Bella's in trouble

On the evening of November 1st, 1962, in the drawing room of Slytherin House, shortly before retiring for the night, Bella emitted a hiss of fury, akin to that of a cobra, as she expressed her annoyance with the feeble, servile, and flattering smiles of the other students.

Her words were laced with a sense of entitlement, as she yearned to inflict the unforgiving Cruciatus curse upon them. The intensity of her emotions was palpable, yet her outward demeanor remained composed. Bella's actions were a testament to the rigorous training she had received under the tutelage of her aunt, Walburga.

"Hush, Bellatrix," he said. "You, I, and Sylvia might be among the chosen twenty-eight, but it does not guarantee that none of the other lineages on the list will overhear us. And there is no dearth of them in this room at present. William Avery gave a nervous tic in his cheek, conveying his thoughts on his black-hearted cousin's impulsive and verbose tongue. He may have wished to say more with a different, sharper tone, but he was not foolish enough to risk the ire of his irascible sibling and direct the anger simmering within her towards himself.

"There is no need for such looks, Bella," Sylvia added. "He is correct, and we must be more circumspect. Our words may not reach outsiders, but even a fool could discern your true emotions, sister, and all one needs is to observe your gaze. Taking a sip from her cup, she continued, "A better question: Did your mother correspond with you today?"

Apart from the fact that both of them possessed a mirror, which served as a conduit to their respective homes, they also had parchments imbued with protean enchantments, enabling them to communicate with their parents at will, conveying urgent messages or receiving updates.

— No, did I need to? Bella pondered, for they communicated with home each night before retiring for the night, and she could not fathom why her parents would feel compelled to correspond with her beyond the designated hours.

A premonition. I cannot help but be discomposed by the sentiments that James, heir to the Travis line, and his companion, Rabastan Lestrange, evinced whenever their gazes alighted upon us. Indeed, the manner in which the latter had repeatedly cast his eyes upon you, Bella in particular, was deeply displeasing to me. The sensation of malevolence, the emotions he conveyed, awoke within me a profound unease. Sylvia, too, could not shake off the feeling of clamminess and repugnance after inadvertently encountering the sensual essence of these two not-so-reputable members of the magical elite of Britain, hailing from the esteemed Twenty-Eight Families, which were founded and popularized at the close of the previous century by the progenitor of the present Lord Nott.

As soon as they were mentioned, they graced us with their presence. William, with a reluctant stretch, observed their approach to their corner, where his cousin and cousins were seated upon a cozy sofa, accompanied by an armchair and a diminutive coffee table adorned with a tea service for three.

He was also displeased that Travis and Rabastan Lestrange would need to retire to their chambers following his conversation with the heiress. The artifact that ensured privacy for their conversation, when activated and deactivated, required a recharge time of five to six hours. To engage in conversation without its use and expose oneself to the risk of being perceived as a fool in the Slytherin common room! Neither he nor his kin would engage in such foolishness, for here, the slightest reservation or emotional expression could have grave consequences.

«Heiress Greengrass, Heir Avery, Miss Black, good evening.»

As soon as the seniors were standing before the freshmen, James Travis, the Head of the faculty, greeted them, followed by Rabastan. The underclassmen responded with greetings. Travis did not mince words, seeing the students before him not as rivals, let alone peers, for soon they would be part of the inner circle of Walpurgis, the inner circle of the Dark Lord. There are only a few enlightened mages in England who truly understand the meaning of this term, and only Abraxas among Gaunt's followers is aware of its true significance.

Travis immediately delved into the matter at hand, the reason for his attention to this trivial matter. Little did he know that most of his emotional impulses were not well-honed, yet sufficient to sway the sensual minds of the Greengrass heiress.. It has come to my notice that many members of our most ancient and illustrious houses, including yourself, engage in safe communication and discourse with those of Muggle descent. As head of this department, I wish to caution you against such conduct and advise against allowing your actions to tarnish the reputation of the noble twenty-eight by descending to their level. Have I been clear in my exposition of the values upheld by Slytherin house?

Tell me, heir Travis, is this displeased tone and complaint a manifestation of your own disposition or is it an echo of someone else's discontent, and if so, who is the source? The voice of Sylvia Greengrass was utterly apathetic, devoid of any semblance of emotion, and had it been able to affect physical constants, the air around would have grown cold, and the tea now held in the heir's hand would have transformed into a shard of ice.

