THE BLACK FAMILY’S FAREWELL
The night before September 1st, the first day of Hogwarts, Alphard Black’s grand manor seemed unusually alive. The air, heavy with the scent of polished wood and the faintest trace of the incense Narcissa’s mother preferred, was thick with the hum of subdued conversation. All of the cousins still attending Hogwarts had gathered there for the night, even Regulus, though his presence was as obligatory as it was reluctant. It had been Alphard's idea, of course—this last evening together before the summer ended. "It’s a tradition for the family to spend time before parting," he’d explained with an air of sentimentality that surprised even his own children. "You’ll all go off to school, but you’ll always be family."
The soft clink of silverware echoed from the dining room as dinner had just wrapped up, and now, in the quieter drawing room, the cousins sat, sprawled on the velvet sofas and chairs. The room, dominated by its grand fireplace and walls lined with ancient portraits, felt like a space out of time, untouched by the concerns of the outside world. The night stretched on, and for the first time in a long while, they were not thinking about their legacies or their futures, just a group of kids soon to be sent into the unknown.
“Maybe the night won't be so boring after all, since Andromeda came,” Sirius whispered to Hermione and Regulus, his voice carrying the excitement of a child who had finally spotted a rare treasure among a pile of dull trinkets. His grey eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned in, keeping his voice low.
Regulus, smaller and more reserved, sat stiffly beside him, his posture perfect—just as their mother expected. He glanced at Sirius, his expression unreadable, before murmuring in response, “Bellatrix came too.” His tone lacked the enthusiasm that Sirius had, more observant than anything else.
Sirius scoffed, waving a dismissive hand before resting his chin on his palm. “Who cares? They won't stay over because they have work tomorrow,” he said, a smug grin tugging at his lips. His voice carried the same disgust he always had when it came to Bellatrix and her looming presence, as if he refused to acknowledge the weight she held in their family.
Regulus, however, did not share that sentiment. He lowered his gaze to his plate, tracing a finger against the rim of his goblet as if contemplating something. His young mind understood that Bellatrix wasn’t someone to ignore—not in the way Sirius wished he could.
Narcissa, already in her sixth year and nearing the end of her Hogwarts journey, sat comfortably in one of the manor's most luxurious chairs. Her posture, as always, was graceful, the epitome of Black pride, but tonight there was a relaxed air about her, perhaps because she wasn’t trying to impress anyone. She idly swirled a goblet of wine in her hand, her gaze occasionally flickering toward the windows where the Black Lake shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Her sisters, Bellatrix and Andromeda, were busy chatting quietly in another corner, but Narcissa’s attention was fixed on her cousins—on Regulus, Sirius, and especially Hermione, who had been unusually quiet that night.
"So, Slytherin," Narcissa began after a moment of thoughtful silence, looking at them all with a knowing smile. "It’s not so bad, really. You’ll see for yourselves soon enough." She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other in a poised manner. "The view is one of my favorite things. The Black Lake—it's so beautiful, especially when the moon hits it just right. You can always see the Giant Squid, drifting beneath the surface like some massive, silent creature. It feels... peaceful."
Hermione, always intrigued by any detail of the wizarding world, leaned in slightly, her curiosity piqued. She had always found the idea of the Black Lake fascinating, especially with its mysterious creatures. But hearing it from Narcissa, her cousin who had lived it, felt different, more real somehow.
"The common room," Narcissa continued, her voice taking on a more detached, almost clinical tone, "is in the dungeons. It’s hidden behind a plain stretch of stone wall—you’ll need a password to get in. You’ve probably heard that much already."
Sirius, ever the jester, sat sprawled across one of the plush armchairs, looking utterly uninterested, though his eyes betrayed a glimmer of curiosity. He exaggerated a yawn, leaning back dramatically, letting his arms hang loose. "Slytherin sounds terrifying, Cissy," he drawled sarcastically, eyes twinkling with mischief.
Narcissa shot him a playful glare but continued, undeterred. "You’ll get used to it," she said with a small, amused smile. "The common room is grand, but it’s not cozy. It has rough stone walls, and the ceiling’s low—like an old castle dungeon, really. There are green lamps hanging from chains, casting everything in a dim, emerald glow. The fire's always burning brightly under a carved mantelpiece, and the room itself... well, it's not made to be comfortable. It’s made to be impressive." She glanced at Sirius, as if daring him to make another remark. "It’s Slytherin after all."
Regulus, seated beside Hermione, remained silent, his hands folded neatly in his lap. He didn’t seem as eager to share his thoughts as Narcissa, but his steady gaze and the way he observed his cousins revealed more about him than words could. He nodded along to Narcissa’s description, clearly familiar with the setting, though his expression was more serious than anyone else’s.
Hermione, however, was absorbing everything with intensity, her mind racing. She had heard snippets of this before, but hearing Narcissa explain it so matter-of-factly made it seem real. Hogwarts was becoming more of a reality, and with it, the idea of belonging—or not belonging—to one of its houses.
