December 31, 2000
It’s been said that the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, the most prominent and prestigious family in Wizarding London, is notorious for toeing the line between sanity and madness. For years, the impenetrable force that was the Family Black had presented themselves as regal, exquisite, and unattainable. They were the family you looked up to, exalted, and yearned to learn what just a taste could be like. Cream of the Crop, the Black’s were called. Wizarding Royalty and everyone wanted a taste of the sweetness, a glutton of their own making. The few that had been lucky enough to be deemed worthy of a glimpse into the mystery-shrouded lives of the aristocracy… well, they always came back with their own tales.
Over the years, stories had slithered through society, secrets that fed the gossip for generations. Phineus Nigellus Black may be remembered as one of the infamous Headmasters of Hogwarts, but if you dug a little deeper, you would learn the man loved to dabble in potions, ones that left him euphoric; one could even say the potions would have him panting after whoever his latest conquest was. The existence of a love potion became known to wizardkind years later, of course.
Then there was Cassieopea Black, sister of Pollux and Dorea Potter nee Black. The formidable witch never married, content with her research and travels. If one were to stumble upon her, though, you might find that her bed was never cold. At least two or three bodies were always ready and wanting, keeping the sheets warm for their mistress. Not quite the scandal, but perhaps that is because it was a cover for the underground railroad of sorts she ran during the war with Grindelwald, helping Muggles and Muggleborns alike escape their fate.
Bellatrix Black was another scandal of sorts. The eldest daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black, her betrothal to Rodoluphus Lestrange was the discussion of Wizarding London. The infusion of the Lestrange Family with the House of Black was a boon to society. They were set to wed when the witch graduated from Hogwarts, yet a wedding never happened. It wasn’t long after her graduation that Rodoluphus turned up dead, his cause of demise still unknown. There were whispers of a cloaked witch that curls as black as night meeting with a wizard in Knockturn Alley, exchanging a bag of gold for a potion. Those were just rumours, though.
For years, stories of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had died slowly, only faint embers floating around as the newest generation of blacks came to be. Nymphadora Tonks, daughter of Ted Tonks and Andromeda Tonks nee Black, was rising quickly through the auror ranks along with her second cousin, Harry Black, son of Sirius Black and Lily Evans Black. Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, had staked his claim as one of the youngest barristers in Wizarding history. And then there was Hermione Astra, Baby Black, as she had been lovingly nicknamed by her family, magic’s gift to Regulus Black and James Potter. Andromeda Tonks had volunteered to act as a surrogate for the partners, giving the lovers the brightest star in the night sky. A healer and contracted Unspeakable, the witch was adored and revered by all.
Little did her family know, she was about to turn their entire world upside down when, for the first time, the Heiress of the Noble House of Potter would be bringing the wizard courting her to the annual Black Family New Year's Eve Dinner.
Champagne-coloured acromantula silk flowed down her body like the drink itself, accentuating her curves in all the right ways, complimenting her skin and hazel eyes. Dark, untamed curls tumbled down her back, held back with emerald-encrusted combs, only a few tendrils framing her face. As calloused hands fastened the emerald necklace around her neck, fingers skimming her clavicle with a featherlike touch, blood-red lips curled into a faint smirk, her body plaint under his touch.
“You realise your fathers will have me drawn and quartered in the middle of Diagon Alley if we walk into dinner with you sated as if I just had you tied down to the bed, Kiska,” Antonin spoke, the words vibrating against her pulse point as his lips grazed her skin, playfully nipping at the spot he knew would make her toes curl.
“But you did just have me tied to our bed,” Hermione giggled, her golden nails resting against the arm banded just underneath her chest, her breasts brushing against the appendage with every intake of breath. “With your head between my thighs and your tongue writing your name against my-”
“Another word Milaya and I’ll rip this pretty dress from this exquisite body and fuck you against the door frame,” Antonin growled, as his had wrapped around her delicate throat, squeezing slightly in a warning. “We’ll be late to dinner, and you’ll have to explain to the wolf why he can smell my cum dripping down your thighs.”
