November 1889
Phineas Nigellus Black was sitting in his high wooden and ornated chair at the faculty table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts gulping down the rest of his tea while trying to keep the noises of chatting students and the clattering of dishes out of his mind. It was breakfast time and almost every student and professor was present. Therefore, the noise level was very high. Phineas dreaded these gatherings. Most of the time, he managed to hide away at lunchtime to have his meal in the security of his office pretending to be too busy to come down all the way from his tower to the Great Hall and quite often he would attend a formal banquet somewhere, mostly with ministry officials or for special occasions, with his acquaintances of the other pure blood families. He enjoyed the latter most, given the opportunity to show off the influence and wealth of his family. His chest started to swell with pride but someone clearing his throat took him out of his strain of thoughts.
Matilda Weasley, his deputy headmistress, looked at him from his right side where she was seated, a questioning look on her face and an eyebrow cocked. It was obvious that she had tried to bother him with something but he had been so occupied keeping all the noise out of his head to prevent a major headache at already 8 in the morning, he simply couldn´t recall her words. Annoyed, more by Weasley´s attempt (could the woman leave him alone for once?) than his own inattention, he snapped, „What was that, Professor Weasley?”
Matilda gave him an almost scolding look before sighing. “I was saying, Headmaster, that you might remember our regular meeting with the the heads of the houses today. There is a lot we have to discuss. Your presence is obligate although I have found it wise to prepare a little list of all the important matters to guide us through the meeting,” she said.
Phineas scowled. In fact, he did forget about that bloody meeting and had intended to spend a calm morning eventually answering some correspondence letters stacked on his desk only to then indulge in a very well deserved nap after lunch time. He hadn´t slept well last night but couldn´t put a finger on the reason for it. Unfortunately, he had to be fit all day for there was a dinner with the school board scheduled in the evening and that was something he was not looking forward to. All those self-important pricks would ask questions about the education in Hogwarts and would try to make decisions over his head. Some of them even had the audacity to make suggestions for changes. Pah! He was headmaster after all! He cursed inwardly. Instead admitting his mistake to his colleague, he put on his usual condescending attitude and simply responded, “Ah, the meeting, yes, how could I have possibly forgotten about such an important matter? 4 pm, right? Splendid, I will attend after I took care of my numerous other tasks you know very well about. In fact, I better start now. Busy day ahead and places to be, I´m afraid. Good day, Professor Weasley.”
He rose from his chair to quickly escape Weasley´s clutches but to his surprise, she stood as well. Her movement felt almost insubordinate to him, even if she was a good amount shorter than him. “I´m afraid your other duties will have to be rescheduled, Sir, because, as you have surely remembered correctly, the meeting is about to begin in 10 minutes for not to cause any disruptions for the classes. “ Phineas stern facade crumbled for a slight moment before he awkwardly cleared his throat. ”Ah, ehem, yes, of course, ehem, well…. Why are we standing around then?” he sneered.
In the meantime the Great Hall was emptying and he noticed all the other professors leaving as well, probably for some last preparations of their classes. He noticed Professor Ronen waving at Matilda and then following Professors Garlick and Hecat through the portal. He assumed they were heading to the faculty room, because that was the place these ghastly meetings usually took place in, he could certainly remember that! “Of course, Professor Black!” Weasley nodded and hurried to follow him as he strode through the Great Hall to the exit.
It was even worse than Phineas had expected. The four heads of houses were so excited for the new term and were bubbling with motivation to be finally able to share their knowledge of magic with all the brats that were the students. “Oh, I got a new book called Games for the Classroom! Isn´t this amazing? I can borrow it to any of you, if you like,” beamed Professor Ronen, head of Slytherin house. Phineas found the cheerful man to be a disgrace for his own former house. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes when Professor Garlick, Hufflepuff of course, asked for the other teachers permission if she could put flowers in all of the common rooms, especially in the dungeons. Endless minutes of talking about rational changes in the curriculum, difficult students in each house (Garreth Weasley was top tier, much to Matilda’s dismay) and the idea of extracurricular activities to “strengthen the bond between all students“ as Matilda put it, passed by with Phineas barely engaging himself in any subject and just occasionally throwing in a nod or a “I might take that into consideration!“. The next topic would be Quidditch, for that he was sure. At least, Madame Kogawa wasn´t present. He despised the woman´s excitement for the bloody sport. If he could only find a good reason to put an end to this spectacle now and forever! But Matilda couldn´t address this dreadful topic because suddenly, there was a loud “PLOP“.
