5
Breakfast was Castor's favourite meal of the day at Hogwarts, and this breakfast was no different. On the morning of 24th, a week before Halloween, which coincidentally would also be her sixteenth birthday, Castor had received three owls at her table. One from the Malfoys, another from her house elves and the last was from the Daily Prophet, wanting to interview her.
"What did father give you?", Draco was perched on the table beside her, sucking on a sugar quill. Her sugar quill.
"Manners, Draco"
"What did you get?", he persisted.
Castor threw the letter at him so he could see for himself.
Dear Castor,
You are now to be old enough to take on certain family matters, including Ministry affairs. Lucius has kindly offered to introduce you to the Ministry of Magic during the summer. You must take great pride in this. As you are now sixteen, we have decided to give you full control of all financial affairs in the Black name. I have organised a meeting at Gringotts for you next weekend, you will travel by Floo network. Ask Professor Snape for the details.
You must not interfere with any ongoing financial affairs which you do not understand. This includes all unknown and political recipients. You will understand more once you are of age.
Another matter I wish to discuss, is Christmas break. As you must know, Cornelius Fudge has invited the family to his annual end of year dinner. The invite has been stretched to include you, but I advise against this. With Sirius Black still not found, your attendance will not only attract interrogations, but will likely encourage unwanted 'gossip' surrounding our family. Stay at Hogwarts, study for your OWL's, and do not attempt to travel to Black Manor. It is being monitored by Aurors.
I will meet you at Gringotts soon.
N. Malfoy.
Draco had stayed silent after he read the letter. He understood what it meant; not completely, but enough to know that his cousin was soon to be in full control of his mother's house. Draco had often envisioned himself as the Head of both the Malfoy's and the Black's. Reigning over two of the most powerful wizarding families would keep the bloodline strong and alive. This letter was a kick to the gut for Draco. He was no longer seen as the rightful heir of the Black's. His mother chose Castor to be Head. And his father seemed to believe so too. Draco didn't seem to understand why they had changed their minds so quickly, and not even tell him.
"What will you do for Christmas?", he muttered, still staring at the words in front of him.
"As your mother says.", Castor continued to eat, glancing up now and then so catch the odd student staring at her.
"The Ministry still thinks you're helping Black?"
"The Ministry have lost themselves, Draco. They won't find him, not unless he wants to be found.", no truer words had left Castor's mouth.
"Father thinks otherwise."
"Last time I checked, your father wasn't an Auror, Draco.", Castor spat.
"Last time I checked, you weren't a bloodtraitor."
Castor leapt out of her seat at his words and grabbed Draco's neat robe collar. After pulling him off his own seat on the table, Castor had twisted her grip and pulled Draco into her shoulder tight. Any onlooker would only assume they were greeting each other, it was Castor's birthday, perhaps they thought it was a kind greeting. Not a warning, nor threat.
"If you ever say that word to me again, Draco, I swear I will boil the blood inside your veins.", her father taught her that one. Castor held her face completely toneless, making sure to pronounce every single syllable as clear as possible so he could not not hear her.
"It would be a pity if the Malfoy heir ceased to exi-"
"Black, 10 points from Slytherin. For threatening a student. ", Castor didn't dare argue back with McGonagall.
** ** **
The day seemed to go by slowly. Castor almost felt that every hourly chime of the bells were taunting her. She was stuck in lessons all day, usually she would skive off for the day; explore the grounds, read, visit Black Manor on some occasions. But not this year. This year she was being watched by everyone. Every minute late to lessons that week had resulted in Castor being given detention. Every late assignment resulted in another detention. Every detention resulted in Castor's hand aching from writing 'I will not arrive late to lessons', 'I will not hand up incomplete or late homework'.
Sirius Black was getting closer to Hogwarts each day, some reports even saying he was spotted in Hogsmeade. It worried Castor. Ever since she overheard Dumbledore and McGonagall speaking, she couldn't help but worry. Was he going to kill her too? She was the only hurdle in his way of being head of house Black. Was this even something that he wanted? Surely, not. If it was, why would he have left it in the first place? A spy for the Dark Lord. A traitor, true and true. He had given up James and Li-
"Good riddance", her grandmother had spat. Good riddance. And that was the last time they spoke of the matter.