"The tapestries in the common room are all of serpents, of course," Narcissa went on, her voice becoming a little softer, as if she were remembering the room fondly. "There’s a large portrait of a serpent above the mantel, and the room’s full of shadows. It’s always a bit cold down there, but the fire helps with that."
Sirius stretched dramatically, his eyes half-lidded in feigned boredom. "Sounds absolutely dreadful," he muttered, the edges of his grin barely visible as he stifled a yawn. "A bunch of green lamps and serpents. Not exactly my idea of a fun hangout."
Narcissa raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You’ll have to get used to it. It’s Slytherin, not Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. And you’ll need to be careful, Sirius." Her voice grew more serious, and she leaned forward, locking eyes with her cousin. "Your parents won’t be pleased if you end up anywhere else. You know how much they care about bloodlines. And Grandpa Arcturus... well, he’ll make sure you understand the consequences if you don’t make it into Slytherin."
Hermione’s stomach tightened at the mention of Arcturus Black III. The Black family’s reputation had always loomed over them like a heavy cloud, and it wasn’t lost on her how much the expectations weighed on everyone—especially Sirius.
Narcissa’s gaze moved between them all, her tone now taking on an edge of warning. "If you end up in another house, things could become... complicated. The contracts with the Slytherin families are more than just ceremonial. If you’re not in Slytherin, you could jeopardize your place in the family. You could damage your standing in a way that’s hard to repair."
Sirius snorted, rolling his eyes. "Oh, come on. You’re telling me I’m supposed to marry some girl just because she’s a pureblood? Or just because their Hogwarts House is not green themed?" he scoffed, a mocking tone in his voice. "Maybe I won’t marry anyone at all. Who needs a contract to be happy?"
Hermione felt a sudden coldness in the pit of her stomach as his words hung in the air. Was it really that simple for him? To reject everything that had been ingrained in them from birth? The thought of their family’s future, their bloodline’s legacy, suddenly felt more fragile than ever. She glanced at Regulus, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but his expression remained unchanged—serious, calculating. Maybe sad.
Regulus finally spoke, his voice low and firm. "You might not care now, Sirius," he said, his gaze steady and unwavering. "But things won’t be that easy. You’ll see."
Sirius shrugged, unfazed by his brother’s words, but Hermione could feel the tension in the room. There was more at stake than just their house placements. There were legacies, expectations, and marriage contracts they couldn’t avoid—no matter how much they might want to.
The conversation turned quiet for a moment, the weight of it all sinking in. Outside, the pond rippled gently under the moonlight, the quiet only broken by the occasional crackle from the fire. Despite the joking and the laughter that had filled the room earlier, it was clear that something had shifted. Tomorrow, they would all leave for Hogwarts, and with that departure came the undeniable truth that things would never be quite the same.
As the conversation shifted back to Hogwarts, Narcissa began to recount more of her experiences, but Hermione’s mind wandered, piecing together the details she had heard over the years. She wasn’t yet certain of her exact place at Hogwarts, but that didn’t stop her from taking a keen interest in everything surrounding it. As the topic of common rooms floated around, Hermione found herself unexpectedly contributing to the conversation.
"I’ve heard Gryffindor’s common room is pretty impressive," she said casually, before realizing just how much she had already been able to picture it in her mind. "It’s at the top of Gryffindor Tower, right? You need a password to get in, just like in Slytherin, but it’s different. There’s a large portrait of the Fat Lady at the entrance, and she’s quite particular about who she lets in." She paused, considering the details she knew. "I’ve heard the common room itself is full of cozy armchairs, and there’s a massive fireplace where everyone sits and talks, especially when it’s chilly outside. I think it has a high, slanted ceiling, with tapestries hanging everywhere." She smirked. "Oh, and there’s a pretty big window that looks out across the grounds."
She realized a bit too late that she had been speaking with more authority than she should have, and the room grew silent for a moment as her cousins all turned their eyes toward her. Even Sirius, who usually wouldn’t let an opportunity slip to tease her, seemed particularly interested, his brow furrowing with curiosity.
"Wait a minute," Sirius said slowly, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You know all that about Gryffindor’s common room? How?"
The question hung in the air, and everyone turned to look at Hermione. Her stomach did a small flip as she suddenly realized how off her words must have sounded. She had given far too much detail—details that weren’t exactly something she would’ve learned by hearing from someone else.
"I, um..." Hermione faltered for a moment, looking for a quick way to explain without causing suspicion. Then, her mind landed on the perfect excuse. She chuckled nervously, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I must have read it in Hogwarts: A History," she said breezily, giving a shrug that she hoped seemed nonchalant enough.
Her tone was light, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, but her cousins were unconvinced.
"Right, Hogwarts: A History?" Narcissa echoed with a raised eyebrow, a skeptical look crossing her face. "That book doesn’t exactly describe the common rooms in such detail."
Hermione’s cheeks flushed slightly. "Oh, well, it... um, it was a special edition. You know how it is—there are all kinds of details tucked away in the margins if you read carefully." She gave a quick, overly enthusiastic laugh, trying to deflect attention. "I just have a great memory for these things."