Everybody turned towards the source of the disturbance only to find the headmaster´s personal house elf, Scrope, standing in the middle of the room. The creature was clearly feeling uncomfortable under all the questioning looks and foremost, for having interrupted an obviously important meeting. Therefore, he was wriggling his hands in his shirt nervously looking for his master. Phineas couldn´t decide whether to be happy about this interruption or ill-tempered because of the audacity of the elf to show up unsummoned. He rolled his eyes before slowly and condescendingly turning around in his chair at the head of the table to address his servant. “I do hope there is a good reason for you to interrupt this very meeting, Scrope. Otherwise I might consider giving you a matching pair of ears. What is it, now?“ he barked. The elf nodded eagerly. “Scrope begs forgiveness, Master. Scrope will punish himself later as Master commands. But Scrope has to deliver an important message in private to the master.” Scrope looked around in the curious faces of the other staff members. Phineas growled before rising and signalled the elf to follow him out of the room. “Please continue, it won´t be a minute,“ he called behind him waving his hand dismissively.
Outside the faculty room, Scrope was unusual quick to deliver his message and didn´t give Phineas time to yell at him. “While Scrope was cleaning the master´s office, Scrope accepted an owl for the master in his absence. Of course, Scrope didn´t open it, but it says it is urgent.” He handed him the envelope. Phineas was about to lecture the elf, after all, almost all letters he received called themselves “urgent“, but he was taken aback when he recognised the cursive handwriting of his sister, Elladora Black. That wasn´t a good sign. Why would she bother him? He hadn´t seen her in months. And at this time of the day? Unless… He quickly opened the letter. It was short.
Brother,
I ask you on behalf of my sister-in-law to return home as fast as possible. Your wife is about to give birth. As head of the family and of course, father to the yet unborn newest member, your presence is demanded here. In the meantime, I will be gracious and take care of everything.
Elladora
Of course. This day was meant to be cursed. Not only did he have his day scheduled with horrible tasks and had had a bad night but now his dear wife had decided to go into labour nearly a month earlier than expected. He must have said the last part of the sentence aloud because Scrope looked at him with a puzzled face. “If it is about Mistress Ursula, then Scrope doesn´t know much about those things.” Phineas didn´t pay attention to the cheeky elf opening his mouth unasked, but tried to order his thoughts instead.
The fact that his wife had gone into labour so early was worrisome indeed, he couldn´t remember that from the birth of his other four children. But what got him the most was that his younger sister was apparently with Ursula now. That meant she was in his house, no, reigning over his house. He certainly didn´t like her to “take care of things“, especially not in his absence. Ursula must had called upon her out of need since she was alone with Phineas II, Arcturus, Belvina and the house elves and that was no good company for giving birth. Maybe something was wrong and she could not have called the healer herself. At that point, Phineas was worried about his wife. Although love was never a word in their arranged marriage, they shared a mutual respect and a certain level of fondness. After all, she had proven herself the perfect pureblood wife over the years, pleasant on the eye, valuing his family beliefs and had given him children, three of them sons and therefore possible heirs. Even if she was irritating sometimes and way too soft with the children in his eyes, he certainly didn´t wish her any harm. He could only pray that his sister was so mindful to get a healer before ordering everybody around, visit his private study, “borrow“ some of the cursed family heirlooms or behead one of the house elves for looking in the wrong direction.
He dreaded going home, though, because he already had to0 live through this nightmare four times when his other children had been born and, though he wouldn´t admit it, he hated seeing dear Ursula in a state all the while being helpless himself and not in charge of things. He was used to be always in charge. Also hearing his wife scream in agony and having to look after his noisy children in the meantime would give him the worst of migraines. But much to his dismay, his sister was right. He WAS the head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, it was his child that was about to be born and his wife who he had impregnated, so he certainly was most responsible for the whole situation. And despite the opinion of others, he did care about his family. So there was no other option than to go home immediately.“Scrope!“ he ordered. “Go and prepare everything for an early departure. Only necessaries. We will head home in 15 minutes!“ The elf disapparated to gather the things in the headmaster´s office.
