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Chapter Text

Kreacher hissed and clutched his chest as a searing pain cleaved his heart in two.

’’No. No, not again…’’ he whimpered, rendered motionless while his dread reached new and ridiculous heights.

He felt the rupture of the bond like a physical wound. His magic raged and wailed at the unfairness he was dealt with again.

He gulped down his fright as blinding, silent tears slid down his sallow cheeks, seemingly unstoppable.

He was a proud house elf, the trustworthy elf of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

He never showed emotion, bar contempt and disgust, in front of worthless wizards, ever adept at stirring their ire and pointing out their shortcomings acerbically.

Mayhap he grinned inside, but he did not let it surface.

It had been years since he’d known either the ability or the want to show any cheerful sentiments.

On any given day anger, disinterest, and annoyance were among the most often used expressions. Those emotions were known and comfortable and revealed no weakness.

They kept him safe, and in so many regards they helped him remember...

However, this gut-wrenching agony tore down his pride, shredded his sanity, and drowned his very being under the weight of his plight.

He lost his dear Master Regulus years ago and the wound was still fresh, forever seeping droplets of anger, shame, and self-loathing.

He was weakened once by the sour taste of regret. He failed his Master and had not loved him enough to either keep him away from Voldemort and his ilk or see him rescued.

His wrath propelled him and allowed him to carry on. He thrust aside such frailty deep down in his heart and devoted the rest of his days to keeping the Noble Black name alive and clear Master Regulus’ name.

He managed to survive thanks to his will and his resolution to see his Master’s truth revealed and his name cleared.

Surprisingly, Sirius Black, the ungrateful child, managed to do something good before he joined the rest of the family on the other side. He left the Ladyship to his estimable goddaughter and his miserable life took another turn.

He loved her truly. She was kind and brave and powerful, virtues his previous masters revered.

She was more than what met the naked eye and his empathetic elven magic felt the dark power simmering under her skin, waiting for a way out.

But…

Why was he fated to relieve the loss again?

Why did he have to suffer endlessly?

Without losing another moment, he ran as fast as his short legs could carry him, ignoring the curses and hexes flying above.

When he reached the gate, he closed his eyes tightly and balled his small hands into fists.

He called to the remnants of her signature, trying to pinpoint her location. His magic cried in desperation when he felt a bit of hers.

He disappeared right away, hoping against hope to find her before it was too late.

His heart dropped to his feet when he saw her in Hagrid’s arms, definitely not moving.

Kreacher crashed onto his knees as his throat closed up.

Clamping his lips, meaning to show not even an ounce of his current fright by way of his quivering lips, he felt helpless for the first time since Master Regulus’ demise.

At last, he became alone and no one could save him anymore...

His head bowed, and Kreacher pulled himself to his feet.

It wasn’t over.

He didn’t survive all these years to lose everything to the monster who destroyed his life over and over again.

There must be something, anything he could do.

He raised his head for a fleeting moment and glanced up.

He blinked away his tears, entranced by the moonlight. He didn’t register the cries and curses and the battle raging inside Hogwarts’ walls anymore.

His Mistress was gone, why should he care about the rest of the useless, tawdry fools fighting for something so meaningless?

As the fading link almost disappeared, Kreacher renewed his resolution and closed off his core around the last bit of his Mistress’ signature.

He wouldn’t let go, never.

Spurned into swift action, he tugged with all his might for he would either find a way or die trying.

He exerted more force in his struggle against whoever was taking her away and dwindling her existence.

Sweat covered his face despite the chilly night and he patently ignored the shaking of his hands as he exhausted his core to its limits and way beyond.

House Elves were much more capable of wielding advanced magic than wizards, their own brand of wandless magic was peerless and as a Senior Elf and a member of the Noble Black family, Kreacher was a master of his craft.

He wouldn’t lose, not again, not again, not again….

His vision started getting hazy and clarity became elusive but Kreacher spared no effort to give the last bit of his life energy.

Thus, the notable elf felt some of the tension leave him for he could not fathom a more honorable ending.

While he fell to the floor in a heap, a nasty smile distorted his blue lips. Fate might have played with him for years, taking everyone he held dear, but Kreacher would die as a Black elf, proud, forever faithful to his Masters.

His last thought before darkness claimed him was:’Now, I’ll join Master Regulus and Mistress Hespera.'

--

“You’re a bothersome fellow, aren’t you Elf?” Kreacher’s eyelids twitched, revealing bulbous brown eyes as the scratchy voice sighed mockingly.

He rose slowly, making sure to hide his weakness, and gasped at the sight that greeted him.

House Elves weren’t only stronger, they were more sensitive to magic and able to discern when they were in the presence of otherworldly power, a Deity.

Despite his frailness, he bowed until his pointed nose grazed the gleaming white marble.

“Your Reverence, Your Highness…” he stuttered almost unintelligible for the choking fragility of his voice.

Death snorted. ”Be at ease little Elf. I am not here to torture you.”

When he closed his eyes and breathed out, Death added. ’’And if you really held me on a high pedestal, you should have died in peace and gifted me your soul. Did you have to fight me till the last bit of magic you got in your mortal body?”

Kreacher opened his mouth to speak and his breath was released so that the words came out wispy. ’’I know I should apologize for going against Mother Magic's teachings and fighting the Deities' verdict. Yet, I can’t. I shall not lie in your presence.”

A chuckle that sounded more like a hiss came from under the pitch-black cloak. “And I applaud you for your honesty Elf. Your previous Masters taught you well.”

Kreacher gulped, averting his gaze, and shuddered as he felt an ice-cold finger touch his naked chest. ”I see your heart Kreacher son of Tally. All that you seek is your Masters' company. Despite my twin’s games, you remained true, you remained loyal, you remained devoted.”

Kreacher’s heartbeat tripled in time, and he was fairly certain Death must feel his racing pulse in his hand. He clamped his lips and a muscle ticked in his cheek fighting the tears.

He gave enough today, and now he would join his precious Masters and enjoy eternal bliss. The time for sorrow was over; he should celebrate the end of his suffering.

“That’s why I will recompense you. But not in the way you are thinking.” Death’s voice was definitely smug if someone could decipher some nuances from the frigid tone.

He curled his fingers into a fist and waited for the next words to either enliven him or kill all his hopes.

“You will join your cherished Masters, yet not in the way you think. I will give you another chance, something I sorely do but…”

Death stopped and he felt his penetrating gaze despite the abyss that was his face.

“You will take care of my Mistress and ensure her comfort. You will stay by her side no matter what, always steadfast and true. Your only Mistress from this day on is Lady Hespera Peverell.”

Kreacher gasped, but the sound was lost as Death’s chuckles reverberated in the vast, scarce, painfully white room.

Chapter Text

1950- 12, Grimmauld Place

‘’Come in.’’

Orion Black heard his father’s words and muttered under his breath. ''Let the mayhem begin.’’

Lord Arcturus Sirius Black was a great wizard yet he was also a bit domineering. Well…very domineering when it came to those he loved. He showed no compunction about manipulating them into doing what he thought was best.

It was not one of his most charming attributes. And if Orion was to dwell on his faults, he would also have to admit that his dear father had an annoying belief in his own infallibility.

He knew he meant well and yearned to revive their family’s name and bring back its past glory. He was admittedly obsessed with the Black Magical Gifts and dreamed of Black witches and wizards who were either Necromancers, Seers, Metamorphamagi, or…Natural Animagi.

His father was very charismatic, he oozed the aura of a leader but Orion wasn’t appreciating his main traits at the moment.

Since his grandfather choose to pass his Lordship to his eldest son and spend the rest of his days appreciating the simple things in life with his grandmother Hester Gamp Black, Arcturus embraced his role wholeheartedly, and gone was the playful father he remembered from his early childhood.

He knew he loved him and his sister dearly, otherwise, his mother would’ve poisoned him years ago, but House Black always came first to him.

It was what brought this scuffle.

Arcturus glanced up from his work and his alert grey eyes surveyed him. Leaning back in his chair at his approach, he laced his fingers together and rested them above his desk.

“Orion.”

Orion wanted to snort. At the age of fifty-one, Arcturus was as devious as ever. He swore that his father knew the reason behind this meeting, nevertheless still opted to fake ignorance.

Orion responded with a derisive half-smile and bowed slightly. ”Father. I hope I’m not interrupting your work.”

Arcturus made a faint scoffing sound. ’’My work is endless son, something you’ll learn when you’ll take care of everything.”

Orion took a seat and faced his father. Staring blankly into his too-sharp eyes, he started. ”Father, is there no way out of this betrothal? You know Walburga, she’s not the most pleasant of witches. I know I must take a wife and ensure the continuity of our name, but why her? Even though she’s older, I can’t help but notice how childish and annoying she is.”

Arcturus sighed and his mouth twisted impatiently. Orion knew his father’s feelings about the topic, but he couldn’t help himself.

Not Walburga, Merlin’s Mercy not her.

Arcturus replied grimly as he inspected his hands. ’’Orion, you may feel that I’m heartless and uncaring but believe me, I’m doing all this for you …and the family.”

Orion gritted his teeth in frustration.

His father must have seen his expression for he took a deep breath and continued. ”I know that your cousin is not the best option, but she’s a Black. I still hold hope that one day she’ll see the wrong in her ways and come into her own. Then, there’s your Uncle Pollux. You know about the grudge he holds. If we refuse his proposal, I’m not sure we’ll be able to mend the rift that started with your great-grandfather Phineas.”

Orion barely kept himself from yelling at the injustice. It wasn’t his fault that his father felt the need to make it up to his uncle’s family, that Phineas Nigellus favored his grandfather and ignited Cygnus’ jealousy, a jealousy his son inherited.

His uncle Cygnus was a bitter and petty wizard. Anyone could see the greatness in his grandfather, Sirius Black II. It was only natural that Phineas would groom him to take the mantle after him.

The man was heartless; he banished Marius for being a squib and pestered Cassiopeia until she left. It had been years since anyone heard a word from her.

Even Dorea didn’t have good relations with her family, being married to a Light wizard and a Potter at that.

Knowing that his efforts were futile, his chest closed around a deep stab of betrayal. He stood up slowly and looked into his father’s darker eyes. ’’I will rest for a bit, I believe I need some time alone.”

His father heaved an exasperated sigh and he wanted so badly to mimic him. Supper this evening was going to be a heavy affair. It was a prelude to the official betrothal party.

With a slight bow, he left the office hurriedly and almost bumped into his mother.

“Orion…” Melania said gently, but he was not feeling talkative after the discussion he concluded a moment ago.

“Please Mother, not now.” He begged her with his eyes to let him be.

Melania raised her hand and caressed his bristled jaw, her silver-blue eyes filled with kindness. ”I know Orion, I know, son. I merely wanted to tell you that Alphard is waiting for you. Tally showed him to your room.”

Orion took his mother’s hand and kissed her fingers tenderly. She smiled faintly before her lips tightened.

Furrowing her brows and reminding him of the strong woman lurking behind her perfect facade, she said darkly. ”I wish I can help. I swear to Merlin I will find a way to help you. Don’t give up, you are a Black, and Blacks never go down without a fight.”

As always, his mother never failed to make him feel better. He gazed into her compassionate eyes and leaned, kissing her forehead.

His features softened as he nodded. “I’d better not keep Alphard waiting. I wonder what prompted this visit.’’ Orion wondered and Melania grinned.

“I hope he brings some delightful news. Sometimes I marvel at the fact that he’s Walburga and Cygnus’ brother, that young man is a delight.”

Orion couldn’t agree more. Alphard, who was two years his senior, was the closest thing he had to a brother.

Melania headed toward his father’s office and he took the stairs languidly, trying to clear his mind before he confronted his cousin.

He didn’t want to take his anger and resentment on him, nor did he want to burden him knowing what his life was like.

He was boundlessly pestered by Pollux to take a suitable wife and start producing children; he even suspected that his crafty uncle had his eyes on his older sister, Lucretia.

Thankfully Aphard harbored no such thoughts. He considered Lucretia an older sister and a dear friend.

He found him reclining on his bed, skimming through a potion journal.

His cousin was a prodigy in the subject, something he kept to himself fearing that his father would twist his talent and try to exploit the only thing he enjoyed, turning it into something he might loathe.

His mother swore that he inherited his uncle Regulus’ genius in potions but he wasn’t sure as his Uncle's talent was unrivaled.

Alphard aspired to take advantage of his skill and build a life for himself, far away from his family’s perniciousness. Orion intended to help his cousin as much as he could for he could not stand his Uncle Pollux’ behavior anymore.

He gave Alphard a fake sullen look and the latter responded with a sardonic lift of one brow, his grey eyes swirling with mirth. He was as always impeccably dressed. However, his thick black hair was wind-tousled, and he was rather in need of a shave.

“Orion,” he started and he detected the hesitation in his voice.

Orion slumped into a chair and faced him. ”No need for that look Alphard, we knew this was coming.”

Alphard closed his journal slowly and pushed away from the plush cushions. ”It doesn’t make it better. I feel no shame in confessing that my dear sister is a nightmare, a harpy I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

Tensing, Orion looked down examining his hands. His nerves tingled with awareness as he gave free rein to the anger simmering under his skin.

It had been days since he felt restless as if something of great importance was on the verge of happening.

His gaze sharpened and he shook his head, fighting the urge to give himself fully to the creature inside.

“How is it going with your little experiment?” Alphard asked warily.

He shrugged, a careless gesture none other than his most trusted were allowed to witness. ’’I feel closer every day. I reckon I should be thankful to Uncle Pollux and Walburga for the anger is what brought about this splendid surprise.”

Alphard snorted. ”I highly recommend the opposite. You know how greedy my father is. If what we suspect is true, he’ll never let you go.”

Orion countered, bitter with the awareness of his own limitations. ”Do you still think there is a way out? We’re just hours away from my eternal doom. Uncle Pollux will never give up on the opportunity of making your dear sister the next Lady Black.”

“You never know. There’s still hope Orion.” Alphard said in a low voice.

Tally interrupted their conversation as she brought some tea and biscuits.

“Where’s Kreacher?” Orion wondered.

Tally was his father’s personal elf. She was grooming her son to become his own once he got married. She glanced at him uncertainly and her face turned sad. ”Tally doesn’t know why but Kreacher is not feeling well today.”

Orion’s brows furrowed. ”Something ails him? Do you think we should ask Mother to take a look?”

Tally shook her head frantically. ”No! Tally wouldn’t dare bother Mistress Melania. Kreacher’s body is fine, Tally took a look. It’s his magic Master Orion, something is wrong but Kreacher will be fine in no time.”

Orion sighed at the elf’s stubbornness. Her long stay with his father must have rubbed on her.

“Alright. But if he doesn’t recover soon, just tell Mother. You know she’s good with Healing spells.”

Tally nodded and popped away hurriedly.

Alphard snorted. ”You’re even kind to house elves. Why cousin, I believe Walburga will be thrilled.”

“As if I care.” He said grumpily, “The only thing I like about your sister is her absence from my life, no offense meant.”

“And none is taken.” Alphard winked as he began to stand. “I shall leave. I just wanted to make sure that you’re ready or as ready as possible considering what awaits you. I’ll pray for a miracle Ori, just don’t give up.”

Orion smiled reluctantly and followed Alphard to the fireplace. “Take care Alph and don’t give up either. You know I’m always here for you.”

Alphard clasped his shoulder and nodded before he left.

Orion dragged his feet back to the spot his cousin evacuated and looked at his hands, his frown twisting into a dark grin.

He raised his hand and muttered under his breath, detecting the moment the Privacy Wards enclosed his room. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his parents, quite the opposite; he just needed to be certain before he announced his discovery.

He closed his eyes in concentration and unclasped all the shields he set around his core, making sure that no one learned of the depth of his power.

Pure Dark magic invaded his veins and he relished in the heady feeling of invincibility.

The bones of his left hand twisted as silky dark fur covered what was smooth skin just a moment ago. Razor-sharp claws replaced his well-groomed nails and he shivered from the strain.

Groaning he sagged against the headboard and everything went back to normal.

He felt drained, a recurrence that accompanied the partial transformation. But he wouldn’t give up not now that he could almost taste his victory.

He knew he was on the verge of unveiling something great, something his father had always longed for, and he wouldn’t let his bitterness hold him back.

Like his father, Orion wasn’t the type to vaunt and run his mouth carelessly. He was partial to keeping his secrets, and his resources, close to his chest.

Only Alphard was aware of his possible gift and it was because he witnessed the first time his beast made an appearance.

Feeling exhausted, Orion closed his eyes. It would be good to rest for a while.

The tugging and twisting required to bring forth the magic nestled in the depth of his core, plus the turbulent thoughts that had consumed him for days, made him feel bone-weary.

Mayhap, like his mother and cousin said, everything would get better later.

--

Orion’s sleep was restless and filled with strange illusions.

He dreamed of Avada Kedavra green eyes peering at him from under thick dark eyelashes with rapt attention. He saw himself running his hands through luscious, thick black locks, his fingers tingling from the feeling of the Dark magic coating the silky stands.

But most of all, his heart ached as he experienced a feeling of elation he had never known of before, the feeling of his magic buzzing with excitement and completion while it grazed against the unknown witch’s.

He dreamed of himself disheveled and relaxed for once, his head lying on her lap as her soft fingers brushed tantalizingly and soothingly over his face.

Orion longed for that dream with utter desperation. He wanted to live that moment for real and find that overwhelming gratification.

However, a voice kept reminding him that it was but a dream, a chimera his desperate mind weaved in an attempt to give him a reprieve from his disappointing actuality.

Unfortunately, Tally chose that moment to sweep back into his room proudly holding a pair of expensive silk robes for him to choose from in preparation for the evening.

Orion forced his eyelids open and promptly regretted the action as the last of his dream became lost to him.

He sighed and inspected the new robes but instead of getting ready, he started pacing his room feeling like a caged griffin. The noose felt tight around his neck and for the first time since he recalled, Heir Orion Arcturus Black was helpless.

He didn’t want to get engaged for Merlin's sake, certainly not to his vile cousin. Obviously, they were a mismatch.

Walburga was a spoiled brat with a nasty temper; he couldn’t even entertain the idea of spending the rest of his life with her.

He couldn’t help but think of all the witches who wanted to get a contract with him over the years. Since he was thirteen, beautiful and well endowed, magically and physically girls would have done anything short of murder to please him and secure the title of the next Lady Black.

He had been far too busy with his studies to consider offering for any of them. And now, through a combination of a well-set trap; playing on his father’s guilt and good timing, he would end up wedded to a socially awkward creature with unsavory behavior and an obstinate temperament.

Sighing at his plight, he sat on the edge of his bed and started running his fingers through his hair.

Born as the Black Heir was a heavy burden, something he came to resent. He was the envy of every wizard in Magical Britain, but in times like these, he hated his legacy.

Why wasn’t he the son of a poor family like the Weasleys or even a Halfblood? He would’ve been afforded this entire headache.

He remembered his mother’s words when he started taking his Heir lessons. She advised him to endure and persevere and even gave him glimpses of his father’s past struggles.

It seemed that the Black Title was a burden his family was saddled with for all eternity. He wondered when this curse would be lifted

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud pop and then a crash.

Incredulously he glanced up and his eyes widened as they found a girl curled on the carpet sobbing brokenly.

He shook his head in disbelief and his annoyance turned into puzzlement at the sight that greeted him.

Merlin’s Mercy, it seemed he hadn’t seen the last of this thrice-cursed day yet.

Chapter Text

1998 - Hogwarts

Hespera folded her hands together serenely in front of herself while tears blinded her.

The gleaming silver of the pensive was bright against the sudden pallor of her face as she made sure not to stumble.

“My dear girl…” she heard Dumbledore’s whisper coming from his portrait and felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

Little sparks emanated from the tips of her fingers as she faced him.

“You knew all along?” she said to the man who ruined her life, letting the words come out as a low and dangerous snarl.

“I…It was for the great…” Dumbledore stammered and she growled. “If you finish that sentence I’ll burn your bloody painting.” Hespera closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to hide the storm wreaking havoc in her mind.

“I’ll do it but not for your greater good, absolutely not. I’ll let Riddle kill me because I believe that Wizarding Britain still has good witches and wizards who deserve a second chance. I’ll do it because I can’t survive the knowledge that a piece of Riddle lives in me. I’ll do it because I’m tired. Riddle, the Ministry, and your treachery ruined my life and took everything I hold dear. I’m done Dumbledore and I pray to Mother Magic that if reincarnation is real, our paths will never cross again.”

With that last bit, Hespera pushed one hand behind her and lifted the handle. She gave Dumbledore one last bitter look before she slipped outside.

Once the door was closed, she leaned her head against the cool wood and exhaled a rush of breath. Her clenched hands, white-knuckled around Draco Malfoy’s wand, shook so vehemently it startled her.

“I’ll make sure that you’ll pay Dumbledore, you ruined everything,” she whispered mechanically, repeating the words like a mantra.

‘’Why I am surprised? I should’ve known all along.” She harrumphed, though she managed to make it sound fairly sarcastic. “So... to Voldemort we go.” And, having that settled in her mind, Hespera took her cloak out and draped it over her body.

She was suffused with anger and resignation, a part of her clawing inside, seeking retaliation. However, she knew that she didn’t have time for her personal grudges.

Hermione, Ron and Neville would take care of Nagini and Voldemort. Without his precious Horcruxes, he was vulnerable.

The fool was already so far gone he didn’t even register the fact that numerous parts of his soul were no more.

She made her way to the Great Hall carefully avoiding getting noticed. She took one last look at Hogwarts' fighters and sadness filled her heart. They deserved a second chance, they deserved to live and start over.

As for her, she was done with this life.

Her story was but a mournful dirge, a hollow chapter she didn’t want to be a part of anymore. Maybe she could find the happiness she had always sought in the afterlife.

Voldemort’s minions were garrisoned outside the school and she knew it was only a matter of time before they attacked.

Even her death wouldn’t stop his madness, only his destruction could rid the world of his evil.

Outside, there was nothing but darkness as far as the eye could see. Hespera shuddered but kept walking. She could feel Voldemort’s presence nearby.

When she was sure that she couldn’t advance without being noticed, she took out the snitch from her pocket and put her lips over the words that damned her life.

‘I open at the close.’

The Resurrection Stone gleamed in the darkness as it hovered in front of her entranced eyes.

Assaulted by the subdued whispers of thousands of long-lost souls, Hespera shook her head and whispered with a stricken voice:’’Come to me...”

Her words were uttered, coming from the deep reassesses of her soul, yet she couldn’t prevent the gape-jawed look she assumed as three ghosts appeared in front of her.

Shock could not convey the depth of her emotions.

Her parents and Sirius were looking at her with pity-filled eyes and she couldn’t hold her tears anymore.

“Mum, Dad…Siri…” she mumbled hoarsely and was rewarded only a heartbeat later as the three ghosts surrounded her, their coldness giving her a kind of warmth she hadn't encountered before.

Lily Potter moved purposefully, her eyes piercing and focused on her. ’’You are so brave Hespera, you endured so much during your short life. I’m sorry I left you alone. I wish I was there to protect you when you needed me.”

Lily let her head drop down and Hespera rushed to retort. ’’No! I don’t blame you Mum. It was your love that saved me. I…I don’t blame you or Dad, it was never your fault.”

James cleared his throat and smiled faintly. ”I know you don’t know much about us but I want to remind you that we had always loved you, Hespera. Even restricted by Death, you never left our thoughts. You were and you’ll always remain our dear Prongslet, our one, and only Hespera.”

Hespera couldn’t muffle her sob. James raised a hand as if he intended to comfort her but dropped it immediately when he recalled his limitations.

“You know, it was my Aunt Dorea who named you. You were born in the evening hence Hespera, the evening star. She believed that you will be the one to unite the two families and I wanted to honor Sirius, my brother, and your godfather.’’ James’ words trailed and her greedy eyes sought the one she couldn’t forget about.

How sweet had been the scent of his robes as he hugged her lovingly in his arms, how overwrought her joy at the sight of him smiling kindly, it was simple and unpretentious and as clear as a spotless blue sky.

A full minute passed in which she did not move, only let his presence warm her and adore her. It might be her last chance at filling her heart and her soul with his memory, but she didn't care. Seeing him even for a fleeting moment was all that she needed before she put an end to her story.

Hespera bit her lip unable to resist the urge to move closer, telling herself she needed to hear as well as see more.

“Pup…” Sirius said with a barely discernible thick voice.

“Siri, I’m sorry I …” she offered breathlessly, her chest lifting and falling.

“Shhh, please say no more Pup. I never blamed you for what took place in the Ministry and I would do it again if it means you’d be safe. I wish I’d taken you away from this forsaken country when I had the chance. Why do we have to sacrifice you? Look at you! You’re still a child, a pup, my pup.” By the end, she wasn’t sure if he was trying to reason with her or with himself, but he was unable to keep the harshness from his voice.

Hespera shook her head and her lips wobbled as she stated. ’’I cant and you know it. Call it my saving people thing like Hermione says or my Potter luck but I can’t handle the guilt of dooming Wizarding Britain to a fate worse than death if I don’t fulfill the prophecy.”

When she remained stalwart in her decision, Sirius growled low his anger and snapped with heat. ”I swear to Merlin I’ll make them pay, Dumbledore, Riddle, and everyone who hurt you. Only if I get a second chance…”

“Sirius...” Lily interrupted her friend gently. ”Don’t add to Hespera’s burden. She knows and understands your feelings.”

Lily turned and gave her a single nod. ”We’ll be there with you all along the way. Have faith Hespera and never despair, good people are always paid for their deeds and you’re the best, my dear.”

“Of course, she’s the best, she’s a Potter!” James inserted cheerfully and she knew that he wanted desperately to hide his grief. It seemed she inherited that habit from her father.

A maze of tangled emotions rose within her, not least of all a great happiness for her loved ones’ presence. But then, Hespera entertained hope…hope that she might find happiness even if the price was her demise.

“Please, stay close,” her eyes begged as she let go of the words conveying her fear.

Lily, James, and Sirius’ expressions became solemn as they nodded and followed silently.

--

‘Avada Kedavra’

Whatever the words Voldemort snarled with glee, Hespera neither saw nor felt the curse coming at her.

She didn’t get time to react, to scream, or to struggle; she accepted her fate with a calmness she wasn’t aware she possessed. She was so quiet, so serene, and had shown not a whit of worry or fear.

She welcomed Death like a true Potter.

Time was frozen, as was the furrowed forehead of the monster watching her for the space of a second until she dropped to the ground.

The last thing Hespera saw before darkness took hold of her, was her parents and Sirius’ wet, ghostly cheeks.

When she opened her eyes, she got her first look at the spacious bare room she was in. A thick white mist made the view blurry and she barely discerned a thing.

Shivering from the cold, she hugged her arms around herself and blushed when her hands came upon her naked skin.

’'Don’t they respect dignity in the afterlife?” Hespera murmured sullenly.

She gasped when she was covered by long, silk-white robes at once. Sighing in delight, her eyes scrutinized the room but she found nothing bar an endless, white void.

“Hespera Potter, finally we meet,” a toneless voice startled her.

Hespera turned instantly to address the speaker. She shuddered as she beheld a tall figure wearing hooded pitch-black robes. She couldn’t make out any features on what was supposed to be his face.

Darkness clung to him like a shadow and gave the impression that he was floating rather than standing.

“Who are you?” she blurted, her curiosity eclipsing her wariness.

The otherworldly being, who could never pass for a human, stated in a matter-of-fact voice. ’’I am Death.’’

Hespera’s heart lost a beat before she nodded and drew in a deep and settling breath. ”So I am dead indeed.”

Trying to mask her disappointment, she blinked several times, before she asked slowly:’’Can you take me to my parents and Siri, please?”

At last, she would have the family she had always wanted: her parents, Remus, Tonks and most importantly Sirius.

She loved her family dearly but…

Sirius was the first adult that took her under his wing and showed her the meaning of parental love.

She had never been wanted or protected until she met her dear godfather. And even though their time together was cut short and filled with darkness and grief, he was the father of her heart; no one could take his place.

She knew that James and Lily were her biological parents but all her life, they were but an idea, an escape from her hollow reality, something she yearned for but couldn’t have.

She only understood the meaning of family when she met Siri. It was the reason why his death devastated her the most and shattered her soul. Even after these years, she couldn’t forgive herself and move on.

Now, she would have it all: she would meet her real parents and get to know them and she would have her Siri, forever.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise; no more Voldemort, no more deaths and pain and loss…

Finally, she was free.

“Hespera Potter, you are not dead. You still have a choice. The curse killed the Horcrux but your soul is still intact. Furthermore, you collected my three gifts. I know you are aware of the Peverell brothers’ tale.”

Hespera regarded Death with wide eyes, a storm brewing in her mind. ’’I’m not dead? And what does the Peverells’ story have to do with all this?” She managed not to stammer, which was a feat considering her confusion.

Death approached her soundlessly and she battled the need to take a step back. ”Hespera Potter, you are Ignotus’ last descendant, the rightful Heiress of the Peverell family. I know you heard the partially true tale; you are now The Mistress of Death. The choice was always between you and Tom Riddle, but he abused his power and dared to challenge me. It doesn’t mean that you can order me around, but for uniting my trinkets without seeking power or glory, you are my chosen. You have two options; you can continue your destined path and destroy the Horcruxes fulfilling your duty as my chosen and ensuring peace and prosperity or you can pass the Gate of No Return and spend eternity with your loved ones.”

Awash in boatloads of indecision, Hespera tipped her head back and looked into the abyss that was Death’s face. She had always wanted to have a choice; it was her heart’s dearest wish. All her life, she was told what to do.

Yet now, she was conflicted…

To go back and have her revenge on those who slighted her and destroyed her life, or to join her family and let go of her past.

Her pride stomped along calling for blood. She had been silenced for too long. She was abused and belittled and spurned more than once.

‘A true Potter ’ her father said a while ago, only if he saw her begging for scraps.

Her awakened Potter temper shoveled coil on the fire of her bitterness and she knew which path she would follow.

Wearily, with watery green eyes, she mumbled almost unintelligible for the choking fragility of her voice. ”If I go back, I won’t be able to meet them again, right?’’

Death surprised her as he offered, with no small amount of amusement, making her question her hearing. ”There is a way. You don’t have to go back to the moment you were killed.”

She could go back, she could meet her parents and Remus and Sirius…

She could have the father of her heart again.

“I want to go back,” she said in a steady voice, decision made, ’’I want to meet them all and have Sirius by my side. I’ll fulfill your mission and collect the Horcruxes.”

Death raised his hand and traced her scar with a bony, ice-cold finger. She felt a flutter in the place he touched.”I’ll take you back. I see your soul Hespera and I know your heart's dearest wish. I’ll make you happy my chosen. Sirius Black won’t suffer again; you’ll take care of him as he did with you. Good luck Hespera Peverell.” His body flickered and he started disintegrating.

’’Wait!” Hespera cried, ‘’but I am Hespera Potter! Where are you taking me? What will happen now? Will I see you again?” she asked further.

After a length of grim and stiff silence, Death’s voice was a scratchy whisper as he elaborated. ’’Hespera Potter died on the forest floor. You are from now on Lady Hespera Peverell. You will have the life you had always yearned for. I will give you the family you deserve and I know the one who can help you. Don’t forget to collect the Horcruxes. Until we meet again, my chosen.”

Finally, the gravity of what she did took its toll.

She chose the unknown, leaving her friends and all that she was familiar with behind.

Hespera’s knees buckled and she hit the floor sobbing brokenly

She felt a gentle tug at her core and couldn’t care enough to raise.

Keeping up her head in the wake of what just transpired was as fatiguing as the weight of the truths that were revealed that day.

When she heard the deep voice filled with contempt, she could swear she heard it before.

Lifting her head slowly and eyeing her surroundings carefully she wanted to laugh and cry at once. Nothing had changed, she thought drastically, yet everything seemed different and …alive.

She blinked several times but couldn’t take her eyes off his face.

She whispered the first name that came to mind ’Sirius’ even though she knew he was not.

Even if she hadn’t seen his picture before, she had never seen her Sirius this lively, this healthy, and good-looking despite the uncanny resemblance between the two wizards.

Orion Arcturus Black was breathtaking.

He was a bit intimidating with his icy demeanor, raven silky hair, and trademark silver-grey eyes. He looked like a fallen angel, replete with all the dangerous male beauty that Lucifer could devise. It occurred to her that such a man would be a fitting ally and companion for what she had in mind.

Death wasn’t playing around when he promised her a second chance when he proclaimed he recognized her heart’s deepest wish.

The echoes of her thoughts gave her instant relief.

Rising from where she was lying, she smoothed her robes and instinctively looked for her wand, to find her pocket empty.

Good Godric…she was defenseless.

‘Never Mistress, I reckon your wand is waiting for you. In the meanwhile, you can use my power.’ A Soft voice murmured in her head and she shivered.

‘Don’t tell me you’re taking residence in my mind. I had it with Tom’s Horcrux.’

‘As you wish My Chosen .’ Death’s chuckles made her stifle a sigh at her predicament.

She was reminded of her audience when Orion Black stiffened and stealthily gripped his wand.

“You’re so different, yet so alike,’’ she couldn’t suppress her smile as she remembered how much Sirius abhorred showing weakness, he used to fake boredom or nonchalance when he was distressed.

“I asked you a question, who are you and how did you manage to break through the unbreakable Black wards?” Contempt twisted his lips as he asked again.

For some reason, the sight of his ferocious scowl elicited a twitch of amusement at the corners of her lips. There was something so endearing about the proud man.

“I am Hespera Po…Peverell,” she cursed her stutter. She wasn’t used to her new name yet.

A mask of calmness slid over his excruciatingly perfect face, his gleaming eyes giving nothing away.

She felt a weight on her forefinger and her eyes widened as she assessed the ring she had seen once it was destroyed. The Resurrection Stone sparkled in the barely lit room and for a strange reason; the whispers coming from its hub didn’t bother her.

She felt the presence of an endless amount of souls giving her company, lending her their strengths and corroborating her mission.

It seemed Orion Black was taught his history well, for he lifted a brow and drawled. ’’Are you going to answer my questions Lady Peverell?”

Hespera couldn’t hide her devious grin:’’With pleasure, Heir Black.”

His eyes flared for a split second before they narrowed again. ”How do you know me? I don't remember ever crossing paths with you.”

Hespera chanced a step forward and maintained eye contact as she started. ’’I know many things, Heir Black. I know your past and your future.”

He seemed surprised by her admitting so much freely.

“How?” he demanded rather than asked.

“Let me show you. You know Legilimency?”

Sirius told her that his father was a prodigy in the Mind Arts, he was also a staunch traditionalist which incited her to hold on to the titles while addressing him.

“I swear on my magic that everything Heir Orion Arcturus Black will see in my memories is the truth and nothing but the truth. So Mote Be It.”

Hespera took the vow Sirius taught her, wanting to extinguish all sparks of doubt at once. If she wanted to start over, she needed allies, Black allies in this instance.

Death chose Orion as the one for a reason she didn’t know yet, but she had faith in his decision.

Death was the only one who told her the truth, who saw her for what she was, who read her heart without her lips uttering a letter.

Death was her past and the future of her enemies.

‘That’s the spirit Hespera, let’s show them. ’ The bastard whispered and she knew she had to learn Occlumency as soon as possible.

‘But it won’t keep me away. I am a part of you now.’ Came the smug answer.

Hespera shook her head exasperatedly and looked at Orion. ”What do you say?” She had no notion where the idea of sharing her memories has come from, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret her hasty decision.

She needed him and he … needed her to flee Walburga’s clutches.

She knew of their turbulent relationship, she knew that he hated Walburga. He was forced to marry her and it made him resentful, hence ignoring his children and their suffering.

Sirius blamed him for turning a blind eye to their abuse but didn’t really hate him, at least not as much as he despised his mother.

“With your permission, Lady Peverell.” Orion seemed excited at the prospect of gathering some precious information, his greedy Black blood no wonder looking for more ammunition to suppress the family's enemies.

She felt the moment he breached her mental barriers gently and started wandering around. She relaxed and let him get his fill.

The more he saw, the more he paled. She pitied him. It might be hard to witness your whole line’s demise. The Blacks were a close-knit and one of the oldest Wizarding families, she couldn’t even imagine what he might be going through, though she had a hunch.

In her past life, She was the last Potter.

When he was done with his harrowing trip in her memories, he sagged on his bed and raked his shaking fingers through his fine black locks.

Hespera took a seat by his side and used a clipped tone of her own, suggesting:’’Let me help you, Heir Black.”

“Orion, call me Orion…” came his hoarse permission.

Hespera leaped at the request. She was not familiar with Pureblood traditions, but she was ready to learn if it meant giving her the power to make this world, her new world, a better place.

“You may call me Hespera,” she returned softly.

Orion closed his eyes and murmured:’’What a blithering idiot, I was. I acquiesced and contributed to my destruction, to my children’s demise. I…I am not a good wizard, I’m not worthy of my name.’’

Hespera’s stomach gave a sad leap at the self-deprecation she heard in his voice. At that moment, he seemed young and lost, even though there was nothing sensitive or remotely boyish about him. ’’Orion, we were but victims in our past lives. Let’s make this new one better. Let’s make everything better.”

He lifted his head and pierced her with his gaze. His pale eyes glittered like rare diamonds from the necklace of a queen; beautiful eyes that showed so much emotion despite the stifling silence.

She recognized the moment he came to a decision. Orion took her hand in his with something akin to reverence and gazed his pale lips over her cold skin.

Hespera was not a romantic. She never believed in fairytales or white knights, all she wanted was to survive.

But at that moment, she couldn’t suppress the giddiness she felt. Something peculiar was happening to her, she felt the thrill of her magic as slight sparks left her fingers.

“Hespera Peverell, would you help me rid our world of this evil and avoid our families’ demise? Would you share this burden with me? Would you stand by my side as my Lady?” Orion’s direct gaze didn’t waver as he waited for her answer.

His Lady?

The thought found purchase inside her head. She was never in love, and never felt attracted to one of her schoolmates.

Orion was…different.

He was Sirius’ father…

Could she entertain the idea of forging a future with a stranger, a man she just met?

Death’s words played in her mind again.

Her heart…

What her heart yearned for was Sirius and her family and Orion could give her both. She wouldn’t be alone anymore; she would have the Blacks and many other families backing her.

She might even extend a hand to the….Potters and protect them.

It was time to look for herself, to see to her own needs and her thirst for revenge was too great.

Without hesitation, she reached out slowly, as if he was a wild animal that might bolt if startled, and her soft fingers laced through his with careful lightness.

Brushing aside the swath of a stray hair from his eyes, she said in a low tone.“Of course, I will, but first, let’s get rid of your supposed fiancée.”

Her reward was Orion’s devastating smile as he kissed her knuckles again.

Their moment was ruined as a sound came from the doorway and caught their attention.

“Master Orion, Master Arcturus is calling for you. Master Arcturus says they are waiting for you,” a female house elf bowed before she informed them.

“Thank you, Tally. I’ll be down in a minute. Please do refrain from announcing my guest’s arrival, I want to have the pleasure of doing it myself.” Orion smirked and Hespera grinned sharply.

To see Walburga’s dreams crushed.

Tally’s eyes widened as they raked her but she bowed respectfully and popped away.

“Are you ready Lady Peverell?” Orion asked in a pleasant voice that was underlaid with iron.

‘’You have no idea, Heir Black. I was born ready for this moment.” Hespera replied with such cheerful arrogance that they couldn’t contain their chuckles.

Chapter Text

’Hold on.‘’ Orion held Hespera’s arm gently as she headed toward the door.

She raised her eyes questioningly, causing his pulse to leap, and he struggled to take a deep breath. He was still working on wrapping his mind around what transpired that fateful night.

He was just moments away from ruination; fortunately, it seemed that Mother Magic took mercy on him.

Hespera’s presence by his side fed his determination. Her gaze was forthright and guiltless, something he sorely missed. The dim light seemed to catch on her pale eyes, causing them to gleam like two thoroughly polished jewels and he knew that he made the right choice.

The path ahead of them was charged with hurdles and a good many hazards yet one look at the heart-shaped face that radiated a force of will both exciting and unsettling gave him all the reassurance he needed.

Against every rule of property, he plighted his troth to a witch he just met knowing he became honor-bound to keep his promise.

His father’s discussions with his Uncle Pollux did not count as he never consented to the betrothal. His magic had always been repulsed by Walburga’s and he knew he could never grant her access to his heart.

Their reunion would have been a cold one where there could never be a real bonding according to the Olde Ways. Even though he respected his father and held his family’s name above everything else, Orion could never betray his magic.

He felt little remorse for embroiling Hespera in this clutter. Although he had done it under the guise of a simple alliance, that hadn’t been the only reason. The truth was he had never been so entranced by anyone as he was by this stranger.

To his consternation, he knew he wasn’t willing to let her go even after they fulfilled their vow to see to their enemies’ end. The heart-wrenching memories he glimpsed inside her head were grueling and fascinating at once.

No one could suspect the power this slip of a girl was harnessing inside her small body. He was taught to respect power and Hespera Peverell’s vigor was unrivaled.

There was that great capacity for love, also. He was amazed by the kindness and compassion she was able to show despite her unsavory past. She was never nurtured or cherished, yet she loved deeply and forgave time and again.

Had he been treated likewise, he would’ve used all his resources to seek vengeance and see to his foes’ grisly demise.

‘’Orion?” Hespera called and a flicker of excitement he hadn’t felt in years awakened in his heart.

“Wait a moment, please.’’ One corner of his mouth curled with amusement as he skittered across the room and took a small box from his drawer.

An abundant spark of pure Black magic exuded from the velvet box and Orion knew that he took the right decision.

Hespera stared at him in confusion as he handed her the box for inspection. He wanted to inundate her with lavish gifts, and make her understand that she would never regret choosing him but he gathered from her memories that it wasn’t what attracted her attention.

Hespera was a woman of actions; shallow words and opulent jewels meant nothing to her and he would show her how thankful he was with time.

She gasped as she lifted the lid. ’’Orion, this is…”

‘’Lady Ursula Flint Black’s engagement ring, my great grandfather Phineaas Nigellius’ wife. I reckon you met him,” he clarified, enjoying her surprise.

“It’s beautiful,” her fingers tightened around the box and he grinned. It was beautiful indeed.

His father asked him to retrieve the ring as his mother -who was gifted Hesper Gamp’s ring- wanted to keep it for his sister.

Ursula’s ring was the only one unclaimed in the main vault. The thought of Walburga wearing the legendary ring made his stomach churn with disgust. Ursula was acknowledged to be a virtuous and proper witch. She supported Phineas when he broke tradition and choose to teach. She remained steadfast and unwavering even when he became Hogwarts’ Headmaster. She raised her four children with love and care and never let their father’s absence hinder their magical and mental growth.

Even her ring spoke of her character. While witches of her status plumped for glamorous displays of wealth, Ursula chose a simple black diamond surrounded by tiny star-shaped stones. It marked her devotion to her new family for since the day she accepted Phineas as her husband, she embraced the Black traditions and ideals.

He knew that Walburga could never understand the ample history behind the unpretentious heirloom, so he hid it and asked Lucretia to buy a garish ring for their dear cousin.

He took the ring out.

His eyes glued to Hespera’s, he said. ’’Our union might be an unconventional one, but I will never disrespect you. You have my word, Hespera. With this ring, you get my tangible pledge that I’ll be always there for you. You don’t need my protection, I understand. You are from a different world where witches have more freedom but rest assured that I’ll never thwart your plans and your freedom. From this day on, we are the same. I pray that the future will show you the truth my vow holds.”

The ring fit her finger like it was always meant to be there. Nudging her chin gently to make her look at him, he smiled as he caught sight of her misty eyes.

He knew how lonely she was and he hoped that the abundance of family members he had would fill that hole in her heart.

“As much as I want to stay here and get to know you better, I know that Father is not the most patient man,” Orion muttered and Hespera snorted.

“Sirius used to tell me about his grandfather. I believe he loved him deeply. He reported that he was a stern man.” Hespera admitted tracing the collar of her robes.

The fabric was stretched to her every move like liquid silver and he was certain that it was not an ordinary one. He sensed the enchantments weaved with every thread of silk. Death would never leave his Mistress unattended.

His eyes flew to her head and he pondered on his next course of action as she flipped a long lock of hair over her back. It was improper for women of her status to walk about with their hair hanging down. Hespera had such a wealth of heavy dark locks he reasoned she inherited from the Potters.

With his limited knowledge, it would be an ordeal to pin it all up in the intricate coiffures his mother and sister fancied but he couldn’t let her embarrass herself in front of Walburga and his Uncle.

“May I arrange your hair? I’m not sure if you were taught the Olde Ways, but a witch can’t go about with her hair unbound. I…” he struggled to find the words knowing that he was talking to a witch from a more evolved world, with different customs and beliefs.

“I don’t mind,” Hespera surprised him as she complied, “I want to fit in. I can’t raise any suspicions and I don’t want Walburga to find any fault with me.”

Orion barely managed to suppress his snort as he professed. ’’As if she could ever measure up to you. You are an amazing woman Hespera, never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He enjoyed the splotches of pink that dusted her cheeks when he drew his fingers idly through her hair, gathering it at her back.

His magic sang appreciatively and he felt weightless and free.

With a twirl of his wand, he arranged it in a smooth bun knowing that he couldn’t do more. He was not cut for hairdressing, hopefully, his mother and Lucretia would see to Hespera’s education later.

“Just remember, we can’t divulge the truth. Let’s adhere to the sudden encounter story. Father will never refuse our union with that ring in your hand and I believe he was not eager to marry me off to Walburga, he’s acting in accordance with our ways.” Orion reminded her as he threw his new black robes over his shirt.

Hespera’s eyes followed his moves before she muttered:’’Your customs are dreadful. How can they force you to bond with that horrible woman?”

“At least you were here to save me, my dear Lady. Let’s head down.” Orion smirked and she shook her head.

--

Orion’s lips quivered with a repressed laugh as the eyes that followed their progress widened dramatically.

He felt the moment Hespera froze and he knew she recognized the younger Walburga.

Said witch’s eyes were throwing daggers at his companion, but Hespera clang to his arm and ignored her.

He guessed that she was scrutinizing the guests and trying to connect the younger faces with her memories.

Alphard raised a questioning brow and his eyes shone with mirth as they swiveled between him and Hespera, then went to Pollux and Walburga, to land finally on Arcturus.

Orion bowed respectfully to his father and then to the guests and Hespera followed suit.

“Orion? How come the wards hadn’t announced the arrival of your guest?” Arcturus asked curtly, his grey eyes studying the witch with care, no wonder trying to find something that could help him deduce her identity.

“Father, the wards hadn’t warned you of my companion’s arrival because they considered her a part of this family, me in this instance,” Orion declared calmly.

His father’s eyes narrowed slightly but he kept silent. He was not known for brash actions. He seldom did a thing without a solid reason.

His mother, on the other hand, tilted her head and her eyes flared with hope. He knew she understood him well like he knew she would support his decision no matter what.

Lucretia was whispering something to Alphard while Cygnus kept trying to eavesdrop. Even though they spent seven years together in Hogwarts, they weren’t close like he was with Alphard.

Cygnus III wasn’t bad per se, but he never bothered with others' feelings and troubles. All that mattered to him was his gain.

He hoped that he could be saved before he followed on his father’s path and sold his future daughters, reducing the precious Black stars to trophy wives and condemning them to fates worse than death.

It broke his heart how Andromeda was banished while Bellatrix surrendered to the Black Madness and Narcissa suffered from a frigid marriage.

Pollux looked constipated as he stood up carefully. ”What’s the meaning of this Orion? How can this woman be a part of you?”

So the old coot wanted him to voice the news. Even though he was aware that he understood his words very well, he didn't mind doing as he was asked.

“Lady Hespera Peverell is my fiancée, my chosen. We are to bond in the future and I shall have no other witch,”

The silence that followed his confession was downed out by an anguished roar as Walburga jumped to her feet. ”That’s not true! How can Orion choose this scarlet woman over me? I’m sure that she doused him with Amortentia,” the harpy shrieked and he winced fearing for his ears’ safety.

She shrank as her father gripped her arm harshly. ”Mind your manners Walburga. Orion is Heir Black, his ring will always protect him from harmful potions,'’ his words became a hiss as he gritted out, ’’can’t you see the ring she’s wearing? It’s the Peverell ring. No one but its rightful owner can put it on. Do you want to start a Blood Feud with her family? Shut your mouth and sit down at once.”

‘’Such breach of manners,’’ Hespera tsked as she adjusted her rings, enjoying Walburga’s apparent turmoil, ‘’you shouldn’t act so gracelessly Miss Black it's unbecoming of someone of your upbringing. You’ll attract nothing but enemies, powerful enemies in this case.”

Walburga huffed with outrage and he knew that Hespera had no patience left to cope with her. She had a very eventful day after all.

A sharp gust came from the open side of the balcony, whipping the front of Walburga’s robes apart. The diamond-encrusted first button slipped free and hovered in front of her startled eyes, the sharp tip was a breath away from her forehead. Gripping the edges of her robes, she turned fearful eyes to her father.

Pollux wasn’t faring any better and he couldn’t blame him. The thick fog of Dark magic that cloaked Hespera was something frightening.

Pure tendrils took the shapes of daggers and he knew that had anyone she considered a threat approached, he would be stabbed on the spot.

“You will apologize now. I don’t appreciate being called a scarlet woman and treated poorly by the likes of you,” Hespera’s voice was cold and unyielding and he shivered from the onslaught of emotions her magic and her voice provided.

He looked at his best friend and smiled despite the grim circumstances when he noticed how much he was enjoying his father and sister’s humiliation.

Both used to belittle him for being different.

Alphard was a kind and soft wizard. He didn’t fancy confrontations and political games. All he wanted was to spend his time in his lab creating new potions and reading journals.

“Walburga. Do as she asks,” Irma made her presence known. Her voice came weary and strained and he pitied her.

He was aware that her opinions were trampled by her husband. She had no saying in the children’s education, except Alphard who clang to her despite the horrendous punishments.

Walburga pursued her lips but Pollux dragged her up. He was an old fox, well acquainted with political hierarchy.

The Peverells were considered royalty among commoners. To slight one of them was suicide, more so now that the long-awaited Heiress emerged after the seat remained vacant for centuries.

Every Lord and Lady would work himself to the bone, plead and grovel to win an alliance.

He predicted a fight the moment she would step into the Wizengamot chambers. Everyone would be eager to have her on their side.

“Apologize properly,” he instructed icily.

Walburga’s stiff fingers were fumbling with the button that dropped in her hands.

“I’m sorry Lady Peverell,’’ her voice was scratchy but she averted her gaze and waited for her father’s next command.

Pollux cleared his throat. ”Arcturus, I believe we have no reason to remain here now. Once again, you disappointed me and aborted any truce I had in mind. Hopefully, Lady Peverell will be the daughter-in-law you dreamed of for I know how much you love your dear son. Come, let’s head home.”

Alphard rolled his eyes and mouthed. ’’Later.” His eyes sought Hespera for a heartbeat before they returned to his and the prat had the gall to wink.

He expected a fire call later that night.

The fireplace flared after his uncle’s family left.

“Take a seat Lady Peverell. I apologize for what took place with my niece. I believe she needs a firmer hand. She was spoiled as the only daughter and I regret how much that ruined her character.” Always the mediator, his mother offered with her customary gentle smile.

Her Hufflepuff core never failed to make its appearance in times of turmoil and he was once again thankful to her.

“Thank you Lady Black. You may call me Hespera,” Hespera sat by his side and folded her hands on her lap, mimicking his sister.

“My dear brother, while I was fearing for your welfare, you were plotting and keeping Lady Peverell all to yourself?” Lucretia drawled ignoring their father’s reprimanding glance.

“I assume there’s a story behind tonight’s show and I’m eager to hear it,” Arcturus finally spoke and despite knowing that it was coming, he was filled with trepidation.

He hated lying to his father. He was his dearest person, his role model, his strength but he had to for the future was not something to be trifled with. The fewer people learned of Hespera’s secret the safer they would be.

“Our story is not a complicated one, Father. As I was leaving Gringotts, I stumbled upon Hespera. She used to live abroad with her relatives since her parents died when she was very young. She was not made aware of her birthright until recently, so she returned to Britain to claim her inheritance and hold her seat. I helped her with the goblins and we felt at ease in each other’s company. I tried to tell you about her but you were firm in your decision and wouldn’t listen to me. I apologize if I caused you more trouble with Uncle Pollux but I don't regret my choice. Hespera is the right witch for me and our family. Together, we can do miracles.’’

Orion paused taking inventory of the various expressions playing on his father’s face.

He might not believe him fully, but he wouldn’t pester him with more inquiries. Arcturus believed in giving things time, he had faith in his children and trusted them implicitly.

“I don’t see how we can break this betrothal now that she’s wearing Lady Ursula’s ring. Do you understand what you promised Orion?” Arcturus lifted a brow waiting for his answer.

“I do and I will honor my pledge.”

“Then welcome to the family Lady Peverell and don’t worry about Pollux and Walburga, I’ll take care of them. This rivalry had been going on for years and it’s time to put an end to it,” he seemed resigned to his fate and Orion pitied him.

His love for his family was his weakness, something Cygnus II then Pollux exploited. It was indeed time to stop them.

“Thank you, Lord Black. I appreciate your kind words and you may call me Hespera.”

“Hespera then. Your name fits splendidly with our family's tradition,” Arcturus smirked and everyone grinned.

“Enough with the talking. We can’t act like uncouth people in the presence of Lady Peverell. Tally!”

Tally popped in seeming tired. ”Mistress Melania called for Tally.”

“Are you fine, you look worn out,” Melania wondered, her brows furrowing with distress.

“Tally is fine Mistress Melania. It’s Kreacher Tally worries about. He was sick all day but Kreacher won’t listen to Tally. He left his room and keeps muttering strange words.”

“I’ll have a look at him later, leave him be for now I reckon he’s with fever.”

“As you wish Mistress Melania. I'll bring refreshments,” Tally bowed and popped away.

His mother and Lucretia kept exchanging small talks with Hespera while they waited for Tally.

Orion was thinking about their next step. He surmised an urgent trip to Gringotts was a must to put everything in order.

He was jolted from his reverie when Kreacher popped in holding a large silver tray.

He recalled his loyalty to Regulus in his previous life and his heart bled with affection.

Yet, the soft thought flew away the moment Kreacher’s eyes caught sight of Hespera.

He dropped the tray, and the priceless tea set, and leapt at her feet.

Everyone stood up alarmed as fat tears ran down his seemingly sick face. The elf kept sobbing and repeating. ”Mistress Hespera, you’re back. You’re back!”

Hespera was openly crying too as she knelt and hugged her former elf with all her might. The moment the two connected, a bright light surrounded them.

“Merlin’s Mercy!” His mother gasped, “They’re bonding.”

“Bonding? But Kreacher is a House Black elf, he’s to become Orion’s personal elf.” A shocked breath escaped Lucretia as she looked for an answer.

“This is not a normal bonding between a witch and an elf. This bond is as deep and eternal as a soul bond, nothing can break it. It’s blessed by Mother Magic,” Arcturus sounded amazed as he explained.

“That…” Lucretia couldn’t go on as Kreacher’s sickly appearance changed.

He looked younger and way better. His arms remained linked around Hespera’s neck as she stood slowly. She whispered something for his ears only and he buried deeper into her neck and nodded.

“Kreacher! What are you doing you ungrateful elf?” Tally sounded scandalized as she joined them.

“Let him be, Tally.” Hespera’s voice was hoarse and broken.

Orion hurried to her side and murmured. ”Are you alright?”

She nodded and he was blinded by the joy shining in her expressive eyes.

“He remembers me,” she whispered softly and a deep flutter went through him.

At least she wasn’t alone. He couldn’t imagine leaving his world and everything behind and starting from scratch in a strange dimension, so he understood what Kreacher’s memories meant to her.

Sliding a hand to the center of her back, he guided her toward his father.

“Father…”

“Orion, I don’t want to sound like a prying old coot but things aren’t adding up. How could Hespera manage a Sacred Bond when she never met Kreacher before? To establish such a miraculous link there must be a history included.”

He feared that his father wouldn’t stay silent for long and this unheralded surprise hastened his need to know.

“I can explain,” Hespera offered, her hand patting Kreacher’s back with maternal care.

“As the last Peverell, I was granted special gifts. Kreacher was always destined to be mine, his soul was promised to me long ago. Nothing can tear us apart. I can give you any compensation you want Lord Black but I’ll never go against Mother Magic’s verdict. Kreacher is mine.”

Everyone remained flabbergasted as they mulled over her words. It wasn’t just that no one contradicted Arcturus Sirius Black, ever, it was what she divulged.

Orion wanted to rub his temples. Hespera just admitted that some of the myths surrounding the Peverells were true. Mainly the rumors about their link with Death and souls.

“Hespera.” He groaned and she looked at him for a moment before what she disclosed dawned on her.

“It’s fine, Kreacher will be Hespera’s elf. I know that he won’t mind helping you too, son,” Melania, bless her heart, cleared the tense moment.

“So be it,” his father smirked, “Congratulations Hespera, you won yourself a most loyal friend. I believe whatever force bought you to us is looking for our House’s welfare. You’re a special witch and I’ll be honored to call you daughter.”

Hespera pursued her lips in a despairing attempt to keep her dignity, but her eyes gleamed with happiness.

“Mother, I think Hespera is tired. Why don’t you show her to her room?” Orion managed to ask, his pulse in his throat.

“But I…” flustered, she interjected.

“Of course, you’ll stay with us. You are new to this country and I don’t fancy the thought of you alone in a huge manor,” Melania said firmly.

“Mother is right. I’ve always wanted a sister and now, my dear brother gifted me one. I want to get to know you better Hespera, please do stay,” Lucretia fluttered her eyelashes, a tactic he was immune to which Hespera seemingly wasn’t.

His poor witch.

As inviting as the plush bed was, sleep evaded Hespera. She tossed and turned in the vast bed for hours, all the while thinking about what happened that night.

The weight of the rings adorning her fingers and Kreacher’s soft snores attested that she did indeed time travel, land in the Grimmauld Place sixty years ago, and accept Sirius father’s proposal.

She did put Walburga in her place too, which was a bonus.

She raised her head and looked at Kreacher who insisted on spending the night with her, fearing that she might disappear again.

‘’He will be fine,’’ Death materialized from the shadows and she sighed.

“Good Godric. Should I expect nightly visits too? You’re awfully clingy for a Deity.”

“I am your guardian and your best friend. I am here to alleviate your worries. You did well today Hespera, considering your brash nature. You won a strong alley and a handsome partner if I might add,” Death’s voice was oozing smugness.

“You…Don’t you have souls to steal somewhere else?” She mumbled.

“I have minions for that sort of menial tasks. It is my challenger’s soul I’m seeking,” He said curtly and she understood the importance of his visit.

“What should I do?” her voice was small as she sought his guidance.

“Tomorrow, you should go to Gringotts. I’m not sure when I’ll visit next but you have to secure your position within the Wizengamot. You are the Heiress of Death. They must know of you, they must witness your power and show you the reverence you deserve. Tom Riddle will come eventually. He’s like a niffler, he can’t ignore the lure of gold,” Death said without a pause and she heard the logic in his reasoning.

“Will I be ready when he comes?” she wondered. She didn’t want to engage in another war, she had enough to last for ten lifetimes.

“Who said anything about him surprising you? Never forget who you are now. Death doesn’t wait for his preys, he stalks them,”

She swore that he purred the last words but it was hard to be certain when all she heard was her own heartbeat.

Chapter Text

Hespera squinted at the windows where a brilliant blue sky announced that she had slept well into the morning. Kreacher was nowhere to be seen and she reckoned he left to fulfill the tasks he was trusted with.

She cast her eyes downward and looked at the lush and fertile garden. It was so unlike the untilled sight she was used to. It was disheartening to think that this pleasing sight dwindled to a pittance.

She heard a soft knock before the door opened and Melania Black swept in, gliding gracefully in lavish dark purple robes.

Hespera felt self-conscious as she smoothed her robes and studied the woman standing before her. Melania’s expression showed so much compassion. Her exquisitely-sculpted face was serene and composed.

She gestured toward the settee occupying one corner of the room. Hespera followed at her heels and took a seat next to her.

“I hope you rested well, my dear.” Melania smiled and tiny constellations of reflected sunlight seeping through the open window glinted in her eyes.

They were almond-shaped like Orion’s but with more blue than grey.

Hespera nodded. ”I did, thank you, Mrs Black.”

“It’s Melania my dear; call me Melania since you’re family now. It’s regretful that you lost your parents at such young age. I hope that your relatives treated you well,” Melania waited expectantly.

Silence fell between them and Hespera allowed herself to consider, fleetingly, what it would be like to have a mother with whom she could share all her secrets, a mother to protect her, a mother who would help her shoulder her burden.

Her wistful thoughts infuriated her but she couldn’t stop herself from dreaming knowing that she was not the same girl she was before she stepped into this world.

None of them had ever met her before or heard her story like it happened when she joined the wizarding World in her time. Her origins were mysterious and she could make a fresh start.

For most of her life, Hespera had worked to gain people’s acceptance and save her loved ones, eventually becoming the nickname she hated,  the Savior . Burdened with the prophecy and Voldemort’s thirst for her blood, she had invested as badly as possible in her own life. It hadn’t worked like Dumbledore planned and, smugly, she wanted to call it her good-luck curse.

She missed her friends but she believed that she would never really lose those she loved. They were a part of her, always safeguarded in her heart.

She was scared and uncertain, but she was also armed with a soul-deep feeling of invincibility.

Of course, the dark urges she was openly embracing now had always lurked a bit too close to the surface. And in the past year, she had begun to find it more difficult than usual to control them. She had started to question her life and how came Dumbledore trusted her with this mission while he gave her close to no leads.

The things that she used to do without thinking were no longer easily executed. Worst of all, she’d found herself haunted by suspicions and ominous thoughts.

Melania placed her hand over hers, reminding her that she was still there waiting for her answer and intending to get to know her better.

She took a deep, steadying breath, and when she spoke, she did her best to infuse her tone with confidence. It was not her fault that she was abused as a child, not her fault that she was dropped in a basket and left for an uncertain fate.

“My childhood wasn’t a happy one. My relatives were muggles, not very tolerant of anything different. It got better with time but I can’t say that I would ever miss them. I believe that this is my place, among my kind.”

Anger and consternation flashed through Melania’s eyes. She took her hand between hers and patted it gently. Hespera recognized the moment Melania let some of her magic free to comfort her.

It was sweet and warm but she knew better. Sirius told her of the sly wit and strong will that lurked beneath his beloved grandmother’s perfect surface.

Melania reached out for her and cupped her cheek. ’’Forget about them, about everything that transpired before you came back to London and claimed your rightful place. You’re Lady Peverell but you’re soon to be a Black and Blacks protect their own. From this day on you will never lack for family or love Hespera.”

Hespera flinched as she fought the tremors that ran through her body. Melania’s warm magic surrounded her like a mother’s hug and she realized that the woman was serious about her bold statement.

Even though they met a day ago, she cared about her.

Melania gave her a moment to collect her wits, then coaxed her to stand up.

“I believe that a trip to Diagon alley is in order. The material of your robes is exotic; I’ve never seen something like it before. However, as Lady Peverell, you will need an extensive wardrobe for leisure and formal meetings. You can never be overdressed; the first impression does matter a great deal.”

Considering the statement, which made sense, Hespera remembered Death’s words from last night and admitted as her gaze flickered to Melania’s elegant robes. ’’I traveled to London in a rush so I didn’t bring many things with me. Moreover, I was living among muggles. Their trends are not suitable for the kind of circles I’ll be frequenting.”

Melania beamed at her. ’’Then I hope you’ll welcome the overabundance of shops I’ll be taking you to. Lucretia will welcome the company. She had been forced to put up with Walburga and her tantrums for too long but after last night, I’m sure the spoiled child is not eager to show her face in public.”

Melania grinned at her astonished face. ”You shouldn’t be surprised, my dear. I care about my son’s happiness and that girl can’t give him what he needs. Orion might seem icy and unruffled and cerebral but he’s a good man. He needs a strong, selfless woman that can understand and help him. He’ll never hinder you too; I strongly believe that he’ll be delighted to help you get acquainted with our society. The truth is, I’m looking forward to helping you as well so don’t hesitate to ask whenever you feel lost or overwhelmed.”

A rush of love filled her heart at Melania’s words and she understood then what she missed all her life. It was finding this kind of female companionship, the kind that cemented the belief that she was no longer alone.

Hespera had found a real friendship with Hermione Granger. However, their circumstances didn’t allow for the chance to explore the Wizarding World in-depth and understand what made the Pureblood witches seem different and, in a way,  fascinating.

‘’Thank you,” came Hespera’s hoarse answer as a swallow of longing seared her throat.

There was a glint of understanding in Melania’s light eyes before she smiled and shook her head. ’’My apologies for holding you from breakfast. Orion asked me to take care of you until you get settled and I couldn’t wait. I must warn you that you should be prepared for similar visits from Lucretia. You can’t imagine how delighted she was when you showed up last night. Now, allow me to see to your needs. Tally!”

Tally popped in and bowed. ”Mistress Melania called for Tally.”

“Please, bring the robes I sent for this morning.”

“As Mistress Melania wishes,” Tally was back a moment later with black silky robes.

Melania took them from her small arms and held them for Hespera’s inspection. ”I owled Madam Antoinette this morning. She’s a renowned designer who takes commissions from select families. I’m glad she was able to finish this dress which was meant for Lucretia first.”

Hespera’s eyes studied the sharp-cut design and her fingers itched to run along the material.

she felt ill at ease and blurted. ’’I don’t want to be a bother, I can buy some clothes later. I’m going to Gringotts anyway so I’ll take a stroll in Diagon Alley. I will…”

Whatever silly string of objections she was about to speak was interrupted as Melania raised her hand. ”Nonsense. I believe you have the same size as Lucretia, only you’re a bit shorter. And you don’t need to wait for later, she won’t mind. Hespera, you have to start thinking of us as your family. Lucretia is your sister now. So get dressed and let me style your hair. I noticed how it was arranged yesterday and I believe it’s Orion’s handiwork.”

She swore that she heard a snort, but it was so fleeting she couldn’t be sure.

Hespera knew that arguing with the woman wasn’t going to change her mind. She took the new robes and changed quickly in the bathroom. Her fingers tingled as they glazed over the silver small stars stitched on the collar and her brows furrowed.

Melania nodded as she gave her a once-over. ”Perfect. I’m glad I was able to finish the embroidery too. Thank Merlin I did it as soon as I received the silk.”

When Hespera looked at her questioningly, Melania’s eyes flared before she regained her composure:. ’I’m sorry but haven’t you studied Ancient Runes?”

Hespera shook her head and Melania seemed crestfallen. ”That’s a transgression. As a future Lady, you should’ve been taught Runes. You will need them for everything; from securing your properties and taking control of the Wards Stone, to stitching a piece of your magic in your children’s clothes using the runic thread. It’s your commitment as a wife and a mother to do so.”

Melania must have noticed her anguished expression for he patted her shoulder. ’’But you don’t need to worry. I will teach you everything. Your future children will never go without your protection.”

Two flags of color burned the apples of her cheeks and Melania chuckled.

Their moment was interrupted when Lucretia joined them after a soft knock.

“Mother, I was looking for you and Tally informed me that you are with Hespera. Oh, excuse my manners, good morning Hespera,” Lucretia looked embarrassed at her slip, that until she noticed the robes she was wearing.

“Madam Antoinette managed to finish them? They look great on you Hespera. I believe Ori will be very pleased.” She winked, ignoring her mother’s sigh.

“Let’s help Hespera with her hair then go down. Your father should be waiting for us.”

“And Father doesn’t like waiting. At least, I have an alibi. I’m taking care of my new sister-in-law so he won’t mind,” Lucretia’s voice was so smug that Hespera couldn’t keep her snort.

