest [Heir of Slytherin] seemed to agree with her.
It had also raised a few questions about where exactly in the Slytherin family tree her family had come in. She knew a certain someone who shouldn’t be named that would most definitely kick up a fuss if she proved to be the rightful heir in place of him, but she could deal with that at a later date, as right now, there was more peacocking that needed to be done.
Evelyn looked out at the group of pureblood children who had gathered around in front of her from underneath her lashes, as they stared back in varying expressions of awe-struck. The reasoning behind said awe wound herself around the young witch’s shoulders, the glimmering lights from the overhanging chandeliers reflecting off keeled scales, illuminating the rich greens and blues, the vibrant purple pupils that watched them all without breaking gaze.
It had only been too easy for her to get Cassiopeia to agree to show off as she was as, as her name suggested, Evelyn’s familiar was vain.
“What did she say?”
Evelyn almost hadn’t recognised the boy with the huge eyes who had asked before, looking back and forth between her and her familiar, but she had recognised the girl that hovered in his shadow from pictures that Narcissa Malfoy—Aunt Cissy—had forced her to examine weeks before when she had first arrived at Malfoy Manor. She had had to learn who everyone was, after all, never mind the fact that she had also been learning about a part of both of her fathers’ sides of the family at the same time.
Not that James Potter had ever thought anyone bar Sirius Black as family from the Black family.
Evelyn had already gone through the family tree with Aunt Andromeda, learnt who was related to her and whatnot. But the rest of the wizarding world had still needed to be identified and there were now so many different names and faces locked in her mind. She would never forget them, no matter how much she might wish to.
An heir and a spare.
That was a mentality that a lot of pure-blooded families adopted.
Pansy Parkinson was the spare while her younger brother was the heir, the way most pureblood families preferred it, the spare being a female that they could use in marriage contacts to obtain more leverage in the wizarding world. More power. The Black family had done it best, marrying into many other powerful families.
The children before Evelyn—and she said children, but really, most of them were around her age or older, but reincarnation was a funny thing to measure—weren’t the only ones staring at the show that she was putting on.
From all around her, she could feel the piercing gazes that were focused in her direction. The crowd that had once been surrounding Harry had dispersed to instead surround her and her twin had quickly plastered himself to their father’s side after Evelyn had gestured in his direction when Harry had first begun to move towards her.
He was so very protective of her, after all, but Evelyn hoped to keep her brother’s parseltongue abilities a secret. She didn’t want anyone to think him dark. Evelyn thought him too light for that, her little starlight, a childhood nickname that still brought out the pink in her brother’s cheeks.
There was amusement sparkling in Sirius’ eyes.
Evelyn could also see that same amusement reflected in her great-grandfather’s eyes and well, it had been Arcturus Black’s plan from the beginning. To show the rest of the pureblood families how much better and superior the Black family were, even if Evelyn was only a half-blood born of a muggleborn. It had only been too amusing to see him say muggleborn instead of mudblood; the world twisting around in his mouth like it was a disgusting thing instead of the truly disgusting thing that he had wanted to say.
He had to play nice with her, however, the one that had been picked as Sirius’ heir and the one with all the little gifts. Not that anyone knew of all her gifts. She still had aces up her sleeves that she would never reveal to anyone because she didn’t want to. She had let her seer ability become known because it wasn’t accurate, and she couldn’t be blamed if something went wrong because… she didn’t know it all.
At least, to their knowledge.
So no, Evelyn would never reveal her true nature as someone who had been reborn into a fictional world that she knew almost everything about, nor would she ever reveal that she saw the entire world as one giant roleplaying game that gave her an unfair advantage over everyone else.
She had to live in this world, after all, and no-one played fair when it was their own life on the line.
There was also pride in Arcturus’ eyes, not for Evelyn per se, but rather that the parseltongue ability had shown up in the Black lineage. He hadn’t accepted that it had come from Lily Evans’ blood and had instead deluded himself into thinking that it had instead come from James Potter’s and while Evelyn had gotten other things from her biological father, her ability to speak to snakes that hadn’t come from him and she refused to let anyone attempt to push her mother further through the mud.
Her mother who had performed dark magic to protect her children, her mother who had refused to step down or move aside.
Evelyn was proud to be the daughter of Lily Evans.
She wore her half-blood status with pride. It wasn’t something she was ashamed of or wished to hide. She was her mother’s daughter. Anyone that tried to tell her differently would find themselves in a world of hurt because Evelyn did not take kindly to anyone disregarding those who were hers.
