Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the wizarding world	By : zoy_grey Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 10765 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own nor make profit off of JK Rowling's world of Harry Potter, the characters or the timeline. I do own some of the characters that are of my imagination as well as the plot that I came up with.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
A/N: I don’t own Harry Potter and any of the characters from the series. However I DO own a few original characters that were created by me for the purpose of this story.

Sometimes I will add small fragments from the books, but only when it will be really necessary for the story – trust me, I don’t like doing that. I prefer to wright scenes completely created by me, but sometimes it’s inevitable to put a tiny bit of the original text.

This story will have few parts and it WILL contain homosexual scenes (although it might take quite a few chapters to get to that point)! Don’t like it, don’t read it!

And the last thing, although I probably should have wrote that at the beginning. English is NOT my mother tongue! I’m trying my best not to annoy you with stupid spelling and grammar errors, but you have to admit that it’s kind of inevitable not to make some, from time to time.

CHAPTER 1

Hagrid was slowly reaching his destination – Godric’s Hollow. He lowered the flying motorbike, he borrowed from Sirius Black earlier that night, and could see the lights of the village below.

It all seemed very strange to the half giant, so unreal and unbelievable. Just a few hours ago Dumbledore called him to his office and told him that the Dark Lord attacked the Potters. Hagrid was horrified to hear that, that monster managed to do what he had been planning for months. The man knew the Potters were hiding in fear for their little son, but Hagrid never thought Voldemort would be able to really hurt them – after all, they were well protected. Even professor Dumbledore didn’t know their exact hiding place.

He was brought out of his thoughts, when he got closer to Potters’ house - or rather what was left of the house. The sight was awful. Broken windows and doors, destroyed furniture, but that wasn’t the worst thing. There, on the floor, was lying dead James Potter.

The half giant couldn’t take his eyes from the horrible sight before him. He knew the man and liked him, they were friends, but now he was dead. Hagrid felt tears welling up in his eyes, but then he heard a child crying upstairs. He quickly headed towards what seemed to be the nursery just to find the body of Lily Potter lying by the crib. The man could still hear the baby crying, but he couldn’t find it. He searched around the room and finally found the little boy tucked in a blanket lying a bit further from his mother. Hagrid picked up the child and examined him.

The boy was red on his face from crying, either from pain or being left alone in the house. Or maybe both. He had a cut, shaped like a lightning bolt, on his forehead, and it was bleeding.

The man held the boy closer to his broad chest and whispered “It’s alright, Harry. Yer safe now.”

Not wanting to stay any longer in the damaged house, he quickly got outside. All the time holding the boy close and blocking his view. Hagrid knew, that the child was too small to remember everything that happened that night, but it just didn’t feel right to let the baby watch his dead parents.

Finally outside, he carefully got onto the motorbike and made sure Harry was safely tucked in the blanket. With one last glance at the child, he took off.

Autumn has already started over a month ago and the temperature was getting lower and lower, especially at night. Strong wind was blowing and swaying tall trees surrounding the grounds, on which the big manor was located. However there was something more that made that particular night different than just weather. There was something that could be felt in the air, something that no one could really explain, but it made everyone feel uncertain about future.

The centuries old manor looked majestic yet ominous like everything that night. Thick mist was creeping around the whole building hiding the shape of the manor. One might even think the property was abandoned, since there seemed to be no lights on inside - except for the dim light in one of the chambers in the family wing of the building. The said chamber was rather spacious with walls covered with rich, deep green tapestry. There were four narrow, long windows on the eastern wall. On the opposite wall, in the centre were wide, dark wooden door and two comfortable looking couches on either side of the doors. Another, smaller wooden door was located on the southern wall between two big dressers. By the northern wall was a big four poster mahogany construction with green and black curtains. The top of the construction was decorated with a curved family crest with dragons and snakes. Between the posters was hidden a small, beautifully decorated crib.

A tall silent figure, clad all in black walked into the chamber slowly, leaving the door slightly opened. The person headed towards the small bed, carefully walking past the toys lying on the ornate carpet in the centre of the room. Taking the hood off the man revealed his handsome, pointed features and with concern in his grey eyes came to a stop by the crib to look at the peacefully sleeping baby.

The little baby boy was clenching and unclenching his small fists in his sleep, unaware of the world outside of his dreams. Cool air of the late October caused the boy to slightly shiver and quietly moan in displeasure.

Taking off his black, leather gloves the man took the soft, green blanket, which was kicked to the side of the bed, and gently tucked the baby in it. At the same time the man heard a quiet sigh of contentment from the boy, he noticed someone else’s presence in the room. Though he didn’t expect anyone in the manor to be awake, he knew exactly, without looking around, who entered the nursery. He could recognize that presence anywhere and at any time, that’s why he didn’t even find it necessary to turn around to look at the person and confirm its identity.