Her eyes widened but the two women surprised her as they burst out laughing.

“What are your plans for the day?” Arcturus observed airily as he sipped his tea.

“Hespera needs to visit Gringotts for some family business and I will accompany her. Do you need me for something, Father?” Orion replied warily, wondering if his father would bring up the events of last night.

Once again, Arcturus showed how astute he was. He merely smirked and added. ’’I think that The Peverell seat had remained vacant for too long. You should help Hespera with her business in Gringotts so she can join us at the earliest. I can’t wait to witness the reaction of some fellow Lords.”

Orion knew very well how vicious his father was. He had an inkling of the Lords he was talking about.

“And it would be great to watch my suave, sartorial brother with his beautiful, all too powerful fiancée bringing some action to the otherwise boring sessions,” Lucretia interceded without being asked.

Even though she was older, Orion knew that she was spoiled and coddled way too much. Being the Heir made his father treat him differently. He didn’t blame him for he loved his sister dearly.

“Then I’ll make sure to give you a good show Lord Black.” Hespera surprised him as she exclaimed.

Arcturus nodded eagerly. ”You do that Hespera. As Lucretia said, the last sessions were very boring and some fools started thinking that they could do as they please. We need some balance, we need new blood.”

“I agree. The prejudice against Dark Magic started after Grindelwald appeared. The Light faction is taking credit for contributing to the win but they forgot the blood and magic many of us shed,” Orion added watching Hespera for a long moment and assessing her reaction.

He knew how much she suffered at the hands of deranged, bigoted, and simply hateful Dark Wizards. He prayed that her past experience wouldn’t thwart her new circumstances. She became a Dark Witch, to begin with, the Peverell magic she let free yesterday was testament enough to his conviction.

And then, he wondered what she would do when confronted with the remains of her past, mainly Riddle and Dumbledore.

It might be early to start worrying but he wanted her to be ready at all times. The moment word went around that a Peverell emerged, he was certain that she would be pestered and hounded by many power-hungry fools.

“Orion?” Hespera glanced at him, “can we go now?”

Orion nodded and stood up waiting for her.

“Take care both of you,” His mother grinned.

He wanted to roll his eyes as Lucretia threw a saucy wink. She was enjoying herself way too much for his peace of mind. He knew how strongly she disliked Walburga, but the sudden affection toward Hespera, a witch she met the night before, was quite disturbing. He feared what kind of mad schemes she was secretly concocting.

Orion took the coat offered by an eager Kreacher and gestured to Hespera to turn around. He noticed her new robes, and by the warmth coming from the silver stars embellishing the collar, he knew that it was a runic thread done by his mother.

His lips lifted faintly as he looked at his mother. She was following their interaction with hopeful eyes.

Hespera’s gaze alighted on him and he couldn’t hide his smugness witnessing her interest. Even though he was attired similarly to wizards of his status, he knew that he stood out like a  wolf  among pigeons. It wasn’t arrogance; it was the Black charm he inherited from his father and grandfather, which seemed to attract Hespera’s attention.

He felt pain as he remembered how much his sons had suffered. They never got the chance to bud and blossom like true sons of House Black. No wonder everything seemed new and exciting to the poor girl.

“After you, my lady,” Orion couldn’t resist teasing her and he wasn’t disappointed when her eyes narrowed before she strode toward the fireplace.

“Here Mistress Hespera, Master Orion,” Kreacher offered a jar of floo-powder and Orion inclined his head before he took some and stepped into the fireplace.

“How do you want to do this? We can go together if you wish and then…”, he leaned down and whispered for her ears only:”I remember your mishaps with the floo system.”

“How kind of you to remind me. Magical means of transportation are horrible,” she muttered crossly and he chuckled.

“Come, let me help you. It’s not that tricky but you were not taught the basics,” he offered and she acquiesced. He held her close to his side.

“Don’t get used to it. I plan to learn everything I was denied before,” Hespera said as she leaned against him and he gave her the right directions.

A moment later, they left The Leaky Cauldron’s ancient fireplace gracefully, arm in arm still.

Hespera’s eyes wandered around like an excited child and he made sure that she didn’t stumble on her feet.

Diagon alley was ablaze with activity. It was noisy and busy, congested with groups of witches and wizards setting out about their business.

The sky glowed bright orange as the light percolated through the haze of smoke. Crowns of lofty buildings broke the horizon, raw dark shapes protruding like witches’ hats and Orion enjoyed the feeling of the saturated magic.

It felt like he stepped into the Alley for the first time, the memory of the destruction Voldemort’s reign of terror left in its wake was still fresh in his mind.

“It’s beautiful,” Hespera glanced over her shoulder at a Quidditch equipment shop and he huffed.

“We can get you a broom later, but be warned that you won’t have the speed you are used to.”

Hespera pouted and looked at him. Somehow the intensity of her green eyes seemed to reach a deep place in his chest he never knew of before.

Just as it had happened in his room yesterday, Orion felt his heartbeat awaken with strange sensations. A tide of uncomfortable uncertainty washed over him and he stood immersed in wonder and heat and surprise, lost as a child before he could finally gather his wits sufficiently and head to Gringotts.

In Gringotts, Orion nodded to the guardian goblins and didn’t stop by the tellers. He took them to the Black goblin office.

Sharptooth arched an inquiring brow as he beheld the woman to his side. Orion seldom made sudden visits, he never strayed from his schedule and Sharptooth knew that so well.

“Heir Black, how can I help you?”

Hespera’s head swiveled between them, no wonder surprised by the peculiar exchange.

“Sharptooth, this is my fiancée Lady Hespera Peverell. She is here today to claim her inheritance.”

Sharptooth’s beady eyes flared with interest. “My, my…I never thought that I’d witness the day when the Peverells are back. Please take a seat,” he accorded Hespera a precise bow and she nodded.

“Let’s get your blood Lady Peverell. With an official parchment from our bank confirming your identity, no one can doubt your claim.”

“Of course,” Hespera replied blandly accepting the offered dagger.

Without a wince, she nicked her finger and let three drops of blood smear the enchanted piece of parchment. It glowed golden before letters started appearing.

‘’Take a look Lady Peverell,” came Sharptooth’s calm command.

Hespera took the parchment and held it in the middle. Orion’s eyes widened as he started reading:

Name:  Hespera Peverell

Status : Pureblood Witch

Father’s Name:  Ignotus Peverell (Deceased)

Mother’s Name:  Ianthe Peverell née LeFay (Deceased)

Paternal Grandfather:  Linfred Peverell (Deceased)

Paternal Grandmother:  Aurelia Peverell née Gryffindor (Deceased)

Maternal Grandfather:  Waylen LeFay (Deceased)

Maternal Grandmother:  Suranne LeFay née Slytherin (Deceased)

Cousins:  Fleamont Potter, Charlus Potter, Marvolo Gaunt (Deceased), Morfin Gaunt, Merope Gaunt (Deceased), Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Heirlooms:  The Elder Wand.

                 The Resurrection Stone

                 The Cloak of Invisibility

Properties:  Peverell Manor in Wiltshire

                 Peverell Cottage in Skye

                 Peverell Cottage in Godric Hallows

                999,999,999 Galleons

                Hereditary precious stones and jewelry, ceremony daggers, ancestral wands, armors.

He was startled when he heard Hespera’s muttered. '’Curse you for interfering you bloody wanker!’'

Her cheeks reddened as he cast her a sardonic glance and she mumbled sheepishly. ”It’s Death's doing.”

Orion couldn’t imagine what it was like to befriend  ‘Death’ , nevertheless, he was not eager to learn.

“Welcome back Lady Peverell. The oracles had foretold of your return and we safeguarded your vault to the best of our ability. You are undoubtedly the richest Lady in Britain and with Heir Black’s inheritance; it would be fabulous to manage your interests,” Sharptooth commented slyly and Orion fought the need to roll his eyes.

“You know that you can’t run Hespera’s business as well. She needs another goblin.”

Sharptooth sneered and Hespera chuckled.

The door opened and his eyes narrowed as Sharptooth jumped to his feet and bowed. “Director Ragnok,” he greeted the stern-looking goblin before he started blabbering in  Gobbledegook.

Ragnok’s dark eyes never strayed from Hespera the whole time Sharptooth was talking and only his knowledge of the consequences prevented him from drawing his wand.

Ragnok’s smile was all teeth as he headed toward Hespera and offered his hand. Hespera seemed bewildered but she extended her hand and the Director shook it with ardor.

“Lady Peverell. It had been long since we’ve been waiting for you. I believe you showed up at the perfect time. Our word is deviating from the right path and I believe that you are the counterpoise we need so desperately.”

“Thank you Director Ragnok, But I think I’m not…” Hespera tilted her head, staring at him quizzically and Orion shrugged.

Since the events of last night, he couldn’t make sense of anything.

“You must believe Lady Peverell because you’re our only hope,” Ragnok insisted.

He reached inside his pocket and rummaged for a moment before he pulled out a silver key. “This is your vault’s key. As for your business, I’ll take care of it personally. You’re our most important customer.”

Of course, goblins were attracted to the money, but Ragnok’s interest in Hespera was starting to feel worrisome.

“Thank you Director Ragnok,” Hespera offered weakly.

“You can join the Wizengamot when you’re ready. I noticed that you have your ring, which was lost for centuries,” his eyes pierced the ring, lips twitching with amusement.

“I…” Hespera cleared her throat, “yes I have my ring. But I’ll need my wand and my cloak soon.” She explained.

“Of course. Lord Fleamont Potter has the Cloak. The Potters had been keeping it since Lady Iolanthe Peverell bonded with Lord Hardwin Potter, Lord Potter won’t mind giving it back. They know the  rules.  As for your wand…”

Orion’s heart lost a beat as he beheld the vindictive expression on the goblin’s face. '’It was usurped by Dumbledore when he won the duel against Grindelwald. We tried to take it back and guard it until a Peverell emerged but he refused.”

It was exciting and slightly frightening to witness the moment Hespera, in her fit of rage, let go of her iron control over her magic.

“He likes taking what doesn’t belong to him, doesn’t he?” she pointed out, her voice colder than a Dementor’s hug.

“That, I’m afraid he does so often,” Ragnok snorted.

Without thinking, Orion reached and smoothed her cold hand. ’’Hespera, we’ll get it back with everything else he stole from you.”

She made no reply, her piercing gaze riveted on his face as she intertwined their fingers together. Orion felt her hard strength, the steely intention to fight for what she lost and have her revenge. This was something he had never known but had always craved…to enfold, anchor and want someone so badly… exactly like this. 

To be a part of something great, something meaningful.

The sense of rightness filled him and he was feeling pleasantly light-weighted.

Hespera took an unsettled breath and her intent gaze slid back to Ragnok. ”I’ll visit you soon. For now, I have to plan my grand entrance to the Wizengamot. As for my Heirlooms, I’ll get both soon.”

Ragnok clapped his hands. ”Perfect. It will give you the chance to get acquainted with Lord Potter and Mr Charlus Potter, they’re presumably your closest kin. Mr Gaunt is a convict in Azkaban, as for Mr Riddle, he’s traveling around. It had been a couple of years since he had been sighted.”

When the name was mentioned, Hespera gripped his hand hard and he knew it was time to take their leave.

“We appreciate your help Director Ragnok,” he nodded and guided them out.

“Are you alright?” he looked down at a thoughtful Hespera.

“I am, or rather, I’ll be soon,” she urged him toward the tellers:’’I want to have a look at my vault. Would you join me?”

Orion was startled by her trust. Showing the contents of your vault to someone who was not -yet- family was unheard of.

But one look into Hespera’s expressive eyes told him that she did trust him. She made it plain yesterday when she gave him free rein to roam her memories and strengthened her stance now.

He slipped her hand through his arm and felt the fierce tension in her magic.

He knew she was still upset and angry and he swore that he would help accomplish whatever she planned.

Chapter Text

‘’Have you sent a letter to Lord Potter?’’ Arcturus Black asked, his voice matching the rest of him; polished, dark and inflexible.

“We did. I helped Hespera write a letter asking for a meeting and we’re waiting for his answer,” Orion replied.

A single nod was the only answer and his father’s inscrutable face unsettled him.

Always prone to suspicions, Arcturus never took things as they were offered; his analytical mind was what made him one of the toughest Lords in the Wizengamot. He seldom lost an argument.

“And how’s Hespera doing? Hopefully, she got settled in Grimmauld Place.” Arcturus tilted his head, and when he glanced at Orion, his eyes were bright with amusement.

Orion’s mouth twisted sardonically as he answered. ”I believe she’s enjoying her time with Mother and Lucretia. They took her under their wings and it became quite a challenge to have some alone time with her.” 

“You can’t blame Lucretia, she got the sister she had always wanted. As for Melania, it’s her nature to care and nurture,” his father’s voice was rich with unspent laughter and Orion’s features softened.

The overflowing love his father had for his mother never failed to warm his heart. He wondered if he would ever have the kind of bond they forged years ago. Whenever Melania was mentioned, a glow of fondness changed his father’s face, imparting such warmth and charm that startled him every single time.

Orion cleared his throat and cast a withering glance at his hands as he remembered the importunate man that caused Hespera so much pain.

“Father, how should we proceed with Dumbledore? You’re aware that it won’t be easy to confront Wizarding Britain’s reigning hero.”

Arcturus frowned and turned his head, looking at the numerous shelves lined with peculiar objects and rare family Heirlooms.

“I believe that Hespera is doing well for someone ignorant of his roots a few weeks ago. But it won’t be easy to defy Dumbledore. I’m thankful she’s related to the Potters, we will need their support and you know how much they value family. Moreover, I should take care of Pollux as soon as possible. We can’t have internal conflicts in times like these.”

Orion ran a finger along the desk’s smooth surface and asked. ’’Hespera wants to join the Wizengamot for the next session. What do you think?”

Arcturus stared at him intently. ”I think that she can take care of herself. I felt that girl’s power and it’s unmatched. She will become a great asset to all the repressed factions if she does intend to stand up to Dumbledore and the Light bigotry. I reckon that I should send some letters, we’ll need more allies.”

Orion was relieved when he heard a soft tap at the door. He was anxious and didn’t want to put Hespera in danger’s way. Yet, he knew that he wouldn’t stop her. He understood her need to right her past wrongs.

All he could do was become whatever she needed.

The memories she gifted him were priceless, she saved his entire family from certain doom and gave him another chance. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

The door opened a crack and Hespera entered.

“Good evening Arcturus,” she curtsied and his father inclined his head smoothly.

It seemed the lessons his mother was teaching her were producing successful results. He could pinpoint the changes in her. She was looking what you would expect the Lady of one of Wizarding Britain’s oldest families, if not the oldest, to look like.

She was more graceful and confident, with an ethereal appearance worthy of her family’s name. He was momentarily speechless as the strange thoughts assaulted him.

He was aware that she was beautiful and powerful but he couldn’t help being attracted to the sight of her every single day they met. It always felt like it was the first time.

“Orion? Are we leaving?” Hespera asked when he remained silent.

“Oh, another date. Have fun both of you,” his father interjected, sounding tremendously entertained.

“Thank you, Arcturus. Diagon Alley is fascinating and I want to learn every nook and corner of it.” She smiled wistfully and he stood up.

“Let’s go, I’ll take you to Uncle Regulus’ apothecary first and then, we’ll have lunch,” Orion offered enjoying her eager eyes.

He knew how much she wanted to immerse herself in their world now that she was free from her past shackles.

“It sounds lovely,” she attempted a dignified tone and he lifted an eyebrow. Her colour rose as he smiled and he couldn’t help noticing how endearing she looked.

Arcturus cleared his throat and Orion took her hand in his and skittered from the office and his father’s eagle eyes.

He cringed as he heard his father's laughs in his head.

--

Diagon Alley was as boisterous as ever, but Orion didn’t pay it much attention. His half-lidded eyes were rejoicing in the excitement wafting out from Hespera’s face. She reminded him of a child on his first outing.

He found his way through the crowded passageway with no difficulty at all, his grip on Hespera’s elbow was gentle but inexorable. More than a witch and a wizard did a double take when they noticed the witch Heir Orion Arcturus Black was escorting but he didn’t pay them any heed.

They walked languidly toward his uncle’s apothecary for what seemed like an interminable distance.

He preceded her into a well-lit shop with a large Venetian window overlooking the street. A heavy oak drafting table occupied the middle and shelves lined nearly every inch of wall space. There was a pleasant and oddly familiar mixture of scents in the air: candle wax and herbs and ink and book dust. It smelled like his Uncle Regulus.

“Orion, you’re finally here,” Orion turned toward the man who came into the open space and closed the concealed door.

Regulus’ sharp grey eyes turned toward Hespera and he bowed. ”Lady Peverell, I heard nothing but good things about you. Melania couldn’t stop singing your praises and I’m honoured to meet my nephew’s fiancée.”

Hespera curtsied and offered her hand. ”The pleasure is mine Mr Black, please do call me Hespera.”

Regulus kissed her hand and smiled. ”Hespera it is. You’re my new niece after all.”

Hespera gulped and Orion couldn’t blame her. His uncle, despite his easy-going tone, had a strong presence. He was a potions prodigy, the first his family birthed in a hundred years, followed by his cousin Alphard.

It surprised no one when he opted to follow his passion after graduation and open an apothecary. Blacks were businessmen at heart and his grandfather knew that Regulus’ trade will blossom in no time. Pollux mocked him, calling his interest plebeian and cheap but Regulus didn’t waver, his father, brother and sister gave him all the strength he needed. With his top-tier brewing, his shop became one of the most renowned in Europe. Witches, wizards and apprentices from the continent hurried to Master Regulus Black whenever they came across a troublesome formula or couldn’t find a rare ingredient.

“How is your brewing, Hespera?” Regulus asked playfully and Hespera flushed as she stared into his intense eyes.

Orion knew of her unsavoury experience with potions. Severus Snape was an awful professor and a ruffian who bullied his students instead of guiding them.

“It’s acceptable, I think,” Hespera admitted and Regulus lifted a brow.

“That won’t do, my dear. My family produced nothing but exemplary brewers and you’re no different. If you need any help with your potions, I can make myself available anytime. You should at least perfect some tonics and first aid potions,” Regulus said, taking a small vial from the shelves and depositing it on the table.

“This is my first assignment, niece. I want you to sort out the different ingredients used for this potion,” Regulus smirked and Orion shook his head.

“Uncle, Why…”

“No, it’s alright Orion. I like the challenge,” Hespera smiled and took the offered bottle.

“You’re corrupting another poor soul Uncle Regulus, trying to charm them with your potions,” an amused voice sighed and Orion couldn’t smother his grin.

“Alphard,” he greeted his favourite cousin.

“Why cousin, it had been a while since we met in Diagon Alley,” the git snickered, his eyes never leaving Hespera.

“Lady Peverell, I regret the circumstances of our first meeting but I can assure you that it was a pleasure,” he bowed and took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles.

Hespera’s eyes flared before they softened and warmed with affection.

“No need for the titles, call me Hespera.”

“And I am Alphard to you,” clearly he was having a grand time if his twinkling eyes were any indication.

“Uncle, I managed to secure a consignment of Unicorn Horn powder and Peruvian Vipertooth blood. I hurried here to inform you,” Alphard addressed Regulus, who seemed excited as well.

“That’s a lad. I’m afraid I almost used all my reserves.”

Alphard bowed. ’’I’m here to help. It’s all thanks to my dear friend who secured the ingredients.”

“Your friend?” Orion wondered.

“The one friend you seemingly forgot about when you hurtled toward Master Regulus’ shop. You’re a brute Mr Alphard Black,” a new voice drawled as its owner stepped into the shop.

Alphard looked sheepishly at said friend with puppy eyes. ”I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Heir Corvus Fulcran Lestrange reprimanded in a voice that elicited a wry smile from Alphard.

Orion noticed Hespera’s stiffening and couldn’t blame her. Corvus looked a great deal like his eldest, Rodolphus, with the deep Lestrange black eyes and the sharp facial angles.

He remembered how much she suffered at the hands of the Death Eater and his deranged wife and couldn’t begrudge her the reaction she was showing.

Nevertheless, This Corvus was not the one from her memories, at least not yet.

“Heir Orion and ….company,” Corvus inclined his head respectfully, his deep eyes scrutinizing Hespera.

Orion almost scoffed, which would’ve been a slight of manners. He knew of Alphard’s friend since Hogwarts and had heard numerous times of his craftiness. Corvus was trying to place the witch by his side and Orion reckoned that he had no choice.

“Heir Lestrange, this is my fiancée Lady Hespera Peverell,” he offered, taking care to study his reaction.

He wasn’t disappointed when his closed-off face showed nothing. Corvus merely greeted her as per their customs and remained nonchalant while nothing escaped his notice.

“I was heading to lunch with Corvus, why don’t you join us? I didn’t get much time with Hespera last time,’' Alphard asked with startling excitement.

Orion yearned to strangle him, even knowing that his poor cousin was unaware of the storm that must be brewing inside Hespera’s mind.

He turned his head toward his uncle seeking help and sighed.

Regulus had settled his shoulder against one of the bookshelves and folded his arms across his chest. He was watching Hespera as if puzzling about what to make of her. Despite his relaxed posture, Orion had the unnerving sense that he was trying to look into her mind.

However, he knew better. Despite his incessant need for knowledge, Regulus was an honourable man.

The news of his engagement must have unsettled him for the man hated surprises and unplanned coincidences.

Regulus lifted an eyebrow and shrugged imperceptibly. Orion was startled as Hespera tugged at his sleeve and said. ”It would be great. I’d like to learn more about you too Alphard. Heir Lestrange, we may be strangers but we can remedy that.”

Corvus said slowly. ”I admit I’m looking forward to this lunch. You see, none of us was prepared for the sudden appearance of a Peverell. It might give us both the chance to get acquainted before our future Wizengamot dealings.”

Orion sent an icy glare at Alphard who rolled his eyes.

Never let it be said that a Lestrange would let a chance at an alliance slip through their greedy fingers.

He couldn’t deny that the family was powerful and loyal allies to his father but he didn’t want to make Hespera face the demons of her past too soon.

Orion dreaded and wanted this meeting at once. It was time for Hespera to broaden her circle and start building alliances.

The intent green eyes that levelled up Corvus told him she was thinking the same.

Rodolphus, who didn’t even exist yet, was a notorious Death Eater but who said he had to follow the same path again?

He wondered what had pushed the proud Corvus Lestrange to follow a deranged fool like Riddle, but he would work out the details.

Between him and Hespera, and Alphard who was a certain candidate for a scolding later, they would learn everything.

“Come on, I’m starving,” Alphard ushered Corvus out and they followed.

“I’ll be waiting for your answer, niece,” Regulus threw carelessly as he inspected a tiny star chart itched in one of the paintings.

“I won’t keep you waiting for long, Uncle Regulus,” Hespera smirked which elicited a grin on the otherwise stern face.

Perhaps some rigidly bred older wizards would have been shocked by her sauciness, but Regulus was accustomed to unconventional people. He had grown up with his Aunt Lycoris whose amazing brain had never ceased to enliven their lives.

Orion looked at his uncle with a sly grin and winked. Their lives had turned way more interesting with Hespera’s unprompted appearance.

Hespera was enchanted by her reflection in the mirror. She was barely able to recognize herself. Her eyes seemed brighter, creating a dramatic contrast with her pitch-black locks which were arranged, thanks to Lucretia’s hard work, into an elegant chignon.

Her hand ran over her new red robes, a colour she chose with care to honour her blood and the family she was visiting.

Her two rings glowed and the whispers coming from the stone comforted her yet again.

Melania’s mouth curved with a fond smile. ”They will love you. You don’t have to worry, my dear. Dorea will be there too and she was briefed on what transpired a few weeks ago.”

“Charlus is fun and I heard how close he is to Lord Potter,” Lucretia pointed out helpfully.

Hespera was thankful to them. She spent weeks filled with lessons and strolls in Diagon Alley. She met many Black acquaintances, mainly Corvus who she liked, despite his sons’ deeds.

She knew that this man had not fathered the two criminals she despised yet and she wouldn’t let Alphard’s closest friend fall a victim to Voldemort’s thrall.

Alphard…

There was so much to admire about him and she understood her godfather’s fondness of the man.

Unlike his horrible sister, he was kind and hardworking. Orion told her about the struggles he was facing thanks to his father.

Unlike Cygnus, Alphard was not interested in power plays. He inherited Regulus’ genius in Potions and wanted to follow in his footsteps, which was something Pollux mocked.

Regulus helped him as much as he could to obtain his Mastery so his talent wouldn’t go to waste. They were expecting good news soon.

The thought of Alphard and Sirius caused a twinge of something that felt like mourning. Although she was glad that she had started over, she still missed the ones she lost, mainly Sirius.

It didn’t seem entirely fair that she, who got a chance that many dreamed of and never received, wanted to have everything at once.

She couldn’t fathom how long it would take for the outcome to become different from the previous time, but she was resolved to make it happen.

Kreacher popped in and his face shone with elation the moment their eyes locked. ”Mistress Hespera, Master Orion is waiting for you. He says that Master doesn’t want to be late for this meeting. It would look bad on Master and Mistress.”

Lucretia laughed at his eagerness and Melania pipped in. ’’He’s a wonderful companion. Hespera is lucky to have him.”

Kreacher glowed at the praise and Hespera smiled down at him. ’’Tell Orion I’m ready.”

He nodded eagerly and popped away.

Melania must have caught on to her nervousness. She held her hand gently and she was inundated in warmth.

“They will love you, I’m sure they will,” she whispered.

Feeling foolish and hot and off balance, Hespera kissed her cheek, then hugged Lucretia and left.

--

Hespera glanced around with chagrin as they apparated in front of Potter Manor.

The house elf that greeted them, whose name she didn’t catch, escorted them inside and she couldn’t stop her heart from beating wildly.

Orion adroitly kept her hand in his grasp and she was thankful.

By the time they reached their destination, she wanted to squirm and pull at the sleeves of her robes, an action that would warrant Melania’s displeasure for a Lady was not permitted to look anything but refined at all times.

Tears clogged her throat as she got her first look at her grandparents, who stood facing them. There was another couple behind, Charlus and Dorea undoubtedly, but she didn't care.

Lord Fleamont Hadrian Potter was a tall man. It was difficult to ascertain his age but he appeared to be on the early side of his thirties. There was an air of self-confidence about him, a sense that he had seen enough of life to cease being surprised by anything. He didn’t seem like someone you would want to trifle with.

He had heavy, wild hair, black as midnight, and a fair complexion in which his dark brows stood out in striking contrast. He reminded her of her father, mainly the hazel eyes and the sharp angle of his jaw.

Unlike her father, he anchored the grave features of a man who wouldn’t hesitate to take on the world.

Hespera flushed as she stared into his amused eyes. It seemed he noticed her scrutiny.

They both remained still while scores of questions filled the air between them as if they had been written in invisible ink.

“My dear?” the woman to his side nudged him and he cleared his throat. She was a petite blonde with startling dark eyes.

When she spoke, her voice was gentle. ’’Welcome to Potter Manor Lady Peverell. I can’t tell you how pleased we were when we received your letter.”

Euphemia Potter curtsied and Hespera inclined her head. It was customary for a Lady of lower rank to show respect to those with higher status.

As Lady Peverell, Hespera would bow to no witch.

“Thank you Lady Potter and you may address me by my given name.”

“Lovely, it would cement the feeling of kinship,” Euphemia grinned and looked up at her husband.

Fleamont Potter greeted her and the moment their magics grazed against each other, she shuddered with euphoria.

He felt like a home she had never known.

“Lady Peverell, what a pleasure to know that I have a cousin who was somehow hidden away. There are very few of us and it gladdens me that you are here.”

‘’The feeling is mutual and please, call me Hespera,” she assured him cheerfully, despite the tears burning behind her lids.

Pleasure suffused her until she shook with it from head to toe. She forced herself to concentrate on the moment, grateful that Orion was keeping her steady even though her heart was charging and halting like a mad Hippogriff.

“Please come inside,” Euphemia offered and they were introduced to the second couple.

“This is my cousin Mr Charlus Henry Potter and his wife Mrs Dorea Black Potter,” Fleamont said.

Charlus interrupted before he could say another word. ’’She said enough with the formalities. Do you have to be so stiff Fleamont? We have a cousin, can you believe that?”

There was a great deal of energy seeping from the man’s magic and Hespera knew that he wasn’t one to remain idle.

“Charlus,” Dorea chided but she discerned her amusement.

“Welcome to the family Hespera. Orion, it’s always good to see you.” Charlus kissed her hand and Orion did likewise with Dorea.

“Please, take a seat,” Euphemia showed them to the comfortable sofa and Hespera sat next to Orion.

He looked at her for a fleeting moment before he started. ”Like we mentioned in the letter, Hespera was informed of her Ladyship recently. When she took the test, it showed that she has you as a kin. “

Fleamont replied immediately. ”The Peverells are our ancestors. Iolanthe Peverell, the granddaughter of Ignotus Peverell, married Hardwin Potter. Due to the lack of male heirs, she was entrusted with the burden of guarding the Cloak of Invisibility. However, we were taught from young age that it wasn’t ours. We had to give it back when the rightful owner emerged and asked for it.”

He gave Hespera a piercing glance, his smile in place. ’’Now that you’re here Hespera, you will have your Heirloom back.”

“And we’re the winners here. I was getting sick of this annoying wizard. It feels good to learn that I have an enchanting Lady as yourself for a cousin,” Charlus Potter butted in again and flushed at the light rebuke his wife gifted him.

“But…” he protested.

“That’s it,” Dorea insisted and a brief chuckle escaped Hespera’s throat. She leaned against Orion’s side and his hand moved over her upper back in a calming circle.

This was what she was denied all her life; the love, the warmth, the banter…

The Potters.

“Are you alright?” Orion whispered for her ears only, no doubt catching on her turmoil, and she murmured her assent and allowed him to distract their hosts while she regained her composure.

Her eyes locked with Dorea’s and the woman lifted an eyebrow. Her eyes reminded her of Arcturus’. They were sharp and way too clever.

“Hespera?” Fleamont called for her and she faced her grandfather, starting what was a conversation she never dreamed she could have.

The way he listened to her was so very flattering, so careful and interested as if he were collecting her words like flowers to be pressed in a book. “I see,” he said. “I'll do whatever I can to help. Dumbledore has no right to usurp our ancestors’ belongings.”

Hespera was overwhelmed.

He swiftly took her side with no questions, no arguments and no complaints.

“You seem surprised,” Dorea noted and Charlus snorted.

“We are the Potters, my dear. We believe exclusively in two things: Magic and Family. It may seem surprising that we accepted you as soon as we learned of your existence, but this is our way of life.” Hespera couldn’t hold the single tear that left her eye and ran down her cheek after hearing the conviction in her great uncle’s voice.

Euphemia stood up and leaned over her. She put a hand over her heart and kissed her forehead, reminding her of Melania who enjoyed kissing the same spot.

“Welcome to the family.”

The sound of her indrawn breath cut through the air like the downward arc of a sword’s swing and she heard the gasps emitted from her companions.

Gently, Orion’s hand came to cradle the back of her head. ’’Your magic is free Hespera. We can feel it,” he breathed, sounding puzzled.

Closing her eyes, she felt it too. The Peverell cold magic was filling the room. However, it wasn’t looking to hurt and maim, it was greeting those it recognized as kin, people to shield and protect.

“Good Godric…Your magic declared us kin…you’re amazing Hespera!” Charlus Potter exclaimed and even the stern Dorea did not admonish him. She looked amazed as well.

“You’re my family,” Hespera declared the truth that she had always known but never got the chance to express.

They were but stories she heard, a figment of her imagination. Now, she had them with her and they would work together to build a better future.

To save all those who should have been saved before it was too late.

A strange new pleasure spread through her and lit every nerve ending like a succession of tiny birthday candles and a wide grin spread across her face.

Fleamont surprised her as he knelt and presented the fabled Cloak with something akin to reverence.

‘’This is yours. We guarded the treasure to the best of our ability, now that our mission is fulfilled with honour; we return what does not belong to us,” Fleamont declared, his voice seeping with the pride only a Potter can manage.

Hespera took it thankfully and her magic sang at the first contact. Her ancestor’s cloak dripped with the warmth of a mother’s hug and her heart squeezed with gratitude as she remembered how many times it saved her life.

Fleamont stood slowly and took his seat next to Charlus. ”Dumbledore slighted you, so he slighted us. We have to take back what he stole.”

Charlus rolled his eyes and scoffed. ”I told you I don’t trust the man. How can I with the way his eyes twinkle ceaselessly?”

Dorea glanced at her, a resolved expression on her face. ”I think it’s time to even the odds.” Her voice was calm and soothing as she turned toward Fleamont. ”It’s time the Wizengamot remembered the might of the Potters.”

Fleamont took his wife’s hand in his and smirked.

It was disturbing how much it reminded her of her father’s smirk, the one that screamed trouble.

Chapter Text

As soon as the doors were closed, Lucretia rushed in and threw herself on the bed.

At first, Hespera thought she was crying and intended to comfort her but instead, Lucretia pulled her close, her shoulders trembling with mirth, and hugged her.

“Lucretia…” Hespera tried, puzzled by the older girl’s peculiar behaviour.

“My dear sister, you did! It was brilliant. I wish you were there to behold the sight of Walburga’s face,” Lucretia explained in a muffled voice. ‘’I waited too long for this day and I plan to revisit the memory over and over again. Father has a Pensive, so it won’t be a problem.”

“What are you talking about?” Hespera tried again, twisting away from her.

“Oh, I'm sorry but I can’t help myself,” Lucretia choked with giggles.

Finally, she managed to compose herself and smiled. ”Guess who I met today? Walburga! I was enjoying an afternoon stroll with Ione Selwyn Malfoy, my friend that I plan to introduce you to later when the horrible trollop barged in and tried to ruin my day as usual. Thankfully, I’m no longer defenceless. I had the right weapon to ruin her. You, my dear sister. The mention of your betrothal and how great you are, how Orion choose you over her was enough to humiliate the harpy. I admit that Ione helped a bit. Sweet Salazar, it was a glorious experience that needs a repeat. I wish you weren’t so busy with the preparations for the Wizengamot, otherwise, you would have shared all this goodness with me.”

“Really?” Hespera stared at her in fascination, unable to smother her vindictive smirk. “Come to think of it, I regret turning down your invitation. I could always ask Orion for whatever I need later.”

Lucretia gave her a meaningful look. ’’Of course, you can. Orion will refuse you nothing; he’s your most ardent servant.”

Hespera tried to scamper off and hide her reddening cheeks. The reference to their budding feelings caused a delicate play of emotions on her face, humour fading to awkwardness.

Lucretia shook her head and gazed at her. ”You make him happy. I’ve never seen my brother this…alive. He seems like a completely different man.”

“Orion is a good man,” Hespera offered softly.

“That he is. And I will need you to work more on that goodness so I can benefit from it.”

“Benefit from it?” Hespera gave her a curious glance.

Lucretia blushed faintly and nodded. Hespera wondered what could make the brazen witch look uncomfortable and only one thought seemed like the right answer.

“Don’t tell me you have...”

Lucretia hissed. ’’Shhh. We don’t know who may barge in,”

Hespera sighed and with a little wave of her hand, set the strongest silencing ward there is.

Lucretia’s eyes widened for a split minute. She mumbled. ’’You’re a tease,” before she said a bit too quickly, her hand raised to her heat-infused cheeks. ”I’m seeing Heir Ignatius Prewett. We developed feelings for each other since our Hogwarts days and kept in touch all these years. His family is Light and not that powerful, and I’m sure that they’re in Dumbledore’s pocket that’s why I couldn’t broach the matter with Father before. Now that I have you, plus Orion, we can convince him to agree to a betrothal.”

While Lucretia looked at her expectantly, Hespera’s mind was trying to place the name.

She heard it before. He was the last Lord Prewett, Molly, Gideon and Fabian’s uncle. After the death of the twins, Charlie should’ve inherited his title but Molly didn’t believe in the importance of representing a Noble family in the Wizengamot, and did not see any good in the Pureblood politics, something Hespera intended to change.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, smiling at Lucretia.

She had never seen the bold girl so anxious and it was endearing. It reminded her that the Dark family that was feared by most was a normal family with men and women that could love deeply and feel longing, happiness and pain.

She remembered her vow before she embarked on this new adventure; she would protect Sirius’ family at all costs and assure their happiness.

Walburga and her father were an exception. She was sure that they were plotting something for someone as rotten as Pollux would never accept defeat gracefully.

Cygnus was another matter. He was an unknown that she planned to explore after taking care of the first Wizengamot session.

“Too many plans, too little time Mistress. I suggest you concentrate on tomorrow first. Did you know that Dumbledore never stopped looking for a way to control me? All his talk about Death being the next great adventure is rubbish. He only confronted Gellert Grindelwald after he received information that he usurped the wand from Gregorovitch. He even tricked your father into giving him the Cloak temporarily for inspection, when he knew what Tom intended. The Stone was the only Hallow he didn’t want. He couldn’t confront Ariana, his guilt was too great. Believe me, The whole issue of his credibility is open to question. He used to be a man with a good vision but had lost the way long ago,”

As if his words needed emphasis, Death repeated softly. “He’s a lost cause Hespera, you have to remain unwavering in your stance. The British Wizarding World is counting on you and I need my revenge on Tom Riddle. Don’t let your kind heart lead you astray.”

‘Bloody Hell!’ Hespera thought, wondering what the bastard was doing talking to her while Lucretia was scrutinizing her face.

She was at a loss for what to feel. All her world was turned upside down again. She gathered that Dumbledore was not as trustworthy as he seemed, but to go to such lengths, and sacrifice as many innocents, to achieve what he wanted was inconceivable.

“Hespera, you look pale all of a sudden. Are you alright? Did Orion tire you with his politics lessons?” Lucretia rubbed her upper arms and she forced a smile.

“I’m fine. I’m just nervous about tomorrow.”

Lucretia scoffed. ”Why would you be? You are a queen among commoners. You don’t have to care about what they think of you, you’re holding the reins and they have to listen and obey.”

Hespera took a deep breath:’’But the Wizengamot is a war zone and as Lady Peverell, my responsibility is great. The hawks will be surveying my every move, waiting for me to fail. I can’t lose, not again,” her last words were whispered and she doubted that Lucretia heard them.

Lucretia gave her a charming smile, deliberately dispelling the tension. ”Just tell them that you’re Lady Peverell and be done with it. It lacks subtlety and is something that Father won’t probably agree to, but it will hasten the proceedings considerably, won’t it? They can’t expect you to perfect what they spent years learning in a couple of weeks.”

Hespera couldn’t smother her snort and Lucretia seemed relieved by the uplifting of her mood.

She brushed at the free locks of hair tumbling over her shoulders straightening them and said. ”Politics were never my forte, thank Merlin that I’m not the Heir. All that I yearn for is to build a family of my own, with Ignatius hopefully, and enjoy the simple pleasures this life can offer. Maybe it’s due to the family drama I witnessed since I was young, but I want a peaceful life, way removed from the spotlight. You, my dear, are destined for something greater. I remember my genealogy lessons well. The emergence of a Peverell is no small deal. You have to be chosen by the fabled Lordship ring to carry the title and every impostor will die if he forces the bond. There are few Peverells and even fewer who are picked for such honour. Some say that Death is the one who selects you but no one knows. The Peverells’ secrets are harder to extract than a freely given drop of blood from a Unicorn.”

Hespera shook her head. Leave it to Lucretia to brush against such topics so breezily, but she could hear the truth seeping from her words.

In her past life, she knew close to nothing about the woman other than that she married a Prewett and was a kind aunt to Sirius until Walburga forbade all visits declaring the Prewetts Blood Traitors and unworthy.

“Thank you for everything,” she clasped Lucretia’s hand. “You’ve been a great help all these weeks.”

“No, thank you for saving Ori from that horrid strumpet. She would’ve ruined his life,” Lucretia scrunched her face and Hespera burst out laughing.

Truer words had never been uttered .

--

Hespera’s thoughts were still coursing too slowly as she followed Lord Black inside the Ministry of Magic. Orion was walking by her side and despite his cold as-ice exterior; she knew that he was looking forward to this session.

Hespera remembered lying on the Forbidden Forest’s ground, at the mercy of Voldemort and every Death Eater who crawled behind him and swore that she wouldn’t let that happen again.

“I’m ready,’’ she whispered.

“I know,” Orion breathed calmly and she felt his words playing softly in her ear.

Arcturus stopped abruptly and following his gaze, she understood why. Fleamont Potter, accompanied by Charlus, was heading their way.

“Greetings Lord Black,” Fleamont started and Arcturus shook his hand.

“Greetings Lord Potter and thank you for agreeing to my Heir and Lady Peverell’s unprompted request for a meeting.”

“Lady Peverell is my cousin and the Potter Manor is her home. She‘s always welcome,” Fleamont smiled.

He bowed to her and kissed her hand.

“Thank you.” Hespera grinned, relishing in the nearness of her grandfather.

“Euphemia sends her encouragement. I’m sure she’s waiting to hear the outcome of this session,” he chuckled.

“As is Dorea. I believe that if she didn’t has work in St Mungo’s today, nothing would’ve stopped her from joining us,” Charlus Potter snickered.

“Why I am not surprised? Dorea never liked Dumbledore,'’ Arcturus interjected smoothly.

“And for a good reason as it was revealed,” Fleamont gave her a meaningful look and she nodded fleetingly.

“Alphard?” Orion sounded surprised.

Hespera turned as well and beheld the sight of a serene Alphard standing next to Heir Corvus Lestrange.

He greeted the Lords before he kissed her hand. ’’Lady Peverell, I believe that today’s session is going to be interesting.” Mischief flickered in his deep black eyes and Alphard barely managed to stifle his snort.

“And I’m thankful that I am here to witness the show. I…” he stopped abruptly and stiffened.

Hespera looked at him questioningly. However, she didn’t have to wait for long. Orion took a step closer to her as Pollux Black, accompanied by Cygnus headed their way.

Pollux’s dark grey eyes levelled her up before his eyes sought Arcturus. Hespera was startled when Fleamont stood to her other side as if shielding her.

“Greetings Lady Peverell, Lord Black, Lord Potter, Heir Black, Heir Lestrange, ” Pollux drawled nonchalantly and she noticed that he ignored his son and Charlus, who didn’t seem bothered.

“Mr Black,” Fleamont offered coolly.

“I believe it had been a while since you joined the Blacks. I hope that this is the start of a solid alliance,” Pollux added.

“I have no quarrels with your family Mr Black, quite the opposite. I don’t need to remind you that Charlus is married to your sister and now, Heir Black is betrothed to my cousin. I see nothing but a common future for our families,” Fleamont replied, his voice carrying the weight of his intention.

Hespera suppressed a snicker. Never let it be said that a Potter would cower in front of a challenge.

It seemed that Arcturus sensed the sour mood associated with Pollux’ appearance. He cleared his throat and interceded for everyone. ”We shall get inside.”

Orion nodded and escorted her inside. Fleamont didn’t leave her side while Alphard, Cygnus, Pollux and Charlus headed toward the guests' stands.

Corvus Lestrange, who witnessed the heated exchange amusedly, bowed and took his leave.

Hespera took a deep breath as she stepped into the huge chambers. Memories of her fourth year assaulted her and she reinforced her resolve to never let the injustice she was dealt with see a repeat.

She was not that helpless defenceless girl anymore.

“That’s the spirit, Mistress. Show these bastards your might, show them what you’re made of,” Death murmured in a pleased voice and she swore that she could taste his anticipation.

She wondered how could he have this much free time.

“I’m a Deity, I do as I please. Of course, I don’t take care of the menial tasks, I have a horde of minions for that. Not to mention that I am always eager for some mayhem. I see some souls I want to collect soon but it doesn’t matter, at least not now. I’m here for you today.”

“I’m not sure how to feel about your enthusiasm,” Hespera sighed under her breath.

A chill went down her back as she noticed the numerous eyes that followed her, trying to place her.

She ignored her unease and sauntered lazily to the front of the room and stepped in front of the high dais.

The sight of a younger Dumbledore unsettled her, yet she refused to lower her gaze. He was sitting next to Wilhemina Tuft, the current Minster of Magic. On the other side, was Hector Fawley, the Chief Warlock.

She knew that he wouldn’t get the title until 1955, which gave her some time to unveil his truth before he gained more power. He has no right to involve himself in other peoples’ affairs. She loathed how he liked to give advice and spent so much time considering problems that didn’t concern him.

He was already Wizarding Britain’s Savior and the unbeatable leader of the Light and it was time to stop him.

She didn’t lower her head as she addressed the Minister. ”Honorable Minister of Magic, I would like to take my seat officially.”

Murmurs and gasps filled the room before silence descended on them.

The Minister managed to recover first. ”I believe that all the families belonging to the Sacred Twenty-Eight and the minor Noble families are represented. Do you have your Gringotts' inheritance papers, Miss…”

Hespera didn’t answer; instead, she offered the papers she acquired from Gringotts. She recognized the moment Minister Tuft read her name and recognized the coat of arms.

“Lady Peverell,” She struggled to pronounce the name.

Hespera noticed the way Dumbledore’s face paled. Lord Fawley on the other hand, snatched the parchment and inspected it carefully.

“I see no problem with that. These papers are signed by Director Ragnok,” he added.

“And I have my family ring,” Hespera raised her hand and chaos started.

“Lady Peverell…”

“Who would’ve thought that we’d see a Peverell again…”

“Where was she all these years…”

“Did you see her ring? Do you think the legend is true?”

“Silence!” Lord Fawley shouted. He cleared his throat and addressed her. ”You may take your seat Lady Peverell, it’s your right, and welcome to the Wizengamot.”

Hespera nodded but before she could take a step, Dumbledore spoke sounding impressed. “Welcome to the Wizengamot Lady Peverell. However, I can’t help but wonder, where have you been all these years? You didn’t even join Hogwarts.”

Hespera froze, her blood burning like molten lava. She didn’t want to start her first session with a confrontation and didn’t want to talk to him too soon.

“My whereabouts are not for everyone to know Mr Dumbledore. I can assure you that I had good schooling. Hogwarts is not the only magical school in the world as you certainly know.”

He raised his brows as if he wasn’t used to people turning down his prying.

“I apologize if I was intrusive, I mean no harm. But I can’t help but be surprised by your sudden appearance,” he tried smoothly, not fooling her at all.

She gave Orion a side look and he sent her a barely-there smile.

“Dumbledore…” Minister Tuft gritted her teeth. ‘’I believe…”

Hespera raised her hand. ”No need Minister. I am aware of Mr Dumbledore’s thirst for knowledge so I am not surprised.”

Giving the older man her full attention, she smirked. ”Are you sure you never heard of the Peverells? I was informed that you spent years studying my family.”

He seemed alarmed by her outburst, but like usual, he waved her off. ”The Peverells had always been fascinating. You can’t deny that they’re the most secretive and eluding Wizarding family.”

“But that doesn’t give you the right to pry. Our secrets are ours to keep; otherwise, we wouldn’t guard them so ardently,”

he smiled wryly. ”You are indeed Lady Peverell. All this talk about secrets confirms your identity. I assure you that my intentions are righteous, all I want is to use whatever means to protect the Wizarding World. It’s for the greater good, my dear.”

“Oh, no…” Death snickered.

Keeping her calm was a gruelling endeavour, but Hespera, like always, managed.

She raised her chin, resting the hand embellished by her rings atop the other. The Resurrection Stone glinted against her pale skin and she perceived the way Dumbledore seemed enthralled by it.

“The Wizarding World is not your responsibility Mr Dumbledore. Every witch and wizard worthy of their names will defend it until their last breath. As for my family, I advise you to quit your research at once. In fact, I believe I need assistance from my dear cousin Lord Fleamont Potter to confirm a matter of utmost importance.’’

Everyone was flabbergasted by her strange behaviour, but she didn’t care.

With the grace of a panther, Fleamont stood by her side.

“And you will always have any assistance you need from me, Lady Peverell,” he said dryly.

“Thank you,” Hespera smiled and turned back toward Dumbledore. ”Not long ago, Director Ragnok asked you to give back an item that belongs to my family and you refused. What’s your reason, Mr Dumbledore? Everyone knows that family heirlooms should be kept in the goblins’ custody until the rightful Heir emerges and claims them. Exceptions can be made, but only if the Lord or Lady of the family is the one to bequeath such honour to some cousins or branches of the main family.”

Fleamont gestured loosely to their surroundings. ”I suggest you answer truthfully, Mr Dumbledore. I can ask for a Truth Oath if you don’t cooperate and you know that you can’t refuse.”

“I…” Dumbledore looked affronted.

“What’s going on here?” Minister Tuft said in a strong voice, sounding exceedingly annoyed.

“I need something back from Mr Dumbledore and he will give it to me now,” were Hespera’s heated words.

“I stole nothing from you Lady Peverell. How can I when this is the first time I met you?” his face was blank as he took a speculative pause before he added. ”Everything I have was bought with my own money or won fairly.”

“Some things can never be owned. Mainly family Heirlooms,” came Fleamont’s unhesitating reply.

Honor was the Potters' middle name and no one could question it.

“Mr Dumbledore, I don’t want to resort to extreme measures but you’re forcing my hand. My patience has limits,” she was so serious while trying to manage everyone in her sphere.

It was an ungodly temptation to make everyone see the new her, the Hespera Peverell that didn’t shy from using force to get what she wanted.

She could, if she wished, make them all bow and knowing that made it all the more difficult to stay put.

The tenacious connections she had formed with the Blacks and the others in her family in the past weeks, the extent she would go to take care of them…

It appealed to her on an instinctual level and made her feel invincible.

She was aware of the argument that broke between some Light and Dark Lords witnessing the battle of wills between her and Wizarding Britain’s Savior, but she didn’t deem it worthy of her attention.

“Make your choice,” she smiled, handing Dumbledore one last chance.

She used to respect the man, no, to worship him. He was her hero, her mentor. But seeing him like that, all greedy and lying…It showed her a facet she never wanted to know.

Was everything a lie?

Was his interest in her mainly because she was the child of the prophecy?

Dumbledore finally stood and all joviality left his twinkling eyes. ”I can’t help but feel threatened, Lady Peverell. I don’t know what prompted this stance but I can’t accept it.”

She heard Fleamont’s sigh before he took a step forward. Hespera hold him with a raised hand and shook her head.

“Do it, he’s not worthy of your time,” a new voice came from behind her and warmth seethed in her heart as Orion took her other side.

“Heir Black, what are you doing here?” Lord Fawley snapped.

“I am here as Lady Peverell’s betrothed,” Orion answered coldly and despite the circumstances, she noticed the shock that coloured Dumbledore’s face.

“Lady Peverell. I think…” Dumbledore started again.

“Your funereal,” Hespera mumbled, then raised her hand seeking the last Hallow.

The Elder Wand flew from his robes’ pocket and soared her way. He tried to summon it with his wandless magic, but no one could separate a Peverell from his birthright.

Hespera swore that she heard Death’s sigh in her head.

She knew that she didn’t need a wand anymore, her magic was finally free; a breathing and thinking entity that flowed down her veins, with her life force.

She was naive before. She thought of magic as something to call for when in need, to struggle to control and guide according to one’s situation. But Death’s lessons, and the whole trial she went through, showed her how wrong she was.

Magic was a crucial part of every Wiccan, like air and blood, they needed it to live and thrive. It was woven with their souls, it was their blessing and their pride.

She closed her fingers around her wand and heard its thrilled whispers.

How many lives had been lost for the Death Stick? How many wars were waged to control it? How many Peverells were slaughtered?

But no more. She would guard it with her life and no one, but her Heir would have it when she joined Death one last time.

“As you wish, Mistress, ” was Death’s pledge, and she smiled ignoring the chaos surrounding her.

Chapter Text

Orion took the Heir seat next to his father and braced himself for what was to come.

His eyes flickered over Hespera’s relaxed stance and pride filled his heart.

The last couple of weeks were gruelling for the amazing young woman. She had to learn as much as was achievable about the Wizengamot regulations, the old families, The Sacred Twenty Eight and the Three Factions.

As Lady Peverell, failure or ignorance were not an option.

They understood that the moment her identity was revealed, all the predators lurking in the shadows would pounce looking for a weakness.

Her lone figure stood proudly facing the three occupants of the higher dais and Orion’s eyes flew to the man sitting next to Minister Tuft.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; the man who would ruin many lives and many Noble Houses, going as far as making some extinct.

His silver-grey eyes hardened with alertness as he noticed the way he was looking at Hespera, no wonder trying to grasp something, anything about the young woman who dared interrupt the session.

Orion knew that since they stepped into the Ministry building, people didn’t stop glancing at her furtively. But they weren’t as daring as Dumbledore, they passed them without breaking pace.

No British wizard well educated in their ways had the temerity to ogle a woman declared under the protection of House Black, and a Lady at that, it was a severe breach of manners and a travesty, maybe more considering that it slighted his House and his future wife.

But Dumbledore was no gentleman and no staunch follower of their Ways. He ignored their traditions and laughed in Mother Magic’s face with every choice he made.

He was familiar with the schemes he used to prey upon the unwary, the efficient tactics he plied to get what he wanted and rob whoever he considered a hindrance of their integrity, sometimes their very life.

The memories Hespera gifted him cemented that belief and invigorated him to fight harder against the hazardous man.

Gradually, he became aware of the cold that seeped through his veins due to his turbulent thoughts.

Something about it caused a warning prickle along his spine, and without losing another moment, he slid his hands into his pockets.

His claws pricked painfully under his skin and the beast thrashed and howled, looking for an outlet.

Orion closed his eyes and checked on his mental shields. They were as perfect as ever.

The Dark Magic he inherited from his ancestors hummed with excitement, sadly it was the wrong time to explore what was going on with him more thoroughly.

He distinguished how his beast became closer to the surface since Hespera landed in his room a few weeks ago.

He was of the mind that the two matters were somehow connected. However, he didn’t get enough free time to ponder over the puzzle.

As expected, Hespera made her move.

Swiftly, she addressed the Minister, ignoring Dumbledore, and handed her the Gringotts' identity papers.

He barely heard his father’s covered-up snort when the name that was lost for centuries was pronounced.

“Lady Peverell.”

Relying on instinct, and years of training, Orion kept his expression as bored as ever while his sharp eyes studied the audience.

Some gave muffled gasps of surprise and staggered back, mainly Dumbledore’s entrenched followers with the ingrained belief that the emergence of a Peverell was an omen of Death, considering the legends they were tied to.

Lord Harfang Longbottom looked at his blood brother.

Fleamont Potter smirked and Harfang shook his head exasperatedly and leaned back on his chair, looking more at ease. He was his aunt Callidora’s husband, and a close friend to his father, but everyone knew where his true loyalty lay.

The Longbottoms were inherently Light, and the sworn blood brothers of the Potters.

Lord Robert Bones’ nostrils flared, but he remained still waiting for the outcome of this thunderbolt.

He wasn’t surprised when Lord Caldwell Diggory’s eyes narrowed. Everyone knew how close he was with Dumbledore along with the Diggles, the Fenwicks and the Dearborns.

Thankfully, most of them belonged to minor families and Noble Houses. However, that didn’t make their threat any less.

His father had a meeting with his closest allies before this session, so he wasn’t astounded when Lord Burke, Lord Greengrass and Lord Avery didn’t seem startled by the revelation.

Lord Tiberius Nott, on the other hand, whipped his head around looking for Lord Bulstrode, Lord Crabbe and Lord Goyle.

He was a despicable old coot with a nasty temper and Arcturus Black flattered no one, nor could he stand ‘primps’ like he liked to call whoever he scorned, hence the bad blood between the two families.

Corvus was whispering something to Lord Fulcran Lestrange and the older man nodded.

The Lestranges were the craftiest bastards he knew of, no wonder they would look for a stronger ally.

Before he could carry on with his observations, unease crawled over his body and he sensed the shift in the air.

He stopped to read through the faces and looked up.

Peering through his spectacles, Dumbledore’s body language changed quickly from nonplussed to…greedy and maybe a bit angry.

He leaned closer and pored over the papers offered to Minister Tuft.

He recognized the moment he figured out the truth, that he was indeed in the presence of the last descendant of House Peverell.

Orion waited to see what would happen and wasn’t disappointed when Dumbledore delivered.

Before Hespera could join them and take her seat, the bloody fool opened his mouth and asked about her whereabouts.

“Merlin’s Mercy, the man has no tact,” Arcturus murmured under his breath and he agreed wholeheartedly.

Personal information was…personal. It was an unwritten rule to never pry when you were not wanted.

It was basic human etiquette to never explain personal matters to outsiders. It misled them into thinking they were entitled to know everything which was unthinkable.

Every House, minor be it or Sacred was accredited its secrets and private affairs.

Dumbledore fumbled for a witty rejoinder, but none worked with his girl.

Pride filled his very being and he was at a loss to comprehend why this young woman, in her intelligent prickly innocence, had captivated him so thoroughly.

All he knew was a fierce longing to reach something in her, to strip away all her defences and engulf her with the burning flames licking at his skin.

His throat cinched around a thick breath and without asking for his Lord’s permission, he stood and joined her.

He knew that she was infallible, and most definitely did not need his help, but the sight of Fleamont Potter standing by her side stirred something in him.

“Heir Black, what are you doing here?” Lord Fawley snapped.

Orion identified himself as Hespera’s betrothed and enjoyed the second blow Dumbledore was dealt.

The man should think twice before challenging a Lady of the Sacred Twenty Eight with two Ancient Houses backing her publicly.

To his amazement, the fool refused to hand over the heirloom.

Dumbledore was as sly as they came and understood very well what Hespera was playing at.

It was beyond question that the Elder Wand was an invaluable magical artifact, but to confess theft in the presence of the peerage was suicide.

He knew what Hespera was about to do even before she raised her hand.

Silence descended on the colossal chambers when the Death Stick floated toward its rightful owner.

The echoes of the audience’s gasps died away and he turned subtly to view the results of Hespera’s act of defiance.

Dumbledore almost toppled over with a gurgling noise, His face was ashen pale, but his eyes were as sharp as ever.

“Lady Peverell, give me my wand back,” the brazen man extended his hand, waiting.

“What’s going on here?” Minister Tuft finally stood. It seemed she understood the flagrant violation of the law they were dealing with.

“Mr Dumbledore kept, illegally, a family heirloom for his personal use, despite being warned by the goblins,” Hespera explained calmly.

“What!” shouts of outrage filled the room.

“This is unacceptable…”

“Such blatant disregard of the laws…”

“She’s lying! Dumbledore would never do something so dreadful.” Orion recognized Diggory’s voice and was hardly taken aback.

“Diggory is right, we don’t know this girl. To dare and accuse Dumbledore…” another joined in.

“Silence!” Lord Fawley shouted. ‘’Whoever interrupts again will have to leave at once.’’

The protesting voices seemed to melt away in the silence that followed like a ghost.

Dumbledore’s face dripped resignation as he took a step forward and asked again. ”My wand, Lady Peverell. I won it fair and square.”

Fleamont Potter mumbled under his breath. ”What a nuisance, I believe I’ll miss dinner tonight.”

Minister Tuft Peered down at them with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. ”We have to get to the bottom of this. Lady Peverell, would you explain first?”

Hespera nodded and her grip became like iron around the wand. ”As you know, we Peverells like our privacy. Whenever one of us is born, the family keeps the news under wraps. Only a few of us remained and we privileged our safety over mingling with our peers, hence our disappearance,” she gave a sardonic smile before she added. ”Peverells are a greedy bunch, our secrets are ours alone and even death can’t pry an answer out of our lips when we say no. My life before today is no one’s business, what matters is that I’m among you now, to take my rightful place and add my voice to my fellow Lords and Ladies.”

Many jaws went slack at Hespera’s heated speech.

She confirmed some of the legends pertaining the Peverells and subtly, warned anyone who wanted to venture into unauthorized territories.

Orion smothered his smirk when more than a witness paled drastically.

To bracket the Peverells and death in one sentence never sat well with most.

Hespera grasped the one-of-a-kind handle of her wand, and it emitted dark sparks.

“This wand is my birthright, passed down into our family for generations. When we opted to stay away from the spotlight, we trusted the goblins with guarding our possessions. My ancestors’ wand was sadly stolen until it landed in Grindelwand’s hands. When Dumbledore won the famous duel, it changed its allegiance temporarily and he thought that he earned it truly. Director Ragnok asked for it because he knew that we’ll come back eventually and seek it, yet he refused. Tell me, Minister, isn’t this a blatant breach of our sacred laws?”

“Lady Peverell, we heard your complaint,” the Minister said gruffly, her eyes shooting daggers at Dumbledore before she motioned for him to answer.

Dumbledore’s eyes burned with blue fire, all the years of fooling Wizarding Britain dropping away to reveal his true self.

Orion hovered over Hespera’s shoulder, eyeing the man carefully.

He knew that he wasn’t a fool to threaten or attack her publicly, but he would never leave something as precious as her safety to chance.

It seemed Fleamont was of a similar mind. He got closer to her and his hazel eyes darkened to deep brown.

Dumbledore’s face wreathed in surprise at the stance they took, it was so telling.

“As Lady Peverell mentioned, I won that wand in my duel against Grindelwald fairly. The wand became mine and I seldom touched the one I purchased when I received my Hogwarts letter. I believe that everyone knows this bit about Wandlore, wands are temperamental artifacts, they don’t follow the laws of possession as we know them. The Peverells' wand is the fiercest, only those who won her allegiance in a fight can control it. Director Ragnok asked for it but I refused to hand it over. It’s a crime to let such fabulous creation wither at the bottom of Gringotts when no one but me can control it. No one knew if a Peverell would emerge again. And even if they did, the wand’s fealty is to me.”

Merlin’s Mercy, was this man for real ? Orion wondered exasperatedly.

“Of course, Mr Dumbledore would defend his actions. But tell me, Minister, won’t his act of defiance set a bad example? How can we guard our family heirlooms if any outsider can claim them by the right of conquest?” Fleamont Potter said sharply.

“I second my blood brother,” Harfang Longbottom stood.

“I said…” Lord Fawley snapped.

“Where the Potter goes the Longbottom follows, no one can stop me from backing up Fleamont,” Harfang shrugged, but Orion discerned his pursued lips.

“And I agree. We cannot accept this claim. Dumbledore’s argument is inadmissible,” Abraxas Malfoy finally stood and reproved the Minister lazily.

He was his old housemate and one he thought he could one day consider a close friend, yet the interference of Tom Riddle changed many a thing.

Abraxas was ambitious, like every Malfoy worthy of his name. After his father’s death, the man he believed was capable of kindness, became cynical and sometimes, cruel.

At first, he related that to his grieving. Malfoys never showed weakness, it was an unbreakable rule, but then he noticed the amount of time he spent with Riddle and Nott.

Hespera’s memories confirmed his suspicions. The proud man fell into Voldemort’s trap and lost what little goodness had remained despite his harsh upbringing and cunning nature.

But to take their side now of all times was a declaration of a possible future alliance.

He wondered if Hespera’s impromptu appearance would change more events and steer the future in a completely different direction.

What mattered to him was that he would protect the Blacks at all costs, their safety was his priority.

“Nonsense,” Diggory interrupted firmly. ‘’The right of contest is as old as time itself. Can you tell me where were the Peverells when we were fighting Grindelwald? Where was Lady Hespera Peverell and her parents when we buried our fathers and comforted our kids? Where were they when Dumbledore duelled Grindelwald bravely and almost lost his life?”

“Caldwell…enough,” Dumbledore murmured and shook his head.

He turned toward Hespera. ”Lady Peverell, I meant no harm and I’m not thief. I’m a wizard who used something he won in a fight witnessed by many. I cannot be held accountable when I didn’t even know of your existence,” his smile was the enchanting one he hated with a passion.

Hespera surprised him when she handed him the Death Stick.

“Hespera…” Orion hissed.

Dumbledore seemed startled as well, but he took the wand nevertheless.

The moment he did, he winced and Hespera’s lips lifted.

“You never won its allegiance. This wand will always look for its true Master. You can try any spell you want, it won’t work anymore.’’

Dumbledore’s mouth pulled into a bitter smile and he conceded.

He bowed respectfully and gave the wand back.

Hespera waved her hand, erecting a privacy ward and drawled. ’’You would do well to stop chasing what was never yours. Try to concentrate on your work and the betterment of our world. Don’t forget Gellert’s fate and how he fared after pursuing an impossible dream for years. I’m sure he’s not enjoying his time in Nurmengard.”

Her hand lowered but Orion was sure that Dumbledore’s ribs cut through his inwards like sharpened daggers with the intensity of the gasp he emitted.

“You…” he breathed.

“...Are not someone you want to trifle with. Be careful and remember, Death does not discriminate,” Hespera said, her silky voice colder than a Dementor’s hug.

It was the absence of feeling that chilled Orion to the bone.

The staggering man facing them slighted Hespera beyond reason and ruined whatever little dreams the love-starved orphan in her had.

Minister Tuft cleared her throat. ”I think that everything is in order.” She glared at Dumbledore who dragged his rigid body up and took his place.

“We recognize that Dumbledore, even unintentionally, took possession of a family heirloom and used it illegally for years.” Minister Tuft announced and Lord Fawley nodded.

Any protest was halted as the Minister raised her wand. "Albus Dumbledore, you were considered Wizarding Britain’s Champion for years and I admit that I was disappointed in you while hearing what you did. Considering that this is your first transgression, and I like to believe like everyone in the room that it was unintended, you will apologize to Lady Peverell officially and pay a fine of one thousand galleons. So Mote Be It.”

“She can’t be serious,” Fleamont Potter hissed and Orion gave him a hard smile.

“What did you expect? He’s Dumbledore,” he whispered flatly.

“I don’t want his apology, not when I know that he doesn’t mean it,” Hespera’s face was expressionless as she kept her eyes on Dumbledore.

“Let’s take our seats,” Orion offered.

She nodded and followed him.

Fleamont went back to the right, next to Harfang who seemed eager to hear more about any details he might have missed.

Orion walked by her side and he perceived the moment she smiled provocatively.

He stepped away, giving her all the time she needed and she didn’t keep him waiting.

She glanced over her shoulder at Dumbledore first, then at the audience sitting close by and waiting for her next move eagerly, admiring and fearing such ruthlessness at once.

His father lifted an eyebrow when she sat to his left and remarked ironically. ”Welcome to the Dark Lady Peverell.”

A feral grin played about her mouth as she breathed. ”Of course Death is dark, it’s where souls fade without a trace.”

Orion swore that a chilling undertone laced her words.

Chapter Text

Orion exhaled when Lord Fawley announced the closure of the session.

After Hespera’s face-off with Dumbledore, the minister and Lord Fawley rushed to set forth the motions that needed voting and urged the different Lords of the Noble families to give their voices.

Orion was aware that no one was paying attention to anything expecting his fiancée, who kept her head high while she discussed the different issues at hand and asked for recommendations that could influence outcomes with his father, Lord Fulcran and Abraxas Malfoy.

The latter didn’t shy from joining them brazenly, making his stance clear as day.

Orion didn’t miss the glint in his eyes as their gazes clashed and his lips twitched with repressed amusement.

Maybe he would get his old friend back too, thanks to Hespera.

He looked around for Alphard and noticed the way his face was glowing with satisfaction, which couldn’t be said for Pollux.

Cygnus was surveying the whole debacle and Orion knew that his crafty mind was making sure that everything was sifted and stored for later use.

He didn’t dislike him not really, not as much as Walburga at least, but he didn’t respect him either for remaining idle while Pollux disregarded Alphard and planned to dethrone his father.

Orion was eager to know whether Hespera’s unprompted intercession would change his standpoint.

He wished it would, remembering what would become of the man and how he would carelessly sell his daughters in the future for the sole reason of acquiring more power and more influence.

“It’s time to leave this bedlam,” Arcturus Black announced impassively and he couldn’t agree more.

He offered his arm to Hespera and she took it, gifting him a satisfied little smile.

He knew that she was nervous and afraid but she showed him, and the whole Wizengamot, her true mettle.

