14 - Vive la Révolution!
20 March 1996
Silver Swan Restaurant
“Reservation under Black-Gaunt,” Alhena told the hostess as they walked in.
“Right this way.” She led them to the private room. “Enjoy your meals.”
Thomas stood as soon as the Silver Quartet – plus Bill – entered, bowing. “Merry meet, Lady Peverell, Lord Potter-Stinchcombe, Lady Dagworth-Granger, Mr Weasley, Lord Weasley.” He gestured to his companions. “May I introduce you to Lord Corvus Lestrange, Lord Benjamin Nott, Lord Gareth Greengrass, and Lord Armand Warrington?”
“Merry meet,” Alhena said with a polite smile, and it was echoed by everyone in the room. “Lords Gaunt, Lestrange, Nott, Greengrass, and Warrington, this is Hermione Granger, Lady Dagworth Granger, Hadrian Potter, Lord Potter-Stinchcombe, the Honourable Mr Ronald Weasley, and Lord William Weasley. Call us by our names, please, the usage of our titles makes us feel older than our years.”
“That applies to us as well. Please be seated.” Thomas was smiling politely, although there was a hint of intrigue in his eyes. “Lunch first, then business.”
The quintet took their seats, and the assembled group ordered their meals. When it arrived, Alhena shot Ron a warning glare – reminiscent of the start of the school year – and got a gulp and an infinitesimal nod in return, before tucking in.
“How is school this term?” Corvus inquired politely.
“Stressful, despite Professor Lupin’s return,” Alhena confessed. “Madam Umbridge, to put it mildly for politeness’ sake, messed up our education. Although, Professor Lupin did say that it could have been far worse, if some of our more intrepid friends didn’t implement our idea of using Redrow’s book to form – temporarily illegal – study groups among themselves. And our OWLs are drawing closer and closer every day. Hermione is even creating her infamous study and revision schedules.”
Gareth laughed quietly. “I can imagine the stress. But seriously, illegal study groups?”
“As Sirius has said approximately fifty dozen times since January, we’re the next generation of Marauders. All four of us were in Gryffindor prior to August, and some of the traits linger, like sheer nerve.” Alhena chuckled.
“Morgana help us.” Gareth shook his head. “Having the original Marauders’ first three school years overlap with my last three was an experience, to say the least, with all their pranks.”
“No pranks for us, I’m afraid. That’s the Weasley Twins’ department,” Hermione said, giggling. “Our style of marauding, as Sirius put it, is more undermining authority…”
Ron let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like “Dumbledore.”
“…and inciting a revolution,” Hermione finished
“Don’t forget bringing back traditions and causing anarchy worthy of the Lefthand Path,” Harry added.
“In short, where the Marauders’ speciality is widespread mischief, the Silver Quartet’s is widespread – if controlled – mayhem,” Alhena said with a wink. “Which goes hand-in-hand with, how did Harry describe us back in January?”
“With some paraphrasing for politeness’ sake,” Hermione said with a smirk, “a Quidditch fanatic and Defence natural, a temperamental chessmaster and strategist, a conventional genius whose only weak points lie in creativity and flying, and a genius necromancer who might very well be chaos personified due to their sheer defiance of every known law of magic, Gamp’s Law included.”
That set the older Lords off, and even the Quartet snickered in remembrance.
“How would you describe your group, Alhena?” Benjamin inquired, curiosity gleaming in his dark eyes.
“Ah, well…” Alhena took a breath. “A necromancer and seer that tosses the so-called Laws of Magic in the rubbish, whose weaknesses lie in any airborne activities, a genius that would very easily rival Rowena Ravenclaw herself – with minor issues where creativity is concerned, a chessmaster, strategist and seer who utters prophecies and visions in such a bland way that when you realise what just occurred you’re utterly stumped, and a potential Defence Master with Quidditch talent in their blood, and every bit of the sheer chaos associated with their line since the days of Linfred de Stinchcombe, who was chaotic enough to make Chronos himself curse his line to forever live in interesting times.”
“That’s a very interesting description,” Benjamin said softly.
“I’m intrigued about how the four of you all ended up in Gryffindor, and then followed each other into Slytherin,” Armand leant forward.
“That’s easy,” Ron said for once. “All of us were meant for Slytherin, one way or the other, and we were reluctant to be sorted there until Alhena’s inheritance test forced us to undergo an entire paradigm shift.”
“To quote Alhena when Ron said that he was unfortunately meant to go to Slytherin: Unfortunately? Cedrella Weasley née Black and Lucretia Prewitt née Black would be offended,” Bill added.
The Lords chuckled, smiling at the youngsters’ antics.
