Chapter Text
Susan frowns as she scans the letter. "It's family business, Hava." She says. "I really don't think we should be getting involved. The Blacks can get touchy about things like that."
I look at her with my best unimpressed eyebrow raise. "Come here a minute." I say, grabbing her wrist and dragging her back to the library.
We peer around the door frame. Padfoot and Amelia Bones are sitting exactly where we had left them, heads bent over some rare legal tome that holds precedents Susan and I are too young to know about - which means it's either really sexual or really gory, or both.
They're both entirely oblivious to everything, so it's lucky for them that we have some level of integrity (and by that I mean Susan has some level of integrity), or we could probably get away with a lot.
They've been going back and forth about one line for the last twenty minutes, occasionally Summoning another book to back them up - without breaking eye contact. This is not the first time this has happened since I've been back for the holidays. Last time they were talking for three hours.
Apparently the Black library is an excellent resource for the Head of the DMLE. I call bull.
So does Susan.
Amelia says part of the reason for her visits is trying to get Padfoot back into the Auror Corps, and to let Susan have some time with her friends.
More bull.
Much as I love Susan and she loves me, Hannah Abbott is her bestest friend to end all best friends, much as Co-Co is for me.
I've seen Co-Co twice since we got back from school, and Susan has seen Hannah once. We've seen each other four times.
Susan watches them silently for a minute, her usually reserved aunt's eyes flashing, Padfoot's brow furrowing. Even Amelia Bones's usually perfect bun is frizzing a little, and she's undone the top button of her high-collared robes. Padfoot has kicked off his shoes.
Oh, and did I mention that they're sitting on the couch?
Susan sighs. "Point taken. Alright, what are we doing to make a bad impression on your cousin's grandparents?"
I grin and turn around. Right before us is the fireplace, totally unguarded and totally usable. The Floo powder is even out, glittering a tempting green from its ornate pot. It's like they want us to go adventuring around the Wizarding World while their backs are turned.
All we have to do is go through the Floo, kidnap Co-Co, bring him back here and we can just have fun. Simple. Easy. Daphne can't even bully me for it being excessively complicated.
I get two steps towards it before Susan is grabbing me by the back of my dress like I'm a naughty kitten that needs to be scruffed. "No." She says flatly. "You absolute lunatic. No."
Wow. Spoilsport.
I thought she was down for chaos. And she is, but I forgot one key thing - she also has a healthy sense of self preservation. Which is such a killjoy sometimes.
I let her drag me into the library, even though ordinarily I would be scrabbling to make her stop interrupting Padfoot and Amelia because we have a bet going that sometime soon their arguments are going to turn into something else and Susan is screwing with the results.
Cheater.
"We are going to go to your godfather." She says, pulling me inorexably deeper into the library. "We are going to get him to take us through the Floo, because I know you and you'd take us off course to Knockturn Alley for a laugh if it got into your head."
Nothing like being called out to ruin your day. I sigh, and tug away from her. What is it with, well, literally everyone around me and thinking I can't walk under my own power? Or, at least, not trusting me to walk to the right place.
"Aunt Amelia!" She calls out. The arguing promptly stops. "Sirius?"
Two heads pop up from the couch. Padfoot takes one look at my face and groans. "What did you do now, Hava." He turns to Amelia Bones. "Mels, I am so sorry for whatever has gotten into my goddaughter's head."
Wow.
Rude.
Where's the trust?
Also - Mels. Called it. They have nicknames now.
"Co-Co asked for help!" I defend myself. "I'm being a good cousin."
Padfoot groans even louder and slumps back on the couch, his hands coming up to cover his face. "Pup, stop doing things that mean I have to be a responsible adult. I hate being a responsible adult."
There is a sharp pop, and Kreacher appears with an envelope in his hand.
"A letter from Miss Cissy to Nasty Blood Traitor Master." He mumbles to the carpet. Padfoot takes one look at it through his fingers and starts banging his head against the back of the couch.
Madam Bones just looks amused at his torment, smoothing the flyaways back into her bun and settling the sharp pleats of her robes back into their usual shape. "I believe that is the cue for Susan and I to leave you to it, Sirius." She says, checking her watch. "I have to be back at the Ministry soon anyway."