Phineas took a deep breath before returning to the faculty room. Nobody seemed to miss him, since everybody was engaged in quite a vivid conversation about the latest Quidditch match. “EHEM, I am terribly sorry for the delay,“ he called causing his faculty members to turn to him, some of them with an annoyed look. “As is happens, I just got word that my wife is about to give birth so my precious presence is requested back in London.“ The annoyance in the other professors faces changed into surprise and benevolence, he even spotted Professor Garlick smiling and forming an “Oh“ with her mouth. “Professor Weasley, if you might be so kind to take over from here and tend to all the tasks in my yet untimed absence? Especially the school board dinner tonight. You can tell Fig to take over my correspondence with the Minister. You will receive an owl when I´m about to return.“ Professor Weasley nodded slowly taking in all the information. “Of course, Sir! What a surprise, I assume you have to leave immediately. We wish all the best to your wife and the child! Hogwarts will be in capable hands!“ The professors nodded approvingly. Phineas gave them a short nod and turned on his heel to stride out of the room and to make his way to his office.
Arriving there, he spotted Scrope with a leathern travel bag coming out of his personal chambers. If the damn elf had forgotten to put in his moustache paste and bundimun pomade, he would…! Phineas swallowed down his upcoming anger and headed straight to the fireplace. How he hated to be rushed! “Follow me shortly after, Scrope!“ he barked at his elf before throwing in a generous amount of floo powder in the fireplace. He then declared with a clear voice “12 Grimmauld Place“ and was taken in by the emerging emerald green flames.
When Phineas stepped out of the fireplace and into the drawing room of his family home in London, the familiar smell of old books, smoke and a hint of mould enveloped him. With a “Whuuuush“ sound Scrope followed behind him. Normally, when he would come home at the end of term or during the school holidays, his wife would be in here, reading, playing the piano, stitching or tending to one of the younger children on her lap. She would get up to greet him then, allowing him to give her a modest peck on the cheek. Even if it was highly unlikely that he would find that scenario in here now, due to the given circumstances, he had at least expected to find his sister in here, helping herself unshamefully to his firewhiskey and yelling at both his children and the house elves. But he certainly hadn´t expected the mayhem that was enfolding itself in front of him.
There was no sight of his wife or his sister. Instead, all of his younger children (Sirius was attending his second year in Hogwarts) were in the drawing room which looked like a complete mess. The sofas weren´t in place, he could spot burn marks on the silk cushions and dark curtains, there was a huge stain on one of the sofas of an unidentified source but likely of some sort of liquid, a broken teacup next to a shawl which had to be Ursula`s and numerous toys splattered on the floor. He caught his 5 year old son Arcturus with his mother´s wand sending sparks around (probably the cause of all the burns) while arguing with his older brother Phineas II who chased him trying to take the wand from him all the while carrying a heavy book with him he was definitely not allowed to read since it was from his father´s private study. On the floor, crying, sat his youngest and also his only daughter, Belvina. Phineas felt a storm rising inside. Was that his sister´s definition of “taking care of everything“? Where was that witch? “What in Merlin´s name is going on here?“ Phineas roared loudly. The three of them stopped in their motions. Only a loud sob of Belvina was heard. “Is that how you ought to behave in my absence, children?“ 10 year old Phineas II moved first, quickly hiding the book behind his back. “We are sorry, father!“ Phineas shot them an evil eye. He was about to give them a speech aboutbhow young purebloods should behave, when the uncomfortable silence was interrupted by a loud scream coming from upstairs. That could only be his wife. Apparently, he hadn´t arrived too late. Now he had to look for his sister and make sure that his wife was alright. For a second time, he hoped that a healer was with her. Narrowing his eyes to his brats of children, he turned around and stormed towards the door calling „We will talk about your intolerable behaviour later! Scrope!“ On his way out he stepped on something that resembled a wooden snake and heard a crack. That made Belvina start crying again. He didn´t care but made it out of the drawing room as fast as possible.