“What happened?” young, tall, blonde woman dressed in a deep blue nightgown stopped by the man’s side and glanced worried at the sleeping baby to check, if it was their son, her husband was concerned about. One look at her baby boy and she knew he was alright, but her worries didn’t fade away.

She knew her husband better than anyone else and it was obvious to her that something has happened, something bad. She put a hand on the man’s arm and looked at him, trying to get his attention. “Lucius?”

He wanted to assure her that everything was fine, but he didn’t really know what to tell her. He himself wasn’t sure what had happened and what will happen tomorrow, but he knew one thing – something big has happened and it might put his family in danger.

“It’s about our Lord…” he hesitated, unsure about the current situation.

“What are you saying? Did those fools try to confront him?” she tried to keep her voice down, not to wake up the boy, but at the same time she couldn’t contain her surprise. It was very rare that Lucius showed worries about the Dark Lord and his cause, which made the situation even more serious.

Not knowing how to explain it to Narcissa, he showed her his left forearm.

“This happened tonight. Father confirmed the same happened to his mark.”

“But what does that mean?” she lightly touched the traces of the slowly vanishing Dark Mark on the man’s forearm. Suddenly she looked up at him with wide eyes and asked “You don’t think they have defeated him? That’s impossible.”

“I don’t know really. It seems very odd for the mark to suddenly disappear, especially tonight.”

“What do you mean by ‘especially tonight’?” she asked.

“The Dark Lord planned to take care of the problem with the Potters.” Lucius looked again at his sleeping son and wondered what will happen from now on. He may be in his twenties, but he was old and educated enough to realize that if, by any chance, Voldemort had been defeated or captured while dealing with the Potters, then his family and many other Death Eaters’ families might find themselves in a very difficult position.

Observing the growing frown on Lucius’ face, Narcissa quickly understood what he was worried about. When she married Lucius she knew that the Malfoy family was always involved in shady business, but she also knew that they would do anything to keep their family from accusations. And more than anything she was certain that Lucius will be able to protect them from repercussions after following the Dark Lord.

“We will preserve. I know you will be able to keep us safe and our social status intact.” seeing him calm down a bit she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Isn’t it you, who always keeps saying that a Malfoy never frowns?”

“Oh we do frown quite a lot, but we never pout.” He looked at her surprised that she has forgotten such a fundamental thing about his family.

“But I will pout if you don’t come to bed and rest.” She walked to the door and wanted to go to their bedroom for the rest of the night. However noticing that her husband was still standing by the crib she turned around to face him. “There is nothing you can do about it tonight, Lucius. You might as well get some sleep now, because you will have quite a lot of work to do tomorrow…and tomorrow you will know more details about the situation than you do right now.”

He stood there silent for a long while and then looked over his shoulder at his wife, and smiled weakly.

”Go on ahead. I’ll join you shortly.” Seeing her open her mouth to protest he added quickly. “I just need some time with my heir. I haven’t spent much time with our son lately.”

Nodding in understanding Narcissa walked out of the room closing the door behind her. She honestly thought Lucius was a wonderful husband and father. True, he did devote a lot of time to politics and business, but that was only natural to do so in order to maintain the family’s fortune and reputation. For the last few years he also devoted much of his time to the Dark Lord and the war, and perhaps he did not spent as much time as Narcissa would like him to, with her and their son, but that was all done to protect their family. She knew that Voldemort could be frightening and cruel in his actions, but his cause gave their family and many others opportunity to live a better life – life harmonious with their nature. Having that in mind, Narcissa could not blame Lucius for his actions, but only support him in them.

After his wife left the chamber, Lucius looked at his baby boy once more and started contemplating the recent events again.

Being in the Dark Lord’s Inner Circle he was trusted with very delicate information and because of that he was aware of the turning point in the war that had just recently occurred. He knew that the Potters, or at least James Potter, showed interest to meet with Voldemort. He also knew that it had something to do with the Potter boy and the prophecy concerning Lord Voldemort. They have found out about the prophecy from Severus Snape.

What he didn’t understand was why James Potter would want to meet with the Dark Lord, after all, the later may want to kill Potter’s child because of the fore mentioned prophecy. Another matter was what really happened that night? Lucius refused to believe that James Potter alone would be able to defeat Lord Voldemort. He knew that his lord was supposed to go to the Potters’ hiding place, since the Dark Lord and his Inner Circle knew where they were hiding – that’s because Voldemort threatened to crucio Wormtail to tell him where they were.