"What do you mean by that, Heiress Greengrass?" James looked up, and instead of answering, he posed a counter-question. He was beginning to realise that perhaps he had been too hasty in his assault, for things were not unfolding as he had planned.

Indeed, his protective enchantment for the heiress was formidable; it could withstand a dozen spells from the intermediate circle, even shielding against Imperius, and it excelled in mental defence. In fact, it could even temporarily thwart a master of mental magic. However, when it came to protecting against emotional manipulation, it proved ineffective! To shield oneself from such manipulation, one must possess either profound expertise in this aspect of the psyche or at least be a proficient practitioner of mental magic capable of detecting such indirect influences on the mind and resisting them, disengaging from one's own emotions. Unfortunately, these fools were neither adept in the former nor skilled in the latter.. In Europe, the number of magicians who could work with the quintessential layer of the soul was vanishingly small, for there was no school of magic in Europe that focused on the study of the sensual spirit. These few gifted magicians, who possessed the ability to manipulate energy from this quintessential layer, all hailed from the Middle East or Asia, coming from lineages that were deeply rooted in magical traditions.

Unfortunately, these magicians were often descendants of those pure-blood mages whose ancestors had been so strongly influenced by Nazism that they strictly prohibited intermarriage within their clans, not only with non-magical individuals but also with those who did not share their cultural background. Moreover, these magi did not engage in mental magic, which required meticulous attention, diligence, and perseverance, qualities that they themselves lacked.

It is my contention that your earlier statement can be readily construed as an affront not only to me, but also to my family, particularly as the heir of Avery and Miss Black. I am confident that upon hearing my recollection, the elder members of my lineage will arrive at a similar conclusion, and you, Travis, as heir, will be called upon to account for your impudence and endeavor mightily to obtain forgiveness, demonstrating that it was solely your opinion and foolishness that sparked this discord, and that you alone, acting on your own behalf, chose to insult us, with no involvement of your clan.

"Are you threatening me?!" His exclamation was so loud and significant that even those few people in the Slytherin common room who had not yet participated in watching and listening to such a fascinating conversation did so instantly. And it was due to the extraordinary vividness and intensity of his final question, in which James Travis succeeded in conveying his sentiments of indignation, fury, fear, bewilderment, and irritation all at once.

And he is an heiress, and such conduct in public does not serve him well or enhance his political standing. For a few moments, there was complete silence in the common room, during which only the sound of people's breath could be heard, but then the heir of Avery decided to join in.

Incidentally, would you be so kind as to convey my admiration to your sister? We are not acquainted personally, having only met through intermediaries. It would be inappropriate for me to address her directly with a letter expressing my admiration and felicitations on her accomplishments. I have heard that she is being compared to your illustrious great-grandmother, Anna Travis. Is this factual?

Oh, here comes the response! Poor James is covered in red blotches from the outpouring of intense feelings and emotions. Let me provide a brief reference.

In England, there are few magical dynasties where the family code allows a non-male heir to ascend to the throne. Matriarchal clans such as the Peverell, Rosier, and Travis are known. The last Travis matriarch was the remarkable Anne-Marie, who passed away recently at the start of this century after leading her family for seven decades.

William also mentioned the success of Travis' eldest sister, who graduated from Durmstrang earlier this year and achieved the rank of apprentice in dark arts and spellcasting last year. It is being prophesized that she will soon become a master in these magical disciplines.. By juxtaposing her brilliance with that of the previous matriarch of the Travis lineage, he provides his contemporaries with a clear lens through which to evaluate the spectral prospects of the current scion ever ascending to the pinnacle of familial leadership. The contemporary landscape serves as a stark testament to this assessment, rendering it evident that he is not the optimal candidate or contender for the position of Lord Travis. His younger sibling appears far more auspicious and promising for the dynasty than the imbecile who could position himself before three neophytes and incriminate himself on the spot, literally from the opening salvoes of their discourse.

