Reputations

Atticus Shakleblolt sat in his old friend's study sipping firewhiskey, noting with some concern that Dorian looked both antsy and devastated.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong or are you going to attempt to shatter that glass with the force of your stare alone?” he asked finally when no information was forthcoming.

Dorian Greengrasses head shot up to look at him before he seemed to deflate. “Cordelia’s pregnant,” he whispered.

Atticus froze. “Oh?”

“Its fucking James Potters.”
Atticus’ eyebrows reached his hairline. “James Potter as in James Potter who married the redheaded muggleborn a month ago? That James Potter?”

“Yes,” he sighed, “They were…there was the beginnings of an understanding apparently before…but he slept with the new Mrs Potter before they agreed anything officially and apparently Fleamont never taught the boy the contraceptive charm. She was almost four months along when they married, neither of them had a choice, it was arranged within a fortnight.” he gave a humourless huff of laughter. “Cordelia and James were saying goodbye the day before the pre-wedding contract was signed. And now we’re in this mess.”
“Mother of Merlin.” Atticus muttered, his mind whirling. Although….”Kingsley is infertile.” he blurted, “They caught it during one of those routine scans the Aurory insist on. Curse gone wrong…or right, I suppose depending on the casters intention.”
Dorian blinked, “I’m so sorry.”
Atticus shrugged, shaking his head, “He had planned to eventually make Regina’s firstborn his Heir but…”
“But?” Dorian frowned. 

Deciding on bluntness, “Regina is not yet out of Hogwarts. We need a Heir, your grandchild needs respectability.”
“You don't…But…the curse.”
“Yours?” Attiucs frowned, his stomach dropping as he realised where this was going.

Dorian slumped, “This child will likely kill the girl. She has the Greengrass bloodcurse. It's why she was never meant to have an understanding with anyone who required an Heir.”
“Fuck, Dory,” he hissed, “I’m…there are options…”
“No!” Dorian cut him off, “She wouldn't hear of it even if we could stomach the idea. She loves the arse. It damn near broke her when she found out they lost the babe.”
“The Potters?” Atticus asked, trying to keep up.

“Yes,” he sighed, “I wouldn't wish it on anyone, you understand, but could it not have happened earlier, before that damned wedding?”

Atticus sighed, “The Gods move in mysterious ways.”
Dorian slumped,“Isn’t that the truth. I cant help but feel they’re all up there laughing at this fucking mess. But I’ll talk to her. I suggest you talk to your son. It’s…Merlin. It might be best. It’d need to be blood bound though.”
“Of course,” Atticus dismissed. “And Dory? I truly am sorry. If there's anything we can do…regardless of whether or not the children agree, you’ll let me know, won't you?”
Dorian swallowed down his tears. “Of course,” he nodded briskly. “Perhaps Thalia will visit Aster? She is not doing well. Neither is Jared, he's talking of postponing his wedding. Thankfully Antonia is an understanding woman but I cannot see Master Krum accepting it indefinitely. I have tried to counsel allowing things to proceed as planned in the hope of spending time with her after their honeymoon. She is not going to stop being herself until she’s forced to. Of course, should they agree to be married, she’ll have a husband to contend with as well as her family.

“He would never prevent her…”
“Oh I know,” Dorian waved him off, “Your Kingsley’s a good boy, but it will still change the dynamics somewhat.”
“Perhaps,” he allowed. “I’ll talk to him. He’d never say it out loud but he always wanted children. Dory, if they agree, you know he’ll love the child like it's his own.”

Dorian nodded, not quite sure he could trust his voice as he pictured his grandchild growing up without its mother. He didn't doubt Atticus’ words, and he prayed to whatever Gods might be listening that the children agreed to this plan but it still hurt, the thought of a tiny defenceless babe made motherless, probably before its first birthday. Worse still, the thought of the girl who had been his own defenceless babe, dead long before she should have been. He wanted to rage and scream and destroy things, while simultaneously locking himself in a room to cry. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. But there was no cure. His own sister had gone the way his daughter surely would and he wasn't sure he was strong enough to withstand the pain of it. 

With a last look of sympathy, Atticus stood squeezing his shoulder as he stood. “I’ll talk to Kingsley and send Thalia over.” he offered gently before heading for the floo. 