“In all seriousness, Armand, Harry had a run-in with Heir Malfoy in Diagon Alley and then on the Hogwarts Express before first year, and was unfortunately not impressed by him,” Alhena explained. “Ron wanted to be in the same house as Harry, Hermione picked Gryffindor because Dumbledore had been there, and I… well, I hadn’t been particularly impressed by Heir Parkinson.”
“That, I can understand,” Corvus said with a laugh. “Samuel Parkinson – a contemporary of mine – was quite… difficult to interact with at the best of times.”
“You put it kindly, Corvus,” Thomas said with a shake of his head. “Samuel was a spiteful popinjay with an ego that dwarfed my own.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Harry muttered under his breath.
“I’m aware,” Thomas said with a smirk, “but my ego was due to valid reasons. Samuel’s was due to the family wealth, which means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things.” He looked around them, noticing that everyone was finished with the main courses. “Shall we order dessert, and then discuss business?”
Alhena ordered an indulgent slice of chocolate cake, being in the mood to indulge, whereas Hermione – ever health-conscious – ordered a slice of carrot cake, Ron ordered a slice of vanilla cake, Harry copied Alhena, and Bill ordered Red Velvet cake. The older Lords seemed to collectively settle on sponge cake, and Alhena wasn’t one to judge.
Thomas turned to Alhena – recognising her as the general spokesperson for the group – and went directly to the heart of the issue. “You are proposing a truce?”
“Not merely a truce,” Alhena said with a shake of her head, raising strong privacy wards alongside the restaurant’s own. “Some of us wish to join.”
“Intriguing. Explain.”
“We have a list of 21 Order or Order-adjacent members that are utterly disillusioned with Dumbledore,” Alhena started explaining, “and there’s a split between those of us that are willing to go Dark and willing to go Neutral. But the sentiment remains, we are disillusioned and willing to reach a truce, minimum.”
“Give me the names.” Thomas’ authoritative voice made its appearance.
“Alright.” Alhena wasn’t going to argue with the Dark Lord. “For Neutral, Molly, Arthur, Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Edward Tonks, Luna Lovegood, and Alastor Moody. Yes, I’m sure Lord Rosier will be surprised.” She paused for a minute. “For Dark, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Charlie and Percy Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dora and Andromeda Tonks, and the five of us.” She gestured between the quartet and Bill.
“Interesting. Who do I have to watch out for?”
“All of the Phoenix Group members, plus Sturgis Podmore.”
“Hm.” Thomas studied the group. “May I ask why, besides disillusionment?”
“Freedom to be myself,” Harry offered up, “and to not be recognised as just the Boy-Who-Lived.”
“My ambitions,” Hermione said simply.
“I’m technically neutral, merely a supporter,” Bill offered with his hands in the air. “But I’d like to prevent a Goblin War in this day and age, and the path we’re on will lead to another.”
“I’d like to not be compared to Pettigrew, who was the Marauders’ weak link,” Ron offered up. “I have a temper, but I value my friends.”
Alhena took the longest to respond. “My soulmates, tradition, revolution… A lot of reasons, in all honesty. But perhaps nothing more than respect. The Light – especially Dumbledore’s ilk – tend to positively loathe necromancers and Parselmouths. I’m both, and more. Malignant Legilimens are rare, especially in Britain, because most of them were killed in the late 1880s. I’d rather not be executed for my abilities.”
“Well, in that case…” Thomas smiled. “I bid you welcome. The Mark is your choice, and your choice alone.”
The group inhaled sharply, trading looks. But Alhena had a wistful smile on her face, swaying slightly in her seat.
“Al?” Hermione touched her shoulder in concern.
“A new era has begun, and we are at the centre of it. Magic’s restoration is in our hands.” Alhena shook her head sharply. “Sorry, being a Seer is inconvenient sometimes.”
“Do you generally remember what has been said?” Corvus sounded intrigued.
“Of course, I do,” Alhena said, mildly offended, “I’m not Trelawney.”
That set the Quartet and Bill off, much to the older Lords’ amusement.
“May I have some context?” Gareth’s tone carried his amusement.
“Sybil Trelawney is the Divination professor, a general source of frustration for any other Seers at Hogwarts, and addicted to cooking sherry,” Hermione was the one to answer. “Her classroom is also a general headache inducer due to the eyewatering incenses.”
“In my day, the Divination professor was Esmerelda Vablatsky, a relative of Cassandra Vablatsky – the author of Unfogging the Future,” Benjamin said, amused. “Is the class still in the North Tower?”
“Obviously,” Harry said in a tone resembling Severus’ – which made everyone present laugh.