"It is true, and I will certainly convey this message," James articulated the words with apparent effort, as if his jaw were being forced open. He then addressed Greengrass, continuing, "I humbly request your forgiveness. My words were misconstrued, and my intentions were misunderstood. My sole intention was to express my concerns and protect the esteemed representatives of my nation's venerable clans from associations that could tarnish their reputations."

After a half-minute pause, during which the drawing room was filled with silence, Sylvia once again took the floor.

"I have heard you, Heir Travis," she said. "I accept your apology. However, I must inform the head of the family of today's incident." Bella and William also expressed their apologies, echoing her words.

As James and Rabastan bid farewell and hurriedly departed the room, leaving behind a lingering tension, Lestrange spoke softly, his words meant only for Travis' ears.

"It's alright, mate," he said. "At least one of us will get what's coming to them for this!" Rabastan's voice was laced with a menacing hiss, akin to the growl of a furious beast.

Travis was not the sole individual who could discern the words of inspiration. No one on these islands was aware of the history of the Avery line of battle wizards. Once, they resided on the continent that in our world is known as Belgium, and at the dawn of their existence, more than a thousand and five hundred years ago, the Avery clan, in pursuit of their own empowerment, integrated into their ranks descendants conceived by female were-wolves. Through a series of rituals not devoid of darkness, following the birth of these children, they performed a ritual to enhance their abilities, with the mother-wolf serving as the sacrifice in her beastly form during the transformation.

Through this process, the newly adopted members of the family acquired significant advantages, including accelerated regeneration, heightened resistance to magical influences, enhanced endurance, improved physical condition, and acute senses, particularly in the realm of hearing!

And what young William had overheard, he did not find particularly palatable. Nonetheless, it was not feasible to divulge such information in the drawing room, given the keen attention directed towards their personalities due to recent events and the absence of a functioning device to shield them: the eavesdropping devices. Once he had retired to his cousins' chambers, he composed a letter to Sylvia using the versatile parchment, meticulously recounting verbatim what he had overheard Rabastan say to James.

"You do understand that this can only mean one thing, don't you?" Sylvia's voice was toneless, devoid of emotion, as she relayed what William had shared with her. "It appears that the Lestranges have influenced Orion, and the so-called Dark Lord's influence on Walburga has led her to kiss his hand. The Greengrass heiress shuddered in revulsion at the image that had been presented to her youthful mind.

What am I to make of this? I have no desire to be united in matrimony with any member of the Lestrange clan, much less with that witless Rodolphus. If my aunt has persuaded Orion that such an alliance would be advantageous, neither my parents nor myself can influence or alter the situation.

Hysteria began to take hold of the unfortunate young lady. Brave, daring, and intelligent as she may be, Bella is still but an eleven-year-old, and her abilities do not include the mental prowess of Sylvia, so this revelation sent her sensitive spirit into a state akin to that before a storm, and panic set in.

Do not be alarmed! Have you forgotten what Professor Drake once imparted to us in lecture, that we are already favored by fate, and possess the power to mold the cosmos and alter the very fabric of existence? What is such a trifle to us? We shall find a means to circumvent this union.

Sylvia, too, was familiar with Rodolphus, having heard of his exploits during his school days. Her opinion of him was clear-cut: "a wild beast in the guise of a man." Thus, she endeavored to lend her sister all the support she could.

And what would that be? To disown my family? I would become the target of every other powerful family in England, and beyond, attempting to take me under their wing. Do you know that even renouncing my bloodline and its magical powers would not erase the Black blood within me? That blood, which could be used to cast curses upon my closest kin with semblance magic? Considering that our family is the product of generations of deliberate incest, the repercussions could be far-reaching. I would be hunted by my own kin — not with the intention of bringing me back to my family!

By the time Bellatrix had finished her contemplation of her potential fate, she was shouting.

"Why such a drastic measure? There are other options. I propose a marriage by any ritual that precludes annulment. If validated by magic, Walburga will not be able to change anything."

At the mention of marriage, Sylvia's sister began to take a deep breath, evidently not appreciating Sylvia's suggestion of a "wonderful" alternative, which involved exchanging soap for soap. In a rush, Sylvia suggested another way to delay the marriage: she could seek personal tutelage under a renowned and established master of magic. In such a case, the teacher's authority would supersede that of the family head, and their word would carry more weight.