The older generation of pureblood families that had shown up were all quietly speaking to each other in hushed voices, as they looked at her from the corners of their eyes. She could only imagine all the marriage contracts that would soon begin flooding in for her hand for their sons. If they thought that any of them would be accepted, they didn’t know who they were dealing with in the slightest and would most definitely be in for another shocking turn of events.
After all, only Evelyn could decide what become of any sort of love life she might have, not a piece of paper, nor the words that would one day appear on her arm like a branding. Her soulmate would also be in for a shock if they thought that the words meant anything at all to her, the girl from another reality where soulmates hadn’t been a thing or if they thought the words meant that Evelyn belonged to them.
She belonged to no-one, after all, but herself and death.
“That one looks inbred.”
Evelyn hid her amusement as she ran her fingers alongside Cassiopeia’s jawline, as her eyes momentarily flickered over to the boy in question, to Vincent Crabbe, who looked nothing at all like his movie or book counterparts. The Crabbe line had—much like many other pureblood families—bred within the lines, and he had suffered for it.
Her father hadn’t, as Sirius Black was one of the most handsome wizards Evelyn knew of, and not even the fact that he was in a happy, loving relationship with her uncle had stopped the flood of marriage contracts that he often took out while in the living room to laugh over. Most didn’t acknowledge the relationship, and those that did… well, it wasn’t uncommon for purebloods to have what others deemed pieces on the side.
“I agree, but I can’t rightly say that to them.”
“I want my cousin.”
Evelyn blinked at the words spoken like a child demanding their toys back. She then turned her attention back to the group who had been pushed aside slightly as a small figure of blonde hair had pushed his way through, a small figure that Evelyn knew to be her cousin. Draco Malfoy.
He had been very quick to claim Evelyn as his own before the pair had even met. It had been quite the first interaction between the two cousins when Evelyn had first stepped foot on the Malfoy property.
“Hello, Draco.”
He flushed slightly, and Evelyn was once again reminded of how much he was still a child. He hadn’t grown up into the bully he would just yet. There were moments of it, but overall, he was still a child. They all were. Before Evelyn, there were Slytherins that she knew would become Death Eaters. She couldn’t fault them for that; however, they were still children simply following their parent’s orders.
Most children did that.
She and Harry listened to their father, Harry more so than Evelyn, but they listened all the same.
Draco moved forward and snagged her hand, pulling sharply as he moved away from the group. Or tried to, at least. Evelyn planted her feet and smiled slightly as he staggered at the unmoved force she was. Her Strength was far too high for Draco to move her unwillingly.
“Don’t be rude, Draco,” Evelyn said displeasingly.
He eyed her out of the corner of his eye, and she could see the slight sneer that was beginning to grow on his face. A sneer he would almost master later. Still, he listened, however, refusing to release her hand as he stood at her side in front of the group.
Evelyn looked over her shoulder slightly, where Harry was glaring in Draco’s direction. Their first interaction hadn’t gone well, much like it hadn’t in the books or movies. This time however it had been due to her, over both boys claiming her as their own. Evelyn had felt much like a toy as both of her arms had been pulled at different ends, as the older generation of her family had simply watched.
Sirius had even laughed under his breath, his smile widening as she had glared at him because he had found the entire interaction amusing.
In the end, she had put a stop to it. She belonged to no-one but herself. No-one could claim her as their own, but the closest one with a claim on her with her twin. Because he was her twin, her other half, her one constant in the world.
Harry had puffed up after that, and Draco had sulked all day.
Sometime afterwards she had wondered if that was how her mother had felt. First with her sister and her best friend, and then after that, with her best friend and the boy who had had a crush on her. A toy being pulled at both ends.
Evelyn was a bit of a hypocrite, however.
No-one could claim that she was theirs, but she had done the same to others. Claimed them as hers, that is. Her brother. Her father. Her aunt and uncles. Dora. They were hers and she was protective of them something furiously, like a mother protecting her cubs, an alpha protecting their pack.
Draco couldn’t move her because she hadn’t wanted to move. She needed to continue the show, needed eyes focused on her so that they weren’t focused on them. Evelyn could shoulder all the harsh looks and cruel words that had been thrown at her brother in the books and the movies when his parseltongue abilities had been revealed to the world.
She would prove that he was still alive when everyone called her brother crazy.
She would prevent the deaths that had consumed her family.
Evelyn would carry the weight of the world on her shoulders so that they didn’t have to, she would take their places so that they wouldn’t be hurt. She didn’t know why she had been brought back from death, why she had been reborn, but she refused to put her second life to waste.
That was just who she was.
“Cassiopeia said—”