Lucius was tempted more than once that night to go to Godric’s Hollow to find out what had happened to the Potters, but it was also too risky to be seen there. If anyone saw him there, he would be questioned how he knew where the Potters lived, and that would put his family and other Death Eaters in danger. That was an awful thought that haunted him now. It was unbelievable to think that the Dark Lord would be defeated, but if that was true Lucius felt dark times coming.

He was aware that quite a lot of the wizarding world would disagree with him and would be quick to celebrate downfall of Voldemort. True, he did not consider himself a fanatical follower of the Dark Lord, like his sister in law, but he truly believed that Voldemort’s ideals would help to reorganise the wizarding world to become “friendlier” for every witch and wizard.

The Malfoy family was known for keeping up a mask for the public, but Lucius had no problem with that, he could handle it, because he could always come back home to his family and be his true self. However, being forced to repress his true magical affinity at any time, because otherwise the fools in the Ministry might throw him to Azkaban for frightening Muggles and Muggle-borns. That was something he could not go along with. It was something he strongly believed needed to be changed.

The head of the Malfoy family brushed a white blond strand of hair off of his son’s forehead and focused on the warm, dark energy emanating from the child’s body.

‘I promise to do anything to allow you to live in a world where you can freely develop your magic according to your affinity. Even if I have to go to Azkaban.’

Making that decision he took out his wand and cast a tempus charm. Immediately numbers appeared floating in the air showing it was nearly 4 am.

Turning around he went out, closed the door behind him and made sure to check the wards that he cast around the nursery over a year ago, when his heir was born. Satisfied with the wards, Lucius headed to his bedroom to join Narcissa.

It was already early December and snow was covering the castle and the whole school grounds of Hogwarts. Although the nature and animals were falling asleep for the winter time, the life in the school was coming back. The whole wizarding world breathed with relief after the downfall of the Dark Lord. Finally after a long time of terror and battles between the Light and Dark, the students could safely go home for Christmas and spent holidays with their families. The happy atmosphere could be practically felt in the corridors of Hogwarts.

Down, one of such crowded and happy corridors, was walking professor McGonagall in her black robes. Just that morning she closed the list of students, who would be staying in school for Christmas.

Passing many students on her way, she observed their reactions and smiling faces. Something she would have never thought possible at the beginning of this school year. She was glad especially for Muggle-borns, who had nowhere to hide and no way to defend their relatives in case of Voldemort’s attack during war. It was a miracle that so many of them had survived.

Of course she remembered those who did not make it alive through the war. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lily and James Potter, whose death had finally ended the war, but was definitely too high of a price for peace.

Stopping in front of a stone statue of a gargoyle she was brought out of her thoughts, when she realised she wasn’t sure about the current password to the headmaster’s office.

“Lemon drops.” She said loudly, but to her surprise the statue didn’t budge from its place. A slight frown formed on her face. “Oh for Merlin’s sake! When did that password change?”

“It’s raspberry sherbet, this time.” Came a gentle answer.

Just behind her stood Albus Dumbledore in his purple robes. He looked at professor McGonagall from above his half-glasses and smiled softly with that characteristic twinkle in his eyes.

“How can I help you, Minerva?”

“I wanted to hand you the list of students, who will be staying at Hogwarts for Christmas.” She showed him a scroll tied with a black thread.

“Ah, thank you, professor.” The headmaster smiled again, activated the gargoyle with the password and stepped onto the stairs. “I have one more matter to discuss, Minerva. If you don’t mind talking now.”

“Of course, Albus.” The witch answered and walked up the stairs to the headmaster’s office.

The chamber was filled with different, old artefacts scattered around the room and stacked on many shelves and tables. Walls were covered with many portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. Some of the canvas were empty, other were occupied by moving figures.

Dumbledore walked over to his big, old desk, stroking Fawkes’ head, before he sat down in his chair. He unfolded officially looking letter and looked at his fellow professor.

“Today, I received a letter from the Ministry. I need to leave Hogwarts for a few days.” Dumbledore started explaining, still wearing his grandfatherly smile. “Will you be able to handle the school during my absence?”

“Of course. … Is it about Death Eaters’ trials?” She asked rhetorically, since she knew very well that for the last few weeks the Ministry has been focusing on catching as many Death Eaters as possible, questioning them and making sure all of the victims of the war were being taken good care of. When she didn’t get any reaction from the headmaster, she tried to speak again. “Albus?”

“Yes. Wizengamot is gathering next week for the trials.” He went silent for a moment before speaking again. “Some of the accused of following Voldemort might be quite a shock for the public.”