“Promises, promises,” Hermione breathed, her eyes fluttering shut.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Kiska? For me to fill you so full that even my spell to keep it all inside you couldn’t stop the river escaping from staining your skin for the world to see,” Antonin spoke huskily as one hand squeezed her throat again, the other tweaking a nipple through the thin fabric of her dress, eliciting a moan from the witch as her knees buckled. “Merlin, you’ll be the death of me, witch.”
“Antonin… please…”
“Be a good girl tonight, and I’ll give you what you need when we come home,” his voice whispered, nipping her ear before releasing her completely. “You look stunning, ethereal milaya.”
Allowing herself a moment to catch her breath, she opened her hazel eyes and looked at the wizard behind her. He was dressed in an all-black tuxedo with a gold constellation pin adorning the lapel. She had to admit to herself that they made a formidable, picturesque pair.
“Thank you, love,” Hermione smiled playfully, taking his proffered hand.
Descending the stairs, Hermione and Antonin Dolohov made their way to the floo, stepping in together. Before throwing the powder, hazel eyes turned to look at her lover.
“What is it?
“Does Professor-”
“You don’t have to call him that anymore,” Antonin chuckled, twisting one of his curls around her finger.
“Does he know where to go?” Hermione asked, the powder sifting through her fingers.
“Of course.”
“Perfect,” she nodded, throwing the powder. “Black Manor.”
When the green flames died, the couple stepped out into the opulent receiving room of the infamous Black Manor. Siphoning the ash from them, Anotinon stowed his wand and held his arm out, smirking when Hermione gracefully clasped her delicate fingers around the appendage. Following the sounds of conversation, Hermione made her way down the hall, smiling at the curious portraits.
Upon entering the drawing rooms, a chorus of cheers began to sound at her arrival but quickly died to curiosity as they eyed the man her arm was entangled with.
“Hello, everyone,” Hermione smiled demurely. “Happy New Year.”
“Hello darling,” Bellatrix smirked, walking up to the pair and kissing her niece’s cheeks. “What a devious little surprise this is. Well done, darling.”
“Thank you, Auntie Bella,” Hermione smiled at her as Wahlburga Black stepped up beside them. “Grandmother, may I introduce you to Antonin Dolohov?”
“We’ve met darling,” Wahlburga spoke, kissing her granddaughter's cheek before narrowing her eyes and looking at the man who was quite a few years older than her granddaughter. “Mr. Dolohov, you were in Lucius’s year at Hogwarts, were you not?”
“I attended Durmstrang, actually, Lady Black,” Antonin answered, not cowering under the intense scrutiny the witch was eying him with. “If I recall, though, I was the same year as your eldest son.”
“Yes, of course,” Wahlburga nodded, sipping her champagne.
“Baby Black!” Tonks exclaimed, bounding over with her husband, Remus Lupin. Hermione pinched Antonin at his barely covered chuckle.
“Tonks,” Hermione chuckled, hugging her tightly before smiling at Remus. “Brother o’ mine.”
“I really wish you’d stop calling me that,” Remus sighed before gathering the young witch in his arms and hugging her.
“How could I possibly?” she laughed. “It’s so fun that someone else has a nickname.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing anyone?” Tonks smirked, looking Dolohov up and down. “Especially when it was going to be this wizard.”
“Probably because he’s old enough to be her father,” Draco smirked as he approached the pair with Harry and Ronald Weasley, who seemed to once again make an appearance at their annual dinner. He seemed to switch off and on every year, with his family for one, and then theirs the next. “Hello, baby Black.”
“Now, now, Draco,” Hermione spoke sweetly as Wahlburga walked away, a faithful eye turning back toward them all now and then. “We don’t want to go down that road, do we? Not when I’m aware of who has been gracing your bed for the past year.”
“Turn about is fair play you know,” Draco chuckled, handing her a champagne.