Oh.
I slide my eyes sideways to where Susan looks a little crestfallen. Ha! I told her we should have just gone straight through the Floo. Now she won't be part of the chaos.
"Can't I stay, Auntie?" Susan asks as Madam Bones stands up. "Please? We were going to see Draco, I just didn't want to go through the Floo without telling you first."
Madam Bones shakes her head. "No, Susan, you have not been invited to visit the Malfoys. We can arrange a playdate another time but I have a meeting in twenty minutes and you have homework to do. Say goodbye now."
Glumly, we hug and say goodbye. I promise Susan to tell her all about whatever happens in my next letter or the next time we see each other - whichever one comes first. She tells me to give her regards to Co-Co, which I promise to do.
Padfoot comes up just then, the opened envelope in his hand. "Cissa's invited us over for tea, pup." He says, his mouth twisting like he's bitten into something sour. "From the sounds of it, her parents are being themselves, so brace yourself."
Oh great.
Whatever that means.
Considering that Abraxas was Like That and the Malfoys got on with him pretty well, Cygnus and Druella must be Awful.
Padfoot turns to Madam Bones. "It was good to see you, Mels." He says, kissing her extended hand. "I'll send the books on to Bones Place shall I?"
"That would be most appreciated." Madam Bones returns, a smile touching the corners of her lips. "Until next time, Sirius."
Then she is hustling Susan into the Floo, and Padfoot is hustling me upstairs so we can change for afternoon tea because apparently what I'm wearing won't do. Fucking Purebloods. I like clothes but this is going too far.
I get into pretty green robes with golden vines embroidered on every flounce and wrangle my hair into a neat French plait. Padfoot hands me a cloak as I come out, a cornflower blue one with lace and ribbons galore on it. He's changed too, into formal afternoon robes instead of the casual ones he'd been wearing before.
Fucking wizards.
We troop down the stairs, through the Floo and come out in Malfoy Manor to Co-Co's anxious face. "Vi-Vi!" He shrieks, and cannons into me.
I, of course, end up on the floor, or I would had if Padfoot hadn't been prepared and caught me.
But I bounce up again, throwing my arms around my favourite (except To-To) cousin. "Co-Co! I missed you!"
"Orion and Walburga were like that as children when they were separated, you know." Comes an unfamiliar male voice.
Padfoot's groan and Aunt Cissa's longsuffering 'I did not know that Father', are enough to clue me in. As is Co-Co's quiet squeak of horror.
I peek up from his fluffed-up hair.
Yep.
There are two unfamiliar people standing with Aunt Cissa. The guy looks a bit like Padfoot, and the woman has the same hair as Aunt Cissa.
They both have sour lines graven into their faces as if neither have ever learned how to smile genuinely. Polite smiles, scowls and blank masks only.
"Ew." Co-Co says with feeling. "She's my cousin."
I nod emphatically. Disgusting.
We recieve only two looks that say very clearly 'we are indulging the silly little children'.
"Perhaps now." The woman I assume is Druella says. "But it is a very distant relationship and you may feel differently later."
"Have you considered it, Sirius?" The man asks.
"Nice to see you too Aunt Druella, Uncle Cygnus." Padfoot returns with his trademark 'fuck you' smile. "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you? And no, Hava will make her own choices when she is of age."
The man and woman look dubious. "Potters are notorious for their ill choices." Druella says, her lips curving into a moue of disapproval.
Cygnus nods beside her. "Just look at that one's father. All of Wizarding Britain, centuries of pure blood, and he settled on a-"
"Why don't we retire to the conservatory for tea?" Aunt Cisa interjects hastily.
Damnit!
I wanted to curse him.
Or set Lumi on him.
Either. Both. I'm not picky.
Padfoot lets go of his wand, looking as disappointed as me.
Oh well. I'm sure there will be plenty of other opportunities.
I console myself by imagining what curse I could use as we all trail into the conservatory.
There's so many rare plants in here that I reluctantly give up the idea of cursing anyone in revenge today. If a single leaf is damaged, Aunt Cissa will be out for blood. I am not risking that today thank you.
"Here, let me look at you properly." Druella says, settling herself onto a delicate little chair and gesturing to a spot on the floor immediately before her.