She had little experience, yet she braved it and planted the first seeds of doubt in every head in attendance.

“Yes, let’s depart from here. I can’t take Dumbledore’s piercing eyes anymore,” Hespera murmured under her breath.

Orion stole a furtive glance at the man, who was pretending to talk to Lord Diggory, and shook his head.

The man had become his enemy the moment he left his son to wilt in Azkaban, the moment he used Grimmauld Place, the Black Ancestral home, as his camp and repressed the Dark magic weaved through the centuries-old stones.

House Black's noble grandsire served Wizarding Britain with honour, and so did every son and daughter after him.

The Blacks never bowed nor gave up and revenge ran deep in their veins, abreast of their blood and their magic.

“I’m sure that Mother and Lucretia are waiting to hear about your first official appearance,” Orion shifted his gaze to Hespera who seemed eager to leave.

Without further ado, he gave his father a meaningful look and steered her toward the doors.

The time for socializing and getting to know more about the Noble families would come later, that moment however he knew how drained she was.

Fleamont and Charlus Potter met them near the chimneys.

“You did well Hespera, I’m proud of you. I can’t wait to bring the memory of this session to Euphemia,” Fleamont beamed at her.

“And don’t forget Dorea, she’s always ready for some disruption,” Charlus chuckled.

Orion couldn’t agree more, Dorea unlike Pollux who cared only for his gain and Cassiopeia, who was somewhere doing whatever she wanted, did in fact care about the family. She never abandoned her Black origins despite her shaky relationship with her father, the late Cygnus Black II.

He never agreed to her marriage, never saw the good in Charlus and considered him merely a footling Potter with no Heirship or power.

Charlus however was a very responsible man and a gifted wizard. After years of playing as a starting beater for the Puddlemere, Dorea threatened him with bodily harm if he didn’t stop.

He joined his cousin and Euphemia in managing the line of hair care products first invented by Fleamont called Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and Scalp Treatment.

Dorea on the other hand, was an accomplished Healer, one of the best. After she married Charlus, she pursued her dream and started training at St Mungo’s.

Orion led Hespera to the nearest chimney and didn’t wait to steer her closer to his chest and step into the green flames.

He heard her gasp but it was swallowed by his words:’12, Grimmauld Place.’

They landed in her room, just like he intended for them.

There was a thick air of tension between them that he guessed could not be easily shaken.

His throat cinched around a scattered breath as he looked at her wide eyes.

“Orion, I…” she stuttered and he shook his head.

She was perfect, but most importantly, she was his.

The creature that lived deep inside him growled its agreement.

Both man and beast wanted to inundate her with lavish gifts, help her forget all her troubles, teach her the true meaning of love and make her understand what they were prepared to do for her.

The idea of a forever with Hespera seized him.

He could see himself relaxing in the evenings and watching her take care of their future children. Afterwards, he would steer her to their room, undress her slowly, and kiss every inch of her.

It didn’t seem possible that this vision of moonlight and goodness would be his but Fate and Death weren’t without mercy.

Like rain on a cold window, these thoughts pattered against the hard surface of the incontrovertible truth that he was falling in love for the first time.

He loved his parents dearly, considered Alphard his brother and respected many a member of the Black family, yet this new flame burning hot in the deep recesses of his soul was something he feared and wanted to embrace at once.

Orion never played with the idea of sharing his life with someone he loved. The notion was foreign and farfetched. He knew that as the future Lord Black, his loyalty was only to his family.

“Hespera, you’re an amazing woman, never let anyone tell you otherwise,” he said, his voice hoarse but carrying the weight of his conviction in every letter he let out.

Her indrawn breath told him he'd stunned her with his bluntness.

He was not taught to act similarly; he was not a romantic whelp or a commoner.

It was ingrained in him, thanks to his grandfather and father’s gruelling lessons, that as Heir Black he was to remain above all basic and inglorious needs at all times.

Since he took his first breath and his name was magically added to the Family Tapestry, his life wasn’t his own.

However, Hespera wasn’t anyone. She wasn’t a mere pastime or a side character in his life; she was his past, his present and his future.

He closed the space between them, throwing property out the window, and pulled her into his arms.

Looking down at her, his heart ached with longing and affection.

She was a young woman, not yet twenty, with the countenance of an exotic angel. Her heart-shaped face had been created for sin…the enticing mouth, the perfectly-cut jaw, the emerald green eyes shaded by long straight lashes.

Gently, he kissed her forehead and smiled against her skin.

Her fingers tightened around his upper arms but she didn’t push him away.

He gave a hiss of laughter at his stupidity. Finally, he understood his father’s sly looks and his mother’s muffled grins."This is strange and for the first time I feel so stupid...”

Her brows furrowed and her jaw went slack at the words, so unexpected.

He pressed on, his hands cradling her face making sure that her eyes never left his. “You are strong and beautiful and brilliant, and so passionate—it makes me ache to be near you,” he placed his forehead to hers as he continued. “I don’t know how or when it happened … but I seem to have fallen quite impossibly in love with you. I can’t fathom the thought of a life without you, my Hespera.”

A curious mixture of giddiness and despair ran through him as she looked at him with green liquid eyes and spoke. ’’You know how my life was before I came here, you know everything about me from my childhood to my selfishness. I left my friends behind and doomed the whole Wizarding World to Voldemort’s tyranny because I couldn’t carry on. I’m tired Orion, I’m tired and angry and so done with people running my life for me. I wanted to chase the only person who loved me truly, Sirius. I can’t say that I know what love is, never experienced it before. The only form of love I know is what Sirius gave me and how warm and fuzzy I felt inside every time he was near. Can you accept me with all my flaws? I’m broken Orion, so broken I’m not sure I can ever become whole again…”

The rest of her words trailed as he grabbed her face and ignored the rest of her pleas.

He didn’t want to see her like this, the victim of Dumbledore’s machinations. He wanted the Hespera from earlier, the storm that left nothing in its wake.

His head lowered, his mouth finding hers, and she closed her eyes at the careful, enticing pressure.

Gently his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, his mouth moving over hers with a softness he wasn’t aware he possessed.

He wanted her more than life itself. He had tried to walk away earlier and leave her room before it was too late, but he couldn’t. He just had to taste her, propriety be damned.

He whispered against her lips as he lifted his head. “Just kiss me,” it came out more like a plea than a demand.

She brought her head up slightly as he lowered his head again. They met somewhere in the middle, and when his lips touched hers, a bolt of heat swept through him.

Heat and … recognition…like he found the home he missed for an eternity .

Her hands reached up and gripped his shoulders as her mouth opened and Orion surrendered for the first time.

He savoured the feel of his lips on hers, of his hands cradling her face, of his fingers trailing down to her neck as his thumbs stroked the skin of her cheeks, setting her aflame.

He held her firmly against him, his mouth playing over hers, sending wave after wave of sensation rocketing through them.

The caress gentled. He lifted his mouth until it was just barely touching hers and licked her bottom lip, his tongue warm and rough against the soft skin there, and she gasped. The sensation was so foreign, so wicked.

So magnificent.

When the need for air became too great to ignore, he freed her soft lips but remained close.

‘’Sometimes," he whispered. "I'm so close to you and I'm still not close enough. I want to share your breath and every beat of your heart. You saved me but rest assured that you will always have me.”

Hespera froze and he noticed the unshed tears swirling in the green depths.

He could scarce remember a thing but her didn’t care in truth.

His mind was so filled with her that it wasn’t able to think. And then, when he ought to move away, he kissed her hand, where his ring would shine forever telling the world what she was to him.

He meant no disrespect by it, but neither had it been a chaste kiss.

He needed it to believe that what he was feeling was real, that this splendid, stellar woman was his.

He knew he would feed on the memory of tonight for a long, long while. And then, when the glow began to ebb, he would remember it again.

“I know. I know and I believe you, Orion,” Hespera caressed his cheek and her magic wrapped around him like the warmest of cloaks.

Hespera took a swallow of water washing down the last of her supper.

A feast in her honour was laid out before her thanks to Melania, Tilly and Kreacher’s hard work.

The meal was served from authentic House Black silver platters and tureens set upon the huge dining table.

As she looked at the silver goblets, she remembered the day she caught Mundungus selling them. Never would she let the Black property fall again in filthy hands.

“Are you alright?” Orion, who was facing her asked softly.

She averted her gaze, feeling flustered all of sudden.

He surprised her earlier with his unexpected confession and then…the kiss.

Despite her limited experience with guys, Hespera wasn’t ignorant of what transpired between people who fancied each other.

She spent long nights listening to Lavender and Parvati gushing over their flames and describing, rather explicitly, what went inside the abandoned Hogwarts classrooms.

Her action-filled school years never gave her the chance to explore these sweet feelings or experience with a guy.

She remembered how it felt when Cedric asked Cho instead of her or when Dean started dating Ginny, crushing yet another dream of hers.

But whatever feelings she harboured for Cedric and Dean never prepared her for the thunderstorm that was Orion Arcturus Black.

She never imagined Sirius’ father to be so…overwhelming.

Orion was usually calm and poised. His words never betrayed his inner thoughts and his reactions were succinct and straight to the point.

The only thing he couldn’t hide from her was his magic. Since she started this new journey, she became more sensitive to the magic surrounding her.

Her formal life never taught her that magic wasn’t just a plethora of spells; it was the life that breathed in every Wiccan, creature and artifact or building blessed by Mother Magic’s touch.

Once again, she cursed her idleness and isolation, the gilded cage that Dumbledore put her in. Thankfully, she was not a prisoner anymore.

She was Lady Hespera Peverell and she could do and feel whatever she wanted.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, ignoring Lucretia’s snort.

Orion hummed and went back to his food, no wonder noticing her discomfort.

“Regulus and Lycoris will join us later,” Arcturus drawled. “My sister is back from her trip to France and after stopping by Father’s home in Devon, she’ll spend the night with us.” Looking at her, he smiled faintly. ”It seems the news reached her and she’s eager to meet you.”

“Aunt Lycoris is back,” Lucretia gasped. “I missed her. It had been months since she left England.”

Melania hadn’t been able to keep the grin from her face, that until she noticed her subdued state.

She murmured under her breath. ”Don’t worry, Lycoris will love you. She’s an older version of Lucretia, the two are noisy and cumbersome.”

Hespera chuckled and nodded.

Melania never failed to make her feel better, she was thankful to the kind-hearted woman.

She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, feeling an undeniable swell of happiness and warmth.

Then, as if she’d known she had been watched, she lifted her head and met Orion’s gaze.

His lips curved into a lopsided grin and she smiled back, her belly seeming to flip and her cheeks suddenly warm.

“Shall we, my lady?” he offered and she rolled her eyes and stood up.

Even Lucretia’s whistle didn’t bother her.

She never knew that being teased by ‘an older sister’ could feel so good.

--

Miss Lycoris Black was a charming lady to put it simply.

She was Sirius Phineas Black’s middle child and his favourite according to Regulus.

Unlike Arcturus, who was groomed to take the Lord’s mantle, and Regulus, who embraced his genius and started his own business, Lycoris was free to do as she pleased.

An exceptionally bright woman, Lycoris was taught to be sorted into Ravenclaw House, an unusual placement for a Black. But her Slytherin nature took over and she joined her older brother.

She was bold, boisterous and carefree, her vivacity spilling into the world around her.

She was also notoriously stubborn refusing all the betrothal proposals she received. Like Cassiopeia and Regulus, she remained single enjoying her life to the fullest.

“Your fiancée is more well-behaved than Pollux’ uncouth daughter,” Lycoris offered with a prim smile that was betrayed by the predatory glint in her light grey eyes.

Arcturus nodded absently and Orion chuckled. ”You can’t compare Hespera to Walburga Aunt Lycoris, it wouldn't be fair to both.”

“I can attest to that, sister. My new niece is passionate and eager to learn,” Regulus winked.

Lycoris nodded absently, her piercing eyes studying her. ”I never agreed to that match, Arcturus. It was an unnecessary trial you put your only son through.”

Arcturus traced his finger over his glass of Elven wine, idly. "Well, perhaps I shall be thankful for Hespera’s sudden appearance.”

“No need Arcturus, I’m glad that I met Orion before it was too late,” she interjected, surprising herself.

Orion’s eyes flared and she couldn’t blame him.

Usually, she wasn’t so forward with her thoughts and feelings, but what she went through since she died and started over made her realize that life was too short to keep things to herself.

Lucretia snorted. ”I’m certain that Orion is well pleased with being saved. You should devote the rest of your life to thanking your future wife brother; being married to that harpy is a fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

‘’Walburga never failed to try my patience most of the time," said Lycoris from her seat on the chaise, her voice an infuriating tone Hespera knew people used when playing devil's advocate. "But you can't deny that the girl got it from her father. I blame you, Arcturus, for being so lenient with him, even after learning of his intentions.”

“He’s my blood and Blacks never harm their own,” Arcturus tipped back his glass in a single, jerky motion that was so unlike him.

“Thanks to Mother Magic’s mercy, my son was saved and that’s all that matters,” Melania said diplomatically, looking between a slyly amused Lycoris and an obviously peeved Arcturus, something it seemed, when paired, tended to result in disaster.

Hespera was surprised when Lycoris scoffed, not even deigning to acknowledge the pitiful attempt at diffusing the argument by her sister-in-law. ’’Sweet Salazar, we are House Black; mercy does not exist in our vocabulary. It’s not enough Melania, far from it.”

Lycoris tapped her chin, scrunching up her face in mock-thought. ’’And then, let’s think about this from Pollux’ perspective. I’m sure he’s not feeling very gracious after being insulted publicly.”

"You've made your point, Lycoris," Regulus ground out, looking between his siblings.

The middle-aged witch sighed at her brother, rolling her eyes at his feeble attempt.

“We will be ready for him Aunt Lycoris, we had it with his ploys and power-plays,” Orion said coldly and Melania nodded in confirmation, lifting herself off the sofa and giving her son a light kiss on the cheek.

Arcturus took a sip of his drink, eyeing Lycoris coolly over the rim of his glass.

“I thought you were more interested in fashion and whatever crazy ventures Cassiopeia introduced you to, my dear sister,” he smiled brutally.

Lycoris merely raised her glass toward him with a nod, acknowledging his comment. ”I love fashion and I love accompanying Cassiopeia to her trips but I love my nephew and niece and I will never let an imbecile, greedy man harm them or theirs.”

‘’I know, how much you love my children, I know,” Arcturus spoke with a controlled dignity, though the pride and happiness were practically oozing off of him.

Hespera’s head hurt from swivelling between the brother and sister.

What sounded like an argument at first was in fact a confirmation of loyalty. A pledge of sorts.

“They’re always like this, don’t mind them,” Lucretia murmured under her breath and she nodded absently.

Arcturus shrugged, tossing back the last of his Elven wine. "Orion has a finacée now and he’ll be wedded soon. He's secure in his role as Heir Black and no one can take his birthright from him. Moreover, with Hespera as a member of our family, we’ll win more alliances and our combined power will be unrivalled. I believe it's time for Pollux, and any fool who thinks that they can hurt my family, to start learning what that actually entails," he smirked. "Besides, I will have much fun teaching the future Lady and Lord of House Black how our enemies are disposed of, it’s what we excel at according to the journals of our ancestors.’’

Lycoris and Regulus chuckled darkly, seeming satisfied with their brother’s words and Hespera sucked in a breath, and willed herself not to shiver.

She wanted to laugh, with relief because she finally had the family that would accompany her to the darkest parts of the abyss and then more, and with satisfaction, because her day had gone so very well.

But she didn't dare make a sound now, for somewhere in the back of her mind lurked the peculiar thought that such undignified behaviour would draw attention to her and truth be told, the glint in the three pairs of grey eyes gleaming with savage mirth was quite terrifying. Even for the fabled Mistress of Death.

Chapter Text

Orion leaned over his desk more deeply, his dark brows furrowed with concentration.

His chin nearly touched the ancient parchment as his ravenous eyes ate the tantalizing information offered by the priceless treasure.

His dear father had managed somehow to get his hands on the invaluable original manuscript of Merwyn The Malicious, a book that would cause immeasurable trouble if it fell into the wrong hands.

Arcturus was aware that Orion was a gifted Spell Crafter, a talent he helped him acuminate.

Unlike many slothful Pureblood Heirs, Orion wasn’t one to remain inactive while he waited for the next Wizengamot session.

Politics weren’t the only thing that filled his time, he intended to have something for himself, a life separate from what he offered to the outer world and Spell Crafting was the subject that had always fascinated him, notwithstanding his great understanding and skill in magical theory allowing him to invent spells.

Learning from the best was the first step to achieving his dream and thanks to the Black vaults filled to the brim with gold, not to mention their connections even in the shadiest parts of London, Arcturus was able to provide him with the best references, be it Herpo The Fool’s Original Rituals, Helexia and Syna Hyslop’s Doubling Charm Incantation Manuscript and now, Merwyn The Malicious’ full collection of deadly curses and hexes.

He was always attracted to the more obscure spells, the ones that would ensure the enemy’s demise at once.

However, after Hespera’s arrival, he became more intent to sharpen his talent and work harder to protect what he held dear, his family.

Orion scratched his chin and paused, concentrating on a difficult incantation.

Automatically, he flicked his faithful Ebony and Grim Heartstring wand.

It has come as a surprise when a few months ago his original wand, the one he purchased from Master Wandmaker Gruffydd Ollivander after he received his Hogwarts letter, wouldn’t work for him anymore.

His father had taken him to the main Black vault, where all wands of past family members were safeguarded.

Orion had tried at least seven different wands until he found the one that answered his magic’s call.

The wand belonged to his great ancestor Licorus Black, the one who enchanted the fabled Family Tapestry and whose journals were filled with unravelled mysteries.

He had been stunned when he learned about the core, more so when the beast that lived inside him started showing itself.

Orion straightened his back and followed the wand movements described in the text.

He didn’t utter the words. He did not intend to try the spell, not something that lethal inside his home, all he needed was to assimilate the wand motion scrupulously.

However, a groan left his lips the moment the wards apprised him of the new arrival.

Carefully, he arranged the collection of manuscripts he was studying and leaned his head against his chair.

He didn’t have to wait for long. He risked a glance at the closed door and wasn’t disappointed when his cousin didn’t even knock and strode in.

“Good evening to you too. You do know that our family is recognized for its members’ eloquence and quintessential manners, right my dear cousin?”

Alphard half sat on the edge of the desk and waved his hand nonchalantly. ”I know that I don’t need to act all stodgy in your presence, my future Lord.”

His piercing eyes noticed the resources dispersed all over the desk and he lifted an eyebrow, studying his face attentively. ”Were you doing another research?”

‘’Yes, I was. I can’t get to grips with the spell I’m designing and I needed to revisit Merwyn The Malicious’ works,” came his cool reply.

Alphard faked a shudder. ”I can’t understand how you can stomach reading such dreadful information. I know that we’re Dark, but Merwyn…”

When Orion’s upper lip lifted sardonically, Alphard’s eyes flared. ”Merlin’s Mercy! Don’t tell me it’s related to your fiancée and what transpired a few days ago in the Ministry.”

“Once again, you demonstrate why you are a Black and my favourite cousin at that,” Orion drawled, caressing the smooth wood of his wand and savouring the wild magic drifting from the core.

“But…” Alphard sighed. “I noticed how she stood up to Dumbledore and how Father wasn’t pleased with that. Do you think that we have an impending fight?”

“I know that we’ll need to fight. I can’t give you the details though, nor can I specify if it’s going to be solely political or will escalate to a full battle. All that I know is that I have to be ready at all times.”

He hated to hide things from Alphard, he was his most trusted friend, his cousin and his brother, but he couldn’t voice what was besetting him and making him not get a wink of sleep.

His mind was still going through what happened in Hespera’s room a few days ago, not able to believe his audacity.

He had been overwhelmed with a need so strong to lay claim to her, to assuage his deep fear of losing what he gained not long ago.

He didn’t want to imagine his Mother's reaction if she learned of his philistine behaviour, not to mention his sister.

Lucretia wouldn’t stop teasing him with her ribald comments, and he knew how insistent she was.

He was grateful for his Aunt Lycoris’ unforeseen visit. At least, she kept all the witches of the house busy with the tales of her adventures.

He wasn’t sure what prompted her visit, didn’t know if he should suspect a secret letter from his Uncle Regulus, but he was pleased nevertheless.

He was looking forward to what she would teach Hespera knowing that she took a liking to her since their first meeting.

“Orion…Orion!” Alphard threw a light Tickling Charm and when he glared at him, he lowered his wand.

“Your mind is miles away, is it because of the awe-inspiring Lady Peverell?” Alphard snickered and ducked when Orion lifted his hand lazily, tossing a careless jinx.

Alphard surprisingly evaded his spell and shook his head with mirth. ”Sensitive, aren't we?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about my annoying cousin,” Orion’s face remained impassive.

“Is that so? You know, I met Hespera downstairs and I noticed how…flustered she became as soon as I inquired about your relationship. I want to make sure that everything is going well. Of course, you know that I care about you, even though your manners are unsatisfactory.” Alphard grinned briefly.

Orion smirked. ”And I know that you didn’t. I am Heir Black; the wards do always tell me the location of every soul living under this roof. Hespera is in the Ritual Room with Mother and Aunt Lycoris. They’re introducing her to the Sacred Days practices. The Winter Solstice is approaching and she needs to be ready, it will be her introduction to our allies and failure is not an option.”

Alphard groaned. ”Won’t you let me win for once, you greedy prat.”

“You already know the answer to that,” Orion summoned the Firewhiskey decanter and offered a snifter to his cousin.

They drank leisurely, taking joy in the slight burn that followed the first swallow.

Orion’s light-grey eyes appeared silver as he gave his cousin a level gaze. ”I’m wondering myself what’s going on Alph. I’m noticing the drastic changes taking place and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep up. The family is once again reassembling. Father is intent on fighting Pollux for the first time. My fiancée is Lady Peverell who needed one appearance to forge numerous alliances and create a horde of enemies. All of this is beyond my ability to understand, not to mention the strange feelings awakening in my heart,” Orion didn’t hesitate as words seeped from his lips. It was a rare occasion when he confided in anyone—but if there was one man he trusted, it was Alphard.

His cousin’s mouth tightened with a suppressed smile. Be that as it may, Orion noticed it.

“I used to tell you that I’ll be praying in Stonehenge for a miracle and I believe that Mother Magic accepted my oblation, you know how precious the Black blood is my friend.”

“You’re not helping here, Alph,” Orion murmured flatly.

“Of course, I’ll help. As a matter of fact, there is a reason behind my unprompted visit.”

Alphard, who had always been fond of solving others’ problems, seemed annoyed and he got a sudden hunch of what had elicited his visit.

Orion sipped more Firewhiskey and then swirled the liquid in the snifter, regarding it with untoward interest.

‘’Does it concern your father? I know that he won’t remain idle after the insult he received,” he asked.

Alphard registered the statement with a blink of surprise, and then regarded him speculatively, raising his brows in mock horror. ’’Are you a Seer as well? It would be too much, even for the amazing Heir Black.’’

When Orion scoffed, he gave an irritable shrug, unintentionally showing his frustration. ”He’s plotting something with some of his longtime friends. Two days ago, he visited the Nott Estate with Cygnus. The bastard won’t say a thing, but I know that it pertains you, your father and Hespera,” he offered sourly.

The conversation drifted from light and enjoyable to tense and serious all of a sudden.

Orion straightened and barely suppressed the growl that wanted to leave his throat. ”Is he conspiring to hurt Father or Hespera?”

Alphard frowned. ”I’m not sure. But we both know that many Dark families were not pleased with the new balance your fiancée’s appearance forced. Misery loves company, they might have spent the afternoon lamenting and cursing the Peverells, or…”

“Or they are under the illusion that we won’t be ready for whatever devious plans they’re setting. They’re an unscrupulous lot, a disgrace to their families' names,” his lips quirked.

He smiled wryly and dismissed his cousin’s warning with a motion of his hand, enjoying Alphard’s widening eyes, “But they will never be ready for us. Did you know that Aunt Lycoris is back? It won’t be long before her mentor follows and you know what that entails.”

Alphard gasped soundlessly. ”My Merlin…You mean?”

Orion grinned cheerfully, gazing at his protruding claws; an occurrence that seemed to increase with his simmering rage. ”Yes she is. Pollux, Nott and their ilk are no match for us. One of my Father’s informants was here yesterday and reported the news. You know how Father is; I don’t feel shame to call spying his favourite pastime.”

Alphard snorted. ”Your father is an opponent I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

Then, on a separate note, he raked a hand through his ebony locks.” And I’d better perfect my new potion formula. She’ll be asking about my progress and I can’t disappoint her.”

Orion smiled smugly at the thought. ”You’d better not disappoint her. You know how she is.”

Hespera stared in bemusement at the armloads of richly hued silks and velvets that were brought forth.

“Do I need all this?”

Lycoris lifted a well-shaped eyebrow and didn’t deem her question worthy of an answer.

Lucretia snorted and Hespera glared at her.

Lycoris had arranged for a trip to her beloved cousin’s boutique, Lady Charis Black Crouch, the most exclusive dressmaker in Diagon Alley and further made it clear that Hespera was to allow her complete authority that, until she learned all there was to know about the fine, intricate art of dressing to impress.

According to Lycoris, Britain's Pureblood society's fashion Diva, her attires weren’t just clothes.

As Lady Peverell and the future Lady Black, she had to be spruced up to an elaborate extent.

She had to crush any competition , were her exact words.

Being someone who grew up with nothing, except the rags she received from Petunia, Hespera was not used to such luxury.

Even after she learned of her parents’ wealth and the fortune they left for her, she never got the chance to indulge and enjoy a lengthy shopping trip in London.

Privately, she suspected that Lycoris and Lucretia were far from impressed by her fashion sense.

However, it was lack of experience, not taste, which had always determined her wardrobe.

Now Hespera found herself in the famed set of rooms in ‘Charis’ Choice’, lined with gilded, enchanted mirrors and elegant light grey brocade.

There was an intimidating, regal ambience at the boutique. Even the pleasant smile of the owner did little to calm her trepidation.

The thought of how unaccustomed she was to such extravagance was unnerving, but Hespera doggedly ignored the nagging worry.

She was surprised when the owner introduced herself as Lady Charis Black Crouch.

She learned that after she finished her schooling, she decided to follow her passion and spent a year in Paris apprenticing under the famous Madame Coraline, the most renowned dressmaker in the continent according to both Lycoris and Lucretia.

When she received a betrothal proposal from Lord Caspar Crouch, she insisted that she would accept only under the condition that she was not to be precluded from starting her own business.

Casper, who had been bewitched by the charismatic daughter of House Black, agreed at once and they bonded a few months later.

Charis was close friends with Dorea and Charlus. She claimed that she was the one to unite the two stubborn fouls.

Lycoris nudged her, halting her musings and Charis smiled. ”I’m so glad that Orion escaped Walburga’s clutches. She’s a disgrace to her name, not to mention, too rude for my liking.”

“She doesn’t pay for whatever she purchases from your boutique too, Charis,” Lucretia offered shamelessly.

“There’s that too. This is business, not a charity.” Charis murmured with indignation.

“Enough with your blabbering. Hespera needs an astounding outfit for the Winter Solstice, so start working at once. Melania and Euphemia will stitch the protective Runes later,” Lycoris snapped.

Charis curtsied dramatically. ”As you wish, My Lady.”

Hespera grinned, that until Charis dragged her to an adjoining room outfitted with delicate furniture, fine curtains, and mirrors even more massive than the ones in the front rooms.

‘’Every piece is one of a kind. I never do the same model twice,” Charis said, pride filling her voice.

Deftly, she turned her around and flicked her wand.

“I design everything according to the feeling of my clients’ magic. Do I have your permission to start?”

Hespera was startled at first until she remembered Melania’s lessons.

As Lady Peverell, she ranked higher than any witch in Magical Britain.

Magic was sacred and no one was allowed to get a reading on hers without her voiced permission. She was entitled to decree a Blood Feud if she felt violated at any time.

Hespera nodded and Charis started moving her wand according to a precise pattern.

Her eyes barely widened, before she regained her composure.

“Well…dark colours are more suitable for you, Black maybe. However, I see some white in your aura. Do you love the color?”

She delivered her question carelessly, however, Hespera noticed how eager she was to hear her answer.

“I love white. It reminds me of….peace,” she breathed.

Her memories took her to the white void where she met Death and started this new journey.

“White befits you, Mistress,”  her troublesome friend whispered and she stiffened.

“Are you alright?” Charis wondered, scrutinizing the different nuances of her expression.

“Yes. I…”

“The formal Peverell colours are Black and white, so it’s not surprising. Black for death and white for life and new beginnings. The legends we learned say that death is not the end; it’s just the start of a new life. The Peverells were renowned to embody both; they’re death to their enemies and life to those they take under their wings.”

“I love this woman. She was attentive to her history lessons,”  Death gushed happily. “But I prefer death at any given moment. There are many unworthy fools still roaming the land and I need to show them that they can never escape me. I am the beginning and I am the end.”

“You’re also a pompous prat,” Hespera sent mentally.

“Why, thank you Hespera,” she heard his sigh as if he was standing there, “I guess that my minions are not taking their job seriously. Maybe I need to make an example of some of them. I have a particular name in mind.”

“And I don’t need to know. Please, I don’t want to seem like a lunatic.” She almost begged, noticing Charis’ narrowed eyes.

Death gasped dramatically. ”And here I was taking care of you. You wound me Hespera. Until we meet again.”

Hespera exhaled when his annoying voice disappeared. The bastard was growing on her and she was infuriated by her heart’s treachery.

She swore that she heard a mocking chuckle, but didn’t get the time to react for Lycoris drawled darkly from the other room. ”Well, well, what do we have here? I can’t say that I missed you, Walburga.”

Hespera stiffened and closed her eyes.

Her magic rebelled against the confinement of her skin, calling for Sirius abuser’s blood, but she grappled with her infamous Potter temper.

She wasn’t that girl anymore, that brash, careless Gryffindor Dumbledore shaped according to his agenda.

She was the Mistress of Death, and she would act accordingly.

Chapter Text

Hespera scowled. “Walburga…”

Charis’ lips curled in a derisive sneer. “The shameless harlot…Salazar’s Blood, what do you expect with the kind of upbringing she received ?”

Hearing the expletive, Hespera’s mouth twitched.

Charis possessed a kind of contained energy that reminded her a little of Luna. One could see it in the eyes, the quicksilver workings of a mind that ran at a faster speed than those of other people.

“You seem surprised. I’m aware of the ‘blood is everything’ prattle cousin Arcturus likes to expatiate daily. Nevertheless, I had it with Walburga’s audacity.”

That elicited a full grin. ”Let’s head out then, I’m sure she won’t be pleased when she finds me here.”

Charis turned to face her more fully, her eyes glinting as if she could read her thoughts. ”You’re eager to confront her again, aren’t you Hespera?” she tapped her chin with a slender finger and smirked. “I can see why Orion chose you and Arcturus agreed right away. There’s a vast amount of fire inside you Lady Peverell and I’ll wait fervently to see the extent of the destruction it will leave behind.”

A hot blush of pleasure climbed Hespera’s face, but she lifted her head and accepted the compliment without a hint of shame.

Charis and Hespera left the room and joined Lycoris and Lucretia.

Walburga froze the moment she made her appearance, her hand hovering over a displayed green dress.

“Miss Black,” Hespera drawled acidly.

Her wand was buzzing with repressed energy, begging for her consent to leave the holster and protect its Mistress.

Since she got it back from Dumbledore, she noticed how faithful the Elder Wand was. She remembered the tales talking about its temper and how wicked and fickle it was. It seemed these qualities were reserved for those who weren’t the rightful owners of its true allegiance.

Walburga took her time about replying, which prompted Charis to hiss. ”Won’t you show the required decorum in the presence of Lady Peverell?”

“Charis…” Walburga paused, appearing to think better of what she’d been about to say. “Are your Lady Peverell’s new protector and friend? Would it matter so much to you how I deal with her?”

Lucretia stared at her in openmouthed astonishment. ”But last time…”

Like a snake, Walburga glared at her cousin. ”Last time I was insulted in the Black Ancestral Home, cornered by my flesh and blood.”

Charis murmured under her breath. ”The amount of drama the bloody wench comes with.”

“I need no protectors, Miss Black, something that can’t be said about you,” Hespera took an offending step forward and the room’s temperature started decreasing briskly.

Charis seemed intrigued and perturbed, no wonder noticing the change in the air, which couldn’t be said of Walburga.

Hespera wondered if she inherited any Black gifts at all. Her magic wasn’t something praiseworthy.

“I advise you to leave this place. There are numerous shops on Diagon Alley, you can find whatever you seek elsewhere.” Lycoris said wisely, her voice dispassionate, while she examined her blood-red painted nails.

“And if I don’t? I am a customer,” Walburga refuted boldly.

“More like a beggar. You’re a brute Walburga and I won’t have you treat my boutique like your personal wardrobe anymore. I refuse to give any creation of mine for free.”

Walburga gave her a slightly mocking glance.”I am your niece Charis and family doesn’t…”

Charis groaned and shook her head. “I might feel sorry for you, Walburga, if you weren’t such a selfish arse. I’ve seen you like this before, and I already know where it will lead. This is why you own more enemies than you can handle. For you, disappointment is inevitable. As soon as you obtain the object of your desire, it loses its power to enchant you. So leave the boutique, and Orion, alone and act with dignity for once.”

‘’You…” Walburga shouted.

“Enough! Walburga you’re not welcome here anymore unless you treat your aunt with respect. Charis is right, business is business,” Lycoris interjected.

Walburga’s lips pinched, her face darkening with contained rage and humiliation. ”Why are you behaving this way? I’m your blood!”

“You’re a shame to the venerable Black name and until you start conducting yourself with grace and humility, I see no need for you to darken any Black’s property,” Lycoris smiled, tiny constellations of reflected light glinting in her eyes. “I may even suggest some meditation and Occlumency. It’s time for you to assess your previous conduct and try to straighten your ways before it’s too late.”

Like a wounded snake, Walburga retrieved her wand and wheeled around, facing Hespera. ”This is your fault! Since you appeared everything turned upside down. You poisoned my own family against me. You stole Orion and took my birthright.”

“Lower your wand,” Hespera rose to her full height, which wasn’t that impressive. “If you value your life and what little shreds of dignity you still possess you will lower your wand at once.”

Silence descended on the room and everyone waited with bated breath for Walburga to make a decision.

The air was heavy with suffocating Dark magic, the threads almost visible to the naked eye.

Lycoris closed her eyes and inhaled deeply while Charis stole covet glances at Hespera.

Although she maintained a circumspect distance from her, Hespera noticed the tiny step back Walburga took.

She kept her shrewdly confident look and waved her hand. Walburga paled and droplets of cold sweat ran down her twisted face.

“You are not strong enough to be considered a competition of mine,” Hespera reflected quietly though her tone carried the threat. “Stay away from Orion, Walburga. Find another innocent Heir to corrupt. I already have enough excuses to murder you as it is.” She skewered her with a lethal glance and ignored Lucretia’s muttered ‘Her eyes…’

Walburga seemed to collect herself, lowered her wand and sneered. ”What do you mean?”

Hespera didn’t miss the touch of surprise in her voice.

“I mean what I promised,” Hespera informed him. “You will stay away from Orion.”

Not one to give up easily, the hag sneered vehemently. “Don’t think that I'll give up. I’ll be doomed if I let you win.”

“You’re already doomed. You preen and posture as the future Lady Black but I won’t let you accomplish your narcissistic folly.” Hespera countered icily.

For the first time, Hespera wished that acting like her previous self wasn’t so deplored by Pureblood society, she wished she could just hex the hag to her heart’s content and be done with her once and for all.

“We’ll see,’’ Walburga retorted heading for the door, no wonder recognizing her precarious position.

Pausing at the threshold, she gave her a cold glance. “I’m the future of this family,” she said and left the shop.

Every muscle in Hespera’s body tensed with the instinct to follow her like a hound on the scent but she stomped on the urge.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Lucretia called after her.

“I’ve never been one of those sentimental fools, but I do feel a great deal of disgust right now,” Lycoris sighed.

“You mean you have actual human emotions, Aunt?” Lucretia asked innocently.

“I have emotions,” Lycoris paused. “When I want to, of course.”

“I’m having an emotion right now. And before it obliges me to follow the harlot and wedge my wand up her arse, I’m going to bring some Jasmine tea and go back to work,” Charis glared at the door.

“Charis,” Lucretia chuckled. “Don’t squander your breath on her, she’s gone.”

Lycoris’ keen eyes softened. ”You handled her well Hespera. Never lower your standards for the unworthy and always remember who you are and what you depict.”

Hespera nodded dutifully, her veins still buzzing with lethal energy.

“Never forget indeed, ” Death drawled. “As my Chosen you outrank them all and in time, the heathen will learn their proper place.”

Hespera didn’t share his amusement, but she kept her mouth shut nevertheless.

She divulged plenty as it was and didn’t fancy the thought of appearing like a lunatic in front of Charis and Lycoris.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she sent mentally.

“Oh, I can’t wait my dear.” Death chuckled darkly, filling her head with his hateful voice.

She cringed inwardly but kept a smile plastered over her lips.

--

Although Hespera was tired after the excitement and bustle of the trip to Diagon Alley, not to mention her encounter with Walburga, she couldn’t seem to relax enough to take a nap or sort out her feelings

Her thoughts were restless, her mind running in place like a wounded hippogriff.

Meeting Walburga again reminded her of what she needed to do.

She wasn’t merely a time traveler, she was the Mistress of Death and she had a mission, a very crucial one at that.

“Are you alright Mistress Hespera? Kreacher feels your agitation.” Kreacher sounded worried and she loathed the frailty she heard in his voice.

Her loyal friend had suffered as much as her and she wanted to soothe his worries and make him forget.

She caught his small hand, sending waves of comforting magic and strengthening the bond.

Her core pulsed with love and possession as she renewed her pledge to protect her elf.

“Mistress Hespera…” Kreacher gasped with awe.

“I won’t let anyone harm the Black family, my friend, you don’t have to worry,” she promised.

“But…”

“I’m fine. I had an encounter with an unpleasant woman today but everything went well.”

He didn’t look convinced, sadly, she didn’t have more to offer.

She learned how strong the bond between Master and house elf was, more so when it was forged willingly.

Kreacher was a reflection of her thoughts and emotions and nothing could make it otherwise. She hated troubling him more but she couldn’t help herself.

Walburga reminded her of her mission. First, she had to clip Dumbledore’s wings and abort all his covetous dreams, then she had to find out about Tom Riddle’s whereabouts and act accordingly.

The thought caused a twinge of something that felt like terror, something she never felt even in the throes of the war she waged with Voldemort.

She had friends and a surrogate family to protect back then, but now…

“Now you have a true family, people who accept you for what you are, knowing that you are Dark and deadly,” Death appeared in the room and her hand shook as she ran it through her unbound hair.

She didn’t possess the right amount of energy to confront her stalker and she desperately needed a friend to talk to.

“Do you think I’ll be able to protect them?”

“Of course, you will, that’s what you always do.”

Death looked down and Kreacher flinched, nodded furtively and apparated right away.

“Don’t scare my friend.” Hespera rebuked tiredly.

“But I like the elf. He is loyal and resourceful,” hearing the mirth in his voice, she felt better.

She did not doubt that his appearance wasn’t random. It was as if he felt the thoughts taxing her mind and intended to take her troubles away.

Death floated closer, swaddling her with his magic. ”Your magic is a drop of mine. In your blood lives my legacy and my judgment. And in your hands, I left my most precious creations. Never doubt your worth Hespera Peverell, you’re a piece of me and your very existence is the illustration of my might,” Death said coolly.

Hespera blinked and looked at the endless black that was his face, wondering what to make of her life.

She struggled with many feelings at once, trying to understand the Deity that became her past and her future.

How naive she was. She would never have imagined Death capable of such kindness. He was responsible for causing grief to many people.

But…he wasn’t completely bad. He had come to her tonight and comforted her turbulent thoughts.

He saved her, gave her a second chance and showed her the way to the ultimate happiness.

Hespera shook her head in consternation, not knowing what to think.

He was also annoying and drove her crazy most of the time. But…

He tenderly smoothed her dark, ruffled hair like a father would his beloved daughter. ‘’I gave you an honour no living soul can claim. I became your best friend. Now, enough with the pitiful, disgusting musings. I can’t feel emotions so we can’t keep this charade longer. I believe that Orion is waiting for you, change your garments and go down. I can see an interesting wind heading your way.”

Before she could ask, he disappeared and she groaned.

--

Hespera went downstairs, stopping briefly at the parlour to adjust her long white robes; the ones Death gifted her when she died.

Melania explained the Winter Solstice procedure.

The night would start with the family members doing the opening Rituals privately and asking for Mother Magic’s blessing before the guests joined and the celebrations started.

As staunch followers of the Olde Ways, the Blacks allotted great importance to the Sacred Days and accurately followed their ancestors’ teachings.

Hespera was eager to witness her first Sacred Day celebration among her new family.

Orion’s brows knitted together when he greeted her. He whispered under his breath:’I heard you met Walburga earlier. Are you alright?”

Hespera nodded.

“Lucretia reported what transpired in Charis’ boutique and I,’’ he cleared his throat and tightened his grip on her hand. ‘’I admire you for the strength and will you showed this afternoon.”

Hespera grinned up at him, her heart almost bursting with elation. ”You admire me?”

Orion’s keen eyes held her in place. ”Of course I do, do you doubt my words, My Lady?”

She drew her hand back slowly and linked their arms together, staring into his glinting silver eyes. ”Never.”

As they stood there with moonlight and shadows playing around them, it seemed as if they had stepped out of time.

As if they were the only two people in the world, free to do or say whatever they pleased.

Orion smiled and the softness in his eyes nettled her.

She hated and loved how weak he made her feel.

“You’re finally ready,” Melania smothered her grin and she blushed when she became aware of the way she was eyeing them, “let’s head to the Ritual room. Regulus is already there. Sirius and Hesper arrived a moment ago and they’re anxious to meet their new granddaughter.”

She smiled tightly and Orion leaned down and soothed gently. ”My grandparents are great. Remember how well it went with Uncle Regulus and Aunt Lycoris, you have nothing to fear.”

“Alphard is here too. He slipped off home and joined us,” Melania added.

They followed her down to the Ritual Room.

Hespera shuddered, feeling the amount of magic contained inside the vast space.

The Wards Stone shone glassy luster in the middle and an older man, who she surmised was the previous Lord Black, fed the fire chanting under his breath.

Everyone was garbed in stark white, the purity of their attires reflecting their devotion and invoking Mother Magic to bless their offerings.

Hesper and Sirius’ attention turned to her when Melania introduced her new daughter.

“So, you’re the one Orion choose. Welcome to the family Lady Peverell,” Sirius Phineas Black greeted her, his sharp eyes scrutinizing the different nuances of her expressions.

He looked a great deal like Arcturus and Orion and she noticed that the years had been kind to him. Despite the greying hair and the wrinkles, he possessed the overwhelming presence and the authority of a man who feared nothing.

Hespera forced herself to reply honestly.”Thank you, Lord Black. I’m honoured to be considered your family.

Sirius lifted an eyebrow and to her chagrin smirked in a way so reminiscent of Arcturus. ”No need for the title. I don’t hold it anymore. I’m just an old man trying to enjoy his last days in peace.”

His wife, who was standing by his side, smiled. ”Welcome to the family, my dear. Please do call us like the rest of our grandchildren do.”

Hesper took a step closer and brushed a finger over her forehead. Her touch was strong but gentle, slightly cool against her skin, and it felt so amazingly good that she trembled.

“You’re one of us now Hespera. You’re our blood.” The previous Lady Black’s voice softened to dark velvet.

Hespera’s breath stopped then started too fast, sounding like a tiny hiccup. There was no mistaking the magic in the touch, sending soothing waves through her bloodstream.

“Let’s start with the Ritual. I can feel the magic of Solstice,” Arcturus interrupted.

On this one day, the sun would stand still in the sky, and every magical knew that change was coming.

Hespera felt it more than most for the change was what brought her to this strange yet interesting world, leaving everything behind.

The day partook the nature of eternity, which was woven into her very being the night she accepted the Mistress of Death's mantle.

Orion led her to the altar which was the only piece of furniture in the room, that and the fireplace.

There was a display of wreaths, lit candles for gratitude, oranges, apples, pinecones and precious crystals to call forth the sunlight and honour the magic of rebirth.

Hespera smiled as she remembered the time she spent decorating the wreaths with Melania, Lycoris and Lucretia.

They were wrapped with pine to bring forth healing, mistletoe to bring fertility and love, yew aligning to the season of rebirth and holly for protection.

Each daughter of the house cut a strand of her hair and wrapped it around the wreath she made twinning her magic with the elements and the old souls protecting the Ancestral Home.

The wreaths would be hung on the rooms for seven days until the magic of the house accepted the offering and renowned its allegiance to the children of Mother Magic inhabiting it.

The Yule Log was to be cut and brought by the Lord of the family from Hatfield Forest, where Forest Elves lived and took care of the blessed trees devoted to the celebrations all year long.

“It’s time,” Hesper ordered and took her place to the west of the altar while Melania stood to the south. Hespera, Lucretia and Lycoris headed to the east.

Their positions represented The Maiden, The Mother and The Crone paying honour to Hecate.

Arcturus flicked his wand and laid the Yule long in the middle then stood next to his father, Regulus and Alphard.

Orion lighted an Aeternitas candle waiting for the witches to start their part.

Tally and Kreacher bowed their heads, paying their respects to the home that greeted them, to their masters and to Mother Magic who blessed them in abundance.

Melania took the candle first as the Mother, faced Hesper and started chanting in the Lost Language:

'It is the season of the Crone, the time of the Winter Goddess.

Tonight we celebrate the festival of the winter solstice,

the rebirth of the Sun, and the return of light to the Earth.

As the Wheel of the Year turns once more,

we honour the eternal cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth'

Hespera and Lucretia took a candle each and held it while Melania lighted them with hers.

They turned toward Hesper and said in unison:

'O Crone, the Wheel has turned once more.

It is time for the Maiden to claim what is now hers.

As you lie down for the winter, she is born once again.'

Orion handed his grandmother a candle. Hespera, as the youngest, lighted it for her.

Hesper faced her and Lucretia, smiled kindly and chanted:

'The days will now get longer, now the Sun has returned.

My season has ended, yet the season of the Maiden begins.

Listen to the wisdom of those who have come before you,

and yet be wise enough to make your own way.'

Finally, Lycoris received her candle. She looked at her mother as she recited her part:

'Thank you for the wisdom of your years,

and for seeing the season through to its end.

You have stepped aside that the new season may begin,

and for this, we give you honour.'

The four witches stood side by side, looked at the raging flames and chanted together:

'We make these offerings tonight,

to show our love to you, O Great Mother.

Please accept our gifts, and know that

we are entering this new season with joy in our hearts.'

The men took the candles. Arcturus as Lord Black received the Aeternitas candle first and hoisted the log onto the fire where it would burn for seven days.

The fire raged the moment it received the offering and everyone inhaled deeply as the air became thick with Dark magic and lightly scented with sulfur and smoke.

Hespera was more than a little surprised. Her blood sang with excitement, her core almost bursting with rejuvenated energy.

The hotter the flames burned, the harder it became to think straight. Her heart worked in a fast and broken rhythm she could feel against her ribs.

As she stared at the man next to her, his hair gleaming like ebony in the candlelight, she realized that her heart was pounding and her palms were clammy. Cold perspiration trickled down her back. Orion was right—she was so ignorant of the might of the gift she was blessed with.

A curious sadness and resentment surged through her as she understood how wrong she was.

Like her friends, she had always associated Dark magic with evil. She never understood the devotion and respect Dark Wizards held for the one who favoured them.

This knowledge straightened her resolve to fight Dumbledore and unveil the truth, to make everyone see the beauty of celebrating their magic and accepting that they were different.

Always attuned to her mood swings, Orion held her hand with reassuring calm. ’’How are you feeling?”

“I’m…overwhelmed.” She confessed unashamedly.

Regulus chuckled darkly. ”You seem to have missed a lot, my new favourite niece. It won’t matter though, we’ll make sure to put this transgression to rights.”

“Of course, we will,” Lycoris lifted her chin haughtily. “Any daughter of our house has to enjoy the Sacred Days to the fullest.”

Alphard joined the conversation. ”I’m glad I’m celebrating with you. To hear Walburga chanting again…” he shuddered with fake disgust before his eyes flared and he choked. ”The fire…”

“Oh, finally,” Sirius chuckled.

“I’m not sure I share your enthusiasm, Father,” Arcturus drawled nonchalantly but Hespera discerned the happy note colouring his voice.

Orion held her closer to his side as all eyes went to the fireplace.

The flames caressed the emerging silhouette lovingly while an amused voice broke lazily through the silence. ”What an honour it is to be greeted by the lot of you.”

“Merlin’s Mercy, it’s Cassiopeia,” Alphard groaned under his breath.

Hespera’s eyes remained glued to the fireplace as she became aware of the intense aura of the voice’s owner.

Her gaze travelled from the hem of stark black velvet robes to a pair of sharp, glinting silver-grey eyes.

Cassiopeia Black was a tall, wonderfully proportioned woman. Her pale skin was flawless, and her ebony hair was pinned up in an intricate knot. She had a presence that demanded respect.

However, she was stylish and impeccably groomed, and there was something so appealing about her that beauty seemed entirely superfluous.

She gave Arcturus a conspiratorial smile and curtsied mockingly. ’’Why, I believe you’re not thrilled to receive your favourite cousin again, My Lord.”

Arcturus lifted an eyebrow. ”Way to make an entrance Cassiopeia. In case you forgot, we were celebrating the Winter Solstice and you just stepped into the sacred fire ignited for the Yule Log.”

Cassiopeia came forward and waved her hand off. ”Not everyone is as perfect as you Arcturus. You know that I’m a devout follower, I made my sacrifice earlier and renowned my intent to Mother Magic.”

“And we do not want to learn more about your sacrifice,’’ Sirius intervened.

He hugged his niece and kissed her forehead softly.

Hesper, Melania and Lycoris greeted her after, seeming overjoyed with the sudden visit.

“Arcturus is right Cassiopeia,” Regulus smirked.

She levelled him with a haughty glance and grinned sharply. ’’Of course he is not. My sense of right and wrong is different from most people. You could say I’m a moral nihilist. Nevertheless, I am always right. Well, mostly.”

Orion shook his head and Hespera couldn’t contain her grin.

The woman was exactly like Sirius described her: sarcastic and unapologetically bold.

A tremor broke through her when Cassiopeia looked at her.

Her silver eyes oozed an unholy light, and then she leaned forward and whispered in her ear. ”Welcome back, Death’s Chosen.”

Chapter Text

‘’There’s no need to worry, it will be alright. I’ll be there to help if you need anything,’’ Orion whispered, his eyes studying the runes stitched on the bodice of Hespera’s dress.

He shook his head mystified by the beauty of his fiancée then added uncomfortably. ‘’Did Cassiopeia say anything?”

Perplexity wove across Hespera’s forehead. She struggled to find the words. “I don’t know how or why nevertheless, she knows—she knows who I am.’’

At that point, it might not have been entirely impossible. Despite her introversion, it wasn’t a secret that Cassiopeia inherited the late Elladora Black’s obscure talent; Necromancy.

His father tried everything, be it bribes, threats, and coercion to convince her to stay in London and help the family with her gift. 

Appalled by the thought and considering the restriction of her freedom the most repellent thing ever, she went into a fit of laughter, winked then apparated.

It was the day Lord Arcturus Sirius Black realized that Cassiopeia’s intractability surpassed his own and after a lifetime of bartering and bargaining, Arcturus had learned to recognize when the other party had reached the point at which they would not yield— and Cassiopeia would never abide by his laws.

They seldom heard from her after but knew that she was travelling far and wide, honing her skill, learning from several Oracles, Enchanters, Rune Masters, and generally, doing whatever she wanted.

While he was lost in his thoughts, Orion’s gaze slid bashfully over Hespera’s body, studying the gown and the perfection it was undoubtedly hiding.

By the time his eyes returned to her face, she looked flushed and a little shaken. With a hot stab in the pit of his stomach, he realized what he did.

He overstepped the boundaries again, and with Lycoris and Cassiopeia back home, he didn’t want to imagine what they would do if they learned about his transgressions.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking and then—“ he looked away from her and cleared his throat.

Clumsily, Hespera took his hand and smiled. “Both of us are new to this. I don’t mind being the sole object of your attention, not really. It’s flattering.”

Glancing into Hespera’s earnest face, Orion shook his head and reached out to draw her close.

He knew how little love she received in her previous life. How stifling the attention had been, always for the wrong reasons.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against his chest and sighed. Orion hesitated as if debating if he should follow his instincts again.

Hespera raised her head and her jewel-like eyes caught the light and shone brightly. Her lips rounded like a flower bud as she said his name in a soundless whisper.

He was aware of how much the heady magic of her first ritual affected her, yet he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed having her so close.

Tightening his grip, he drove his face into the fragrant silkiness of her skin and breathed her, absorbed her.

“I’m so happy, Orion. But I’m afraid it won’t last,” her warm, delicate hands came to the cold sides of his face. “But I know that you’re here, so I’m not afraid anymore,” she said as if trying to make herself believe it.

Breathing unevenly, Orion muttered. “We can fight anything, together.”

Something like bliss, only stronger, poured into his veins, intoxicating him and taking hold of his senses as he felt her lips on his.

She clung to him, kissing him eagerly and he staggered slightly. Orion tried to steady himself and end the madness knowing that he had to stop before they—

“Merlin’s Mercy!” he took his mouth from hers and let out a staggering breath when the wards alerted him of their eminent company.

Hespera’s eyes widened and she reddened when he shook his head and put a respectable distance between them.

A knock sounded and Orion cleared his throat. “You may come in.”

Cassiopeia breezed in and her eyes twinkled with amusement when she noticed their flushed state. “Young love is so sweet. Unfortunately, I can’t say I’ve experienced it before. Romantic love does not appeal to me.”

Hespera frowned which drew a grin from Cassiopeia.

“Don’t look at me like that, Lady Peverell. My little heart has always been swayed by other kinds of love. For instance, I love Death Magic and the seductive rupture it comes with.”

Orion’s heart jolted. “Cassiopeia, out with it. We have a party to attend and I don’t fancy having Hespera late for her first official appearance.”

Her silvery eyes searched them and gently, the tip of her thumb traced the edge of her lower lip. “I’ve been informed by some Kickboxer nd souls that the Mistress of Death has emerged. Imagine my surprise when Lycoris sent a letter telling me about your engagement to Lady Peverell.”

Hespera stood her ground and waited for his feral cousin to elaborate.

“Of course, I intend to help,” she said.

Then her demeanour changed and her lips quivered with disgust. “During my trip to Albania, I met a young wizard who was forcibly trying to dabble in Necromancy. I sensed greed and darkness in him and the souls protested his approach.”

Orion noticed right away how Hespera froze and her lips pressed together. “Tom Marvolo Riddle,” she hissed his name like a curse.

“Yes,” straight-faced, Cassiopeia answered.

“Where is he now?” Orion said hastily.

“He left after a while. I wasn’t inclined to follow his whereabouts, I had more pressing matters but I believe he’s the one you came for. My friends never lie.”

Orion winced. For a dizzying amount of reasons, he wasn’t interested in learning more about Cassiopeia’s friends. 

Hespera looked at the Ressurection Stone and Cassiopeia’s gaze followed her.

“Souls,” she breathed.

“Souls never lie, my dear. I don’t trust humans much,” came the unapologetic retort.

Hespera smiled and he shook his head.

“Thank you, Cassiopeia. I appreciate the help,” Hespera said sincerely and he couldn’t agree more.

He knew how much her secret burdened her, how much she yearned to act as herself. Cassiopeia’s impromptu return was a gift they would cherish.

“No, thank you, Hespera. Your appearance gave me purpose after I wandered aimlessly for years.”

Hespera let her fingers curl gently over Cassiopeia’s.

The Resurrection Stone gave a glassy luster and Cassiopeia shuddered.

“The souls recognize you, Necromancer and thank you for being gentle with them,” Hespera whispered in wonder.

That drew a quick, repressed chuckle from Orion, one that earned him his relative’s deadly glare.

Who would’ve thought that Cassiopeia Black could be gentle with anyone?

Hespera was genuinely nervous. The night was novel and exciting.

Nothing prepared her for the sight of 12, Grimmauld Place before the Blacks perished.

It was like stepping into another world—one of beauty and grace. 

Everywhere she looks there was something spectacular to see: black marble floors, chandeliers made of crystal and precious stones and hand-woven carpets. 

Yet, the glittering light and floral scent that filled her nose didn’t hide the ruthlessness and determination.

The look in Lord Arcturus Sirius Black’s eyes was clear, ‘no one held a flame to my family.’

The tables were topped with a ridiculous amount hors-d’oeuvres served on polished silver.

She wondered how much time Tally and Kreacher spent preparing for tonight’s event.

She felt so many eyes on her as she made her entrance, arm in arm with her fiancée.

Her heels clicked on the floor and she kept her face neutral although her heart wrestled her ribcage to escape.

“Lady Peverell.”

She attempted to hide shock at seeing the face linked to the soft voice.

It was Draco’s grandfather, Lord Abraxas Malfoy.

She accepted his greeting graciously and sensed the change in Orion.

 “Orion,” Abraxas nodded and Orion met his gaze, waiting for something. “Can I offer my gratitude for this beautiful party? I can feel the effort Lady Black put into it.”

Hespera almost snorted. It seemed that the facial similarities weren’t the only thing Lucius and his father shared.

“Thank you,” Orion offered coolly.

Abraxas held her gaze as he spoke clearly. “I have to admit that I was impressed by your performance, Lady Peverell. It has been a while since we had such an entertaining session.”

“Thank you, Lord Malfoy,” Hespera said earnestly.

To be praised by a Malfoy…

“No sense, please call me Abraxas. We’re on the same side and we have much work to do in the future,” his smile widened a bit.

“Are sure about that, Abraxas?” Orion said calmly. “Will you stick to this side from now on?”

Abraxas’ silvery eyes searched Orion and he shook his head slightly. “If I have it my way, I would act differently. I regret not being able to go back in time.”

Orion seemed to relish his former friend’s suppressed regret. Hespera saw the struggle on his face: pride, fury and resentment.

“I hope I won’t regret it later,” Orion countered reasonably as he offered his hand.

The two friends shook hands and Hespera wondered what this union would bring.

“Are we interrupting something?” Alphard looked sardonic as he joined them, followed by Corvus Lestrange.

“No, you’re not,” Hespera glanced at him. He was smiling, his keen gaze travelling over Orion and Abraxas.

“Happy Winter Solstice, Hespera,” Corvus greeted gracefully, his tone hinting at closeness and familiarity.

Over the past weeks, she learned more about Alphard’s friend. He was even-tempered and guileful. He was a worthy ally she intended to keep close.

“Happy Winter Solstice, Corvus.”

Hespera’s eyes widened when Fleamont, Euphemia, Charlus and Dorea joined the festivities.

Alphard grinned, not missing the flick of surprise. “Uncle Arcturus invited them this year. He reckoned that you’ll need your family.

Warmth spread through her at the thoughtful gesture. Despite his stern demeanour, Arcturus never failed to surprise her.

“Excuse me, I want to greet the Potters,” she said hastily.

Orion smiled. “We’ll have a lengthy discussion later. We have to prepare diligently for the next session.”

“I agree,” Abraxas nodded and his hand clamped over his walking stick. ‘’Lord Diggory should learn his place before opening his mouth.”

“Indeed,” Hespera heard the amusement shimmering in Corvus' voice.

“Until later, then,” Orion smirked and steered her toward the Potters.

She stood still while Euphemia fussed over her.

Part of her basked in the attention. But the ache in her chest worsened. She cursed Tom Riddle for cheating her out of her family.

Swiftly, Fleamont bent and kissed her hand. “You seem happy, Hespera and I can’t ask for more.”

“I am happy,” she answered. “I’ve never thought that the Sacred Days can influence our magic this much.”

“You have plenty to learn, Hespera. But we are here to help,” Charlus interjected.

Hespera swallowed and asked. “But…do you celebrate the Olde Ways and partake in rituals?”

She didn’t want to offend her cousins, yet she needed to know.

Fleamont grinned and his eyes wandered around the room before he answered.

“I don’t understand why the thought that we are Light is lodged in so many minds. The Potters were always Grey. We started taking the Light side in the past years because we noticed the emergence of so much Pureblood bigotry and we couldn’t in good conscience back such a biased stance.”

“So, you celebrate Samhain and the rest of the Sacred Days?” Hespera couldn’t believe her ears. It was another truth that has been craftily hidden from her, making her ignorant of her roots.

Euphemia chuckled. “My maiden name is Fawley. Our magic is Dark Grey, so yes. Of course, we follow the Olde Ways and celebrate Mother Magic on every occasion.”

Dorea seemed bewildered. “But who told you that the Potters are Light? It’s not a secret that they’re Grey. First and foremost, they’re the Peverells’ descendants.”

Taken aback by her keenness, Hespera blinked. ‘’I was just assuming.”

“Hespera still has so much to learn, but she’s quick to grasp whatever I teach her,” Melania joined the small gathering and once again, she was thankful to the sharp woman.

“Come, dinner is ready,” she offered and Orion took her arm, ushering her to the dining room.

Walking side by side with her fiancée, Hespera tried to digest all that happened in the silence that followed, and her brows rushed down as she concluded:

She was misinformed by those she trusted.

She had a large family and powerful allies that would back her now.

She was ready to fight all forms of prejudice and make everyone understand that Dark did not equal evil.

And…Tom Marvolo Riddle was somewhere in Europe, dabbling in Obscure branches of Magic and plotting something.

“But we will be ready for him when he comes back ,” Death said quietly.

“Yes, we will,” she agreed.

Chapter Text

Hespera tried to hide her frustration but Orion was used to the array of her facial expressions.

He let out a sigh. “You shouldn’t take his hostility personally. He’s but a fool swamped by his loyalty to Dumbledore.’’

His father decided to interfere. “Orion is right. Diggory has been a thorn in our side for too long. I pray that the new alliances we secured will take care of his meddling.”

“But we have to pass this law today. I need to make sure that Rem—“ her eyes widened and she bit her lip recognizing the near-slip.

Orion cleared his throat and ignored his father’s narrowed eyes.

“What Hespera meant to say is that the Werewolves' problem is something we have to take care of at once. We can’t delay acting knowing the dangers it might entail later.”

Arcturus lifted an eyebrow and directed his attention back to Lord Fulcran Lestrange, who seemed enthralled by their conversation.

“Thank you,” Hespera leaned until her lips brushed against his ear, sending sweet shivers down his back.

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled.

Orion knew how much securing a solution to Lycanthropy meant to her. The Wolfsbane wasn’t invented yet. According to his fiancée’s memories, Damocles Belby introduced the miraculous potion around 1970. 

Hespera was adamant that they couldn’t wait for the potion genius to grow up and get the idea. Thanks to her Occlumency, she remembered bits of the original formula and intended to seek Regulus and Alphard’s help and create the cure, saving numerous lives in the meanwhile.

However, she needed the Wizengamot's accord before launching the project.

Regulus and Alphard would require the help of volunteer werewolves while doing their research, not to mention the funds as most of the ingredients she mentioned were either rare or awfully expensive.

Hespera was ready to part with a hefty sum from her Peverell inheritance, but he understood her need to make Wizarding Britain see the werewolves for what they are: normal wizards saddled by a little furry problem. She aspired to pave the route for their reintegration into the wizarding society and secure their future.

They could hear the muttering in the Light camp and Orion knew that they were heading toward a lengthy session.

He noticed how hard Diggory’s mouth looked, how his eyes sparkled with resignation. He didn’t like the look he exchanged with Tiberius Nott.

Would the fool seek some Dark Lords’ help to trample upon their propositions?

He wouldn’t put it behind the bigoted Caldwell Diggory.

Fleamont Potter shook his head and Harfang Longbottom seemed on the verge of taking the man by the throat.

“Don’t you think that Lady Peverell’s appearance made our sessions more entertaining?” A lazy voice drawled.

Orion whirled around to give Abraxas an exasperated look.

“Are you sure that Lady Ione won’t mind your obsession with my fiancée, Malfoy?”

Abraxas smirked. “Ione appreciates how hard I work to secure my family’s future. She can’t wait to meet your fiancée.”

Orion deliberately ignored him and waited for Lord Fawley to address them again.

Wilhemina Tuft was in a heated debate with Dumbledore and he had an inkling where it was heading.

“Orion?” Hespera whispered and he turned around to look at her.

“Do you think we’ll win today?”

She waited for his confirmation and Orion wanted to take her in his arms and shield her from the political circles’ atrocity.

A gentleman, after all, would have said something gallant and reassured his lady, even if it was a lie, just to be polite and save her from the sour taste of uncertainty.

Orion wasn’t that wizard.

His courtship has been unconventional from the beginning. It started with him meeting his future son’s goddaughter and claiming her as his own.

It started with her trusting him with her mind and he had no intention of ever lying to her.

“We might lose a round but rest assured that we’ll win the war,” he said instead.

Hespera’s shoulders slumped but she smiled at him, thanking him for his honesty.

A moment later, a strange glint in her eyes surprised him. 

“But I’m not going to lose this round,” she said, visibly satisfied with whatever she remembered.

Before he could ask, Minister Tuft spoke. “Very well. Today we will discuss the proposition offered by Lady Peverell, Lord Black, Lord Potter and Lord Longbottom.”

Many Lords grumbled and Tift’s glared with displeasure.

“The proposition involves creating a potion that helps werewolves during the monthly transformation. According to the research Potion Master Regulus Black so gallantly offered, the Wolfsbane will restrain the aggression and madness linked to Lycanthropy. The werewolves will still transform but there will be no danger to neighbouring wizards and witches. This cure will also help werewolves recover after the strenuous shift. Their core supplies will replenish faster and they will get back to their daily tasks in a couple of days. Most importantly, it will reduce, if not eliminate, the tendency to go rogue, hence the accidents many a magical child suffered due to rogue werewolves’ bites.”

Minister Tuft handed Lord Fawley the papers and he seemed excited to go through them again.

Whispers, astonished gasps and cries of outrage filled the vast chambers following the Minister’s announcement.

“I won’t allow you to invite werewolves back to live among us!’’ Diggory, unsurprisingly, called out first, his voice burning with irritation.

“We should certainly invite them back and reintegrate them into our society. In case you forgot most of them were born as wizards,” Fleamont interjected surprising everyone with his snide tone.

“I second Lord Potter,” Harfang Longbottom stood abruptly. ”This is as much their home as it is yours. While you’re acting all high and mighty, remember that most Pureblood families harbour creature blood. We’re determined to end all forms of bigotry and segregation among Mother Magic children and if that means putting up with your horrid behaviour, then put up with you we will.”

“Why, I never—“ Corvus Lestrange called over Orion’s shoulder.

“Order!” Minister Tuft snapped. 

“Merlin’s Mercy,” Arcturus muttered to himself and Orion gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as Albus Dumbledore quit arguing with Lord Fawley and turned his attention to the mound of battling Lords and Ladies.

“It’s astonishing how cool he seems. I know what he’s going to say,” Abraxas remarked.

“I’m not surprised,” Hespera replied. “He enjoys causing stirs and pretending to solve problems.”

She sounded appalled. Orion reached out and patted her hand.

“It’s alright. People will quit believing in him eventually. He can barely stand to all of us as it is because he knows that we’re united and nothing can tear us apart again.”

“How can you be so certain?” Hespera asked.

“Because it’s the first time that the most prominent families of The Sacred Twenty Eight are on the same side, despite their Factions. Dumbledore should’ve noticed by now the shift in the power balance.”

“I’m impressed,” she whispered sounding intrigued.

“Why is that?” Orion lifted a questioning eyebrow.