“So you’re the one who has been keeping my cousin so busy she hasn’t had any time to spend with the rest of us,” Harry smirked, looking Dolohov up and down. “Should have known it was you. She always had an unhealthy obsession with wizards and witches that would cause a rise from her fathers.”
“I don’t know what you are referring to,” the small witch spoke, her nose upturning haughtily before turning to Dolohov. “Let’s make our rounds. We should be sitting for dinner soon.”
“Of course, Milaya,” Antonin smirked. “Lead the way.”
Half an hour later, the entire family and guests had taken their seats at the dinner table when the chime of the floo going off sounded again. The occupants of the room looked at one another again before turning to the youngest lords and ladies.
“Harry, Draco,” Dorea Potter chuckled before delicately sipping her from her glass of elf wine. “Is there someone you invited tonight that you perhaps forgot to tell us about, hmm?”
“No, Aunt Dorea,” Harry snorted, running his fingers through his raven hair, his emerald eyes glimmering with amusement. “I figured the latest witch to attempt to become the next Lady Black would probably not be welcome.”
“Harry,” Lily sighed, shaking her head in exasperation.
“Forgive me, grandmum, I believe that might be my other guest,” Hermione stated, smiling sweetly, knowing full well that no one would be angry at her. She was the favourite, after all. “You see Professor… Tom Riddle is friendly with Antonin, and seeing as he had nowhere else to spend tonight, other than perhaps the students at Hogwarts, I thought it might be a comfort to Antonin to invite him tonight.”
“Of course, dear,” Dorea smirked, pride oozing out for her granddaughter as James groaned and Bellatrix choked on her wine.
“Pardon?” Bella hissed.
“Perhaps he can sit by Auntie Bella?” Hermione offered gratefully. “He was your favourite Professor, wasn’t he?”
“You evil little witch,” her aunt snapped. “You’re supposed to be my favourite.”
“I’m still your favourite,” Hermione giggled. “One mustn’t tell lies.”
“My apologies for the late arrival,” Tom Riddle drawled as he walked into the room, his midnight dress robes billowing around him with an heir of authority that, if Hermione was honest, made him quite dashing.
No wonder her Aunt was harbouring a secret crush on the wizard.
“I was unfortunately held up by a few Gryffindors who thought it prudent to attempt to find and subsequently enter the Chamber of Secrets,” Tom continued, a charming smile working its magic on the room's occupants. “Of course, it was a futile mistake, and they needed medical attention.”
“Still punishing Gryffindors, I see,” Sirius smirked from beside his wife. “How many detentions did you try to saddle me with?”
“I believe the better question, Black, is how many you attended,” Tom smirked. “Ah, Bellatrix, how lovely to see you. You look simply ravishing. This seat must be for me.”
“You’re dead to me,” Bellatrix muttered to the smirking brunette, a fierce glare at Hermione before motioning with a sigh for the wizard to take a seat.
The first course was served, and conversations around the table ensued. Discussions of the newest legislation from the Wizengamot could be heard while bets about Quidditch standings or witches to bed were murmured between the single men. Narcissa cuffed the back of her son’s head as she heard a whispered conversation between Ron and himself about the pros and cons of dating a Veela.
“Hermione, how did you and Antonin meet?” Charlus asked as the second course was served.
“Yes, my star,” Regulus stated, looking between his daughter and her date. “I think I would like to hear that answer as well.”
“Well,” Hermione smiled, looking up at Antonin, who dared to wink at her. “We had a run-in while I was out on assignment for the Ministry. He was kind enough to help me out when I found myself in a bit of a predicament.”
Her family didn’t need to know that Hermione had been on a date that had taken her to a wizarding sex club. The wizard had slipped her a potion that lowered her inhibitions and forced the feelings of lust onto the witch to force her to have sexual relations with someone or suffer incredible pain, fear, and self-doubt for the next twenty-four hours. Antonin had been at the club, watching with curiosity. When he saw the man force the staggering witch into a closed-off room, he tore down the doors and saved her. He might have also snapped the man’s neck, but semantics.