“Are there many of our students, Albus?” the witch wasn’t trying to fool herself by thinking that her former students were all good. Although she resented the thought of her students turning to the dark side and being evil, she wanted to know how many of them chose the wrong side.

“Unfortunately, quite a few. Mainly Slytherins, I’m afraid.” He looked at her and seeing her questioning look he decided to continue. “From what I know, among the accused are Lestranges, Rookwood, Mulciber, Malfoy, Rosier and unfortunately Severus.”

“Severus? Severus Snape?” she exclaimed.

“Yes.”

“But he is a teacher…here at Hogwarts. Students’ parents will not like it, Albus.”

“I know, Minerva. But don’t worry about it. Severus is on our side. I will defend him, as he was our spy among the Death Eaters.”

The witch wasn’t convinced by the headmaster’s words, but she knew better than to argue. She knew Dumbledore for a long time now and it was obvious to her that if the man said he was going to be able to defend the potions master, than he probably will be able to do that. However she was certain that some students’ families will still not be happy to know that a former Death Eater, spy or not, is teaching their children.

Professor McGonagall wasn’t sure what to think of Severus’ mission during the war either. She never expected Dumbledore to tell her all his plans and plots to rid the wizarding world of dark magic, but she was shocked and confused to hear that her fellow teacher and former student, Severus Snape, was a spy. She wanted very much to ask the man before her more about that revelation, but she knew Dumbledore long enough to read in his eyes the silent refusal to continue that particular subject.

“Did they already capture any of them?” she asked “I imagine some of them would try to hide to avoid the consequences.”

“I believe some will try to convince Wizengamot of their innocence, but there were some who tried to run or even fight back…like young Rosier.”

“Were the aurors able to capture him, though?” professor McGonagall remembered siblings Rosier very well. Both were quite advanced in transfiguration, and she feared to think that the knowledge she passed over to them might have helped them in doing evil things.

“Alastor Moody was responsible for capturing them. Unfortunately, young Evan was resistant and died fighting with the aurors. However, the rest of the Rosier family were called for questioning.”

“That’s just awful. It makes me wonder if we made some kind of mistake in the past. I remember all of them, Albus. I taught all of them, Lestranges, Malfoy, Rookwood, Mulciber, Rosier and Severus. Even Sirius Black, and now he’s in Azkaban. True, not all of them were my favourite students, mind you, but none of them seemed particularly evil at that time. A bit vicious at times and quite a few of them, extremely arrogant, but not evil…at least I thought so.” Said professor McGonagall hiding her face in her hands.

“Maybe we could have given more of our time to those students, but on the other hand, they were exposed to dark magic for too long. It’s decades of indoctrination about dark arts and blood purity in those families, Minerva.” The wizard stood up and walked to a small cabinet in the back of his office, opened it and looked inside.

Dumbledore’s face slightly lit up and the corners of his lips curled up a bit, showing the man’s contentment. He was looking at small vials filled with different coloured liquids.

The woman looked up from her place before the headmaster’s desk and her eyes stopped on the same cabinet Albus was staring at. She, however, couldn’t see either the man’s face expression or what the cabinet contained. The moment she made a few steps forward, since her curiosity reached its peak, the wizard turned around blocking the view of the inside of the piece of furniture.

Realising professor Dumbledore doesn’t feel comfortable to let her know what was hidden in the cabinet, she wanted to leave his office and walked towards the staircase. Then, all of a sudden as if she remembered something important, she turned around to ask one more question.

“Is he safe, Albus? The boy…Will he be all right with his Muggle relatives?”

Dumbledore looked at her from above his glasses and tried to read her expression, never losing the twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t worry. He is better off growing up with them, away from all the bad influence and popularity.”

“You’re right. Maybe he’s better off living with those Muggles. After all they are his family.” She bowed her head slightly and walked through the wooden door.

The headmaster made sure the wards around his office were up again and opened the small cabinet once more. The inside was filled with shelves and small drawers. Each drawer was marked with a piece of parchment with a name written on it. Dumbledore quickly opened over ten drawers and took out already written letters and a few small parcels. He placed the mail on his desk and organised it into groups. Some of them contained only a letter, others had a letter attached to a parcel.

Dumbledore made it his priority to look after certain families that helped the Light during war. He wrote letters to those families every one or two months to make sure they got all the help he could give them to recover after the horrors of the last few years. At times like these he was glad he never accepted the offer to become the Minister of Magic and remained headmaster of Hogwarts.

