Chapter Text
Altair and Voldemort had joined the dinner party much later than planned. Altair was still wearing the dozing snake around his shoulders like a strange necklace with a mind of its own. Though that mind was currently supremely uninterested, not that snakes were usually very chatty.
Altair felt his nerves rise as they neared the dining room.
He’d be meeting his grandfather.
To calm his nerves he petted Styx, which only served to remind him of the big, obvious Gaunt ring on his hand.
When they entered the room no one was seated at the dining table, yet. Altair had imagined everyone would already have settled in, but instead they stood waiting. With the Dark Lord striding into the room most of the men took the knee, while the rest bowed deeply.
Altair carefully assessed those kneeling and those standing bowed. He quickly deduced that those most loyal, those probably sworn in more tightly, were kneeling: The Lestranges, including Bella as the only woman, his father and what he assumed to be Theo’s fathers.
“My friends, please rise.”, with a rustle of robes everyone stood. Now that they had been addressed there came answering ‘our Lord’s in greeting.
Altair felt the eyes of those gathered sharpen on him, as Voldemort grabbed him around the middle and drew him tight against his side, ”Narcissa planned this wonderful evening as a quiet get-together to commemorate our good fortune in finding the lost Malfoy.”, Narcissa politely inclined her head in response to her effort being mentioned.
Altair was studying the invited guests while Voldemort addressed them. He was especially interested in the stately, older gentlemen in the severe black robes that must be Cygnus Black, his grandfather. Steel grey eyes had not moved from his form once, but before Altair could decide what he made of the stern appearance of his grandfather Voldemort continued.
“Tonight, we shall celebrate not only the return of the lost Malfoy! May I present to you Altair Malfoy, who has done me the honour of agreeing to be my Lord Consort and promised his hand in marriage to my alter ego Athanasios Gaunt.”
His mother’s response was instant, her voice laced with sugary steel – sweet toned, yet harsh in intent, “I don’t remember signing any courtship or betrothal contracts.”
Voldemort arched a surprised brow at the gall of Narcissa Malfoy to question her Lord – and in public no less!
His mother’s sugary false laughter tinkled into the shocked silence, “To think our Altair hasn’t even had the chance to meet his grandfather? Let us postpone such discussions for after introductions have been made.”
The words echoed the sentiment of her laughter – that this was not to be taken seriously quite yet. That they were like overeager teenagers announcing their deep love and intent to marry.
The Dark Lord! Altair swallowed nervously.
Narcissa strode forward, completely disregarding the powerful Dark Lord and grabbing her son’s shoulder to draw him over to his grandfather. Voldemort let it happen, stoically, but their bond was taunt and strained with suppressed emotion.
“Altair, son, this is my father Cygnus. Your grandfather.”, she said.
Altair was quick to offer a hand to shake. He could not imagine himself hugging this stern man, as Narcissa und Lucius had done after finding their son.
Both of them had always appeared aloof, cold and stern from the outside, the little affection they publicly displayed not indicative of a more tactile and warm relationship in private. Yet, it had not been out of the realm of possibility for them to hug in private.
Cygnus on the other hand? He could not see this straight spine relax and melt into a hug.
Altair had just thought that, as a very pliant body melted itself to Cygnus side, while they shook hands. Bellatrix hand claimed the space to Cygnus left and had moulded her body to her fathers stern figure.
Cygnus did indeed soften none, but he also did not protest his daughter’s behaviour, which could not have been proper. He took it in stride as he said in a rough voice, “I cannot express my joy in seeing you returned to your parents and to our family.”
Altair couldn’t help but think the turn of phrase funny – this man appeared to indeed have trouble with expressing joy, but his handshake was firm and he felt as if he tried to convey his feelings with the solemn shake of their hands and the slight emphasizing pressure of his hands, accompanying his words.
“Narcissa, don’t you want to officially introduce us, as well?”, Bellatrix had little patience, but Altair couldn’t help but be a bit surprised that she would take part in this blatant disregard of their Lords announcements.
He felt the Dark Lords presence at his back, like a storm brewing. He wondered why Narcissa had remained unchallenged for drawing him away like this. Or – worse – her words.
But on the other hand, Narcissa was his mother. Altair was still very unsure about their relationship, but he was certain that his mother would hold a unique power over her Lord – he was after all Lord Voldemort’s Horcrux and now, his intended.
Voldemort had certainly been assertive and had taken it for granted that he could make demands to Altair’s time, as he trained him. He had also not cared about propriety as he had engaged more intimately. But he seemed to shy away from cursing his mother on the spot – not that he tried to hide the desire to do exactly that. His bond burned with it, making Altair’s back itch, as he was introduced to his family.
His mother’s annoyed tone drew Altair back to their introductions, “Bella, you have already met Altair. He also never needed an introduction to you.”
“Cissa! Are you calling me infamous?”, Bella had clutched her chest, as if her poor heart was palpating with such shocking accusations. Her comically widened eyes found her nephew again, before a huge smiled split her face, ”Only ethics divide fame from infamy. I think the Dark Lord Consort would understand violence in the name of loyalty.”, Bella giggled, as she left her father’s side to hug her nephew, ignoring her sister’s disdain, “So fame it is!”, she squealed.