“Oh, how charming,” Narcissa smiled. “A darling start to any love story.”
Hermione giggled, unable to not think about how Antonin had thrown her over his shoulder and apparated her to his home where he had taken her on every surface possible. As his large hand discreetly grabbed her thigh, his calloused fingers slipping under the silk where the slit of her dress parted, she knew he was thinking of it too.
“My hero,” the young witch smiled, looking up at the man.
“I didn’t realise you were still taking field assignments,” James frowned, looking back and forth between them. “I owe you a debt then for saving our precious girl.”
“Nonsense,” Antonin shook his head. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
“It’s a riveting tale, I assure you,” Tom chuckled. “Antonin was gracious enough to give me every detail. Quite besotted with the witch, he is.”
“As he should be,” Wahlburga beamed proudly. “Our Hermione is quite the catch.”
“Whatever happened to that one guy I set you up with, ‘Mione?” Ron asked, causing Antonin and Hermione to turn and look at him slowly. “Honestly, I hadn’t seen you since then. I figured that’s who you were holed up with.”
“Unfortunately, we were never quite able to have that date,” Hermione spoke, delicately cutting into her meat. “I heard he had a bit of an accident and still hasn’t quite recovered.”
Smirking, Antonin discreetly slid his hand up her inner thigh, chuckling under his breath as her legs involuntarily parted for him.
“Tom, how are you liking teaching at Hogwarts?” Orion asked, taking the attention off the couple and onto another possible one. “I’m surprised you are still there. How long has it been now? I thought you’d have grown quite bored.”
“Well, the students grow increasingly brainless by the year,” Tom sighed before placing a hand on Bellatrix’s next to him. “Most days, I tell them they would be better suited going back to their third-year class where their professor was much more patient, lenient.”
“My third-year students are very knowledgeable, Riddle,” Remus defended. “Dumbledore said that students are leaving with a much more refined education after learning from both of us.”
“Exactly. I do not have the patience to deal with the Neanderthals. I leave that to you. A fair few over the years have talent that has caught my eye, but sadly, not all of them can be like your dear Bellatrix, Cygnus. She always was my best student.”
“Oh, I bet she was,” Andromeda snorted, causing Bellatrix to hiss and Narcissa to laugh delicately. “I remember quite well all of the stories she used to tell us about Professor Riddle.”
“My sister is insane,” Bellatrix snapped. “She married a Hufflepuff; what do you expect?”
“The hat thought about putting me in Hufflepuff,” Hermione remarked, causing the entire table to laugh loudly.
“Merlin, that would have been something,” Harry chuckled. “You were scary enough in Gryffindor.”
“I remember that moment,” Tom commented. “If I also remember correctly, the only other time the hat stalled that long was when Minerva had the hat placed on her head.”
“I’m not surprised Mother Minnie was a hat stall,” Sirius chuckled, fondly remembering his favourite professor. She was part of the reason he wound up marrying Lily Evans. The wizard was pretty sure the professors had a bet on which Marauder would end up with the muggleborn redhead. Minnie had made it easier for Sirius with all the detentions she stuck them in together.
“She would put you in detention for life if she heard you still calling her that,” Remus couldn’t help but snicker.
“Ah, well, thankfully, I don’t still go to Hogwarts,” Sirius smirked.
“Yes, by some miracle, you graduated,” Regulus taunted him playfully.
“Boys,” Wahlburga sighed, narrowing her gaze at both sons. “If your children can behave far better than you can, perhaps it is time to grow up. Yes? I certainly don’t think your spouses find your behaviour entertaining.”
“I actually find it quite enjoyable,” James beamed cheekily, planting a sloppy kiss on his husband’s cheek. Regulus blushed, rolling his eyes.
