Chapter 2
Our story starts on a windy night in a run-down pub. A new local is sitting at a small table, nursing a firewhiskey as he hears snippets of whispered conversation, as he does every Tuesday. The door creaks slightly as it opens to a man in dark blue robes. Nothing about this man would have been unusual for the Hog’s Head… other than that glowing constellations and stars were shining dimly all across his outer robe. Everyone knew who this man was, and the entire pub fell silent. Not every day, you see Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore in the Hog’s Head at nearly eleven thirty. The sun had set hours ago, and there was no reason for all important Mr. Headmaster Of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin - First class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, to step foot in this particular back ally establishment. However, he strode confidently into the pub and asked the barkeep, Aberforth, for a private room upstairs. Once his request was granted, he sat at the bar and stared at the door, seemingly waiting for someone.
Not long after the initial shock of THE Albus Dumbledore in this particular pub died down, people returned to minding their own business, or in our new local’s case, eavesdropping on the underhand deal happening two tables down from him, did the door open. Once more, drawing everyone’s unabashed attention. In walked somebody that few knew; however, our new local’s job was to know everyone and anything happening in this particular pub. Did he know why he was spying on the barkeep and the patrons? No, but he wasn’t ordered to ask questions. He was ordered to understand what was going on and who was involved. Sybill Patricia Trelawney glanced around at all the eyes on her, shifting nervously. Her gaze landed on Albus, and she sighed in relief. Quickly walking to his side and opening her mouth to greet him, he stood, shook his head, and gestured to follow him. As they ascended the stairs, our new local sat at his table. After what seemed like forever, he quietly got up and went up the stairs opposite where the previous two had ascended. Going the back way to figure out which room the two were settled in.
Our new local found his targets behind the third door, where they ascended the stairs. He silently disillusioned himself before propping his head against the door and casting one final spell that allowed him to head much better than a normal Wix would have. It wasn’t foolproof, but it typically got the job done when he needed a little extra leg up. Surprising our new local, nobody had put up any silent wards before beginning whatever they were doing.
“...Yes, Sybill. Hogwarts would be thrilled to have you take up the divination post this coming school year. Of course, I had heard you have a … unique family history on your father’s side?”
“ Oh yes, yes, Headmaster. Following my father's line, my gift has been a family magic for three generations. It started with my great-great-grandmother, Cassandra. We still have one of her portraits from her prime time in my ancestral home!”
“ Fascinating, and you have this… gift, Yes? The Inner Eye, I believe she called it?”
“ Yes, I am genuinely grateful for being born into such prestige, and of course, I’d love to share all my knowledge with the students within Hogwart’s great walls.” Sybill was very proud of her ancestry and wanted to promote others with the gift to bring out its fullest potential. Sybill knows how helpful it’s been in her own life, much less the lives of the people she predicts things about.
Our new local was slowly getting tired of this back-and-forth. Who organizes a job interview in a dump like the Hog’s Head when there’s a magnificent castle no more than a ten or fifteen-minute walk from here? Or at close to midnight for the Divination position? Astronomy, I can understand the late night, but Divination? As he was settling up to leave, Sybill’s voice went scratchy, and many voices echoed in the air…all saying identical words.
” The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will-” Her voice was cut off as he was startled away from the door, now sitting in silence he realized it was just Aberforth walking up the stairs with a tray of butterbeers behind him…SHOOT! He quickly stood up and, while still disillusioned, came side by side with the barkeep.
“ You better get out of here, Snape; you don't know what could happen if a… certain somebody found out you're a spy.”
His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but Severus heard it loud and clear. Get out of here, now, or else Albus will know. Instead of replying, he slipped away and back into the bustling of the pub’s main floor. He kept his spell on and paid for his two Firewhiskies of the night. Leaving and abruptly disapparating to Spinner’s End.
Quickly changing his garb to more appropriate attire and attaching the metal mask separating himself and the inner circle from the outer circle and the lackeys before again disapparating to the Lestrange Manor. To where the Dark Lord had set up his base of operations.