“Kingsley!” he shouted, spotting his son's cloak when he hung his own.

“Master Kingsley is in the garden.” a small elf announced, popping into existence beside him.

“Thank you, Lori.” he murmured, heading out into the grounds, spotting his son racing Evan Rosier on their brooms like the boys they used to be.

“Father!” Kingsley halted mid air when he spotted him on his turn to head back to the beginning, Evan paused beside him, shooting him a look as they flew back down to the ground.

“Mr Shaklebolt,” Evan nodded, as Kingsely headed to the broom shed “I’ll just be heading home now.”

Atticus snorted, “I’m not going to shout at him. He's no longer a child.”
Evan shifted before grinning, “To be fair, Sir, you’ve got that look on your face. And no offence, but I’ve sat through enough of your scoldings to not want to witness another one, adult or not.”
Rolling his eyes, Atticus shoved him in the direction of the floo, “Off you go then, you coward.”
“I prefer to think of it as having a healthy sense of self preservation, Sir,” he cheeked.

“Expect him in under an hour, Evan.” Atticus warned, his voice suddenly serious.
Evan frowned, “Is everything alright, Sir?”
“No,” Atticus sighed, “But I’ll let him discuss it with you.”

Freezing, Evan searched Atticus’ face before nodding, “Alright, Sir. I’ll leave the floo open.”
Atticus smiled wanly as the boy, man, wandered away from him. “Evan gone home to avoid the lecture?” Kingsley grinned.

“Of course he has,” Atticus agreed, “The boy never did like being told off.”
“To be fair, Father, your lectures tended to be more pointed than most.” he laughed before deepening his voice, “You are both sons of Ancient and Noble houses and this is how you behave? Your ancestors are rolling in the crypts! You made us feel so guilty every time you caught us.”

Atticus laughed, “Didn’t stop the lot of you behaving like hooligans on a regular basis though did it?”
Kingsley shrugged unrepentantly, the amusement clear on his face. “What was it you wanted?”
“Come with me to the study.” Kingsley frowned, his mirth disappearing quickly as he  followed him, knowing nothing was ever discussed in his fathers study unless it was serious. “Sit.” Atticus commanded when they reached the room.

“Father?” Kingsley’s frown deepened as he took the glass offered to him, appreciating the comforting warmth of the whiskey as it hit his stomach.

“Cordelia Greengrass is confirmed to be afflicted by the Greengrass blood curse.”

Kingsley froze, “What?”
“She's also pregnant.” Atticus paused, “A known trigger of the curse.”
“But I….Father are you telling me Deils is going to die?”
“Yes.” Atticus nodded, forcing his voice to remain even. 

“When?” Kingsley rasped before he stilled for a second time. “I know I didn't miss her wedding.”
“No,” Atticus agreed, “She had a…preliminary understanding with James Potter by all accounts.”

“But James married Lily Evans last month!”

“Because she was also pregnant.”
“He chose Evans over Deils?” Kingsley demanded, outraged.

“No,” Atticus soothed, “Mrs Potter was over three months along at their wedding, Cordelia has not long discovered her pregnancy. I do not believe James knows.”
“Fuck,” Kingsley hissed. “Why…why are you telling me this?”
“You need an Heir.” Atticus responded bluntly, “And Cordelia needs to not be embroiled in a scandal during the last months of her life.”

“But I…you mean…fuck!” he howled, his eyes wild.

“Control yourself!” Atticus demanded harshley, his grip on his own emotions tenuous at best, before he softened his voice. “I will not force you, but I ask that you give the matter serious consideration. Dorian is demanding that you blood adopt the child, I would advocate for it regardless. This child will be yours, Kings. And I imagine that it would give Cordelia comfort to know her child will be looked after even after…” he paused, not quite able to say it as it truly hit him that the little girl who had grown up calling him Uncle from the moment she could speak was going to die. The little girl who was the same age as his son, who was bright, and daring and loving and so full of life it was physically painful for him to think of her not being. “I need to ask your mother to call on Aster.” he said abruptly instead, not able to bear the horrified look on his son's face as he attempted not to give into his own grief.