I reluctantly move to stand in front of her with my hands clasped in front of me.
"Where's your pet peacock today, Cissy?" Padfoot asks as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.
The smile he gets back could have cut diamond. "I am afraid Lucius and Abraxas had prior committments today." Aunt Cissa says stiffly.
Co-Co sighs, no doubt bemoaning that neither of them had thought to rescue him as well.
I would make a smart comment but Druella chooses that moment to grab my chin and pull me closer to her.
"Pretty little thing, aren't you." She says idly. No doubt trying to imagine what incest babies with Co-Co would look like.
I can just see Padfoot and Aunt Cissa exchanging glances behind her.
Aunt Cissa clears her throat. "Mother, perhaps-"
"Let her." Cygnus says sharply. "There is no better eye for bloodlines than your mother's."
She subsides, and a pit opens in my stomach. Oh that's not good.
Aunt Cissa is a badass, anyone who can silence her is Dangerous. I didn't like these two anyway.
"Yes, very much a Potter," Druella muses, her nails digging into my cheek as she peers at me, "I do believe she does have Dorea's nose."
Cygnus scoffs, his eyes lingering on my hair. "A faint resemblance, if at all. She takes after Charlus if anything - that's his mother's hair."
I meet Sirius's eyes from across the room and we share a mutual moment of disgust. He grins at me and nods. Fuck yeah, here we go.
I pull away, ignoring the sharp red lines of pain that erupt on my face from Druella's claws. "Actually, I look like my mother." I say, smiling Mum's smile at them. "And I came here to see my cousin. Good day, sir, ma'am."
They both stare at me in shock. I can just sense the incoming lecture on manners. Oh great.
Time to fall back on one of my favourite messing with people tactics. They're old enough to have known human Tom right?
I stroke Lumi's head idly as I curtsey, tilting my head to the side. It's something about the eyes I think - it took a while to get it down, those curious eyes that had looked down at me as he had tried to kill me. I managed it by the time I was ten, though I hadn't really used it on the Dursleys. I use it shamelessly at Hogwarts.
It has exactly the desired effect. Cygnus stutters, Druella does a double take, and they are both struck dumb.
I take advantage of their silence to grab Co-Co's wrist and drag him out of the room.
***********
Unfortunately, no matter how much chaos we cause, nothing can stand against the inexorable Family Meeting.
The day dawns disappointingly bright and clear. If I'm going to be the main character, you'd think the weather could at least be appropriately grim and disgusting to match my mood. What is the point of everything if you can't have a bit of pathetic fallacy?
But I digress.
We have breakfast in our PJs, which is nice. Padfoot let me pick breakfast, so I picked scrambled eggs and baked beans because they're familiar and nice and they feel like not psycho creepy car crash people. No I'm not nervous at all.
We eat in silence, and then Moony bids us a very cheerful goodbye as he goes off to spend the whole day being a super nerd instead of having to deal with Padfoot's psycho relatives
Padfoot and I wave him off like we do almost every morning, but rather more glumly than usual. What I wouldn't give to have a convenient doctorate to be working towards instead of having to deal with Padfoot's relatives.
As soon as he's Apparated away, we climb back up the stairs to our rooms so we can get dressed.
It's a whole production, to the point that Bitsy has to help me with the million trillion pearl buttons up my back, and let's not even think about my hair.
Actually, I take it back. We're doing this. Because I look awesome and it's the one good thing coming out of this fucking car crash.
I'm wearing a long, swooping wizard's robe. The good kind, not the pathetic stupid academic gowns they gave the poor children in the movies and inflict upon us poor innocent students here.
It's as black as what's left of Voldie's soul, with an epically high collar that makes me feel like some sort of Victorian femme fatale vampire lady. The skirt is not full, but it's heavy, and it sweeps behind me on the ground with all the drama my cold dead heart could want.
The sleeves come down to points over my middle fingers, in very dramatic witchy fashion. And best of all, it fastens up the back with an absolute ton of pearl buttons which are a pain to do up but look fucking awesome.
I'd tried to wrangle a cloak with a Dracula-style collar out of Padfoot, but he'd pointed out that unless something went really wrong the car crash was happening inside. So no cloak, which was very sad.
