1974, The House of Black
Sometime in March, 1974.
It was her first day of attending class. Mr Dunbar had given her all the instructions and recommendations regarding the tutoring. She was expected to the famous pure-blood family, the Blacks. There, she would be taken in charge to study and practice the required magic for her future education at Hogwarts.
The young witch felt quite intimidated. She had heard all sorts of stories about the Black clan. They were the 'royalty' of the pure-bloods (or saw themselves as it). Mr Dunbar had specified their rather peculiar way of living, but had ensured his daughter they had the best tutors in town. They owned a special practice room in their large family home, allowing the youngest members to practice even before being of age. That was, of course, with the supervisions of a professional and skilled adult wizard with them.
Agnes was excited. She had packed her bag and filled it with different books and writing supplies, and was ready to go. She had learnt the route to the Blacks' house by flying, and planned use her newly acquired broom to get there.
It felt nice to fly again after so long. The fresh wind was crushing onto her cheeks, and she smelled the early spring air, enjoying the freedom of finally moving around by herself, without anyone to keep an eye on her.
After a dozens of minute, Agnes had arrived in Islington. There, she had been told how to penetrate the house, and found herself being welcomed by a grumpy looking houseelf. He bowed religiously and took her coat and broom, before leading her downstairs. The house was quiet, as if no one lived there. The walls and floors were all of dark colors, and the outside light was barely piercing though the thick curtains.
She felt like an intruder, sort of. She knew that the traditions and ancestral beliefs were what made the Black family one of the most influential in the Wizarding society. What would they have thought of a young witch born out of wedlock, now living with the man who abandonned her when she was still in the womb? She'd rather not think about it.
They had eventually arrived in a sort of basement, where the room was so large it had different parts to. On the left, there were desks with a blackboard facing it, and on the other corner, a protected square seemed to be used to practice spells and duelling.
It looked pretty cool, Agnes admitted. The house elf intruscted her to wait for her tutor, which she did. An old man entered a few minutes later, a couple of books under the arm and round goggles on his nose.
- Good morning miss -er- Lenoir. (He had checked on his paper). Please take a seat, we won't waste any time to dive into the powerful world of magical knowledge.
The morning had gone by so fast. the theorical classes were interesting, although Agnes had already caught the most part in the books she was studying in a free time. For lunch, she was allowed to eat in a small room next to the classroom, alone.
She did not mind, really. But the austere atmosphere of the house made her feel quite uneasy. In the afternoon, she would have the practical lessons. She felt quite exciting about these.
An hour later, another tutor had introduced herself and had directly started her lessons. Agnes had learnt the correct position of spells she had practiced once or twice at Beauxbatons, and practiced a few charm spells to get used to her wand again. It felt really good to do magic without being scared of being caught. And she had to say the tutors were good at their job. They did not waste a second and spotted every flaw Agnes might have in terms of posture, pronounciation, or wand movement.
Her first day was already over, and she could not wait to come back to learn more.
She was riding her broom, back to the Dunbars, her heart feeling as light as a feather. In front of her, the sun was setting already as she increased her speed to make it in time for dinner.
May 23rd, 1974
She had met Mrs. Narcissa Black, today. She had visited her aunt Mrs Black. Agnes had met the latter a few times, but they had never exchanged more than a few words. But when she had entered the Black's house, as she was used to since a few months, she had encountered a new face.
Narcissa Black was a rather beautiful woman, with slick blond hair. She looked quite young and her eyes seemed to hold much pride. Agnes had politely introduced herself, but Narcissa had just glanced at her before entering the living room, and the french witch had quickly climbed down the stairs to join her tutor who was already waiting for her.
- I am sorry I am late, I encountered Mrs Black in the entrance and had to pay my respects, sir. Agnes had apologized.
Her tutor hated people being late, and Agnes had tried her best not to be, but it sometimes took her time to avoid Kreacher's long speech about the Blacks' virtues and longstanding presence or having to face unexpected people in the house.
The youngest sons were at Hogwarts, while the eldest had all moved out, which was why the house was quite empty most of the time.
