The Black Lion

 The Black Lion 

Chapter 14

Hermione had barely recovered from the day’s lessons with Sirius and Narcissa when Regulus approached her with a faint smile, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Come with me, you’re not done for the day,” he tells her his voice smooth but firm.

Putting down her parchment a small frown tugging on her lips, “Done with what? I thought we were finished for the day.” she responds with a confused look on her face.

Regulus’ lips twitched, though the expression wasn’t quite a smile. “I’ll be showing you something that won’t fit in any textbook. Something you have to touch to understand, especially as you take place as the heir of our family”

Holding up a locket so she can see, the intricate design of the Black family crest catches the light. It gleamed as though it held secrets of its own.

Looking at the locket Hermione steps to grab it but Regulus pulls it away from her slightly.

‘Just like Dorcas, she didn’t hesitate to try to touch it before asking what it was.’ he thinks to himself.

Hermione looked at him with a questioning face, “What is it?” she asked him her voice soft.

“A portkey,” Regulus replied. “To Black Manor.”

Her breath caught at the mention of the manor. She had heard the stories the grandeur, the history, and the way it had always been associated with the Black family’s ancient, almost intimidating power.

“I thought it had been abandoned.” she says barely above a whisper.

Regulus chuckles softly before responding, “Grimmauld Place is a shadow of what the Black family once was, many people think this is our family manor however, they are sadly mistaken.”. 

His voice darkened with the weight of the truth.  “Black Manor is where our legacy lies. You need to see it to understand the full extent of the power and responsibility you’re inheriting.”

Looking at the locket closely, Hermione nods in understanding, “When do we leave?” she asks him, excitement building in her voice.

His lips curled into a small smirk, which made her take a step back slightly. “Now, " he told her.

He grabs her hand and places the locket in both hands. They were whisked away in a rush of wind and light, the world around them spinning.

The moment Hermione’s feet hit solid ground again, she stumbled, unsteady from the sudden portkey travel. Regulus caught her arm effortlessly, his grip steady.

The grand entrance of Black Manor with big Victorian gates. The dark stone of the mansion loomed over them, stretching high into the overcast sky. Ivy clung to the walls, creeping over the stone like a living thing, and the air was thick with the remnants of centuries-old magic. There was an ancient feeling to the place, an energy that hummed beneath the stone, old but alive. 

“This is Black Manor, our family home. The first home our ancestors ever lived in. Where it all started.” Regulus tells her breaking her out of her evaluation of the manor.

Hermione's breath caught as she looked over the Manor, it was such an imposing structure. She had seen many impressive structures in her life but this one felt different. In a sense, it almost seemed alive. It felt as though the house itself was watching her, its windows like dark eyes. It seemed like the Manor knew everything about her but nothing as well. She took a small step forward before she felt a hand on her shoulder stopping her.

“You need to understand, Hermione, this place isn’t just a Manor, it’s an extension of the Black family’s magic.” Regulus’ voice broke her thinking. He moved toward the front door and gestured for her to follow.

As soon as they entered the manor, Hermione was astonished by the magnitude of it all. On the wall were moving portraits of their family members. Some she had even read about in books at Hogwarts. The ceilings were high with the biggest black chandelier with diamonds she had ever seen in the middle of the room. It just screamed money and power.

Looking around the room she could feel the portraits eyes watching her some with interest and others with judgment. 

‘Is that the heir?’ she hears one whisper

‘A girl as heir to the House Of Black, what have we become?’ another whispers.

‘Shut up will you.’ another voice says harshly not even trying to whisper. The voice was harsh and strong making all the other portraits silent.

Hermione turns her head to see who silenced everyone. Looking at the man who spoke harshly to the others. Giving him a once over she realizes he looks exactly like a mixture of Regulus and Sirius; he has Sirius's height and stature but Regulus' baby face. Stepping closer to the portrait to read the name ‘Arcturus Black III’ she lets out a soft gasp.

The portrait looks down at her and huffs. “Well let me see you, girl.” he tells her.

Hermione steps forward mouth gaping open. Regulus steps forward as well.

“Hello, grandfather,” Regulus tells the portrait.

Arcturus lets out another huff and gives Regulus a once-over. It seemed as though the old portrait decided to ignore him and focus on Hermione. Stepping out of the portrait he begins to float around Hermione giving her a once-over.

“Yes, yes I’ve heard about you, my girl. I can see it from just a glance. A Black through and through. Fighting in a war, running around with that Potter and Weasley. Yes. It seems as though you take after that true witch of a mother of yours more than your father. However, I see the Black behind your eyes and the way you handle things. Vindictive little thing aren't you?” he tells her spinning around her.

“What have you heard about me?” Hermione asked him confused.

Letting out a soft chuckle, “You do know your great uncle was Headmaster at Hogwarts he told me all about the spelled parchment and even told me about that Skeeter bug you had to handle.” Arcturus answers.

“They deserved everything I’ve done to them. Bloody hell, I could say Skeeter deserves worse,” she tells him. 

“Yes, you’re more Black than you know my girl,” he tells her before going back inside his portrait.

Before Hermione could question him on what he meant Regulus grabs her hand and pulls her out of the room. 

“Don’t let him get under your skin, Hermione. Grandfather had a talent for pointing out flaws real or imagined. But he wasn’t wrong about one thing: you are a Black through and through.” he whispers in her ear.

Regulus led her deeper into the manor, into what appeared to be a vast library, shelves upon shelves of ancient, leather-bound tomes stretching as far as Hermione could see. He motions for her to sit as he begins to pull out hug tomes.