In the hallway, he nearly ran into Dinky, Ursula´s personal house elf, who was on her way upstairs letting a bowl with water and some towels flow in front of her. The elf shrieked upon his arrival in the hallway, nearly splattering the water, before quickly making a little bow. “Welcome back, Master Black. Mistress Ursula is upstairs with Mistress Elladora, Sir. Dinky is getting everything that is required,“ she quaked. Phineas gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment to then hurry upstairs and towards the master bedroom.
When he opened the door he had to witness an even more unpleasant scene. Leaning against one of the posters of the big canopy bed breathing heavily while holding her large belly and only dressed in a nightgown, was his wife Ursula. Her long dark hair was pulled away in a messy braid revealing her pale face. Near the lit fireplace, he spotted his sister. Elladora Black, 3 years younger than Phineas, was a haughty looking witch who had inherited the Black genetics with dark hair, high cheekbones and grey eyes and carried herself with a certain stern grace. Phineas was always a bit taken aback by how much she resembled himself. She was dressed in an elaborated black satin dress, her hair put up in a fashionable style. Family jewellery was gleaming on her ears and neck. Despite her imposing exterior of an attractive pure blood witch, Phineas knew that she was a harpy. Since they had been children, Elladora was cold hearted and had no sympathy but a strong tendency for cruelty. She hated Muggles with all her heart holding their family’s belief in the supremacy of pure blood high and liked to order so called subordinates such as children and house elves around. The latter had cost more than one of the Black house elves its head. Phineas would never admit it, but there were times, he was afraid of his sister. She was unpredictable and she always needed a victim.
“Good grace, Ursula, you should be used to it right now! Why don´t you just lie down and get it over with? Apparently the child is already on its way, so why make such a fuss out of it? Don´t act so ungraceful! Where is that bloody elf of yours? That little beast doesn´t expect me to get my hands dirty, does it? That is its head then! I´m not going to touch any stained sheet,“ she clamoured. She then spotted Phineas standing in the door frame, a brief look of guilt on her face that quickly turned into displeasure. “Ah, Phineas, took you long enough! As you can see, I have everything under control. I suggest you wait downstairs and look after the rest of your breed, this is a woman´s business after all.“ Phineas was about to say something, maybe telling his dragon of a sister to not speak with such an attitude to him, the head of the family. If she had everything under control why was nobody downstairs making sure the children didn´t kill each other or broke down the house while unsupervised? That was a woman´s business, as well, wasn´t it? Plus he didn´t like the way she was talking to his wife. His dear sister, despite her pretending, knew nothing about giving birth not having a family of her own (who would have married her?). And he certainly would not let her behead another house elf. “Why hasn´t the healer arrived yet? You did call for the healer, Elladora?“ he asked with a warning undertone. A whimper made him look at his wife. He made an attempt to move over to her but was stopped by her making a dismissive gesture and then turning away from him to restlessly circle the room holding her back. “What do you think, Phineas? As I said, everything is under control! Salazar knows where the healer is, I called for him right after I had got Ursula’s owl!“ Elladora retorted with an angry voice. After some laboured breaths Ursula stopped, closing her eyes tightly and letting out a long moan. With a roll of her eyes, Elladora got to her side and pushed Ursula towards the four poster bed. That was too much for Phineas. He didn´t dare to interfere anymore nor liked he to stand around useless, so he shot his sister a sinister look before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. He took a moment to regain his composure. The doorbell rang.
Phineas made his way downstairs where Scrope had already opened the door. In came a young wizard dressed in a coat with a badge on his chest, identifying him as a healer of St. Mungo´s Hospital although Phineas had never seen the man before. The Black family usually had their own personal healer, Mr. Bristow, at the hospital ready at hand whenever he might be needed. His absence alarmed Phineas. “Good day, Sir!“ the mediwizard greeted with a thick Cockney accent by bowing his head and taking of his hat. “I´m sure you had expected Mr. Bristow who, unfortunately, had caught the dragon pox. I´m here to replace him. Edward Lacey, “ he introduced himself. “Black,“ Phineas retorted and shook the man´s hand. Even caught off-guard, he wouldn´t forget his manners. “I was indeed expecting Bristow.“ “Ah, yes, the poor man. Well, I came as fast as I could after receiving the owl. I assume it is your wife who is about to give birth? Has her water broken yet?“
Phineas was taken aback by the forward question of the man and also slightly embarrassed by the delicate topic. It was most improper to talk about things like that in male company and at the door! And the wizard certainly didn´t expect him to know of such things. He was the healer after all! The image of the large stain on the sofa in the drawing room and Ursula’s belongings next to it came to his mind and he managed to count two and two together. Merlin, why had he even have to think about such things? “Ah, ehem, yes, I suppose. My sister is with her at the moment!“ he stuttered and cleared his throat, a poor attempt to not let his composure slip in front of the younger man.