So sad, in fact, that Padfoot had bent to my teary, soulful eyes after twenty-three seconds and promised to get me the cloak after the car crash is over.
Spine of steel, that one.
Because I'm a kid, I shouldn't really be having an updo at this kind of thing...but because I'm Madam Potter I can get away with it if I want.
Because wizard etiquette rules.
Disgusting.
We compromise, with half of my hair curled and flowing free, and the other half piled on top of my head. Padfoot gave me some really fucking awesome hair pins to go in it - jet and black diamonds, an heirloom of some sort.
I'm about 70% sure they're cursed. But like...some sort of 'you gotta be a Black or else you'll regret putting your sticky little paws on it' curse. Which isn't better but it's a little safer for me than another kind of curse.
Thank you, Grandmother Dorea.
Not that Padfoot would let a curse with a chance of hurting me within halloing distance.
I'm pretty sure he gave them to me to make some sort of point.
The point is I look fucking awesome and I love it.
Not just because it makes me feel like there is armour between myself and the ensuing car crash. Power dressing does wonders for your ability to deal with car crashes. I can be Madam Potter and not Hava, and enjoy the mess this is destined to be without it affecting me.
A rap on the door. "Pup?" That's Padfoot's voice. "Are you ready?"
No. Of course not.
Bitsy adjusts a final hair pin, and then pokes my hair to test if it moves. It doesn't. Good old magic - better than hairspray. She nods. "Yous is ready, Sweet Little Lady Hava."
I slump down in my chair, and she hauls me back up by the collar of my fancy ass robe.
Then she hands me Lumi, who slithers into her accustomed position on my shoulders - that had been Padfoot's main argument against giving me a Dracula collar cloak, and damn him if it hadn't worked.
I need my emotional support sarcasm snake okay? Especially when I can't get to Nagini easily (and what the fuck is my life that it takes a freaking Basilisk for me to feel safe).
The hint is duly taken. I stand up and open the door.
Padfoot is just as splendidly and gloomily dressed as me, in high-collared black robes with the Black crest in...that black thread is shimmering suspiciously. I don't even want to know what it is. Knowing wizards it'll be something that'll blow my mind and I don't have time for that today.
He holds out his hand. "You look splendid, pup. Knock their socks off yeah?"
I nod and take his hand. We walk down the stairs in silence, just the swish of our robes and Lumi's idle hissing. Sometimes Padfoot asks me what she's saying, but not today.
His lips are thin.
We stand, still silently, in the hallway in front of the door. Despite the house's makeover everything suddenly feels very creepy and Gothic. Vampiric. Interview with a vampire-esque. Stupid Lestat. I hate internet fun facts.
"You look good." I venture after a few minutes. "Intimidating. Like you're about to go and murder a bunch of people."
The corner of his mouth twitches, but he stays pale and grim. "I feel like my mother." Awkward silence. Which is weird because that has never happened with me and Padfoot before. It's always been easy. His shoulders slump a bit. "I appreciate the sentiment though. Thanks, pup."
His hand moves up like he's about to ruffle my hair, but it freezes halfway there, no doubt anticipating Bitsy's revenge should he mess with her masterpiece. He settles for resting his hand on my shoulder instead.
Usually visitors can come in through the Floo, but this is Official Family Business. Or something.
So through the door for each and every one of them it is. I draw my shoulders back and tilt my chin up, doing my best creepy Gothic child (aka Wednesday Addams) impression - the Voldie and Bellatrix impressions can come later.
Padfoot's helped me with the Bellatrix one, and he kindly brought down Walburga's portrait so I could get live reactions for my Voldie one.
The knocker falls hard against the door with a sharp rat-tat-tat. Padfoot nods to Kreacher, who swings it open without even his usual cursing. Apparently Padfoot cosplaying as his mum is enough to mollify him for the day.
It's the Malfoys, of course.
If it were just Co-Co and his parents I could probably get away with greeting Co-Co like I usually do, but Cygnus and Druella are looming over their shoulders, so Co-Co and I just shake hands awkwardly. Better not to give them any ideas, or excuses for shipping.
I cannot believe Drarry shippers exist in this world. And they're blood supremacists. Which is sad because I read some good Drarry fics in my time and now fucking Cygnus and Druella are ruining everything.