He had a few dark, embarrassing secrets in his past, but exactly because of those secrets he wanted to make the wizarding world a better place, even if only a little bit. Dumbledore knew that the best way to do that was to take good care of the young ones. He strongly believed that teaching them the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, light and dark, was crucial to make the world better. He also tried very hard to teach young witches and wizards that there was nothing wrong in associating with Muggles, and that Muggle-borns should be treated as equals by magical folk. Though, that seemed rather difficult, especially with most pure blood families. Dumbledore personally never understood why most purebloods disregarded Muggles and their culture, and loathed witches and wizards, who decided to live among Muggles. He was aware that some magical folk chose the dark side, but he himself could not comprehend why anyone would want to do evil things and hurt innocent people just because these people wanted to live in a good and safe world.

The headmaster gathered mail and went out of the office to send the letters.

As soon as the wizard left the room, one of the figures in the portrait snorted, moved from its chair and vanished from the canvas to visit its other portrait in its ancestors’ house.

In a long, dimly lit corridor an old house-elf was slowly polishing the golden frame of an old portrait hanging there. He was trying to get rid of a dark stain covering one of the frames, while the portrayed woman watched him closely.

“The same problem over and over again.” Complained an elderly witch from the painting still supervising the house-elf while he was working.

“I suppose some sort of renovation of that frame would be in order, Ursula.” Said a cold, calm voice.

The house-elf looked up at a different portrait and bowed to the person, who appeared on it just seconds ago. “Welcome back, master Phineas. How can Kreacher serve master Phineas?”

“I need to talk with your mistress.”

Not thinking much, the house-elf vanished with a quiet pop to inform his mistress.

About a minute later, at the end of the corridor, footsteps could be heard.

A tall, middle aged woman appeared at the bottom of staircase. Her long grey hair was tied up in an elegant bun on the back of her head, and she was dressed in a long, black dress.

She walked gracefully and stopped in front of the portraits. Glancing at the portrait of a witch, she quickly took out her wand from the left sleeve of her dress and waved casting a nonverbal spell at the stained frame. The grey-haired witch turned to face the house-elf and calmly gave him an order.

“Take that frame to Diagon Alley later, Kreacher. I want it renovated. It’s pointless to ask you to clean it every time, if that stain keeps reappearing.”

Kreacher bowed to his mistress and vanished with a pop, along with the said frame.

“You wanted to see me, great grandfather.” Asked the witch turning to face Phineas’ portrait. “Did something of importance happen?”

“Yes Walburga. It’s about that blood traitor son of yours.” The man snorted mentioning that particular relative of his.

“Great grandfather…please” the woman looked sternly at the man before her. She was a bit surprised to hear such comment about her firstborn coming from Phineas. To be honest, she must admit she herself almost lost any hope for her son to come to his senses. Merlin knows how many times she tried to explain to Sirius why his behaviour was unacceptable for a member of the Noble House of Black, but the boy simply refused to listen. Moreover, he chose to rebel in the most offensive way possible. If it wasn’t for her late husband, she would have gone to Sirius’ bedroom and blasted all of those disgusting photographs and posters of young, half naked Muggle women. But no matter what others thought she hoped deep inside that her eldest son would realise the mistake in his believes. She just chose not to share those hopes with anyone, and to keep them to herself instead.

“Forgive me Walburga, but he really is a disgrace to the House of Black! First he seems to be a blood traitor then he follows that old fool Dumbledore and now those Light wizards and friends of his throw him into Azkaban!” saying all of that the man got so agitated that he even stood up from his chair. The normally stoic and maybe a bit sarcastic wizard looked red on his face from anger.

Walburga found it rather difficult to stand still and keep a straight face after what she has heard. Her head was spinning trying to process the information. When the news finally registered in her mind she felt anger growing inside her. She wanted nothing more, but to blast quite a few nasty curses at someone.

“Where did you find out that revelation, great grandfather? I knew he was missing, but Azkaban?”

“I’m absolutely sure of that information. I’ve heard Dumbledore and McGonagall talking about Death Eaters’ trials and Sirius’ name came up.” The wizard propped his hat and sat in his chair again.

Walburga’s head snapped up immediately when she heard the words ‘Death Eaters’.

“Did they reveal who is suspected of following the Dark Lord?”

“Dumbledore mentioned Malfoy, Rosier, Lestranges, Rookwood, Mulci…”

“Thank you, great grandfather. If that is all the information, I would need to go now. I have a very important letter to send.” She cut him off as soon as she heard the few names of the Death Eaters. She politely bowed her head to her ancestor and walked away, down the corridor, towards the stairs to the kitchen.