He still was suspicious. Not even that went as he was used to it. For the birth of his other children they had called upon the trusted Mr. Bristow who would never dare ask such questions! He didn´t want to let his family treated by anyone else. Mr. Bristow was an excellent healer with years of experience. And a pureblood as well. Phineas doubted the greenhorn in front of him possessed any of these qualities. Mr. Lacey took off his coat and handed it over to Scrope along with his hat, the elf waiting quietly to be of assistance. The mediwizard still kept his bag and wand. “Very well, Mr Black. I better go and see your wife now. Is she upstairs?“ Phineas turned his head to Scrope and gestured for him to guide the mediwizard to the master bedroom. Scrope bowed his head before starting to trail in front of the healer. Before Mr. Lacey could follow the elf, he was hold back with a strong grip on his forearm by Phineas. Phineas towered over the younger wizard, giving him a stern almost intimidating look before murmuring with a dangerous voice, “I advise you to work thoroughly, Mr. Lacey. I won´t accept anything else, especially when it comes to my family. If something happens to my wife or the child, losing your profession is the last thing you have to worry about. Did I make myself clear?“ Mr. Lacey swallowed, but hold the gaze, Phineas had to give that to the younger man. Their stare down was interrupted by a long female groan. „Yes, Sir, of course Sir! If you don´t mind, I think it is best to do my work now, “ the mediwizard hurried himself to say with bit of fear shown on his face. Phineas nodded, pleased with the effect of his threat and finally released his grip on the other´s arm. “Scrope, show Mr. Lacey upstairs.“
After the two of them were out of sight, Phineas ran a hand through his well-kept hair and tucked at his goatee. He felt that he had started to get a bit sweaty. Not that he was nervous, of course, he was NEVER nervous, but this day had already presented him with too many unexpected turns. Taking off his suit and loosening his bow tie slightly, he decided that it was best for him to retire to the drawing room and allow himself a generous glass of firewhiskey to calm his nerves. He entered the drawing room and stopped abruptly. He had completely forgotten about the three children he had left there after his arrival. It had been unusual quiet in the meantime. Arcturus was draped lazily on one of the armchairs still playing with his mother´s wand which was gleaming dangerously. There were some burn stains on his grey vest and on his shirt that hadn´t been there earlier. His older son, Phineas, was obviously trying to read the book he had stolen but was looking up upon the creak of the opening door. Suddenly, a whirlwind of dark brown pin curls came running towards the older and slammed into him embracing his legs, all the while weeping like a willow. “Whhhyyy is mooooommmy screeeamming?“ Belvina cried. “Because she is in paaain!“ Arcturus mimicked her obviously enjoying teasing his sister. “Arcturus, stop it, you´re scaring her!“ said Phineas II and shot him an evil look before turning towards Black for support. “Father! Arcturus took Mother`s wand and tried to hex me when I told him to stop.“ Phineas closed his eyes for second, noticing a headache approaching. Why had children have to be so…difficult? He tried to walk over to the free sofa opposite to his son but noticed that Belvina was still clinging on to his leg. With a roll of his eyes, he loosened her grip around him and picked her up. Her face was red and swollen from crying and she shoved her wet nose right in his bow tie leaving wet spots on the expensive fabric. He didn´t know what to do, so he gently patted her back all the while her little body throbbed with cries and told her, “Ah, ah, Belvina. Your mother is delivering your sibling. There is pain but it lies within a woman´s nature to endure that!“ He heard Arcturus huff. Apparently, his explanation didn´t seem to calm Belvina down. “But whyyyyyyyy paaaaaain. I want to go to Moooommy.“ Overstrained, Phineas carried her over to the sofa and sat her next to Phineas II who put away the book and put an arm around his little sister. “We have to stay downstairs, Bel. Mother will be fine. You can see her later when she is feeling better, okay?“ Belvina began to nod slowly, but still half convinced. At least she had stopped the crying.
