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Being the Lord of Black felt… different.
No, that was not right. I already had the Potter Lordship for quite some time now, and aside from the occasional information that the family ring relayed to my head, there was little to no difference. The ring also carried an extra enchantment that granted me the 'sense memory' to recognize older works written in the Potter Grimoire into easily-comprehensible modern English. Granted, I hadn't gotten much progress in diving into the transfiguration lore of the Potter Grimoire, but that had less to do with the difficulty and more to do with the time constraints I was operating under. After all, for all the perks I had, elevated temporal perception wasn't one of them.
Hmm… Temporal… Now, wouldn't that be interesting?
Okay, La La wonderland time could come later. Time to focus on the present.
Now, where was I? Yes, the mantle of Lord Black.
I imagined it had less to do with the lordship, and the Wizengamot seat, and more to do with the method of my ascension. By assimilating the yenaldooshi spirit, I was spiritually a blend of a yenaldooshi and a human, the closest thing to the originators of the Black Family Magic itself. Toujours Pur, the Black Family Motto, always granted power to the one that was the purest. Too bad that the descendants twisted the meaning to justify their purist, bigoted beliefs instead of refining their original bloodline.
I hadn't. And the results now stood before me.
The Magical Animagus perk was quite self-explanatory. The yenaldooshi were powerful shapeshifters, and capable of powerful sorcery of their own right. Just their psychic stench was enough to debilitate even the most adept witches and wizards. Adding that to the Malevolent Release perk where I could transform into a 'form of darkness'... Part of me shuddered at the idea of what it would be.
I'd no doubt attempt that transformation in the near future, but only in a very warded location.
With multiple people ready and armed with all sorts of protections.
And a Fidelius.
Surprisingly, Lording Around perk proved to be far more interesting than it originally seemed. It was a perk that reproduced 'Toujours Pur' as a concept, enhancing the potency of the Black Lord. If activated normally, it elevated the Interest level of those that shared Black blood, and reduced the Difficulty level of manipulating them, of course at varying degrees depending on how much Black heritage they had in their blood. A useful skill, but I had better options to get that done.
But when I used it on things other than people, well, that is when things turned interesting.
That left the third and final perk. Curses Without End.
PERK - CURSES WITHOUT END
Rule of the Fresh-blood Emperor
EFFECTS
80% reduction in cost when casting curses
Crazy, isn't it? I mean, having a high, or even a 100% affinity towards the Dark Arts was great, but it only increased the chances of casting the curses without fail. At best, a 100% affinity meant that my curse would be as potent as possible with minimal loss of energy during the casting.
But a 80% reduction meant I could cast five curses at the magical cost of one. Such a skill would be absolutely terrifying on the battlefield, especially after I had scoured through the Black library and added hundreds of powerful curses in my arsenal.
I'd have loved to say that it was all there was to the perk.
Unfortunately, it wasn't.
Curses Without End wasn't just a perk. It was closest to what I could call a perpetually active perk. Like a puppy that had spent its entire life in isolation. With the Black Family fallen to ruins, and the yenaldooshi's powers degrading with every generation, it left the Family Magic starved and scarred and utterly, utterly neglected. Now that it had found a proper Master, it was practically jumping up and down, wagging its tail and wanting to be of service.
All it took was a mere thought of using it, and Curses Without End suggested a litany of spells right off the Black Grimoire into my mind. The closest analogy I could use was a form of AI that sensed my need and instantly forwarded the appropriate spell for my use.
Only, the spells in question were all curses.
Curses Without End.
But even that was fine. The true problem lay in the fact that this overly enthusiastic 'puppy' only wanted to please me. For everything else, it was a rabid wolf that wanted to curse everything within its range and beyond. It would curse, curse and curse away until the entire universe was crushed out of existence by the weight of the curses upon it. And no, just because someone was of Black blood or an Anchor to its Lord made absolutely no difference in its mind.
Like… right now.
Walburga's hands went slack, her eyes wide in shock and her skin going a shade paler than it already was. Beside her, Narcissa looked at him in alarm, the tightness of her body and the openly hateful look on her features spoke volumes.