Mrs Black practically ran down the stairs and stopped by the fireplace. She knew making a floo call was risky, but she needed to assure herself that her last family members were safe. The witch made the call, but no one answered. It seemed as if there was no one at the other mansion to answer here call. That however didn’t put her at ease. On the contrary, she felt as if the whole world was starting to crumble around her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Haunted by the most horrible thoughts, the witch went upstairs to the drawing room. Once there, she took a piece of parchment, a quill and wrote a short letter.

“Kreacher!” the woman called for the house-elf while she folded the parchment.

“Yes, mistress? What can Kreacher do for mistress?” the elf immediately appeared in the room.

“Take this letter and deliver it, please. You know to whom to deliver it.” She handed the letter to the house-elf, who glanced at the envelope with only three letters written on it – C.S.R., and he knew who he will have to look for. “Make sure no one sees you, especially aurors.”

When the elf vanished with the letter, Walburga leaned backwards in the armchair and silently looked outside one of the tall windows. She sat like that for the rest of the day, observing Muggle children playing on the street.

Kreacher came back the next day in the morning. Lowering his head he stood in front of his distraught mistress. The elf didn’t know how to tell her what he found out. He wanted to finally bring good news, but it seemed impossible. When he saw the witch wake up and open her eyes, still sitting in the same armchair, in the drawing room, he bowed to her and took out a letter.

“So they are alright.” She let out a heavy sigh of relief. So there was hope after all. Suddenly, she noticed discomfort showing in the house-elf’s behaviour. “What is it, Kreacher?”

“My mistress, Kreacher wasn’t able to deliver the letter…” he handed her the letter she wrote yesterday, along with the new Daily Prophet.

“What is this?...” she wanted to say something else, when she caught a glimpse of the front page. There was a big photograph of her eldest son already dressed in Azkaban inmate’s clothing. She quickly read through the article feeling anger grow in her again as she kept reading. When Walburga turned to the next page to finish that disturbing article, she saw another headline that caught her interest – Death Eaters’ Hunt! Walburga started reading that article too and became very pale. When she finished, she took out her wand, cast an Incendio, and watched the newspaper burn.

Kreacher frightened by the sudden mood swing of his mistress took a few steps back and found himself in the corner of the chamber. He watched as magic flowed around the witch’s body and destroyed some of the furniture in the room.

“The filth! Fools and ignorants! How dare they judge them! How dare they send them to Azkaban! Filth of the earth!” the woman stood up and walked out of the room, never stopping her insults.

For the next week or so, Walburga Black continued spouting insults about mudbloods and blood traitors. She asked Kreacher to keep her informed about the Death Eaters’ hearings, something the house-elf did obediently. He wanted to please his mistress, but he himself was worried about the well-being of the family he served.

For the first few days the results of the trials didn’t seem to be all that bad. Kreacher was delighted to inform Walburga that the Malfoys, Avery and Rosiers were found innocent and lifted of charges. However, some bad news came just hours ago. Not only some Death Eaters were killed by the aurors, including Evan Rosier, but also Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black along with her husband and brother in law were sent to Azkaban for torturing aurors Alice and Frank Longbottom.

Mrs Black was slowly losing her calm and reserved façade, she was gradually losing her mind, not being able to contact her remaining family. Pacing through the drawing room she stopped abruptly in front of a dresser, where family photographs were displayed in silver frames. Walburga picked up one of the photographs standing to the left and watched intensely at a young, beautiful woman with long waves of blond hair, playing with a small baby on the floor. The child was pale with short black locks framing its face. The baby looked as beautiful as the young woman, and was playing with glass balls filled with colourful flames.

Feeling an unexpected disturbance in the house’s wards and a familiar sound of flooing downstairs, she put down the photograph and walked out of the room, and continued down the stairs to meet with the visitor.

Walburga froze when she saw a slender figure, covered in black cloak, standing in the main corridor of the house. The visitor’s face was hidden under a hood, but Mrs Black recognised the person that stood before her. After all, she was waiting for that particular person to contact her for almost two weeks now.

“You’re alright.” The older witch let out a sigh of relief and walked a few steps down. She even let a smile grow on her face as she noticed the figure holding a small bundle of black and purple blanket close to its chest. “Thank Merlin! You’re both safe. My little baby boy is safe.”

Without a word the black clad person lowered its head and dropped the blanket to the ground. The soft cloth landed on the wooden floor and a glass ball fell out of it and rolled down the corridor. Just then the person seemed to have lost it all and collapsed to its knees, and landed on the floor, by the blanket.

“The aurors…they came to our home…they killed them…my baby…my son…this” the person pointed to the blanket “this is all I have left…and he…he is no longer here either…”

Hearing all of her worst fears coming true, Walburga stumbled and sat on the steps. She couldn’t and didn’t want to believe what she heard. It couldn’t be true – she lost her husband, she lost her sons, she lost her grandson. It truly was the fall of the House of Black. And it had all happened by the hands of blood traitors, mudbloods and all the other filth that polluted their world.