In the meantime, Phineas went over to his other son and shot him a glare. “Is that the proper way to sit in a chair, Arcturus? And you will hand me over your mother´s wand immediately! You are not allowed to do magic yet. And look at the state of yourself. I am disappointed. Get up and sit with your siblings. We will talk about the burn stains later!“ he growled and gave Arcturus a clip around the ears. That seemed to reinstall some respect to the boy. “I do apologize father,“ Phineas said nothing and turned away. He snapped his finger to summon Scrope and the elf appeared in front of him. “Scrope. I want you to clean up that mess!“ He motioned towards the stain on the sofa, the burn marks and the broken teacup. “And bring me some firewhiskey.“
With a look at his children, now seated in a row on the other sofa observing him warily, he bellowed: “Do you want anything to drink, children?“ Belvina, who had calmed down a bit, looked up with an almost mischievous little grin, before chirping, “Can we have hot chocolate?” Phineas looked at her flabbergasted. How his daughter could turn from a crying mess to be a cheeky devil was beyond his understanding. But because he wanted to avoid another crying fit of hers and simply longed to sit in calmness now, he decided not to argue. Normally, the children wouldn´t be allowed to have a sweet treat especially not after such a display of misbehaviour. But since it was a rather special situation, his head wouldn´t stand another tantrum of hers and he couldn´t find a better idea to quiet them down, Phineas gave in.
“Very well, then, Scrope. Three hot chocolates for the children.“ Finally he was allowed to rest himself on the sofa, taking a sip of the strong beverage and felt his nerves untangle. Phineas closed his eyes and inhaled the strong scent of firewhiskey. The situation was bizarre. Was he expected to entertain his children now? Usually Ursula would take care of that. One could never know what they were up to, especially with young Belvina. Oh, the eternal crying, trying to grab everything very tightly (he always had to fear for his moustache and goatee) and… the smelling. Overall very tiresome. He would never understand why Ursula insisted to tend to all of them herself, she even nursed them all by herself even if he certainly could have afforded a wet-nurse. They often would argue about the children, with that, Ursula could be very stubborn. On top of that, his dear wife was on edge most of the time during a pregnancy, sometimes to the point where he preferred to stay in Hogwarts rather than to come home.
The silence that hung now over the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place was only occasionally interrupted by the children slurping on their hot chocolate and some screams from Ursula upstairs that seemed to become more frequent. Phineas tried to not listen too carefully to those, as the sheer thought of the process of giving birth made him feel uncomfortable again. He could remember his wife being that vocal during the other deliveries of his children and he knew, as graceful as she always behaved, that she had to be in much pain, otherwise she wouldn´t be so undignified to let herself go. He could only hope for the birth to not take all day and night as was the case with his eldest son, Sirius. That would simply be too much for his nerves. Also his other children sitting in front of him would only be pacified until the last drop of their sweet treat, especially Belvina. By Merlin, how was he supposed to know what to do with them that long? Why couldn´t they just… read… or play a good game of chess... or just entertain themselves on their own?! And quietly so!
Phineas caught himself thinking about fleeing to his study, locking the door and massaging his temples when suddenly, they could hear that Ursula’s cries had been replaced by the faint cries of a baby upstairs. Phineas inhaled deeply, feeling a sensation of relief wash over him. Apparently, the birth had been rather quick. Opposite of him, he saw Belvina looking up from her cup, her mouth covered in chocolate and listening to the sound yet foreign to her. She looked at her brothers who smiled at her and it was then, that she seemed to understand and turning to her father, she smiled, too. Phineas had always had a soft spot for his only daughter and in that moment, seeing the sheer happiness in her eyes, he couldn´t help it but to lift the corners of his mouth slightly.
Later, when a very exhausted but content looking Ursula put the new-born child in his arms (he had managed to sire another son, he had proudly acknowledged), his heart filled with a little bit of love and joy although he would never get emotional. Even if the boy was too tiny, wrinkled, crying and had already claimed all of Phineas wife´s attention and affection for the next months, he was still another proud member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. “We shall name him Cygnus, after my father,“ he declared. And a little swan he was indeed, delicate and small, but already carrying the heavy legacy of the name Black.