Back to Drapple, I guess.
Kreacher, wearing a clean uniform and not muttering for once, leads them through to the Central Hall. That's just a fancy way to describe the gilded cage we all get locked in for the duration of the meeting. So basically until Padfoot decides to let us go.
The windows are magical ones so you can't escape through them, the walls are covered with portraits of past Blacks, and the less said about the indelible scorch marks on the floor and vaulted ceiling the better. It does have really nice chairs though. The good kind, that you can sink into.
Apparently it had been hard wooden ones before because old Arcturus liked keeping everyone uncomfortable in the hope it would remind them to keep their tempers.
Padfoot prefers the approach of making everyone too comfortable to fall asleep, and also because it'll be funny to see them trying to keep good posture in the most ridiculous overstuffed chairs we could find.
After the Malfoys come two old women, one of them so wrinkled up that she looks like a disdainful nut. All you can see of her face is wrinkles and two disapproving, beady little eyes. Irma Crabbe, and her delightful mother-in-law Violetta Bulstrode, as Padfoot had related to me during our info dump.
Both of them had hated each other's guts, but they had hated his grandfather Pollux more so apparently they live together and torment his portrait and each other. I think one of them might be my grandmother or great-grandmother somehow but I'd zoned out by that point if I'm honest.
Then Cedrella and Septimus Weasley, with their eldest surviving son, and his family, all of them absolutely delighted to be here and causing trouble for the more conservative Blacks after so long.
Cenric Weasley and Peony Weasley nee Blaylock are quiet, with familiar quirking grins. More importantly, they have the cutest little four year old, Cedrella II. She's adorable and I love her so much at first glance.
But then Kreacher opens the door right into Septimus's back so Bitsy hustles them all down to the Room Where Shit Happens and the hallway is clear for the most scary-looking vampire horror movie Addams family type woman I have ever seen in my life.
Her salt and pepper hair is pulled up and back in a bun so tight I wonder if the smoothness of her skin comes from the facelift that has to be giving her. She has black eyes rather than Black eyes (I know, I'm hilarious), the deep dark kind that look like they're hiding monsters under their smooth surface.
Her robes are like spun shadow about her, even to the point of looking a little...blurry where they pool about her feet, as if they are trying to escape and rejoin their brethren in the shadows that seem to be lengthening about her.
Kreacher is bowing so low his nose is touching the floor.
Padfoot bows to her, and kisses the hand that is imperiously extended to him. "Aunt Cassiopeia." He says. Ohhhh shit it's her! "How good of you to come."
She raises one perfect eyebrow at him, the kind that says 'we both know just how fat that lie was', and does not reply. Instead, those black, black eyes turn onto me, scanning me from head to toe. I can almost feel them lingering on Mum's hair and the Potter features and everything that screams just how much I don't belong with the Blacks. Holy fuck is she scary.
"You don't look much like Dorea." She says. I do my best not to glower at her, and to my surprise there is the slightest flicker of amusement. "Though you have her frown, I see."
She sweeps another disdainful look at Padfoot and vanishes down the corridor to the Room Where Shit Happens.
Well.
That happened.
Then the Tonkses arrive, followed by Lucretia and Ignatius Prewett, with Callidora Longbottom hot on their heels. Barty Crouch, thank all that is good and holy, did not deign to respond to his invitation with anything except a stock letter saying, essentially, I am a Very Busy and Very Important Man please write to me again later.
Good thing no one actually wanted him there.
Hesper Black arrives dressed in what looks like a 1920s male suit, pulls a face at Kreacher, shakes Padfoot's hand and vanishes into the Room without another word. Padfoot shrugs when I turn my 'what the fuck' face to him. "She's just like that." He says, and turns to shake Araminta Meliflua's hand.
She's got the same black eyes as Cassiopeia, but softer features, and dark brown hair cut into That One Long Bob that all the female anchors have now. She's also wearing a Muggle pantsuit.
Fuck yeah, she seems awesome. Her husband, Archie Platt, is wearing a Muggle suit, and their eight year old sons Charles and Christopher are looking judgementally at the horror movie style environment. I mean if their grandmother is fucking Cassiopeia Black, it makes sense for them to be unimpressed with the creepiness.