She drew away only to press kisses on both his cheeks, ”Congratulations on the fantastic news! Such a perfect match!”
Altair felt Voldemort carefully approach from behind, as Bella opened up the old discussion again, uncaring for her fuming sister. It relieved him from having to engage with his overeager aunt.
“My Lord, congratulations on this most auspicious union! The house of Black is honoured!”, Bella straightened and with a sombreness Altair had never seen his aunt display she raised his fist to her heart, raised two fingers to her left eye and said, “Toujours Pur.”
Altair had seen this twice now. After having viewed it performed that second time with the Tonks’ he had asked Draco. He had explained that it was a traditional Black family greeting, which had touched Altair remembering how Draco had extended it to his estranged aunt, that had been removed from their family. He had understood it as a kindness on his brother’s part, to give his aunt this feeling of belonging again.
The greeting itself was easy. It was the years of practicing it – the ritual of it – that made it so special and sacred to the Black.
The fist to the heart was a nod to unity in the core and strength in heart. The fingers were raised to the left eye to indicate the ‘left hand path’ an esoteric concept, which Draco had not explained fully. He explained that it was a commitment to the power of the Black family and magic beyond concepts such as good and evil. That to honour that power, a Black owed to condense it – to be true to concepts of purity. It was his explanation of why the one initiating the greeting used two fingers and the one answering the greeting used only one – it symbolised that two would merge to one. Every Black present would join in their unity by raising a fist to their heart.
It was a greeting used only amongst members of the house of Black and for Bella to extent that greeting was akin to welcoming the Dark Lord as a Black among Blacks. A greeting rarely extended to non-blood Blacks. Spouses would receive it from time to time, but they knew better then to initiate it or even participate, if they were not the recipient.
Voldemort hesitated only shortly his eyes flickering over to Cygnus a smile on his lips, before solemnly raising a fist to his heart, then a finger to his eye, answering the greeting he had probably witnessed multiple times before, “Toujours Pur, Bella.”
Altair had raised his fist to his heart, along with his reluctant mother, his brother and Cygnus, a toujours pur chorused back by the gathered Blacks. It was a curious feeling to participate in this traditional greeting for the first time, when his betrothed was welcomed by his aunt. His betrothed!
A shudder went up his spine.
After the greeting the other guests approached with their own introductions and greetings and congratulations. Narcissa had been backstabbed by her own sister, who had invited the attention back to the announced union and so all the guests made sure to bless their union with their well wishes.
Altair was proud to receive the reverential congratulations of their high society guests, but it also drove home what a tremendous occasion this was – that he had tied himself publicly to the Dark Lord. On a whim.
It had not felt quite so monumental when it had been just the two of them earlier. He had felt irrevocably entwined with the Dark Lord, anyways. Making it official had seemed like a logical step. Especially with his mother’s words in the back of his head.
Narcissa was certainly not happy with the speed her son was tumbling into the Dark Lords arms – though she must have realised that this was where this was heading in the end.
Altair was consumed by his thoughts as he was introduced to both the Notts and the Greengrasses and Lord Parkinson.
Theo Nott’s fathers were an interesting match. Tiberius was an older gentleman with white, short-cropped hair, that was slightly darker at his temples. His arctic blue eyes were very alert, as he mustered the way his younger husband warmly greeted Altair.
Alois Avery-Nott, the Lord of house Avery, was a strikingly handsome man with his strong jawline, straight nose and full brown hair, matching warm chocolate brown eyes. Theo had inherited much from the Avery-side of the family, but the tall built and sharper, more gaunt features were clearly Tiberius Nott’s markers.
Altair had to wonder shortly how it was biologically possible, that he could see both his fathers so clearly in his schoolmate’s features. He supposed… magic?
Something uncomfortable stirred to life behind his sternum, but before he could linger to long on it he pushed it to the side and focussed on the firm handshake he received by Parcival Parkinson. He was a heavy-set man, that was apparently the source of Pansy’s pug nose. He had raised Pansy alone, after having lost his young wife in the upheaval after the Dark Lords fall.
Next to introduce themselves were the Greengrasses. They were a beautiful couple, but though Pansy’s father seemed rough around the edges, he had appeared much more sincere in his well-wishes. Both Gareth, as well as Jane Greengrass where around the same age as his parents and Gareth worked closely with Lucius. Altair also knew that Astoria and Draco were courting. The families were closely associated, but Altair could have sworn that they were suspicious of him.
But the introductions weren’t finished. The Lestranges decided to introduce themselves last, having kept to the back, though by all rights they should have come first after Bella.
The brothers were handsome in a similar way to Avery-Nott, but their lot in life had been much tougher and it showed. Azkaban had left their signs on them and for the first time Altair had to wonder, if Sirius tattoos weren’t a sign of teenage rebellion, but something different. He could see ink peek out under Rabastan’s collar, where a rune sequence was running up the side of his neck and Rodolphus’s knuckles were adorned by runes of a similar style.
