A Pureblood Wedding
As she slipped on the bridesmaid's dress for the final adjustments, Selena felt the lace stretch across her chest. What the...? She swivelled on her feet to face the mirror and realised to her horror that her body had changed.
It had been less than three months since her last fitting. She knew she'd lost a little weight over the summer, as her muscles had been stretched by the daily barre au sol required of a ballerina at the Paris dance academy. Instead of the teenage body she knew, her reflection reflected the image of a woman. Her waist had been slimed by sport, making the growth spurt in her breasts even more visible.
If the effect of the white silk and lace dress she was supposed to be wearing for the ceremony was to be one of innocence and purity, it was not the case anymore. She looked like she was wearing fine lingerie!
“Maman! Maman il y a un problème avec ma robe !!!” she cried in distress.
“Oui, Selena what's ...? Oh dear, Salazar Slytherin!” she cried out bursting into the room.
Selena looked at her mother, her eyes wide. “Look at that dress! What am I going to do? I'm not going to wear this in front of the entire pure-blood society of England!” she exclaimed in panic. “You need to talk to Bella! Ask her if I can wear a shawl! The dress shrunk. Tell her I don't want to draw attention to myself! This is her day”, she pleaded.
The day before, Selena had had an encounter with her future sister-in-law, and it turned out that Bellatrix Lestrange was completely deranged. Bella was notorious for her unreasonable demands and quick temper. Any mishaps on her wedding day were sure to result in public torment for the offender. The cruelty of the Black family needed no further proof. And the whole illustrious family had been on edge since the defection of two members of the youngest generation: Sirius and Andromeda. Traitors to their blood were not to be mentioned. And any inappropriate behaviour could lead to serious consequences. Selena didn't envy the target they had set upon themselves, but she understood, given the toxicity of the Black family, that they had had to flee in order to survive.
“You're right, a shawl might do. But you heard her yesterday, a child wears a child's dress.” Isabelle Lestrange conceded.
Selena had no desire to embarrass her brother. She knew that the only way for the wedding to go well was to submit to the demands of the psychopathic bride-to-be. She had therefore agreed not to speak to anyone during the evening and to play the piano for the guests throughout dinner.
“After the humiliation you caused us with your behaviour in Paris, I think a punishment is in order. Since you like to perform, we're going to give you the opportunity to do so, but in an acceptable manner. Three hours of uninterrupted piano playing should be within your capabilities,” Bellatrix demanded scathingly.
Although not only had she never asked for the attention she had received from the Daily Prophet, and had not performed in Felix Blaska's ‘slightly too modern’ ballet, Selena knew that the easiest thing to do was to submit. In order to enjoy any kind of freedom for a while longer, she had to put to rest any doubts or suspicions about her. Apparent obedience would be her best weapon.
After Bellatrix's reproaches, Selena was lectured for a good hour by her father. He threatened her as usual. The threat of magical violence was customary in their family. He reminded her how lucky she had been to be able to enjoy her passion thanks to the flexibility of the Beauxbatons school. But now the time for dancing was over. She had duties towards her family. She had to clean her act up, at least for appearances sake. Complete her 5th year at Hogwarts without a hitch, make her debut in society next summer, accept the best match her father had chosen, finish school in her 6th year, get married and finally produce heirs. And then die.
What a blessing to be an heiress from a good family!
The tradition of ancient wizarding families was for the bride's family to organise the event. The reception would be held at the Black Estate, planned by the family of the bride, as was ancient wizarding tradition.
Orion and Walburga Black were to receive all of high society in their Sussex home on behalf of the bride's parents, Cygnus and Druella Black. The Black family's summer residence was a two-storey Elizabethan Manor built in 1598.
When Selena arrived on the morning of the wedding, by portkey with the rest of the Lestrange family, she was faced with a magnificent late 16th-century building. She was impressed by the upper part of the building, which was made up of different dutch gables. The grey stone of the building gave it a solemn, almost eerie appearance despite the summer season. She was struck by the exquisite charm of the garden, its fairytale-like appearance contrasting with the austerity of Black Manor.
Her family was soon welcomed by the Black family. Orion, Walburga along with Regulus, then Cygnus, Druella, Bellatrix and finally Narcissa.
Seeing Regulus was a source of distress for Selena. She had once had a crush on him when they were children and had spent her time following him when he stayed at their house in the south of France. When she met his grey-blue eyes, which contrasted with his pale skin and raven hair, she couldn't help but blush slightly as he had become a very attractive boy. Although only 15, he was slender and broad-shouldered. She had heard from Rabastan that he was a seeker on the Slytherin quidditch team. Admiring his stature, she realised that his physique must be the result of many hours of sports training.
The wizards soon went their separate ways, while the witches were asked to help with the final preparations for the bride.
After getting partially ready, Selena asked Walburga for permission to tour the property. She was left in the care of Narcissa, who showed her the garden and one of the libraries.
After a while, realizing that wandering through the shelves of books was second nature to Selena, Narcissa told her what time they should meet for the start of the ceremony and then left her to her literary wanderings. Her fiancé, Lucius Malfoy, was due to arrive soon, and although she enjoyed Selena’s company, she understood that her priority was to welcome the future master of her life.