She's fucking terrifying.
Then there is a long break, so long that I start to wonder if anyone else is coming. And if maybe someone should be in The Room Where Shit Happens to stop 'shit' from being murder - I can almost feel the glares if I think hard enough.
But right as I'm about to start shifting from foot to foot, the knocker goes again. Kreacher mutters as he opens the door this time, pulling it so slowly and somehow managing to make it creak despite the hinges being shiny new and so smooth even tiny me can move the heavy door without difficulty.
Colour me suspicious of Kreacher.
It has what I presume was his desired effect, the group of people on the front door all look kind of spooked. It...probably doesn't help that Padfoot and I look like something out of the Addams Family - or maybe some creepy horror movie. Or vampires.
And Lumi probably doesn't help.
Most of them are wearing entirely normal Muggle clothes, nice ones, but distinctly Muggle. Suits, skirt suits, and a frilly dress for the girl I assume must be Lauren. The only one in robes is the greying man with Padfoot's eyes.
He walks in without hesitating, tipping a sardonic smile to Kreacher before holding his hand out to Padfoot. "Marius Black. Nice to finally meet you, Sir Black."
Padfoot takes the hand and shakes it. "Please, call me Sirius. Sir Black was Grandfather and I think we can agree that neither of us wish to take after him." Then he uses his other hand to bring me forwards. I grumble a little, playing up the sulky kid because I can see the two children's eyes about to pop out of their heads. They snigger a little at my misbehaviour, and the tension in their parents' shoulders eases ever so slightly at the display of kidness. "This grumpy pants is Hava Potter, my goddaughter and provisional heir, and the granddaughter of Dorea. She's just finished her first year at Hogwarts."
Marius's smile tightens a little at the mention of Hogwarts, but his expression stays mostly open. He bends down to shake my hand, and his eyes warm a little bit as he looks at me. "Nice to meet you, Miss Potter. Your grandmother was the only one of my siblings to stay in contact after I was disowned. You took after your mother more than her, I expect, but you have the exact same way of holding yourself."
For a moment, we're just silent. His eyes are misty, no doubt recalling the good old days before he was outed as a Squib. Whether that means they were actually good or just...well...Black, is something I don't want to think about too hard.
Then he straightens, and half turns a little to gesture at the uncertain-looking couple behind him. "This is Miriam, my daughter, and Rob Wallace, my son-in-law. The two rapscallions with them are my grandchildren Lauren and Caleb, and this," he pauses to hold out his hand. The greying woman takes it, tucking herself into his side with a shiver, "is my Ana."
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you all." Padfoot says, bowing to them. They all look a little bit freaked at the very wizardly solemn wizard acting very wizardly at them, but it is what it is. I can get away with not acting like a horror movie extra because I'm still a kid but he really can't. "Please, follow me, we are very nearly late."
Wow, way to go Padfoot. You sound even more like a creepy horror movie character.
But we all trail down the hall after him like good little horror movie characters. Or ducklings, if you prefer a less morbid analogy.
I find myself next to Lauren. She's very young-looking even by my usual standards, with big blue eyes and fluffy brown hair and the cutest little rosebud mouth. I can see Marius (and presumably the Blacks) in the lines of her face, but puppy fat still obscures a lot of it.
Still there's enough of a resemblance to set Padfoot's hell relatives squawking.
"Hi." I venture. "So, you're going to Hogwarts in September?"
A shy little nod.
Oh she's precious.
Mine.
She's my baby.
No one at school is going to touch her. She's so sweet. New favourite cousin, sorry Co-Co. I need to start thinking of a nickname for her.
My brain goes to Lav-Lav at once. Ew. No. Ri-Ri? La-La? Oh that's kind of cute actually.
"Grandfather told me a bit about what he could." She says softly. "But he never went to Hogwarts. What's it like?"
I beam at her. "It's wonderful! You'll love it. The staircases move, and the portraits will help you if you get lost, and-"
"Pup." Padfoot says.
Oh. Right.
I wink at her. "Sorry, gotta be serious now."
She giggles, a tiny little sound that is almost a hiccup.
Padfoot opens the door to The Room Where Shit Happens and we are hit by a wall of sound.