“You’re too sharp, Orion. I can barely discern the undercurrents filling this room.”

Her jovial mood lightened his own and he couldn’t deny the pleasure that washed over him because of her compliment.

“You’ll learn eventually, Lady Peverell. You’re but a novice; a novice who is doing so well if I might add.”

“Is Lady Peverell ready to explain the reasons that prompted this proposition and how it will benefit our society?” Lord Fawley asked.

“I am,” Hespera answered.

The expression on Diggory, Nott and some other fools made Orion almost laugh.

“Let’s begin then. Why Wolfsbane? Do you believe that we can stop werewolves from turning rogue and reintegrate them back into our society?” Minister tuft started.

“If I may, Minister,” Dumbledore interjected to the displeasure of many attendants.

“You may but make it short Dumbledore. I don’t fancy spending the night here,” Tuft growled.

Dumbledore nodded and without acknowledgement, he started. ‘’This proposition carries the kind intention of the goodhearted Lords and Ladies who worked on it. However, we can’t in good conscience welcome back notorious werewolves in our peaceful world. Take Alpha Greyback for example and his hideous crimes. He was the reason we lost many promising magical children. How can we accept him among us?”

“I second Mr Dumbledore,” Diggory declared as soon as the tirade was over.

Slowly, Hespera stood up and faced her previous mentor.

“But who made Alpha Greyback so? Who are you to judge him and decide his fate and that of the biggest pack in Europe? Aren’t werewolves blessed with magic like us? Weren’t many pack members normal wizards and witches before they were bitten by rogues? Isn’t our responsibility as the rulers of Magical Britain to make sure that such accidents don’t happen again?”

Orion’s smirk was vicious. He realized then that Hespera had no intention of dragging the argument with Dumbledore and his ilk. She had cleverly tricked him into accommodating her if he didn’t want to seem like a prejudiced foul.

“But how can you guarantee the efficiency of this potion?” Lord Nott demanded.

“That’s what Potion Masters AND the volunteers are for, Lord Nott. The cure won’t be sold until we make sure it’s working,” Fulcran Lestrange seemed exasperated.

Orion heard whispers about the Lestranges harbouring the Crow Soul in their blood, which might explain Fulcran’s excitement about the new law.

“You want to attract werewolves to our society and have them interact with us?” Lord Doge sounded incredulous.

“We want to invite volunteers so we can conduct an extremely important experiment. They will be supervised at all times by professionals. My brother is the best Potion Master in Europe and I dare you to find fault with his previous work,” Arcturus Black finally joined the debate. His eyes were shooting daggers at a very pale Demos Doge.

“I —I meant no offence, Lord Black. Master Regulus is a well-respected figure in our country,” Demos stuttered shaking his head.

“My neck is beginning to ache from turning my head back and forth during this interesting altercation,” Abraxas snickered under his breath.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Orion said. “And acting terribly childish.”

“I’m Lord Malfoy and I’ll act any way I want to act. Now, let me teach these fools how to be reasonable. I went to a great deal of trouble to secure this alliance and I won’t let them waste my time.”

Orion shook his head at his old friend. Only a Malfoy would confess his manipulations with a straight face.

“My fellow Lords and Ladies,” the prat drawled in a refined way. “Why are arguing over something so obvious? Most of our society will embrace the idea of bringing an end to rogue werewolves. I know that my wife will sleep better at night knowing that our future child will never run the risk of falling victim to a mad wolf’s bite. Refusing a solution that will make our lives safer is merely shallowness and stubbornness. It shows immaturity and I can’t in good conscience, turn my back on a big part of our world. Alpha Greyback’s pack is the biggest in Europe. It constitutes seven per cent of Magical Britain's population. Can you tell me that their problem is meaningless? That it doesn’t concern us?”

“I don’t know enough words to form a sentence that expresses my feelings,” Corvus murmured and Hespera snorted.

“It is shameful indeed,” Fleamont agreed with Abraxas Malfoy, which was a first in recorded history.

“You’ve spent too much time with your children, Lord Doge reading bedtime tales for them. You need to go out more often maybe then you’d notice that the world is changing and we have to follow suit. We have to look for solutions that our parents and grandparents failed to think about. We have to make this world a better place for our children and grandchildren. It’s our duties as Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot.”

“He’s a charmer,” Arcturus chuckled and Hespera shared his mirth.

Fleamont Potter was very eloquent indeed and only a fool would underestimate his darker side.

“We were entrusted with this burden,” Fulcran Lestrange spoke again. “It doesn’t matter if we like this duty or not. We are the guardians of Magical Britain and we have to do our job no matter our personal feelings,” his words were laced with steel and his deep eyes were directed at Dumbledore who couldn’t hide his displeasure.

“Very well,” Dumbledore sighed, “but how can you guarantee that if the experiment fails this incident won’t cause more problems with Alpha Greyback and his pack?”

Hespera and their allies did not remark on the outrageous comment. She did smile, though.

“If you want, I can give you my word as Lady Peverell that the experiment will not fail. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. We intend to end this feud with werewolves and secure a better future for them and Mother Magic will bless our work and see that we succeed.”

Diggory’s gasp sounded like a hiccup but Hespera kept gazing into the challenging blue eyes of Dumbledore.

Neither one said another word to the other for a long, long while.

The Wizengamot chambers were filled to capacity and Orion was certain that every single one watched the performance with rapt attention.

His heart beat faster and he recognized the feeling.

This woman impressed him. She looked too beautifully composed as she stood to Wizarding Britain’s Hero. Her posture was ramrod straight and she never once turned her attention from the high dais. He saw her hands, however. They were clenched with fury while dark flames licked at her skin.

Orion moved stealthily closer, then reached over and covered her left hand with his. She didn’t turn her gaze and the fire didn’t burn his flesh. She, however, latched on the comfort of his hand and held tight.

They stayed like that until Dumbledore lowered his gaze and turned toward a frustrated Minister.

The bell chimed three a cloak and many Lords grumbled their annoyance.

Minister tuft glared at Diggory and Doge. “We worked together all morning long and I believe it’s time we put an end to this unproductive debate. Those in favour of launching the Wolfsbane Project, raise your hands.”

“Finally,” his father sighed.

Orion noticed that the majority of the wands were raised. He kept his face closed off as he glanced at Dumbledore who was arguing with Lord Fawley.

He hadn’t raised his voice but there was an apparent bite to his tone.

“I can’t understand him,” Hespera whispered. “I mean he accepted Remus in Hogwarts and planted the Whomping Willow to protect him. Why is he opposing this law, now?”

Orion rubbed her hand in an absentminded action and was surprised when she returned the favour.

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions but maybe Remus Lupin was a special case,” he said.

“What about the other victims of rogue werewolves? Don’t they matter as well?” she was frowning now and Orion was almost sorry she was reminded of her past so often.

He decided to steer her thoughts away and not end their productive day on such a sour note.

“Whatever his agenda is, he won’t win. We’re ready for him, Hespera.”

“But I want to understand,” she blurted out, ‘’I should be thankful for the chance I was granted to right the wrongs he caused. Yet, I can’t help but feel helpless.”

‘’You’re not helpless, far from it. Look at what you did today. This project may end all our troubles with rogue werewolves. We can reach an agreement with Alpha Greyback and—“

He breathed for her ears only, “Remus Lupin won’t become a werewolf.”

Hespera gasped and Orion wanted to puff up like a rooster—or Abraxas Malfoy.

“I see,” Lord Fawley’s words halted their interaction, “it seems that most of you see the merit in this project. Very well, Potion Master Regulus Black with the help of a team of his choosing will be trusted with conducting this experiment. The Ministry Of Magic will supervise their progress and report to the Wizengamot directly and—“ Lord Fawley turned pleading eyes toward Tuft, who shrugged, and said. “We’ll contact Alpha Greyback and ask for his cooperation.”

Hespera’s smile was radiant. “Thank you so much, Arcturus.” She said. “I should warn you though, I sent a letter to Alpha Greyback asking him to grant us an audience —me and Regulus and Alphard, that is.”

Arcturus chuckled heartedly and Orion’s expression didn’t show a hint of surprise or disagreement.

His fiancée was a Gryffindor through and through and it was time he accepted his predicament.

That night, Arcturus decided to celebrate their victory. Alphard joined them at dinner and his grey eyes shone with pleasure.

“This is the breakthrough I was waiting for. I can’t believe that you thought of something so ingenious, Hespera,” he grinned.

“And I can’t decide if this is a compliment or you are being insensitive. Let me tell you that my ideas are always brilliant,” Hespera answered haughtily and ignored Orion’s raised brow.

“They’re indeed,” Melania smiled, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You own the right to the experiment now, brother?” Lycoris asked.

“Of course I do. I Ordered most of the ingredients and started on the formula. It will take some time but I’ll do it eventually. I love a good challenge,” the glow of excitement changed Regulus’ impassive face, imparting such charm and warmth that Hespera was almost startled.

“He’s like that whenever he starts a new project,” Orion whispered.

“Everything that occurred today is thanks to Hespera,” Arcturus paused, studying her, “I confess that I never considered the werewolves' matter but as I reflected on our last conversation, I understood the need to end the feud with magical creatures, mainly werewolves, vampires and centaurs.”

“Arcturus is right,” Cassiopeia sipped her tea leisurely. “Everyone is used to doing Dumbledore’s errands since he won his legendary duel. I’m not even sure that he killed Grindelwald.”

Hespera choked on her tea and looked at Cassiopeia with wide eyes.

“What? Nothing escapes my notice. I conversed with a soul that belonged to one of Nurmengard's inmates. He’s alive.’’

“What!” Arcturus thundered, “and you thought that it is wise to keep this bit of information to yourself?”

“Of course, I did,” Cassiopeia waved his concern off, ‘’I don’t care about politics.”

“But you’re family,” Regulus reminded her gently.

Hespera noticed more than once that the Potion Master had a shrewder understanding of human nature than anyone she met despite the long hours he spent in the seclusion of his lab.

He was eccentric, driven, manipulative and sharp.

Cold as a glacier, Cassiopeia grinned viciously. “I know and that’s why I came back. I plan to support my dear family in their future endeavours.”

Arcturus’ expression let them know that he was besieged by the need to give his cousin a long lecture.

Nevertheless, he knew that it wouldn’t change a thing.

Cassiopeia would always do what she wanted.

After dinner, Hespera accompanied Cassiopeia to the Ritual Room. Orion had some work to do and Alphard and Regulus hurried back to the lab.

Hespera was startled when she noticed a bejewelled chalice, a silver ritual dagger, a collection of strange crystal gems and pottery vessels covered in Ancient Runes.

“What’s this?” she asked, looking at the woman who seemed pleased with herself.

“With your permission, I’d like to ask for the honour to become your Blood-Sister. I was blessed with Necromancy and you’re Death’s Chosen. With our blood merged, we can uncover long-lost secrets and explore undisclosed branches of magic,” Cassiopeia looked at her pointedly.

“Let her have a drop of your blood, Mistress. She has been a devout worshipper and a proper witch, well, almost with her penchant for trouble,” Death spoke in her head.

“But—“ Hespera asked.

“Give her your blood,” Death said carefully, “Cassiopeia is a Maiden of Death. Her life was pledged to me. She will know no love and bear no child. Hereafter, I shall compensate her dedication. As my chosen, you will guide her and quench her thirst for the knowledge concerning my realm.”

“Very well,” Hespera nodded and held the dagger. Looking into Cassiopeia's eyes, she sliced her palm and offered the dagger back.

Cassiopeia bowed her head, took it and mimicked her. Her eyes were full of excitement.

Hespera extended her hand and Cassiopeia gripped it tightly.

Her silver-grey eyes shone Avada Kedavra green for a heartbeat before she blinked.

“Soror In Sanguine,” she whispered reverently.

“Soror In Sanguine,” Hespera grinned and before she dragged her new sister into her arms.

Death Magic blessed them and with her sister’s warmth seeping through her fine robes, Hespera finally believed that she was no longer alone.

Chapter Text

Over the past few months, Orion had watched Hespera’s unflagging resolution to protect all magicals, to make sure that the horrors she witnessed wouldn’t occur again.

He had seen her spend the nights talking to Kreacher, reminiscing about the first and second wizarding wars and the casualties they suffered.

He had seen her returning to her room late evening after being taught all day by his mother and Lycoris the infinite variety of rules for young ladies who wished to make their presence known in Wizarding Britain.

Early every morning, he had seen her retrace her steps to the Ritual Room, where she would meet Cassiopeia and do Merlin knew what.

He was swamped by a growing admiration for her buoyancy and strength. 

So far, he had tried to support her as much as he could and when he thought about the fights that lay ahead of them, a feeling of apprehension rose in him.

Hespera was leaving her mark everywhere she went.

In the Wizengamot chambers, Hespera was showing an uncanny talent in navigating the hazards of Pureblood politics.

At first, she had been daunted by the challenge of learning so much, yet with time, she gained enough confidence and her true mettle started to show like a full moon that has been hidden for a long time by thick clouds.

And so, as he looked around, Orion wasn’t certain if he should laugh or just follow his instincts that kept screaming at him to drag his fiancée into his arms and apparate back home.

“Remind me again why are we doing this? I'm a Black and self-preservation should be my middle name,” Alphard murmured under his breath.

“I believe you wanted a breakthrough. Luckily for you, Hespera was eager to help,” Orion answered tactfully.

“I know, but ‘Luna Silva’?” Alphard whimpered, “I don’t share Father’s beliefs and preconceived ideas however, are you sure we’ll be safe here?”

“Stop acting like an overindulged fool, Alphard,” Regulus Black chided, “I wonder why you are overlooking the copious amount of rare plants we will be granted access to while we are here and worrying about werewolves instead.”

“Maybe because I’m still too young and handsome to die, Uncle,” Alphard retorted as his eyes scanned the thick foliage surrounding them.

“Are they always like this?” Hespera whispered and he heard the amusement lacing her voice.

“Yes. Mainly when they’re excited about a new experiment,” Orion staunchly ignored his uncle’s raised eyebrow.

This trip was odd indeed, something he never planned or thought about before.

After she sent a request to Alpha Fenrir Greyback, Hespera waited patiently for his answer confident that he wouldn’t ignore the opportunity to give his pack a better future.

What they didn’t see coming, was the Alpha’s sole condition.

He refused to step into Magical London until the negotiations were over. It seemed the Alpha of the biggest pack in Europe did not trust the Ministry, not a bit.

Hespera agreed, excited at the prospect of visiting the pack’s territory, a place that no wizard set a foot in before.

That’s how they found themselves in the Scottish Highlands, in the heart of Luna Silva, the sacred forest of the Greyback pack.

“I did not expect suck…finesse,” Regulus drawled, admiring the huge gate they reached at last.

There was a bronze sculpted crest in the middle and the seal was made of two wolves holding a claymore each with their fangs and claws bared.

Something about the magic seeping from the crest made Orion’s beast growl and claw at his insides, looking for a way out.

His creature felt challenged and he closed his eyes and took a deep while he checked his Occlumency shields.

It was the worst time for his animal to show itself and he shuddered at the thought of the chaos which would ensue from such action.

Hespera looked at him worriedly and he plastered a smile over his lips. “I’m fine. Let’s get in and be done with this meeting.”

She nodded reluctantly and put her hand over the crest. Not a moment later, the gates were opened and a huge man blocked their way. 

“Who are you and what do you want?” he demanded harshly.

Hespera rose to her full height, which was nothing praiseworthy compared to the seven feet werewolf looking down at her.

“I’m Lady Hespera Peverell, these gentlemen are Heir Orion Black, Potion Master Regulus Black and Potion Apprentice Mr Alphard Black. We have an appointment with Alpha Greyback.” Hespera answered unbothered by his unfriendly demeanour.

“Very well. I am Beta Caelan MacGriogair. Follow me.’’

The Beta turned without giving them time to get their bearings and Orion took Hespera’s arm and followed heedfully.

Alphard and Regulus remained close behind, making sure that Hespera was safe at all times and no wonder, having their wands at the ready.

Werewolves were stronger physically, mainly born-werewolves.

He heard tales about Alpha Fenrir reporting his ability to have the creature’ strength without needing to shift under the full moon.

If worse came to worst, a bloody battle was ahead of them and he wasn’t even sure that they would be able to leave the forest unscathed.

He, however, trusted in his instincts and they were urging him to trust in his Hespera’s ability to convince the Alpha and secure a future for all the children of the moon.

Looking around, Orion noticed that the Fort wasn’t as sturdy as it looked from the outside.

He sensed numerous auras inside and he surmised that the pack members were crammed between the magically warded walls.

Of course, the werewolves would need the forest during the full moon and the mating cycles, not to mention their strong link with nature being part-beasts.

But for these numerous people to live inside one Fort…Orion wondered if they were comfortable or had any privacy at all.

“This is horrible,” Hespera hissed as if she was reading his mind.

“It is,” Regulus interjected, his brows furrowed. “Werewolves have heightened senses and are reported to be extremely independent. For them to be forced to live here is a travesty. I reckon it’s due to their meagre resources.”

Hespera’s grip on his arm tightened and Orion wanted to rebuke his uncle for speaking too freely but knew it wouldn’t do.

The last thing he wanted was to trouble Hespera.

However, she needed to see the truth, as they did.

It saddened him that the prejudice against Werewolves would propel them to follow Voldemort in the belief that they would secure a better future.

“It’s our fault,” she whispered dejectedly, “Wizards have no virtues whatsoever. They’re so narrow-minded.”

“Most of them are anyway,” Alphard nodded, “I’m glad that you come up with this brilliant idea, Hespera.”

“No need to thank me, it’s the least I can do. All I ask is that you work diligently and produce the potion at your earliest convenience.”

“We will. Don’t worry dearest niece,” Regulus said, his voice reverberating with the confidence only a Master of his calibre could possess.

“Alpha Greyback is waiting for you,” Caelan announced, “make sure not to flick your wands in his presence.”

Orion remained silent, letting his gaze pass over the different doors.

His magic roamed free sensing the different protective wards.

The magic surrounding the Fort was potent and complicated. The Wolf’s essence was woven into the different layers, making his creature snarl feeling trapped.

It was not surprising that no wizard could get in uninvited.

“Go on,” Caelan opened the door and Orion winced.

The Alpha’s presence was a challenge to his inner animal.

“Orion?” Hespera tugged on his arm. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine. Let’s not keep him waiting.”

“Well said, lad. I don’t wait for wizards, ever.” The strong voice was edged with mockery.

“Bloody hell,” Alphard snorted.

Regulus looked at his nephew exasperatedly and took a step forward.

“Thank you for agreeing to a meeting Alpha Greyback. I’m Potion Master Regulus Black, this is my Apprentice Alphard Black. The other two are Lady Hespera Peverell and Heir Orion Black, my other nephew.”

“I know,” Fenrir smirked. “I recognized your smells from the letter you sent.”

He ushered them inside and took a seat behind his thick oak desk.

“He’s— I mean he’s huge,” Hespera gasped and he wanted to glare at the behemoth scrutinizing them with his arms crossed nonchalantly over his chest.

Alpha Fenrir Greyback was huge indeed, towering over the Beta who wasn’t by any means a small man.

He had a wild mane of dark brown hair that tumbled over his wide shoulders and two green eyes that flashed gold whenever he blinked.

His attire was simple and plain, attesting to the economical struggles the pack was facing.

Fenrir directed his gaze to Hespera, and they were definitely molten gold as he spoke. “I was surprised by your letter, Lady Peverell. No one ever considered our living conditions and I have to confess that it made me wonder what prompted this idea,” his voice was unfailingly neutral and Orion knew that he was looking for any sign pointing at a treachery.

Although she was taught how to act in the presence of the notorious werewolf, Hespera wasn’t one to cower. 

She locked her gaze with the Alpha and said. “Perhaps it seems dubious that we would include your welfare in our Wizengamot sessions. Yet, keep in mind that I’m not your usual witch. I won’t get into details but I’ll tell you this: one of the greatest men I’ve ever encountered was a werewolf, like you. He was bitten while still very young,”

Orion sensed the shift in Hespera’s aura and knew that she hasn’t fully forgiven Fenrir for his past crime.

‘’He led a pitiful life despite his brilliance. He lost his family, his friends and his faith in wizardkind. Despite that, he never veered from the right path. He fought for what he believed in until his last breath. He was the father of my godson and the strongest man I know and to express my gratitude, I’m willing to help the werewolves have a better life. The Wolfsbane is the answer. The Ministry can’t complain about sudden attacks anymore and you will experience a less straining shift. More importantly, you will be granted your rights as citizens of this country. I know that there are many promising young minds in this pack and that it’s very wrong of us to deny them the opportunity to shine. I can’t promise a letter from Hogwarts yet, what I can promise instead is a chance that you should take.”

Fenrir glanced at her with mild surprise and the glint in his golden eyes was blinding.

Orion put his hand in his pocket as his claws fought to wipe the smile from the arrogant Alpha.

The bastard remained silent, tapping his fingers over the desk and everyone waited with bated breath for his answer.

“For a witch, you noticed so much, you learned so much, Lady Peverell,” he said with a rough voice, his accent more pronounced, “forgive me—I seem to have become accidentally less lucid.”

He reached for a tumbler of currant-grain ale and waved his hand. Five thistle glasses appeared out of thin air and he poured the brown liquid generously into the glasses and then directed them toward his guests.

Everyone held his glass begrudgingly. It wouldn’t do to offend the host, more so when he was the strongest werewolf in Europe.

Alpha Greyback took an ample swallow then smiled and Orion noticed the pointed fangs that showed.

When their gazes locked, Fenrir winked and he froze when he heard his voice in his head.

“You are harbouring a very majestic beast, Orion Arcturus Black and I can’t wait to confront it one day. I believe it will give my wolf the challenge he craves,” he finished his dare with a wide smile that showed his fangs fully and Orion battled the growl that wanted to leave his throat.

“Splendid,” Fenrir clapped his hands together ignoring him, “Lady Peverell basically convinced me to partake in this experiment and now, I would enjoy hearing the details from you, Master Black. Afterwards, we’ll have a meeting with the volunteers and arrange an appropriate schedule. ”

Regulus straightened his back and his eyes glowed with delight.

Orion wanted to sigh. It was never a good idea to ask his uncle to explain his work. The man was exceedingly passionate about his potions.

Alphard shot him a derisive glance and he glared at him, then returned his attention to his glass, swirling the ale until it glittered like amber.

There seemed no way to leave the Fort before the night fell.

Chapter Text

Hespera woke up a few days later to the sun streaming in with a kiss of warmth. 

The bed was beautifully comfortable, courtesy of Kreacher no doubt, and she was tempted not to leave it for the rest of the day.

She was aware that he popped into her room several times during the night and fell asleep again and again at the foot of her bed.

Her mind wandered to her last trip to Luna Silva Forest and she couldn’t hold back her sad smile.

She made sure that Remus would never suffer again and she couldn’t be prouder.

She kept her word to herself and started changing the Wizarding World and steering it toward a better future. She pushed swiftly and confidently with firm resolution and her bravery paid off.

Who would’ve thought that she would join hands together with the notorious Alpha Fenrir Greyback?

She still remembered how many suffered from his rogue tendencies and now, hopefully, he wouldn’t lose his human half to his feral wolf.

She smiled the moment she found Kreacher waiting for her at the door of her room.

“Mistress Hespera is awake,” her little friend pointed out. Mistress Cassiopeia gave instructions for Kreacher to bring Mistress to the Ritual Room.”

Hespera’s eyes widened as she remembered what day it was and what awaited her.

With enthusiasm, she padded to her window to watch the sunrise and breathe in what seemed to be a tang of Gardenia and Magnolia, Melania’s favourite flowers.

Not long after taking a relaxing bath, she joined her Blood-Sister down.

Cassiopeia smiled with determination and offered. “Good day to you. Be thankful that you can look so beautiful at this hour. Orion can learn how to draw and paint just from looking at you.”

Hespera shook her head and strode toward the large table where seven Babylon candles were floating over the Runes Cassiopeia drew.

She recognized some of the crystals that were organized according to an intricate pattern.

For a moment Cassiopeia closed her eyes and when she opened them, Hespera met her dancing silver eyes. “While I’m not one for plebeian sentiments like anticipation and wistful dreams, I can’t deny how much I have waited for this day.” She said brightly and Hespera’s smile gentled.

Watching Cassiopeia so relaxed was a rare occurrence that a few were allowed to glimpse. She felt the budding bond in her core stir with expectancy and froze.

She had been treated well since arriving at 12, Grimmauld Place. 

Her dream of a home with people who cared about her and a family of her own, rose unbidden to her mind, and with it came a familiar lump in her throat. 

She had wanted all this, she thought, to let that longing overwhelm her and get all that she lost back.

She folded her arms over her chest, ignoring her wandering thoughts and kept her eyes on the candles.

Cassiopeia walked behind her and the taller woman’s hands came to rest on her shoulders.

“This is what we’ve been working toward for weeks. I think it’s time we test if you harnessed the power of the Resurrection Stone. The souls should answer to you for despite being very much alive; you’re part of their world as well.”

“Very well said,” Death’s voice sent shivers dancing down her back and nearly undid her tightly sealed lips. “Being a Peverell isn’t solely about guarding the Deathly Hallows. It exceeds this menial task. You, Peverells, had been chosen since Magic was bequeathed to humans.”

Hespera held her breath, waiting for more.

“You’ve been elected for Necromancy and burdened with the assignment of linking the two realms together. When a Wiccan dies, his magic still roams free and only those gifted can find it. A Wiccan’s life experience is not something to be overlooked. You can learn many a thing from those who passed The Gate of No Return. Only, humans are greedy by nature and few can use the gift with no personal gain in mind. Few can treat souls with respect and accept their misdeeds and flaws without judging. You Peverells, in addition to a select few, were gifted this talent and with your Blood-Sister by your side, you can partake in a new journey that exceeds your wildest dreams. Lose yourself to this lush, arresting world and embrace your ancestors’ legacy fully.” Death finished solemnly and for the first time, she didn’t feel the need to chide or curse him.

His words frighteningly appealed to her.

She was aware of the change in her core since she landed in Orion’s room a few months ago, since she discerned the intricacies of the extremely dark, unforgiving wards of Grimmauld Place, since she celebrated Winter Solstice like a dutiful follower of the Olde Ways and renowned her pledge to Mother Magic.

“And it’s time you take the next step,” Cassiopeia sounded determined. 

Hespera nodded and took the dagger. She dug it into her thumb and smeared the drop of blood over the Resurrection Stone.

“Take your pick,” she said, waiting for a seemingly excited Cassiopeia.

“Well, I can’t deny that the choice is exceedingly difficult, but…. I heard that my great-aunt was the first Necromancer recorded in recent Black history. I’d be thrilled to learn some original Black curses from her,” Cassiopeia replied flippantly but she couldn’t fool Hespera anymore.

She heard the anticipation in her voice.

Cassiopeia closed her eyes and started chanting in The Forgotten Language.

Her face was solemn and Hespera couldn’t take her gaze away as a translucent mist appeared and took the shape of a woman.

Cassiopeia stopped and opened glowing silver eyes. 

Both women waited as the ghostly form of Elladora Adhara Black became solid and her eyes scrutinized them.

“You summoned me,” she pointed out coolly.

Cassiopeia lowered her eyes in respect and said. “Aunt Elladora, you can’t imagine how long I’ve waited to have a private talk with you.”

Elladora’s eyes were critically intent upon them, her look enigmatic.

“I don’t see why I should be averse to seeing the niece that inherited my gift and the Fabled Mistress of Death. I happen to have tons of free time, make sure to ask whatever you seek.”

Cassiopeia’s grin was quite feral. “While you’re in this giving mood, what can you tell us about Horcruxes?”

“I shall…see,” Elladora asserted firmly, lifting her eyes to look at Hespera’s faded scar. ‘’I met many old souls in my time and as a Maiden of Death, I encountered many more in the Underworld. I will educate you properly,” she finished, looking at Hespera with a steady gaze.

Something in her keen eyes made her stiffen. There was unmistakable knowledge that she could not define.

A shiver feathered over her skin like an east wind as Elladora floated closer, which was oddly disconcerting—and should be her intention.

Hespera waited with a bated breath, ignoring the suddenly chilling room.

“You seek to catch Him before it’s too late, don’t you? You want to spare Wizarding Britain bloodshed,” Elladora spoke with an air of confidence that exceeded that of Lycoris and Cassiopeia—which should have been impossible.

Hespera thought of the beautiful House that greeted her as a family member, of the lovely Black witches and wizards that hid behind layers over layers of haughtiness and cynicism and of the enchanting Orion Black she started to love sincerely and nodded.

“I want to protect my family and to do that, I have to be ready.”

Elladora smiled and tilted her head in a very ghostly manner. "Very well, then."

Orion looked down into his cup, aware that if he raised his eyes, he couldn’t ignore the pressing need to glare at his uncle any longer.

Cygnus remained stoic, barely reacting to the heated argument that erupted between their fathers.

Orion wondered sometimes what path Cygnus would follow now that Hespera was a part of their world.

He also wondered how would Abraxas and Corvus’ sons turn out to be.

He didn’t like their offspring from Hespera’s memories, more so when they took part in ruining House Black.

“I can’t believe how low our family is sinking, Arcturus. Are we conspiring with creatures and beasts now? Our forebears must be rolling in their graves.” Pollux shook his head.

It seemed that he didn’t lose hope yet. He futilely wished to steer his father according to his agenda. 

Orion wanted to snort. His uncle needed to get over the ordeal of his sad childhood. Maybe then, he would be spared the humiliation of being told off by his father and grandfather over and over again.

He never learned the art of filtering his words properly for some things were better left unsaid, scathing things like accusing his father of taking a decision that would hurt the family.

Wearily, he watched as Arcturus’ eyes darkened until they rivalled the fiercest storm.

Sweet Salazar, he thought, these were the same eyes that crushed potential threats as if they were mere bugs.

“Are you perchance accusing me of being shortsighted and making decisions on a whim, Pollux?” Arcturus’ voice was soft, so soft which was his scariest.

“I don’t understand what came over you, Arcturus. You changed so much and I can barely recognize the man trusted with protecting our family. I wonder if it's Lady Peverell’s doing, or—“

“Careful, Pollux,” Arcturus hissed. “You’re not only disrespecting your Lord but foolishly bringing my future daughter-in-law into this. I won’t allow it.”

‘’I had it with this mysterious girl,” Pollux’ eyes narrowed. “It’s clear that she wasn’t properly educated in our ways. She’s too sentimental and barely knows wrong from right.”

Arcturus leaned on his chair lazily and asked caustically. “So, I assume you believe that Hespera is not worthy to become the next Lady Black?”

Pollux pursued his lips and gave a single nod. “She’s not Lady Black material.”

Orion’s head whipped so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get hurt and glared at the outrageously shameless Pollux.

“Hespera is worthy enough. The Peverell magic chose her and you know the myths surrounding that family,’’ he stressed out.

“She’s the last Peverell,” Pollux huffed. “The family magic had to pick her up if it didn’t want to become instinct. A desperate choice I presume.”

“Pollux, now you’re acting like a fool,” Arcturus warned. “I had it with your endless critics. Just say what you have and let’s be done here.”

“Retrieve your last proposal and cut all ties with the Greyback pack. There’s a sound reason why they were forbidden from interacting with us. An alliance with the beasts will bring nothing but trouble.”

Cygnus seemed startled hearing the bold demand.

Orion looked at his father and understanding his intent, leaned against the back of his chair and waited.

It seemed that his uncle was getting more confident which could only mean one thing: he was in league with powerful opposing Houses.

A rush of frigid air swirled around them as Arcturus stood slowly.

Everyone followed suit seeming surprised by the sudden action.

“Pollux,” his father’s eyes were harder than two polished diamonds and everyone in the room understood what it meant to be Lord Black. “Don’t think that I’m unaware of what you’ve been plotting. You seem adamant to discriminate against creatures and beasts. What about vampires? I heard that Rookwood is in talks with Coven Master Sanguini. It would seem that a mutual friend of yours is working hard to secure an alliance.”

Pollux gulped and paled.

“If there’s any sign that you’re betraying our family, you’ll pay for it dearly,” Arcturus told his cousin, his voice no more than a whisper. “So, be careful cousin mine and try to take your own advice. You’re most fortunate to be alive.” He added.

“Father,” Cygnus hurried to say.

“Take your leave Pollux,” Arcturus’ voice softened. He even tried to rein in his cold anger, but it was a puny effort at best. “For once, think of your family and be a true Black.”

“Very well,” Pollux murmured and from the tension on his shoulders, Orion knew that the argument was not over.

The fireplace flared with angry green flames as the two men left and Orion sighed.

“He’ll cause more trouble, won’t he?” he asked.

“Of course he will,” Arcturus clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. “He won’t forget the humiliation of refusing his daughter. Pollux chose his path and family or not, I’m ready to give up on him.” Orion could feel his father’s composure slip and knew that the betrayal hurt him more than he was letting on.

“Will he side with the Pureblood Movement brewing in the shadows our spies reported?”

He tried not to show how appalled he was by his father’s confession. He knew that Pollux was capable of such treachery, he could understand his motive yet his creature still wanted to claw at his eyes and shred him to pieces.

The fool had caused his daughters’ doom, the fall of House Black and the death of many a good witch and wizard.

Now, he was a threat to his Hespera as well which he couldn’t accept.

“How are you going to deal with him?” Orion’s voice sounded of disgust as he prompted his father to reveal his intentions.

“Father was notified,” Arcturus said, his voice harsh. “Pollux is being watched as we speak. We won’t act unless he becomes an immediate threat. For now, let’s wait and see.”

His father’s tone left no room for argument and begrudgingly, he nodded.

Arcturus Sirius Black was not someone who acted impulsively. He was a predator that enjoyed the chase more than catching his prey because he would catch it no matter what.

“Take care of Hespera and make sure that she’s safe at all times. If what I fear is upon us, she will be targeted. Your fiancée declared her allegiance publicly and all those who sided with her will be targeted.”

“What about Dumbledore and his ilk?” Orion sneered.

“Oh, Dumbledore,” Arcturus’ lips twisted into an ostentatiously feral grin. “He’s cornered now. He brazenly showed his animosity toward our Faction and I don’t believe that the Light's beacon will support this emerging movement. I wonder how that old goat will act.”

“He’ll manage somehow,” Orion murmured.

“Maybe. But if he wants to fight this extreme movement, he’ll need allies, or shall I say, minions? Powerful, proficient allies that can defend Magical Britain,” Arcturus tilted his head, feigning puzzlement.

Orion snorted. “Do you think he’ll try to get in contact with us?”

“Who knows? No mortal can understand how that devious mind of his works. I wonder why he wasn’t sorted in Slytherin.”

“Because no worthy Slytherin is stupid enough to get caught so easily. We’ve known for years that he’s not invincible. He’s but a very talented manipulator,” Orion provided.

Arcturus chuckled. “But not every Slytherin is a Black.”

--

Orion’s head jerked up as he felt Hespera’s aura.

He retired to his room hours ago intending to make some progress with his new spell.

Alphard and Regulus were busy with their experiment and he was certain that it would take some time for the two potioneers to leave the lab.

Alpha Greyback kept his promise and sent two pack members to help with the research and make sure that everything went smoothly.

He glanced down at the book he was so diligently going through with a raised brow and wondered if it was wise to let Hespera know of the extremely Dark curses he enjoyed studying.

He knew of her past experience with the Unforgivables and how much the memories still hurt.

Would The Entrail-Expelling Curse invited by Urquhart Rackharrow four centuries ago bother her?

The choice was taken from his hands when she knocked softly.

“Come in,” he said.

“I hope that you’re not busy,” she smiled.

“No, I was just studying some old curses that might help with my Spell Crafting,” he offered.

A knot of dread settled in his stomach when she got closer, her eyes riveted to the thick tome.

“I plan to create some very offensive curses. The best to protect my family,” Orion said in answer to her wordless question.

She looked astonished and he didn’t know what to make of such a reaction.

“Spell Crafting?” Hespera whispered.

Eyes twinkling with amusement, Orion offered. “Yes. It’s an obscure branch of magic that has always fascinated me.”

Hespera’s iridescent gaze swerved to his satisfied face. “I believe Fleur Delacour’s mother was one as well. It demands a tremendous amount of talent to work out the intricacies surrounding the pairing of core magic with wand movements.”

Hespera’s finger touched the surface of his desk and he smiled.

“So, how did it go with Cassiopeia today? I hope everything went well.”

“It was brilliant. I had my first meeting with a soul. Guess who it was?”

Her voice was light and excited that he couldn’t help but grin wider.

In times like these, he was reminded that she was still a young witch. 

A very young witch that was denied the chance to experience the small, beautiful things in life.

“If I have to pick up a name—and considering what I know of Cassiopeia—I’d say it’s another Necromancer. That woman is utterly obsessed,” he smirked.

Hespera snorted and shook her head. “You’re very sly, Heir Black.”

“That, I am,” he admitted shamelessly.

“Did Pollux and Cygnus visit?” 

Orion looked down knowing that he had to tell her.

Taking a deep breath, he reported every detail watching as her eyes hardened and her smile dimmed with his words.

“He’s helping with Riddle’s movement. I can’t say that I’m surprised,” she half-whispered, her mouth tightening with anger.

Orion stood and took her hands in a light grip. He noticed that her rings warmed by the simple touch.

‘’We will see that they fail,” he promised with an amount of conviction he was unaware he possessed.

Hespera’s hold tightened and the firm pressure of her slender fingers displayed her determination.

“We will,” she said.

At that moment, Orion felt a surge of admiration for his fiancée.

No matter what disasters came her way, she was willing to meet all the challenges. Of all the witches he had met, she had shown the toughest mettle and yet, she had to be stronger and even more obstinate if she was to realize her dreams.

“Can you create Dark curses that surpass the one you were studying?” she asked hoarsely.

“You—‘’ he murmured.

She raised her head and met his gaze head-on.

The challenge he discerned there made his beast roar with anticipation.

“I’m not Hespera Potter, the Light’s puppet anymore, Orion. I am Darkness and Death.”

It suddenly dawned on him that he should’ve trusted his instincts. He grinned and his diamond-bright eyes shone with possessiveness.

Eager tension built between them, a charge as strong as lightning. 

He doubted she was aware of that fact and had she not looked so kissable, he might have mentioned it just to see her reaction.

But he wasn’t in the mood for words.

His hands came to her waist, preventing her retreat. He exerted just enough force to bring her nearer until their faces were so close that their noses were nearly touching. His breath caressed her mouth as he whispered huskily. “You’re my perfect match. Thank you for taking Death’s hand and coming here.”

Her eyes were as bright as looking glass as she looked at him and he couldn’t resist her charm anymore.

His mother, aunt and sister better not interrupt their moment again.

He leaned down and his mouth rubbed against her in a soft, undemanding kiss. When she melted and clutched his robes tighter, he possessed her mouth with small, persistent kisses. His fingers came to her jaw, tilting her chin and his thumb coaxed her lower lip apart from the upper. 

The instant he gained an opening, he sealed his mouth over hers. 

He tasted her for real, a subtle and alluring essence that affected him like some exotic Elven Wine.

His tongue pushed inside her, exploring and caressing and sliding deeper as she offered no resistance.

He brushed a half-open kiss against her lips, and then another, her soft exhalations filling his mouth.

Finally, the feather-like kisses strayed across her satiny cheek to the hollow of her ear and when she gasped, he couldn’t keep the words that wanted to leave his chest anymore.

“I love you, Hespera. I love you so much,” he confessed.

She writhed in response and her heart beat frenetically against his. Her hands shook as they framed his face and he heard her before she opened her mouth.

“I love you too, Orion. I’m glad it’s you because no one else makes sense.”

Orion inhaled deeply and hugged her with all his might.

He found her when he least expected it, so she was his to keep and cherish.

Chapter Text

Alphard’s face was dazzling with happiness, the sunlight dancing over his surprisingly dishevelled hair as he explained the progress they made.

“I can’t believe it took us this long to consider this solution,” he said. “It was glaring at us all this time and I confess that I feel ashamed for not thinking about the werewolves’ suffering,” he dropped his head down and sighed.

“Don’t blame yourself, son,” Regulus patted his shoulder. “It’s a miracle that you turned out to be such a good son and brilliant Apprentice considering who your father is,’’ he smirked and Alphard skewered him with a sidelong glance.

Duncan, the young Omega who volunteered to help with the research, intervened. “You’re better than most Wizards, Alphard. I’ve never thought that I’d compliment a wizard but you’re different,” he smirked, his sky-blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

Hespera giggled as Alphard huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why, thank you oh mighty werewolf,” he said sarcastically.

Orion cleared his throat and tapped his fingers over the desk. “How long do you think it will take for the potion to be ready?”

Hespera sighed and intertwined her fingers with her fiancée's under the desk.

It saddened her that he was saddled with a hefty responsibility at such a young age but she understood that Orion, as Heir Black, did not possess the privilege to act carefree and enjoy life like other young wizards did.

He squeezed her fingers and magic danced over their touching flesh, teasing her senses and renewing his pledge to her.

Since the night he confessed his love, things changed between them. She sensed the affection centred solely on her, the visceral connection between them and how magic rippled through the air whenever they were in close vicinity.

She realized that she had been so parched, so dry and needy for someone to accept her with all her good qualities and vices, to see her, Hespera, with all her scars and grip her hand steadily no matter what.

She never expected to collide with someone like Orion but she was thankful that she took Death’s second option and started over.

Who would have thought that she would be sitting in Regulus Black’s lab discussing Wolfsbane and werewolves’ rights and making sure that the Wizarding World became a better place for everyone concerned?

“If my calculations are right, which is always the case, the potion will be ready in a month,” Regulus regarded them with steady grey eyes. “But you don’t really believe that this is the last of our troubles, right?”

Hespera’s brows knitted together and she looked at Orion questioningly.

He retained his rigid posture and looked and Duncan. “After the potion is at your disposal, the noose will get tighter around your necks. You’ll be scrutinized and watched at all times. Making a mistake is not an option.”

Duncan nodded solemnly and ran a hand through his wavy blond hair. “I know. This potion is a double-edged sword.”

Hespera’s eyes widened when understanding washed over her.

Duncan gave her a sad smile. “But we’re ready. Alpha Greyback knows that this is not the end of the war. However, he’s confident we will win. Failure is not an option if we want to secure the future of our pups.”

Hespera’s heart lurched with pain as Duncan’s words took her to a past she could not get over.

She remembered Remus’ struggles despite his brilliance, his suffering and how unconfident and guilt-ridden he was.

“We’ll make sure that werewolves received the respect they deserve,” she said with an iron-laced voice. “It’s not your fault that the moon picked you up as her children.”

Orion’s small smile spoke volumes of what he thought about her resignation. However, it was Duncan’s stiff nod that made her shiver.

“I wish there were more Wixen blessed with your good heart, Hespera Peverell. I don’t know what coincidence led you our way and prompted this crazy project, but I’m forever thankful to Mother Magic for granting us an ally like you.”

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Alphard snickered and winked at Orion. “My cousin is lucky to have her.”

Orion glared at his cousin but Alphard didn’t seem bothered at all. Hespera caressed his hand and nodded.

She was the lucky one to have someone like Orion in her life.

--

Hespera folded the letter sent by the goblins and handed it over to Orion.

His eyes were cool and diamond-bright revealing nothing as he skimmed over it and yet she sensed that he was aware of the queer tension building inside her, a charge as strong as lightning.

A week ago, she sent a request to the Peverell newly-appointed goblin, Silverclaw, to prepare a report detailing the state of her properties, mainly the Peverell Manor in Wiltshire.

The Manor was in good shape and required only slight renovations to become fit to live in.

She knew that she didn’t need it anymore. 12 Grimmauld Place was her home, has always been her home, but it would be remiss of her to disregard the numerous possibilities her ancestors' stronghold offered.

Many less-fortunate Wixen weren’t blessed with her wealth and power and she had every intention of using whatever she possessed to help others and make their lives better.

When she voiced her plans, Orion didn’t seem startled by the casualness with which the suggestion had been delivered.

It cemented the conviction that he understood her on a skin-deep level, something she never considered she could have with another being.

Biting her lip, she looked at Orion and said. “Do you think I can turn it into an orphanage with an adjoining school to introduce abandoned magical children to our world?”

Orion gave her an amused nod, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

She retained her ladylike posture, the one Melania spent months teaching her, but inside she wilted with relief and prayed silently in gratitude.

She understood how revolutionary her ideas were and how unready Magical Britain was for them but giving up was not an option she would ever consider.

She had every intention of turning this world upside down and steering it toward a different path; a path that ensured everyone’s survival.

Orion took a sit next to her and caught her hand tenderly. “Our path won’t be easy, Hespera. But I’m ready to wage wars to make you happy, to make your dreams a reality.”

She shook her head in exasperation and he grinned. “You’re too good for me, too good for this world.”

“I’m not that great,” she mumbled, her face taking a mortified cast.

She had always hated attention and found it hard to accept praise. Orion seemed to understand the thoughts plaguing her mind though.

He clasped her face between his large hands, stilling her movement and stealing her attention.

Staring into his bold eyes, which were as hard as a frozen pond, she wondered how others couldn’t see the softness and care hiding behind his cool exterior.

She felt her unease begin to drain away and  had no choice but to believe him.

“You’re great and it seems we have another great law to pass for the next Wizengamot session,” Orion smirked.

She groaned and dropped her head over his shoulder. “We’ll cause another outrage, won’t we?” she sighed.

He played with her long braid and chuckled. “Yes, we will. But isn’t that what we excel at? At this rate, I believe we’ll give Dumbledore an early demise.”

Hespera punched his chest and he feigned a gasp. “I don’t want to kill him. I just want him to see the error in his ways.”

Orion huffed. “Don’t aim too high, Hespera. I doubt Dumbledore will ever change.”

“We’d better prepare some good arguments for the upcoming debate then,” she muttered. “I feel that this battle won’t be an easy one.”

Orion nodded.

Orion groaned while others continued their raucous conversation.

Their latest proposition caused the predicted outrage and he sensed a headache coming his way.

He wondered how he had never considered how narrow-minded and witless Magical Britain’s elite were before meeting Hespera.

“It feels like you’re building an army of faithful minions, Lady Peverell. How can we trust the kind of teaching you’ll entrench in the little ones' minds? They’re too gullible and easy to control,” Lord Diggory sneered.

“Are you perchance accusing me of malevolence, Lord Diggory?” Hespera’s back straightened and an ominous silence followed her veiled threat.

“I’m merely stating facts, Lady Peverell,” her name sounded like a curse coming from his mouth and Orion’s eyes narrowed on the blithering menace.

He didn’t appreciate the disrespect he was showing his fiancée but he was certain that Hespera didn’t need his help to take care of him.

“I thought as a Light-oriented wizard, like you boast incessantly, it would be your priority to see to the less unfortunate ones' well being. Isn’t it our responsibility and privilege to provide for them?” Hespera tilted her head innocently and Arcturus snorted.

“She got him with this one sentence. Let’s see how he escapes from this well-set trap.”

Lord Diggory’s face turned an ugly, outraged puce colour. “I’m well aware of my role as a member of the Wizengamot. But —‘’

‘’But you’re merely whining like an overindulged babe for the sake of it,” Fleamont Potter snickered. “Maybe you’re opposing for the sole reason that this project is proposed by my dear cousin?”

“How dare you accuse me of harbouring such—“

“Now, now. Please try to treat each other with due respect,” Caldwell Diggory was interrupted again when Dumbledore cleared his throat and made his presence known. 

“I apologize, Mr Dumbledore,” Caldwell bowed his head like the dutiful follower he was.

“I find the whole debate meaningless. I wonder why Lady Peverell is set on changing our society as we know it. It raises many questions, mainly what Lord Diggory mentioned. First werewolves and then orphans. It feels like she’s gathering allies and making the unfortunate indebted to her,” Lord Nott stood and glared at Hespera.

“I, on the other hand, find Lady Peverell’s views refreshing. Don’t you think that this body suffered a lengthy stagnation? Isn’t it time we become more inventive? Look at other countries, France for instance, many creatures gained their rights years ago. Veela and werewolves are treated equally there and magical orphanages have been set a decade ago,” Abraxas drawled nonchalantly but his little monologue stole everyone’s attention.

“Am I hearing some nostalgia to your roots, Lord Malfoy?” Lord Crabbe mocked.

“And am I hearing some unnecessary blabbering? I was merely stating facts and sharing the results of my research, something you seem to fail at Lord Crabbe. Perhaps you’d make your next intervention more…helpful.’’

Crabbe’s face darkened with rage but Abraxas didn’t seem bothered at all.

“You should watch your back more carefully,” Orion sighed.

“Why, are you worried about my welfare?” Abraxas lifted a fine eyebrow.

“As if I would,” Orion huffed. 

“Very well,” Minster Tuft sounded exasperated. “We have to settle on a decision, we can’t keep at this anymore. I don’t know about you, but I must go back home.”

Arcturus chuckled.

“I admit that Lady Peverell's proposition is unexpected but like all her previous ones, I can’t deny that it made me think how we didn’t think about this before.” 

Wilhemina Tuft’s eyes were piercing as she considered Hespera.

The latter didn’t seem bothered, she stood her ground and returned her gaze with steely green eyes. “Thank you, Minister.”

“I agree with the Minister,” Hector Fawley interjected. ‘’For someone so young, Lady Peverell’s ideas never cease to amaze me. I feel ashamed that I’ve never considered the war’s victims or the Muggleborns who were shunned by their families when their magic started showing itself. This proposition raises many questions, but more importantly, it makes me aware of our shortcomings. I don’t know about you, but I applaud Lady Peverell for her insurgent ideas. This project needs more consideration and a throughout studying by professionals. We have to consider all aspects, legal and political. We’ll need qualified staff be it teachers or mind healers to take care of the children, not to mention lawyers and Oblivators to make sure that things go smoothly without a single hiccup,” Hector offered Hespera a rare smile and she nodded.

Orion caught her hand. He knew how much this project meant for her. As an orphan who grew up in a hostile environment, she was adamant she spared others her traumatic experience.

“I can understand and accept taking orphans in. Yet, wouldn’t it be heartless to deprive children of their parents? I’m sure that Muggleborns won’t appreciate being separated from their parents at a such tender age,” Dumbledore supplied, his twinkling eyes inciting the Minister to consider his unwanted intervention.

“Child abuse is unacceptable, Mr Dumbledore, in any form or shape. Once an abuser, always an abuser. If a parent blames his child for something that isn’t his fault, if he doesn’t accept him just the way he is, if he doesn’t support him and shields him, he’s not fit to be called a parent.”

Eyes rounded with surprise when Hespera’s voice dropped to a chilling level.

There was no illusion that her words were directed at Dumbledore on a personal level, that there was a hidden history between them.

Many Lords and Ladies swivelled their heads between the two facing opponents. 

“Lady Peverell…” Dumbledore seemed startled by the hostility aimed at him.

“Children are our future. Like little flowers, they need the appropriate care to blossom. If we don’t protect them, if we don’t give the bud a chance to sprout its first petal, we’re not fit to be called humans, let alone the rulers of this society,’' Hespera broke off abruptly.

After a slow breath, she spoke calmly, her hard eyes skewering Dumbledore mercilessly. “And I believe you know how dangerous it is to ignore abused children. They can turn out to be your worst nightmare.’’

Dumbledore stilled, his eyes searching and probing but Hespera didn’t give him the chance to read her face.

She gave Lord Fawley a radiant smile and started elaborating on her plan.

Orion knew that the poor man was sold when his eyes glazed over. The Minister wasn’t faring any better and by the enraged faces glaring at his Hespera, Orion was certain it wouldn’t take long for Hespera’s new proposition to see the light of day.

Chapter Text

Hespera cut her palm and smeared a drop of blood over the Peverell emblem at the centre of the sturdy Iron Gate.

The wash of magic that greeted her was nothing less than a lodestone, exerting such a pull on her core that she felt her entire body tingle from its force.

“Careful!” Melania put a studying hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she choked out, straining backwards due to the strong wind caused by the opening of the gates.

She apparated with Melania, Cassiopeia, Lucretia and Orion to Amsbury-Wiltshire to have a look at the Peverell Manor before the goblins started working on it.

While everyone thought that the Peverells originated from Godric’s Hollow, it wasn’t accurate. They inhabited the oldest part of Magical Britain for centuries until they were reduced to the last Heiress: Lady Iolanthe Peverell.

When Ignotus’ granddaughter accepted Heir Hardwin Potter’s proposal—the only son of Lord Linfred de Stinchcombe, she chose to leave the colossal Manor filled with painful memories and loss and reside in the Peverell Cottage in Godric’s Hollow, where the remaining Potters lived.

Like her, Lady Iolanthe yearned to have a big family and the besotted Hardwin, eager to please her, agreed.

The Peverell Manor had been deserted ever since, protected by the most vicious wards known to wizardkind, its place unknown but to the rightful Heir or Heiress.

“The threshold represents the link between a Magical House and its Master. You were not allowed to come in until you offered your blood—the price— and now, The Manor knows that you intend to protect it. Peverell Manor invites you inside, Hespera,” Melania patted her shoulder gently and ushered her to step inside.

“Magical Houses are bothersome. They possess a mind of their own,” Cassiopeia huffed and shook her head. “And I’m certain that this one is more tricky than most.”

“We’ll have to make sure it’s safe for children’s use. We can’t have any surprises,” Hespera said, her mind muddled by the feeling of the magic surrounding her.

Fighting for composure and logical thought was like running through water. She couldn’t find traction amid the shifting angles of emotion. To her surprise, tears welled inside her eyes.

The Manor felt like home, it was her home.

“Easy, Mistress,” Death whispered gently. “It is your home. Ignotus is excited because his daughter managed to unlock the seal and revive the Peverell Sanctum Sanctorum after all this time.”

“The Peverell Sanctum Sanctorum?” Hespera brushed a tear away stealthily.

“Yes. Despite their tremendous magical power and uncanny talent, the Peverell Brothers were scholars at heart. This Manor was a haven for every young wizard and witch who wanted to learn and hone their skills. Your Ancestors guided many a young, aspiring Wix and contributed to the betterment of this land. I find it curious that you intend to do the same now that you are Lady Peverell,” Death explained.

Hespera’s heart jolted. It was surprising indeed but she didn’t regret her decision. She grew up with nothing, disregarded and trampled by those who were supposed to protect her.

She was familiar with the biting unfairness of being destitute. She wasn’t that skinny, starved little girl anymore but the memories were a crucial part of her being and she was not ready to part with them yet, maybe never.

The Dursleys did not possess any right to her thoughts anymore but what she experienced was the motivation she needed to work harder and spare other unlucky children her plight.

“Are you alright?” Always attuned to her mood swings, Orion asked softly. His diamond-bright eyes spoke volumes of his understanding and she loved him more for accepting her with all her great achievements and skin-deep insecurities.

“I’m absolutely fine. I can’t wait to have the goblins start working on the Manor,” she smiled cheerfully.

“Have you decided on a name?” Lucretia asked, her eyes glued to the gardens surrounding the main building.

Lucretia inherited Melania’s green thumb. She enjoyed spending time in Grimmauld place’s gardens, taking care of the rare plants Regulus brought from his wide and far travels.

Hespera mulled over the question. She wanted something special, something that paid reference to the family that sacrificed so much to keep the balance between the two Realms.

Excitement washed over her, warming her.

As long as Magical kids were free and unhurt, there would be still hope.

Cassiopeia smiled while they talked, her eyes sparkling as she ran them over the entrance.

There was so much mischief in them that chills skittered down Hespera’s back.

“We’ll leave the name choice to Hespera. As a general rule, I don’t care much about others. But…I see merit in punishing those who abused little children. Magic is a gift that shall be venerated at all times. How dare they lay a hand on a blessed kid of Mother Magic?”

Melania’s smile was strained. “And I’m sure that the Aurors will take care of the wrongdoers.”

Cassiopeia lifted her chin and met Melania’s censoring gaze unflinching. “We can always help. I offer my services willingly. It doesn’t hurt that it will help me practice some of my more…offensive spells.”

Cassiopeia’s intent was obvious and unsurprising, it screamed a warning that made Hespera swallow thickly.

She glanced up at Orion and was astonished to see how untroubled he appeared.

Orion grew up in a loving home, encouraged from a young age to flourish and excel.

As if reading her thoughts, his mouth curved in a slight smile. “I’m a Black.”

Hespera shook her head and chuckled.

They took a tour of the colossal Manor while Orion and Cassiopeia headed toward the library to find out if the old manuscripts were safe.

The preponderance of the Heirlooms was kept in the main vault. Nevertheless, the Manor didn’t feel deserted. It had a warm feeling to it despite the callous magic guarding it.

“We’ll need plenty of innovations before it becomes fit to house children,” Melania mused. “To be honest, I’ve never seen a Magical House of this grandeur.”

“You’re right, Mother,” Lucretia whistled, “Even Malfoy Manor looks tiny compared to it.”

Melania made an exasperated sound as she ambled toward the third floor. “Lord Malfoy won’t be thrilled if he hears that his Ancestral House was called tiny.”

“It’s the truth, though,” Lucretia grinned.

“Abraxas is a good ally, Lucretia,” Hespera said as she walked over to the elaborate set of paintings depicting the different battles her Ancestors took part in.

She could feel the pride, the unrelenting dignity. Though some might consider the Peverells a myth, a children’s tale, the stories told by the paintings made them in a way, human.

“It’s curious how this stronghold remained hidden for centuries. With all the spells we know, The Peverells’ supremacy never fails to astonish me,’’ Melania exclaimed as she examined an old tapestry portraying a young Necromancer in the midst of drawing Ancient Runes.

“I still have so much to learn,” Hespera whispered, her mind filled with so many questions.

“Learning is a process that every Peverell has to go through. Fools are those who claim to know everything. Voicing your inadequacy is the first step in the journey, it attests to your strong will and observance,” Death said, wandering as he pleased in her mind.

Hespera made a determined effort to hide her feelings. “I was denied all knowledge prior to my death. I’m willing to learn whatever I need to become a worthy Lady Peverell.”

“And you will. Never doubt that, Hespera,” Death promised and somehow, she believed him.

--

The streets of Diagon Alley were as animated as ever as Hespera trudged through the crowds, enjoying the simple delights her new life offered.

Lucretia volunteered to keep her company as she negotiated the renovations they settled on with the goblins.

With an uncanny mind, not unlike that of all House Black women, her future sister-in-law wasn’t one to shy away when faced with the goblins' viciousness.

“They’re in a way…funny,” Lucretia huffed as she eyed the display of cauldrons to her left.

“Few would describe them that way, Lucretia,” Hespera lifted a mocking eyebrow.

“They’d do anything for the hefty sum you agreed to part with,” she stressed out.

Hespera shrugged. She was enjoying the peaceful companionship and the strong arm liked with hers. Money was but a trivial thing.

She spent the last week suffering from Wizardkind’s inadequacy and trying to convince blabbering fools that it wasn’t right to turn a blind eye to abuse.

Her battle was far from over, but she wasn’t giving up, ever.

She sensed the moment Lucretia stiffened and lifted her eyes catching a glimpse of the redhead approaching them.

She was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t notice him before. She stared at him for a moment and her heart hammered in her chest.

His face was in a way, too familiar.

The same red hair, the freckles, the mischievous blue eyes.

The wizard was a more refined copy of Charlie Weasley.

“Lucretia..” she released her companion’s arm and turned her questioning eyes to her.

“He….It’s Lord Ignatius Prewett.” The words were spoken lightly, but the warmth filling them was so telling.

“You mean…” Hespera’s head spun back to the tall wizard marching toward them with steady steps, taking long, forceful strides while his expensive cloak flowed out behind him.

His face was set. His eyes fixed on Lucretia like two blazing sapphires.

“Shhhh. Yes, Ignatius is a friend, my friend.” Lucretia flicked a silver gaze toward him.

“Really?’’ Hespera raised a curious brow, her lips twitching with mirth as she studied Lucretia’s mottled face. ‘’I was made to believe you fancied him.”

“You…” Lucretia hissed then plastered a radiant smile on her face when Ignatius reached them.

“Lady Peverell, Miss Black,” he bowed gracefully.

A strong feeling spread behind Hespera’s breastbone.

The wizard’s aura reminded her of the only family she considered her own during her first life.

“Lord Prewett,” she nodded.

“I didn’t get the chance to greet you properly. Minor Noble Houses like mine don’t interact much with Ancient houses like yours, Lady Peverell,” Ignatius said wistfully.

“Please, do call me Hespera. Any friend of Lucretia is a friend of mine as well.” 

Ignatius’ expression was unreadable as he eyed her.

“And there’s nothing minor about The Noble House of Prewett. You’ve been a significant part of the Wizengamot body for centuries,” she added.

“Thank you, Hespera. Few Royal Houses think the same,” Ignatius grinned. “I shouldn’t be surprised though. Your way of thinking is…different from what I observed.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hespera tilted her head.

“You’d better not offend my sister,” Lucretia narrowed her eyes playfully and Ignatius lifted his arms in fake surrender.

“I’d never dream of doing something so despicable. I’m a great supporter of Hespera’s projects. I can see merit in her revolutionary vision, plus…” Ignatius smirked and lowered his head as if he was imparting a grave secret.

“I enjoy watching the blithering idiots squirm whenever Hespera started a new proposition. They’ll have no mercy from me,” he chuckled.

Feeling more certain now that Ignatius Prewett was indeed a distant relative of Charlie and the twins, Hespera nodded.

“I’ll keep your words in mind and make sure to add to their distress,” she promised.

She noticed the way Lucretia was eyeing Ignatius furtively and cleared her throat. “I have a small matter to take care of, why don’t you escort Lucretia on her shopping trip?”

Lucretia gave her a sidelong glare but she waved it off and smiled radiantly.

Pleasure washed over Ignatius’ face, his freckles standing out to attention. “That would be my pleasure. Lucretia?”

Orion’s older sister touched his arm lightly, getting closer. Her reddened cheeks added a spark to her luminescent eyes.

Hespera let her eyes drift to their linked arms.

She was looking forward to the moment they confessed their feelings to each other. She was happy for the two for the light and carefree relationship they shared.

Thankfully, they weren’t burdened by her and Orion’s duties.

Satisfied with herself, she bid them farewell and decided to visit Regulus' apothecary before heading back home.

Looking around, she lost sense of time until she noticed she was stepping into the shadier part of Diagon alley.

“Mistress…” Death sounded mildly alerted.

“What…” she whispered in annoyance but couldn’t say more as the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention.

Her wand materialized in her hand and she understood that she was about to face real trouble.

“Show yourself,” she ordered, her eyes narrowing on the deserted street.

Suddenly, she leapt from her spot evading the red light aimed at her chest.

She waved her wand and a silver shield surrounded her.

“I said show yourself,” she said in a steel-laced voice.

Two masked wizards emerged from the corner, their wands flicked her way.

She noticed their bulk and the sick feeling of their magic.

Could they be….?

With the ease of a feather falling from a wing, she danced through the dark jinxes and spells they kept sending her way.

She returned fire with fire, always protected by her silver shield.

“It’s not fun to become the cornered prey is it?” she taunted mercilessly, hitting the wizard to her right with a Cutting Curse and making his arm dangle from his sleeve helplessly.

“You harlot!” the second wizard shouted and she willed her magic to take the shape of a fist squeezing around his neck.

He strained to take his second breath but she wasn’t in the mood for more games.

“Who sent you?” she balled her fist and he wheezed.

“I…He…”

“You will answer at once,” she stalked angrily toward him.

“He…he wants to test your powers. We heard tales about you…” he answered, taking greedy gulps of air.

“He?” Hespera’s eyes travelled over the wizard’s black cloak. The Concealing Charm hid his features and made them blurry.

“My Lord,” the second wizard smiled viciously, the menace in his voice as he answered unmistakable. “He’s back.”

Hespera’s heart beat a staccato rhythm behind her breast.

She knew of one wizard who could be called the Dark Lord.

Was Tom Riddle finally back?

Chapter Text

Disbelief warred with rage as Orion sensed Hespera’s distinctive Aura. 

Her magic was feral and darker than what he was used to and he knew that she wasn’t pleased.

It made no sense to him.

They parted ways earlier when she went with Lucretia for some errands while he answered Abraxas and Corvus’ invitation to discuss the next Wizengamot session over lunch.

He set his gaze toward the darkened sky, his eyes searching through the agglomerating clouds and cold dread ran down his back.

Thick strands of pure Dark magic blocked his view.

The source of disturbance came from the southern part of Diagon Alley and his creature growled, its fury simmering under his skin when understanding washed over him.

His heart beat a staccato rhythm and he would have lost his composure if not for his impenetrable Occlumency shields.

Was Hespera in danger? Was she ambushed? And what about Lucretia?

He held up his hand to quiet his two companions and offered a practised, forced smile. “My apologies, gentlemen. I believe I have to leave at once.”

Abraxas lifted a questioning pale brow while Corvus’ eyes narrowed.

He suspected the latter sensed the shift in the air for like them, the Lestranges were extremely sensitive to Dark magic.

Some tales reported they had a creature of their own that inhabited every Lestrange it deemed worthy.

Abraxas looked over his shoulder at the large windows of The Chimera’s—the elite restaurant they chose to have lunch in—and his gaze travelled over the crowded Alley.

“Are you certain you have to leave? We are not done yet,” ventured Abraxas, secretly sniffing for information and willing him to elaborate.

Abraxas was a valuable alley and a minacious foe.

Like every Malfoy, his greatest skill was gaining trust and friendship from his enemies while planning their demise.

He could be in and out of their lives within weeks and felt no shame or regret for the things he did or the people he played. 

He attributed that to his Veela roots and the charm oozing from every word that left his deceitful lips.

“I have to. We’ll arrange another meeting soon.”

Orion stood and Corvus’ brows snapped together as his eyes got darker. “I’ll be waiting for a word from you, Orion. In the meanwhile, I’ll check on Alphard. It had been a week since he stepped out of the lab.”

“Until then, enjoy your meal.”

Without further delay, Orion took measured steps toward the door.

Once he was out, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the engagement ring’s location. Like every Black Heirloom, it carried the Family Magic faithfully.

As Heir Black, he could pinpoint the exact location of the vessel holding part of his ancestors’ magic no matter how far it was.

Soundlessly, he apparated.

His expression hardened immediately and his diamond eyes smouldered with anger when his mind processed the scene in front of him.

He flicked his wound out and strode toward Hespera who was towering over two unconscious wizards.

“What happened here?” he said through clenched teeth, his steely eyes hard and merciless.

“It was an ambush. These cowards thought they could snare me too easily. And for what? A test? Pride? Utter foolishness?” Hespera’s eyes shone like burning flames attesting to her anger.

“Who?” His creature roared out the thundering demand, taking control of his senses.

The skin under his fingernails started hurting and he knew he was moments away from losing control while in public.

“Orion…” 

He snapped his eyes to Hespera and froze when he noticed the colour that drained from her face.

“Orion, what’s wrong …you…your voice—“ she breathed in a quiet tune.

He lowered his wand arm and shook his head, willing his creature to retreat.

He wasn’t the most auspicious moment to let Hespera on his most guarded secret. Not when he wasn’t even sure himself.

Plus, he didn’t fancy being caught mid-transformation. It would be disastrous. 

While most of the Pureblood families harboured Creature Blood and Spirits, none admitted to it openly.

They kept with the charade that their blood was purer than a Unicorn’s pelt.

House Black birthed many a Natural Animagus, mainly Dark mythical creatures.

It explained in a way some of their main traits.

Every Black worth his name was an opportunistic, astute hunter. They had their inner creature’s cunning, strength and stealth not to mention the legendary Black viciousness.

His gaze did not leave her as he sidestepped one of the neutralized perpetrators, closed the distance between them in two long strides and grazed his fingers lovingly over her cold cheek.

“I’m fine. But who did this? Did they confess before they succumbed to your curses?” 