Castor had to stop worrying about her uncle's motives. She would be ready when the time comes.
"Who can tell me what the Unforgivable Curses are? Any ideas?", Lockhart had only touched on it last year, but Professor Lupin felt it was important to go over it more thoroughly.
"There's three of them, sir", a Slytherin spoke out. One Castor knows for certain is a halfbreed.
"Very good. Ten points to Slytherin", Lupin's reward was followed by some cheers, without Castor's participation. She would not be seen cheering for a halfbreed.
"And what are these three Unforgivable Curses?", Lupin prompted, only silence had followed.
"Miss Black? Any ideas?", she had been caught staring out the window again. 'Oh yes, sir. Many ideas. I've seen them all, and felt all but one.'
"I'm afraid not, sir."
"Hmm.", it was obvious that he didn't believe her. "Not to worry. Anyone else?"
"The Imperius curse"
"Yes, excellent Weasley. The Imperius curse forces its victim to do exactly as the caster says.", Lupin discussed. "Why would this be a problem?"
"You control the victim, sir. They do whatever you tell them to do.", a Gryffindor spoke up.
"Yes, well done. Now this was used quite often during the first war-", Castor was zoning out again. She knew all about Imperio. How to cast it, how to control it. How to fight it. It was the same with Crucio. No Black childhood would be complete without encountering those two spells at least a handful of times. The Killing Curse was the only exemption. Avada kedavra was a curse Castor had witnessed twice. Once by her grandmother when an old House elf had trip over a floor board. Her grandmother had gotten so angry with the House elf, pulled out her wand and- wrong time, wrong place, was what Castor told herself. Walburga Black had cast it so quick and effortlessly, something that shocked Castor. Not 30 seconds beforehand, that House elf had been alive, and 30 seconds later it was laying on the floor like a stone statue in the Ministry of Magic headquarters. Castor hadn't known or interacted with the House elf at all, but the tears still fresh in its glazed over stare etched themselves into her mind. The second time-
"Miss Black, the last of the curses? We have had the Imperius curse and the Killing curse. Can you give us the last?", Lupin wanted quick-fire answers now.
"The Cruciatus curse."
"The Cruciatus curse, yes. Can you explain it?"
"It will inflict the most tremendous pain onto its victims."
"Yes, 5 points to Slytherin.", Professor Lupin handed Castor her already filled out time sheet. "I'd like a quick word after class with you.", he spoke quietly.
"Ending on a good note, I have a little surprise for next week's class. Oh, and make sure to hand up those essays by the end of next week please", Lupin spoke as everyone left.
Castor took her time clearing away her textbook and quill before making her way to Professor Lupin's desk. She sat down once beckoned to, waiting for the professor to finish tidying up.
"Tea, Castor?"
"No. Thank you, Professor.", what did he want?
She stayed silent as he poured himself a cup and pulled out some chocolate.
"Chocolate?", he offered. Castor shook her head at him. "It's a great remedy for shock."
"That it is, sir.", Castor didn't know why he couldn't just spit out what he wanted to say to her.
"Ah, you're familiar?"
"Only slightly, sir. It is often used after Boggart encounters."
"Oh, you've encountered a Boggart? There mus-" he stopped himself saying any further. For all Lupin knew, Castor could've hated the place just as Sirius had.
"Just a few, sir. Nothing extravagant. ", she really did wish he would stop prying.
"Is there a reason you wanted to speak with me, sir?"
"Yes.", Lupin began rooting through the draw underneath his desk now. "Your last essay, on.. ah! Here it is. "
Castor was handed back her paper on 'Counter-spells' with an E on the top of page.
"Exceeds expectations.", Castor frowned.
"Indeed. Brilliant essay, Castor. Only you wrote about how Occlumency counteracts Legillimency. Even though it is true, I could not accept it as a 'counter-spell'. Occlumency is skill to be learned, not a spell cast.", Lupin's voice had gotten more stern by the end of the sentence.
"And .. it is not taught at Hogwarts, Castor. Not even at NEWT level."
Castor nodded along, skimming her eyes over his corrections and thoughts.
"Some examples you used were quite dark too, many sh-"
Castor was still ignore most of his words, she was annoyed by his docking of marks because she used a counter spell he did not know of.