"What… what is this power?" Narcissa asked.
"The power of Curses," I said, followed by a 'Without End' in my mind. "My authority as the Black Lord. It sensed your earthly bonds shattering, Walburga, and I needed both of your cooperation. I am also freshly out of miracles so if it decides to harm you, I won't be able to stop it. Please be polite."
"This is outrageous," said Walburga. The dichotomy of the enforced neutral tone and the absolute fury of being restrained was beautiful. "I have done nothing but work in the best interests of House Black."
"Of House Black, yes, but not necessarily mine," I said coldly. "The spirit was nothing like you prepared me for. I am certain I would have died if not for…" I paused, not willing to give away the potential information. "And neither of you would have done anything to stop that from happening. No, had the yenaldooshi killed me, both of you would have attempted to restrain it with the wardstones until it was morning."
"Come down from your high horse, boy," said Walburga. "You told me you would do whatever it takes to become the Black Lord. Wake up! Power like the kind you wield now does not come without equivalent risk."
"True, but it doesn't relieve you of your obligations to ensure I have the greatest chance to attain this power. And now, before proceeding onward, I must know where either of your heart lies. Be warned that any attempt at lying and the Magic will strike you down. And no, Walburga, being a wraith won't keep you from eternal torment. I might not be able to kill you, but there is nothing preventing me from… oh I don't know, entrapping you inside a box and sealing you beneath this very building."
Walburga went whiter.
"Speak," I commanded the wraith. "And I will judge you for it."
"I have been cursed to remain here until I redeem myself by ensuring a worthy Lord Black takes up the mantle," said Walburga, looking at me in appraisal. "The Malfoy brat, even if he did end up taking up the Wizengamot seat, would never be the Lord this House needs. Lucius had bred him to become a Malfoy first. My dearest Bellatrix is probably rendered barren from her stay in Azkaban, and Andromeda was cast-off by Uncle Arcturus himself for sullying the House name. My only chance was to wait for dear Narcissa to conceive again, but as the years passed, that hope began to flicker. And then, you happened."
I didn't know how to feel about Walburga describing me as an 'event' rather than a person.
"Despite my intention, I couldn't outright reject you. You entered this mansion, so your Black blood must run true in your veins. When you mentioned your name, I remembered Dorea Black, Arcturus's dear sister married to the Potters. I was also curious about the strange power that led you to survive and vanquish the Dark Lord as a babe. When you proclaimed your desire to become the Black Lord, I couldn't help but consider you as a potential candidate, even with your mother's blood sullying your lineage."
"Aunty communicated to me about your proclamation," said Narcissa. "At first, I was inclined to believe Draco's words and ignore you as little more than a nuisance. But then I saw you at Twilfit, and I reevaluated you. You were powerful, especially for your age. You ignored my allure, and I entertained the idea of taking you as a lover. If you performed adequately, I would elevate you as a potential claimant, and if you failed, I would ask Aunty to drop her hopes about you."
A small smirk formed on her face. "Needless to say, you performed spectacularly. I estimated you would attempt your OWLs earlier, and use your current standing as Lord Potter to make a pass at the Black seat. I knew Sirius was your godfather, and he'd have never wanted the seat to go to a Malfoy. But never, not in my wildest expectations, did I foresee you framing my son into casting an Unforgivable and removing him from the competition utterly. I was… exhilarated. You had proven to have the right amount of cunning, diplomacy and ruthlessness that Grandfather Arcturus would have wanted. You had enough skill to charm me, Narcissa Malfoy, into surrendering my body for you to play like an instrument. Your lack of decorum and non-adherence to pureblood ideologies was annoying, but that taint could be rubbed off in time."
She met my eyes. "You know the rest. I dropped my panties and offered you my arse."
"In the meeting room of the DMLE," I pointed out.
Walburga let out a low, grumbling sound.
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "I knew, right then, that you were the one. That I could take a chance with you. That you could kill Lucius for me and then —"
"And then?"
Narcissa opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out of her mouth. She tried again, and then again, but to no effect.
"You are cursed to speak the truth, and nothing else but the truth," I told her.