Hespera rolled her eyes and sighed. “I haven't killed them but…I’m sure they won't be thrilled when they wake up. Bulstrode over there lost his wand arm while Burke, well—I had to torture him to make him spill. I’m not sure if his vocal cords are functional anymore. I petrified them after I got what I needed.” she closed her eyes and dropped her forehead over his shoulder.

“Who sent them?” his arms came over her and held her firmly. His chin rested gently against her hair and he sensed her emotions as his arms enfolded her.

“He’s back,” she hissed and her hands balled into fists against his chest. “It was his doing.”

Orion’s heart beat faster, harder and his lungs strained to take his next breath. Cold sweat beaded on his skin and with every bit of control he still possessed, he calmed his beast urging it to step back.

He felt a primal need to awaken the two bastards so he could torture them anew.

He didn’t want to think of what could have happened if Hespera wasn’t a stellar duelist.

She might appear as delicate as the silk of her robes but he knew of the warrior that lived underneath her dainty looks.

“We shouldn’t be surprised,” words flooded from his lips as he took a step back and held her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “It was but a matter of time.”

“I—“ Hespera was about to answer when her head swivelled toward the three pops that sounded all of a sudden.

Orion wanted to mutter a string of oaths when the Aurors joined them.

Lord Robert Bones, the Head of the DMLE, along with Auror Bletchley and Auror Selwyn scanned the scene.

“Lady Peverell, Heir Black,” Bones greeted succinctly.

Hespera let out a huff of frustration and her spine seemed to straighten. 

Her tone flattened with resignation. “Lord Bones,”

“What happened here? The Alley’s wards alerted us of a disturbance.” Bones scrutinized Hespera’s face.

“Lord Bones, I recognize Alvin Bulstrode, the second son of Lord Bulstrode and Elias Burke, the twice removed cousin of Lord Burke,” one of the Aurors pointed out.

“Oh joy, Bulstrode won’t let this slide. I know the bastard and have been suffering his whelp’s offences since he graduated,” Bones groaned.

“I was attacked, Lord Bones,” Hespera explained coolly. “I’ve never met these wizards but they tried to corner me.”

“Strange,” Bones scratched his goatee, his sharp brown eyes looking for signs of deception. “Why would they attack you without a sound reason?”

“That’s what we want to know, Lord Bones” Orion ventured, settling his hand over Hespera’s arm and telling her without words to play along.

Despite how hot his blood was boiling and how the urge to protect his fiancée was clawing at his insides, it was too soon to reveal Tom Riddle’s plans.

They didn’t have all the facts, plus no one would believe them and questions they weren’t ready to answer—Hespera wasn’t ready to answer—could arise and prompt unwanted attention.

“I agree with Orion. I want them questioned, Lord Bones. I don’t appreciate this unwarranted hostility. To my knowledge, I’ve never offended them or theirs,” Hespera slid her gaze to him and offered a rueful smile.

He placed a hand on her back soothingly and eyed Bones carefully.

“Very well. They will be questioned of course but so will you, Lady Peverell,” Bones announced sternly. “It hasn’t been long since Grindelwald’s tyranny was obliterated. I cannot accept any form of undue violence.”

“I will cooperate, Lord Bones. I want the perpetrator to be caught and punished accordingly,” Hespera’s chin went up.

“Merlin’s Beard…I’m not looking forward to Bulstrode’s visit. I’ll send a letter as soon as we settle this matter.” 

Bones nodded and ushered his Aurors to levitate the two incapacitated wizards.

They apparated at once and relief washed over Orion.

“Let’s go home,’’ he took a deep breath, hovering on the brink of meltdown.

Even though Hespera’s memories prepared him for this moment, he was in no way ready. He couldn’t risk her, not too soon.

Hespera tucked her arm in his and nodded. “It was a long day, let’s leave this filthy place.”

He slid his arm around her shoulder and they apparated away, seeking Grimmauld Place’s safety.

--

Lord Arcturus Black’s mouth flattened with displeasure as he heard Orion and Hepsera’s tale.

It seemed that one of House Black spies in the Ministry reported the arrest of the two wizards that attacked Lady Peverell.

The moment they finished their dinner, he asked them to join him in his office.

‘’This sounds like trouble. I was certain that our revolutionary propositions will be met with opposition but I wasn’t expecting raw violence and foolishness,” Arcturus sipped his drink slowly, his eyes going from his face to Hespera’s. “Are you sure there aren’t other motives?”

Orion sent Hespera a questioning glance and she nodded.

“They’re part of the Pureblood Supremacy Movement. They’re getting bolder, Father. I won’t be surprised if other families are attacked soon,” he sighed.

“But to attack Lady Peverell and the future Lady Black is outrageous. Everyone knows better than to estrange our family. We’re the worst enemy a fool can acquire,” Arcturus tossed his head back and looked at the ceiling. “It has been a while since Wizarding Britain witnessed our wrath. I was under the impression that no one wanted to awaken the Black Madness or fall to the curses of the Black Grimoire. Maybe I was a bit hasty; the dolts seem in desperate need of a reminder.”

“I don’t think it will come to that, Arcturus,” Hespera hurried to interject. “Let’s find out how the investigation goes first.”

Arcturus huffed and clasped his fingers above his desk. “I’m not the most patient of men and I don’t tolerate mediocrity, period. But you’re right, I’ll give the Ministry the benefit of the doubt mainly before Bones is an honourable wizard.”

“Let’s do that. Rest assured, Father that we’ll get to the bottom of this and make an example of the offender,” Orion promised.

“That, we will do, son. I can’t accept less than proper retribution.”

“Would like to retire? It was an eventful day and you need your rest,” he looked at Hespera noticing the dark circles under her eyes.

“I’d like that. I have to visit Uncle Regulus Tomorrow. I didn’t get to that with the unforeseen incident,” Hespera smiled sheepishly.

Orion’s chest went tight with worry.

He knew how much the attack affected her despite her strong front.

It should have brought painful memories from her past, memories of all the loss and agony she suffered at the hands of the monster that tore her family apart.

She might be reborn as Hespera Peverell, but in her core, she was the same Hespera Potter of the future, the same orphan that was denied all forms of affection and care.

He caught her hand and pulled her up then bowed to his father and left.

They took the stairs slowly but when they reached the third floor, she didn’t leave for her room but tightened her grasp on his arm and followed along.

“Hespera?” his voice was thick with qualm as he looked at her.

“I know,” she sighed tiredly. “Melania was all about rules and praxis. I’m aware we’re not allowed to get into your room at night. But…I—I need a moment with you. I need to—I need you. Can I come in?” her voice was small and tentative despite her bold request.

“I will give you whatever you need, Hespera. All you have to do is ask,” he assured her, barely concealing how much her trust affected him.

Her memories gave him a vague idea of how little she trusted after all the trials she went through.

It floored him how much this little witch had power over him.

If he weas to be honest, he would admit that he had been on edge since this afternoon and that he needed as well a few moments with her in the seclusion of his room to assure himself that she was safe, that she would remain here, by his side where she belonged.

He intertwined their fingers, and silently, they headed toward his room.

He had little interest in more talking.

Both knew what awaited them. Both understood that it wouldn’t do to worry. Tom Riddle wasn’t a simple foe; he was a storm making its way toward Wizarding Britain.

The Voldemort from Hespera’s past wasn’t there yet, wasn’t ready to show his face publicly.

He was still the coward that sent his minions to do his errands. 

The criminal that maintained a bit of his butchered soul.

They aimed to stop him before the Darkest Lord the wizarding World knew of took his first breath.

He took a seat and Hespera landed on his lap without invitation. It seemed she needed him as much as he needed her.

He buried his face in her neck, taking her smell into his lungs.

“I was worried earlier. Even though I know you can take care of yourself, I can’t help but worry,” he confessed unashamedly.

“You don’t need to worry. I don’t want to talk about what transpired this afternoon. All I want is you. Make me feel better.”

She slid a hand behind the back of his neck and brought her mouth to his.

The kiss affected him like a lightning strike.

He made an agitated sound in his throat, his entire body suddenly immobilized from a shock of pleasure.

Merlin, her lips, so lush and delicate were searching his with awkward determination. 

There was no way in the seven hells that he could pull away from her now. 

His muscles locked, and he fought to contain the flood of sensation that threatened to overwhelm him. 

He loved her with blind ferocity and would never lose her. 

His shaky grasp on his self-control lasted a few minutes before he groaned in defeat and clamped his arms around her.

Breathing harshly, he kissed her over and over, intoxicated by the softness of her lips. 

Hespera responded eagerly, pressing upward, while her fingers curled into the strands of his hair. 

The pleasure of holding her—of knowing she was safe in his arms—was too great and Orion couldn’t stop himself from increasing the pressure of his kisses until her lips parted innocently.

He slid his hand over the back of her head, his fingers conforming to the curve of her scalp, while he sank his tongue more deeply inside her mouth.

Hespera gasped and clutched his shoulders tightly, responding with a raw, unselfconscious sensuality that devastated him. 

He had never encountered this agonizing blend of emotion and physical hunger before… a searing temptation that he could never let go of.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he buried his face in the shining midnight veil of her hair. “What are you doing to me?” he groaned.

“I’m loving you, Orion. You’re my everything and I won’t lose you,” she kissed his temples, his jaw, his chin and his neck and he shuddered.

A barely there knock made him stiffen though.

In his haste to get into his room, and through the thick haze of his need, he forgot to set the wards around his room and pay more attention to potential visitors.

The door opened and Cassiopeia Black stepped in.

Hespera jumped from his lap, her face hot and her lips puffed.

Cassiopeia snorted, her brow lifting mockingly. “Although I seem to have caught the two of you in a compromising position, my moral pedestal is, alas, too short to give me a clear view of who’s doing what to whom. Therefore, I’ll spare you the sanctimonious finger-wagging. I merely want to alert Hespera that her absence has been noticed by sweet Melania. We don’t want to give the poor witch a shock as great as that of finding you together, unchaperoned, this late.”

Her smile was sweet, too sweet and Orion cursed inwardly.

She shrugged and headed back toward the door.

“See you tomorrow at six, dear sister. We’ll need darker curses soon,” she threw over her shoulder as she closed the door softly.

Chapter Text

Hespera’s iridescent green eyes met the two offenders and the stark rage reflected there augured the horror of what was to come if they didn’t heed her warning.

Alvin Blustrode flinched while Elias Burke’s jaw clenched.

He nodded anyway knowing that there was no way out.

Tom Riddle wouldn’t accept failure and Lady Peverell wasn’t the forgiving type.

Their fate was sealed the moment they accepted the mission and failed to neutralize her.

“We should leave, Lord Bones will be here anytime now,” Orion urged her gently.

She nodded and with a feral grin twirled the Elder Wand between her fingers, making the two wizards take a step back.

Their little cell at the DMLE didn't offer much space, though.

Orion took her arm and by the glint in his eyes, she knew that he was enjoying their misfortune way too much.

“I’ll send a letter to Harfang Longbottom later,” Hespera smiled. ‘’Thanks to his help, we managed to secure a meeting with the convicts before the official investigation started.”

“I would never have expected Longbottom to partake in such activities. He seems too proper for this,” Orion said.

“He’s Fleamont’s Blood-Brother. A Longbottom would never ignore a Potter’s call for help.”

“In a way, his pledge extends to you since you’re Fleamont’s distant cousin,” Orion surmised and she could tell by the hint of a smile around his mouth that he was pleased.

First and Foremost, he was Heir Black. Gathering more allies and securing the family’s welfare would always be his priority.

As if reading her thoughts, Orion winked and steered her towards Lord Bones’ office. “Let’s get over with this then leave.”

The moment they stepped in, Hespera’s eyes hardened and frosty air rushed into the room.

“Easy,” Death’s soothing voice managed to make her get a grip on her temper.

“What are you doing here, Mr Dumbledore?” Orion asked with a razor edge in his voice.

Lord Bones smiled tightly. “I was about to ask the same question. I believe this is a private matter, Albus.”

Hespera clenched her teeth and waited. Underneath the calculated control, she was seething.

Could the man she respected above all sink any lower?

It wasn’t difficult to fall for his guileless charm and his innocent words. Hespera, however, knew better.

She had to keep herself on guard at all times and prepare for his traps, donning an armor fully resistant to his mind games.

She would never underestimate such a dangerous opponent.

“This is a grave matter, Robert. We need to know who had the temerity to attack Lady Peverell in public, and most importantly, we need to know why,” Dumbledore said, the steely determination in his voice giving no hint of hesitation.

Bones’ eyes narrowed. “And I don’t need your help to do my job properly. I wonder what gave you the impression that I can’t handle this case.”

Hespera braced herself and tipped her head back. “Lord Bones is right. This is a private matter. I trust in the DMLE proficiency.”

For a moment, Dumbledore looked too stunned to speak. It seemed he was seldom told off.

“I can assure you that I won’t hinder this investigation. But if what I suspect is true, this case is bigger than what you think,” he sighed.

“Then, why don’t you tell us what you know, first? I’m sure Lord Bones is interested in hearing what you have,” Orion suggested nonchalantly as he snaked an arm around her waist.

Bones lifted an eyebrow while his brown eyes blazed. “Heir Black is right. What in Merlin’s Name are you talking about? Is there a danger I’m not aware of?”

The two men regarded each other in silence for a moment, before Dumbledore spoke. “I’m sorry, Robert. I can’t fill you in with the rumours I heard until I have solid facts.”

Hespera barely held her snort.

How typical of Albus Dumbledore to demand answers while he had no intention of sharing information.

“How...expected,” Bones said, not bothering to hide his frustration. “Then I believe you should leave, Albus. You’re neither a part of this case nor are you Lady Peverell’s relative. I don’t see why you’re here.”

Dumbledore’s smile disappeared and the twinkle left his eyes. “I’m not the enemy, Robert. All I want is peace and the safety of every witch and wizard who belongs to Magical Britain.”

Hespera shook her head. She supposed it was too much to hope that he would be accommodating enough to leave.

His actions were somehow predictable. Albus Dumbledore was under the impression that he was The Saviour and the greatest wizard this land has birthed.

He was a stellar duellist, she couldn’t deny that yet the lacked the moral fiber, the honesty and the chivalry that made all the difference between a knowledgeable wand-wielder and a Protector.

Determination permeated every part of her being. She had to fight Dumbledore and his ploys if she had any hope of making the future a better place.

“Mr Dumbledore, I don’t know what you believe this is about. What I can confirm, though, is that I was ambushed by two fools who don’t know how to treat a Lady properly.”

Bones’ eyes widened. “Lady Peverell—‘’

Hespera nodded resolutely. “I believe Bulstrode and Burke attacked me because they disagree with the projects I proposed. They’re two narrow-minded young wizards who took more than they can handle. I trust you will deal with them accordingly.”

Dumbledore’s sharp eyes scanned her face. “Lady Peverell, I implore you to consider the incident more thoroughly.”

Hespera lifted a brow wondering if he was jesting. “I did that, just now. You can’t find something if it doesn’t exist in the first place.”

Satisfaction washed over her as he paled drastically.

Orion took a step forward and said quietly. “Fear can be a powerful weapon, and mystery will only increase the fear in the heart of the victim and the confidence in the heart of the enemy. Why would we spread untruths while nothing but what my fiancée said happened?”

Bones cleared his throat. “Very well. Do you want to add something else, Lady Peverell?”

“No. This is what I concluded. I don’t know if they had other motives, I won’t impede your investigation and pretend that I’m an Auror.”

“Precisely,” Orion smirked pleased by the tightening of Dumbledore’s mouth. “With Lady Peverell’s revolutionary ideas, I think it’s likely that there is more than a pair of enemies lurking in the shadows. This is staggering and annoying but we’ll be more careful from now on. I can assure you that whoever wants to harm us or ours won’t accomplish his goals.”

Bones tipped his head, conceding the point. His eyes, however, told another story.

He wasn’t convinced but it was too early for the Ministry to get involved. 

The corner of her mouth curved in a disgusted smile as she remembered Fudge’s inefficiency.

She had no trust in authority, none at all.

Her past experiences left her bitter and taught her a valuable lesson the hard way.

--

Hespera grinned pleased with the goblins’ work.

“This is wonderful,” Melania said. “You can tell that this Manor was built to house several people at once.”

Lycoris nodded. “Your ancestors had style, Hespera. The upper rooms are comfortable and can be used as suites to accommodate the children we’ll be bringing in. The two first floors should remain as they’re. You can use them as family quarters whenever you visit. The wards will make sure that you and Orion will have all the privacy you need,” the older Black winked mischievously.

Hespera blushed. “You can use the first floors whenever you want, too. You’re always welcome here.”

Lycoris chuckled. “I’ll take you at your word, my dear. I can imagine the kind of parties I can organize with the size of the ballroom. This Manor is colossal.”

Melania sighed exhaustively. “We’re not here to arrange parties, Lycoris. Magical children need us.”

Lycoris waved her off. “They will need some entertainment, too. They will need to be taught how to behave properly in elite circles. They’re our responsibility and I won’t allow anyone to find fault with them.”

Melania and Hespera exchanged a wistful look while Lycoris studied a vintage ceramics vase.

Like Cassiopeia, Lycoris had no interest in marriage and children. That, however, didn’t mean that she wasn’t a kind and caring woman.

Lucretia and Orion related tales of their childhood and recounted how much their Aunt Lycoris spoiled them.

Hespera did not doubt that Lycoris, like Melania and Lucretia, would be a great help in managing the future school.

Melania steered Lycoris toward the gardens, while Hespera headed to the end of the Great Hall.

She stopped at the end and swung open a heavy wooden door. 

“This room belonged to Ignotus Peverell,” Death supplied. “It was his private sanctuary. Unlike his brothers, your great-grandfather valued solitude and quietness. I could make a guess and tell that his personality reflected the Cloak of Invisibility’s nature. He was like you. He abhorred boisterous crowds and didn’t care about recognition or glory.”

Hespera swallowed thickly. “What about his brothers?”

“Antioch was hot-tempered and audacious. He was an outstanding duelist, the best. He was a great teacher, though. He helped many an aspiring apprentice to hone their skills and master the art of duelling” 

Hespera rolled her eyes when Death finally materialized out of thin air. 

She could almost see his grin. “I missed you, Mistress.”

Hespera ignored the twinge of warmth that filled her heart.

She missed the annoying bastard but she would rather die than confess that.

She huffed instead. “But you’re always with me, spying and snooping and wreaking havoc in my mind. You should have warned me what this Title entailed when we first met.”

He tilted his hooded head to the side. “You would’ve accepted anyway. That life was no longer yours. This is where you belong.”

“What about Cadmus?” she asked casually, surveying the enormous room with the canopied bed and massive stone hearth. Against the west wall, there stood a deep walnut wardrobe library she was certain Cassiopeia would kill to have. The desk was large, with the Peverell Sigil engraved in the middle.

She couldn’t contradict Death. Every word he said was the absolute truth.

“Cadmus, unlike his last descendant, was a romantic at heart. He loved deeply and yearned for a large family,” Death said.

Hespera found the tale beguiling.

There was a subtle undercurrent of affection in Death’s voice and she knew that he had cherished her ancestors and valued their sacrifice.

Death swept his hand to the abundance of books filling the shelves. “You’ll find many original scrolls here, scripted by Ignotus. It’s your chance to know him better.”

She thought about it and drew in a small bit of her bottom lip between her teeth. “Why?”

“Because destroying Tom Riddle and ensuring that the war doesn’t happen isn’t the sole reason you’re here ,” Death said softly. “Your journey just started, Hespera. You should enjoy life and do whatever takes your fancy. You can shield young orphans and protect werewolves and make everyone see the glaring truth: Magic Is Might and being stronger doesn’t make you better, it makes you responsible, it makes you a Protector.”

“But—‘’

‘’If you are about to say this is so much then save your breath. This is who you are and it’s time you accept it. You’ve always been a Saviour whether you wanted or not. It’s in your blood, Mistress.”

Death offered a hand and she took it without protest.

Her head dropped on his hard chest and she closed her eyes tight.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“But you love me, too,” he chuckled dryly.

Tom Marvolo Riddle’s red eyes snapped to Lord Nott. “Do you still think that the tales about her skill are exaggerated?”

His cold voice was like an abyss that trapped whoever was listening.

“I admit she’s a worthy opponent,” Nott sighed.

Tom grinned, pleased that his follower had seen the value of his words.

Nott flinched inwardly. Unpredictable at best, Tom Riddle was outright hostile at worst.

“Myth can be as powerful as the truth. Legends sang the Peverells’ praises, comparing them to Deities. They were  revered not only for what they had but for what they were. Their knowledge and fighting ability is said to be unmatched,” Tom looked out the window with a frown. ‘’Hespera Peverell could be our greatest asset or our worst nightmare.”

“But she’s no match for you,” Nott hurried to say.

Tom shrugged. “She’s too independent for my liking. Her lack of fealty to the Ministry says enough about her character.”

Nott stroked his chin, the hairs of his short beard extending to a fine point. “She has no respect for Dumbledore, either. She took his praised wand in the first meeting.”

“I will just have to make her an offer she can’t refuse. I won’t mind if she doesn’t stand in my way.”

Nott looked sceptical. “Are you sure that is wise?”

Tom smirked. “I have no intention of confronting her for now. Everyone has his weakness. We just have to find out what is hers.”

Nott nodded, though he still didn't look convinced. "Then you are resolved?"

Tom paused. 

Could he completely abandon the ideals of the past to wage a new kind of war, one antithetical to everything he was taught at Hogwarts?

To win, to make every fool understand that they were superior to Mudbloods he could...he would. 

In any event, he needed to be ready. And there was no doubt in his mind that he'd be better prepared and build his army carefully.

"I am. Bringing these fools to their knees won't be easy, but we’ll do whatever we must to see it done. Magical Britain will be ruled by me, Salazar Slytherin’s last descendant.”

Nott met his fiery gaze and sobered immediately. A chill swept through him as he discerned the resignation, the malice and the madness in his old friend’s eyes.

“And I’ll follow you,” he said grimly. 

They had reached the point of no return.

He thought of Tom’s words before starting this movement: ‘Failure is not an option.’

The words echoed in the same tone in his mind and they translated. 'To betray me is to die.’

Merlin save them all.

Chapter Text

‘’Shall we, then?’’ Hespera heard the undercurrent of playfulness in Cassiopeia’s voice and found herself excited to start.

“Make sure not to be hard on my poor Orion, though,” Cassiopeia chuckled and Hespera smirked.

“You are a traitor, Cassiopeia. I can handle myself,’’ Orion smiled and she couldn’t help her reaction to his husky drawl.

An indecent thrill sent chill bumps racing across her back as Orion inched closed and took a duelling stance.

“Why, thank you,” Cassiopeia bowed dramatically and stepped down, leaving them to face off.

It felt brazen and exhilarated and oh so good to duel again. Being in full control of her core made the experience all the more pleasant.

Wielding her magic and casting the deadliest offensive hexes and the most impregnable defensive spells elicited a sense of freedom deep within that she never tasted in her previous life.

She had always been an accomplished Duellist, now, however, it was different.

She had a better grasp on her magic and was no longer held by Dumbledore and the Light’s expectations and restrictions for only a fool would rely on a Disarming Charm when their life was in peril.

She became furious when she remembered how many times she was rendered helpless against a vicious attack thanks to the ridiculous beliefs she used to cling to.

No longer would she accept any decree that she was to follow some meek rules and smother the witch inside that wanted to be set free.

“Repellendum,” Orion threw with a simple wave of his wand and the fight started.

She staggered to keep her ground and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I am a Spell Crafter, my dear. You’re the only one who can handle my creations.”

Sucking in a breath, she circled him waiting for his next move.

His eyes shone diamond-bright revealing nothing and she sensed his tension and eagerness.

With a lightning-fast flick of the Elder Wand, she murmured. “Ardeat.”

The big flame of hellfire headed toward Orion but he countered with an Ice Shield.

“Not bad. You can always make it hotter,” Cassiopeia shrugged.

Orion shook his head and threw the next spell. “Glacies Pugiones.”

Her eyes narrowed on the Ice Daggers and she countered with a shield of pure magic that absorbed them.

“Wonderful,” Orion exclaimed. “Though, I trust few could handle using pure magic.”

“Why don’t you show me something...darker,” she taunted knowing well the kind of spells he was working on.

He smiled, making her clutch her wand tighter. Even though she didn’t need it anymore, she loved the comfort its warmth brought.

“Secare Totalis,” he whispered and despite the frigid air surrounding them, sweat poured from her brow as she held to her shield.

Her jaw ached from the strain and her eyes narrowed in concentration.

She sensed the different layers of the spell and knew that if she let go of her shield, she would regret it.

He lowered his wand and smirked appreciatively. “Well done."

The glint of approval warmed her to her toes. She wanted Orion to be proud of her, to look upon her with favour and not find fault.

“You’ve been hiding some beautiful creations, Orion Black,” Cassiopeia grinned widely. “I would like to learn more about the wand movements.”

Orion gifted Cassiopeia with a smirk. “You know how precious knowledge is, Cassiopeia. Nevertheless, I will take pity on you and quench your thirst for more deadly spells.”

Hespera pressed her lips together and threw her next spell.

It was a Blood Curdling Curse she learned thanks to her lessons with Elladora Black.

Orion’s eyes flared with surprise. He moved his wand in an intricate pattern and a wall of pure silver stood between him and her spell.

It never ceased to amaze her how talented he was with a wand and more than often she cursed Walburga for rendering this gifted young wizard to nothing but a helpless shell of himself.

“Hespera?” Orion said in a low voice, always perceptive of her moods.

Her hand curled around her wand and she smiled. “I’m fine. Let’s duel some more. Uncle Regulus and Alphard can always wait.”

Cassiopeia scoffed and sauntered toward the door. “Don’t keep Regulus waiting for long. I feel for my cousin’s mental acuity if he gets any more excited.”

Her heart thundered, pounding against her chest like a Fairy’s wing when Orion’s eyes darkened.

She looked warily at the glint in his eye. He was spoiling for a fight today, had been since she was ambushed a few weeks ago.

She knew he was worried and wanted to make sure she was ready for whatever the Pureblood Movement had in store for her.

“Orion?”

He didn’t give her a mere second before blistering satisfaction set on his face.

He grinned. “Cassiopeia is not here anymore. Show me what you have Hespera. Show me the might of the Mistress of Death.”

“Are you sure about that, Black?” Death whispered with heavy sarcasm.

“If you harm him…” she warned and wilted with relief when he purred. “I would never harm Orion Black, I have plans for him. Good plans that would satisfy you, Mistress.”

“What—‘’ she inquired but gasped when Orion charged at her with a chain of lethal jinxes and hexes.

She met his attack and was jarred to her toes when she blocked one Dark curse she didn’t know.

For almost an hour, they fought furiously, exchanging fire with fire.

Belligerent spells and Dark curses flew in the air as they grappled viciously and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt so free.

She watched with alert as he lowered his wand, ran a ragged hand through his hair and crossed the distance between them.

She put her wand down and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest.

He rested his cheek on the top of her head and held her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe.

“Shall we freshen up and leave?” The question came muffled against his duelling robes.

He remained silent for a moment then slowly drew her away so that he looked down into her eyes.

“You are a terrific Duelist. I know you’re still holding back, though.” His fingers touched her cheek and grazed along her jaw.

She hugged him tighter. “You are not bad yourself.”

“I believe we should leave if we don’t want Uncle Regulus and Alphard to barge in. Alpha Greyback doesn’t seem like the most patient…wolf, too.”

Hespera put her finger over his lips and he kissed it. “I don’t know what's going on between you and Greyback. Why does he annoy you to this extent?”

Orion’s eyes gleamed with a wicked light and for a moment, she swore they turned stark black. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He slid his hands down her body, coming to stop at her waist. Then he placed his palm over the flat of her back, through the folds of her thick duelling robes.

Suddenly impatient, he pulled at the material until she was free of the thick garment and standing only in her dress.

Then his hand returned to her back and he held her closer until her chest was crushed against his.

She smoothed her hands over his hair and then dug her fingers into his scalp, holding him against the very heart of her as she snickered. “We’ll be late.”

Orion huffed and kissed a path down her neck, setting her pulse off-kilter. “I know.”

Mr Darnell Farley, the director of The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures swallowed audibly and paled a shade lighter as Beta Caelan MacGriogair towered over them.

He hesitated, a troubled expression appearing in his tip-tilted blue eyes when Caelan smiled widely. “Follow me.”

Alphard sighed. “To come back here this soon…I’m starting to believe that my talent is my curse.”

Hespera snorted. “As if you’re not eager to witness the first transformation under Wolfsbane.”

“Heir Black, are you sure this is safe?” Darnell asked, lacing his fingers tighter over his wand.

He was asked by Minister Tuft to tag along and see if the potion worked.

He didn’t seem pleased with his task, though.

“It is safe as long as you keep your wand in your holster and stop ogling our hosts,” Orion raised an eyebrow.

“But—“ Darnell stuttered, looking at Beta Caelan’s back warily.

“Mr Farley, aren’t you aware that Werewolves don’t require wands to channel their magic? To put it simply, your wand is useless here. Your only chance to leave this gate at dawn is either to act properly or to be a Master of Wandless Magic,” Regulus quipped as he examined the beautiful garden surrounding the main building. “I can’t wait to get my hands on more Hyoscyamus Niger and Artemisia.’’

Alphard groaned. “Uncle Regulus, are you serious? I thought you couldn’t wait to see the fruit of our hard labour.”

“Of course I am,” Regulus countered. “It doesn’t mean that I can’t benefit from my stay here. Only a fool couldn't multitask.”

Orion wanted to shake his head.

Leave it to his uncle to daydream about rare potions' ingredients when they were about to become the first Wixen to attend a Full Moon at Luna Silva Forest.

The Minister wouldn’t allow Regulus and Alphard to execute the last part of their experiment in London.

She feared that if the potion failed, they would have a feral werewolf to take care of.

“The Minister’s vanity is flattered by the way we strive to emulate her righteousness and follow her orders. I am the one putting my neck on the line here,” Alphard muttered under his breath.

“Mr Black!” Darnell gasped, sounding scandalized.

“I meant no offence,” Alphard rolled his eyes. “Wait till you meet Alpha Greyback and you’ll understand.”

Hespera chuckled. “He’s a good Alpha. Thanks to him, we’ll secure the pack’s future.”

“Thank you for your trust, Lady Peverell,” Caelan threw over his head reminding them of his heightened senses. “I’m sure Alpha Greyback appreciates it.”

Alphard couldn’t help but laugh when Darnell tripped.

“You are familiar with werewolves aren’t you Mr Farley?” Orion asked coolly.

“I’ve never met one in person. All my knowledge comes from books.”

“Be grateful, then,” Regulus smirked, his eyes gleaming with an unholy light. “This is your chance to meet a whole pack at once.”

--

Orion believed that Alpha Fenrir Greyback’s bred-in-the-bone wildness was accompanied by an insufferable air of superiority. He understood what was at stake, yet couldn’t the mammoth of a man act more cordially? He pitied poor Farley. He doubted that the director would survive the night.

“These three pack members are your volunteers,” Alpha Greyback mentioned to two males and a female. “Fergus Byrne and our pack’s twins; Eon and Aisla McCarthy generously agreed to let you stand by as they spend the night in the forest.”

He approached them in a relaxed amble, his hands in the pockets of his simple tan pants. “I trust you won’t trespass your boundaries. I’ll be nearby if you require help.”

He smiled in a show of pointed fangs and Orion couldn’t shake off the feeling that the Alpha expected them to ignore his warning and get the fright of their lives.

“But won’t you need to shift as well?” Farley asked.

Fenrir gave him a curious glance and his lips twitched with mirth. “You don’t seem very knowledgeable about Werewolves, Mr Farley. I am the Alpha, a born werewolf. My beast and I are one. I don’t need the Full Moon to let it out.”

He punctuated his words with a show of glowing golden eyes and Darnell whimpered.

‘’It serves him right,” Hespera muttered. “Have you heard how he scrutinized the pack earlier? He believes he’s better than them.”

Alpha Greyback regarded her with intensity and Orion held her closer to his side. “Let’s have a stroll while waiting for the Full Moon," he suggested, intending to steer her away.

“I’ll be glad to show you around,” Alpha Greyback offered with a grin.

Hespera’s eyes narrowed, bewildered by Orion's reaction when he stiffened. He wasn’t looking forward to spending more time than necessary in the Alpha’s presence. He almost lost control over his beast when Hespera was attacked a few weeks ago. He had no inkling why the werewolf’s closeness bristled his animal’s fur and made it growl. Hespera stared at him and he nodded.

“Very good. Please, do follow me,” Alpha Greyback said innocently but the underline of smugness in his voice set Orion’s nerves on edge.

He was momentarily distracted by the beauty that surrounded them: the crunch of the leaves underneath their feet, the wind whistling through the trees, the heavenly smell of Bluebells, Primroses and Twinflower.

Hespera kept up with him easily and he felt her elation like his own.

“This place is heaven,” her voice softened to a whisper.

“It is home,” Alpha Fenrir said, “had been hidden and protected by the Wolf’s Magic since my Great Grandfather was chosen as a Child of the Moon and inhabited this land. Few believe that men can live removed from what you call civilization but you won’t hear us complain. Wixen lost their path the moment they started calling their Brethren by names. The wizard you brought with you…” he growled. “How dare the Ministry consider us creatures and set regulations to control us? A werewolf’s freedom is their greatest possession; no Wix can extricate it from within.”

Hespera relinquished her hold on his arm and raised her head, looking at the Alpha.

“Again, I apologize for what your pack had to go through. The Ministry’s complete intolerance of any creed, belief, or opinion is unacceptable.”

Fenrir stopped on the path, which forced them to do the same. He leaned back against a thick trunk as he looked at the darkening sky. His golden eyes scanned their faces for a moment before he started in a deadly voice. “You’re not the first Wix to reach for me, Lady Peverell. I was visited by a wizard a year ago. He promised me riches beyond my dreams if I agreed to help him attain his grail.”

Hespera pursued her lips and Orion knew she was thinking the same.

Tom Riddle wanted to recruit Alpha Greyback and his pack. It would cause nothing but trouble and…death.

Werewolves held a deep grudge against the British Ministry of Magic and all those who decreed the austere laws restricting their freedom.

If given the chance, they would have their revenge.

Alpha Greyback smiled wistfully. “For a moment, I was tempted. I asked him to give me some time to consider my options. Linking my fate and that of my pack with a human went against every instinct I have but for my pack, I would do anything.”

“Would your wolf agree to be restrained? You’ll lose yourself in the process,” Orion said.

The Alpha’s gaze slid over him in open evaluation. ‘’Yes. It will be as if I'm betraying my nature,” he said in disgust as he related his thoughts.  “Thankfully, I received your letter before it was too late,” Greyback continued smiling down at Hespera.

She reached up and set a hand on his sleeve. “Thank you for waiting. I would never condemn your pack to slavery. You deserve nothing but freedom.”

Greyback nodded. “I know. Slowly but steadily we’ll have it thanks to Master Black’s potion. I will ask you something, though,’’ He said decisively. “You have to put an end to this wizard and abort his plans for our people won’t know peace until he's gone.”

A brief silence sifted through the serene piece of heaven as the three exchanged meaningful glances.

“We will,” Orion assured what seemed to be their newest ally.

“And I’ll be glad to help for a life without freedom is a cursed existence,” Alpha Fenrir Greyback said flatly, looking up at the Full Moon.

Chapter Text

Hespera grinned and settled her back against Orion’s chest as they gazed at the stars.

“We did it,” she said virtuously ignoring his huff. “Alpha Greyback has been a great help.”

His hand caressed the one she had on his forearm. “It’s his duty and privilege to care for his pack.”

She bit her lip to hide her amusement and nodded.

When he lifted a challenging eyebrow, she pecked his cheek obediently and gave him a radiant smile. “He reminds me of you. I know that you would do anything for your family.

“And for you. Never forget that, my dear,” he held her gaze for a moment and she couldn’t help the hot blush that crept up her neck and cheeks despite the cold breeze.

“It’s beautiful here,” she murmured, lifting her eyes to the starry swath of perfect darkness. “It feels like I can touch the sky.”

Orion touched a lock of hair that escaped her messy hairdo and lay on her forehead.

Quietly, he held her hand up and pointed it at a vivid agglomeration of stars. “This is The Hunter constellation, my namesake. It contains the brightest two stars in the sky, Rigel and Betelgeuse.”

His eyes glinted dangerously as Hespera mulled over his words and said incredulously. “Well, I’m thankful that you did not name one of your sons Betelgeuse in my time. I’m certain he wouldn’t have appreciated your choice.”

Orion smirked. “Does it mean I'm free to presume that you like the sound of Rigel?”

Hespera spluttered as understanding started washing over her. “I—but you named your sons Sirius and Regulus…”

He pulled her deftly against his chest and smugness oozed from him as he explained. “That, I did. But I’ve never loved Walburga. I don’t know how we managed to have two sons to begin with. Yet...”

His hand grabbed hers again and pointed it toward a series of small stars. “Did you know that Orion consists of seven stars: two for the shoulders, two for the feet and three for the belt? He wasn’t considered the most accomplished Hunter for nothing.”

He lowered her hand and his thumb moved slowly over her inner wrist. His other hand guided her face slowly toward his. “Seven is the most magical number.”

The vague amusement she felt coming from him made her heart dissolve in a rush of warmth. “Orion…Seven?”

“I want to have everything with you, Hespera,” he whispered as he stared down at her intently. “I want to forget the memories I saw in your head. You had just appeared like a divine fruit dropping from the Fates’ tree into my outstretched palm and I can’t risk letting go of you, the one gift Providence had ever seen fit to bestow on me.”

Her response dwindled to wordless murmurs as she sorted through his heartfelt words.

She stared at him—really stared at him—and wondered how could anyone consider Orion Arcturus Black cold and calculating. He was the warmest man she ever met.

“Nothing will tear us apart,” she vowed.

The mischievous twinkle in his eyes was replaced by satisfaction as he saw her face and she couldn’t help but add. “Not even Fenrir Greyback can tempt me to leave your side.”

“You—“ he growled, making her shiver as his eyes darkened at an alarming speed.

He didn’t give her time to ponder on the recurring happenstance since they stepped into Luna Silva Forest.

“You are ours," an inhuman voice asserted with so much confidence.

“Orion…” her jaw dropped when coal-black eyes met her gaze without blinking.

She touched his face and impulsively blurted the first word that came to mind. 

“The Grim.”

“And a very possessive one at that. Congratulations Mistress, you awakened your Black Guard,” Death pointed out, sounding amused before he faded away.

Her heart beat wildly and at that moment, she didn’t care if she was about to take leave of her senses.

Sirius….The Grim…

Because Orion’s essence had always been there, hidden under layers of self-doubt and resentment and anger.

Because despite Walburga’s treachery and abuse, Sirius loved his father deeply.

Sirius had been her most ardent protector for the short while they were allowed.

Her breath caught in wonder and giddiness as she launched herself forward and clung to him until not even an hair separated them.

She dropped her face into the curve of his neck, taking his scent into her heart, into her bones.

His arms closed around her before he took her face in his large hands and pressed his mouth to hers. 

He pressed demanding, possessive kisses over her lips and jaw swallowing her moans.

Blood raced in her veins as the bond between them clicked into place, more powerful, more solid than time itself.

“You are mine,” he inhaled deeply as he lifted his dark head and although his voice was low, it had the effect of the loudest shout.

“Yours,” she regarded him tenderly.

The admission earned her a smirk that no mere human could ever produce.

Orion felt as if every breath was being pried out of him with steel tweezers as they stood facing the crumbling shack that used to belong to the Gaunts.

His hard silver-grey eyes flickered over the haunted area that felt as if it has erupted from the nub of the darkest place in the Underworld.

The Dark Magic saturating the air was vile and smelled like brimstone.

Forbidden Magic.

Such sight was unusual for a Pureblood stronghold that carried centuries’ worth of tales and accomplishments.

Yet, the low depths its owners sank to before their ultimate demise were tangible.

The building was a crumbling mass of filth, the area was crawling with a variety of poisonous snakes; the kind the Gaunts used to trust to guard their backs.

Some passersby glanced furtively at them, their puzzled eyes resting on the two women flanking him, without breaking pace.

“I can’t handle annoyances right now,’’ Cassiopeia turned away, striding along the broken pavement as she murmured a Repelling Ward, her hand moving stealthily under her billowing cloak.

Orion shook his head in exasperation.

Cassiopeia’s hand could do plenty of wonders—or damages—whenever it wrapped against her Yew and Thestral Heartstring wand.

Gradually, he became aware of the few steps Hespera took as she examined the outer ward.

Something about her face caused a warning to prickle along his spine.

Deliberately, he followed and swore silently when his creature growled in disgust.

How the mighty have fallen, indeed.

As if hearing his inner thoughts, Cassiopeia smoothed her immaculate clothes and pinned back a lock of hair that had miraculously escaped her coiffure. “I’m not one to care for others, whether they flourish or perish—and I would like to keep it that way—but it saddens me to see Salazar Slytherin’s legacy reduced to this,” she said scathingly. “The Gaunts were their worst enemy. Their vanity led to their demise. Look at this…this grime.”

“I don’t know much about Salazar Slytherin other than the tales I was told. But you’re right, he would be enraged. More so, if he meets his last descendant,” Hespera agreed as she moved her hand, working on the wards.

“Let me help,” Orion volunteered. “You’re the only one equipped to deal with the snakes.”

“I would like to have some of their poison for altruistic reasons, of course. My poor Regulus would appreciate a vial or two,” Cassiopeia smiled in fake innocence.

“I won’t dispose of them,” Hespera answered firmly. “They suffered enough as it is.”

When Cassiopeia's face dropped, she sighed. “But I’ll ask nicely. Please, they have been subjected to a curse forbidding them from leaving this place for years. I want to set them free.”

“Your fiancée is too good to be real, Orion," Cassiopeia said sardonically. 

“Let’s get to work, we don’t have all day. Also, I don’t want any surprises. We’re not ready to face Riddle yet,” Orion remarked, his face cold as he started deactivating the outer ward.

“Don’t worry, he’s nothing but a conniving bastard. He’s not ready to face us, either.” Cassiopeia shrugged and closed her eyes, muttering under her breath.

He heard Hespera hiss and understood that she was releasing the snakes from whatever linked them to the premise.

“He won’t appreciate the intrusion,” she gave a soft laugh threaded with viciousness. “He thinks himself more resourceful than most. He would never suspect his secret to be discovered.”

“And that’s his greatest oversight,” Orion said pleasantly. “As luck would have it, he won’t notice what he lost until it’s too late for him to retaliate.”

“But he will retaliate,” Cassiopeia smiled with obvious excitement. “It will start tomorrow when he understands that we have the Werewolves by our side. Furthermore, he will wonder why you kept the truth about the assault to yourselves. His scepticism will become his undoing and I won’t lie, I’m looking forward to that.”

“You will have your fun,” Hespera assured her as she conjured a glass vial and offered it to a mean-looking Timber Rattlesnake.

It bit the lip of the vial, its sharp fang producing a disturbingly golden poison.

“Perfect. I know what I’ll do with it,” Cassiopeia rubbed her hands together in excitement.

“And I don’t want to know,” Orion frowned. 

“Don’t worry, Heir Black. You will thank me later,” she winked unashamed.

“This is but the first step,” Hespera said as she watched the snake slither away. “Tom Marvolo Riddle is by far the cruellest and most complicated wizard I’ve ever met. He is capable of unmatched evil deeds.” She contemplated the rich amber depths in the vial. “I’m afraid that more too often he reveals himself as a man of irresistible charm, selling dreams and embellished words. He comes from a past more savage than you could begin to comprehend. He lost his humanity years ago and there’s no going back for him. All he knows is the grudge he holds against this world. He was abandoned, vilified, tortured and all that contributed to cerate a monster no nightmare could design.”

“Hespera…” Orion tried and failed to mask his strangled voice.

It troubled him how attuned she was to Tom Riddle.

It cemented the truth that they were so similar—like Dumbledore remarked years ago—but the paths they chose to follow made all the difference and saved Magical Britain from yet another monster.

She smiled faintly. “It’s all right, I’m fine.”

“You are capable of great understanding of human nature,” Cassiopeia marvelled, sounding fairly regretful. “I admit I have never cared, yet it’s crucial to be cognizant of your foes before your allies.”

Hespera shook her head ruefully. “I’m an expert in all things Tom Riddle-related. I’m not sure if it’s my blessing or my eternal curse.”

“We’ll make it a blessing even if we have to burn this world,” Orion stressed as he sensed the wards give under their meticulous work. 

He could feel the numerous curses that unfolded there dissolving into thin air.

Hespera glanced at the door and said. “Follow me. Don’t touch a thing until I say so.”

An odd sensation crept over him, a ticklish feeling on the back of his neck as he took prudent steps inside, Cassiopeia on his heels.

Disturbed, he watched as Hespera’s movements slowed while she hissed her gaze intent on an old tile.

Orion caught a shadowy glimpse underneath and stiffened.

Throughout the ordeal, his eyes didn’t leave Hespera.

Frequently, he glanced over his shoulder, even knowing that no one way Cassiopeia’s ward could be dismantled with ease—if ever.

“I’m done. Step back,” she remarked as she waved her hand and a small box floated from the hole under the tile.

“Is this what I think it is?” Cassiopeia’s said matter-of-fact, her eyes narrowed on the prize.

“Yes,” Hespera offered with disgust. “The ring contains a piece of his soul. One of the firsts he ever made.”

“Death will be pleased with your little gift,” Cassiopeia grinned ironically. “Although, I’d like to see his face as we dispense with his filthy soul.”

Orion would have liked to witness that too. He would be content with the knowledge they had outsmarted their foe, nevertheless.

“This is not over yet, far from it,” came Hespera’s firm reply. “We will get the Locket next but I wonder, where did he hide the Diary?”

“We’ll find it,” Orion said calmly. “I believe it’s time our allies get more invested in this battle.”

“I second that,” Cassiopeia nodded. “We may need more that the Werewolves, too. I heard that he managed to recruit the Giants and most of the Albanian Coven. He’s in talks with the Romanian Coven now.”

Orion was nonplussed. “Vampires?”

“Of course,” Cassiopeia whispered as if imparting a great secret. “Who’s better to have as allies than the handsome, invincible, blood-thirsty immortals? I’m certain you will be thrilled if you meet some of them.”

Chapter Text

Lord Nott’s jaw flexed with suppressed anger. “The Cure worked…Are you certain?”

“I never say a word I don’t mean, Lord Nott,” came Hespera’s brusque reply. ‘’I never lie, as well. The Cure worked and as esteemed members of this body, you are honour bound to keep your word and start integrating Werewolves into our society. They have rights they must have.”

Arcturus sent the constipated Lord a reproachful glance. ‘’I would watch my mouth if I were you, Nott. Blood Feuds had started for less than this. Try to discredit me or mine again and you will pay. You didn’t merely insult Lady Peverell, my future daughter-in-law, but you offended my brother, Master Regulus Black and his Apprentice, Alphard Black.”

Nott swallowed and, begrudgingly, sat down.

Although Orion was tempted to point out the flaws in Nott’s reasoning, he held his tongue, not deeming the brute worthy of his time.

Having been reared in a family notorious for its evil tempers and stubborn wills, he would never understand.

At that moment, Lord Nott was too much at the mercy of his passions to concede any wrongdoing.

But he had indeed behaved badly—and even if Hespera forgave him, it was unlikely that he or his father ever would.

Mercy was not a word House Black recognized as part of their vocabulary.

“Gentlemen, please,” Minister Tuft sighed in exasperation. “We’re not here to fight. Try to act like grown-ups for once and let’s finish this bloody session. I’m tired of your endless fights.”

“I’ll take over, Minster. Please, have a little rest,” Lord Fawley offered.

“Thank you, Hector,” Wilhemina Tuft glared at her audience before she retreated to her chamber for a short rest.

“Well, I’m not as gracious as the Minister. You will either address this matter seriously or leave this session at once,” Fawley warned.

“Hector, there’s no need for this,” Dumbledore said.

“No, I will have order,” Hector retorted coldly.

“Very well,” the twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes was snuffed.

“I don’t see the problem here,” Abraxas drawled lazily. “The Ministry sent an expert to witness the first transformation under the effect of Wolfsbane and the results were spectacular. Why are we arguing in the first place?”

“Lord Malfoy is right,” Fleamont Potter scowled. “As Lords and Ladies of Ancient Houses, we’re to keep our promises. Potters never go back on their words.”

“Aren’t you perchance insinuating something, Lord Potter?” Diggory hissed. “You’re not the only honourable wizard here.”

“Then, prove it, Caldwell. Act with integrity,” Harfang Longbottom’s face changed, and his gentle eyes became predatory.

This, Orion understood in a flash, was the version of Lord Longbottom, Fleamont's Blood-Brother, people regarded with fear and awe.

Never insult a Potter or a Potter ally in a Longbottom’s presence. The message was clear as day.

Amid the chaos, Lord Fulcran Lestrange stood regally and said. “Let’s go straight to votes. I don’t have time for children's play. You can express your displeasure with your vote. Although, I do advise my Fellow Lords against going back on their words and bringing shame to their family names. Those who agreed to let the experiment be carried should adhere to their choice.”

Orion smirked.

Leave it to Lord Lestrange’s cold logic to hit his allies and foes alike like a double-edged sword.

He always calibrated his words to test others’ limits. It was a talent he seemed to pass to his son and Heir.

He looked at Corvus who shrugged innocently.

“I agree with Lord Lestrange,” Arcturus nodded. “Let’s have a vote and be done with this farce.”

“All those in favour of Werewolves' integration into our society after the success of Potion Master Regulus Black’s latest invention, please do raise your wands,” Hector Fawley’s voice boomed with determination.

“Wow, he can be mean,” Hespera snickered.

“Never underestimate a Fawley,” Orion smiled. “Dumbledore doesn’t seem pleased, though. I wonder if he’s plotting something.”

“That’s not his style,” Hespera’s expression darkened. “He would never let his name be tainted publicly after Lord Lestrange’s heated speech.”

“That’s all that we need for now. We’ll be ready for his ploys.”

“And Alpha Greyback will help. The moment he’s welcomed back in Magical Britain with his pack, he’ll do all that he could to protect them,” Hespera smiled.

His Grim growled at the mention of the hated Alpha, but it wasn’t bothered as before.

Hespera had recognized them, accepted them for what they were and it was all that mattered.

Previously, horrid thoughts of her rejecting his Creature had haunted his nights and made sleep a fleeting dream.

He knew that Hespera was not capable of such vindictiveness that she might hurt and abandon him, it went against everything he learned about her.

However, for Natural Animagi like him, their Creature wasn’t merely the animal that represented them. It was an integral part of their body and soul. The Grim and him were one and the same, they couldn’t exist without the other.

If their proclaimed Mate refused them, they would be condemned to a life of shame and dishonour for the Grim was a proud, faithful Creature that would only love once.

Any hope of gaining love and a family would be lost to them and the disgrace would little by little break the Grim’s spirit and destroy him.

It was Orion’s deepest fear.

He knew that he wouldn’t survive without his Creature. He would be rendered to a shell of himself.

Like Sirius…

It pained him to remember what his son from Hespera’s first timeline went through, what he endured in the name of love and friendship.

His sons were the strongest wizards he knew and he prayed to Mother Magic to bestow that kindness upon him again.

He would cherish them in this life and never let them lose the right path.

He would protect his blood or die trying.

“Orion?” Hespera nudged him on the side.

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it. “I’m fine, my dear.”

She seemed unconvinced but nodded anyway.

Not long after, all those who supported the new law lifted their wands.

The light was blinding and Hespera couldn’t hide her wide grin.

“We won,” she said cheerfully.

“Of course, we did. I had no doubts,” Arcturus scoffed. “Only a fool would go back on his world and condemn his family’s name after your cousin, his blood-brother and Fulcran’s silent warning.”

“Very well,” Hector Fawley seemed pleased that the session was over. “The law is active as of now. Alpha Fenrir Greyback and his pack are to be welcomed back among us again. The Alpha is asked to present himself at the Wizengamot for the next session so we can discuss the details of the pack integration in our society. Wolfsbane is to be provided for free for every Werewolf who asks until they require the means to pay for it. Master Regulus Black, his Apprentice Mister Alphard Black and two Ministry workers who would be elected later would preside over this project. Anything else?”

Grumbles and murmurs filled the vast chamber.

Dumbledore exchanged a meaningful look with Diggory then plastered a fake smile over his lips.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Hespera or her allies.

Hespera enjoyed the quietness of Belgrave Square.

The exclusive street, unlike Diagon Alley, was quiet. It was the perfect spot for what she and Lucretia had in mind as they wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the bustle and roar of the Wixen going about their business.

“You didn’t bring me here for a simple outing,” Orion informed her in a matter-of-a-fact-tone. “You’re planning something.”

Hespera lifted an eyebrow in indignation. “What if I do? Aren’t you enjoying our stroll in Belgrave Square?”

Orion’s smile was predatory as his eyes raked over her body taking in every detail. “Of course, I am. I would follow you to the bottom of the Underworld if I have to. Never doubt that.”

“Smooth talker,” Death snorted. ‘'You have to be careful.”

“Shut up,” she threw back. “I need his help.”

“You’ll need mine too, Mistress. I’m your guardian angel and best friend,” she swore she heard the pout in Death’s voice but opted to ignore the brat for the time being.

“Alright, I need to ask you something. What if someday Lucretia met an eligible wizard from a renowned family? A gentleman who would let her have her opinions and wishes and encourage her to follow her dreams. What would you say as her brother and future Lord?” Hespera watched carefully as Orion absorbed her words.

As she talked, he looked at her closely, alert to every nuance of her expression and she couldn’t help but feel flustered and thrilled at once.

Lucretia intended to introduce Ignatius Prewett to her family but before that, she needed her brother’s support.

Hespera wasn’t worried about Arcturus.

She knew he would never stand in the way of his daughter’s happiness. Ignatius was from a family of a lower standing, though, which made Lucretia hesitate.

“Who is he, Hespera?” Orion asked neutrally but she knew him too well. 

“A good wizard. I will vouch for his integrity and character. You know that I consider Lucretia the sister I never—“

Orion traced the edge of her wrist. “That’s not what I meant,” he shook his head. “Many eligible Heirs asked for a Betrothal Contract with Lucretia but she refused. She was adamant that they were not the match she was looking for. My sister is stubborn and strong-willed and no one—not ever Father—can force her to do something she doesn’t want to which makes me wonder, who’s the wizard who managed to steal her heart?”

Hespera’s lips twitched. “You’re about to find out. I arranged a meeting with them and they should be waiting for us. Let’s hurry.”

Orion tugged her closer to his side, ignoring her gasp. “You wound me, Hespera. When you asked me to accompany you for some errands, I thought you were seeking my company or perhaps, planning a secret date.”

She could feel red banners of colour emblazon the crests of her cheeks as she licked her suddenly dry lips. “I do enjoy your company, Orion,” she confessed looking into his dark eyes. “In fact, we’re going to have a double date with Lucretia and the secret wizard.”

Orion’s gaze dropped to her lips. “Now that you got me intrigued, I have to find out more about this wizard. but—“ He lifted her hand and looked at their engagement ring, “I’ll expect to have that date later. It’s such a shame that we seldom enjoyed an evening alone as other betrothed couples do.”

The idea seized her and she blushed as she remembered their night in Luna Silva Forest, reclining on the moist grass and gazing at the shining stars while devising plans for a future she couldn’t wait for.

She would like nothing more than to relax in the evenings and watch him as he worked on his spells.

Afterwards, they would cuddle under the starry sky and exchange warm embraces and kisses.

They wouldn’t need to speak. Their hearts and souls would do all the talking as happiness and contentment coursed through them.

But first—

“We’re here,” she said exuberantly.

“Don’t give me that look. I love my sister,” Orion chided gently as he adjusted his perfect robes. “However…” he smirked and she didn’t get the chance to say more for he linked their arms and ushered her inside Rós Dearg Restaurant.

Hespera found herself in an oasis of soothing decorum.

The interior was made of pearly marble with grand terraces on the sides for customers who preferred a view of the street.

Soulful music played from an enchanted Harp as the waiters took orders and delivered food.

Baked sweet smells wafted into the ostentatious space, heralding the approach of soft delicacies and her mouth watered.

“This restaurant is—breathtaking…“ Hespera whispered.

“I can take you to more lavish places. All you have to do is ask,” Orion gestured for her to precede him. 

His slow grin and the beguiling dimple it produced disappeared though the moment he noticed Lucretia and her company.

Hespera inched closer, taking his hand in hers as he prowled toward the couple.

Ignatius Prewett seemed uneasy for a fleeting moment but Lucretia’s nod made his shoulders straighten.

He was handsome in full evening attire with a crisp white cravat.

His family Emblem was stitched proudly over his left breast pocket.

“Merry Meet, Lady Peverell, Heir Black,” Ignatius bowed before he took her hand in his and kissed her fingers.

“Lord Prewett, a pleasure as always. How have you been doing?” Hespera smiled.

Orion looked at her questioningly and she shrugged.

“Lord Prewett,” Orion inclined his head before he took a seat next to her.

Ignatius cleared his throat and looked Orion in the eye. “Heir Black, I know that my House does not measure up to yours. Miss Lucretia Black is an accomplished witch and I can’t believe she agreed to this courting. Nevertheless, I can’t dishonour her and start this relationship, with the intention of marrying her, without the family’s knowledge and expressed consent.’’

“Naturally,” came Orion’s arid response. “That, and the fact that Father would most definitely kill you if you do that.”

“Orion,” Hespera hissed.

Ignotus looked between them with blatant unease.

“What Orion meant but failed to express is that he applauds you for doing the right thing,” Lucretia glared at her brother.

Orion gave her a sardonic smile. “I do applaud Lord Prewett’s tenacity, indeed.”

Then to Ignatius he said, his diamond eyes sparkling with amusement. “Does that mean you’re asking for my blessing, Lord Prewett?”

Ignatius set back in his chair. “Of course, I am. You’re Miss Lucretia’s brother and future Lord. I reckoned I would approach you first before seeking Lord Black’s approval.”

Hespera tightened her hold on Orion’s hand.

“Then you have it. I can see that you make my sister happy and it’s all that matters. It doesn’t hurt that you know which family Lucretia comes from. I don’t need to warn you for our family is notorious for paying back misdeeds in kind. Hurt Lucretia and you will get hurt. Tenfold.”

Ignatius paled as Lucretia rolled her eyes, immune to her younger brother’s antics.

“Thank you,” Ignatius croaked.

“You can call me Orion. You will become family as soon as Father approves,” Orion offered.

“Then please, do call me Ignatius.” The redhead’s grin widened.

Finally, the waiter brought their drinks.

Orion handed her a small glass filled with a fruity-smelling drink.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s an Irish traditional drink extracted from red roses’ syrup, pomegranate and red wine,” Ignatius offered. “It’s the restaurant’s speciality hence the name; Rós Dearg.”

“It makes sense,” Hespera took an experimental drink. ‘’Tasty,” she said surprised and enamoured at once.

She drowned her glass in delight enjoying the small talk that started once all awkwardness disappeared.

“Oh no,” Death sounded excited. “Mistress, you would better get ready for this.”

“What—“

But Hespera didn’t need to finish her question. Lucretia muttered under her breath as Walburga Black sauntered inside on the arm of a wizard she didn't recognize.

“Heir Osmond Parkinson,” Orion answered her unsaid question.

“But how—when?” Lucretia whispered.

“It doesn’t concern us unless he intends to court her officially. He would have to seek Father’s blessing, then,” Orion supplied dryly.

Hespera’s eyes narrowed on the witch she hated with a passion.

Walburga turned to face her with a disdainful turn of her lips.

She whispered something to her escort and Hespera’s gaze caught and held with the tall wizard.

Something about him felt off. The aura that surrounded him was tainted and extremely dark.

His frigid eyes bored into hers as if looking for something. But he was no match for her mental shields.

“He’s a bold bastard, I have to give him that,” Death muttered before he rebuked his mental attack with vengeance.

Parkinson winced and almost staggered back if not for Walburga’s hold.

The latter glared at her with so much heat, as Hespera grinned ferally, and tried to drag her date toward them but he shook his head and asked the waiter for their table.

“Weird,” Lucretia tilted her head. “Walburga never backs off from a confrontation.”

Hespera looked at Orion who seemed thoughtful.

So, she wasn’t the only one wondering about this eerie coincidence.

‘He’s an old codger but a good servant,’ Tom Marvolo Riddle thought as he looked at Lord Lyndon Parkinson. 

He agreed to help with his latest plan and even brought his son to him.

Osmond Parkinson was an old Housemate and a very ambitious one at that.

He would never refuse the chance to help and secure his position as a part of the Inner Circle.

He was one of the few who received his Mark, the brand of Honour that would set his Death Eaters apart from the other soldiers and minions who would carry his missions.

“Are you certain that Arcturus won’t hurt him?” Lyndon stuttered in fear when Tom skewered him with blood-red eyes.

What the fool didn’t know was that his dear Osmond agreed to let Tom use the Mark as they carried their plan.

Walburga Black—an unpleasant witch with a nasty temper he knew from his Hogwarts years —was an easy prey.

Everyone in school was aware of her obsession with the title of Lady Black. She coveted it relentlessly and would do anything thing to stop Orion from taking another wife.

It was where Osmond came. Her Ex-yearmate agreed to help her stir Orion’s jealousy as they worked to break up the couple while in truth, he spied for him.

The Blacks were a close-knit. It was almost impossible to get inside. But Osmond came from a prestigious Pureblood family that even someone as bigoted as Pollux couldn’t refuse him.

Tom didn’t care either way about all the family drama.

All that mattered was to learn more about Hespera Peverell and her allies’ future plans.

Her stunt with the werewolves hurt his progress and he had no intention to be caught unprepared again.

He was in talks with Lothaire, the Master of the Russian Vampire Coven and failure was not an option.

He ignored his company as he closed his eyes and dug deep into the tether that linked him to every marked Death Eater.

He took over Osmond’s senses and watched as Hespera Peverell noticed Walburga and her escort.

The fetching witch’s eyes narrowed on them and he jumped at the chance of having a read on her.

No one possessed his Legilimency prowess.

He could destroy every shield fools erected around their minds in a pitiful effort to stop him.

He grew impatient as nothing happened.

Nothing.

Her mind was a fortress he couldn’t breach and for the first time since he learnt about his mind’s supremacy, he was refused entrance.

His fingers whitened around his wand as he tried again and again and again to no avail.

To enter her mind was impossible.

He floundered for another solution, some means of countering her, but he could sense her becoming more powerful with every passing second.

What kind of shields were those?

He swore he heard someone cackle madly from the background of the void that greeted him.

A grin crossed Hespera’s Peverell face before she averted her gaze and Tom left Osmund’s mind at once.

“My Lord?” Parkinson gave him a perplexed glance.

“Leave,” he hissed. “We’ll discuss the other matter later.”

The coward didn’t need to be told twice.

Tom stood and prowled restlessly in front of his desk. Many potion bottles exploded but he didn’t pay them heed.

This witch…

How could she be so powerful?

Chapter Text

Orion looked at the open door of Hespera’s private study in Peverell Manor with longing and rubbed his temples.

When Cassiopeia volunteered to help with the school project, he had a bad feeling about it.

Charm and pliancy did not come easily to the most powerful witch House Black had birthed in years. Not with her sharp tongue and guarded nature.

Others would painstakingly acquire these qualities as a necessary instrument to navigate this world and do their job well.

Not Cassiopeia Black, though. Definitely not. 

His father had backed his favourite cousin every step of the way and had steered her through a couple of precarious situations and Orion strongly believed they had not seen the worst of her yet.

However, he couldn’t help but respect her.

She possessed a tenacity few could claim to have.

“I do not care about the Ministry’s laws. They were made by a bunch of dunderheads who seldom left their over-furnished offices,” Cassiopeia shrugged.

His mother smiled, albeit reluctantly. “I agree. But you cannot suggest barging into Muggle holdings and snatching their kids away. It cannot be done.”

“Of course, we can,” Cassiopeia waved Melanie's worries away, as if they were nonsensical. 

Though Hespera did not crack a smile, Orion knew she was amused by the exchange.

“But—“ Lucretia said, lips parted.

Cassiopeia tutted. “That expression never made sense to me. I hate waiting. I hate following rules.”

Finally, Hespera shook her head and levelled a frank stare at Cassiopeia. “We’ve been doing our best for months. The Peverell Manor is almost ready. The Goblins has been exceptionally helpful and the innovations are amazing. Let’s not ruin all the work we put into this with impatience.”

When Cassiopeia opened her mouth, Hespera surprised them all. She lifted her hand, cutting off her Blood-Sister.

You never win an argument against Cassiopeia Black, ever. She was the most stubborn woman in existence.

His fiancée had, once again, accomplished the impossible and he couldn’t deny that he took a rather uncharitable pleasure in this.

“You will have your fun later, you have my word. No one, but you, will deal with the abusive Muggles,” Hespera sounded deucedly earnest that it was all Orion could do not to smirk. 

Nevertheless, the two witches exchanged a glance, tacitly agreeing to discuss the matter in depth later.

He knew Hepsera’s stance considering child abuse. It pained him that he had no way to make the Muggles who wronged her pay for the way they treated her.

“Your wish is my command, Lady Peverell. I will hold you to that,” Cassiopeia ground out.

Melania stifled a smile. “Good. Now, let’s check on the bedrooms. I reckon at first, we will receive a couple of children but I trust that the numbers will double in no time.”

“You are right, Melania,” Hespera rose from her chair and gazed ruefully at the enchanted stained-glass windows that offered a view of the majestic gardens swaddling the main building. “I want to give them the best I can. My family had been taking care of Magical Children for centuries. Regretfully, the Peverells’ numbers dwindled until they were thought extinct. It never occurred to me that this duty—this privilege—will become mine to carry. I will not take it lightly.’’ She shrugged with elaborate casualness, but Orion heard the steel lacing her words.

Lucretia stood abruptly from her half-seated position on the desk and took her into her arms affectionately. “Hespera…you are not alone.”

“I know,” Hespera returned the hug, her voice roughened with emotion.

Before he could move, Cassiopeia lay a hand over his shoulder. “I’ve been talking to some rather helpful souls.” Her grin widened when he glared at her and merely shrugged. “We’ll need to talk later. Let’s not burden Melania with our evil plans.”

Conversation flowed around him again as his mother, Lucretia, Cassiopeia and Hespera discussed what else could be done to make the Peverell Manor more habitable but he responded vaguely while his mind remained fixed on Cassiopeia’s ominous words.

Things were not adding up. Not with Tom Riddle remaining silent after their last brush with his minions. And definitely not with Osmound Parkinson brazenly courting Walburga without Lord Black’s consent as per their traditions.

Cassiopeia had a knack for saying the exact thing that would haunt him for days. It was her gift.

Restless and unable to sleep, Hespera’s eyes wandered to the door.

“Mistress Hespera?” Kreacher popped in startling her.

“Kreacher? Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” she motioned for him to get closer.

He climbed the bed eagerly and lay his head over her lap. “Mistress cannot sleep, so Kreacher cannot sleep too. Master Orion is still working if you need him.”

Her fingertips wandered to the outline of his head. “Really? I wonder why he’s not asleep.”

“Master Orion does not sleep much. He likes working late at night.” Kreacher sounded rather jolly and proud.

Hespera smiled. “I know. He loves his spells so much.”

“Not as much as he loves Mistress Hespera,” was Kreacher’s sly answer. 

Her entire face warmed up as his words sent a prickle of happiness straight through her.

“Maybe…” She bit her lip, weighing her options.

“It would gladden Master Orion to no end to see Mistress before he gets to bed,” Kreacher whispered, raising his head from her lap.

Hespera shook her head and slowly, rose from her reclined position. 

--

Hespera stared into Orion’s shadowed face and smiled.

His hair was mussed as if he had been tugging absently on the front locks. All that—combined with a plenitude of sleek muscles and masculine virility and staggering authority—was astonishingly… appealing.