The very same condition regarding the completeness of the ritual renders it impracticable for me! In your opinion, where might I locate a mentor who possesses the status of a master and would deign to accept me as their protégé, but more importantly, someone I could place my utmost trust in? Moreover, during the course of my apprenticeship, I must not be allowed to resist their will or instructions!

But despite her own statements and protests, Bella and Sylvia, as they discussed the possibility of finding a teacher they could trust, saw the image of Ormar Drake in their minds. Miss Black and heiress Greengrass, imagining the prospect of becoming personal students of Professor Drake — a man who left no girl at Hogwarts unmoved, from the smallest to the oldest, except for those whose hearts were already taken — were greatly troubled by this, for none of them felt any internal resistance to the idea that Ormar could have almost unrestricted power over them.

It was only a few moments later that Sylvia realised she had suddenly projected the situation onto herself! She did not need to go through such extreme measures. This realization made her even more uncomfortable, reflected in her demeanour, and a vivid blush spread across her snow-white cheeks, reaching her ears, now aflame with scarlet.. It was not enough that her own thoughts and feelings were stirred, but a torrent of sensual emotion overwhelmed her, burying her in its wake and dragging her helplessly along.

"I must write to my parents!" Sylvia exclaimed, hastily seeking to divert her cousin's attention from her own predicament. Bella, who had not failed to notice the change in her complexion, was acutely aware of the situation. The heiress of the Greengrass family had been proactive in broaching the subject with her sister, eager to avoid answering the uncomfortable questions that might arise regarding her loss of emotional control.

On the evening of November 1st, at 23:25, in the intimate confines of the Greengrass manor's drawing room, Sylvia found herself engulfed in this turbulent sea of emotions.

"So, what do you suppose we ought to do?" inquired the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange's mother, Druella Rosier née Black, who, upon receiving a message from her daughter and having communicated with her via the mirror, having received the information and concluded her conversation with Bella, had been overcome with hysteria and desired to depart for 12 Grimmauld Place forthwith. Fortunately, her husband, Cygnus, was present. He managed to restrain his wife from such an imprudent action, and, upon having calmed her somewhat, he promptly accompanied her to visit her sister Rosalie and her friend Henry at the Greengrass manor.

They would have been happy to extend an invitation to their third sibling, but, alas, given the current circumstances, with Marguerite Avery's husband firmly aligned with Marvolo Gaunt's ideologies, any level of trust was out of the question.

It is worth noting that a magical marriage goes beyond the mundane formalities of a Muggle ceremony, involving a mere signature on a document. Such a union carries profound significance and implications. Marguerite, once a Rosier, became an Avery, but her marriage to her husband went beyond a simple ritual. It was sanctioned by a binding contract that effectively rendered her almost entirely subservient to her spouse, leaving little room for personal autonomy.. The only thing that prevented Marguerite and her son from attracting the attention of Tom Riddle, who never failed to seize any opportunity to exert influence on the inner circle of his followers, especially those destined to become future heads of families, was Lord Avery's acute aversion to the self-proclaimed Dark Lord, whom he refused to allow even a simple conversation on the threshold of his manor. Thus, one of the triplets was excluded from the social circle of her sisters due to her husband's fixation on Thomas Riddle, now known as Marvolo Gaunt.

«And so, we are left with little choice, as our daughters have already realized in their own hearts. We must either hastily marry Bella to a more suitable candidate through an irrevocable ritual, which would inevitably lead to a confrontation with the main family, or we must find a teacher for her, a guild-master who would agree to take her by the old ritual as a personal pupil, one who would not fear the anger of the Black family.

Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten? We will still need him to take an oath not to harm the honor and dignity of our family name! Have I left anything out?» Cygnus turned to Henry Greengrass, the chief analyst and brain of their unspoken alliance.

That is indeed the case. I simply cannot envision how we might find someone of such exceptional intellect who would be willing to undertake a personal apprenticeship with us, subjecting themselves to the wrath of the Black family and becoming a target for Walburga's best assassins. Moreover, even if such a person were to be discovered, how could we possibly compensate them? A standard apprenticeship agreement under a master is worth tens of thousands of Galleons, but in this case, we are talking about a personal apprenticeship. I cannot recall such arrangements in my lifetime, although they were not unheard of a couple of centuries ago and were considered rare.

