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Dataset card Data Studio Files
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He pulled on his outer robe. "I do not want to be under Snape’s gaze—or that hooked nose of his."
"Then don’t be cowed by him."
"I didn’t say I would be cowed." He seemed vaguely affronted at the mere suggestion. "But defying him... that’s a good idea. If he looks at us with that glare of his, we’ll just glare back at him."
As it turned out, Snape did not pay them much attention at the family dining table that morning. He was too solicitous of Merope, who was feeling very unwell due to pregnancy sickness. It was a condition that potions could aid somewhat, but no one had yet found an elixir that eradicated the symptoms in every witch.
"There has not even been any further experimentation in the subject—at least by Hogwarts Masters or any noble’s chief potionmaker—in about... eighty years," Snape said, very displeased. Merope had left the room to rest and spare the others the unpleasant sights of heaving.
Tom threw up his hands. "And what happened eighty years ago?" he exclaimed. "It does not surprise me at all that these nobles would not have their potionmakers work on a problem that only affects witches."
For once, Hermione could not object. "I agree, in fact," she spoke up. "I do not know this, but I expect that if you investigated the matter further, you would find that there has been little magical research into numerous "witches’ problems’ since... that date."
Tom looked at her in surprise and approval. Under the table, he squeezed her hand.
Merope was feeling better by mid-morning. She emerged into the family parlor, the very one that she and Severus had shared the night before. Tom and Hermione were in the library.
"Have you found him yet?" Severus asked without prelude.
Merope shook her head. "I don’t know where he could be. It troubles me."
"That makes two of us," Severus growled. "I understand why you accepted his oath, but I never thought he was trustworthy."
"Nor do I, Severus! I have told you before, I agree that he is likely self-interested first and foremost. My brother and father treated his family extremely badly."
"You have not, though. He has been here for several months now. He should not be disappearing."
"He may be in his Animagus form. It’s possible that he has not left the grounds."
"He still owes you an explanation if he is. There may be good reasons to skulk about as a rat, but they are the sorts of reasons that you should be informed of."
"Spying," she supplied.
"I suppose I could release Hermione’s cat," she mused, smirking at that idea. "He was very determined to root out all the rodents in the castle when he first showed up!"
Severus frowned at that memory. Yes... the animal had indeed. The cat had located rat holes in his private office in Parselhall, in fact, which had astonished him; the walls were supposed to be magically sealed against rodent damage.
Ordinary rodent damage, at least.
"Merope," he said urgently, "do you think that Pettigrew could have been in the castle as a rat before?"
"What do you mean?"
Severus explained the chain of thoughts that he had just had. Her face creased in a concerned frown as he mentioned the fact that his office had been charmed to keep out vermin. "But an Animagus is different. He would have magic of his own. Vermin wards are not as strong as wards that can keep out witches and wizards, of course."
Merope’s face was deeply troubled. "I think... that this idea makes sense," she said, her brow creased. "And it further supports the idea you had that Pettigrew is an indiscriminate gatherer of information, which he hoards for whatever purpose may someday arise."
"When he shows his face again, I can question him," Severus said aggressively.
Merope considered. "Let me think about it. I will first want to hear what he has to say about what he’s doing today. If his explanation does not make sense—or if he admits to sneaking about as a rat—then we can pursue it."
"I think we should pursue it anyway," he said in a controlled tone, "but your decision is final."
A sharp knock interrupted their conversation.
"It’s Hermione and I, Mother," Tom said from outside the door.
"Come in, then," she said.
The door swung open, and they entered and took their seats next to each other on the same piece of furniture. Both of them were clutching large books. Merope smiled at the sight.
"We were just discussing Pettigrew’s unaccountable absence," she said to Tom and Hermione.
Tom gripped his wand, and his eyebrows narrowed. "I hope that when he turns up, he is held to account. He may have lived in the wild for years, but he does not now."
Severus regarded the young wizard with approval.
"He will certainly have to answer for himself," Merope said briskly. "But in the meantime, I believe you had something that you meant to tell me at the breakfast table, before I took ill?"
Tom had intended to mention his idea about the Muggles that he had talked about with Hermione last night, but his mother had had to leave the room before he could. He rested his right elbow on the arm of the sofa and considered his words. The subject could not be one that his mother would enjoy.
"I was thinking about the fact that my Muggle father had a wife who was with child."
Merope’s eyes widened in surprise. "Tom! You did not tell me that she was with child."
"I honestly did not think about it," he said. "I had... other things on my mind that night, after I came home. But she was rather far along."