Gracefully coming out of the fireplace, Lucius cleaned his coat from the remains of the floo powder. He called for the house-elf and when she appeared he gave her his coat.

“What can Mitzi do for master Lucius, sir?” she bowed deep and took the coat from her master.

“Where are my wife and son?” he asked but immediately noticed slight hesitation before the elf decided what to say. “What is it, Mitzi? You’re not trying to tell me something has happened to them, are you?”

“No, master Lucius. Young master Draco is fine, sir…but the mistress…she has been very sad the whole day, master Lucius, sir. Mitzi tried to do something, but mistress didn’t want to be disturbed, sir.” The elf said quickly as if her life depended on it, but she also seemed genuinely concerned about her mistress.

The man knew what caused his wife to act the way she did. It wasn’t an easy time for all of them and they expected it to be difficult, but the situation seemed to get worst with every passing day.

“Thank you, Mitzi. Are they in the main wing?” the elf nodded and watched her master leave the chamber.

Heading to the main wing to meet with his family he tried to think of a good way to bring up the subject of his wife’s sister. He was aware that it was exactly the case that upset Narcissa. Not more than a few hours ago Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa’s older sister, was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban for torturing aurors. He honestly was pretty upset about it too, but for different reason than his wife.

Lucius never really had a good or close relation with Bellatrix, because the woman simply seemed to be mad. To be completely true with himself he had to admit there were some good things about her too – for instance, she loved her family, or at least those family members, who shared her believes. He saw many times how affectionate she was towards Narcissa, but apart from that she was crazy. He thought that if she got married her madness would go away, at least a bit, but the situation seemed more complicated. Bellatrix obviously did not love her husband. Lucius was glad he was able to meet a pure blood witch like Narcissa, who was beautiful, intelligent, and most importantly, who returned his feelings. Thanks to that he was able to control his magic from breaking loose and turning him mad, like his sister in law.

Entering the main hall he looked into the living room and saw his family. His father, normally reserved and stoic man, was sitting on the deep green carpet by the fireplace and played with his grandson showing him some rather colourful and impressive spells. The blond haired boy, who looked so much like his father and grandfather, giggled trying to catch some of the colourful lights made by his grandfather, Abraxas. To the side, on an elegant sofa sat Narcissa with a fake smile on her face, as not to worry anyone, but Lucius could see the sadness in her eyes.

He knew the situation has been tough on his wife. Their family was always being respected and now, all of a sudden, the whole wizarding world wanted to ostracize them, because they didn’t have the, so popular nowadays, love for Muggles. During those last few weeks both Lucius and Abraxas were called for a hearing and threatened to be sent to Azkaban. The both of them were hardly ever home now and Narcissa was left alone to take care of their son and deal with the public opinion. Thankfully, their trials ended successfully two days ago and they were free of charges. There were, of course, some who didn’t believe that the Malfoys were serving the Dark Lord under the Imperius curse, but it didn’t really matter to Lucius, as long as he was free and the majority of the wizarding world did believe that version of events.

However, he wasn’t able to use his influence in the Ministry to help Lestranges, or even Bellatrix alone. The proof of their crime was there and there was no denying it. At least not with Bella openly admitting her crimes with a wicked smile on her face. Lucius really couldn’t do anything for people, who didn’t want to cooperate and put up a little show to get themselves out of the big mess.

“Lucius, when did you come back?” the witch looked at her husband when she noticed him standing in the doorway.

“I got back just a minute ago. It was a rather long day.” He sat down by her side and kissed her forehead.

“Dobby!” Narcissa called for the house-elf and didn’t have to wait long for him to appear.

“What can Dobby do for mistress?” the elf bowed in front of the witch.

“Prepare dinner for my husband and inform us when it’s ready.” Without any response Dobby bowed and left.

“Thank you, love.” After about five minutes Lucius took a few deep breaths and found the courage to start the delicate subject. “I’m sorry, though. I tried everything I could to help her.”

Narcissa looked him in the eyes and smiled gently.

“I know.” She put her hand on his hand and turned her gaze towards Abraxas and Draco. “I’ve heard my sister admitted her crime…and that she was sent to Azkaban.”

Lucius saw in the corner of his eyes that Dobby appeared in the chamber and wanted to say something, but waited for the right moment to interrupt.

“How long?...How long is she to stay there?” she asked.

“…She got a life sentence.” Seeing her smile wither he squeezed her hand gently.