How she wanted to crawl inside his shirt and huddle against his heartbeat.

He tilted his face upward and smirked. His diamond eyes glinted in the dimly lit room and beckoned her to get closer.

She crawled up on top of his lap and nuzzled his neck like an inquisitive kitten. “Are you done with your new spell?” she whispered against the warm skin of his jaw.

His long fingers investigated the fragile angles of her face and the smiling curve of her lips. “I’m almost there. I’ve been busy with Werewolves, the school and the Wizengamot so I couldn’t have much done. Spell Crafting is my happy place. I do miss working on new chains.”

Charmed by his choice of words, she sighed and stroked the rampant waves of her unbound hair. “I know how hard it is to find your path. I never knew mine before coming here, never thought that I’ll need to. Now, my life has a purpose. Many lives depend on me and the choices I should take thanks to my power.”

Orion kissed her temple. “You don’t have to put the words as if it’s your responsibility alone, as if you need to atone for some terrible mistake, Hespera. The way I see it, you were a victim all along. You are doing great. You are doing well and I know that when we’re done with this, Magical Britain won’t be the same.”

“Do you really believe that?” she drew his head lower, brushing strands of silky hair away from his eyes.

“I’m not a romantic wizard, my love. You knew already that. Unlike the Malfoys, I do not do flattery. I always say the truth,” he bent his head and kissed the side of her neck, and nipped at her ear.

Hespera clung to him. ‘’I thought you liked Abraxas,” she grinned mischievously.

Orion huffed. “You make the most outrageous assumptions,” he murmured. “I can barely stand the peacock.”

Her toes curled when he took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly.

He was so very attentive and she could feel herself drowning in the heat of his body and the crispy, masculine scent that was Orion;  just Orion .

He teased her with maddening delicacy, slowly moving away, depriving her of the warmth of his lips then returning with hungry flocks of his tongue and she groped for his head and held him where she wanted him.

They kissed for minutes, for hours, for days. She did not know and she did not care.

Their magics danced together in absolute harmony and reached upward steadily to a height of impossible rapture.

They were one. One soul divided between two bodies.

She swore she heard a growl in her head. The sound reminded her of a ferocious animal;  the Grim.

She brushed the absurd thought away.

She was barely keeping up with Death. To have another voice inside her head would drive her to distraction.

“Mistress ,” Death sighed in mock exasperation. “As much as I hate to intrude and interrupt your strange human instinctive needs, wake up, please. You are about to have a visitor. ”

If one could die of mortification, Hespera would have expired on the spot.

The nerve of the….

Human instinctive needs! How dare he!

She heard an amused chuckle. “Come now, Hespera. I am as old as time. Some would say I am rather an expert in human nature. Even though I do not feel basic emotions, I reckon that Mortals need this connection.”

“What I do not need is to have the talk with you,” she gritted through their shared link.

Death snorted. “Fine. Your loss. I am proficient in the matters of love. The things I have witnessed….Oh my! He is here.”

Hespera and Orion went still at the same moment, caught together in a half-embrace.

Disoriented, they sensed the disturbance in the air.

The wards were breached but…

“An intruder. A very skilful one,” Orion hissed as he jumped to his feet; wand at the ready.

“Please, do carry on, I do not mind. As a matter of fact, I am an unabashed voyeur.” A smooth, slightly accented voice dripped with amusement.

“Show yourself or Merlin help me,” Orion demanded.

“Merlin? I knew that clumsy, bright-eyed lad. He was too kind for my tastes but I do respect his power. I am not the Merlin you are referring to,’’ the intruder intoned from the shadowed corner. “Although to you, wizard, I might be. I am something out of the realm of your expertise, Soul of the Grim. By the Gods, I can be your worst nightmare or your…guide.”

Hespera felt the moment Orion stood as stiff as a boulder of ice.

The intruder took a step forward and she couldn’t hold back her slight gasp.

The Creature’s skin—because no way was he human—was pale like the moon, stark against the black of his shirt and his open, immaculate robes. His hair was pale blond, almost white and his features were so chiselled and perfect, it hurt to look at him.

Those eyes though…

They were red like freshly spilt blood.

“Count Sanguini…” Hespera whispered, remembering the Romanian Coven Master she met in her sixth year. She recalled how his blue-grey eyes shifted to red when Slughorn introduced her to the elusive Vampire.

The stranger quirked a pale brow as if amazed by her temerity. “Vlad Sanguini Drăculea can never measure up to me. Not in his wildest dreams. He is already a joke among humans,” she noticed how disgust dripped from every syllable when he said the word ‘human’. As if he considered the species lesser.

“Wouldn’t it be polite if you introduced yourself first?” Hespera narrowed her eyes at the smirking vampire.

“With pleasure, Lady Peverell. I can almost understand my friend’s fascination with you.”

Orion’s eyes darkened and he drew her closer to his side.

The Vampire’s smile widened, showing two pointed fangs. “I am King Lothaire, Russia’s Coven Master, The Enemy of The Old and the most fearsome Vampire you could ever meet.”

Hespera huffed. “Haven’t you forgotten something else, King Lothaire?”

She suspected she was a novelty to him. His blood-red lips lifted in a smug expression when she added. “Aren’t you the vainest Vampire, as well?”

“Hespera…” Orion sighed.

“Yes, show him, Mistress. This bastard has been giving me extra work for centuries. He is restless. I cannot find enough minions to take care of the bodies he leaves in his wake,” Death cheered from the safety of her abused mind.

Lothaire’s red eyes glowed with knowledge. “So, the rumours are true. The Mistress of Death appeared at last.”

“And what it is to you, Vampire?’’ Hespera taunted mercilessly. “If you are seeking my help, I have to admit that your manners are rather lacking.”

Lothaire gave a humourless laugh. “You have to blame it on presumptuous Wixen, Mistress of Death. When they crafted their wards, they forget that they are useless against us. We teleport. We do not need their permission to barge in. But we are mere Creatures, are we not?”

Orion cursed under his breath and Hespera couldn’t blame him.

How could Wixen overlook this possibility, for eons?

Creatures were powerful in their own right, their gifts and strengths were unknown to her kind.

“Why are you here, Coven Master?” Orion asked politely, though she heard his wariness.

Lothaire dragged his gaze to his fingernails. “Nothing in particular. While I was in Magical Britain for business, I decided to pass by. I am curious by nature.”

Orion and Hespera exchanged a look. 

“Fine,” he pursued his lips in an appraising way as if considering the pros and cons of answering the question. “The Black Necromancer talked to my Mother’s soul. I am a Memory Harvester, I speak to people I drank from in my sleep. My last talk with Mother stirred up this impromptu visit.”

“And?” Hespera cocked a brow.

His lips curled in a feral smile and his razor-sharp fangs glinted in the dark room. '‘You passed the test, Mistress of Death.”

For a dizzying amount of reasons, Tom Marvolo Riddle hated Creatures.

They were filthy, depended too much for his liking on their instinct and were awfully loyal to their kin.

Well, all Creatures except for the Vampire reclining languidly on his chair like he owned the place.

“When are you going to send for some of your Vampires to help with the raids I planned?” He asked.

Lothaire glanced down at him.

Even though they were both seated, the Coven Master towered over him with his unnatural height. “Careful, Tom Marvolo Riddle. You do not talk to me this way. If a Vampire can be measured by the calibre of his foes, then consider me fearsome. If by the number? Then I have no equal. You do not want to insult me. Ever.”

Tom bit down the retort that wanted to slip from his tightly sealed lips. 

Lothaire’s grin widened. “You are already losing it, are you not? It is not easy to butcher one’s soul. Your mind and magic will suffer the consequences. In a few years, you will not be able to control yourself. You will become a rabid dog, a rogue Creature not unlike the ones you seem to loathe.”

Tom glared at his guest.

'You need him', he reminded himself. 'You need to unleash the beast and show those who mocked you what kind of allies you have. You need to make them tremble in fear.'

As if reading his mind—which was a disturbing possibility—Lothaire tsked. “I love nothing more than the elegance of streets filled with drained corpses, piled high with flesh trophies and eyes always flared in fear. I do it for sport, though, wizard. I do not need you. You need me. I loathe Wixen for they never learned to respect their betters, but I am not stupid. Remember why I was called The Enemy of The Old. You do not make the rules, I do make them. You will have my help, when and if I want, that is. Patience is a virtue you should learn if you plan to embrace immortality.”

Tom crumpled the papers he’s been drawing for weeks in his hand.

As of late, nothing turned out as he wished. He was warned against seeking the Russian Coven Master but the rumours surrounding him spurned his final decision.

The Vampire was unstable, awfully unpredictable and sharp. 

He wondered if he made a grave mistake when he thought that Lothaire’s agenda against Wixen would help his cause.

The insolent wink the pale bloodsucker sent his way did not help at all.

Chapter Text

Rays of light ripped through the fabric of the night and jerked Orion from his slumber.

The truth was he spent the better half of the night thrashing and cursing under his breath. 

His Grim continued his futile struggle to break free, roaring silently in his mind and viciously, clawing at his skin.

The damned Vampire!

Annoyance clouded his brain at the revelation that Wixen, in their ignorance, had overseen a glaring danger.

Creatures.

Their power was unknown to them and the few books they had were written by narrow-minded, biased wizards who knew nothing.

No good came from these books and no good came from ignorance.

He wondered what would his life have been like hadn’t he met Hespera. He could not fathom that prospect again. The price House Black—and Magical Britain—would have paid would have been exorbitant.

Dragging his aching limbs up, Orion ran a frustrated hand through his dishevelled dark locks and sighed. He felt bone-tired and achingly sore in every joint.

His head snapped up, swift and wolflike and he shot upright when the fireplace flared.

At once, he flicked his wand out, a deadly curse at the tip of his tongue.

“Good Morni—‘’ Alphard blanched when his eyes opened wide, revealing his shock as they zeroed on the wand aiming at his chest. “Orion?” he stammered, tripped and almost fell over something on the floor.

“No questions,” Orion ordered sternly. “Sit.”

Alphard reclined on the bed and huffed, his mouth quirking in an expression of irony. “That’s not the way to greet your favourite cousin. What’s the matter, Ori? Did you get into a fight with the enchanting Lady Peverell?”

Orion frowned and summoned a fresh shirt from his closet. “I wish it was that simple.’’

Alphard’s jovial smile faded. “Did something bad happen?”

Orion fought the unaccountable need to growl. “The unbreakable Black wards were broken last evening.”

“What!” Alphard’s head jerked and he stiffened.

“Like I said. Alph, you don’t know half of it. We have been blinded by our arrogance and our faith in our wands that we forget there are Creatures out there lurking in the shadows; Creatures we know essentially nothing about.“ Orion took a deep breath, brushed a staggering tendril of hair out of his eyes and looked at his cousin expectantly.

What he did not expect was for Alphard to blink twice before he burst out laughing. “Ori, Please don’t tell me that Alpha Greyback decided to challenge you for Hespera’s favour.”

Orion kept his face composed and his voice casual when he drawled. “Were you aware that I finished working on my last Hex yesterday and I find myself in a desperate need of a testing subject. Are you perchance volunteering, Alph?”

Alphard’s eyes danced with merriment as he lifted his arms in surrender. “I’m no match for your curses, cousin. I'm a simple Potions Apprentice.”

Orion huffed and headed toward the bathroom, knowing that Alphard wouldn’t leave until he satisfied his curiosity. Despite how carefree and innocent he appeared to the unsuspecting witch and wizard, his cousin was a snake through and through.

Knowledge was power; it was a lesson every Black and every Slytherin learned since day one.

After taking care of his morning ablutions, he changed into fresh clothes, took a seat across from his cousin and sank into its thick brocade cushion.

“Vampires can teleport inside warded houses,” he threw out without preamble taking sick pleasure in the way Alphard’s eyes become as large as two Galleons.

“What?”

He nodded languidly. “They can. Yesterday, I’ve been visited by the Russian Coven Master; a seemingly ruthless Vampire going by the name of Lothaire.”

“Merlin’s Mercy, were you hurt?” Alphard’s worried eyes raked over his body.

“No and nor was Hespera. It was a friendly visit. But it got me thinking about fortifying the wards.”

“Hespera?” Alphard snickered unabashed. “What was she doing here late at night? I am certain Aunt Melania wouldn’t be thrilled by this knowledge.”

Orion cocked a challenging brow and Alphard’s shoulders slumped. He scratched his chin, seeming deep in thought. “Does the Vampire’s visit have anything to do with the Werewolves? We knew they are eternal enemies. Or….Was he here for Hespera; the revered Lady Peverell?”

Truer words were never said. Orion stretched his long legs out in front of him, clasped his hands together over his chest and bowed his head with genuine respect and affection.

To underestimate the Potion genius was laughable. Of course, Alphard would put two and two together. He wanted to spare him as much as he could from the ugliness he and Hespera planned to dispose of, but he knew he needed his cousin—his brother by his side.

“You’re right. Creatures of the night seem to be intrigued by Hespera and the myths that surround House Peverell. But that’s not all.”

Alphard tossed him a stealthy smirk and seated himself more comfortably over the bed. “I suspected as much the moment you announced your betrothal unexpectedly. I’m not going to demand answers. I will wait until you are ready to share whatever you are hiding from me. But, I’ll let you know that I am aware of what has been brewing in the darkness for years. I know about the Pureblood Movement and my father’s involvement. I know that you and Hespera are planning to fight this bigoted movement. I want to help. I might be a Potioneer but I know a thing or two about disposing of potential threats.”

Orion’s lips curled in a faint smile. “You’re already helping, Alph. You prevented the Werewolves from siding with our enemy and offered them a new life. I am happy I have you. Trustworthy friends are hard to come by.”

“Are you going soft on me, Ori?” Alphard raised a dark eyebrow. “Of course, I’ll have your back. Always. Now, let’s get back to the matter at hand. The wards... Tell me how I can help. And, do you plan to inform your father about the incident?”

Orion sighed. “Tomorrow is the Summer Solstice. I don’t want to ruin the celebrations.”

“You’re right. Let’s enjoy tomorrow and then start thinking about how to improve the wards. Meanwhile, how is it going with the Grim? I believe he’s not happy,” Alphard spoke gently, letting his concern for his favoured cousin be heard.

“You have no idea, Alph,” Orion grumbled. “By the way, what prompted this unannounced visit?”

Alphard’s grin widened. ‘’You hadn’t been to the Apothecary for a while so I reckoned I’d share the joyous news with you. Did you know that Uncle Regulus accepted another Apprentice this week? It’s a first considering how many Potioneers applied for the privilege. She’s a very gifted Apprentice. I’m glad I have company.”

Orion’s grin dripped with smugness. He threw his cousin a pointed look. “I’ve never heard you compliment a witch so ardently before. So, who is this most beguiling Potioneer?”

Alphard spluttered and a wash of pink covered his chiselled cheekbones. “Heiress Eileen Prince.”

Hespera was startled when Lucretia came barreling up the stairs and called her name.

She slowed when she saw what she was holding over her arms. 

Whatever she wanted to ask drifted away as she gazed at the robes with wide eyes.

“This is…” she whispered.

“Your attire for the night. It’s your first Litha with us. You have to look your best,” Lucretia grinned.

Hespera’s expression of numb wonder brightened. “But this is so much. I can buy my own clothes.”

“And so can we. We are the Blacks, dear sister. Anyway, this is a gift sent by Charis. She misses your visits.”

Hespera bit her lower lip. “I know. It has been a while. Will she be here tonight?”

“It depends. The Crouchs love their lavish celebrations,” Lucretia shook her head. “Ignatius will come tonight. He intends to talk to Father. I’ll need your support.”

Hespera’s eyes lit up. “You have it. I’m certain that Arcturus won’t oppose to this proposal as long as he knows you fancy Ignatius. He’s a decent wizard and an honourable man.”

“Yes, he is.” Lucretia blushed and soft emotion flashed through her eyes as if the words had pricked at some pleasant memory.

Hespera’s thoughts turned to the wizard who would be her husband and hope assailed her as memories rushed through her.

She had never dreamt she would have such a devoted man, just for her.

She had never refused love. It was simply forbidden to her. Every time she had started dreaming about a better future, she had been punished for it. Fate seemed to despise her with a passionate zeal. She had never had a protector or a confidant until she crossed paths with Orion Black.

Unwittingly, she smiled at the memory of what transpired two nights ago. Orion’s Grim was a passionate, excruciatingly jealous fellow and she loved every moment.

“ Are you simpering over your Guardian Grim, Mistress ,” Death prompted uninvited.

“Are you invading my thoughts without my permission again, Death?” she retorted heatedly.

“As if I need one. You and I are one and the same.”

“Really? Why am I not allowed to your mind, then?” she drawled.

Death had the audacity to chuckle. “Oh, my sweet Mistress. You would not stand to be there even for a second. It is a very dark place. I’m barely handling the strain of the wailing souls and the ungrateful minions I have been saddled with.”

Hespera shuddered and swiftly, eased the disturbing thought from her mind. “Forget I asked that.”

--

Hespera complied with a daze as Orion clasped her hand firmly in his and led her from the ballroom toward the gardens.

They strode toward the bonfire and Hespera shuddered at the feeling of the pure magic filling the air.

The Summer Solstice celebrations were interwoven with magic and the deep belief that Wixen should always stay true to their magic and honour their gift.

It was a time believed to heighten their powers. Hespera could sense the Dark Magic simmering under her skin.

Oak trees cast their shadows over the congregating members of House Black. The trees were seen as a doorway to both the mystical realms and the new, darker cycle of the year.

Mistletoes, believed to have healing and fertility powers, dangled from the branches and harnessed the soul of the trees.

She could feel Walburga’s eyes on her back, but she decided to ignore the infuriating witch for the night.

Arcturus cut a branch from the Beech tree that brightened the garden with its fresh lime green leaves. The wood symbolized ancient wisdom and was used to feed Litha’s bonfire.

Cassiopeia brought shimmering leaves of Aspen—believed to carry the messages from the Realm of the Living to the Underworld—and offered every witch a handful to conjure a crown.

Hespera flicked the Elder Wand and fashioned a simple head wreath. Orion adjusted it over her head and took her hand in his again.

Melania started chanting in the Forgotten Language and everyone listened to the melodious tones that fostered such a beautiful sense of peacefulness and gratitude.

Tally and Kreacher did a great job with the food. Baskets of apples, grapes and freshly baked bread filled the tables. Decanters of Elven Wine looked inviting.

Hespera lifted her eyes to the dark, exotic sky and sighed with elation.

“Do you miss the moon, Lady Peverell?” A deep voice intoned and her eyes widened.

“Alpha Greyback…”

Alpha Fenrir Greyback, flanked by Regulus Black and Beta Caelan MacGriogai, sauntered her way.

“I came here to wish you and yours a happy Summer Solstice. You have done so much for me and my pack. So, Happy Litha. Let every dawn be to you as the beginning of life, and every setting sun be to you as its close.”

“A single sunbeam is enough to drive away many shadows. Happy Litha, Lady Peverell,” Caelan bowed his head.

Regulus smirked. “I invited Alpha Greyback to my humble abode to discuss business transactions that might benefit the Pack. I messaged other Potion Masters from all over Europe and informed them about the exotic and exceedingly rare plants they have in Luna Silva Forest. Of course, they are interested in acquiring these ingredients for their potions.”

“And I am forever in your debt, Master Black,” Fenrir clamped his chest with his fist.

“Do not mention that, Alpha. You’ve been too good to me. I thank you for the last batch of Hyoscyamus Niger you sent,” Regulus shrugged.

“We spent the day tending business matters with Master Black,” Caelan smiled. “Alpha Greyback wanted to send his wishes personally before we go back home and celebrate with the Pack.”

Orion strove for a casual tone. “House Black thanks you for the kind gesture, Alpha Greyback. Would you like to meet my father?”

“Arcturus was fascinated by the tales we reported from our visit to Luna Silva Forest. He was looking forward to meeting you in person,” Regulus added.

“It would be an honour to meet the renowned Lord Black. I hadn’t visited London for thirteen years. It feels good to get acquainted with the population of Magical Britain again,” Fenrir lifted his golden eyes to her and the curl of his lips assured her there was a reason for his words.

Orion’s smile was stiff. “Then please, do follow me.”

Fenrir chuckled and whispered something to his Beta.

When he passed her, he murmured under his breath. “Have you met the bloodsucker? Be careful. Riddle is plotting something big.”

Chapter Text

The soft breeze carried the scent of herbs and the promise of perfectly brewed potions.

Hespera almost reached for the door handle before she closed her eyes and paused in her steps.

It went without saying that Regulus was aware of her presence by now. Even though he was a Potion Master, he was as attuned to Auras as Arcturus—if not more.

Orion ran a soothing hand down her back.

When she looked at him, his kind smile emblazoned her soul. He had a way of making her feel like all his world gravitated around her; like she was all that mattered to him.

“I understand if you are uncomfortable. I just wanted to tease Alphard a bit and check on Uncle Regulus. We can leave and—‘’

She drew strength from his smile and shook her head. “No. I want to meet her. Moreover, how can I turn down a chance at making Alphard flustered? He makes it too easy to embarrass him.”

“You are a Potter indeed, even if you are going by another name now,” Orion noted with an amused thread woven into his voice. “I see Fleamont and Charlus’ mischief in you.”

Hespera felt a strange tightness in her chest.

Somehow, she became used to her new title as Lady Peverell she barely remembered she was a Potter. Hespera Potter.

“But I shouldn’t be surprised considering you are a Potter. No matter what name you carry, your soul is the same,” Orion swept his finger over her cheek as if he sensed her unshed tears; the ones she was keeping at bay by the sheer force of her will.

Hearing his words, all her confusion went away at once, the pieces of her life fit together again and she felt more cheerful than she was a moment ago.

“I don’t know why the prospect of meeting Snape’s mother made me so emotional,” she confided to him. “But I wonder, how do you always know what to say to make me feel better?”

He moved a step closer to her and leaned as if he was about to impart a grave secret. “Maybe because I love and I hate nothing more than to see you distraught.”

He ducked to press a kiss to her hair, his gaze warm upon her like sunshine.

It seemed such a magical moment until the door cracked open and Regulus looked at them with amusement. “Would you get inside, already? You can finish this delightful exchange later, in the seclusion of Orion’s room.”

Hespera felt herself blush at his words. She could not bring her gaze to look at him. “Good morning, Uncle Regulus.”

“Good morning, dearest,” he kissed her cheek. “Come, follow me,” 

Orion muttered under his breath. “My family is my worst enemy.” He reached out and took her hand in his, ignoring the onlookers passing by.

‘’It has been a while since you visited your favourite uncle’s apothecary,” Regulus chided playfully. 

“You are my only uncle,” Orion cocked a perfect brow up and replied nonchalantly. “And you were home three nights ago.”

Regulus chuckled and went back to his worktable, studying some strange roots.

“We’re not interrupting, are we?” she cleared her throat.

“You are welcome to my humble apothecary, niece,” Regulus lifted his head gifting her with a genuine smile. 

She grinned and turned her head, studying the neatly arranged bottles.

Her eyes caught the sight of a slender woman looking a book. So intent she was on her task, she didn’t seem to notice their presence.

“I trust that Alphard told you about my new Apprentice, Eileen Prince. Lord Reginald Prince and his wife; Lady Muirrean are previous housemates. They asked me to consider taking their daughter under my wing. Of course, I had to test her talent beforehand. I would never lose my precious time on dunderheads.” Regulus said matter of fact and she barely kept a straight face. 

“I was blown away by her raw talent. She’s a natural. I predict that with my guidance, she will outshine every Prince that preceded her,” Regulus imparted, his gaze going to his Apprentice. “It’s good to give Alphard some competition, as well. He was never challenged before.”

Orion snorted. “I’m certain he’s enjoying this challenge, Uncle. How kind of you to look after him.”

There was a mischievous gleam in Regulus’ grey eyes when he smirked. “Why, I am always happy to provide my nephews with whatever they need. Eileen, would you come here, please? I want you to meet Heir Black and his fiancée.”

Eileen stepped away from the shelf and walked toward them with the grace and elegance of a queen. Her dark robes billowed behind her in an excruciatingly familiar way.

She smiled when their eyes met, but it was reserved. Hespera studied her face and she was unsettled by how much she resembled her son—minus the crooked nose and the perpetual frown.

She had the same black hair, but it was arranged in an elegant chignon. Her eyes were obsidian and shining with intelligence. Her composure was regal and demanded respect. It spoke of her high status and confidence.

For a moment, she wondered how could this woman marry a muggle and a drunkard at that in Hespera’s previous life. It seemed so unlikely.

She curtsied lithely. “Lady Peverell, Heir Black.”

“Heiress Prince,” Orion nodded. “You were two years my junior in Hogwarts if I am not mistaken.”

“You are right,” she lifted her head and met their gaze as if she was trying to figure something out about them. “Alphard told me a lot about you and your fiancée, Lady Peverell.”

Hespera looked with a mournful lament at the eyes of her previous nemesis; the man who found no wrong in bullying her.

However, she glimpsed no malice in Eileen’s soulful eyes. Just the determination of a witch who knew what she wanted.

“Merry meet, Heiress Prince,” Hespera greeted. “I trust you’re enjoying your Apprenticeship.”

“I am,” Eileen’s smile widened. “It’s an honour to be accepted by Master Black.”

“Nonsense, Eileen. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so good,” Regulus pointed out unashamedly.

Eileen eyed him carefully, then bowed her head. “You are so kind, Master Black.”

Regulus winked and went back to his new potion.

“Where’s Alphard?” Orion asked.

Caught unprepared, heat rushed to Eileen’s cheeks. “He’s running some errands. We need more ingredients for some commissions.”

“He’s a true gentleman,” Regulus mumbled under his breath while stirring the fire under a large cauldron, “he refused to let Eileen walk in the heat. I raised him right. Thank Merlin I saved him before Pollux ruined his character.”

“So,” Hespera said. “Were you always interested in potions?”

Eileen’s eyes flowed over the numerous bottles occupying the shelves. “House Prince had been known for birthing outstanding Potioneers for centuries. It’s our gift. Every member of my family aspires to become a Potion Master or Mistress. No one values the noble art of brewing more than a Prince.” Eileen answered in a soft voice, pride seeping from every syllable.

Alphard chose that moment to open the door and join them. “Orion, Hespera.”

Hespera’s grin was blinding. “Alphard.”

His eyes widened when Orion smirked. “Is—Why do I feel cornered all of a sudden?’’

Orion shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, cousin.”

“Uncle Regulus introduced me to Eileen,” Hespera angled her head as she looked at him. 

“Miss Eileen is a gifted potioneer. We are lucky to have her here,” Alphard’s eyes went instinctively to his fellow Apprentice. 

When he became acutely aware of his burst, he stammered and pretended to arrange the ingredients he brought. “I—Do you need some help, Uncle Regulus?”

Regulus looked at him and the poor wizard swallowed. “All of a sudden, I find myself in a deer need of your assistance, my dear Apprentice. Come here.”

“Yes,” Alphard sounded relieved as he practically ran to join his uncle.

“I’m sorry for my cousin’s lack of manners, Heiress Prince,” Orion sighed.

Eileen’s eyes gleamed as she followed Alphard’s retreat. “He’s very….entertaining. And please, do call me Eileen. Both of you.”

“Eileen, you may use my first name,” Hespera nodded, “I believe we’ll meet again. Soon.”

Who would have expected Snape’s mother to be such an interesting witch?

He was nothing but a bitter man who never found it in his heart to forgive James Potter’s misdeeds. He might have helped save her life in the end but she could never forgive his bullying.

She hoped that the Severus of her era would grow up to become an open-minded, kind wizard.

“He will,” Death drawled. "Considering your talent with matchmaking, he will.”

“I’m not a matchmaker,” Hespera huffed in indignation.

“Yes, you are,” Death chuckled. “You can not take the Saviour from you no matter how much you try. You want everyone to be happy, to have a future. That’s why you are my Chosen. No soul is purer than yours.”

“I’m not a saint,” she mumbled petulantly.

“You are not. A saint wouldn’t slip into an unmarried wizard's rooms after midnight unchaperoned. They would not relish in their betrothed’s jealousy either. You love the thrill of the forbidden, Mistress and I do applaud and encourage your audacity,” Death purred. “Reading your bold thoughts is always a good break from my minions’ paltriness.”

“I hate you,” Hespera blushed.

“Hespera?” Orion sounded startled. “You look flushed.”

She cursed under her breath when Death’s amused giggles filled her head.

“Is this true?” Arcturus asked.

But the words had already been spoken.

“Yes,” Orion looked from his father to Hespera, his jaw set, a murderous glint in his eyes. “Vampires and probably most Creatures can break the wards.”

Orion saw the trepidation in his father’s face before it disappeared at once and was replaced by….fascination.

“How unexpected,” Arcturus Black’s lips twitched. “We’ve been careless, son. It’s almost painful how ignorant we are. This is unacceptable.”

“It is,” Orion gritted and faced his father fully. “We have to fortify the wards and learn more about Creatures’ magic and abilities.”

“How?” Arcturus made a temple of his fingers, seeming deep in thought. “No Vampire would cooperate, not after the way we treated them for centuries.”

Orion closed his eyes. The Grim growled as soon as he remembered Lothaire’s swagger and infuriating smirk. “Yes, you are right.”

“Lothaire will visit again. Soon,” Hespera blurted suddenly.

‘’What,” he wasn’t sure he could stand another visit from the blond bloodsucker. A ribbon of anger drifted down his back at the mere mention of his name.

“He will,” she sounded careless as she explained. “He’s plotting something. Tom Riddle contacted him, I’m certain. But he doesn’t have his allegiance yet. He’d playing a game. He won’t take the weak side.”

“Do you believe Tom Riddle to be weak?” Arcturus said quietly.

“He’s not weak,” Hespera’s gaze drifted to the Black Family Tree. “He’s a master manipulator. If we don’t stop his movement soon, he’ll ruin many families and destroy countless lives. But we have to tread with caution.”

Arcturus’ eyes went to him again. “Pollux is being careless, spending too much time with Riddle and his ilk. I’m thinking of summoning him soon. I can always banish him from the family. It seems to mean so little to him.”

“Father, are you sure?” Orion couldn’t hide his surprise.

To banish a member from an Ancient Family was the most severe punishment a wizard or a witch could be dealt. The shame that would ensue would be inconceivable.

For a member of House Black, the consequences were direr. The banished member could succumb to the Black Madness and lose his mind and his soul.

“I am,” Arcturus’ voice carried the gravity of his decision. “We are on the verge of a political war, House Black can’t be divided. We have to cut ties with the rotten branches before it is too late. Prejudice and ignorance blinded many of us for years. We have to reevaluate whatever we’ve been taught with an open mind.”

Hespera held his hand and Orion clung to it. “What are you planning, Father?”

“The next Wizengamot session is approaching. My talk with Alpha Greyback was most enlightening. As a matter of fact, I’m eager now to meet this Coven Master. Creatures are so interesting.”

Hespera snorted when his eyes widened. “Surely, you’re not planning an alliance with them.”

Arcturus’ smirk was feral and quite disturbing. “Orion, can’t you see how much your uncle’s business flourished after the trade he started with the Greyback Pack?”

Orion did not trust himself to answer.

His father’s mind worked in the most unexpected ways.

Chapter Text

‘’When are we going to start bringing kids to the school? I can’t wait to visit their previous guardians and see for myself if they’ve been treating them right,” Cassiopeia drawled innocently.

Melania looked stricken at her question. She did her best to look balky, but Hespera knew how caring her future mother-in-law was.

Despite her kind nature, Melania would not hesitate to fight for a child and use force if need be.

Lycoris’ eyes widened with comprehension and she enfolded Cassiopeia into a loose hug. “Can I join you? I hadn’t been in the Muggle part of London for a while,” Lycoris began. “I give you my word I will behave.”

“Please,” Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. “You can fool sweet Melania over there. I know you so well.”

“Really? I thought you did not care,” Lycoris exclaimed, an incredulous smile mixed with amusement sweeping across her face. 

Flinging the book in her hand aside, Cassiopeia stalked over to the windows. “Emotions are beneath me. However, gathering information about friends and foes alike is a passion of mine.”

“I am your cousin” Lycoris gasped in mock surprise.

“It remains debatable,” Cassiopeia muttered under her breath.

A brief smile shot in her sharp eyes when Hespera threw her an exasperated look.

The Necromancer was incorrigible. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but be fond of her sister.

“Arcturus has been quiet for a while,” Melania noted. “I don’t know what he’s been plotting.”

“You know Father. He doesn’t share his plans often,” Lucretia snorted, sipping the Da-Hong Pa tea Cassiopeia brought from her last trip to Wuyi Mountains. A smile lifted her lips when Tally brought her favourite Lemonade Scones. 

“I know. But…something seems to be bothering him.”

Hespera was not used to gossip and afternoon tea.

She had other matters to take care of in her previous life and Aunt Petunia never allowed her to enjoy the delicacies she spent hours baking and decorating.

“There’s no need for you to worry, Melania,” she tried to assuage the older witch’s fears. “Surely, you know of the strain in his relationship with Pollux. Arcturus wants to put an end to it.”

“Pollux is a traitor and a disgrace to House of Black,” Cassiopeia answered, her voice harsh with anger.

“I’m sorry for what you had to go through,” Hespera started.

“It was Father’s doing. He raised him to become the cruel, greedy bastard he is now,” Cassiopeia’s voice was edged with barely suppressed fury. “He believes he is entitled to more. The fool thinks he is better than me and Dorea.” A chuckle left her throat. “Can you imagine that? He is nothing without the shady connections he forged with wizards with questionable character and background.”

“And then look at his children. I’m glad that Regulus managed to save poor Alphard before it was too late,” Lycoris scoffed.

Melania straightened, her eyes fasted upon her. “I know that my husband includes you in the meetings he carries with Orion. Do you think he is planning to do what I think it is?”

As if the word was too unspeakable to voice, she formed the word ‘banish’ with her pale lips.

Humming gaily, Arcturus strode in, hands clasped behind his back and gaze going over the witches of his house.

“Can I join the gossip session?” he asked playfully.

“Only if you agree to divulge a secret or two,” Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes on her favourite cousin.

“Look who’s asking,” he grinned ferally. “I find myself seized by second thoughts about the wisdom of joining you, my dear ladies. My secrets tend to be of great value and greater danger.”

“As if you would ever share,” Lycoris regarded her brother through eyes so knowing.

“We will be entertaining a guest this afternoon,” he ignored his sister’s jab. 

“Who is it, Father?” Ever so impatient, Lucretia blurted.

“Why, my dear Pollux of course,” his gaze went to her. “Do not worry about unsavoury surprises, he shall come alone.”

Hespera wasn’t worried about another skirmish with Walburga. The glint in Arcturus’ eyes worried her, though.

When she travelled to this world, she vowed to save House Black from ruination and pay homage to her godfather’s memory.

However, things were not going as planned.

She could not fathom the consequences of banishing Pollux from the family.

She knew so well how Cygnus and Walburga would react and she did not want another circle of hate and revenge to start.

“I believe there is another option,” Death whispered, excited.

“I’m not killing him if that’s what you are insinuating,” she hissed.

“You are no fun, Mistress. I can use him properly. For eternity,” the Deity whined like a petulant child.

“Don’t you have enough minions as it is?”

“Another wrongdoer would never hurt my army of incompetent minions. Maybe….”

Hespera sighed tiredly.

Who would have thought that Death was such a cruel slave-driver?

Orion fumbled for a way to find the right combination of Runes.

“If only—‘’ He groaned exasperated with yet another failure.

He was a Spell-Crafter. Working on the wards was not his field of expertise.

However, he could not trust a stranger with what he had in mind.

“Maybe I should have paid more attention to Ancient Runes and Arithmancy,” he muttered under his breath.

The unmistakable smell of Hespera’s favourite perfume hit his nostrils before he sensed her Aura nearby.

He had noticed with no small amount of glee how his sense seemed to become sharper. It was as if his human side was burrowing the Grim’s gifts whenever it suited its fancy.

He could not wait for both sides to merge.

Only then, could he make the shift smoothly and become one with the creature of myths.

With a careless wave of his hand, he opened the door to his office.

His gaze fastened upon the small figure and he knew instinctively that something worried her.

She stayed where she stood, at the door, remorse and anguish filling her beautiful eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” he stood slowly.

Panic collided with her sorrow. Ever so attuned to her feelings and mood swings, he sensed both as if they were his own.

“Orion.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Do not blame yourself. You helped expose the traitor and save House Black.”

She clutched his arm and his muscles quivered under her touch.

His voice was a concerned whisper as he pulled her to him and dragged tender kisses over her cheeks. “Let’s keep moving forward. Please, unburden your heart from the past. At times, I feel you are still stuck there.”

He wasn’t sorry he said the words that kept struggling to leave his mouth.

Greedily, he wanted to have Hespera all to himself. 

All of her and nothing less.

She grasped the edges of his shirt and pulled him against her, pressing her chest to his. His heart beat next to hers, to the same frenetic rhythm.

“You are right.” Her smile was so sad, so hollow. “At times, I seem to forget that I have a new life now. I have you and our family.”

He grasped the back of her head and crushed her mouth to his, and drove out anger, pride, and thought in that long, devouring kiss.

His voice, ragging with longing, he whispered against her swollen lips. “I’m sorry. However, I could not help but notice how stressed you've been these past days.”

Her cheek pressed against his chest. “Weird, isn’t it? Why do I care about a vile man like Pollux. He is the reason you—‘’ she bit her lower lip.

He swept a finger over her hot cheek. “It’s fine. I do not mind being reminded of what I saw in your memories.”

“Is there no other way?” she shifted upward and buried her face in the curve of his neck. She held on tightly and he savoured her unique scent.

Tenderness bubbled inside him, warm and tingling and his heart opened to welcome it.

He gingerly loosened his tight grasp and smiled down at her.

“What are you up to? I haven’t seen you all day.”

Orion sighed and looked at swiftly at the books he’d been skimming through. “I am looking for ways to fortify the wards. I’m well-versed in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. I thought it would be easy, yet I cannot create the right combination.”

Hespera’s glittering eyes crinkled at the sides. Strangely, the amused look reminded him of Fleamont and Charlus.

“At least we weren’t interrupted a moment ago. Do you think Lothaire is going to visit soon?”

“You know he will come back. I recognize his type. He is an avid player and a master manipulator,” he growled. 

Hespera threw her head back and laughed.

Despite his frustration at the mere mention of the bloodsucker’s name, his gaze softened.

The delightful sound managed to erode his intention to complain and curse the brute’s name.

She sounded in a jocular mood so he could not complain.

“Let’s go down,” he hated to interrupt the merry moment he shared with his fiancée but he could not ignore his responsibilities as Heir Black and his father’s sole confidant.

Maintaining his hold on her hand, he steered her toward the door.

She nodded, her eyes resolved and intent.

Tom Riddle stood up abruptly and swung around to face the cowering man.

He knew that Pollux Black's instincts were telling him to run and flee his rage, but he could never be quick enough.

No one escaped Lord Voldemort’s retribution unscathed.

“You failed,” he bit out savagely; his red eyes alive with rage. “A Mountain Troll should have more wits and more courage than you.” Terror was etched on Pollux's pale face, his eyes widened comically, his grip seemingly painful on his wand. 

“I warned you,” Tom continued unconcerned. “Arcturus is not one to fool so easily. Such an opportunity wouldn’t come twice. You should have succeeded in making your daughter the next Lady Black. We would have gained control over all the Black vaults. Moreover, you drew attention to yourself and endangered our cause. We are not ready yet to fight Arcturus and his allies.” 

Pollux’s eyes narrowed with unfiltered hate.

It dawned on Tom that the wizard's allegiance was doubtlessly invigorated by the jealousy he felt toward Arcturus Black.

Tom had fanned the flames of that soul-deep hate for months.

From the moment Walburga had arranged the first meeting between him and Pollux, he knew that a golden opportunity had arrived.

He was efficient at sorting out these kinds of simple facts.

He was quite familiar with those feelings. He could never forget his days in Wool’s Orphanage, shunned; his cries for help spurned by everyone.

He made a vow to make those who had hurt him regret their misdeeds for as long as they lived.

And he had delivered.

He stole, tortured and killed. There was nothing he would not do to take his rightful place and rule.

The pampered Pureblood Heirs and Lords who worked for him ought to know their place and kneel.

He was Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last Gaunt and the rightful Heir of Salazar Slytherin.

“You disappointed me, Pollux,” he underlined his words by tightening his grip on Pollux’s shoulder sharply. Vicious tendrils of magic danced over his pale fingers.

The older wizard gasped in pain. “How are you going to deal with this?” He released the pressure abruptly, his eyes probing the bent head.

“I have to answer the summons. I cannot ignore the head of the family’s call,” Pollux stiffened, his face suddenly stricken with horror. “So...do you think he plans to punish me? But Arcturus is—‘’

“Arcturus Black is a sly wizard and you are no match for him. I have no doubt he’s planning something grave, something that would destroy you at once. You’ve given him a merry chase for a while but it’s over. It ends tonight.”

Pollux’s head jerked back in momentary shock. Tom glowered at him.

He wanted to scoff. “You are free to leave. You are no use for me anymore now that your cover has been blown. Secrecy is paramount for our cause to succeed.”

Pollux closed his eyes in defeat.

Tom glared at the dolt in tight-lipped silence, growing angrier with each passing moment.

Besides the hunger for blood he felt, he was also annoyed. All his plans to infiltrate House Black and have his hands on their assets—not to mention the notorious private book collection—had failed. 

However, what infuriated him most was their unbending will.

He resented Orion's stiff spine and defiant manner. Heir Black never paid him the respect he deserved in Hogwarts; never sought his favour or started a single conversation with him.

Every member of House Slytherin seemed to tense at the mere mention of his name but never Orion Black.

“From now on, you are on your own. Do not darken my doorstep again and do not seek me. You know the penalty of ignoring my warning so heed it well, Pollux.”

A look of pained disbelief flickered in Pollux’s defeated eyes, but his face was otherwise blank as he nodded curtly at him.

He walked forward heading for the door.

Tom watched the unfolding tableau, wondering what was going to happen to the failure of a man.

No doubt he would be punished for being derelict in his duty and ignoring Lord Black’s warning.

It wasn’t as if he did not deserve that. At least, Arcturus would save him the trouble of trying to hide the body.

“You are heartless, my friend.” A smooth voice drawled carelessly.

Tom gritted his teeth. The instinct to lash at the intruder was so hard to smother. “I told you to give me a notice before barging in. You could’ve been seen.”

Lothaire grinned viciously. “I was here the whole time you were lecturing itty bitty Pollux. Don’t you know? I tend to eavesdrop and watch from the shadows. I am an avid voyeur. You cannot believe the kind of scenes I stumbled upon by accident...or not.”

Tom stiffened. Jealousy crashed into him like Fiendfyre. The Vampire’s power infuriated him beyond reason. No one was supposed to be this great.

Smugness oozed from Lothaire.

He took a seat and languidly, looked at him with blazing red eyes. “It took me centuries to amass my power and hone my skills, young Tom. I have no equal. So drop your foolishness and tell me, are you really giving up on your sole Black ally? I was made to think, you are not one to give up on your band of brain-washed fools.”

Lothaire whistled, studying his immaculate nails as he waited for his answer.

Tom took a deep breath and said gruffly. “Who said he is my only Black ally? And yes, I tend to give up on weaklings. Emergency measures may be necessary in order to avert a calamity.”

Lothaire scoffed and buried his fingers in his silver-white hair. “You wound me with your coldness, Tom. Should I thank the Fates because I am the furthest thing from a weakling? Would you stab me in the back if I fail to bring you the desired results? Wait, a stab in the back won’t kill me. It amuses me to read the kind of silly tales you teach your young about us. “

Swearing under his breath, Tom prayed for patience. It had been years since another being had frustrated him as much as the Russian Coven Master did. He made him feel like a small and cornered rat.

“I can always look for the right answer,” he said with scathing contempt. “Though, I was made to believe we were allies…”

Lothaire winked at him but remained stonily silent and his arrogant refusal to submit to his will enraged him yet more.

His fists clenched at his sides, he fought down his rage and continued, “I hope you are not planning to inconvenience me or my cause.”

He did not say that he would do his best to make the Vampire’s eternal life a living hell if he planned to betray him.

Looking into the sinister, way too-perfect face, Tom fully believed he could, and would, do it.

“You are so predictable, Tom. But you are entertaining me,” Lothaire’s voice was a breathy whisper, rasping with amusement.

Chapter Text

Silence stretched on. All that could be heard was the crackling of the flames as they devoured the wood in the fireplace.

“Pollux,” Arcturus’ eyes glimmered in the firelit room. “I do not understand how you could think so little of me.” He asked with the softest voice, furthering his cousin’s demise. However, there was no missing the warning thread woven into his voice.

“I would never betray our family,” Pollux answered woodenly as if he had practised telling the words a hundred times in his head until they lost their power.

The enormity of the moment was difficult to grasp.

Hespera had never felt anything similar to the tension filling the air and making everyone sitting in the room understand why you should never trifle with Arcturus Sirius Black the Third.

A chilling wind crackled the curtains and the short hairs at the back of her neck stood with awareness.

As if reading the thoughts taxing her mind, Orion took her hand in his and gave her an encouraging smile.

“It had to be done,” he whispered. “There is no choice. Not anymore, thanks to my uncle’s foolishness.”

“I know.” Her grip tightened. 

“Betrayal,” Arcturus said pointedly, stating the truth. “Ignoring Lord Black’s orders and attempted grand theft of my Title and birthright. Yes, you have committed the gravest sins in my book.” Arcturus tilted his head with a blood-curdling smile, his gaze pinned on Pollux. “I warned you of my volatility early on, cousin. Contrary to what you believe, I am not without mercy. I turned a blind eye to your transgressions for years.” A glint of searing emotion appeared in Arcturus’ luminous eyes before it was quickly extinguished. “It ends tonight. You are no fool. I bet it felt glorious while it lasted. Now, you shall face the consequences.”

“Arcturus,” Pollux took a step back looking perturbed. Hespera doubted the wisdom of interrupting Arcturus.

She sensed his consuming fury. It was like the pit of a volcano, hot and merciless.

Pollux was a fool. How could he think he could escape Arcturus’ wrath or mellow him? His self-control usually outweighed his temper but the traitor wouldn’t stop pushing and pushing until he did the unthinkable and awakened the beast. It was utterly stupid.

“Tom Riddle knows how to use people’s weaknesses against them,” Death whispered in her head. “He’s a master manipulator.”

“But Pollux is a Black. How could he submit to a lesser wizard’s will?” she wondered.

“Pollux is a greedy and covetous man. He never accepted that he was no match for Arcturus. That child was picked up by the Black Magic since the moment Mother Magic gifted his soul to Sirius and Hesper,” Death sighed.

“The Black Magic chose him? But isn’t he Lord Sirius’ eldest? The Black Lordship is his birthright.” Hespera couldn’t hide her surprise.

Death chuckled. “Mistress, there’s a lot you need to learn about this world; your world.” He paused deliberately knowing how much his antics infuriated her. “House Black is one of the oldest in Magical Britain. I gifted Hyperion Black the First my Grim centuries ago and every Black carries a part of the Grim’s essence in their souls. Like my beloved Familiar, their magic is vicious and wild. No one can tame a Grim or expect him to behave. Moreover, the Family Magic answers to the chosen Lord. He’s the sole protector of the family after the Grim, that is.”

Hespera tilted her head, considering Death’s words. “After the Grim?”

“Yes. Because my Grim is dreadfully scrupulous. He’d rather spend his time in the Underworld, keeping me company and giving me endless headaches than settle for someone he considers unworthy. Orion is the Seventh Black since Lord Altair Black the Third to be chosen by the Grim. My sisters believe that the Grim doesn’t wander into the Mortal Realm unless there’s a purpose.” Silence stretched for an excruciatingly long moment until she feared he wouldn’t finish his tale. It was rather interesting to learn more about House Black’s history and understand the particularities of their magic. “You are the reason Orion is the new carrier of the Grim.”

Hespera’s heart beat furiously making her feel unsteady. “Why are you telling me all this now of all times?”

Death’s voice dripped with amusement. “Because you are about to witness something unmatched, Mistress. You are about to understand why you should never trifle with a Black blessed by the Family Magic. I wish I could get a new minion when all this is over, but knowing Arcturus he couldn’t be that lenient. His mind works in the most curious ways.”

Death vanished at once, leaving her with more questions.

“That bloody bastard,” she muttered under her breath.

“Hespera?” Orion caressed the skin of her wrist. “If you are uncomfortable with all this we—“

“No,” she smiled. “I’m a member of this family, now. I will share everything with you. The good and the bad.”

Her answer seemed to please Orion tremendously. His firelit eyes gleamed with satisfaction and love. “I didn’t want you to witness something so…. unsavoury. But you, more than most, do understand how Pollux’ treachery had ruined our family in the past. We cannot let history repeat itself.”

“We won’t.” Her hand tightened in his, her gaze sweeping over his face. “We will fight for a better future.”

“Tell me Pollux, were you Lord Black, how would you punish a traitor? Be warned, it’s unbefitting a wizard of House Black to lie. Have some dignity at least.”

Hespera sensed some of Arcturus’ rage abate at the look of horror on Pollux’ face.

He knew he was cornered with no way out.

The moment he stepped into Grimmauld Place, Arcturus took hold of the wards.

Without his permission, no one—other than Orion could apparate or use the floo.

Pollux sighed and dropped his head. “With this change in my circumstances, can I be emboldened and ask for a last chance? It’s not like you didn’t see this coming. You took everything from my family. All the opportunities, all the fortunes, all the glory.” His face was a blend of deep resentment and hopelessness.

“Your family?” Arcturus lifted his chin to look into his cousin’s eyes, no longer hiding his anger. “I thought that your family was mine, under my protection. Don’t you consider yourself a member of this House?”

“You know what I meant,” Pollux hissed.

“So, either I destroy my son and Heir’s future and offer your daughter a chance she does not deserve or you stray and make an alliance with the enemy? Are you jesting because I am in no mood for more of your ploys. I have more pressing matters that need my attention.”

Everyone stilled when Arcturus flicked his wand.

The gesture was eerily threatening, even though the wand was merely dangling from his relaxed grasp.

Pollux took another step back.

“As much as I tried to admire your father, he did you a terrible disservice by encouraging your illusions. If he had not allowed you to dream about taking control of this family with underhanded methods, you would be living in peace, content with your place in this world. You were never meant for leadership or lordship, Pollux. It takes someone who prioritizes his family’s well-being, someone who is ready to make sacrifices, to take the difficult path and hope for the best to lead this family. The Family Magic is a hefty burden. Our forefathers spent centuries protecting this family. How could expect mercy after all that you have done?” The affection Arcturus had always borne for his family was etched deeply in the lines of his face.

Hespera heard some tales from Sirius and knew that his grandfather was a passionate man despite the cold mask he wore at all times.

She felt a great deal of respect for the wizard who would do anything to protect what he considered his, even if it went against his personal feelings and wishes.

“Father had never coveted the Lordship,” Orion murmured. “He would rather live in peace with Mother in a secluded cottage in the countryside. However, the Family Magic plumped for him.”

“It’s curious how the Black Magic works,” she closed her eyes, the full burden of the Black Lordship laid out before her.

No Black could escape his destiny.

Was Orion meant for the same?

She wouldn’t let him suffer, wouldn't let his shoulders crumble under the weight. She would sooner suffer a thousand unbearable Killing Curses than betray his trust and leave him alone.

“You have me.” She had never said truer words. “I will walk this path with you. You don’t have to carry the burden alone.”Orion had already emblazoned her soul. Everything about him has. He was hers to love, hers to cherish, hers to protect.

His magic shuddered under their touching skin and she felt the Grim’s essence like a cold night breeze caressing her, taking her between his huge arms.

“You are ours,” was Orion’s simple answer.

“There is no cause to be rash,” Pollux tried desperately. “We have been at odds for years. I admit I was momentarily blinded by jealousy but I deserve another chance. You need me. House Black needs me.”

Arcturus’ twisted smile remained, higher on one side than the other, making his silver-grey eyes gleam with pure annoyance. “I thank you for your generous proposal. Regretfully, I cannot accept any help coming from you. I have been doing well for years while you were plotting my downfall. The darkest corners of the Underworld are saved for betrayers like you. A dutiful child of House Black would rather suffer the fiercest torment and die with his honor intact than face Mother Magic as a blood-traitor.”

When Pollux’ face became ashen, Arcturus grasped the handle of his wand. “Yes, I declare you a blood-traitor. You are no longer pure.”

A shadow of sadness passed over Melania and Lycoris’ faces.

“Arcturus….” 

“How could expect less after what he did?” Cassiopeia eyed her brother disdainfully. “The fact that I shared the same womb with you causes me great distress. I’m certain there have been volumes written about your imbecility that we have not yet discovered, however, I did not expect your foolishness to reach these unprecedented heights. Shame on you. No brother of mine is a blood-traitor.”

Her Blood-Sister cut an impressive figure as she faced her brother head-on. Hespera sensed the rage pounding in her veins.

Hespera knew about the bad blood between the siblings. Pollux had never accepted Cassiopeia’s singularity, never tried to understand her quiddities.

“Cassiopeia, please,” Melania laid a hand on the other witch’s arm. “Enough.”

“You are awfully kind, Melania,” Cassiopeia huffed with indignation. “My dear brother does not deserve your sympathy. He deserves nothing less than Death’s cold hug. I can be your guide through the trip."

Lucretia gasped. “Aunt Cassiopeia!”

“While your offer is most generous, cousin. I’m afraid I have to recline,” Arcturus’ eyes studied Pollux’ unsteady form lazily. “I know I can do better.”

“Arcturus, don’t.” Pollux pushed all pretence to the side. All fight seemed to have left him. “I’m your cousin, your blood. Think about my children, they need me.”

Orion stood gracefully and joined his father. “What children are you talking about, uncle? Does Alphard, the most brilliant one of the three count? Where were you when Uncle Regulus took him under his wing, when you overlooked his potential and mocked his dreams?”

“Orion, this does not concern you!” Pollux hissed. “It’s all your fault.”

“How dare you address my Heir with less than respect?” Arcturus breathed. His frigid voice covered everyone in shivers. “Pollux Cygnus Black, with the power given to me as the Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, I declare you a blood-traitor. You betrayed your blood and your magic is no longer pure. It has been tainted with greed and jealousy and thus, you do not deserve the honour of carrying it anymore.”

Everyone jumped to their feet as Arcturus finished the ominous words.

“And…he did it,” Death chirped. “I wouldn’t expect less for the bloodthirsty old fox. He possesses a Grim heart, even though he was not chosen by my Familiar, for it takes more strength to remain silent while fighting your true nature and…turning a blind eye to some unsavoury things. Arcturus Black is not boisterous or loud at all, never bringing attention to himself. Rather Mother Magic favours him. When he steps into a room, he dominates it.”

“Does it mean…” Hespera was too startled to ask.

“Watch and learn, Hespera,” Death’s voice dropped. “This is how you deal with blood-traitors.”

Arcturus ignored everyone, all his razor-sharp focus on Pollux. “You fought valiantly against my authority. You mocked my warnings and veered from the path. It’s time you pay. I, Arcturus Sirius Black the Third do reclaim your magic as my own, as part of the Family Magic because, obviously, you do not deserve it. You wanted to kill Muggles and Mugglebons. Be my guest for you shall become worse than both. Toujours Pur does not apply to you from this moment on. This is my verdict and as such, it is beyond contestation. So Mote Be It.”

Arcturus jabbed his wand into Pollux’ chest and he fell to his knees in a heap, his blood-curdling screams filling the room.

Hespera pushed aside all pity as she watched how Blacks dealt with traitors.

Vicious, ruthless threads of magic danced before her eyes coveting their new prey. The room became ice-cold and the floating candles stilled as if sensing the gravity of the moment.

Unshed tears pooled in Melania and Lucretia’s eyes and tugged at Hespera’s heartstrings.

Arcturus stepped away from the unconscious man and looked down at him, his eyes brimming with pity. “Call for Cygnus, he will need to be taken care of.”

Chapter Text

‘’A traitor is not suitable to have the family magic. Particularly when the traitor himself could not admit to his mistakes,” Arcturus said curtly. “Take your father home and make sure he recovers well. I did you a service by not including you in his punishment but make no mistake Cygnus, one more step out of line and you shall get no mercy. No good would come of challenging my authority.”

With that, Arcturus left the room, his robes billowing behind him.

Orion observed his cousin thoroughly. Cygnus’ face was—as usual, utterly blank.

Unlike Alphard, his cousin and yearmate had always been the most collected among Pollux’ children.

He steeled himself against a stab of sympathy when Cygnus levitated his father towards the fireplace.

“You can contact me if you need any help,” he said lightly, breaking the tension.

“Thank you, Heir Black,” Cygnus nodded. “Unfortunately, you cannot provide the kind of help my father requires. He’s a proud man. I doubt he can ever come to terms with this predicament.” Came the sullen reply.

Without another word, without looking back, Cygnus threw a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

He just stood there at odds with what to do.

“This is not your fault,” Hespera said with a rueful smile. “I will admit it doesn’t seem fair to take a wizard’s magic and leave him to endure the consequences. I’m not certain how Arcturus was able to manage that but…I can understand.”

He took her hand in his, seeking the warmth only she could provide. “I fear retribution. I don’t want a circle of hate and revenge to start. My family can’t afford that; not now when we are facing an ominous war.”

“Pollux’ choice helped no one, including his children. He doomed an entire family to live in gloom. I cannot conceive how he didn’t see all this coming. However, we have to make sure that nothing similar happens.” The stubborn set of her mouth told him everything he needed to know.

They had to keep an eye on Walburga and Cygnus before they acted without consideration or thought.

“People are known to act thoughtlessly when they are in mourning. We both know what Walburga did. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt for a while and see if she seizes this chance to pick up a different path.”

“I doubt she ever would,” Cassiopeia joined them after bidding Melania and Lucretia goodnight. “She had the benefit of a privileged life but her nature is cruel.”

Cassiopeia was devastating when silent however, she was downright lethal when she was being blunt.

They were on the second floor when Hespera spoke again. “Do you need some company?”

“I’m certain he does,” Cassiopeia smirked. “I understand if you wish to be around your lady-love, so consider this a courtesy. And don’t worry, I haven’t seen a thing. What I consider right and wrong is entirely different from what other people think.”

Orion sighed. It was completely inappropriate for Hespera to step into his room this late, but given what they went through, he did not care.

“Thank you,” he said sarcastically. “This is kind of you.”

She executed an exaggerated curtsey then headed toward her room.

“She’s awful,” he muttered under his breath.

“She’s the best,” Hespera grinned. “But you cannot deny that some traditions were invented by idiots. Why can’t I spend time with you alone before the bonding ceremony? Maybe good company is all that the other party needs. Just because they don’t understand the importance of finding a shoulder to lean on doesn’t mean it lacks merit. I hate this bunch of soulless hypocrites.” She shot an incredulous glance at the door.

“That leaves me with nothing to say, then,” he took her into his arms and closed the door.

Sinking his fingers into her hair after deftly undoing her intricate coiffure, he swept an intent gaze over her face. “I want all of this to end. I want my family to be safe. I want to start a life with you. To have what I did not lose yet. Sirius and Regulus and their five siblings.” He finished, his voice dropping to a smoky drone.

A shocked silence greeted his reminder.

Hespera’s lashes lowered, settling in dark crescents against her pink skin. Her innocence was so endearing.

She followed without effort as he relaxed in his favourite chair, propped his booted feet on the desk then lifted her to sit on his lap.

His hand lifted to the side of her face, tilting it upward, while his other arm drew around her.

He needed her proximity as much as he needed his next breath.

She went pliant, clinging to his arms as he lowered his head and touched his lips to her temple. “Thank you for coming here, for choosing to start again," he whispered against her heated skin.

Both her hands came to his face, gently adjusting the angle of his jaw as she coaxed him to look into her eyes. “I know how hard it is to be judge and executioner. But you are not alone. You will never be again. When the time comes for you to take your father’s place, you will have me.”

He slid his mouth to her ear. “How come you can understand me so well?” he smiled.

“Because I know your heart. Moreover, you remind me of Sirius. Like you, he was always reluctant to share his fears.”

He kissed her slow and ruthlessly soft until her mouth clung to his. Her hand caressed his chest and her head tilted upwards as she surrendered to his need.

His fingers stroked her cheek. “I love you.”

“And I—“

They went still, lifting their heads at once when they heard an amused whistle.

“How disgustingly romantic,” drawled a heavily accented voice.

“You!’’ Orion jumped to his feet.

The Vampire winked. “Lothaire Konstantin Daciano is at your service, my lady.” His blood-red eyes gleamed when they met his. “I should applaud your humble attempt to keep me away from your home, Mortal.”

“What do you want, Lothaire?” Hespera asked calmly, putting her hair back in order.

“Well, I haven’t seen you in a while. While making a not-so-welcome visit to Luna Silva Forest, I noticed the changes your intervention brought about. I know better than to consult with Alpha Greyback lest he tries to decapitate me, but then again, he has to catch me first which is quite impossible,” he shrugged.

“Do you love the sound of your voice?” Orion cocked a brow up. “Aren’t you a bit of a narcissist?”

The blond Vampire was as much a puzzle as he was a puzzle master and he intended to get to the bottom of his game.

If he expected him to protest, he was utterly disappointed.

The Vampire leaned against the wall and studied the floating candles. “Narkissos of Thespiae…I miss that bastard. However, while we might share traits, I came first so he’s Lothairistic not the other way around.”

Hespera snorted. “Really? I would’ve never guessed that if not for this most enlightening conversation. Would you like to have a seat? I’m afraid we don’t have the kind of beverages you prefer, though.”

Orion stared at her as if she had sprouted a second head.

“Let’s find out what King Lothaire wants,” a note of excitement entered her voice. “Maybe he wants to minimize the casualties of Tom’s madness. You cannot blame him for that.”

He gave her a reproachful glance but the part of him that was pure Black agreed.

Gathering information and using it accordingly was his family’s craft since the days of Lord Hyperion the First.

Who was he to cut with a thousand years of family tradition?

Lothaire bowed his head and took a chair. “Thank you, Lady Peverell.”

“So, why are you here? We know that Tom wants to use your services. Was there an argument?” Orion started in a deadpan voice.

“He has better pray that an argument with me never happens. I would dispose of him in a blink.” The vampire’s grin was all fangs.

“Would you really?” Hespera seemed genuinely interested.

“Of course. I’ll like it more if he tries something but he’ll like it more if he doesn’t. The bottom line is, he’s nothing but a bad, inexperienced Mortal.”

“I’m certain he wouldn’t appreciate your compliments,’’ Orion smiled slightly.

There was something disturbing about the Vampire but he couldn’t help but admire the way his mind worked.

“Should we really address Tom as Mortal? You know he aspires to become something else; something more,” Hespera folded her arms. “Surely, you sensed the stain in his soul.”

“So, you do not consider us bloodsuckers soulless?” Lothaire looked at her intently.

“You are children of Mother Magic. How could she damn her beloved kids?” Was her soft answer.

Her words seemed to touch Lothaire as much as they surprised him.

“You know?” he contemplated her face.

“I am Death’s Chosen. He tells me things that no other knows. Stories Wixen consider myths or old grandmothers’ tales. Like Werewolves, you are not cursed. You are blessed. Your souls are warmer than the sun you will never see,” she was outwardly calm as Lothaire stood and gazed through the window.

At times, Orion had noticed that Hespera seemed so engrossed in her thoughts she barely noticed her surroundings. It had never crossed his mind that like him, she heard voices.

With luck, Death wasn’t as annoying as his Grim.

“Are you insulting me?” The beast growled.

“I would never do something so loathsome,” he fired back. “I was merely stating facts.”

“Death is most gracious,” the Grim chirped. “However, I prefer the Realm of the Living.”

Before he could ask how he knew Death’s whereabouts, the Grim retreated to the back of his mind.

“Coward,” he fumed frustrated with his misbehaving creature.

“Orion?” Hespera’s brows furrowed in concern.

“I hope you are more artful in dealing with your creature, Heir Black,” Lothaire spoke as if he was giving a lecture. “Perhaps use a smidgen of diplomacy? Even if I agree that housing a rogue dog is quite troublesome, you have to make peace with the beast in order to attain the perfect balance. Only then could you merge fully with the Grim.”

Orion froze.

The Vampire knew that he had trouble making the first shift. How much more did he know about his family’s secrets?

As if reading his thoughts, Lothaire shrugged. “Your family does interest me. I love power and I respect raw talent. The Maiden of Death; Cassiopeia, summoned my mother’s soul. She had been keeping her company which I’m grateful for. I reckon the dead are lonely. Most importantly, you are betrothed to the Mistress of Death. You are the Grim Guardian. Your link with us; creatures of the night, is stronger than what you think.”

“But why did you accept Tom’s invitation?” Hespera asked.

“Because I was bored at the time. Moreover, I heard rumours about you and I had to make sure that they were true. And now, I am pleased,” he took his seat back.

“Pleased?” Orion repeated blankly.

“Yes. Why would I draw the short straw when I can do better? There’s a small Coven of Vampires in Wales. Their Master sought my help and being the awesome, kind-hearted me, I couldn’t refuse. From a practical standpoint, I will gain their allegiance and more names to add to my book of favours. It’s a win-win situation if I might say so,” he tapped his chin with a sharp nail while his eyes shone like two rubies. “The Coven is awfully poor. They’re not allowed to step out of the forest. Could you guarantee a better future for them?”

“What would we get in exchange?” Orion demanded.

“Orion,” Hespera gasped, however, he saw the glint of satisfaction in her eyes.

“Unlike either of us, the Mistress of Death has a conscience. How delightful. Spirited on the outside but sensitive at the core.”

“Are you insulting me?” Orion studied the Vampire.

He sensed the Dark Magic cloaking him. It was heady and stifling. It was most likely the reason for all the floating hostility and high-riding tension his Grim was feeling.

No wonder Tom sought him. He did not doubt that he was way more powerful than what he let on.

“I would never. I plan to become your friend. Well, sort of.” That earned him a blank glance. “And as a proof of my good intentions, I am going to share Tom’s plans with you,” he smiled with dangerous softness.

“Really?” Hespera’s voice was quiet. So quiet.

“Most definitely. Even though insults only hurt when they come from people we respect, Tom Marvolo Riddle insulted me when he thought that he could make me his minion. I am of royal blood, a born king, how could he entertain such a delusional idea is beyond me. Mortals are dreadfully dumb,” he said darkly. “He provided some entertainment for a while. It ends now. Taking lives is rewarding. Spiritually. However, I condemn the meaningless killing. I don’t hunt the weak and powerless. There's no fun in that.”

“What is he up to?” Orion asked.

“Tomorrow, the Dark Lord makes his first raid.”

When they exchanged a dark glance, Lothaire tsked. ‘’What a shameful manipulator. He managed to convince a bunch of purists to follow him. I pity those fools, mainly a certain Miss Walburga Black.”

Chapter Text

Orion’s composure almost floundered and collapsed when he met Alphard’s haunted eyes.

“Maybe I should leave you alone,” Apprentice Eileen Prince sounded hesitant for a moment. “I’ll check on the Dreamless Sleep, it should be ready by now.” She curtsied and left after throwing a last concerned glance at Alphard.

“Orion?” Alphard’s face was wiped clean of all expression but he couldn’t fool him.

He knew that what he was about to tell his cousin wouldn’t please him at all.

Orion stood his ground although it took all his strength not to wilt beneath his cousin’s questioning gaze.

Alphard wasn’t merely family. He was the brother he never had.

Orion shook his head in baffled anger and opened his mouth to deliver the painful blow.

As Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and the future Lord of one of Magical Britain’s oldest Houses, he was destined to make hard choices; choices that might hurt the people he loved.

However…Family came first. Always.

“Your sister’s tendency to stab us in the back is incurable,” he closed his mouth abruptly. “She’s rotten to the core. She considers people toys she can play with; me included. Her anger after I refused her never subdued, so she’s planning to partake in the ultimate betrayal.”