"Then the child has been born! Tom! She might not have a home—"
"That is exactly what I was thinking about," he said. "If the child is a girl, she might need a roof over her head. They might," he corrected. "Of course, she might not want to live in this particular barony, and the Muggle lord might have to release her...."
"I will certainly make the necessary inquiries," Merope said, gazing at her son in surprise that he had thought of something like this. "She may have family of her own who took her in, or the child might be a boy, but it’s something to investigate."
"I just thought that, since he abandoned us to poverty, it wouldn’t be right to do the same thing," Tom said in a low voice, his eyes fixed upon his lap. "The child is a Muggle, but it’s still related to me."
Merope nodded. "I will definitely look into this matter."
Another knock sounded on the door, this one unexpected to all four occupants. "Yes?" Merope said, surprised.
"My lords and ladies," croaked a house-elf named Fionn, "Lord Regulus Black, heir of the Noble House of Black."
Tom did not seem wholly shocked by Regulus’s appearance, Hermione noted. She still did not believe that it meant anything when he pointed out the star that was Regulus’s namesake last night, but it was an interesting coincidence, certainly....
The door swung open. The elf bowed low to Merope and made her exit at once, snapping her fingers to close the door behind her and give the lords and ladies their privacy. Regulus was dressed in his heavy black traveling cloak, the one that had a large hood that hid his face—but he had lowered this hood as he entered the room.
"My lord Regulus," Merope said, surprise still in her voice. "You are most welcome as always. Please, take a seat."
He swept off his cloak, which he left on a peg on the wall near the door, and sat down in the closest chair to the family that was available.
"Would you care for refreshment?" Severus asked. "There are a couple of bottles of wine in this room, and the elf could bring something else—some ale, for instance—"
"Thank you, but it is a bit early in the day for that," he said.
"As you like. What brings you here, my lord?" Merope asked.
"A couple of things, my lady," he replied. "First of all... I wanted to tell all of you in person that I have become concerned about the source in Malfoy Manor."
Severus’s gaze was fixed upon him immediately. "I was not expecting to hear anything immediately," he said. "One of the questions I sent by you is complicated, and they are all topics that Malfoy and Lestrange may not discuss frequently—if ever."
"That’s true," Regulus said, "but Kreacher, my house-elf, has told me that he cannot make contact with the Malfoy source at all."
Regulus was grim. "They cannot always meet at the same time, as you know, so they leave coded messages in their dungeon-level meeting room in Castle Draconis for each other. That’s how Kreacher knows when the Malfoy elf has something to report. He has left several coded messages, but they go unanswered. I am starting to fear the worst, frankly."
"It has been... ten days," Severus said. "Are you sure you should worry this soon?"
"I have a bad feeling about it," Regulus said. "The elf has never taken this long to reply to a coded message. A meeting between the two may take some time to set up, but this has never happened before."
Severus groaned. "I hope you are wrong, Lord Regulus."
"So do I," he said.
"Do you think you could subvert another elf in Malfoy Manor?" Hermione suggested. "Surely they have more than one."
He shook his head. "The one Kreacher talked to was very unusual, Lady Hermione. Most of their kind are utterly devoted to their masters, even in the face of abuse. We got lucky with this one."
"Let’s hope that there is just a delay," Merope said.
"It is possible, but I would not expect it, my lady." He sighed. "Now... the other reason I am here. I understand that I owe you congratulations"—he managed a smile for Severus and Merope.
"It is early yet, but I thank you," she said.
He nodded. "Of course, this raises the stakes, as you know far better than I."
"We do indeed."
"I do not know—have you mentioned my offer to Lord Thomas?"
Merope glanced quickly at Tom, then back at Regulus. "I’m afraid not, my lord. We have been busy indeed since you last visited."
Tom raised his eyebrows at her. "What does he mean, Mother?"
"I’ll let him explain," she said. "And Tom, I did mean to tell you myself, but the subject would have immediately distracted us from other matters that we needed to talk about more urgently."
Tom gazed at her for a moment longer before deciding to accept this. He turned to Regulus inquiringly.
"My estranged brother, Sirius, is going to marry soon," Regulus began.
Hermione nodded. "His godson is a friend of... ours." To her delight, Tom did not dispute it even in a way that would be apparent only to her.
"So you know that already," Regulus said. "Good. What I mentioned to Lady Riddle last summer was contingent on the courtship ending in marriage, and since it will, we can move ahead. My lord father, who is now the head of the House of Black after my grandfather’s murder, required some persuading... but he is willing to offer a formal alliance with the House of Black. I myself am already allied with you, of course, but this would be the House itself. Both of our families are ancient and magically powerful. Parseltongue and Divination run in your line; shape-changing runs in mine. An alliance between the Serpent and the Dog might strike fear even into the Malfoys and Lestranges."