Selena barely noticed her cousin’s departure, too engrossed in a practical book on the creation of magical objects. She traced the golden lettering on the worn spine with a delicate touch, her mind drifting between the words and the faint scent of parchment and aged ink that filled the room.
The soft creak of the library door opening caught her attention, and she turned instinctively. There, standing in the dim glow of candlelight, was Regulus Black.
He had changed. He was taller, broader, no longer the sharp-featured boy she had known but a striking young man with an effortless grace that made it clear he had long since grown into his aristocratic features. His dark hair fell in soft waves over his forehead, his grey eyes sharp yet shadowed, as if he carried burdens beyond his years. But when they landed on her, something in them shifted—warmed, softened in recognition.
"Selena," he greeted, his voice smooth and rich, tinged with the familiarity of years spent in each other’s company.
Selena tilted her head, a slow smirk creeping onto her lips as she placed a dramatic hand over her chest, exclaiming in an exaggeratedly snobbish voice, "My dear Regulus, my savior! I've been the victim of a terrible misunderstanding!"
The corner of Regulus’s mouth twitched in amusement, a hint of nostalgia flickering in his expression. He remembered this—her theatrical flair, her knack for turning even the dullest moments into a performance. As children, they had spent countless afternoons playing at being their parents, mimicking their aristocratic airs with ridiculous affectation. Sirius, always the rebel, had never lasted long before dissolving into laughter, but Selena? Selena had been a natural.
"What tragedy has befallen you this time, my dear friend?" he asked, deciding to indulge her, his tone a perfect match to her own.
She let out a long, exaggerated sigh, clasping her book to her chest as if it were a letter of great misfortune. "A plot against me, I fear. You see, I have been condemned to a day of infinite solitude! My only respite shall come after hours of toil at the piano—like a forsaken maiden in a tower, abandoned to her fate."
Regulus raised a skeptical brow. "So you’ll be deprived of the evening’s entertainment?"
"Alas, yes," she confirmed, pouting slightly. "I am to retire with the other children, forgotten and discarded while the grand festivities unfold."
She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Could you, dear Regulus, get in touch with my elder brother so that he may provide me with some means of entertainment despite my cruel isolation?"
Regulus chuckled, shaking his head. "I’ll see what I can do, my lady," he promised, the words carrying more warmth than he intended.
Her smile, bright and utterly unguarded, caught him off guard. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.
Selena Lestrange had grown up.
The girl he had once known—the one who had trailed behind him and Rabastan, stubbornly insisting she could keep up, who had pressed flowers into his hands when he was sulking, who had once had the audacity to tell him she would marry him when they were older—was no longer just a girl. She was a young woman now, her features refined, her laughter still intoxicatingly light. And Merlin, she was beautiful.
Something twisted in his chest, something unfamiliar. It was strange, this realization. A quiet, creeping awareness of her in a way that had never struck him before.
He was still staring when she suddenly turned, eyes widening in alarm at the time displayed on the grand Victorian floor clock behind him.
"Oh, Merlin’s beard—I have to go!" she gasped.
Regulus barely had time to react before she was already making for the door, a whirlwind of dark silk and perfume that lingered in the air after her.
As the door clicked shut behind her, he let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair.
Meeting Selena’s smile had confused him more than he cared to admit.
Traditional pureblood wedding ceremonies were rare events in the magical world. Most other wizards had adopted a mixture of magical and Muggle customs to ensure greater equality between wizards and witches. Today Regulus would not be attending anything modern.
The assembly had gathered in a circular formation, at the centre of which was a magic circle that would welcome the two families. Soft, haunting music announced the start of the procession. Orion Black, as leader of the clan, escorted his niece to the centre of the magic circle where Rodolphus awaited, surrounded by his brother Rabastan and his parents. Two young girls in white slowly followed Regulus' father. As they entered the gallery, time seemed to stand still. The candles lit up simultaneously and the room was plunged into an intimate darkness.
As the couple stood in the centre of the magic circle, as was tradition, Bellatrix knelt down to face her future husband. She promised in the name of her blood to unite her magic with that of Rodolphus to serve him and the honour of their family.
When Regulus' gaze fell on Selena, his heart stopped for a moment. She was even more stunning than when he had met her in the library. Her hair was up in an intricate, messy bun. Small, light wildflowers brought out the intensity of the brown in her hair. Of course, Bellatrix and Narcissa were just as elegant, but their classic, cold beauty could not hold a candle to the warmth and light that emanated from Selena.
Nearing the end of the ceremony, the fabric the young girl was modestly wearing slipped for a moment, revealing a pronounced cleavage. Regulus fought his eyes from widening, he absolutely had to focus his attention…elsewhere! Women were a distraction he had until now avoided!
As he observed, many of the older wizards in the audience had also noticed the striking beauty of the groom's sister.
His new objective of returning the Black family to glory was not to be disturbed. Especially tonight. Tonight’s ceremony would include the most esteemed guest. He was there. Discreet, but his presence exuded power and dark magic.