But despite her attempt to brush it off, the room’s atmosphere had shifted. Narcissa exchanged a glance with Bellatrix, who raised an eyebrow as well. Regulus, usually more reserved, looked at Hermione with an expression that seemed to suggest he was weighing something.
Sirius, however, didn’t let it go. He leaned forward, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "A special edition of Hogwarts: A History, huh? I think I’d like to see that one. Maybe it tells me what my common room looks like too," he said, clearly amused by the situation, but still not convinced by Hermione’s excuse.
Hermione laughed, though it sounded a little more forced now. "You know how it is," she said again, a little too quickly. "Some things just stick with you." She shot him a quick smile, hoping to sidestep any more probing.
But the skepticism lingered in the air, especially from Regulus, who was still eyeing her with a calculating expression. He was too quiet, too observant for her liking, and Hermione could feel his gaze piercing through her with something like suspicion.
The conversation shifted again soon after, as Narcissa casually steered it toward more general Hogwarts topics, but the moment wasn’t lost on anyone. Hermione tried to appear unaffected, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that, for a brief moment, they had all sensed something was off. As Sirius turned his attention back to the others, still half-smiling and clearly more interested in getting a rise out of her than anything else, Hermione couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. She hadn’t exactly lied, but she had definitely danced around the truth in a way that felt wrong.
The night was growing late, and Alphard’s manor, for all its grandeur, was beginning to feel quieter, settling into the stillness of the late hour. The fire in the grand hearth crackled softly, casting flickering shadows against the walls. One by one, the cousins began to stretch, yawn, and glance toward the grand staircase leading to their rooms for the night.
Narcissa stood first, smoothing out her nightgown with a graceful motion. "It’s late. We should all get some rest—tomorrow will be a long day," she said, her tone softer now, less authoritative than before. "Sleep well, everyone."
Regulus, who had barely spoken since Hermione’s odd remark about the Gryffindor common room, gave a small nod and quietly excused himself, heading upstairs without another word.
Bellatrix barely acknowledged them as she sauntered off, muttering something under her breath about first-years being a bother. Meanwhile, Andromeda gave Narcissa a warm kiss on the cheek, her hands resting on her sister's shoulders. "Goodnight, Cissy," she murmured in a soft, loving voice, filled with the silent affection only a sister could offer. "Sleep well."
Narcissa looked up at her with wide, pale eyes, something unreadable flickering within them. She gave a small nod, her fingers curling in the fabric of her dress. “Goodnight, Dromeda,” she whispered back, almost reluctant to let the moment pass.
Straightening, Andromeda turned to her younger cousins, offering Sirius a playful ruffle of his hair before he could swat her away, and a more restrained, polite nod to Hermione. “Goodnight, little ones. Try not to get into too much trouble,” she teased lightly, though the glint in Sirius’ eyes told her that was already a lost cause.
Sirius, never one to go to bed quietly, stretched his arms above his head with a dramatic groan. "Yeah, yeah, off to bed before we all become sleep-deprived zombies at the station," he said, flashing a lopsided grin. "Don’t worry, Cissy, I’ll make sure to dream about all the glorious green lamps in our common room."
Narcissa rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression as she turned away. "You should stop sneaking around in the Muggle World, you're even starting to use their terms".
Before she could linger, Bellatrix’s voice cut through the moment, sharp as a blade. “Andromeda.”
With a small sigh, Andromeda turned, her expression shifting into something more guarded as she met her elder sister’s piercing gaze. Bellatrix was already at the door, her arms crossed, her dark eyes unreadable in the dim candlelight.
With one last glance at Narcissa, Andromeda stepped away, following Bellatrix into the night.
That left Hermione standing near the fireplace, watching the last embers glow dimly. Tomorrow, she would be leaving for Hogwarts. Her heart fluttered at the thought—excitement, nerves, anticipation, and something else she couldn’t quite place.
She turned toward the door and found Aimi already waiting for her, the tiny house-elf standing near the staircase, her large eyes shining up at Hermione with a mix of pride and sadness.
"Miss Ara," Aimi said softly, wringing her hands together. "Aimi is so happy... but Aimi will miss you."
Hermione’s throat tightened, warmth spreading through her chest. Aimi had been the only real mother figure she’d ever known—the one who had cared for her when Alphard had been too distant, the one who had sung to her, comforted her, and treated her with the kind of love that few in the Black family ever showed.
She stepped closer and knelt so that she was at Aimi’s level, reaching out to squeeze the house-elf’s tiny hands in her own. "I’ll miss you very much too, Aimi," Hermione whispered, giving her a small, sad smile. "But I’ll write to you, I promise."
Aimi’s ears twitched, and her eyes filled with tears, though she quickly blinked them away. "Missy Hermione is so kind," she murmured.
Hermione gave her hands one last squeeze before standing up. With one last glance around the dimly lit manor—the place she had called home for so long—she took a deep breath and headed upstairs.
Tomorrow, everything would change.