This felt rehearsed to all four of them; Regulus’s language was grandiose, but it also seemed sincere.
"My parents would likely prefer an alliance between one of my brother’s future children and one of the twins that your ladyship expects," he continued, "but if they are not going to be the immediate heirs of your line, then that consideration takes precedence."
Hermione understood at once. "Lord Regulus, are you talking about an alliance between Sirius’s future child and Tom’s and mine?"
He nodded. "I mean no offense to you, but you must know what my parents think about blood purity. However, they are willing to set that aside in the service of getting the Malfoys and Lestranges out of power, now that they have murdered my grandfather."
Tom spoke up. "Lord Regulus, what do you think are your parents’ intentions after that? If we make this alliance, and Malfoy and his supporters are removed, what does your lord father intend?"
Regulus studied Tom, perfectly aware of what he was truly asking. "My father would like to see the old Wizengamot reinstated," he said. "After that... the body itself should choose the high lord—or lady. That was traditional."
"Indeed," Tom said. "It is important that we restore the old traditions that served the magical community so well, not replace one lord who is unanswerable to the rest of the wizarding nobility with another." His words were calculated and his tone hard.
"I understand you very well, Lord Thomas," Regulus said.
Merope spoke up. "You must have more details about this proposal to offer to us, Lord Regulus," she said, trying to be conciliatory. "What does your family expect—or desire?"
"What we expect is that the alliance will be with your son’s heir, my lady." He gazed pointedly at Tom. "If that’s not proof of my family’s respect for yours, I do not know what would be."
Tom considered that, also thinking of the discussion he’d had with Hermione the night before. If their heir married a Black, that would unquestionably prevent the Snape twins from considering themselves as realistic rivals. And it also does mean what Regulus said it means, he thought. If they want an alliance with our heir, it very well could mean that Orion isn’t counting on walking into the high lordship. He must realize that we may want it, since he specifically wants this alliance with the heir rather than another child.
"Our heirs are not always based on birth order," Merope pointed out.
He smiled; he had personal knowledge of that. "Of course. I would not have a contract that named a specific child of your son’s until that was settled."
Hermione spoke up. "If your brother has more than one child of the opposite sex to our eventual heir, I would like our child to have a choice."
Regulus considered that before nodding. "That is reasonable. And if the children—his and yours—are all of the same sex, we’ll renegotiate the contract at that time."
Hermione was surprised that Tom was so readily assenting to this. She would have expected him to object strenuously to choosing the future of a child of his, since he was so reluctant to accept her at the very beginning of their relationship. But she remembered their discussion from the night before. This proposition was likely a relief to him. The House of Black was a great wizarding noble house, after all. And these children do not exist yet—not even to the extent that Merope’s twins do, she thought. It is very abstract now. Tom is thinking strategically, first and foremost.
"I have to ask," Severus said, a wry gleam in his black eyes, "does Sirius know that you are making these plans for his family? Does he realize that your father intends to forcibly pull him back into the House of Black?" He sounded very much as if he knew the answer.
Regulus grinned back. "He will learn at the proper time. Frankly, my brother needs to make a stand. He has had some sort of dispute with his friend Potter—which I think is a very good thing; Potter is a deplorable influence—and I think the time has come for him to return to his family and do his part in the war that we all know is coming."
After Regulus’s departure, Hermione could not help but chide Tom teasingly. "I am very surprised that you consented to that," she said, smirking at him. "I seem to recollect that you were not too enthusiastic about our betrothal when it was first made."
Tom gazed at her. "Well, this is very different. Presumably, our children would grow up knowing Sirius Black’s children. They will be friends. I would not have it otherwise, if this is going to happen," he added. He shifted his gaze to Merope. "Our parents made the contract to get you into Hogwarts and to secure spouses for two people who, let’s face it, would not have been considered by anyone who was both magical and noble. Obviously we would now—"
"You would," she corrected. "I still would not."
He looked pained at that representation but did not dispute its truth. "Perhaps," he admitted, "but even so, it would be because of the political upheaval that our betrothal caused. Malfoy and his allies are getting worse, but others, like the Blacks, are moderating some of their views because our family has made it acceptable for nobles not to be pureblood."
"You are half-blood. That could have happened anyway, simply due to your blood."
"Maybe, but I really think it is because of you." He gazed at her brown eyes. "If we had never met, perhaps I would have eventually married a pureblood... but I think in that case, my blood would have remained an "aberration’ to people’s thinking, something that happened only once before the pattern reverted to its old form. With you in the family—and Snape," he acknowledged somewhat grudgingly—"we have changed the pattern."