- The Blacks. The Lenoirs. You know, your name have a common connotation. Had explained the old wizard, writing on the blacboard. You are named after the color black, representing the darkest and deepest shade. In the wizard genealogy, your families are linked by a common ancestor. The Blacks have connections with most of the pure-blood families, but yours is quite unknown to this day.
Agnes had never guessed her family could have been related to the Blacks. It was true that given the rather small density of the wizard population, it was usual to have common relatives with another family. But she'd have never imagined sharing an ancestry with such austere and scary people.
That day, Agnes had decided to wander around before going home after her class. Mr and Mrs Dunbar were out for the evening, which let her plenty of time to explore London on her broom. She was flying high, so that no muggle could spot her. The city looked so wide from above. It was nice to get a new perspective on the place she had been living in for the past months.
Winter had finally let spring take over and the trees had become thick and full of leaves. Another season had finally started. She remembered her previous springs. Long gone were the warm days at Beauxbatons, when the students would go on picnics in the fields, or played in the gardens during breaktime.
London was not all bad, she had to admit. She did miss the countryside and the calm of the south of France, but she enjoyed the liveliness of Diagon Alley, and the large library of the Dunbars. She also liked learning in a different way, more privately at the Blacks (although she always made sure she avoided overstay at any cost).
The soft evening wind was refreshening as Agnes was levitating on her broom, hidden between a few clouds. She decided it was finally time to go home. Securing her bag on her shoulder, she dived down rapidly towards the ground. The wind seemed to hold her safe, and she closed her eyes to feel even closer to the air, as if she was a part of it. Her fingers slowly left the broomstick and freed from their grab. It was truly liberating, and Agnes had to refrain a need to use her magic to enhance the feeling.
She grabbed the broom, slowly down as she was finally reaching the ground. Maybe once in Hogwarts, she could finally explore in depth this power she had been carefully hiding within herself for so long.
Her broom in hand, the young woman with long wavy brown hair was looking for the wall to reach Diagon Alley. She knew there was a few passages she could take to enter the famous street. She decided to try a new one she had heard Mrs Black talk about once.
The wall faded into a dark passage. Strange. Agnes carefully walked into it, unsure of where she was entering. There, a few scary-looking wizards were talking together, and some had already witnessed her presence. She lowered her head and tried to move as fast as possible. Quickly, she had reached the store front of a strange looking shop. Borgin & Burkes.
She was in Knockturn Alley.
She could not have made worse choice of place to end up in when the place was known to be the landmark for dark magic fanatics and other criminals in hiding.
Trying not to panic, she tried to hide her nervousness by walking at a constant pace. She knew where to go, she just had to reach Diagon Alley to get out of this mess. Some people were staring at her, but she ignored them. She had almost walked up the street when a familiar voice had reached her ears.
- Bellatrix, you can't be serious! This is mental. This is a crime..!
- Keep your voice low, Cissy. And you shouldn't doubt your big sister's choices.
- What you are doing, it is putting you in danger. Is it worth it?
- More than you think. Now, just focus on your relationship with Lucius. You'll see everything will come to its right place.
Agnes had stopped her pace and was secretely looking at the two Blacks sisters. But the youngest seemed to have sensed her presence and looked right at her. The young french woman felt her heart skip a beat and her pulse accelerate.
- Hey, you! What are you doing here? Had said Narcissa with the same disdain as she was used to.
Not controlling her body, Agnes had felt pushed outside of her hiding place to face the two women. Bellatrix looked terrifyingly menacing. Narcissa Black seemed to have recognized Agnes from the few times they have briefly met.
- I.. er.. running some errands. Agnes had answered, completely terrified.
- It's not a place for kids, now get out of here!
Agnes had nodded and had almost run up the street. Once out of their seight, she had started running, her broom grabbed firmly in one her hands, the lace of her bag in the other. She was running so fast the wizards in Diagon Alley had to push on the side to avoid her.
When she'd finally reached the Dunbar's house, she was out of breath, her forehead covered in sweat. What an adrenaline rush. She hurried to step into the house and went straight to her room.
What were Bellatrix formerly Black (now Lestrange) and her sister Narcissa Black doing in Knockturn alley?