Narcissa's eyes bulged. "How —"
"That's the Black Family Magic for you," I said. "This is what you are up for, Narcissa Black. Your husband is dead and gone, and your son is cursed to hate both yourself and the Blacks for the rest of his life. And you are the widow of a man responsible for an international genocide. And unlike dear Aunty, you don't have the option of getting ahead with the afterlife."
"Yes, tell me something I don't know," spat the woman. "What is it you want, Harry Potter? You want me down on my knees, sucking your cock and begging you to take me in? Is that what you want?"
"Tempting," I said. "But we'll get down to the sucking on your knees part eventually. But no, what I want is your complete allegiance, Narcissa. You know I am against the Dark Lord, and after tonight's events, things will escalate beyond your imagination. I need to know if I can trust you."
Narcissa glared at him, but said nothing.
I turned to Walburga. "Now back to my original question. What happened to Kreacher and Regulus? Be warned, if you choose to lie, I will know it, and react appropriately."
Walburga scoffed. "I don't need to. Not to you, my Lord," she curtseyed again. "It snowed heavily that December. I remember Regulus coming in, and telling me that the Dark Lord required the services of an elf. I sincerely wanted to please the man, and suggested Kreacher to be in his service. I ordered the elf to do whatever the Dark Lord needed, and then come home."
She floated to the right, her body shimmering.
"When Kreacher came back, he was half-dead. He was poisoned with the Drink of Despair, and it took over a month for Regulus to heal him back. My dear boy always had a soft spot for that elf. The tales Kreacher told us afterwards… it boggled the mind. The Dark Lord had taken him to an island, on a boat. He had him drink from a basin filled to the brim with that potion, and put a locket inside the basin. Then, he left him there to die, amidst a lake filled with —"
"Inferi."
Walburga hissed, startled. "You… you…"
"A lake full of inferi," I said. "Pulling Kreacher down to the depths of the lake. But Kreacher isn't a wizard, he's an elf. And what Voldemort considers beneath him, he never bothers to understand it. House-elf apparition is different from wizard apparition, and Kreacher was asked to come home, so he did, despite the wards outside."
Walburga was staring at me, flabbergasted. "How do you —"
"Never mind how I know it," I said. "I assume Regulus went with Kreacher after that? What happened? Did they return with the Locket?"
Walburga looked like she wanted to explode but barely restrained herself. "No. My little boy went with Kreacher to retrieve this locket, but someone captured him before they could break in. Regulus perished in trying to defend himself, and Kreacher… Kreacher died here, in this very house, from a withering curse."
Right then it clicked. I took a sharp breath. "Don't tell me it was —"
A terrifying rage tore through Walburga's features. "Lucius Malfoy. He is the one that suggested Cygnus to marry Bellatrix away to Rodulphus Lestrange, and he's the one that murdered my Regulus. And Merlin knows that the bastard ensured that Sirius remained in Azkaban. That… that French, goat-sucking bastard destroyed my precious family, and I had to watch as he took control of the Black fortune and pillaged it, adding to his own Vaults over the years. And to think that one day his son, that son that never saw the Black name as anything more than a seat and a fortune to steal from, would take up the mantle of Lord Black? Egregious!"
That… made a surprising amount of sense. But if Regulus perished before getting his hands upon the Locket, then it probably was in the same cave.
Pity Kreacher had died. I could've used him to get the cave again. At least I knew where to start searching.
After what seemed like eternity, I met Walburga's eyes. "I cannot bring your son back, Walburga Black. But this I can swear. Lucius has already died for his deeds, and the Dark Lord will follow. He will rue the day he decided to make an enemy out of House Black."
Walburga shivered at my words.
I closed my eyes, and took in a deep breath. I didn't know what I was doing, just what I needed to do. The words came to me on their own, and I let the Black magic guide me.
"I, Harry James, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, hereby testify before Magic herself. Be it known that Walburga Cassiopeia Black was a true daughter of House Black. Whatever her deeds, whatever her failings, I hereby declare that she fulfilled her Oath to the family, redeeming the family to its original path of Toujours Pur. So have I spoken, so mote it be!"
I opened my eyes and —
Froze.