Nevertheless, all apprenticeships are governed by contracts in which the master undertakes to train the apprentice and outlines in detail the terms of their interaction, including rights and obligations. However, they generally seek to avoid taking on the responsibility of personal apprenticeships.. Evidently, gold would not suffice here, and something of extraordinary value and rarity would need to be offered for such an object.

In my dowry there was a most extraordinary piece — a rare copy of Salazar Slytherin's own handwriting, a laboratory journal containing his experiments in chimerology. This was a piece of great scientific significance, created by a wizard of genius, and of immense historical importance. It is no secret that of his legacy, as with that of the other founders, only fragments have survived to this day. Such a scientific work could easily become the jewel of any noble and ancient family's most esteemed library. Moreover, I am prepared to pay fifty thousand Galleons, and to hand over the heart of the last Nemean Lion, under oath of incorruptibility.

Henry was not alone in being astonished; even Cygnus found it difficult to keep his mouth closed. To imagine that he had acquired the founder's work as a dowry for his wife, and he was unaware of it! And it was not just any work, but the heart of an extinct magical feline species on Earth.

His ignorance of his wealth was understandable, as he had married Druella out of great love. However, he tried to conceal this fact, as Druella herself did not reciprocate his feelings at the time of their marriage. It was only after years of his dedication and love for her, as well as the birth of their daughter Bellatrix, that Druella developed feelings for him. That is why he kept silent about the dowry he had received. His happiness stemmed from the fact that he had married his beloved, and the rest was of little importance to him.

"Ehhhhh… This is all well and good, but I doubt any of my acquaintances, even those who have a Master's degree in magic and would accept such remuneration, would be willing to become Walburga's personal enemy," Henry said, returning from learning of Bellatrix's proposal for an apprenticeship.

"I don't have any suitable candidates," Bella's father replied with a hint of annoyance.

For several minutes, silence reigned in the drawing room as the ladies soothed their nerves with wine and the gentlemen preferred whisky. Then, suddenly, Rosalia stirred.

"I have an idea," she said with a triumphant look around the room. "It may seem wild and even foolish at first, but I strongly believe that this is our solution to our predicament!"

"Come on, don't be coy. Share your idea!" her mother urged, unable to contain her curiosity.

«Ormarr Drake!» exclaimed the name and surname of the newly appointed Hogwarts professor, which had been the subject of much discussion among the assembled guests in the drawing room. The guests were now deep in thought, pondering Rosalie's suggestion regarding the ideal candidate for their daughter's future mentor and guardian against the insidious machinations of the mad Val.

"Agree to any conditions he proposes, and you shall not regret it," they were told. "Remember this! Demand nothing of him, especially oaths, his word alone is sufficient!"

Four sets of eyes in the room stared in astonishment at the animated portrait of Tristan Greengrass, former headmaster of Hogwarts, who had held the position for a brief period several centuries ago. However, it was not Greengrass who appeared in the portrait, but rather Nigelus Black. It came as a great surprise to all present that headmasters of Hogwarts could not only move through their own portraits but also visit the portraits of their colleagues.

"Great-grandfather?!" Cygnus Black's response was one of incredulity, for the umpteenth time that evening. And indeed, there was much to be amazed at. After all, for two generations, the Blacks had seen their great-grandfather only on the tapestry of the family tree and in the portrait of their illustrious ancestor at Hogwarts. It had been a long time since he graced the portrait at Grimmauld Place, let alone the portraits of his blood kin, spending his time exclusively at Hogwarts. His reputation as a highly contentious figure was well-earned.

Still, to have served as the headmaster of Hogwarts, albeit briefly, and to be remembered by generations as the most disliked headmaster in school history, one must have made a concerted effort. The reason for his enduring memory was his ambition to restore the school to the heights established by its founders.! Alas, Henry Greengrass was too hasty to correct the intentional sabotage of his predecessors, and in some cases their folly, which had led to the current state of affairs, and he had numerous adversaries who succeeded in removing him from this esteemed position.

Cygnus, having gathered his thoughts, interjected as Henry Greengrass joined the conversation, seeking to calm his agitation.