“James darling, please try to act civilised,” Dorea requested before turning her attention back to the couple across the table. “Antonin, what do you do for work?”
“I work for the Department of Mysteries, actually,” he answered, squeezing her thigh lightly as his fingers lazily traced circles on her bare skin, inching their way closer to his end goal. “I was recruited after I graduated from Durmstrang.”
“The two of you must see each other from time to time then,” Alphard Black commented from his seat near his sister, amusement dancing across his face. “Our darling Hermione works part-time with the Department.”
“Always the favourite,” Sirius smirked. “The tiny but mighty star of House Black.”
“We see each other occasionally,” Antonin chuckled, gazing at his blushing witch. He could feel her magic pulsing around her as her body yearned for something he would extensively gift her later. For now, she would just have to be patient.
“Another office romance?” Draco chuckled, seizing the perfect opening. Everyone thought of Hermione as this innocent, perfect witch. If they only knew the things she had been up to, perhaps they would all be on the same playing field. “Tell me, didn’t you also have a small fling with William Weasley while he worked at the Ministry as a cursebreaker? Or was it the dragon-tamer Weasley, Charlie? I can never remember which one it was… or was it both Harry?”
“It was Bill first and then Charlie,” Harry chuckled. “I still hold on to the fact that the dragons made Charlie irresistible to her.”
There was a beat of silence as Hermione’s amber eyes locked with Draco’s stormy grey ones. With one arch of her brow, Draco knew exactly what was about to happen as Hermione opened her mouth to speak.
“Draco’s been sleeping with Theodore Nott for over a year,” Hermione smirked, her hazel eyes blazing with victory. Her outburst was so unexpected, so outlandish for the young witch, that no one knew what to do for a moment.
“Traitor!” Draco snapped as the room finally gasped in surprise at the information that had just been announced. “Such a tattletale.”
“And to be clear, Professor Riddle,” Hermione spoke sweetly. “Harry set your robes on fire in our second year.”
“Hermione!” Harry gasped.
“Harry,” Ron looked at him wide-eyed. “Neville got detention for a whole week.”
“Hermione’s the one that rearranged all the books in the family library and blamed it on poor Bunny,” Harry stated, causing Hermione to gasp and Sirius to cackle loudly.
“Harry was sleeping with Daphne Greengrass for an entire year, and then when she dumped him because he wouldn’t commit, he slept with her sister Astoria!”
“Harry James Black!” Lily shouted as Sirius grabbed her around the waist to keep her from launching herself at their son.
“See, aren’t you glad we never had any more children? Hermione is perfect. We could have ended up with a kid like that,” James snickered as he whispered in his husband’s ear. Unbeknownst to them, Draco heard their whispered conversation perfectly.
“Hermione had fantasies about her Uncle Moony before he started dating Tonks,” Draco smirked while Hermione’s jaw dropped, and her fathers and Sirius stood up, immediately protesting the new information. “I guess she’s always had a thing for older men.”
“I can’t blame her,” Tonks smirked. “He is very dreamy.”
“It’s very House of Black,” Bellatrix cackled.
“Well, Draco stole Uncle Sirius’ vintage scotch and convinced him that he had drunk the entire bottle during their poker night,” she shot back.
“Hey!” Sirius shouted. “I knew I didn’t drink that fucking bottle. That was worth a lot, you know.”
“At least he didn’t keep Rita Skeeter in a jar,” Harry chuckled.
“Oh please, she deserved that, and you know it!”
“Merlin, I love coming here for this dinner,” Ron chuckled.
“Can we all try and remain civilised, please?” Orion sighed, gesturing to the room at large.
“I can’t believe you invited Riddle to dinner,” Bella hissed.
“Oh please, everyone knows you fancy him,” Andromeda chuckled as she joined the fray. “Hermione was just smart enough to use that tidbit of knowledge to her advantage.”
“She would have made a fantastic Hufflepuff,” Ted pointed out, raising his glass with a wink.