Walburga Black was standing there, smiling, her eyes filled with tears of happiness and gratitude. She mouthed a 'thank you' as her body glowed bright silver before exploding into motes of purple light.
And then she was gone.
I exhaled, and turned to Narcissa, who was staring at me like a hawk.
"You have something to say?"
"Many things," she said. "But those can wait. Tell me, Lord Black, just how do you know all that? And that power earlier… that was Necromancy. How does a —"
She opened her mouth and then decided otherwise.
I smirked. "Don't worry, Narcissa. Everything will be revealed in due time, once you offer me your allegiance."
Narcissa stared at me for a long moment. Finally, she sighed. "It's like I said. The current balance of power does not favour me. Is it really… necessary to keep me in this position, Lord Black?"
"Are you done with tricking me into dangerous situations?"
"I'm willing to negotiate rationally."
I gave her a professionally suspicious look.
Her poker face was better than mine.
"Fine," I said, and stepped back. With that, Curses Without End let her go. Narcissa coughed, and exhaled, before checking her body and casting certain diagnostic charms upon herself to verify her situation. Finally, she regarded me and said —
"Thank you. I appreciate dealing frankly with one another at this point."
"Sure."
"Don;t be so coy, Harry Potter," she said. "You hold my future in your hands now. It's like you said: I have no options. I gained the freedom I sought for years, but my husband had the last laugh. Despite being his widow, I won't have anything to live on, since he has transferred every single knut to his son's name. And as per his will, Draco is magically forced to hate me, and everything to do with the Black family. He will not welcome me. And the Rosier family will not accept the shamed, penniless widow of the deceased Malfoy family. I have nothing, except for what Lord Black might offer me out of pity."
Every single word felt like a knife aiming for her throat.
"So," she asked. "What's your price? You asked for my complete allegiance, but loyalty is something not even Magic can enforce. What is it then? An unbreakable vow? Oaths of Silence? Curses placed upon my body and soul if I ever choose to act against you knowingly or otherwise?"
I lifted my eyebrow. "You really think that high of me?"
Narcissa snorted. "I like to call a spade a spade. Yes, I tricked you. I used you for my own purposes. You had all the qualities of a good lover. I assure you, had you perished tonight, I would have missed the sex."
I snorted.
"But," said Narcissa. "I am a Black woman. I have grown up believing that the world is ours to command. I considered you a tool at first, and a potential ally. The question is, what am I to serve for you?"
I sighed. "Look. I know I play hardball, but I play it clean. Or at least, I won't sacrifice my own for the sake of gain."
"You are not that much of an idealist, Harry Potter," said Narcissa with a faint hard smile on her mouth. "At the end of the day, you chose to kill and butcher all those Death Eaters and werewolves. Not because you wanted to save the innocent, but because you wanted the blood and the magic to fuel your ritual. You saved that mudblood from being sacrificed, not because it was the right thing to do, but because it was inconvenient for your plans. At the end of the day, you are just like my husband. You will commit genocide if you think it is the proper thing to do."
"You're goddamned right I will," I said, because the empirical evidence was pretty tough to dispute. 'But if I was as hardcore as you think, you wouldn't be standing here mouthing off to me. I'm the Lord Black now, and while we are here, there is nothing stopping me from killing you and cutting the loose ends off."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "Is that your intention?"
I threw up my hands. "Bloody hell, Narcissa. Look, if I wanted to do something bad to you, I could. Right now. You know it just as well as I do. You're standing in the wrong place, you are cut off from your resources and even your husband is acting against you posthumously. You aren't in a position to stop me from doing it."
Words could not be more rigid than the ones she spoke. "I am aware."
I exhaled. This was going nowhere.
"Look. I mean I could do all that, but I don't. You and I have a working relationship, and objectively speaking, a woman of your talents would be of great use to me and mine. You can have the wealth, the lifestyle, and the sex you are used to, as well as the freedom you want. And I will have the information and insight that only you can provide, while I meander through the myriad that is Wizengamot politics. It's a win-win. All I want is your allegiance to me, to Lord Black."