"My dearest Lord Black," Henry Greengrass said, addressing the head of the Black family, "it is an honour to be here. Based on your urgent recommendation regarding how we should approach Ormar Drake, I understand that you possess information about this individual, suggesting that he is a highly dangerous and intelligent being, one who should not be treated with contempt or arrogance.

However, I have been informed that Nigelus has given up any hope of extracting further information from him. Nonetheless, his response has provided ample food for thought."

— So you were familiar with him in person. — He was part of a circle of individuals he trusted, and did not feel the need to censor every word he uttered. All the more reason to ponder the information they had uncovered about the professor of interest.

— Did his true identity leave any trace in history, at least, and is it known worldwide? — Druella sought to unravel the mystery of Professor Drake's identity, but after Nigelus' cunning smile at the portrait, and the oath once sworn to Svyatozar, she believed he was on the verge of breaking it and delivered a gentle warning. To outside observers, it appeared as if the former headmaster of Hogwarts were being subjected to the Cruciatus curse. The unfortunate man now lay on the carpeted floor of the painted scene, convulsively thrashing his body against the floor, and his head against the leg of a table.

The spectators of this scene were deeply affected by what transpired before their eyes. From what they had witnessed, they could envision the magnitude of the vow that the former Lord Black had taken, and the strength of the wizard who now held it, for even the astral and mental imprints of his soul bore the weight of the obligations assumed by the long-departed Headmaster of Hogwarts in his sworn oath.

Nigelus, even in the guise of a mere portrait, aspired for his lineage to flourish, and even more so, for the honour of bearing the legacy from which Salazar Slytherin himself would select a mage as his protégé! Thus, he deliberately stumbled, verging on breaking his vow, in order to elicit a reaction and grant those concerned access to the information — the extent and potency of the immediate warning he had received from his promise — so that the witnesses to his chastisement could draw unambiguous inferences.

The mage Nigelus in question is a formidable intellect. For the erstwhile Lord Black, the phrase "Kin above all" was not merely bravado or an empty statement, and thus he took the gamble of being incarnated with a lighthearted spirit, if such words applied to a mere ethereal manifestation.

Now, I began to question the wisdom of my decision to approach this enigmatic professor with the request to take our young lady as a personal student. Druella's uneasy tone disrupted the observation of Nigelas's ordeal, as she struggled to discern the identity of this professor who had elicited an oath from Nigelus Black.

Despite the fact that he was known for his eccentricity and fiery temperament, traits that were not uncommon among Black wizards, she found it difficult to believe that he would willingly pledge secrecy. Moreover, his willingness to do so suggested a degree of respect, leading to the question of his identity.

After all, he was notorious for his contempt for other wizards on the islands. His recognition as a skilled mage in England was limited to a select few, all of whom were prominent figures.. So Ormarr is not a native of our islands. However, given that Nigelus propagated the slogan "There is no life beyond the Channel!" and only left England a few times for his visits to the continent for guild exams, it becomes increasingly unclear who Ormarr might be and where they might have met.

In light of these circumstances, I will attempt to influence my brother, although you are well aware that he is entirely under Walburga's influence. Thus, the likelihood of my persuading Orion of the wisdom of such a union is exceedingly slim. Marvolo has suggested that it would be advantageous for our daughter to marry into the Lestrange family.

What suspicion could there be? She is well known to dream of pleasing that abomination! At the mere mention of it, Rosalia shudders with disgust. I cannot bear to be in its presence, and moments later, I am overcome with nausea! Despite his impeccable performance and portrayal of a noble lord, he is repugnant.

It would have been utterly repugnant for Rosalia to be in Riddle's presence, for she, like her gifted daughter, possessed the gift of empathy, and the mere touch of his wounded soul was nauseating.

"I would, of course, endeavor to contact a few additional members of the MCM, the Guild of Dark Arts and Charms. I did not wish to squander such a valuable resource in the form of esteemed debtors, but what of it?" Henry dismissed the matter with a casual wave of his hand, but everyone present understood the significance of such resources and acknowledged the gesture. "And once I have obtained further information on Mr. Drake through these channels, we shall make our decision."

"Thank you, friend," Cygnus expressed his gratitude.

"You would have done likewise in my position, friend."