"Miss Black-", Professor Lupin raised his voice loudly. He knew she wasn't listening to him, and he knew she didn't care what he had to say. But he could not accept the use of dark spells in his lessons.
"-Miss Black. If I see another dark spell being used, be that a jinx, curse or charm, as an example in another one of your essays, you will be failed. "
"What?", that had gotten her attention.
"It is unacceptable. I will not allow you to attend my lessons if you continue to speak of such dark magic with such ease."
Castor was disgusted. Never in her life would she have thought Professor Lupin would pick her out of the crowd and analyze every tiny detail she writes in her essays. Although, she wasn't sure why she was surprised. He had been best friends with her uncle, the man who left his home. A home she had too been raised in. Professor Lupin was friends with mudbloods and halfbreeds, of course he would have a problem with the type of curses and hexes she used as examples.
"I will be reporting this to your head of house. I'm disappointed, Castor. ", that had annoyed her the most.
"Why? You do know my family, sir, right? The Ancient and Noble house of Black?"
"Who your family are does not give you free rein to continue following such horrible beliefs".
Castor kept her mouth firmly shut. This would not have a good outcome if she was to argue back. Nor would it improve her essay grade.
"You're dismissed, Miss Black.", he sighed.
Castor had got out of the chair and walked straight out the door without shutting it. She didn't fancy eating right now, so she made her way back to the dungeons.
** ** **
It was well past dinner by the time Castor awoke. She had fallen asleep writing her transfiguration essay. Dark clouds had formed outside and the dungeons felt colder as Castor made her through them. The House elves always kept spare food in the kitchens for those who got hungry after dinner, or who missed dinner completely. So that was where she was heading.
Getting passed Snape's office was easy, he usually didn't care much for walkabout Slytherin's in the evenings, as long as you were quiet.
The portraits of long forgotten wizards were dozing softly around her. You could just about see the moonlight coming through the windows further down the hallways. Castor felt so much comfort in the silence. Memories of running through Black Manor as a child and eating pastries and cookies by the fire in Grimmauld Place flooded through her mind.
Only a handful of house elves were working in the kitchens when Castor appeared. She found a seat at a counter to eat some leftovers and read through her homework.
"Miss Black", a squeaky voice spoke behind her. Castor turned to see a house elf gold Ng a piece of parchment out for her to take.
Death Notice
The untimely death has been reported of Regulus Black, Heir to the House of Black and son to Lord Orion Black and his wife Lady Walburga Black. The family had previously reported the disappearance of their son ten days ago. He has now been presumed dead after fleeing from HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED and abandoning all family beliefs and loyalties. Regulus Black and the Black family have been supporters of HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED and his Death eaters. Many claim that Regulus Black joined as a Death eater and cowardly abandoned his loyalties once asked for more. We wish the Black family our condolences and welcome the promise of another Heir in the near future.
Castor read the newspaper slip carefully. There was no indication as to which paper it had been torn from, but the one thing Castor understood from this was that, whoever wrote it fully believed her father to be traitor. Castor wasn't stupid, she heard the rumours and whispers. Of course her father was a Death eater. But he was no coward.
"Who gave you this?", she asked the house elf.
"A strange man wanted you to have it, Miss. He wore a cloak, I could not see his face".
Just as Castor rose to leave, the house elf spoke once more.
"Happy Birthday, Miss". It was midnight. Castor was officially 16.
She made her way across the corridors, heading back towards the dormitories. Castor found herself wandering towards the common room instead, and heading up the staircase towards the north east tower overlooking the lake. A place where Castor could breathe and slow down her thoughts for a moment.
Death Notice
The untimely death has been reported of Regulus Black, Heir to the House of Black and son to Lord Orion Black and his wife Lady Walburga Black. The family had...
Castor didn't understand why someone would want this delivered to her inconspicuously. Why did they hide? Why give it to a house elf and not send it with an owl? Did they know she had missed dinner?
Castor's thoughts circled around her. The newspaper clipping was old and wrinkled, meaning someone had kept it with them for a long time and read it often. Some ink was smudged around the corners, obvious raindrop marks were dried into it.
Castor turned it over, still looking for an indication as to which newspaper this was. All she found was a tiny mouse sketched into a column.