“Speaking of Hufflepuff! Hermione lost her virginity to Cedric Diggory in the Hogwarts Greenhouses!” Harry smirked, crossing his arms across his chest, proud of himself for that piece of knowledge that not even Draco was aware of. He, of course, would never tell either of them how he obtained that piece of information.
“Very naughty,” Antonin whispered into her ear.
“Oh baby Black, you are my favourite,” Bellatrix cackled, causing Tom to smile.
“I’m not even the baby!” Hermione sighed in exasperation. “Both Draco and Harry are technically younger than me.”
“But you’re tiny,” Draco smirked. “Ere go, Baby Black.”
“Oh fuck off,” Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. “Well, since we are just blurting out everything tonight. Antonin and I are living together.”
“Hermione…” Regulus began, eyes wide as he looked at his husband and then their daughter.
“And we are getting married,” she stated. “Regardless of our age difference, thank you.”
“I… what… what is happening?” James choked out, his hazel eyes wide.
“Now, do you see why we should never host this dinner at our manor?” Narcissa spoke softly to Lucius. “I, for one, do not want to deal with this family drama in our home.”
“Do you think she is marrying Dolohov?” Lucius murmured back, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “James looks like his brain is about to explode, and Regulus picked up that knife as if he is about to commit murder.”
“Of course she is,” Narcissa scoffed, smirking with pride. “I helped pick out the ring.”
Dinner erupted into complete chaos as the house elves watched on in concern and irritation, unable to serve the dessert course. Lily was lecturing Harry while Sirius tried to calm her down. Draco was arguing with Andromeda and Bellatrix about the sanctity of keeping family secrets at dinner, even though it was Hermione who started it. Remus looked as if he wanted to melt into the floor while Tonks reassured him that it was completely natural that her little cousin/half-sister had fantasies about him. Regulus was practically leaping across the table to confront the wizard who had betrothed himself to his daughter without the common decency of asking permission first.
“Another successful dinner, darling,” Wahlburga sighed, turning away from the madness to look at her husband. “I wonder what fun will ensue next year.”
December 31, 2001
The entire Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and their spouses had taken their seats at the dinner table, waiting patiently for the few stragglers that had yet to show their faces. Antonin had his hand resting on the tiny bump his wife had recently begun to show when the chime of the floo going off sounded. The occupants of the room looked at one another before turning to the youngest lords and ladies.
“Don’t look at me,” Draco snorted from his place beside Theodore, whom he was officially courting, even if the two had a line of women in and out of their beds. “I showed up on time.”
“I didn’t invite anyone,” Hermione spoke. “I’m afraid I’ve been too preoccupied to be social as of late.”
“She hardly leaves their bedroom,” Draco murmured, eliciting a hiss from his mother.
“Men,” Tonks sighed with a shake of her head as she bounced baby Teddy in her arms.
“We apologise for our tardiness,” Tom smirked as he walked in with Bella on his arm. The pair looked dishevelled and yet extremely sated. Hermione couldn’t help the giggle that fell from her lips, knowing precisely what they had gotten into. “There was an issue with the floo in my quarters, and we had to go down to Hogsmeade and use the floo at the Three Broomsticks.”
“Of course, dear,” Druella spoke, her lips pursed as she took a drink from her glass of wine, wishing it was perhaps something a tad stronger.
“Did you happen to see my son during your journey here?” Lily sighed, rubbing her temples.
“Sorry! Sorry,” Harry spoke, his voice breathless as he tumbled into the room. “We lost track of time and-”
“We?” Dorea asked, a brow raising.
“Right, one second,” Harry smiled, running from the room only to return a few moments later with Pansy Parkinson and Neville Longbottom. Hermione’s hazel eyes widened, and Draco and Theo burst out in uncontrollable laughter. “Everyone, Lord Longbottom and Lady Parkinson. We’re courting!”
“Not again,” Sirius groaned, dropping his head into his hands as James snorted, looking over at his husband.
“At least it’s not our child this time.”