Chapter One
She sat at the window in the Lestrange manor. She watched as the people outside would mingle and communicate. She watched as children ran through the streets and paraded around in their shorts. She simply watched the outside world move past her. She saw the green fields regrow each summer, she saw the strawberry fields get harvested, and she’s seen the babies grow into toddlers and now into children. Time seems to have moved fast around her as she dwells by the window constantly, she’d hide behind the curtain and peek her head out quickly. It was only in the evening that the people would see the young beauty sit on the bay windowsill, with her black hair tossed over her shoulders and her brown eyes gazing softly at the horizon.
Celeste grew up to be a fine lady, a proper heiress of both the house of Black and of Lestrange, for she is the last of both houses. Everything must be perfect about her, she must be strong, formidable, relentless, and cruel to fill the spots of heirs before her. Her uncles never had children and were caught by the aurors and thrown into Azkaban, making it easy for her to claim heirship as soon as she is sixteen years old. She’s privately tutored by the greatest in France and goes to Beauxbatons school of magic. She’s adept in potions, defense of the dark arts, runes and fencing. Her mother praises her for her grand knowledge, constantly giving into her relentless daughter’s pursuit of knowledge and the constant drive to persevere.
Her mother, Rosamaria, was shipped to France as soon as she approached her 5th month of pregnancy. Her father found out about the pregnancy and couldn’t bare to fully disown her from the family, so he shipped her off to France where she gave birth to her daughter and raised her in the old Lestrange manor covered in fine greenery. Her family covered up the whole thing, only listening to her pleading not to tell the father’s family, for they would truly take her daughter away. It was no secret that Regulus Black was courting her, with the way each Hogsmeade weekend he’d transfigure some buttons into a bouquet of flowers. They truly in love, no one realized it due to the grand focus on the war that plagued the entire wizarding war. No one would notice the shared glances, the picnics in the forbidden forest, nor the way they’d always gravitate together.
So, for Rosamaria’s parents it wasn’t hard to guess who the father was, with the letters of courting and the love letters strewn on her desk. Regulus, the closed off spare heir of the house of Black expressed his true words via writing, and with each stroke of his quill made her fall more and more in love with him. They were to marry in May and take refuge from the war in France. Her family thought it delightful to keep the Black heiress, his daughter, under their family name until her coming of age ball where they would reveal her other parentage, and that is something so few know. But Rosamaria was nothing if not cunning as her old house was Slytherin and she put a stop to their scheme as soon as she gave birth, writing in plain as day, Celeste Cassiopeia Black. Years after the birth, Rosamaria’s parents died, leaving the Lestrange title under her belt, making her the now Lady of the Lestrange family, and her daughter the heiress. Her plan paid off at the end.
There were many preparations made after she officially became heiress to the Lestrange family. Classes, so many of them to the point where her thirst for knowledge was sufficiently quenched. She soaked the knowledge like a sponge, her tutors were proud in her and made sure that once she makes her debut into politics, they will be eating out the palm of her hand. She excelled in her etiquette classes, under the grand tutorship of the Lady Zabini, during her vacations in France, often accompanied by her son, Blaise.
Begrudgingly she must call him a friend since he is the only person she could really consider as a close friend. As she sat at the window, she couldn’t help but ponder about the situation she found herself troubled by. Her mind was plagued by the simplistic resolution, she has to go to Hogwarts for the torturous tournament to take place. But alas she must last a bit longer till she can at last relieve her frustration, in two days she must be back at Beauxbatons and find herself surrounded by her classmates.
God why must the summer end, the days filled with consistently keeping up with training, and dueling, her lessons as heiress she enjoys so much. Her goal is when she gets back to Europe and takes her rightful two seats in the Winzengamot and delights in the expression of one Albus Dumbledore.
A knock on the door interrupts her train of thought on this issue.
“Come in,” She replies smoothly as she stands up and smooths out her skirt, the hem of the long black skirt grazing her ankle. She sighs and slides her velvet platforms back on, which she had taken off when she entered her room. She quickly tosses her hair back behind her ears and puts on a slight bit of cherry ChapStick. She finishes just as the door opens and her mother appears.
Her deep brown eyes gaze down at her daughter softly, her eyes crinkled with smile lines. Rosamaria Lestrange was beautiful at the age of 32, having had her daughter just after 7th year. Her wavy deep brown hair softly laid on her shoulders, her posture amazing as she gracefully walked in, her heels slicking against the wooden floor. She stops right before her daughter and smiles down at her she places her hands on Celeste’s shoulder gently. Celeste can’t help but smile back, her dimples that her mother loved oh so much showing.
She got those from her father, along with her sharp big grey eyes and a penchant for the intricacies of the quill. From her mother she got a penchant for sharp objects, something that gave her mother a heart attack when she was a mere toddler learning archery alongside Blaise, that one summer with one of his many stepfathers.
She shakes her head slightly, pushing those thoughts out of her head. Instead focusing on her mom beaming at her daughter as she gets her in a short embrace, squeezing her for a smidge before letting go and she very quickly looks her over. She licks her lips for a moment before speaking, the lilt in her soft voice as bright as day.
“Darling, it only feels like you came home yesterday, and now you go back so soon. So today me and you are going to have a picnic in the meadow, get changed into something more comfortable than those” She points out, Celeste looks down at her outfit, a white loose sleeved shirt with a black corseted vest, that hugged her waist, and a long plaid brown skirt.
Not exactly a good outfit for some frolicking with her mom, so instead she quickly and excitedly picks out a black flowy skirt, some shorts, and takes off the corseted vest. She disappears behind her changing wall as her mother instead looks to her daughter’s packed trunks, The creamy color and the deep brown leather stands out. She brings one down and it lets out a thud. Celeste, already knowing what her mother is doing, just gets her Mary Janes on, no heel in sight, which makes her sigh in relief.
A few short clicks later and a thud shows Celeste that her mother finished her great task. She steps out from behind the changing wall and does a quick twirl for her mom, who laughs and gives a pointed look when her skirt goes up enough to show the dagger strapped to her thigh via garter. Celeste grumbles and removes it.
Her mother raises a finger and an eyebrow, leveling her with a stern look,” This was to be a surprise, but you don’t need your dagger, I’m bringing the Sabre’s along so we could duel. I have to make sure you’re keeping up with your lessons”
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The meadow is a safe space, filled with flowers, tall grass, and all else that makes the spot beautiful. The morning dew glistens with the Sun which shines upon this spot. The grass rustles against her shins as the walk on the worn path of rocks. Her mother walks a little before her, her hair whipping with the wind, she holds a picnic basket, the corner of a plaid blanket peeking out. As the path slowly becomes more overgrown as they go deeper inside, they reach their spot, one solely for them to exist without pressures.
They quickly get out the blanket, laying it down gently onto the bunch of flowers and clovers. The basket is placed on it quickly as her mom pulls out two Sabre’s from it. She raises an eyebrow and passes one to her daughter, a glint of a challenge in her eyes. Celeste adjusts her grip slightly, and they walk a distance from one another, both striking hard and ruthlessly, there is no leeway in an actual battle. The Sabre’s collide and the familiar sound of them striking one another fills the air.
They duel passionately and stay in the meadow for hours, till the sun has long set. They bask in their last full day together in peace.
Celeste won the duel.