Ending up near the front gate, just as it opened to let him in, he saw the lady of the house, Mrs. Bellatrix Lestrange Nee Black. She had gotten married to the Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Lestrange. It was odd to see her where she was; she looked like she was gardening. It was the most domestic Severus had ever seen her be. Usually, the ‘Black Family Madness’ ran too deep in her magic, blood, and mind to be anything else other than an obsessed wife, follower, and practitioner. To see her seem so calm, collected, and quiet was almost more terrifying than when she was her manic, crazy self. Severus did not want to go over there and risk her wrath…however, he also knew she would know where their Dark Lord was, and Severus didn’t want to waste any more time than he had already. Quickly striding up to her, as she was knelt in the earth, with her hands in the dirt, he finally saw what she was doing in the garden of roses. She was burying something… something small and pale. Something with small dark curls that were flashed with violent red. Blood, he later realized while staring. Was she burying a…baby?
“ Bella…what are you doing?” His voice showed the horror, even though his occlumency walls had been firmly in place since stepping onto the property.
“ A girl can’t become the Heir, and no child should be older than the Heir. I had another miscarriage.” It was all she had to say before he understood what had happened. Rodolphus Lestrange had killed their child after she had been born. Their daughter was a part of the world for all of thirty minutes before that life was snuffed out. Bellatrix was mourning, and he also knew without a doubt that any late ‘miscarriages’ the couple had suffered probably ended much like this one.
“ how many times have you… miscarried since getting married, Bells?” He knew it was an insensitive question, and she could fly off the handle at any moment, but he needed to know what the depth of her pain had been at the hands of her husband. Children were celebrated as gifts from lady magic regardless of whether they were dark or light. The thought that this had happened more than once…. Or once was a travesty and abuse of Lady Magic’s gifts. Abuse cases were rare in the wixen world. Most stemmed from their muggle half, or muggle-born parentage, rather than the wixen parents. It was one of the founding principles of the dark agenda that all wixen children should be removed from their muggle counterparts and parentage and placed in a wixen home. This was one of the few things the blood purists agreed on. Magic was a gift and should be celebrated, even if it did come as ‘dirty’ blood.
“ Three times prior, she’s my fifth child… I named them all because they were still witches for a short time. All wixen deserve names. The Black family tapestry records all named descendants, even if they're alive for one minute or two hundred years. Would you like to know their names?”
“I’d love to Bella.”
“ My first daughter was named Alphara, after the Alpharatz star in the Andr…a constellation… because she came out with bright, vibrant, fiery hair. She was metamorphous, and I had thought for a brief moment that I would be able to hold her and love her until my last breath…but then she was gone just like Androm-…, anyway I was tasked with getting rid of her. So I buried her beneath my favourite roses.
“ My second daughter, Geminis. It’s the constellation with the Star Narcissus—the one my beloved baby sister was named after. This time, I had no illusions about loving her. I heard she was a girl, and I said goodbye. She is buried just over there,” she pointed to an older rose bush, maybe 6 feet away,” and that’s where she spends her eternal rest.”
“ My third and fourth children are buried side by side. They were fraternal twins, but my only son was born with a cord wrapped around his neck, so he didn’t get enough oxygen, and he died shortly after entering this world, that time of natural causes, Perseus and Cassiopeia. Perseus was always my favourite Greek hero, and Casitopia was my favourite aunt. My favorites of my life…
“ and now her…I don’t know what to name her. She is supposed to be special…but it feels like with every child I lose, a deeper, more sadistic part of me grows, and I’d like that to stop… Will you help me name her Severus?” Her voice was now barely audible over her tears.
He nodded, and they sat there waiting, thinking for a while before Sev looked up and made eye contact, stating, “ Altarph is a bastardized version of an Arabic word, meaning ‘the end’ it's part of the Cancer constellation.”
“It’s perfect.”
After that, the meeting with the dark lord was excruciating because he knew Severus was on the property and didn’t immediately come to his lord's side. However, the revelation of a partial prophecy saved him from death and demotion. Severus went home knowing two things that night. One, Bellatrix Lestrange Nee Black will never bury any more children; his infertility potion would ensure that. And two, he had just condemned another two mothers to the same fate as his friend. At the very least, they would bury their babies. At the most, they were to be buried alongside the boys.