Regulus had been informed that he would only be staying for the magical union ceremony. A low voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Your new cousin by marriage appears to possess certain… attributes, if I may say, perhaps two in particular that certainly stand out”. Mulciber smiled lecherously.
Evan, who was standing next to Regulus, rolled his eyes but agreed with their perverse friends: “I think we're all going to enjoy discovering a new Slytherin”.
When the ceremony was over, the two newlyweds seemed to radiate power. Rodolphus, however, seemed curiously weakened while the ceremony induced the magical enslavement of the wife. After the customary exchange of congratulations, Rabastan turned to his three comrades.
“Is your sister going to join us?” asked Evan.
“No, that meeting will take place later” replied Rabastan suspiciously. “Selena hasn't been formally introduced to society; she'll be making her debut next summer. And you know, she's still being punished for that article in the Daily Prophet. She will be confined to the piano during dinner and will finish the evening with the children”, he continued, almost reassured to put off the inevitable for a while.
Mulciber breathed impatiently but his gaze met the eyes of Ambrosia Bullstrode and Phylis Selwyn and he hurried to join them.
The two young witches were also going to continue their studies in 5th year at Hogwarts with the Slytherins. Ambrosia Bulltrode was a tiny, luscious redhead. With his growth spurt, Regulus now had to break his neck to hold a conversation with her.
Phylis Selwyn was favoured by most of the boys in the snake house. Her slim figure was at its best tonight in a long, narrow dress the colour of night. She looked at Regulus with ambition, tossing back her long blonde hair.
Since Sirius had fled, Regulus had become a magnet for greedy witches. He gave her a polite smile and then turned to stand off to one side with Rabastan and Evan.
When the cocktail was served, a nod from Rodolphus told Selena that it was time. She walked slowly over to the piano and began to play. The audience seemed pleasantly surprised by the performance of the young girl who had prepared a wide variety of pieces.
Regulus noticed that she was playing modern Muggle songs scattered among the Beethoven and Chopin. He recognised a song by the Beach Boys and Elvis Presley, but he nearly choked on the contents of his glass when, towards the end of the dinner, he heard a piano version of Revolution by the Beatles and I Want to Break Free by Queen.
“ Ma chérie, merci d’avoir joué le jeu ! It was wonderful. I think you've earned some rest. Bella told me you wanted to stay with the younger children for the evening”. Bella told you, is that so? she thought with a smirk. “I think that's the most sensible thing to do,” Rodolphus added, as he escorted his sister towards the gallery, which served as a children's area for the rest of the night.
“Yes, thank you again for offering to play for you,” replied the young girl, tired but happy to have played an active part in her older brother's wedding.
“I've left an enchanted record player in the children's room”, he whispered, “no adult wizard will have the idea of wandering in that direction”, he finished with a wink.
“No one will know if I'm dancing with my young friends then?” she questioned, hugging him happily.
“You should be safe,” he concluded, leaving her with the wizards under the age of 12.
After attending part of the evening, Regulus discreetly slipped away from the increasingly tedious party. He had endured more than his fair share of dull conversations about bloodline purity, international wizarding policies, and Lucius Malfoy’s insufferable monologues about the future of the Ministry. He needed a break. And, more importantly, he needed to see what Selena was up to.
If he was bored, she had to be downright suffering.
As he approached the room that had been designated as the nursery for the evening, he was met with an unexpected—no, utterly absurd—sound.
Black Sabbath’s Paranoid was blaring.
He paused mid-step. Was that—? No. Surely not.
A loud peal of children’s laughter rang out, followed by a high-pitched “Again! Again!”
Regulus raised an eyebrow.
Pushing the door open just a crack, he took in the scene before him.
Selena, in her elegant evening dress, was twirling dramatically across the room, somehow making a classical ballet routine match the sheer chaos of heavy metal. She leaped and spun like a storm given form, her movements graceful yet completely ridiculous given the music choice. She looked like a possessed swan in the middle of a mosh pit.
And the children? They were enthralled.
“Show us again, please!” Miranda Selwyn, Phylis’s little sister, begged, practically bouncing with excitement.
Selena, mid-spin with Bastien Rosier (who, at eleven, was clearly living his best life as he got to hold her hand), let out a breathless laugh. "Very well, my eager disciples. Prepare yourselves to be amazed!”
Regulus folded his arms, biting back a smirk.
Evan Rosier appeared beside him, looking just as bewildered. “Is she—?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s—?”
“Black Sabbath.”
A pause. Then Evan gave a slow nod of appreciation. “Huh.”
They watched in silence as Selena executed a perfect pirouette before launching into a sequence of moves that should have belonged on a grand stage, not in the middle of a chaotic nursery concert. The contrast was ridiculous—and utterly, ridiculously her.
Her face was alight with joy, her body moving effortlessly as though she belonged in the air more than on the ground. It was mesmerizing. And Merlin, Regulus realized, she was beautiful. The kind of beauty that wasn’t just seen but felt—wild and radiant, completely unburdened by expectation.
Then, before either of them could react, Bastien Rosier appeared in front of them, arms crossed, looking every bit the tiny, self-important aristocrat in training.
“Sorry, boys,” he said smugly, reaching for the door handle. “Tonight, she’s all ours.”