Alphard stared at him helplessly. “I knew she was up to something since Cygnus brought Father home a week ago. She’s been awfully impertinent, not that she’s not the rudest person I had the displeasure of meeting. But…Well—‘’

‘She’s my sister….’ The words hovered in the air between them like an ominous reminder.

Why were the Fates so cruel? Alphard didn’t deserve this and nor did Orion…

“How is he doing?” Orion cleared his throat.

He wished he had the power to reassure his cousin that his love for his family wouldn’t hurt him anymore…that they wouldn’t ask of him again to watch as they punished people he couldn’t help but be protective of.

“Well, what do you expect when he lost the thing he cherishes more than his life?” Alphard’s face was harassed by a flood of mixed emotions. “The bastard is prideful and as stubborn as a Hippogriff. He’s been silent since he woke up. He wouldn’t talk to anyone, even Walburga; his favourite.” Orion heard the bitterness. “His body is faring surprisingly well; his mind…though…Pollux lost his will and you know what that does to a Black.”

“The Black Madness,” Orion whispered.

Alphard nodded. “It wouldn’t be long before he yields to the demon living inside every one of us. Nothing would be left of him by then.” Agony lurked in his gaze and helplessness edged the steadiness of his voice.

Orion knew that what Alphard feared would happen eventually.

His father knew how to deliver a fatal blow. He could’ve banished Pollux from the family but he knew to hit where it hurt most.

He set his jaw. “I received some disturbing news a few days ago.”

“Walburga?” Alphard’s gaze settled on his face. 

Orion nodded grimly. “I don’t want to hurt her. She’s my blood, but….”

“She made her choice,” Alphard said in a rough voice, frowning as if the effort it took to say the words caused him tremendous pain.

“Yes.” Was Orion’s curt rely. “I do not know what we will find tonight. All I know is that a proud maiden of House Black who should never bow is conspiring with the enemy. I cannot overlook this, Alph. I’m sorry.”

Orion’s voice echoed in the deadly quiet of the Apothecary.

“May I join you?” When Orion stilled, Alphard shook his head. “I may not be the most accomplished duelist in Magical Britain but I know a thing or two about throwing a deadly curse.”

“This is not your fight,” Orion’s face was like carved marble as he pushed all feelings behind his steely Occlumency shields. Any hint of sympathy would push Alphard over the edge. 

Alphard wasn’t known for being an obsequious man however, he knew when he had to give up.

He could never raise his wand to his sister. 

“Will Hespera be there?” he lowered his eyes, pretending to inspect a root of a Stinking Nightshade.

“Yes,” Orion raked his fingers through his hair. “Either way, she doesn’t need me. I’m merely tugging along.”

Alphard smirked. “You’ve been alone for so long. A score of eligible highbred maidens would offer for you tomorrow if you’d have them. But being the unattainable Heir Black, you accomplished the impossible deed of working your way out of their path time and again. You are labouring under the mistaken impression that your future Lady has to need you. From where I stand, it is almost always the other way around.”

Orion cocked a brow up. “When did you learn all this wisdom? Should I thank Apprentice Prince for this?”

Heat rushed to Alphard’s cheeks. “Don’t be an ungrateful prat. Off you go, I have work to do and Uncle Regulus is not the most patient man.”

Cassiopeia’s calculating gaze went to the empty streets and Hespera exhaled.

She could almost taste the upcoming danger. It heightened her awareness and incited both her excitement and anxiety, bringing up a lot of emotions and memories she would rather forget. 

Even Death wasn’t throwing his unwanted comments here and there. 

“Why Hogsmeade in particular? Isn’t he aware that Hogwarts staff will rush to the villagers’ rescue as soon as he throws the first curse?” Orion said with blatant annoyance.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle is a pretentious bastard. He would not settle for less than a big display of power,” Cassiopeia gazed at the starless sky. “I know his type; my least favourite if you ask. I do not care for people with disgusting delusions of grandeur. They tend to waste my valuable time and I tend to kill them, so I cannot complain, not without sounding like a hypocrite.”

Hespera smiled. “And naturally you loathe hypocrites as well.”

Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. “Of course, I do. To tell the truth, I despise most people. They’re awfully predictable.”

“Fleamont, Charlus and Dorea are here,” she sighed when she sensed her kin.

It still amazed her how she went from a lonesome orphan to a girl surrounded by a flock of eager relatives.

She had a fiancée who loved her unconditionally, in-laws who dotted on her and she had….the Potters.

Her blood-family.

And that was not all. For rare was the night, she was making the first move; being the hunter instead of looking for a way out of another trap devised by Voldemort.

Voldemort had no right to become a part of her future. He should remain where he belonged; in her past.

Orion’s perpetually vigilant gaze sought her and she sent her brightest smile.

The Peverell White dress bestowed upon her by Death during their first meeting billowed behind her; the fabric sewn from the Fates’ finest thread.

She needed no armour. There was something eerily soothing about believing in her magic; believing in herself: something she was robbed of in her first life.

She recalled with startling clarity the thrill she’d known when she beat Tom at his own game and countered his mental attack.

She was not Hespera Potter; Dumbledore’s puppet and wizarding Britain’s scapegoat anymore.

She was Lady Hespera Peverell; the Mistress of Death and the only one with the right to decide her fate.

She let her magic free; extending to greet her family members.

Her brows furrowed when Lord Harfang Longbottom bowed his head. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Hespera. But where a Potter goes, the Longbottoms follow. That’s the Longbottom way.”

Her eyes softened as he remembered a shy, gentle boy with the biggest heart she never got the chance to know well.

Neville….

The strongest wizard she met in her life.

“I couldn’t get rid of this nosy bastard,” Fleamont huffed before he kissed her on the cheek. “It was as if he knew we were up to something tonight.”

Harfang smirked. “You are delusional old man if you think you can keep a Longbottom away from the battlefield. This is where we belong.”

“So much pride in such a lanky body,” Charlus tsked. “You’d make a Malfoy green with envy.”

Orion cleared his throat. “We have no feud with the Malfoys.”

Charlus’ grin widened. “But I will never stop taunting them.”

“Charlus,” Dorea started to object but Charlus quickly took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Come now, beloved. A man must have his fun even at the direst moments.”

“Well said, Charlus,” Cassiopeia said. “Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. People might frown upon our choice to seek entertainment at the most unholy hour. But people are known to be fools.”

“Merlin’s Mercy,” Dorea exclaimed. “I cannot deal with both of you at once.”

“But you love us anyway, right?” Charlus looked down at his wife with twinkling eyes.

Hespera relished in the calmness that preceded the storm.

“Mistress,” Death whispered. “The night is dark and no star is in sight. It is your time to shine. Are you ready to teach the bastard who dared defy me a lesson?”

“You’ve been silent for so long, I thought you were running some errands,” she retrieved the Elder Wand and basked in the alluring coldness it offered.

“I do not run errands. That’s my minions’ job. Soon, you will gift your dearest friend more hirelings to do the menial work, right?” The eagerness was unmistakable. 

“Not that I’m doing this for you,” Hespera eyed the streets shrewdly.

The feeling of the looming danger spread through the air. She embraced it, luxuriating in the darkness as it went through every limb until it burned the tips of her fingers.

An icy coldness that made her feel invincible.

Fleamont swore when many pops sounded nearby announcing the new arrivals.

Orion’s eyes became stormy, almost black. He took her hand in his; intertwining their fingers. His magic brushed against her; heated with the rush of a hunter who’d finally sighted his prey. Both man and beast’s senses honed on their surroundings.

The bunch of Wixen garbed all in black, slowed their step landing each footfall with care. 

It went against every instinct, every bone in her body not to lift her hand and curse the lot of them.

But she would not throw the first spell.

She pushed all thoughts from her mind, recalling only too well why she was doing this.

Ending Tom was too easy. But it wasn’t her main goal. She had to make an example of him to let every bastard considering joining him or following in his footsteps rethink their choice.

Tom Marvolo Riddle felt nothing. Only deadly purpose.

He wanted to forge a path of blood and destruction. 

No mercy. His twisted mind whispered eagerly and his smile widened.

Yes, no mercy.

Bloodlust roared through his veins and his senses flared heightened as excitement washed over him.

Tonight, he was about to make an example of the naive tenants of Hogsmeade.

People who had mocked him during his school years were flocking around him, seeking his approval. Pureblood Heirs and Heiresses were bowing to his will, eager to do his bidding.

Only one truth mattered then and there; he was strong, invisible, immortal.

With his Knights by his side, he knew they made a terrifying sight. They were wild and fearsome, a deadly medley of expert duelists and ambitious Wixen who knew that the only path to follow was his.

“Are you ready,” he asked coldly.

“Yes, my Lord,” Walburga lowered her gaze. “I’ve been born ready for this moment.”

Like her father, she was a fool to ascribe her usefulness to her high standing in his Inner Court. She was a bratty child; a spoiled girl who never spent a day hungry or cold or lacking.

As soon as her task was done, she would have no place among his troops. He had seen what she could offer and it would never be enough to secure the spot she was eyeing.

However, for now, he needed her eagerness to please him. He needed her thirst for blood. He needed her sadistic tendencies.

Heir Osmond Parkinson looked down at her. “Walburga, you have to stick to the plan. We are solely here to make our presence known. We are not after a bloodbath.”

She frowned, her gaze turning to Tom’s. “But we have to show Mudbloods and Blood Traitors their rightful place. At our feet.”

He smothered the need to curse her to oblivion.

How dare she look him straight in the eye?

“Listen to Osmond,” he hissed. 

“But—‘’

Her eyes widened and the blood drained off her face when his irises became blood-red and his lips thinned in displeasure.

“I understand completely,” she dropped her gaze.

Tom knew she was lying.

He didn’t pay her more attention, though. The short hairs at the back of his neck stood to attention and he inhaled deeply. His muscles strained against the thickness of the air.

His pulse leapt when one word reverberated in his mind.

Danger…

Chapter Text

Battle lust roared through Hespera’s veins.

Her senses flared heightened as the familiar sense of euphoria washed over her.

At that moment, her mind cleared of everything but the only thing that mattered: teaching Tom and his sycophants a very valuable lesson.

The Peverell Magic; cold, vicious and deadly surrounded her and she had never felt more alive.

She felt strong, capable and invincible.

And she wasn’t alone.

She could almost taste Fleamont, Charlus and Harfang’s eagerness.

Dorea, Cassiopeia and Orion though…

She shuddered as the Black Magic stroked against her skin. She heard the stories from her godfather before and witnessed the moment Arcturus broke Pollux irrevocably and reduced him to a Squib; his worst nightmare.

Even though Orion remained silent, composed and detached she knew better.

He was done with Walburga and her games. The memories he collected from her mind did not make it any better for her.

Cassiopeia was being unapologetically herself in a very direct manner. She shed her outer skin and let the sinister grin loose.

Not that she had expected less from her Blood Sister. She did not doubt that among the members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, she was the most dangerous.

Her gaze went again to Tom and his pathetic gang.

She recognized some of them from the Wizengamot: Lord Nott and his Heir, Lord Parkinson and his Heir, Lord Jugson, Lord Bulstrode, Lord Goyle and Lord Crabbe.

Walburga was proudly standing next to Osmund, an unhinged smile that reminded her of Bella twisting her lips.

Tom glided with the effortless charisma of King.

It was mind-blowing that this tall, imposing man would become the noseless monster that had plagued her dreams for years.

He looked calm and authoritative as he directed his Death Eaters.

They wedged deeper still in the streets of Hogsmeade but before they started firing curses, Fleamont jumped to his feet. “It’s time.”

“I reckon it is,” Hespera nodded, eyes glued to Tom Riddle.

His eyes were cool and blood-red, revealing nothing but she wasn’t anyone.

She was his greatest enemy. A piece of his soul lived inside her for seventeen long years. She knew him better than anyone.

He was aware that something wasn’t right. Like her, he felt the baffling, eager tension building in the air; a charge as strong as lightning.

His voice was low and quiet as he lifted his hand and ordered. “Don’t move.”

Hespera nodded once and her company apparated at once facing the uninvited guests.

“Together,” Orion murmured his hand still clutching hers.

She knew they were a terrifying sight: Seven of the most skilled duelists in Magical Britain standing side by side.

Everyone knew of the Potters and Longbottoms' prowess on the battlefield.

Dorea and Cassiopeia were two daughters of House Black, taught since the tender age of five how to defend themselves not to mention that the Black Necromancer’s reputation preceded her. No one wanted to face her and learn firsthand if the rumours about her were true.

Orion was Heir Black. His skill was unquestionable for the Family Magic would never accept a weakling.

As for her…

She was the new Lady Peverell and it was time to show everyone why it was foolish to make an enemy of her House.

Charlus, Fleamont and Harfang threw themselves into the fight. Literally.

Fleamont cornered Tiberius Nott and considering the verbal lashes between the two Wizengamot enemies, she was not surprised.

Charlus stalked Parkinson like a hungry cat while Harfang chose Bulstrode.

They were wild and fearsome, yet even more awe-inspiring working in tandem. It was a deadly medley of expertly wielded wands.

Several Death Eaters surrounded their leader, shielding him from view but it would do him no good.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle,” she said, not taking her eyes off him and a smirk tilted her lips when he stiffened.

Yes, he hated his Muggle name with a passion. He found it extremely demeaning.

“Or should I call you….Voldemort? I think you’ve started thinking about the anagram a while ago.”

A sinister edge lurked in his blood-red gaze as he stared at her blankly.

So, unlike the Voldemort of her time, Tom’s mental faculties weren’t all gone yet. He didn’t curse first and ask next.

Nevertheless, he was a man of no morals. A Psychopath. A monster with no limits. A beast in the form of a sophisticated gentleman. A liar who sold delusions and fake dreams.

“Lady Peverell, to what do I owe this pleasure? If I might add, what a bloodthirsty company you have here.” His calm voice belied the deadly expression on his face.

Instead of helpless villagers, he ran headlong into a small army of seemingly indestructible warriors.

Hespera tilted her head to the side. “Why, thank you, Tom. I will take your words as a compliment. I endeavoured to leave the warmth of my home and come here because I heard some disturbing news. It came to my knowledge that a fool was planning to attack Hogsmeade and spread chaos. Can you believe the audacity of him?”

Tom advanced motioning for his guards to make way. Each of his movements oozed with suffocating control. However, tension wrapped itself around him like a noose.

Naturally, he knew by now that he had a traitor among his most trusted.

“How dare you talk to your betters like this?” Walburga shouted, making sure she ensnared everyone's attention.

“Oh, Miss Black…What are you doing here? I did not realize this was such a thrilling place to be at such a late hour,” Hespera cocked a brow up.

“You…” Walburga snarled but was cut off when Cassiopeia threw a silencing spell at her. “This is much better. Don’t worry, niece. We’ll take care of you. Soon.”

Walburga’s eyes widened comically now cognizant of the trap she ran into. It seemed she hadn’t noticed Cassiopeia’s presence until it was too late. 

Stepping next to her, Orion looked down at his cousin. His eyes were merciless with no hint of warmth. They shone like shards of ice. “Maybe you thought it would be fun to antagonize us again and play the brat. Or perhaps…You don’t value your magic as much as you let us think.”

Hespera read it in Walburga’s eyes. Finally, she understood that she had no chance to begin with.

Everything that happened in the past and the semblance of power she derived from the promise Arcturus made to Pollux meant nothing since the night Hespera barged into their lives and forged an alliance with Orion that blossomed into more.

It was nothing but her wishful thinking for Orion had been waiting for this moment knowing it would come eventually.

She was by no means meant to survive after what she did to Sirius and Regulus. And even though this Walburga hadn’t committed the heinous crimes he extracted from her memories yet, it made little difference to Orion.

She was not meant to be a part of the future they were building together.

Because…

First and Foremost Orion was a Black and a Black never forgets or forgives.

Vicious revenge ran hot like blood in the veins of every member of the esteemed family.

“Orion…” Hespera smiled, her heart beating faster overwhelmed by a myriad of emotions.

Yes, this woman was the one who brought the downfall of House Black. She was walking the same path leading to a certain doom.

“Unlike my father, I will give you a chance,” Orion said slowly. “Just one. A duel.”

Cassiopeia scoffed. “She’s no match for you. Look at her, even her posture is wrong.”

“Set her free,” Orion said. The tone he used was one Hespera recognized well.

It was the tone he used in the Wizengamot or while negotiating with potential business partners.

The voice of Heir Orion Arcturus Black.

Cassiopeia shrugged and twirled her wand carelessly. “As you wish, Heir Black.”

“I want to fight your fiancée.” No matter how much she tried to look unruffled, Walburga’s voice was brittle and weak.

A cruel smile tilted Orion’s lips. “I’m afraid you can’t be granted your wish. Blacks take care of their own.”

With that, he threw the first spell. “Iactare.”

Walburga gasped as she was pushed back with an invisible force.

Orion had her where he wanted her at last.

Far away from Tom and Osmond Parkinson.

Dorea exchanged a look with Cassiopeia and joined the pair, watching without intervening. 

“Well, well, cousins’ quarrels. A most fascinating thing,” Tom drawled with a calm he didn’t feel. She noticed the way he clutched his wand tighter.

“Master,” Osmond said tersely. 

“Do not intervene.” His eyes darkened when her wand sent sparks flying from the tip.

A long pause drifted as they took another step towards each other. 

Even Cassiopeia understood how important this moment was for her and turned her diamond gaze to Osmond, Burke and Jugson instead. “Three sounds like a good number. What do you say, gentlemen? Would you like to provide this lady with some entertainment? I was awfully bored as of late,” she said simply.

“Wha-“ Jugson’s brows furrowed together but it was too late.

Shadows danced over Cassiopeia’s sharp features as she threw a Bloodcurdling Curse he barely managed to sidestep.

With a laugh, she started duelling the three wizards at once, her movement swift and deadly.

Osmond gasped when her Cutting Charm made his forearm bleed profusely but he gritted his teeth and started conjuring shields instead.

“So I heard you’ve been courting Walburga,” Cassiopeia tsked. “What a pity. You don’t seem like a capable wizard. What made you think that you could ever become a part of House Black?”

Hespera shook her head and looked at Tom. “I know what you are planning Tom Marvolo Riddle. If you find solace in these delusions, then, by all means, keep believing them, but the reality is the following: You will never become the sovereign of Magical Britain. Your Pureblood Movement is doomed to failure because guess what…I won’t let you.”

His face was contorted with fury when he hissed. “Why do you know so much about me? Who are you?”

~I am your worst nightmare.~ She answered in Parseltongue and used the momentum to throw the first spell.

'Illusio Anguis.' A huge Basilisk made of black fire materialized and lunged at Tom.

He conjured a water serpent that started battling with her creation. He stood straighter, a shimmering rage shining in his eyes.

Hespera was well acquainted with that look.

Tom Riddle hated nothing more than being kept in the dark and for him, she was an unknown; a riddle he wanted so desperately to solve.

The two serpents coiled against each other.

Fire against water.

Hespera didn’t use Fiendfyre like Voldemort did in her fifth year. The spell was one she leary from the Peverell Grimoire.

Water could not extinguish black fire.

Tom tightened his hold on his wand and she smirked. Without sparing the two serpents a glance, she lifted her hand and a sliver spear sliced through the air on a deadly path for Tom’s heart.

His nostrils flared.

It was common knowledge among Wixen that Wandless and Wordless casting were so hard to learn and master. Add to that, conjuring animated silver objects while channelling enough magic to control the serpent was not an easy feat. It was unheard of.

Chattering and whispers filled the air and Hespera realized with a jolt that many villagers became aware of the raging fight.

They stood in the shadows watching with bated breaths as the two parties fought. Some of them joined the fray.

Tom waved his wand blindly in the air and a huge boulder materialized, shielding him from the spear. But…

His water serpent crumbled due to the lapse in attention. It clattered to the ground and became a small stream.

He could not sustain the two spells at once.

Which seemed to infuriate him further.

Slowly, Hespera lowered her hand and his cold eyes followed the movement.

They narrowed for a fraction of a second before they reverted back to normal.

He lowered his head in acknowledgment then lifted his wand again.

Tom might be many awful things, but he was a gifted wizard. He recognized talent and power when he saw them.

And he knew that he was not facing a simple opponent.

He jutted his wand up and Wordlessly aimed an ‘Frangere’ at her wand arm.

Had the spell hit her, her bones would’ve shattered to smithereens. Hespera erected a silver shield that absorbed the spell.

His attacks got more vicious, but he was unable to land a curse on her.

She, however, was playing with him which he knew.

Various arrows of different shapes swirled around his neck, while a Bloodcurdling spell headed for his chest.

He answered with Fiendfyre. Shapes ranging from serpents, Chimeras, dragons and direwolves surrounded her. She didn’t move. 

What no one but Orion was aware of was that in this world, she was a Gryffindor from her father’s side.

Her grandmother was Aurelia Gryffindor Peverell, the only daughter of Laird Godric Gryffindor. Clan Gryffindor was renowned in the Highlands for birthing Fire Elementals for centuries.

Hespera had been working with Cassiopeia and Orion on mastering the Element she’d been gifted.

She was not in full control of fire yet but she knew she would achieve that with more training and hard work.

She placed both her hands palms first and looked at Tom.

He blinked when flames started dancing over her fingertips, which seemed to attract the beasts skirting around her.

Silence fell, short of the gasps and noises some onlookers made as the creatures edged closer.

Hespera exhaled when the dragon stepped closer to her first, followed by the chimaera, the direwolf and the serpent.

Without hesitance, she patted their heads, running her fingers over scales and fur and snouts and horns made of hellfire.

“No creature of fire would harm a Fire Elemental,” she smiled broadly. “And that’s not all…” she added cryptically.

A hush descended over the battlefield. It took her a moment to look around and her grin widened.

All the Death Eaters were down, defeated and bound.

Charlus winked giving Tom a provoking look. “Never say that numbers matter more than skill.”

Harfang threw his head back and laughed. “And never say that a Longbottom didn’t guard a Potter’s back.”

“Not that I asked for your help,” Fleamont grumbled.

Tom’s eyes shone like two coals as he glared at his followers.

They bowed their heads but she knew the look in their eyes.

They recognized their imminent death.

It was an odd position for him, relying on others. He was used to being alone, to being apart.

So, unknowingly to them, they’d never secured his loyalty. He probably thought of their defeat as something trivial.

Because if anything Tom had loyalty for no one but himself.

They meant nothing to him.

She looked for Orion but he was nowhere to be seen. And nor was Cassiopeia or Dorea or... Walburga.

However, the sight of his Death Eaters defeated seemed to kick Tom out of his stupor. Because he responded by throwing a ‘Laedere’ at her.

However...Hespera’s whole body stiffened and her eyes narrowed. Her magic responded; always vigilant and doing its best to protect her.

A shield swaddled her as her eyes went to the top of the hill. The path leading to and from Hogwarts.

Dumbledore leading a handful of professors was coming towards them.

Tom too went stone still, his face drained as what could only described as bone-deep hatred.

For a moment, time seemed to stop.

The three stared at each other, strong feelings varying from annoyance to surprise to utter loathing passing between them.

The Mentor.

The Monster.

The Martyr.

The onslaught of emotions wrapping around her throat was so foreign that Hespera didn’t even know how to describe it, except that it filled her chest with a hot ball of resentment.

Albus Dumbledore considered himself the sole hero of Magical Britain and heroes followed rules and thought about the world’s wellbeing. 

Unfortunately, they were shackled by outdated codes of honour and self-imposed morals, and that might work in a black-and-white platonic idealism, but that was not reality…that was not how it worked. 

In life, sometimes, the hero had to turn into an avenger. She had learned that lesson the hard way.

She could no longer stand being the Saviour.

She preferred…

“Dark angel of justice,” Death mused playfully.

She grunted. 

“Tom...It’s been a while,” Dumbledore started in his annoying voice. “Lady Peverell, quite the talent you displayed a while ago.”

She knew what was about to happen even before a gleeful, victorious covered Tom’s features. “I cannot say the same, Dumbledore,” he hissed.

And before the puzzled headmaster could react, Tom freed his Death Eaters.

Their hands shot to their throats, where portkeys were attached to the necklaces they wore. Other than Bulstrode and Jugson who seemed unconscious, they disappeared at once.

The villagers' anguished shouts and curses coloured the air blue.

“Why, thank you for ruining our hard work, Mr Dumbledore,” she drawled, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

Chapter Text

Minister Wilhelmina Tuft glanced up from the scattered papers on her desk with a scowl that drew her dark brows together over her coffee-black, thunderous eyes.

Orion sent Hespera a sardonic glance. Even though Tom had managed to flee, they won.

Lord Robert Bones’ eyes threw daggers at Dumbledore. The latter seemed unconcerned, that until the Minister flipped open another letter and nudged it over to him. “I believe you can read, Mr Dumbledore,” Tuft said tightly. “This is a letter from another villager who witnessed the ambush. All of them are accusing you of helping the leader of the Pureblood Movement escape justice. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“This sounds like a grave and deliberate accusation, Wilhelmina,” he cleared his throat.

The Minister snapped. “There is a clear pattern here, Dumbledore. Twice you thwarted Lady Peverell’s efforts at capturing members of the Pureblood Movement.”

“And I can attest to that,” Lord Bones growled. “Do you remember Alvin Bulstrode and Elias Burke? You barged in, interfered with a DMLE investigation and wasted my precious time. More importantly, you hid crucial facts from me. I know it was not a simple ambush.” His accusatory went to Hespera but she remained calm and composed.

“Let me ask you something, then,” Tuft crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you or did you not know beforehand that your previous student was the mastermind behind this criminal organization?”

“Well, I heard rumours,” Dumbledore sighed. “Nothing was certain. I reckoned it would be better if I reached for Tom first. He lost his way and could no longer make the difference between right and wrong.”

“Excuse me?” Bones roared. “We’re discussing a madman, a murderer who had no qualms about attacking defenceless people. If not for Lady Peverell and her company….I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened to the poor villagers.”

Bones rubbed his forehead and then narrowed his eyes at them. “But how did you know there would be an ambush last night, Lady Peverell? Heir Black?”

“We were visiting a friend when we noticed an unusual movement in Hogsmeade. Hespera’s magic inadvertently summoned Lord Potter who was at the time enjoying a relaxing evening with Lord Longbottom, Mr Charlus Potter and his wife and my aunt; Miss Cassiopeia Black. It happened without much consideration, truly.’’

“Lady Peverell’s magic, you say,” Lord Bones didn’t sound particularly pleased but he wasn’t daft to question the Heir to House Black’s testimony.

However, it seemed he wouldn’t stop stewing over being kept in the dark. Twice.

“The Peverell magic is rumoured to act in the most curious ways,” Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully.

Hespera’s smile was too sweet. “Most importantly, the secrets of my Family Magic are private. No strangers are allowed to pry.”

“Of course,” Dumbledore muttered unhappily.

“You should be worried about your standing now, Dumbledore. I cannot protect you anymore. There are more witnesses than the Ministry could ever contain and most of them are furious and cursing your name. I caught some rather creative expletives,” Lord Hector Fawley’s brow furrowed. “Albus, I’m afraid that your reputation is not as spotless as it used to be. As far as I know, you have to answer for what you did last night but before that,” he exchanged a glance with the Minister before he added in a stern voice. “All your titles are stripped from you except your position at Hogwarts. You are no longer welcome to the International Confederation of Wizards before we get to the bottom of this. Also, starting today, you are no longer the Chief Warlock.”

As the silence drew out, Orion could hardly hide his satisfied grin.

His heart drummed loudly in his ears when the man who ruined his fiancée and his son’s lives froze, his face bone-while.

He inhaled sharply when Dumbledore’s Aura became marred with darker veins. 

Hespera seemed to catch on the change right away. She tightened her grip on his hand.

“I did nothing wrong,” Dumbledore said coolly. “All I ever wanted was to protect Magical Britain.”

“I cannot judge your intentions but your methods leave much to be desired,” Minister Tuft hissed. “And now, in addition to the upcoming trials and the chaos that would undoubtedly ensue when I lead the legal proceeding against some of the most prominent figures in our society—oh wait, I have to deal with the enraged inhabitants of Hogsmeade and the reporters sniffing around, too. So thank you. You’ve been a great help.”

“Wilhelmina—“ Dumbledore’s tone was light but persistent. 

“It’s Minister Tuft!” she jumped to her feet. “I will no longer take your lack of respect. So, until the trials start. I no longer wish to see your face. I would advise keeping a low profile. Sticking to your quarters in Hogwarts for the time being sounds like a good plan.”

Hespera shot him a conspiratorial smirk and adjusted the lapels of her robes primly. “Since I believe that neither of us is still needed here, Minister Tuft, I’ll let you know that all my family members will give their testimony gladly during the trials of the Death Eaters we caught. We won’t let them escape justice. You have my word as Lady Peverell.”

“But—They cannot leave yet! They hadn’t answered—“ Lord Bones’ heated objection tumbled out too quickly from his pressed lips.

“Robert,” Lord Fawley sighed. “We understand that you still have many unanswered questions. But you cannot interrogate Lady Peverell in the Minister’s office. Moreover, please remember that she’s not a suspect. She’s not the enemy.”

“Lady Peverell had a long night and suffered a great disappointment,” Tuft said curtly as she glared at a stoic Dumbledore who refused to budge.

“We absolutely do not mind appeasing Lord Bones’ curiosity. Not now, though. My fiancée and I are weary,” Orion offered agreeably. “We’ll be looking forward to the trials.”

With a nod, they made for the door knowing that a long argument was about to start between Dumbledore and Minister Tuft.

Not that it would save him. His reputation was irreversibly tarnished.

--

Arcturus shook his head. “I still can’t believe that a daughter of House Black would sink so low.”

“Not to forget that you agreed to the Betrothal Contract between her and your son. If not for Hespera…” Melania said slowly, tears threatening to spill from her sad eyes. “I don’t want to imagine how our son’s life would’ve turned out had he married her.”

No matter how much time she spent surrounded by ruthless, vicious members of House Black, his mother was a kind woman with a heart of gold. A Hufflepuff through and through.

He didn’t need to ask to know it was what made her irresistible to his cold father. He saw it in his eyes every time he looked at her.

“That’s a calamitous thought,” Cassiopeia huffed. “That brat is not fit to darken Grimmauld Place’s door. Good riddance.”

“That smile on your face is scaring me off,” Regulus who had joined them for dinner shuddered.

“Please,” Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. “You are jealous because you weren’t there when Orion showed her the repercussions of becoming a Mudblood. Walburga betrayed the Family Magic and was it up to me, she should’ve paid with her soul.”

“We do not kill our own,” Arcturus said savagely. “And we do not let strangers deal with our own. You did well, son. We have to make sure that the news of Walburga’s betrayal doesn’t reach the bloody reports. The last thing we need is a scandal.”

“Already taken care of,” Cassiopeia smirked. “You are welcome, cousin.”

Arcturus concluded the discussion with an irritated motion of his hands and invited everyone to take their supper before it got cold.

Orion didn’t blame him. It was a sensitive subject his father didn't wand to dwell on.

His cousin’s betrayal and the pain he caused her left a sour taste in his mouth.

Unfortunately for Walburga, Orion Arcturus Black had been conditioned to discern any danger to the family and act swiftly and accordingly.

He remembered the moment he pushed her away from the fight and ordered her to take her wand out and defend herself like a proud Black.

When she understood that there was no way out, she paled and flinched instinctively.

He was Heir Black. No member of his House could attack him without getting retribution from the Family Magic. The Black Magic would always protect the Heir. He was her priority; the one trusted with safeguarding it, nourishing it and passing it to his eldest in the future.

She let out a breath and tentatively tried to plead with him with her deceitful eyes.

Orion was past listening to her lies. He threw the first spell, a Bloodcurdling Curse that made her shudder and try to conjure a shield.

A feeble shield that could not take the onslaught of the pure, undiluted strength of the Black Magic.

Her shield crumbled like stardust and she sunk to her knees.

“You are lacking so much,” Cassiopeia tsked. “A disgrace to your name. Lord Hyperion the First must be rolling in his grave. A weakling like you should not be related to us.”

“How could you?” Dorea’s voice contained a blade-like ferocity. 

“Because I hate you!” Walburga screeched. “I hate you, all of you. You are too perfect, too stifling, just…too much. Arcturus snatched the Lordship from Father and then rendered him utterly powerless. Regulus is the best Potion Master in Europe. Cassiopeia is a bloody Necromancer, the first in five hundred years. You are a Healer. Even Alphard that sickly bastard is Regulus’ first Apprentice…He managed to invent a cure for Lycanthropy, can you believe that?” She started cackling like a madwoman. The sounds that left her throat were hollow and scratchy.

She pointed a finger at him. “And let’s not start with you. Orion, Oh Orion…Perfect, cold as ice Orion, untouchable Orion….The Heir, Arcturus and everyone’s favourite. Do you believe you deserve all this when you are supporting creatures and Half-Bloods? When you are nothing but a puppet? How dare you betray me and choose that harlot with a shady past over me? Me, your cousin? We could’ve been great together. I would’ve helped you see the light and step out of your father’s shadow. But no, Orion does what Orion wants. Even break his word to his cousin and make her an object of ridicule.”

“Walburga…” He hissed. His eyes narrowed when she snatched something from her pocket and threw it at him.

A dagger.

An undoubtedly poisoned dagger.

A shield of pure Black magic swaddled him like thick smoke. The dagger disintegrated and disappeared.

“You fool!” Cassiopeia snapped.

Orion felt the moment the Grim took full control. He made a leap that was in no way human and as he did, hard as still claws sprouted out of his forefingers.

He slashed her throat leaving three marks in the process and she gasped.

“I declare thee Noname, shame of my blood. Thy nay longer hast the Black name or the Black magic. Begone traitor.”

Appearing to struggle to take her next breath, Walburga clutched her throat. Smoke left the marks as they healed before Cassiopeia and Dorea’s wide eyes.

Walburga’s face was sticky with tears and sweat as she lifted it to him.

At that moment, he remembered his son’s pain and desolation.

“Find your way in the Muggle World for you are no longer part of our world. I made sure that you cannot say a word out of place. The moment you pass the wall, you shall never come back. So Mote Be it.”

With that, he condemned Walburga to a fate worse than death.

Stripped out of her magic and prestigious name, she understood she had become nothing.

A Noname.

“Orion,” Hespera prompted, worry marring her angelic features.

“I’m fine, my dearest. I’ve never been better.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

Orion went still the moment she stepped into his room. 

“You came,’’ he whispered and reached for her, his voice thick with emotion as he glanced at her intently.

“You need me so I’m here,” Hespera ran her fingers through his dishevelled hair and brushed his temples with her lips. “You are thinking about Sirius and Regulus.”

“I am.” After a moment, he spoke softly. “Is it strange that I mourn them even though they’re not my sons yet?”

“Not at all,” she stared at him, transfixed by the light, glittering eyes that held her captive. “I miss Sirius too."

One of his arms slid around her waist, while he used his free hand to smooth her hair, and then she was breathing in his woodsy scent and sighing as relief flowed through her.

‘’You are hurt because of what happened last night. Contrary to what others think, you don’t find pleasure in bloodshed and torture. Just like me,” she said and the motion of his hand on her back paused as he absorbed her words.

“I would do anything for my family.”

“I know. I’ve never doubted that. Not once. Even before I came here,” she said patiently. “I knew all along it was Walburga’s doing. That vile woman is so evil.”

“It’s not important now. She’s gone for good.”

“She’s gone,” she spoke with chilling softness. “If by a miracle she finds a way to come back, I will tear her limb from limb. She tried to murder you.”

Orion drew his head back to look at her enraged face. “And it bothers you even knowing she would’ve never succeeded?”

“How could you…” she gasped. “You are mine to protect.”

He smiled and cradled her face in his palm. “But I can protect myself, my dearest.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “I will always protect you.”

“Then do with me what you will,” he said in a deep, raspy voice.

He kissed her neck, his hand circling it with his hand then kissed her lips and slid his tongue inside her mouth.

Hespera moaned and ran her hands over his chest. “No one else will touch you like this.” She laid one hand over his heart. “Will love you like this. You are mine Orion Arcturus Black.”

The words were heartfelt, and they were true. She was his and he was hers, now and forever.

He lifted her into his strong arms, never breaking the kiss as he laid her on the bed and covered her with his body. She broke the kiss, gasping for breath then went still.

“He’s here,” she groaned.

“Merlin’s Mercy,” Orion growled and black bled into silver. “I’m going to find a way to kill him before this goes any further. I don’t care if we need his services. We can find other ways to end Tom and Dumbledore.”

“As sweet as your words sound,” Lothaire’s tall figure disentangled from the shadows. “I’m afraid you won’t find gratification any time soon. I am…unkillable.”

“And a voyeur,” Hespera glared at the smirking Vampire as she did her best to compose herself. “Would it kill you to announce your presence or send a word before barging in?”

Lothaire’s ash-white hair and all-black attire gave him a dashingly vexing air of superiority.

He took sure strides toward the chair and sat with the ease of a king.

“My dear Hespera, I missed you,” he winked.

Orion shook his head and she snorted. “Try again.”

“I missed playing games with you,” he grinned, showing his lethal fangs. “I witnessed what happened in Hogsmeade and while it was fun, I am not thoroughly entertained yet. But…I found a new…” he tilted his head as if looking for a word. “Fixation? Toy? Tom is angry. Not that it matters. Let him torture some minions for a while. However, I came with good news.”

“How good?” Orion said slowly. “I‘m eager for all this to end. Maybe you can go back to your castle and find a new…fixation."

“Doubtful,” Lothaire waved him off. “Not anytime soon.” He feigned interest in the window as he started. “I came to the conclusion that for things to get better for Vampires—and please note that I do not care about mangy Werewolves, not at all— Magical Britain needs a new system but most importantly; a new ruler.”

“We don’t have absolute Monarchs in Magical Britain. Ministers are elected,” she heard Orion’s intrigued voice.

“Semantics,” Lothaire huffed. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a king, a queen or a Minister. What matters is who makes the important decisions.”

“And?” Hespera asked.

“First, I will help you take Dumbledore down. You won’t need my help to end the Pureblood Movement—Maybe you’ll need it a bit with Tom but I’m ever so eager to see him crumble like the weakling he is. And then, you will become heroes, saviours and all the disgusting names fools call those who are superior.”

Hespera swallowed and exchanged a look with Orion. In a strange way, Lothaire’s words made so much sense.

She abhorred attention but it seemed it was her destiny to become the revered Saviour no matter where she went.

She glimpsed interest in Orion’s eyes and smiled.

Unlike her, her fiancée was an ambitious man. He understood that more power meant more protection for his family.

“You want to tell us something,” she said instead.

“What do you think about taking a trip to Nurmengard?” Lothaire regarded her with an unblinking stare. “The weather in the Austrian Alps is surprisingly inviting. More importantly, I met an interesting man in Nurmengard Castle.”

“Surely not…” A choked giggle was snatched from her throat.

Of course…How hadn’t she considered that?

“Mr Gellert Grindelwald is a very engaging man. Unhinged, murderous, stubborn but highly recommended to deal with Dumbledore.” Lothaire shrugged with a sinister smile.

Chapter Text

The thought of facing Dumbledore‘s lies again made Hespera’s magic rage with the need to blow something to smithereens. Preferably his lying arse.

For as long as she could remember, there had been only one role model for her; only someone she worked hard to please.

Him. Her previous Mentor.

She remembered when she first got her hands on a copy of Rita Skeeter’s book: The Life And Lies of Albus Dumbledore. As she read parts of the book in the seclusion of the tent, something kept nagging at the back of her mind; something she couldn’t put her finger on. So much was going on at the time; the Horcruxes, Ron’s abrupt departure, Hermione’s heartbreak and the nightmares…

Hogwarts Battle came not long after and once again, she was denied the truth.

But not anymore.

They resumed walking, continuing their way along the slippery rock pathway and onto the foot of the mountain.

Nurmengard was uniquely situated in the Austrian Alps between two steep, remote mountains of the long chain. Nothing connected it to civilization, getting there without a guide was utterly out of the question.

“Ah...How I have missed fresh air.” Amusement tugged at Lothaire’s lips as he teleported beside her. He lifted his face to the sky and looked at the snowflakes.

The towering mounds of the mountains were covered with a blanket of snow. They seemed to fade away perfectly the further they were. Fog clung low to the valleys giving off a smoky appearance.

Orion seemed inwardly annoyed with Lothaire’s laxity. “I wouldn’t call this frigid air fresh,” he remarked without ardour. “Couldn’t you teleport us inside of the castle instead of taking this long, bone-freezing course?”

One could hardly miss the sly teasing in Lothaire’s demure tone. “Had you asked nicely, I would have considered that out of the goodness of my heart. You call the Alps freezing? This is the most ridiculous jest I heard in decades. You are welcome to visit Castle Helvita where I grew up and enjoy Siberia's warmth.” His dazzling smile, fangs and all, returned with a chuckle when Orion pursed his lips in blatant displeasure.

“But why Nurmengard?” Hespera asked in a feeble attempt to brighten the charged air.

“Don’t you know? Grindelwald built the castle first to hold his opponents. It served as headquarters for his and his Alliance during the Global Wizarding War as well. Dumbledore thought it would be hilarious to imprison him in his own…prison after he managed to defeat him and usurp the Elder Wand. He was certainly kept fed and alive all these years, after all the Leader of the Light is not a murderer.” Lothaire snorted.

“Why does this sound so familiar?” she muttered. Her scattered thoughts came to a halt when the shadow of a castle loomed over them. A behemoth of stones at the edge of the tallest mountain of the chain that dwarfed everything that surrounded its base. It had a cone-shaped top that challenged the sky itself and must have served as a watch tower.

The darkness swaddling the fortress would make a lesser Wixen question their sanity; surprisingly it did not dampen her spirits. A smile curved her lips as the swell of the Peverell Magic rose inside her.

“He used the Elder Wand for over a decade,” Death remarked reflectively. “Strangely, she wasn’t as adverse to him as she was to Dumbledore. He never won her full allegiance considering only a Peverell could bond with her but...she respects his power. She is more attracted to Wixen with Dark cores, not to forget, Grindelwald was among the few who recognized the Elder Wand for what she was. She’s not merely the strongest wand in existence, crafted from the deepest root of the Elder Tree. She carries my blood, my might and my legacy. Only a fool would consider something mine of mine a tool to accomplish their pitiful goals.” There was no small amount of anger in Death’s voice. It was the first time he exhibited this much emotion.

“So what happened? Why did he become the tyrant we all know?” she asked cautiously.

Death mulled over her words for a moment. “Needless to say, he was not strong enough to resist the allure of darkness. The Elder Wand is a double-edged sword. She enhances the Wix’s performance and makes the spells they cast tenfold strong however, she depletes the core quickly. Like every vector, she needs a bottomless pool of raw power to channel. And this is where the most important thing that makes all the difference comes. Gellert Grindelwald was an accomplished wizard, resourceful and bright but not strong enough to control the Elder Wand.”

“The Peverell Blood.” Hespera flicked the wand and examined the two conjoined spheres forming the handle.

“Exactly. Everything is about balance. Life and death, Light and Dark, the Living Realm and the Underworld. The day your ancestors gave me their word to protect my treasure to the best of their ability, an unbreakable pledge signed in blood and magic was forged between us. A Wixen’s vow is holding and my word is law; eternal and unaltered. The Elder Wand was waiting for you, Hespera. Look after her well.” Death’s voice came tender and gentle and she nodded absently.

The Death Stick reacted strongly to the small gesture. Coldness slid beneath her skin and gathered around her heart. Curiously, it didn’t bother her. Instead, it made her feel warm, even loved. Her core tightened and thickened with unfiltered Death Magic.

A long hand curved around her shoulder. “Hespera?” 

“Orion....I’m fine....”

Lothaire stared at her fixedly. “Your wand is reacting to her previous master’s nearness. But congratulations, the bond just clicked into place. You have nothing to fear. No one will take her away from you.” His pale brows arched mockingly when she clutched her wand tighter.

Had she been really worried?

“Peverells are a possessive lot as they should be. They recognize the Deathly Hallows for what they are: their burden and their privilege,” Death explained and she was overcome with emotion.

Her ancestors had forsaken everything to protect the Hallows. They paid with magic, blood and lives to protect what they were trusted with. All that every Peverell ever wanted was to honour the three brothers’ vow. The knowledge filled her with so much pride.

She belonged to such a fine line of brave, gallant, honourable witches and wizards.

The wind whistled through the Birches that grew along the stone causeway as they made their way to forestairs. The sound was utterly eerie, keeping with the haunting stillness of the ancient fort.

Orion must have sensed her conflicted feelings. Draping an arm around her shoulder, he drew her close as they walked toward the entry. Suddenly, Lothaire lifted a hand and gestured above her. She glanced up and felt her heart slam to a sudden stop.

The Ward Stone.  The Peverell Coat of Arms was engraved at the centre of it.

“How dare he?” she hissed.

“Everything is a game to the long-bearded Mortal with too many names to bother with,” Lothaire shrugged. “He thought it was another means to humiliate Grindelwald and remind him of what he lost. This Mortal is ruthless and heartless.”

Hespera took a deep breath and straightened her Occlumency Shields. She almost regretted letting Dumbledore off so easily during their last encounter.

“Vengeance is better served cold. We are far from done with him,” Orion soothed as if reading her stormy thoughts.

“And you shall start now,” Lothaire clapped his hands together. “I’m afraid this is where I must leave you. For the time being, of course. I have a … matter of utter importance that calls for my attention at the Coven.”

“I hope it’s not another male you plan to annoy beyond reason,’’ Orion sighed.

Lothaire smirked. “As it happens, I heard that my cousin found his Bride. It is my duty as the Elder to meet her and ensure he will get his sickeningly sweet happily ever after,” he said near her ear in a quietly vicious tone before he teleported soundlessly.

“I do pity the Vampires belonging to his Coven,” Orion shook his head. “Much to my regret, we need his help.’’

“I think I came to appreciate his company,” she smiled demurely. “He can be overwhelming and larger than life at times, but he’ll make a good ally and even a frien—‘’

“No,” Orion shook his head vehemently. “Never that. I cannot handle the mere thought of befriending that infuriating, vain being.”

She smiled and moved toward the Ward Stone. She didn’t think as she taped the Elder Wand against the House Peverell Coat of Arms.

The wards dissipated granting them passage and they stepped inside. A deterrent atmosphere greeted them. The fort was eerily vacant confirming her hunch that Grindelwald was the only prisoner in Nurmengard.

Every bit was shrouded in filth. Dust upon dust. The corners were clotted with webs, the carpets blossomed with stains, the floors scarred and buckled.

“Let’s find him and be done with this,” Orion looked around with watchful eyes, his wand at the ready.

A bleak feeling crept through her as she closed her eyes. Her magic brushed against a faint Aura that Orion seemed to find at the same time. Hand in hand, they headed toward the high tower. 

“Who is there?” a raspy voice demanded acidly. “Is that you Albus? Did you come to taunt me again?”

Orion lifted his hand and the door cracked open. They were faced with the pale and malnourished countenance of an lean man. His fragile form was curled on an old chair. The loose folds of his ancient robes couldn’t conceal the stick-thin lines of his body, gnarled like the trunk of a crabapple tree. He appeared barely interested in his surroundings, his bony fingers caressing the edge of a diary he was writing something on.

Right away, she noticed the Magic Suppressing cuffs on his wrists. They were adorned with several Ancient Runes in Old Futhrak. It explained why he remained imprisoned all these years to the point that everyone believed he was killed during the legendary duel.

Without lifting his head, he demanded. “Who are you and what brought you to Nurmengard?”

“We came to hear the truth, Grindelwald,” she said.

Grindelwald’s face betrayed no emotion. “And what makes you think you are entitled to hear the truth, Lady Peverell?”

When she stilled, a scratchy voice left his throat. “Only the owner of the Elder Wand can get inside Nurmengard. It’s Dumbledore’s unique brand of droll mockery. He turned the sole thing I valued most in life into my eternal torment. Even without most of my magic, I can hear her alluring thrills. She remembers me.”

“Well, she was never yours to begin with. And then, you betrayed her. The Elder Wand was not moulded to slaughter Wixen and take lives,” she retorted, her voice teeming with tones of anger.

“And you think you’ll put her to better use?” he challenged.

“I will. As her rightful owner, I know what’s better for her and for the Peverell legacy.”

“You are indeed Lady Peverell. You just confirmed my suspicion, so thank you my lady,” he executed a mocking bow while still writing notes in his diary.

Orion stepped in front of her and she sensed the Grim’s agitation.

Slowly, Grindelwald lowered his quill and lifted his head. “Quite unbelievable.” There was a tremor of laughter in his voice. “Albus spent a lifetime chasing every lead to your family. He took the Elder Wand from me and used every trick he could to infiltrate Potter Manor and find out if the rumours about Lady Iolanthe Peverell’s dowry were true. It’s strange that the last Peverell is after him now. Don’t you think, my lady?”

“Call me Hespera,” she cleared her throat and conjured two seats for her and Orion.

“Hespera,” he savoured the name. “The Evening Star. I like it. Are you planning to become Dumbledore’s downfall?”

“What I am after is justice. Nothing will stand between me and accomplishing my purpose.”

“I used to say similar words many years ago,” he chuckled.

“There’s nothing similar between you and Hespera,” Orion said coldly. “While you lusted after power and fame, she despises them. She wants the best for our world. She wants peace.”

“Another Black,” Grindelwald drawled. “I know your father and grandfather. The same eyes, no one can mistake them.”

Orion nodded.

“Well then, I’m afraid there would be no beverages or fire to warm your bones. Let’s get to the point instead,” he tilted his head to the side.

Hespera waved the Elder Wand and conjured a huge fireplace. With a second flick, a fire started raging, giving the room an ethereal glow.

“I told you what I want. The truth.’’ Her words elicited a hearty chuckle from the haggard old man. Undaunted, she added. “I heard rumours. Quite disturbing rumours about friendship and love and treachery. About two young wizards who were set to conquer the world and separate the Wizarding World from Muggles for good. I heard about a very talented Dark Arts High Master who lost his way and became the thing he used to abhor with passion. He became a monster, a tyrant who had no qualms about slaughtering his own kind. So excuse me if I want to hear the truth from your lips, Grindelwald.”

Despite how collected she looked, her stomach flipped unpleasantly when he regarded her with heavily lidded eyes.

There were so many secrets lurking in the icy-blue eyes. She did not doubt that at his prime, Grindelwald would’ve made a formidable foe and a very charismatic man.

He averted his face, observing the fire with a blank face. “Drawing your wand at someone of your kind without a sound reason is a crime indeed. You cannot, however, blame a crazy man. The allure of darkness got me in its thrall and ensnared my senses after Albus’ betrayal. I wanted to make him pay, make him regret throwing me away without remorse as if what we shared meant nothing. I wanted to show him what I was capable of.”

He shrugged. “We were both young and full of dreams of grandeur. Eager to prove the world wrong. While I grew up in a privileged family in Hungary, I was never fully accepted. I was either too brilliant, too bold or too reckless and then….too Dark. Even Durmstrang could not handle my thirst for knowledge. Albus on the other hand, was born into a destitute family. The desperate poverty of his childhood had engendered a ferocity that had burned out any softer qualities. He had come to revere power and fame with an intensity that verged on zealotry. There was no sentiment in him, no trace of empathy, which I had once foolishly judged as a strength but had turned out to be a weakness. He tended to miss the little clues and signals that people unconsciously gave away in conversation to express their emotions or maybe, he just didn’t care. As a result, he often misinterpreted the other party’s needs and wishes and did as he saw fit. Fortunately for him, he hid his apathy with great performances of kindness and care. His sharp mind helped a lot.”

“So it was all pretence?” Orion asked in a hard voice.

“Maybe he cared about Ariana. That, until it was revealed she was an Obscurial. He blamed himself for not noticing the signs of abuse and then, that remorse turned into a deep grudge.”

“How could he blame his sister for something she had no control over?” Hespera whispered.

“Because he considered her another hurdle that stood between him and realizing his dream. Because of her, his family was ruined. His father was sentenced to imprisonment in Azkaban after he punished the Muggles who had attacked her and revealed the Obscurus growing inside her core. Their circumstances became more dire and he had to work harder to support his family and finish school. He didn’t have the best childhood. When we crossed paths, he was a fresh graduate while I was visiting Aunt Bathilda. He simply enfolded me in every aspect of his life, offering me the comfort I so longed for after the emotional tumult of being rejected repeatedly. To my shame, I was weak and easily malleable at the time. He made me feel as if I had travelled from hell to heaven in the space of a few moments.” He shrugged off the sadness that had crept into his voice. “That was until we managed to locate the owner of the Elder Wand. He became more ruthless, more overtaken by greed until I started questioning myself and everything that tied us together.”

“And how did you become a Dark Lord?” Orion’s tone remained steady.

“Ariana died and he tried to put the blame on me. I didn’t kill her. As a fact, I liked her. We broke up and I went back to Hungary while he started teaching at Hogwarts. Whether or not I wanted to admit it, his rejection hurt. It was when I started succumbing to darkness. First, I found the owner of the Elder Wand and challenged him. I was at my prime, brimming with anger and thirst for power so he was no match for me. I had no intention of slowing down. I started by doing everything I planned for years with Albus. I wanted to drive a wedge between the two worlds and erect that separating wall forever. Only, I used questionable methods. There was no kindness in me; no care for anyone’s welfare. All I wanted was to win.”

“And that's how the monster was born,” Hespera suppressed a sigh, directing a cool stare at the previous Dark Lord.

“Not entirely at the beginning. But when I saw the opposition I faced from the people who had started following me, it put me on my mettle. I couldn’t bear anyone telling me what I couldn’t do anymore. So, I decided to rule with fear.” His gaze shifted. “That’s when the monster was born.”

“You wanted to attract his attention but you didn’t get it straight away,” she said slowly. There wasn’t a lot left to tell but it saddened her that another brilliant wizard who could’ve been a great asset to their world embraced the darkness just to spite the man he loved.

Was Grindelwald blameless? Absolutely not.

Could he have been saved? Maybe….But it was too late to tell.

“The bastard denied me even that small courtesy, can you believe that?” Despite his blank face, his voice throbbed with outrage. “He didn’t give me the duel I wanted until he was certain I was too far gone. Until every cheap trick he used to stop me failed.”

“Until the Wizarding World needed a hero, a saviour,” Orion concluded.

“Yes,” he leaned back and regarded his diary. “And I lost the duel because I couldn’t kill him.”

“I suppose he knew that beforehand,” Hespera said, thinking aloud. “He wouldn’t have duelled you otherwise. You were the one who insisted upon another confrontation. You hadn’t made the smallest pretence, you wanted him to see you. In all your glory as the Dark Lord who made grown Wixen whimper in fear at the mere mention of your name. And look what happened.”

Orion kept his gaze on Grindelwald as he continued. “He knew you so well. So he waited until the last moment to take you by surprise and win the wand, eventually. It was all that he wanted from the start. He didn’t care much about the Wizarding World. He was safe in the knowledge that you wouldn’t hurt him outside of a fair fight.”

Grindelwald looked as if he had a hard time wrestling with the gloomy memories. Dumbledore got the better of his pride and took everything from him. Literally. And then walked unscathed.

She had a good idea of what he wanted. What he thirsted for. 

“Why did you really come here?” he eyed them shrewdly. “Because I have a feeling that you know this story by heart.”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “I do. But I have no proof.”

Grindelwald’s hand slid to the diary. “You really ought to come with a warning, Lady Peverell. I shouldn’t be surprised considering the rumours I heard about your ancestors.”

“All we seek is justice,” she answered lightly. “Even for you.”

Dramatically, he smiled and handed the diary over. “Gracious me. It will be splendidly done. With this.”

Orion’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “And I happen to know the reporter who’ll seize this opportunity to bring another legend’s downfall. Oscar Skeeter.”

“It sounds like a wise plan,” Hespera said, suppressing a shudder at the prospect of getting in touch with Rita Skeeter’s father.

“I told you that my sisters do love their little games,” Death cackled in her head.

Chapter Text

Since childhood, Orion Black had undertaken to learn as much as possible from his father about different types of people and how to deal with them. How to manipulate them and get what he wanted no matter how unlikely or impossible it seemed at the beginning. It helped that Arcturus was intent on teaching  all the knowledge he gained through the years to his son and Heir.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us after a short notice,” he drawled. What went without saying was that the prize they promised had awakened the ravenous reporter’s predatory instincts.

Mr Oscar Skeeter’s smile widened. “It’s an honour to have you and your esteemed fiancée, Heir Black. I heard a lot about you but never get the pleasure of meeting you in person,” His voice was smooth enough but the greed in his eyes betrayed him.

‘What a sly man,’ the Grim growled. 

‘’Behave,” he ordered.

‘Not with bugs. They are below my notice. It is a travesty that you dragged us here. The stench is hurting my heightened senses.’

Orion sighed. Was it his fate to spend his years haunted by such a capricious creature? He dreaded the future already.

‘Oh, but you enjoy my company, admit it,’ the Grim mocked. ‘I have good taste. You should follow my example and never lower your standards.’

‘’I am not here because I need delightful company. I need Skeeter. This is a business transaction, nothing more and nothing less,” he hissed through the mental link they shared.

‘Poor me,’ the Grim pouted. ‘At this rate, I might miss Greyback and Lothaire.’

It wasn’t a statement worthy of an answer, Orion decided. 

“Am I to believe that you are interested in an exclusive, Mr Skeeter?” Hespera asked sharply, obliging the excited man to look at her. “You are, of course, to keep our names out of this. We are not particularly fond of unwarranted attention. We have enough of it as it is.’’

Skeeter rubbed his thumb along his dark, stubbled jaw. ‘’I am ever eager to tell my readers the truth and nothing but the truth, Lady Peverell.”

It was undoubtedly a lie. The air crackled with challenge when Hespera spoke. “Naturally. It’s a reporter’s job to tell the truth with objectivity, fairness and accuracy. It is also my job to do my utmost best to help you. Magical Britain had been deliberately provided false information for years. Maybe it is time to unravel some secrets.”

She retrieved the diary from her pocket and held it loosely in her hand. Skeeter’s eyes slew to it, a flicker of excitement in their blue depths.

Orion’s brows furrowed. “Be warned, though, you are not to change a single fact. We’ll know at once and you will not like the consequences.”

“I gave the diary’s owner my word and I don’t take that lightly,” Hespera said with steel in her voice. “There is no place in my life for lies and trickery.”

Skeeter hesitated for a moment before he shot back. “Then why all the secrecy?” his gaze went inadvertently to the diary. “I mean no offence, but what ties do you have with Grindelwald? Why the sudden interest in Dumbledore’s past? Please, don’t take this the wrong way, however, all this mystery has me worried. For all I know, you are hatching some kind of plot to destabilize our society.”

Hespera paused. Orion wondered if she were considering hexing the sly man to oblivion. Thankfully, she seemed to decide against it. Both knew what he was up to. He had decided on his course and he would pursue it aggressively to the very end. But Oscar Skeeter didn’t win his reputation by playing by the rules. As expected, he was sniffing around for more information he could use. Sadly, they couldn’t explain their motives without telling him parts of Hespera’s past which was out of the question.

“There is no plot,” Orion stared at him directly. “If you are not interested, we can always find someone else. You will, of course, swear a binding vow not to tell anyone of this visit. I’m afraid, I cannot leave without one.”

“We won’t be manipulated, Mr Skeeter,” Hespera cocked a fine brow up. “I have quite the experience with reporters like yourself.”

“I didn’t mean to. Allow me to offer my apologies,‘’ he said with a trace of worry, no wonder anxious now that he might lose a great deal.

“No need to apologize, Mr Skeeter,” Hespera said airily, maintaining a nonchalant facade but from the glint in her eyes, it was obvious that she was overly pleased with the outcome. “Let’s make this a profitable transaction for both of us. We’ll help you publish and promote your book. You will get the push you need to launch a stellar career and secure your future. I want every house in Magical Britain to get a copy,” she added darkly. “I want them to read and remember the Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.”

“The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore…” Skeeter looked at her with a light of respect in his eyes and Orion’s chest swelled with pride. “I suppose I will never know the cause of this grudge, Lady Peverell. I understand that Dumbledore stole your family’s Heirloom and unlawfully used it for years but I can’t help but feel that there is more to the story.”

Hespera smiled cynically. “Does one ever know the whole truth, Mr Skeeter? I cannot answer that question. All I know is that the world needs to read every word written in this diary. They need to see their Saviour for what he is: an imposter.” Her gaze was distant as she went on. “I never thought I’d require the help of a reporter. But the Fates are bent on surprising me on every turn.”

“It sounds like you had an unpleasant past with a reporter,” Skeeter’s eyes gleamed with blatant interest.

“I did. I was young and helpless at the time and I had no means to deal with her. She bugged me for months and made an already bad year worse,” she snorted when he stiffened a little at the word ‘bug’. “I suppose she redeemed herself later but, well, I could’ve done without her delightful stories,‘’ She shrugged. “Maybe things will turn out better now.”

Skeeter winced and made a sound of discomfort. Orion studied his face and smirked. “Now that we’ve cleared all misunderstandings, I must insist upon that vow. I need your word, Mr Skeeter and you’ll have our blessing to start writing your book.”

Skeeter adopted a look of wounded dignity, however, it evaporated when Hespera dangled the diary before his greedy eyes. Seeming to realize that it was an unproductive display, he swore the vow to keep his sources a secret.

Orion wasn’t certain if the man realized that he was about to launch a pandemonium of epic proportions. Going by the grin that split his face as he started skimming through the book, he knew very well.

Maybe he was eager to do what Skeeters were most renowned for: ruining reputations and making everyone question their idols.

A heady combination of excitement and amusement swirled in her chest as Lucretia’s words filtered through her. “You mean, Ignatius will ask for your hand tonight?”

The poor girl’s blush turned the colour of a red sunset. “I—I understand if this comes as a surprise considering you and Orion have decided to postpone your Bonding Ceremony. I respect your decision, of course. I would've liked for Orion to bond first, you know. But I—‘’

“But you’ve known the dashing Heir Prewett for years and you cannot wait to have your happily ever after,” Cassiopeia continued sweetly, maintaining her usual veneer of carelessness. “I’m surprised you waited all this time to introduce him to Arcturus considering....” She paused deliberately before she added with a hint of mockery. “He’s been all but courting you for the past year.”

“Aunt Cassiopeia!” Lucretia tried unsuccessfully not to smile but her blush deepened until they felt heat pouring off her. “Ignatius is a gentleman. He treats me with utmost respect.”

Cassiopeia shrugged. “I suppose so or you wouldn’t be introducing him to your father.”

Melania rolled her eyes. “Stop teasing her, Cassiopeia. Her nerves are leaping as it is.”

“Mother!” Lucretia whined. “Are you mocking me? I know you didn’t fare better when you learned that Father was about to ask for your hand.”

In the midst of the playful exchange, there was a tap on the door. Orion entered his sister’s room after waiting for a response. Hespera couldn’t stifle her giggles when he gave Lucretia a questioning gaze then paled when she dropped her head demurely.

He turned to face her, his gaze sweeping over her. He winced when she ginned widely and mouthed. ‘Behave.’

It astonished her that this family was renowned for its coldness. There was nothing cold or unfeeling about the people she was now calling ‘family’. From the moment she entered their lives with the subtlety of a hurricane, she knew that her life was about to change quite remarkably.

Unsurprisingly, the Potter Luck struck again and she found the family she had been yearning for all her life in the most unexpected place. Every member of them had a caring and kind nature despite the many layers you had to uncover to get there. Even Arcturus Black, the most feared member of the Wizengamot loved deeply no matter how unbelievable that might sound to an outsider. Being part of their close-knit brought her a sense of peace she had never known before.

It warmed her to the marrow of her bones to see Lucretia—the sister she never had, the girl who took her under her wing and taught her so much about fashion and etiquette—happy and about to get married to the man she loved. And even though the couple never had children in her timeline, she was sure that they led a life full of affection and mutual respect. She, of course, had every intention of protecting that love and supporting them unconditionally. 

Starting tonight.

“Do you think Father is in a good mood? He said nothing when he received Ignatius’ letter,” Lucretia said sourly.

“That’s because your father seldom lets what he thinks show,” Melania soothed. “He speaks very little, too.”

Cassiopeia gave Melania a disbelieving glance. “Merlin’s Mercy, you should see him when he expresses himself. I hope poor Heir Prewett never sees that.”

“He can be perfectly amiable,” Hespera threw a chiding glare at her Blood Sister. “He’ll like him.”

Orion shook his head and said thoughtfully. “I believe that you are worrying for nothing. Do you honestly think that Father doesn’t know whom you’ve been seeing for the past year?”

Cassiopeia snorted. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her for ages. She’s delusional if she thinks that Arcturus would miss anything that concerns his family. He’s the most protective man I know.”

“Certainly,” Orion leaned and kissed Luctreia’s forehead in a rare show of affection. “So, you have nothing to fear, sister mine. If Father did not consider Ignatius a worthy future son-in-law, he wouldn’t have agreed to have him,” he murmured in absolute seriousness. “I think we shall have a ceremony soon.”

Before he could stand, Orion found himself stumbling back as Lucretia threw herself into his chest and buried her face in his shirt. His fingers slid to her back, soothing her worries and letting her know that her family would always support her.

“And let’s not forget that there would be no Heir Ignatius Prewett to begin with if my cousin thought him unworthy of his precious daughter. He had made it clear that he approves,” Cassiopeia studied her dark-painted nails as she remarked sarcastically. “Allowing him to live is proof enough that he finds him….acceptable.”

“Why, thank you Cassiopeia,” Melania replied wryly. “At times, you tempt me beyond reason to hex you.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try, Melania,” Cassiopeia smirked. “It’s been years since we had a good duel. I think your wand had grown rusty with all the gardening you’ve been doing.” The Black Necromancer’s pleased smile disappeared when a small fire started at the hem of her robes. Hespera, Lucretia and Orion erupted with laughter.

With a wave of her hand, she stopped the fire and repaired the damage. “Impressive,” she stood and straightened her skirts. “You must teach me this spell.”

Melania tilted her head in challenge. “I will if you bring yourself to behave tonight. Don’t scare my future son-in-law witless.”

“My sweet Melania,” Cassiopeia gasped. “I’m always on my best behaviour. Whether others do appreciate my sense of humour or not, it depends on them.”

Chapter Text

Orion intertwined his fingers with Hespera‘s and waited.

There was a touch of bitter viciousness in her pale eyes, a hint of despair and yearning for a revenge she would have soon.

How had anyone ever thought her aloof and unfeeling? No matter how much she tried to keep her face expressionless, subtle emotions played constantly across her perfect features. One merely had to watch closely.

He spanned the short distance between them until their thighs touched, and she swayed to the left, seeking his presence. If it hadn’t been for their audience, he would’ve taken her in his arms where she belonged.

“….I knew I was heading to a trap, but I did not care. I had to face him. Likewise, I had to show him that I was not the weak, pliable young men he met years ago. I wanted to display my power and what I learned all these years, I wanted him to see me in all my glory and understand why I became the most feared Dark Lord in the Magical World…”

Every member of the Wizengamot went utterly still, their expressions not unlike that of someone who’d taken a Killing Curse to the chest. It was hardly unexpected considering the horrors Grindelwald’s Diary hid within.  