She stared at me with that unreadable expression for a good minute. Then she said, "I suppose worse things could have happened. I can't believe I am saying this, but I agree with what Auror Robards had to say about you. Either you are being sincere, in which case, I truly don't understand you. Or you are a person capable of twisting situations to secure gain for yourself while simultaneously cladding yourself in moral armour as to make yourself practically unassailable. In which case, your skill at manipulation is to be admired."
"I figure you can look at this in two ways."
She arched an eyebrow at my comment.
"You can think of this as you working with me, using me as a tool as you saw fit, but somehow, gaining me what I wanted in the first place. Only, now that I am in a position of power, I am taking a cheap shot at you."
"Sounds about right."
"Or," I said. "You can accept the fact that circumstances change, and that both of us are making shit up while we go along in the best way we know how. You put your interests above mine. I just pulled mine up next to yours."
Something like grudging understanding tinged her gaze for a second. She let out a soft snort through her nose.
"I will swear whatever vows you want me to swear. But first, I need you to write me a check authorising some major remodelling for this manor. I can't bring myself to live here while it is in such a sorry state, not even in my worst nightmares."
I laughed. "Why don't you spend some of your own money? Until I take up the Wizengamot seat, I cannot touch the Black vaults, without coming out as a potential suspect."
Narcissa snapped. "Did you get hit in the head, Potter? My husband left me nothing. It's his last will and testament, and he clearly left me nothing. Not a single knut. Not for his widow. Not for his House. All is to be transferred to Draco's Vault."
"Oh, not necessarily," I said. "I have learnt that more often than not, events can turn out to be quite… serendipitous."
An excerpt from the Daily Prophet the next day….
Terror at the World Cup!
Death Eaters and werewolves attack and detonate the World Cup stadium! Thousands dead!
British Ministry in ashes!
Hundreds of werewolves as well as upstanding purebloods found dead in Death Eater attire! Is the worst over yet?
The Aurors Weekly, the crime-reporting newspaper went on to say….
Martial Law activated through the discretionary powers of the DMLE Director.
Wizengamot is to convene in a week for an emergency session to decide the fate of the captured insurgents.
The Witch Weekly on the other hand, decided to focus on….
Fudge's Ministry blamed for their incompetence.
ICW to reconsider the placement of the prestigious Triwizard tournament that was about to be scheduled at Hogwarts.
But the cream of the crop was stolen by the front page of the Le Cri De La Gargouille, the leading French newspaper.
Wizarding France, Bulgaria and Ireland raises charges against Wizengamot member and philanthropist Lucius Malfoy.
French Minister of External affairs Sebastian Delacour turns witness and plaintiff.
British DMLE issues Capture-On-Sight order on Lucius Malfoy, who is deemed missing.
Meanwhile at Gringotts….
"Among House Malfoy's investments, you have an annual sixty-six percent royalty from the collective revenue coming through from these twelve companies," said the goblin whose name was Brassknuckle. "An annual ten percent revenue from Borgin & Burkes, an annual thirteen percent from Quidditch Quality Supplies, to mention the more relevant ones. Including gold and other liquid assets, counting for Insurance and House Costs adjusted for inflation, House Malfoy stands at fifteen million, eight hundred and twenty-three galleons, fifteen sickles and two knuts."
Brassknuckle lifted a piece of paper.
"As per the Clause 9 of your marriage contract, your filing for divorce for breaking the terms and conditions of the contract allows you to extract forty-five percent of the current liquid assets, but leave the others untouched. All investments that were funded through the Black Family and managed by Lord Malfoy are to be reverted back to House Black's control."
Narcissa nodded.
"I must say, Lady Malfoy," said the goblin. "You are indeed lucky to file this right now. We received a will and testament from Lord Malfoy shifting everything in the Vaults to Vault 116 registered to Draco Malfoy, your son, I believe. But we received a missive from the Ministry this very morning, saying that a warrant would be here soon, demanding an immediate sealing of the Malfoy Vault until Lucius Malfoy is pronounced dead. Fortunately, things are a bit rocky at the DMLE or the warrant would have reached here by now."
"Oh you know," said Narcissa, beaming. "Sometimes things can turn out to be quite serendipitous."