Knowing his wife the way he did, he knew she wouldn’t want to continue that subject. She already knew everything. Now she just needed time to get to terms with it.

Lucius stood up and walked towards the dining chamber, when he caught a glimpse of a very happy Dobby.

He knew the house-elf didn’t like Bellatrix, but that wasn’t a reason to show his happiness in front of Narcissa. The wizard was never very fond of Dobby – that particular house-elf simply seemed to hate serving any wizarding family or maybe he just hated serving a dark wizarding family. Nonetheless, his behaviour got on Lucius’ nerves.

The moment the house-elf noticed he was caught, his smile faded away and was replaced with fear. Dobby was afraid of the family he served. He knew very well they practiced dark magic and he really didn’t like serving them. It felt wrong to serve someone with such dark magic around them.

“Shouldn’t you be burning your fingers or something similar, right now?” said Lucius in a cold voice.

The elf looked up terrified at his master. It wasn’t a direct order, but it was obvious that Lucius expected Dobby to punish himself, although the elf didn’t understand what had he done to anger the wizard.

“You thought ill of your mistress’s sister, didn’t you? I believe that has upset my wife and that’s the last thing you should do, don’t you think?” the man sneered when he saw fear and, at the same time, the need to fight with the orders, in the eyes of the creature.

The sun was already rising on the sky though it was still quite early in the morning. It was December, Christmas to be exact. The whole area was covered in snow just like the tall building in front of which a person apparated.

The person was a man in his early thirties, dressed in a green cloak, red hair coming from underneath the hood. He walked briskly towards the house, wide smile spread on his face. It was definitely a good day – finally the Death Eaters’ trials were coming to an end, a lot of them were sent to Azkaban and thankfully some of the most dangerous at that. Of course there were many tragedies the last few years, but right now he could go to work every day, without having to fear for his family.

“Arthur! You’re finally home!” he heard his wife’s voice and saw her standing in the front door to their house. Behind her back he saw a red blur of hair running around the room, playing some game.

“Good morning Molly.” The man kissed her on her cheek and walked inside. There he saw little Fred and George running around the living room with a colourful book and Percy trying to catch them and get his book back. The older boy looked rather annoyed with the twins, but unfortunately for him, they were faster.

Mrs Weasley snatched the book from the twins, when they were running passed her. Immediately the younger boys started pouting, while Percy seemed grateful to his mother.

“Alright boys, don’t you want to see your Christmas presents?” asked Arthur, still laughing at his sons’ behaviour.

“YES!” came a loud chorus of children. Out of nowhere came running five boys, all too excited to get their presents.

“Go to the living room and wait a minute, while your Mum and I bring Ron and Ginny.”

Molly was already on the stairs heading to the nursery, but she slowed down so that her husband could catch up to her.

“So, how was the situation in the Ministry today, dear?” she asked when she noticed him walking behind her.

“Things are finally looking better, Molly. The most dangerous of them were captured and sent to Azkaban.” Reaching the small room in which stood two cribs – in one sat an almost two years old boy, in the other a five months old girl, he added “Now, we are all safe. Our children will be growing up in better times than we did.”

Arthur stood in the middle of the room and thought about his last sentence. Some would disagree with him. Judging by the state of their house, the seven of their children will most likely grow up in better times but definitely not in better surroundings than Mr and Mrs Weasley, when they were kids. Their house, the Burrow, was already rather cramp with all of them living there, and it didn’t even remotely resemble the old and grand estates in which Arthur and Molly grew up.

One would wonder why they decided to live in such awful conditions, especially with so many children, if the both of them came from rather wealthy pure-blood families. But Mr Weasley didn’t feel the need to explain to everyone the reasons for his actions. He had a small disagreement with his parents many years ago and even though his parents still wanted to keep in touch with Arthur and help him, they never apologized to one another. Later on, the war started and everyone had more important things to worry about than family quarrels. Now, though, seemed a bit too late to change things – Arthur’s parents passed away, Molly’s brothers were killed during war, and it only seemed wise to try and move on with their lives.

And that’s what Mr and Mrs Weasley planed on doing. They had a wonderful, loving family and they were happy with their lives the way it was. It didn’t even cross anybody’s mind to ask why the Weasleys lived in the Burrow instead of one of their old estates, and Arthur was grateful for that. Now he could focus on his wife and children, and on his job and hobby – Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Yes, he was satisfied with his life and it was going to be even better from now on.

“I hope you’re right, dear.” Mrs Weasley picked up little Ginny, while her husband picked up Ron and they joined their sons in the living room.

The children already helped themselves to the presents, only grinning at their parents, when they came into the room.
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Harry Potter and the wizarding world