“…Albus didn’t disappoint. I was a fool. Of course, the years made him more cold and harsh. Too late, I learned that he spent years working towards this moment. His eyes had never strayed from the prize: The Elder Wand and my ultimate downfall…He illustrated my foolishness and revealed my vulnerably. I was so far gone, the allure of the darkness had me in its thrall and there was no way out for me, no escape. Even my magic did not respond to me as it used to. The Elder Wand forsake me when I betrayed her. It was like I was wielding a simple stick and not the most dangerous relic known to Wizardkind. He allowed me to be misled, waited till I became but a shallow of my past self. When he asked me to the Duel, he had kindled something in me, I thought I lost a long time ago, as the days and nights blended and became colorless and tasteless. I clung stubbornly to my pride, to some mistaken notion that he would fight fairly. How could I forget that it was the same man who murdered his sister in cold blood and sent his nephew overseas knowing that he would not survive the trip. It was the same man who trapped a Phoenix; a noble creature of fire, and held it prisoner. Fawkes belongs to Aurelius Dumbledore; the last Dumbledore to cry a Phoenix. It was never his, only someone as powerful as Obscurial Aurelius could summon one from the Heavens. Albus was not worthy of having one as Familiar…How could anyone presume to know how that man’s mind works? However, I know exactly what he is: A Monster, someone utterly devoid of sympathy. He would trick, lie and even kill to get what he wants. People are but puppets to him; a meaning to an end. They are disposable and interchangeable. There was never a Greater Good, it was always his good. The good of single man called Albus Dumbledore who never forget his dream: to rule Magical Britain and hold all the strings…”

Grindewald’s declaration was as unexpected to Mr Oscar Skeeter as apparently it was to the rest of the audience. He snapped his mouth shut and looked at Minister Tuft, but it was too late. His last words seemed to echo in the sudden blast of silence.

Rule Magical Britain…

Trick, Manipulate, Lie, Kill…

The words reverberated in Orion’s ears. Pounding. Ringing. Tempting him to take his wand out and threw the darkest curse he knew of. Instead, he sat stone still, not daring to allow his emotions to cloud his judgment.

Since the night Hespera appeared in his room and allowed him into her memories, he swore he would have his revenge on all those who dared slight House Black and hurt his kin.

Yes, Sirius and Regulus were still unborn but, in another world, they’d been his children; his blood. And no one was allowed to touch them.

Regulus fell prey to Walburga’s madness, while Sirius withered away in Azkaban like a lowlife.

“Never again,” The Grim roared, its clawing digging deeper into his insides, it was a miracle he wasn’t bleeding.  “My cubs…”

“My flesh and blood,” Orion repeated coldly. “He will pay. Oculum pro oculo, dentem pro dente.”

The Grim hummed, sounding happier than he’d ever been since he had invaded his life uninvited. “Now, you are learning, young Orion.”

Minister Tuft shook her head, as if trying to convince herself that she heard Oscar’s words right. “Mr Skeeter.” Her eyes narrowed on the blond man. “Do you realize the gravity of what you just shared with this esteemed body—and the rest of Magical Britain, if I might add.” There was no mistaking the threat in her voice. “Mr Dumbledore is an honoured member of our society, a scholar first and foremost and a gifted wizard who has devoted his life to the bettering of Magical Britain. Your book will bring so much trouble we can do without considering what we are facing at the moment. You cannot attack a beehive and not expect bees to sting you.”

Oscar’s sugary smile widened, and Orion didn’t miss the hunger in his eyes. “I know from the moment I started writing my book that you will summon me, Minister. I am not a fool. I wouldn’t risk my life if I didn’t know what I was doing. Every word in my book is the truth and nothing but the truth. My source’s integrity is beyond doubt. It was Grindelwald who poured his heart on those pages and divulged everything that went between him and Dumbledore. Nothing is more fearsome than a vengeful man who has nothing to lose.”

Minister Tuft's mouth pursed and everyone recognized the stubborn glint in her eyes.

She wasn’t being difficult. However, she was a politician. She knew that what this book revealed would make everyone question what they had believed in for years. It would make them question the Ministry and every authority in this country and considering they were dealing with a lunatic who wanted to stir another war at the moment, she wasn’t eager to accept the truth readily.

Minster Tuft did not reply, she dropped her head and cast a glance in the direction of Dumbledore’s vacant chair.

Orion saw the defeat in her eyes. As the highest authority in Magical Britain and one of the esteemed members of the International Confederation of Wizards, hesitating at dire times like these was a luxury she could not afford. She had to act sternly and swiftly or risk getting things out of hand. And as such, she did not have time to convince herself of the truth or cling stubbornly to some mistaken notion that would make the Ministry of Magic collapse and the country fall apart.

“She knows she has no choice,” Hespera whispered.

“She does. Nevertheless, it doesn’t make it any easier,” Arcturus chimed in before he could say anything. "With power, comes great responsibility. Thousands if not millions of Wixen’s lives depend on what we do in this chamber. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Queen of England, sitting on her throne, heard of what we are dealing with as well. This is no small matter. We’ve been royally misled by a very cunning imposter.”

Hespera blinked, as if she was grasping the enormity of what was taking place in the Wizengamot Chambers.

Lord Hector Fawley cleared his throat. “Head Unspeakable Rookwood confirmed that what Mr Skeeter published is the truth. He swore under Veritaserum. Also…” He hesitated for a moment, then sat straighter. “I took the liberty to ask Lord Robert Bones to see what he can do. If Grindelwald is indeed still alive, we need to interrogate him.”

“But we need to interrogate Mr Dumbledore—who is strangely absent today—first, don’t you think, my fellow Lords and Ladies?” Lord Fulcran Lestrange pushed himself up from his seat to his full towering height. “We cannot sweep this matter under more lies and half-truths. For years, Dumbledore led us to believe that the previous Dark Lord is dead. Not only that, but it seems that we allowed a murderer of his own flesh and blood to rule us; Magical Britain’s elite. That man has no right to step into these sacred chambers our forefathers built to protect our community and lead them towards peace and prosperity.”

“I second Lord Lestrange,” Lord Abraxas Malfoy jumped at the chance to attack the Leader of the Light. It was no secret that Dumbledore had been a thorn on his family's side for years. Malfoys were politicians and businessmen; it was what they did best. Orion lost count of how many transactions and proposals the older man had intercepted and ruined.

“As much as it is hard to believe it came to this,” Fleamont Potter feigned sadness. “I have to take my fellow Lords’ sides. Our forefathers built the Wizengamot to treat individuals with equitability and impartiality regardless of their status, blood or Core Affinity. The Wizengamot is the embodiment of fairness and integrity, promoting equal opportunities and ensuring that every person has access to law. Albus Dumbledore is not above the law. He’s but another man who failed everyone’s expectations.”

“Even though if I agree with my Blood-Brother, I wouldn’t word it that way,” Harfang Longbottom jutted his chin stubbornly. “We cannot address this matter lightly based on the facts and the evidence provided by Mr Skeeter. I do not appreciate being manipulated and lied to and I believe, none of you does.”

 “This is a blasphemy!” Lord Caldwell Diggory shouted. “How dare you sully the name of the man who spent his life protecting you and building a better future for your children?”

Harfang surged a step forward before catching himself and impaled the shorter man with a hot-eyed glare. “I believe he’d been paid handsomely for his services. No man of his status holds the power and connections he has.”

“You—“ Caldwell started but sank back in his chair as he studied Harfang’s combative stance and clenched teeth.

“He knows better than to challenge a Longbottom,” Arcturus shrugged carelessly. “Harfang is a beast with a wand.”

“That, he is,” Orion nodded.

“Enough!” Minister Tuft banged her gravel, her eyes shooting daggers at them. ”Can’t you hear yourselves? Actions like yours are what will destroy this body. The culprit will be punished accordingly, fear not. There will be no mercy for whoever dared take us for fools.” The murderous gleam in her eyes bespoke her intent loud and clear.

She was going to see this through and hold a trial for Dumbledore.

“Well said, Minister,” Lord Fawley let a breath out, then looked around. “However, I’m afraid that our Aurors couldn’t reach Mr Dumbledore and bring him for questioning. He wasn’t in any of the places he usually frequents.”

Shouts and angry whispers filled the room.

‘How dare he…’

‘Do you think he fled?’

‘What a bastard! He must face his misdeeds and accept his punishment…’

‘Do you think we’ll find him?’

‘But he has his means, I’m afraid…’

“Silence!” Minister Tuft banged her gravel again. “I trust in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and in Lord Bones' ability to bring the suspect.”

“And so do we, Minster,” Arcturus surged to his feet at last, seizing the opportunity.

Orion knew his father was up to something from the moment he received his copy of ‘The Life And Lies Of Albus Dumbledore.’ He had that look in his eyes, the one that sent shivers down everyone’s back and promised severe pain.

“Well, thank you, Lord Black,” the Minister replied incredulously. Of course, she knew that his father was up to something.

Arcturus nodded. “My family has always strived to help the Ministry. It is justice we seek.”

Orion frowned. What was his father planning? He could almost hear the wheels turning in his head.

He stilled when Arcturus and Hespera’s eyes met for a second. The look that passed between them was fast and fierce in its intensity. Hespera’s smile was exasperated but smug as if whatever message they exchanged had been thoroughly entertaining.

“Father?” he said, his voice calm despite the rush of blood pounding through his veins.

He didn’t have to wait long. His father gave him a superior wink and took his seat back.

Hespera rose gracefully and cleared her throat. “I believe I know of a means that can lead us to Dumbledore post haste.”

There were many intakes of breath. He knew that with the kind of power at her disposal, Hespera was capable of achieving unprecedented feats. It wouldn’t be hard for her to find a man who did not want to be found.

She, however, blew his mind and made his heart pound with admiration when she smirked and tilted her head to the side in a challenging manner he was quite familiar with. “The book mentioned the Phoenix. It used to belong to Aurelius Dumbledore; Albus’ Obscurial nephew. Going by what we learnt, Aurelius was Mr Aberforth Dumbledore’s son. The one he thought dead for years. According to my knowledge, when a Dumbledore cries a Phoenix into existence, it carries a part of their soul. It is their magic that summons the majestic Creature of Life and Death. The Phoenix is part Aberforth too. His child had yearned all his life to find his father; his lost family. It is Mr Aberforth’s right to receive the last memory of his son. The Phoenix is lawfully his and if what I know about magic is right,” she cocked a brow up. “I know that Aurelius Dumbledore would’ve wanted his father to have a part of his soul to remember him by. If we summon Mr Aberfoth, he can set the Phoenix free and ask it to bring Albus here for no ward can stand between a Phoenix and its target.”

“And if I might add,” his father’s lips twitched. “He can give us his testimony. After all, he lost a sister and a son to his brother’s cruel machinations.”

Chapter Text

When Arcturus took his seat back, Orion lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss on her knuckles. Hespera smiled. She could not reproach him for the public display of affection or deny him this small comfort and taint his excitement. She knew he longed to rebuild what had been lost in another lifetime and punish whoever had a hand in tearing his family apart. No matter how hard he tried to school his expression, she could see the anticipation written all over his face.

Minister Tuft shouted, bringing order to the chaos that erupted after Arcturus’ bold statement. “Silence!” Hespera thought she must be so tired. No one had expected this Wizengamot session to take such a curious turn.

“Lord Bones,” Lord Fawley exchanged a look with the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

“I’m on it,” the stoic man said. “I sent a word to Senior Auror Atticus Moody to fetch Mr Aberforth Dumbledore from Hog’s Head.”

Hespera had no idea how much time had passed since Senior Auror Atticus left the Ministry’s premises, but everyone seemed restless as they waited impatiently for Aberforth to arrive.

Senior Auror Atticus opened the doors with a bang and rushed inside, followed by a man she knew too well.

Aberforth Dumbledore was way younger than when she met him in her past life, nevertheless he looked utterly worn, with lines of worry on his face and dark circles beneath his eyes. She wished they didn’t have to drag him into this mess, yet she couldn’t deny she wanted to give the man a closure to all he’d been going through.

“He will be fine, Mistress,” Death said soothingly. “He needs this. He needs to have answers. His soul had been in pain for as long as he remembers, I can taste his despair.”

Setting her aversion to hurt the poor man aside, she sighed. “I know. But he never asked for any of this. He lost too much as it is. I’m reluctant to barter what little peace he has for the devastating truth. It might shatter his spirit.”

“Time heals everything, no matter the pain,” Death assured. “No matter how much torment his ordeal has caused it—and it caused him plenty, he will heal.”

Hespera felt another surge of compassion and remorse when the man looked at Minister Tuft helplessly.

For some reason, the look on his face brought memories to the front of her mind. Memories she did not wish to relive now, of all times. She blinked them away and hoped that Orion had not sensed her distress.

Minister Tuft measured Aberforth with her gaze before she cleared the throat. “Mr Aberforth Alaric Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. You have been summoned today before this body because we need your testimony as evidence for two crimes that—as it came to our notice—concern your family. Additionally, the Wizengamot requires your assistance to bring the suspect who happens to be your brother, Mr Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore before us.”

Fury darkened Aberforth’s face at the mention of his brother’s name. “Minister, I have nothing to do with him. We’ve been in bad terms since the night he—‘’ His words trailed off, but everyone guessed what he didn’t want to voice.

“Mr Dumbledore,” Lord Fawley’s expression softened. “Please, let me reassure you that everyone here understands your grief and loss. We would’ve liked nothing more than to leave the past where it belongs. However, I am afraid that we cannot do that in light of the new evidence we acquired today. The future of this body and Magical Britain depends on the decision we will take today. We cannot leave these chambers until our work is done. So I kindly ask for your cooperation.”

Hespera saw the surprise and confusion on Aberforth’s face. They were shortly followed by bitter realization. He held his head high, his gaze fixed ahead. “So you found out that your supposed Saviour is nothing like you expected.”

“I am afraid that we’ve been rendered sightless for too long,” Lord Bones grunted, his expression thunderous. “It pains me to admit that I feel like a fool right now.”

“Please,” Lord Diggory screeched. “Can you hear yourselves?”

“Lord Diggory,” Minister Tuft growled. “If you don’t sit down and stop interrupting this session, I will have you arrested for disorderly conduct. You will be charged for disturbing a trial for high treason.”

“H-high t-treason?” The colour drained from his face, and his eyes grew saucers-wide.

“What were you thinking, then?” Harfang snorted. “Surely your father saw to your education.”

Caldwell Diggory opened his mouth, then thought better of it. His shoulders sagged with defeat and all fight seemed to leave him. No matter how loyal he was to his leader, he knew he could no longer provide alibis or justifications for him.

“Now that Lord Diggory will no longer exhaust our patience, we may move on,” Lord Fawley announced. “Lord Bones, please proceed.”

“Thank you, Lord Fawley,” Lord Bones’ sharp gaze went to Aberforth. “Mr Dumbledore, a new evidence provided by Mr Gellert Grindelwald came to our notice. I do not know if you came across the new book published by Mr Oscar Skeeter, but we verified that all the facts mentioned in the memoirs of Mr Grindelwald were accurate. I would ask most respectfully, what can you tell us about the circumstances that led to the demise of Miss Ariana Dumbledore?”

Aberforth fought to keep his expression bland despite the pain that seemed to swamp him. Feeling a tug of unaccountable concern, she found it impossible to maintain her usual veneer of carelessness.

“I know it was no accident.” There was regret in his face and a dark edge to his voice. “Ariana was….different. Different, but not evil.”

“May I ask you to elaborate?”

“She was an Obscurial,” he choked out before turning his head to hide his expression. “What most do no to know, Dumbledores are not Light. We are Grey. Our House had birthed the occasional Obscurial every now and then. But of course, Albus would never accept that.”

“May I inquire when did he find out about the Obscurus inside her?” Minster Tuft frowned.

“She was ten when she started displaying signs of housing an Obscurus. I suspect she did her best to hide the fact as long as she could. It was an accident. I remember that at the age of six, she was attacked by Muggle boys who saw her practising magic, and, when she couldn't explain how she could move objects without touching them, they attacked her. This accident left her traumatized to the point of rendering her magical core unstable. We thought she’ll never be able to control her magic. My mother refused to let her go to Hogwarts when she received her letter. She feared that Ariana could not adapt to life in a community. Moreover, Albus was adamant that if the Ministry was to find out about the Obscurus, they might ask the Unspeakables to study her.”

“Let me reassure you, Mr Dumbledore, that our department would never do something so despicable,” Head Unspeakable Rookwood spoke. “However, we would’ve looked for ways to help her control the Obscurus. Obscurials are a rarity, and my fellow Unspeakables would’ve liked nothing more than to put our resources at her disposal.”

“I wish I’d know this before it was too late.” Aberforth was visibly shaken and trembling, the expression on his face proof enough that he was at the end of his rope.

Lord Bones cleared his throat. “Very well. Lastly, I ask of you to tell us what happened the day we lost Miss Dumbledore.”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Aberforth hissed through gritted teeth. “I was in my room at the time and suddenly, I was distracted by a commotion. When I hurried downstairs, Albus had Gellert at wand’s point.” He smiled, a smile that did not dispel the sadness and resentment in his eyes. “They were lovers. No matter how much Albus denied that, I’m not blind. What Gellert didn’t know was that Albus is incapable of love. He merely uses people, then discards them. I think that day, Gellert understood that he’d been used. His pride lashed out and demanded he made the man who hurt him pay. What he failed to foresee was that Dumbledore would never fight fair. Most importantly, he was an opportunist. He would usurp any circumstance of possible benefit to see his goals accomplished.” Aberforth took a deep breath.

“He’s one of the bravest men I’ve ever met,” Orion whispered.

“Yes, he is,” she nodded.

“I know that Albus never let go of his grudge with Ariana for getting our father into Azkaban and tarnishing the family's name. He resented her for being different, a liability. His bitterness grew when he found out she was an Obscurial. He planned to apply for a position at Hogwarts then, and considered her an obstacle between him and his dreams. At the time of the fight, Ariana was cowering in a corner. Since the accident with the Muggles, brawls and loud voices distressed her. When Albus threw the first spell, her Obscurus reacted and tried to protect her. Faced by her true nature for the first time, he seized the chance to make all his problems go away at once. He lured Gellert deeper into the room and, under the pretence of defending himself, his next curse hit Ariana at a very close range.” The horror was upon his face as he said the last part. “I knew she was dead when her body hit the floor. Gellert fled at once, and Dumbledore pretended he had no idea how it came to that.”

“Mr Dumbledore, do you solemnly swear on your magic that the answers you gave us are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Aberforth nodded. “I swear on my magic that everything I said is the truth, so mote be it.” A blinding light engulfed him.

 “Would you repeat your testimony under Veritaserum?” Lord Bones asked again.

“Yes,” Aberforth shook his head. “I’ve been carrying this burden for too long. I’m certain that Ariana wants justice.”

“Very well,” Minister Tuft banged her gravel, her gaze roaming over the occupants of the chamber. “As Lords and Ladies of this country and the holders of law and order, you are not to be swayed by sympathy. Mr Dumbledore swore that this is a true and accurate statement. Therefore, I direct Lord Bones as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to keep Mr Dumbledore’s testimony and lay an irrefutable foundation to this case by agreeing to ask the witness later under Veritaserum before counselling with the jury.”

“Noted, Minster.”

“You may proceed.”

Unease crept over Lord Bones’ face when he asked his next question. “Mr Dumbledore, were you in a relationship with Miss Isla White?”

Aberforth forced himself to sit quietly as he answered. “Yes. Actually, she is—was Isla White Dumbledore. We got married in secret.”

“May I enquire, why?”

“Isla was a Dark witch, a Muggleborn. We met at Hogwarts. She was a Slytherin, but I didn’t care. We fell in love and decided to build a life together after graduation.” At that, a glimmer of tears shone is his eyes. “Ariana’s accident happened, and I knew I have nothing to do with my brother anymore. I didn’t want his greed and ambition to ruin the best thing in my life. Moreover, I knew he would never accept a Dark witch, so we married in secret. Isla unfortunately died in childbirth.”

Lord Bones gave Aberforth some time to recollect. Hespera’s body shivered at the thought of someone bearing such agony. Aberforth Dumbledore had all but lost everything he cherished.

“May we proceed?”

Aberforth nodded.

“We have proof that your late wife gave you a son before her unfortunate demise. Would you tell us what happened to him?”

“When Isla died, I was not in a position to raise a child.” Aberforth closed his eyes, his brows furrowed in obvious pain. “I asked his aunt for help and she agreed readily. One day, as I stopped by to visit my son, I found out that they disappeared. I searched for years until all hope was lost. I met him years after but he was so far gone. I—he died way too soon.”

Lord Bones exchanged a look with the Minister before he said. “What if I were to tell you that someone had put your son on the row boat that took him away? One year after his birth, someone asked his aunt to take him to America. He was raised in New York at the Second Salem Church after he was renamed at the Children Register as Credence Barebone.”

Hespera recognized the moment the agony on his face turned to anger. “What!”

“I believe it came to your notice that your son was an Obscurial as well?”

“Yes, I—he was never taught how to control the Obscurus until the parasite poisoned him, but who? Who would do such a thing? He was but a baby…”

“Unfortunately, your son exhibited signs of housing the Obscurus at a very early stage. He was one year old when Mr Albus Dumbledore found out that your bloodline had indeed produced another Obscurial.”

The blood drained from Aberforth’s face, leaving him shaking and bereft of speech.

“I want his head for this!” He roared.

“Mr Aberforth, please. Rest assured that we will get you the justice you seek,” Minister Tuft avowed.

“But first, we need the suspect,” Lord Bones said. “Would you agree to help us bring Mr Albus Dumbledore before tte Wizengamot so we could proceed with this trial?”

“I would do anything, anything to hear the truth. If he had indeed…” Aberforth’s words trailed  off.

“Very well, Head Unspeakable Rookwood, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Lord Rookwood surged to his feet and approached Aberforth, his grey robes billowing behind him. “Before he died, Mr Aurelius Dumbledore did the impossible and cried a Phenix into existence.”

Aberforth opened his mouth in bewilderment.

“Mr Dumbledore, I know of your family’s legend. A phoenix will always come to a Dumbledore’s help in his time of need. Your son was not only an Obscurial, but he had a pure soul, for only one with an untainted soul can summon a Phoenix from Heavens. It is another proof that Obscurials are not evil.”

Every word Rookwood said seemed to tear the poor man in two.

“The Phoenix called Fawkes is lawfully yours after your son’s regrettable demise. However, I am afraid that your brother found a way to bound it to him.”

“Can we—“ Aberforth was hoarse.

“Yes. With the right Blood Ritual, we can break the bond and return the Phoenix to its rightful owner,” Head Unspeakable Rookwood said calmly, unruffled by the few gasps and whispers.

“A Blood Ritual?” Lord Hughes asked in disbelief.

“Do you know anything else that can break such powerful bond?” Arcturus drawled mockingly. “Or better yet, don’t you know that your great-grandfather, Lord Evander Hughes was the one who invented this ritual? He was such a brilliant Runes High Master, I must say. I believe, you should pay your family main vault a visit soon, Lord Hughes.”

Lord Hughes gaped.

Rookwood produced a Ceremony Dagger from under his robes and waited.

Aberforth nodded. Rookwood drew his wand and erected a ward around them. He kept chanting under his breath as thirteen Ancient Runes appeared. Aberforth knelt before him without any argument. Obviously, he was badly hurt, but everyone knew that this invisible wound was nothing compared to the regret and resentment that had haunted him for years.

Most of what Hespera sensed was a deep, abiding sense of loss, an aching emptiness that had stolen the rest of Aberforth’s breath after Head Unspeakable Rookwood’s blade pierced the fleshy part of his palm.

Without thinking, she waved her wand making the wound disappear at once and rushed to him. She helped him stand.

‘’Thank you, Lady Peverell.” The anguish on his face tore at her, but his anger was even stronger.

“You can call the Phoenix now. He’s bound to your blood,” Rookwood instructed.

Aberforth took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Short after, a blinding light of the likes she had never seen burst at the centre of the Wizengamot Chambers. Fawkes’ feathers were brighter than ever. Every move of his wings ignited rich colours from molten gold to ruby red to orange. It was as if he was a burning flame. His keen eyes went to Aberforth and a searing, soulful song filled the room. Without hesitance, he perched on his shoulder and nuzzled his wet cheek.

“Aurelius…. I can hear your voice….” He breathed in a raspy voice.

He turned a determined face to Lord Bones. “Let’s bring my wayward brother for his trial.”

Chapter Text

Aberforth dipped his head and pressed his forehead to Fawkes’. With infinite tenderness, he rasped something. Fawkes nuzzled his bearded cheek and in a flash of blinding light, disappeared.

Hespera folded her arms. “Let’s see if he can weasel his way out of this. Even the old crones he enslaved with his silvery tongue and embellished lies won’t be able to help him.”

“Crones?” Orion turned to her, his expression amused. “My dearest, did you just call fifteen Lords of Light Ancient and Noble Houses who swore their allegiance to Dumbledore, crones? I believe Lord Diggory won’t appreciate being called that.”

She huffed. “As if I care. I’m at the end of my tether. Did I tell you how much I hate politics? I can’t wait for this trial to be over. I want to go home and discuss more plans for the orphanage with Melania and Cassiopeia.”

“But you are a very gifted politician, my sweet. No need to play humble. You were born for this.” There was a savagery to his smile, and darkness in his gaze as he watched her with hooded eyes. He was so much in love with her, at times it hurt.

Hespera bit her lip and without drawing attention to them, wrapped an arm stealthily around his waist. It was entertaining to see her act all prim and proper because he knew there wasn’t a single submissive bone in her body. She was a warrior. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, marvelling at the feel of her magic against his skin. It was like a lover’s touch. Tender. Protective. An eternal promise.

For years, he struggled to be a dutiful son and a proper Heir to one of the oldest and strongest Houses in the Magical World without losing himself in the process, without losing his freedom. The betrothal contact between him and Walburga felt like a noose around his neck. He made it look as if he lost all hope of finding a loophole. Most people would have taken such a surrender as an admission of failure—capitulation, by definition, was the very opposite of success.

Then again, most people did not know the real Orion Arcturus Black. They imagined that the snake climbed the mountain by persisting in the face of unimaginable peril and privation. Not so. A snake that kept going when a storm arose was not successful. It was done for. Only an idiot revealed all his cards when he was cornered.

That was the first part of success: self-preservation and planning. He could teach them that. After all, it was the first lesson his father and grandfather taught him.

From the day he laid his eyes on Hespera Peverell, she had managed to put all thoughts of anything else out of his mind. He would’ve found a way to get rid of Walburga permanently just to be with her. Slowly, she weaved her way through the strings of his cold heart until she became his best friend, his confidante, his woman.

He knew she wanted to make up for past wrongs. And he knew—he knew she would not be at peace until Dumbledore, Tom Riddle and all those who spread bigotry, hate and war paid for their crimes. Sometimes, the best time to launch an assault was right after a storm, before the snow turned to ice. Sometimes you had to wait until all danger had passed. Dumbledore didn’t disappoint. Unknowingly, he gave them the opening they were hoping for when he showed up at Hogsmeade at the worst time possible and ruined everything, making everyone question his motives. He should’ve known better. The Wizengamot was a battlefield. There was no such thing as mercy or forgiveness in politics. One foot put false on and one would come crashing to the ground.

Naturally, he wasn’t about to thank Lothaire for taking them to Nurmengard. He was yet to forgive the bloodsucker for storming into their lives uninvited. Either way, Albus Dumbledore had to go away. He could not be a part of the world he planned to build with Hespera. The world his children disserved to blossom in and continue the legacy of Houses Black and Peverell.

When he heard a muffled gasp, he looked up and was not disappointed when Fawkes returned with Dumbledore.

“I suppose there is no better thing than owning the loyalty of a Phoenix,” Arcturus observed, his voice barely audible over the noise the crowd was making.

Hespera raised her gaze to him. Her eyes were luminous. She was smiling at him, but there was a knife edge to her expression. “Indeed,” she said, her tone solemn. “I can’t recall the last time someone made Dumbledore do something he didn’t want to. It had always been the other way around.”

He felt something too familiar stir inside of his chest. Anger. This was the same man who had turned a blind eye to his son’s suffering. Surely, he knew of the Black Madness. It was a wonder that Sirius had managed to survive Azkaban. Blacks—like the Grim that was part of their soul—were born to be free. Confinement was a fate worse than death.

“True,” the Grim growled. “I would rather drown in River Styx than be confined.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Orion smirked. “I have no plans of giving up anything that belongs to us. I lost so much in another life.”

“What’s the meaning of this?” Dumbledore’s voice was quieter than usual.

Orion bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Was the man obtuse? Or was he trying to gain some time? Either way, it wouldn’t matter. He exhaled and counted to ten, hoping the anger simmering inside him would calm itself before it boiled over.

“If you just let me—‘’ the Grim’s claws snapped out, sharper than any Goblin-wrought silver dagger.

“No way. It is not our place to punish him. Let Aberforth do the honours,” he warned.

The last thing he needed was to undergo his first transformation in the Wizengamot Chambers.

“Mr. Albus Dumbledore,” Minster Tuft’s eyes cut toward Dumbledore, her tone sharp and unforgiving. “I cannot say I am sorry for the means we had to use to bring you here. However, some inculpatory evidence concerning you was presented before this body. The Lords and Ladies have called for an Indictment. You are here to give your oral argument. All your statements will be verified under Veritaserum, of course. A Panel of three Lords from the three Factions appointed by their respective Heads will be assigned to decide the case. Before we begin, would you like to design a Pro Se?”

Dumbledore seemed surprised as he processed the Minister’s words. “I will defend myself. I do not require a lawyer or a third party.”

“Dumbledore….” Lord Diggory’s nails dug into his palm as he gave his leader a short head shake. Dumbledore was the only superior he considered worthy of respect for years, and, therefore, answering to him, and defending him became natural. However, his leader was a fool. His arrogance would bring about his ruin. Unlike him, Caldwell was there when the charges were pressed. He was aware that down this road lay utter ruin. Defeat might be inevitable, but Dumbledore wouldn’t go without a fight. He hadn’t dropped his torches yet, and he wasn’t going to stop trying.

“Minister,” he cleared his throat. “Before we start, may I enquire why is my Familiar not answering my calls? I’m afraid that someone had performed a Dark Ritual and tampered with the bond I share with my dear Fawkes.”

A horrid crack was heard as Aberforth shoved his chair back, his magic lashing out. It blew the wood to smithereens. “Really, Albus?” he said in a surly growl.

“Aberforth?” he did a double take and spoke as calmly as possible. “What are you doing here?”

“What have you done?”

Orion understood how the poor man felt. He was hurt and angry and he was demanding justice. Well, the saddest thing about this betrayal was It did not come from an enemy but from someone he trusted most.

“Mr Aberforth Dumbledore, please,” Lord Fawley’s eyes were filled with compassion as he asked the grieving man to take his seat back. Lord Moody conjured a new chair but Aberforth drifted through the chambers to stand before his brother. Orion could feel the shift in him. He was no longer the man grieving a sister and a son. He was someone after revenge.

“It was you.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. Albus went still. “You took Aurelius away. How could you lie to my face and tell me that you had no idea why he was in the United States? When I found him—when I held my son’s dead body in my arms, when a piece of my soul died, you were there. You comforted me and told me it was Grindelwald’s fault. How could you?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Albus said, the syllables of the words clipped. And then he shook his head and smiled ruefully. “But no matter what you heard, you have to remember that all that I did—all that I do is for the greater good of Magical Britain. I swore my life to serve this country.”

Lord Harfang Longbottom scoffed in disbelief. “Does this greater good entail kidnapping children and killing sisters? You are nothing but a liar and a kinslayer. Shame on you.”

“Lord Longbottom!” Lord Fawley scolded.

Albus’ gaze turned baffled. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yes, we know everything, Albus,” Abraxas Malfoy sneered.

“I refuse to be accused of such heinous crimes.” Albus glanced at the crowd in concern.

“It matters little what you think, Mr Dumbledore. The reins are no longer yours.” Arcturus’ smile simply broadened. “Thanks to Mr Grindelwald’s diary, we learnt a great deal of history. Why? Few things surprise me anymore, but you managed to render me speechless. I congratulate you,” he said, just loud enough to send a murmur rippling through the awaiting crowd. “Minister, if you please,” he said, his voice commanding.

Orion shuddered. Lord Arcturus Black was like winter, but with a warm core on the inside only a few were lucky enough to take a glimpse of. He was the anchor that held House Black together.

Minister Tuft glared at his father—who did not seem apologetic at all—and cleared her throat. “Mr Albus Dumbledore, you are accused of the following: intentionally throwing a deadly curse at a minor—who happens to be your sister, the late Miss Ariana Dumbledore, making everyone believe that you killed Mr Gellert Grindelwald in the duel that took place in Hogwarts’ premises a few years ago when in truth, you held him hostage in Nurmengard and lastly, kidnapping an infant; your nephew, the late Mr Aurelius Dumbledore also known as Credence Barebone.”

“I would also like to add, that due to his intervention, Mr Aurelius Dumbledore suffered a horrific childhood which led eventually to him losing control over his Obscurus,” Lord Rookwood stated calmly.

“We will add to the record that you stole the Familiar of Mr Aurelius Dumbledore and forcibly, bound it to yourself using an Obscure Ritual,” the Minister pursued her lips in disgust. “Bounding a Creature to oneself is illegal according to law number 56, enacted in the year 1798 by Lord Caspian Cromwell, the first Head of the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I’m fairly sure you are quite familiar with this law.”

“And let’s not forget what he did in Hogsmeade,” Fleamont Potter bellowed. “If not for this man, the criminal going by the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle would be in Azkaban by now.”

Orion simply reached down and helped Hespera to her feet in one smooth motion. Albus tensed instantly. His heart started pounding when she looked up into his eyes. Her irises were practically glowing. He stared at her, transfixed. He didn’t mind sinking into the unfathomable green depths from which he might never resurface. Somehow, he managed to look away, severing the connection.

Her fingers caressed his as she directed that gaze to Dumbledore and said coldly. “Over the years, everyone stumbles. Even you. Especially you. No one had expected perfection from you. But you took the hopes and dreams of countless young and unsuspecting witches and wizards and turned them into nightmares. You used their innocence against them and made puppets out of them. So yes, Mr Dumbledore. You are a murderer of their dreams and of your own blood. You are also a liar and a thief. Don’t think I forgot about the Elder wand.”

Dumbledore growled. “It was you?”

Orion glanced around him. The crowd had gone silent—and had drawn in quite close. Everyone was looking at them. Everyone.

She sounded regal and unattainable as she whispered. ‘’Why? I am the future Lady Black. We never forget or forgive.”

Arcturus looked at her with the closest thing to affectionate pride.

“It doesn’t matter,” Aberforth closed on his brother. “It doesn’t matter who revealed the truth and lifted the veil from these poor people’s eyes. I have known you for years, I shouldn’t be surprised but sadly, I am.”

“Mr Aberforth Dumbledore! Please!” Lord Fawley jumped to his feet.

“Let me handle this,” Lord Bones hurried down the stairs.

“I did nothing wrong!” Albus yelled as he took a step back. “How could you accuse me? How could you hold a trial for me, me!” He pointed a finger at the crowd. “You ungrateful…After all I did for you!”

“No one asked you to meddle,” Aberforth reached out and Orion noticed the dark sparks that danced over his fingers. He also noticed the black fog that hovered over his head. He stiffened and tried to shield Hespera with his body.

“Don’t move,” Arcturus hissed. “Don’t intervene. This is inevitable.”

“I won’t let you hurt anyone again,” Aberforth regarded his brother with wry sadness.

“He’s mourning losing the last member of his family,” Hespera sighed. "At least, a part of his son is with him now."

“He lost him years ago,” Orion frowned. “Albus Dumbledore cares about no one but himself.”

“I won’t let you treat me like a lowly criminal.” Albus’ breath was a bit ragged. “I simply won’t.”

“The choice is not yours, Albus,” Aberforth stroked Fawkes’ wing.

“Mr Albus Dumbledore, would you take your seat back!” Minister Tuft bellowed. “You have to wait for the verdict before you stand up.”

“I won’t!” Albus looked around and Orion knew he was done for. He was not a man who accepted defeat. He hoisted his sleeves and lifted his right hand. Everyone knew how good he was at Wandless Magic. Before he could move, Fawkes unruffled its wings and beams of fire shot out of them. They morphed into a huge dome. Dumbledore’s eyes widened in realization when he was confined.

“You are—“ Aberforth shook his head. He looked weary. “The least you can do is take your punishment like a decent man.”

Minister Tuft clapped her graved. “Order! Now that Mr Albus Dumbledore knows that he has nowhere to go, shall we proceed?”

“With pleasure, Minister,” Lord Bones’ flat grin was all teeth. “Let’s start from the very beginning. Head Unspeakable Rookwood, would you administer the Veritaserum, please.”

Hespera looked through the window and sighed. The sky was a vast expanse of jet black. Millions of bright stars dotted on the dark canvass. The thick gloomy clouds shaded over the luminous moon, covering it entirely. Tomorrow, the moon would turn blood red. A Blood Moon heralding the arrival of another Samhain.

Was this poetic justice?

She scrubbed her hand through her unbound hair and closed her eyes as the suffocating silence stretched.

“Mistress Hespera is sad,” Kreacher popped beside her bed.

“I don’t know how to feel,” she hid her face. “He’ll spend the rest of his life in the deepest part of Azkaban with thirteen Dementors guarding his cell. But…Is that enough? Am I happy? I can’t take Aberforth’s face out of my mind.”

“Whoever hurt Mistress Hespera has to pay,” Kreacher frowned. “Mistress can help Mr Aberforth heal. She helped Kreacher regain his sanity and reunite with his mother. Mistress Hespera is the best. She can make anything possible.”

With a sad smile, she caressed his cheek. “I did nothing but drag you into this mess.”

Kreacher nuzzled her palm. “Wherever Mistress Hespera goes, Kreacher follows.”

“I know.” She let her touch linger. "You are a good friend, Kreacher."

"But maybe tonight, Mistress Hespera needs more than Kreacher’s company. Kreacher knows that everyone is asleep. Mistress Hespera can sneak into Master Orion’s room again. Mistress Hespera needs her man.”

As soon as he voiced the words, she realized the idea had merit. A slight blush touched her cheeks and she ducked her chin. “B-but it’s too late. I don’t want to bother him.”

“Master Orion would never mind,” Kreacher smiled.

“Maybe….”

Before she knew it, she was closing the door to Orion’s room. She watched him as he slept, his thick eyebrows, his mouth that did the most sinful things to her heartbeat, his silky hair that fell freely over his forehead. She slipped under the comforter and leaned into him, tucking her face into his neck and inhaling his scent.

She gasped when he tilted his head down and rested his forehead on hers. Very calmly, he said. “I was waiting for you.”

Her eyes grew wide. “How?”

He ran his hand down the side of her face, his touch as light as gossamer. It felt like a beautiful dream. Her whole body seemed to melt away in utter relaxation. “I know that what happened today would bother you immensely. Your heart is pure. You are not a vindictive person.”

His lips brushed hers before they touched her forehead. His hand slid down her ribcage and then his fingers entwined with hers.

“I don’t know what to think. At some point, he was my mentor. The man I looked up to.”

“It’s not your fault. Never was and never will,” he whispered against her cheek.

She screwed her eyes shut and burrowed against him. "I will think about it tomorrow. Let’s not talk about him anymore.”

“With pleasure.” Orion captured her mouth in a sweltering kiss, cupping her by the back of the head. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with avid hunger.

She loved him. So much.

Swallowing her momentary moan, he clasped her to him and rolled them until he was on his back.

When he spoke, his voice was deep. It sent delicious shivers down her back. She pressed her forehead against his chest and smiled.

“In three hours or so, the House Elves and, most importantly, Cassiopeia will stir.”

She lifted her head slowly at that. She couldn’t wait for a lifetime of this—not just kisses and warmth and the feel of his arms around her, but of finally, finally feeling safe. She found her home at last.

He reached down and tipped her chin up. “We will have the rest of our lives to hold each other.”

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting to hold our bonding ceremony. I—“

He pulled her close and stole the rest of her words with a kiss. “Nonsense. I do understand, my love. Your revenge is mine. I don’t want my seven children to grow up in a world where someone like Tom Riddle breathes the same air as them,” he smirked.

She punched his shoulder playfully. “We won’t have seven children.”

“We will.” He kissed the hollow at the base of her neck. “That being said, there is no chance I would forgo the opportunity to share my bed with you,” he reached down again and took her hand, entangling his fingers with hers. “But then, you had already guessed that. Let me help you sleep comfortably, my evening star.” A wicked smile danced on his face, and he glanced out of the window at the dark sky.

His arms enfolded her while his fingers played with her loose hair gently. It made her so sleepy it took no time for her to forget everything and sink into a deep slumber.

Tomorrow was another day. She would be ready by the time the sun raised.

Chapter Text

This is not an update, I apologize.

Someone going by the name of 'Messenger Of The Masses' is posting this story on Fanfiction without my permission. I do count on your help to deal with this shameless thief. If this continues, I will have no choice but to take down all my works and never post on AO3 again. I've been dealing with a lot of unauthorized translations, stealing original headcanons and plagiarism. Enough is enough.

This is the link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14436011/1/Bright-Star-Steadfast-Thou-Art

Love, NinaMaya🤍

Chapter Text

Reflectively, Hespera stared around the room as the glowing afternoon sunlight painted the walls. She loved Grimmauld Place. Who would’ve thought that she would know the greatest happiness of her life in this place; a place where all that was turbulent, chaotic, sophisticated, and calculating, somehow fit together in a perfect scheme. She would never forget how much she had abhorred this place in her past life. It used to be her godfather’s prison and a testament to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black’s downfall. However, she would not let the past repeat itself. She would not allow herself or her family be sacrificed again like poor lambs. All she ever wanted was peace and she was willing to do anything to achieve it. Though she liked to pretend otherwise, she had known the truth of Dumbledore’s treachery since her sixth year. When all was said and done, she was nothing more than a pawn to him. An inconsequential chess piece, and should she ever fail to be useful to his cause, her life would be worthless.

“A bad deed is never lost.” Death drawled. “He who plants spitefulness gathers hate and he who sows treachery reaps my eternal wrath. He was bold enough to set his eyes on my trinkets and look where he is now. I would say, he is not enjoying the Dementors’ hospitality.”

She shuddered and moved to the window, her feet dragging across the carpet. The day was cooling rapidly, and a thin, icy draft of air curled around her body in a serpentine pattern. “I bet you’re enjoying every moment of his suffering,” she scoffed.

“Not yet,” Death answered at once with cold disgust. “If he is man enough to challenge me, then he is man enough to sit there and not weep like a petulant child over his defeat. I must say, he disappoints me. He has seen nothing yet."

As his words resonated in her head, an opaque cloud of pure Dark Magic rolled over her head and with each second the temperature in the room dropped drastically. “Are you trying to freeze me to death?” she scolded in an annoyed tone.

Death chuckled. “My dearest, how can I ever part with you? It took me forever to find you.”

She could tell from his voice that he was smiling as he spoke. “I don’t think I would appreciate it much if I spend an eternity with you in my head.”

She stilled as she felt cold, ghostly fingers caress her cheek like a father would his daughter. “Mistress, I want nothing more than to see you happy and by all that is holy, you shall be pleased. This is merely the beginning,” Death vowed. “Dumbledore was but a small pebble in the way. I confess that I did not want to take the chance of his presence delaying our plans. I hate meddlesome humans the most, not to mention, my minions are giving me enough headaches as it is. Their incompetence knows no bounds,” he added darkly.

Hespera snorted. “You have yourself to blame. You are a cruel slave driver.”

Death’s smoky arms wrapped around her from behind. Lips as cold as ice touched the crown of her head. “That, I admit I am, my dearest.”

“What’s next?” she sobered. “Tom is yet to make another move. He’s lurking in the shadows like the coward he is. I bet Dumbledore’s trial gave him a scare.” The thought filled her with smugness.

“It matters little,” Death tsked. “He has nowhere to run. The Fates had spun the thread of his life, I made sure of it the last time I visited my sisters. All that remains is to cut it off with our merciless shears. However, remember that I did not bring you here to use you as my sword of judgment. I want you to live, to love and to plant the seeds of a bright future for you and for your children. It is not only yourself you have to worry about, you carry my will and the wrath of my name. The core of your wand is a drop of my blood. Do not ruin my reputation, Mistress. I am solely relying on you to make me proud.”

A heady combination of wariness and excitement swirled through her veins as his words filtered through her. “You,” She bristled. “I knew you were a selfish bastard. All you care about is your precious reputation as if any Deity is foolish enough to mock you.” She rolled her eyes.

Death’s chuckles filled her head. “I am certain you are qualified enough to bring me joy and honour your ancestors’ name. Farewell. For now.”

“Get someone else to do your bidding,” she muttered sullenly under her breath. However, no matter how she tried to sound vexed, she couldn’t hide the contentment she felt. Perhaps it was strange, but she came to think of Death as the grandfather she never had. His sense of humour might be dry and galling but she was used to it.

Silence held the air as soon as Death disappeared. She smiled when she heard Orion’s faint footsteps as he crossed the room. He caressed the back of her neck with the tips of his fingers then traced through the softness of her long hair, his touch firm, tender and possessive. She turned slowly and wrapped her hand around his waist, holding tight and hoping she would have many afternoons like this when she could spend a quiet moment with him. Lilting bliss spiralled outward from her fingertips to every part of her body. He dipped his head and kissed her lightly on the lips then cupped her face in his hands and stared up at her with earnest eyes that scorched her. “Are you ready? Mother and Lucretia are waiting for you.”

“I’ve never been more ready,” she nodded steadily, her gaze unflinching. “It’s time to rebuild what Dumbledore and his ilk destroyed with their prejudice.”

“It is amazing how much you did for our world since the night you appeared in my room and made me question everything I know,” he smirked, his bright eyes glowing with animation. His thick black hair was ruffled over his forehead in a silky swath, making her fingers itch to put back into place. “You are wonderful, my love.”

She threw him a brilliant grin, her eyes snapping with satisfaction. “Why, thank you, Heir Black. I appreciate all the support you and your family have shown me. I wouldn’t have done all this without you.”

“But we are far from done.” His arms went around her. “A true Black never forgets and never forgives.” She felt the unyielding strength of the Black Family Magic against hers as he made the vow. The Black Family Magic was merciless and staggering, it could crush any foe easily, yet Orion held all that power in check effortlessly. It was no wonder the Family Magic chose him as the Heir, his control was applaudable.

“I have to stay in control at all times lest the Black Madness claims me,” he whispered against her forehead, answering her unsaid question. “I saw what happened to Bellatrix. Getting seduced by the potency of the Black Magic is extremely dangerous. Like every Dark Magic, it tries to lure people and gives them a heady sense of invincibleness only to make them lose all sense of self-preservation.”

“But you are the Heir, the one chosen by it,” she frowned.

“I am,” he looked down at her. “Which cannot be said for the other members of the family.”

“Is that why Arcturus seems to have little to no sleep? I bet he’s always worried,” she sighed.

Orion shrugged. “Father might seem callous and conniving but he’s worried about the future of our House. His mind is perpetually sifting through a dozen possibilities and courses of action to protect the family.”

“I don’t care what people think of him,” Hespera mused, pursing her lips slightly. “I like him. He’s a great man and his sharp, crafty mind never ceases to amaze me.”

“I know he shares your sentiment,” Orion laughed dryly. “He’s exceptionally fond of you.” They smiled at each other but before their lips met in a soft kiss, a familiar voice cut them.

“And so I am,” Cassiopeia drawled. “If you are done with being all sickeningly in love with each other in broad daylight, I’d like to remind you that we have an Orphanage to work on. I’m afraid that my time is prodigiously expensive.”

Orion loosened his hold on her. “Aunt Cassiopeia, I thought you were travelling.”

“I came back an hour ago.” Her lips curled in a vicious smile. “The news of your latest achievement reached me while I was enjoying my new friend’s hospitality.”

“Should we ask?” Hespera wondered thoughtfully, clinging to Orion.

“Why, I don’t mind, Sister.” A curious smile played on Cassiopeia’s lips. “As it happens, I should thank you for unknowingly introducing me to this most charming being.”

She felt Orion’s body stiffen with anxiety, his heartbeat hammering against her beck. “Who?”

“Well,” Cassiopeia waved his concerns off as she walked lazily to the fireplace and took a handful of Floo Powder. “While I was roaming the manor at night, I, not so accidentally, eavesdropped an argument between you and a stranger. Naturally, I made it my mission to catch him. You cannot imagine my surprise and my delight when I found out that your friend was none other than Coven Master Lothaire.” She looked over her shoulder and smirked. “I’ve wanted to visit the Russian Coven for so long. I appreciate your invaluable help. Thanks to you, I made a new ally.” With that, she stepped into the fireplace. Before she threw the Floo Power, she arched a mocking brow. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

Orion swore under his breath. “That bloodsucker….”

Hespera kissed his cheek and grinned. “Maybe he’s lonely and in need of a good friend.”

“But Cassiopeia?” he groaned, running a hand through his hair and mussing it.

“Why not.” She winked.

Lucretia was sprawled on the sofa in a state that more resembled unconsciousness than fatigue. “This manor is inordinately large. Why are your ancestors so fond of displays of grandeur? Everyone knows how great they are.”

“Lucretia,” Melania admonished. “This is no way to speak of the Peverells.”

“I don’t mind,” Hespera sat next to Lucretia and nudged her side playfully. “And to answer your question, my great-grandfathers were scholars. This manor used to be open to several apprentices and seekers of knowledge.”

“So you are practically reviving your ancestors’ legacy?” Lucretia’s voice was laced with wonder.

“We are.” Hespera clapped her in the back in hearty affection. Orion was amazed at how close the two witches became. Truth be told, all the women of House Black adored Hespera and doted on her.

He looked around. Cassiopeia had disappeared as soon as she stepped into the foyer mumbling something about vicious wards and unruly, ignorant children.

“We managed to prepare fifty beds so far,” his mother clapped her hands. “The rooms are suitable for children. They will find everything they need. Lycoris helped with the House Elves. They are all female with a vast experience in child care. Three of them are Tally’s cousins.”

“Lord Longbottom had helped with the list,” he sat next to Hespera. “He also volunteered to teach the children Herbology.”

“That’s wonderful,” Melania exclaimed, beaming at them, and he felt an answering smile curve his lips. “It would be great to initiate them into something harmless like Herbology.”

“Isn’t that because you love your plants, mother?” he teased. “You can help with the greenhouses, too.”

“Of course, I will.”

“Fleamont and Euphemia offered to help with Transfiguration and Charms,” Hespera leaned against his side. “And so did Dorea. Charlus wants to teach them Quidditch. He even volunteered to buy the brooms.”

“Potters and Quidditch,” Lucretia rolled her eyes. “Uncle Regulus, Alphard and Eileen will take care of Potions.”

“And guess what,” Hespera bit her lower lip. “When the news of the Orphanage reached the Malfoys, Lady Ione sent me a letter. It seems she wants to help as well.”

“What?” Lucretia’s eyes widened.

“Why are you so surprised?” Melania’s forehead creased. “Ione is a Selwyn. She comes from an old House of scholars and great achievers. Had she wanted to, she could’ve taken any position in Hogwarts or the Ministry. However, after marrying Abraxas, she chose to become the driving force behind her husband and help him achieve his political goals. She’s not someone one should underestimate.”

“True,” Hespera’s lips twisted cryptically. “I can see her giving birth to a child with a silver tongue.”

Orion nodded empathetically. He had seen Lucius Malfoy in Hespera’s memories. Unfortunately, it seemed that the bastard inherited nothing of his parents’ skills. He wondered how he became such a disgrace.

He cleared his throat and took Hespera’s hand in his. “Someone else offered to help.”

“Who?” Lucretia, ever the impatient one, frowned.

“Even though he’s busy running the family estate, he volunteered to help find the Muggleborns, Half-Bloods and maltreated children who will eventually occupy this Orphanage,” he explained slowly. “I admit I was sceptical at first but he spoke in humble sincerity. He wants to repent and start anew and I cannot deny him this chance. Family comes first. Always.”

“Well said,” Cassiopeia barged in holding an ancient book. “He’s a sensible one. He does not fancy ending like his most despicable sister.”

“Surely you are not…” Hespera gasped.

“Cygnus is a father now,” he sighed. “Druella is expecting another child. He knows better than to expose his family to danger.”

“He knows that the tide has turned,” Melania interceded in a moved tone. “It took him some time to decide on the side he wants to join but I’m glad he’s back to where he belongs.”

“Most importantly, he’s a crafty man,” Cassiopeia shrugged. “Unlike Pollux, he’s not a pompous git. He can move in the Muggle World without drawing attention to himself.”

Hespera squeezed his hand. “I’m glad that he wants to be part of the world we’re building.” Then to his ears only, she whispered. “The Black sisters deserve better than to be used as bargaining chips in games of power.”

He kissed her forehead and promised. “They will have a bright future, I swear. No daughter of House Black will be abused or discarded again. They’re the future, them and our seven children.”

“M-My Lord…I swear….” Flint wheezed. “I-It’s all I know, I swear. I-It’s all L-Lady Peverell’s doing….”

It was immensely satisfying on some primitive level for Tom Marvolo Riddle to have a tangible insect to stomp on. All of his building frustration finally had a release, and he thirsted to draw the other more blood. He grabbed the first opportunity to fasten his hands around the pest’s throat and began to squeeze unmercifully, his lips parted in the imitation of a smile. The air was thick with the smell of brimstone and he knew that his control was barely existent. Not that he cared. All those bastards who had mocked and underestimated him….They deserved nothing but death.

But Dumbledore…..

How dare she take away his greatest victory and deprive him of the satisfaction he’d been coveting for decades?

Albus Dumbledore was his to torment, his to kill.

And now, his tormentor was as good as dead. Why should that irritate him? He knew not. He knew, however, that the satisfaction he felt when he first heard the news proved to be short-lived.

“I see you are suffering the consequences of butchering your soul.” A silky voice drawled. Lothaire materialized from the shadows as if he owned the room. He wrinkled his nose when he noticed the corpse and stepped over it. The Vampire was a manipulative, emotionless monster with a skewed sense of morality but his knowledge and power were bottomless. How he envied him.

“Where have you been?” he growled.

“Somewhere doing something that does not concern you,” he flashed him his pearly fangs. “Perhaps I should come later?”

“No,” he waved his hand and the corpse disappeared.

“Good,” Lothaire sighed. “The pungent smell of his blood was hurting my sensible nose. I am quite fastidious when it comes to whom blood I want to drink. Nothing but the very best pleases me.”

“Quite with your rambling,” Tom took a seat and drummed his fingers on the table. They were still tingling. He knew it was getting worse but it was a price he had to pay if he wanted immortality. “Peverell wants to open an Orphanage.”

“And we care because….” Lothaire answered simply.

“She’s moving too fast for my liking,” he snapped. “More Noble Houses are joining her. I doubt it would take long for her to have full control over the Ministry of Magic. She’s after something.”

“Maybe she’s after you,” the Vampire replied playfully. “Maybe she wants to ruin all the plans you spent your life concocting.”

“But how, Why?” he hissed, his voice impatient and anxious and his curiosity and frustration aroused again. “She doesn’t know me.”

“Maybe you’ve been wrong from the start,” Lothaire let his fingers rest lightly next to him.

“I cannot go public.”

“Cannot or would not?” Lothaire’s amused voice grated on his nerves and made the short hairs at the back of his neck stand out.

He knew he was the rightful Lord Gaunt not that his grandfather and uncle were no more but he didn’t want the Gaunt Seat and all the pointed fingers and whispers that would come with it. His family did enough harm to the prestigious name as it was.

As for House Slytherin….He would never admit it but the Family Magic had refused him. Even the wretched Basilisk refused to allow him entrance to Salazar’s secret chambers where he hid all his personal journals. The dismissal left him with little choice other than to become someone greater than the two titles; Lord Voldemort.

A spark of anger ignited in his chest at the reminder. Why were the Fates so set against him? He had proved himself time and again. He had defied Death and attained immortality. He was a Gaunt, a Slytherin and a Peverell but unlike Hespera, he had no right to any of the titles. The Family Magic had forsaken him. And now, she wanted to buy public affection and take on strays? He’d been so lenient on her. Maybe it was time to reminder everyone who Lord Voldemort was.

Chapter Text

Orion felt Hespera’s excitement as they walked hand in hand into the brightly lit entrance hall and found it overflowing with lavish vases of exotic flowers. “Oh . . . how beautiful!” After the previous grey, dreary day, the vibrant colours and the sweet perfume had managed to lift his beloved’s spirits. There were roses and orchids, irises, carnations, and delphiniums. “Where did they come from?” she whispered in wonder.

“It’s Mother’s doing, of course. You know how she’s been trying to outdo herself and impress the children. She wants to make them feel welcome.”

Hespera’s gaze softened. “I’ve never met a kinder soul than your mother. She doesn’t need to work this hard. I’m certain we’ve provided abundant evidence for the children to feel loved and wanted. It’s really wonderful to have a home.” Her smile was rueful.

Orion felt a pang in his chest. How much had she suffered in her previous life? Did she ever have a place she called home? The reminder made his heart wrench painfully. As if reading his turbulent thoughts, she lifted a dainty hand to his jaw and caressed it. “You are my home.”

“And you are my heartbeat. The only one I want now and forever,” he vowed. “You are my sunrise and the star that keeps me company in the darkest night. There was no morning sky or Phoenix-song before you appeared in my life. No butterfly would dare unfold its wings. I waited for you, my heart, just as the night waits for the moon.”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss him on both cheeks. “You are as eloquent as ever, Heir Black. Let’s not keep Cygnus waiting.”

He lifted a brow at that. “I see that my betrothed is eager to meet yet another member of my family and help them correct their ways.”

She winked. “Maybe because they’re my family, too. All I want is for them to have a happy and fulfilling life. We’ll never let history repeat itself.”

He nodded solemnly and led her toward the drawing room. They heard some voices before the doors cracked open gently, greeting the stronghold’s Mistress. Orion smiled. Sentient Magic had never ceased to amaze him. It astounded him how some imbeciles thought otherwise. Magic was a living and breathing entity; it was everywhere: a part of the very air every Wix breathed. It was never meant to be quelled or controlled. It was free and wild and majestic.

Cygnus stood as soon as they stepped inside, and the similarity of their features made a wan smile dance over his lips. They were peers, and they should’ve been raised together as brothers. Even though it was not meant to be, they could make the best of a bad situation and let bygones be bygones.

Cygnus executed the perfect bow. “Lady Peverell, Heir Black.”

Hespera touched his sleeve lightly, urging him to take a seat. “It’s a pleasure to have you here, Mr Black.”

It was then that a black head popped from under the couch. “H’lo.”

Hespera froze in utter surprise.

Hespera gripped her wand tightly in her palm until it turned ice cold. The dark memories of that fateful night in the ministry lured her away from everything safe and known, but she fought valiantly. That past did not—would not happen. The small, heart-shaped face staring in wonder at her, framed by a familiar, wild mane of ebony hair, did not belong to Sirius’ murderer. Bellatrix Black was shorter and younger, and her big amethyst eyes were innocent. Her hair swayed as she tugged at her father’s sleeve. Cygnus cleared his throat. “I apologise for the inconvenience. The little hellion insisted on accompanying me. Druella is heavily pregnant with our third child; she would give birth any day now, and Andromeda is being taken care of by her maternal grandparents.”

Lucretia waved his concerns off. “We don’t mind. It’s been a while since you brought one of the girls to Grimmauld Place. Bella is not little anymore.”

“I’m four!” Bellatrix lifted her chin in indignation and chirped in her baby-sweet voice.

Melania, Lycoris and Lucretia couldn’t help but laugh. Orion ran a soothing hand down her back. Hespera’s stomach tightened as he went down on her haunches and took a big breath. “Hello, Bella, I am Hespera, your uncle Orion’s betrothed.”

Her head tilted to the side and her voice soft, Bellatrix asked. “Does that mean you are my aunt?” Her whispered words sliced the stillness of the moment. Instinctively, Hespera's forefinger rubbed her satiny cheek. “Yes, you may call me Aunt Hespera.”

Bellatrix grinned mischievously. “Uncle Orion and Aunt Hespera sitting on a tree—“

“Bella!” Cygnus hissed. She spluttered a protest and writhed against his hold, but lowered her eyes when he stared at her sternly.

“I don’t envy you, Cousin”, Lucertia said with a touch of gruff amusement.

Cygnus cleared his throat. “Sometimes, I wonder what I did wrong,” he gave his little girl an exasperated side look. “She and Andy are polar opposites.”

Bellatrix huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. “I’m a good girl.”

“That, you are,” Hespera said as she stood. “Come, have a seat with me.”

As she saw Bellatrix’ tiny hand lift slowly, a soft catch of laughter escaped her. Who was this innocent, adorable creature? Most importantly, how did she turn into the vicious, loathsome woman she had the misfortune of meeting in her previous life?

“It is the Black Madness, my dearest,” Death offered. “It should not be underestimated. No Black is immune to it.”

Bellatrix clung to her side and sighed. At once, her magic reacted. Tendrils of House Peverell’s Family Magic extended and caressed the child tentatively. Bellatrix’ eyes widened. However, she pressed herself firmly against her, her shoulders pressed tightly against her ribs.

“Dark Magic,” Orion said, answering Cygnus’ unspoken inquiry. “Bella’s core is extremely dark. It found comfort in Death Magic.”

“Let's make sure to nurture and encourage her,” Cassiopeia smirked. “The girl has potential, don’t let it go to waste, Cygnus.”

“I won’t,” he vowed. ‘’I’d do anything for my girls.”

“Well said,” Lycoris nodded. “Let’s not get carried away. We are here to review the last details concerning the opening ceremony of the Orphanage. Nothing can go wrong.”

“Never,” Lucretia frowned. “I’m so excited to meet them.”

“We’ll welcome thirteen children first,” Orion provided. “The Ministry of Magic has been notified. Ten of them are Muggleborns who’ve been abused by their families.” Hespera’s hold on Bellatrix’ shoulders grew tighter. As if sensing the change in her emotional state, Bellatrix burrowed deeper into her side.

“Three of them are Half-Bloods,” Melania sighed. “They were abandoned either by their fathers or their mothers and denied the chance to grow up in a magical stronghold. I believe they know nothing of our world.”

“How despicable,” Lucretia said hotly, her pale cheeks flushing. “To abandon one’s child…It must have been hard on the other parent.”

“Of course,” Lycoris pressed her lips in an unsatisfied hyphen. “Their Muggle parents were completely unaware of our existence. When we explained that the children are not abnormal or possessed, they begged us to take them and teach them how to use their powers.”

“At least they asked for visiting rights,” Dorea sauntered inside, followed by Callidora and Charlus. “I would’ve hexed them to oblivion if they didn’t.”

“You mean like you cursed the six Muggloborns families we’ve visited?” Callidora snorted.

“They are not worthy,” she sniffed. “Children are a blessing that should not be taken for granted. They are likely to live up to what you believe of them.”

Bellatrix’ interest seemed to be piqued. “Many children are coming here?”

Hespera’s lips curled in a smile. “Yes. They know nothing of magic, so we’ll help them adjust before they start Hogwarts.”

She poked her ribs. “Can I help, please? It’s boring at home.”

“Bella,” Cygnus sighed. Then to Orion, he asked. “I’ve been to all their houses. Their living conditions are not the best. Even though most of their families are not badly off, they’ve been treated unjustly, whether it’s because of fear, ignorance or prejudice.”

“So, the faster we bring them home, the better,” Melania handed Bellatrix a small plate of cookies and a napkin. “Shall we set for a Sacred Day?”

“It would be great,” Lucretia clapped her hands. “Imbolc is upon us. Let’s give those poor souls an ember of hope in the darkness of winter.”

“Three days,” Charlus whistled. “I love a good challenge.”

Dorea rolled her eyes. “Can’t you see that the manor is more than ready to receive the children? I’m afraid you got involved long after Hespera and the others.”

“This is a travesty,” he scowled like a petulant child, and everyone burst out laughing. His expression sobered, and Hespera felt a tingle of worry slide down her back. The expression on his face was so familiar that it reminded her of herself whenever she was planning something naughty and most definitely very dangerous. “I, however, shall make up for the lost time.”

“Should I be worried?” Orion whispered.

She bit her lower lip and nodded. “Yes. Potters and chaos are very, very old friends. They never part.”

Orion stared at Alphard’s stricken face and rolled his eyes. Hespera asked him to bring her to the Apothecary to invite Regulus, Alphard and Eileen to the opening ceremony. Of course, it would be a good occasion to celebrate Imbolc together and pray for more blessings for House Black.

Hespera smirked. “Why the long face? Are you stuck in another experiment? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t think so,” Alphard said sullenly as he cut the Bettle Eyes with exaggerated force. Silence stretched on; all that could be heard was the crackling of flames while they cooked whatever potion he had in the cauldron.

Orion looked around. “Where is Uncle Regulus?”

Hespera nudged him on the side. “Where is Eileen?”

Understanding whistles shrilled in Orion’s head. Ah….Another Black helplessly in love.   “My love, you are amazing,” he whispered in her ear, his voice dipping to a smoky drone. She blushed a pretty carnation pink and glanced down at his smiling lips.

How could she understand his family’s needs so well? She was behaving like Lady Black should. She was already emblazoned on his soul. Everything about her was. She was perfect. Solely made for him.

“I’ll let you do with me what you will when we get back home,” he added in a deep, raspy voice, knowing very well what he was doing to her.

Hespera’s eyes widened, but she kept her expression neutral. Only the colour on her cheeks betrayed her feelings.

“She didn’t come today,” Alphard muttered sullenly. “Lord Prince….” He sounded troubled. “He asked her to go on a courting date with Heir Slughorn. They’re both Potion prodigies, he thinks they’re a good match.”

“And what does Eileen think about that?” Orion frowned. He was aware of his favourite cousin’s feelings toward Heiress Prince. However, if she dared hurt Alphard’s heart or take his love for granted, she would meet no mercy from him. Alphard had suffered enough lack of love and negligence to last for a lifetime, and no one was allowed to hurt him again. Not as long as he was Heir Black.

“Of course, she doesn’t want to,” Alphard hissed. “Eileen is...”His eyes darted between him and Hespera. “She’s kind and soft and loyal. Lord Prince is a peremptory man. All he cares about is the family’s future.”

“Is Slughorn a better Potioneer than you?” Hespera said, meeting Alphard’s eyes with cool challenge. “You are Uncle Regulus’ first Apprentice, a genius yourself. You took part in inventing Wolfsbane and saved Werewolves all across the Magical World. You are a proud Black, superior, perfect and blessed since birth. So tell me, Alphard Aries Black, who is this Slughorn bastard?”

Alphard’s eyes narrowed. “Are you by chance telling me I’m stupid?”

“I’m glad you saved us the trouble and confessed,” Orion flashed him a mocking grin. “We know how you feel about Eileen.”

“I know she shares your affection, so what are you waiting for?” Hespera cocked a brow up. “I didn’t take the man who braved his fear and stepped into Luna Silva for a coward. The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open,” she intertwined their fingers as she said the last word, never taking her eyes off Alphard. “Trust you heart and you’ll never regret it.”

Alphard looked at her uncertainly. “I know she cares about me, but she has never confessed her feelings.”

“Did you, then?” Orion drawled. “Eileen is a reserved person. I don't take her for someone who confesses first. You could’ve asked, or better yet, prepared a Betrothal Contract worthy of the woman you love.”

Alphard groaned. “You know how busy this year was. We had to deal with Father’s illness, Walburga’s banishment and then, there was the Wolfsbane. I can hardly take a rest. We are receiving commissions for several Packs at once. Uncle Regulus is at the end of his tether; he’s bombarded with thousands of letters daily asking for an Apprenticeship or a chance to work under him…”

“Still, this doesn’t absolve you from your stupidity. If you want something, go for it,” Hespera glared at him. “I know you love Eileen, but sadly, you gave her no insurance, no proof, nothing to hold on to.” She lifted her hand, showing him her engagement ring. “Love is a commitment; you have to work for it.”

Alphard looked nettled. He glared back at Hespera. “This is my first time falling in love. Do you have to be so cruel?”

Seeing his impotent anger, Orion chuckled. “So what are you going to do, cousin mine?”

Alphard threw his knife over his shoulder and hastily, took off his working robes. Immediately, his silver-grey eyes became grave. “I’m going to do what every proud Black should. Take what I want and fight mercilessly for it.”