It strongly resembled what he had seen on his godfather. He wondered how Sirius was doing with his punishment and before he could reconsider, he asked after the official introductions were out of the way.
Rodolphus threw his wife a quick glance before turning back towards his nephew, ”We are not torturing Sirius daily, if that is what you are asking. Rabastan is talking a lot with him. About his youth, our time at Hogwarts the war…. What he was done.”
“It isn’t torture, but to him it is torturous.”, Rabastan chuckled, but there was no joy in it, “We used to be friends when we were little, but he became all twisted up when we got to Hogwarts. He has a lot of regrets, and his past is a story of loss, betrayal and failure.”
Altair was unsure how to feel about Sirius. He had gotten some distance between first learning of what the man he had thought to be his godfather, but turned out to be his great uncle, had done.
Cygnus was clearly not interested in discussing his nephew and disgraced head of house. Instead, he asked about Altair’s upcoming return to Hogwarts and if his family shouldn’t reconsider.
Altair was relieved to have Narcissa quickly stop that line of inquiry, “Of course Altair will return to Hogwarts. Dumbledore has been ousted and we have come to an understanding with the current… administration.”, Narcissa didn’t even deign to say McGonagall’s name. And she was right – in a way she was merely her function now.
All of them had brought their children, but when it was time to move the party over to the dinner table Altair was not seated with them at the end of the table. Instead, he found himself placed to Voldemort’s left, facing his father on the other side, seated to Voldemort’s right.
Narcissa sat directly to Altair’s left, followed by Bella, Rabastan Lestrange, Avery-Nott, and Jane Greengrass.
On the other side of the table to Lucius right sat Cygnus, Rodolphus, Parkinson, Nott and Greengrass.
The far end of the table was filled by the children – Draco, Theo, Pansy, Daphne and her younger sister Astoria.
It made conversation with those further down the table uncomfortable, which meant that most of the conversation was centred to Voldemort, his parents, his grandfather and aunt.
The polite conversation Narcissa attempted felt stilted and the tension would have been unbearable, if not for Bella.
Bella was completely unimpressed by her sister’s clear apprehension to the announced betrothal.
“Narcissa may have kept me at arm’s length, waiting for your go ahead to allow us to meet, but she told me so many exciting things about you.”
Exciting things? What was Bella on about?
“She told me that you have been practicing dark rituals with our Lord?”, Bella eagerly looked at Voldemort, looking so besotted, it made Altair almost wonder, if he had something to worry about.
“Indeed. Altair proves to have both exceptional instincts for duelling, as well as a natural command of his magic that lends itself to a quiet intuitive approach to ritualistic magics.”, Voldemort casually laid a hand on Altair’s, before raising it and pressing a kiss to his hand, flashing the room with the engagement ring. Bella noticed immediately.
Narcissa looked as if she had swallowed something bad, when her sister reached over to snag Altair’s hand after Voldemort had let go of it.
“What a beautiful heirloom ring!”, she gushed, but before his aunt could touch it Altair had snatched away his hand.
“Don’t touch it!”, he hissed in Parsel. He had used the language so much the last few days, it appeared it had come natural when concerning things he associated with Voldemort, such as his Horcrux.
Voldemort chuckled at his betrothed protectiveness over the ring, his satisfaction clearly flowing through their bond, as he leisurely told Bella off.
They had gotten through their starter course when the conversation turned back towards Hogwarts.
It was Voldemort that breached the subject, ”Altair, soon you’ll return to Hogwarts. I have been discussing possible security concepts with your father. One of our concerns has been regarding the faculty.”
Altair sat up straighter. The DADA teachers had been one of the biggest dangers throughout all his years at Hogwarts.
“I wanted ask you before confirming our first choice for DADA.”, Bella bounced excitedly in her seat at those words.
Before either her Lord or Lucius could explain she interrupted, “Please, please, please say yes!”, Altair raised surprised eyebrows at what he quickly understood would be the suggestion here, as his aunt continued, ”We’ll be having so much fun! All the magic I could teach you! And in the evenings, you could join Rodo, Rab and me for a bit of friendly duelling practice.”
Altair turned to his father, “You have planned for Bellatrix Lestrange to teach at a school were your sons attend?”
Bellatrix was known to be unhinged – a murdering, torturing death eater! Yes, she was his aunt and yes, he had agreed to have her and her husband for dinner, but he was under the protection of his family here. Was it safe to leave Bella alone in a school?
Lucius was unfaced by Altair’s concern, “Yes. I have been shielding you from her, not out of concerns for your security, but because you made it clear that you were not willing to meet her. You were holding Harry Potter’s grudges, still.”, Lucius eyes were full of calculation again, as he studied his son, “I believe you have moved past many of your old… hang-ups. And I do believe that you would be much safer with your aunt around to protect you. Bella is an exceptional duellist, trained by our Lord himself. She is not afraid to protect you by any means necessary.”
“But it is up to you, my soul.”, the way Voldemort hissed the endearment in their shared language, a language only the two of them understood, never failed to send shivers down his spine, “Will you allow Bella to become a teacher at your school?”