Clearest Cut
Gentle Reader, today marks a momentous occasion amongst hundreds in The Ton. Starting at ten o’clock, on the dot, this season’s debutantes shall be presented by their mamas to The King Consort, His Majesty, Albus Dumbledor. However, this author has heard through the most reliable of sources that he will be joined on the dias by none other than The Crowned Prince, His Royal Highness, Tom Riddle. This author cannot help but wonder how the slew of young ladies shall handle the unexpected company, and which of the royals they be vying to impress. Such an elaborate affair already, such change only adds more obstacles into the already dangerous world of society.
Does it not make one wonder? It has only been six and twenty years since the very foundation of the social season changed when The King, His Majesty, Gellert Grindelwald, took The King Consort as his husband, opening the floor to Gentlemen to marry other Gentlemen and Ladies to marry other Ladies. Like an exotic flower that has just taken root after years of meticulous care. However, because of this new way’s lack of precedence, many of the older families cling to the traditional ways for their children entering society. Those newfound roots may very well drown in the onslaught of debate as this year will be one of the first where courtiers know no other way. This author has even speculated on many an occasion that even Prince Riddle likes to count himself amongst these older families, both in status and belief. So, again this begs the question, to whom shall these young ladies be bowing, and how will their answer effect their prospects for the season to come?
This author feels that she already knows the answer to these questions for one lady in particular. For this is the season in which the youngest child of The Noble House of Black starts hunting for her match. The Viscountess, Lady Walburga Black, has made her and her daughter’s allegiance quite clear to this author and many of her readers. In fact, whispers say that The Viscountess has already filled her daughter’s dance cards through the end of the season with eligible bachelors from only the most influential and traditional of families. For while most of us take a leisurely stroll through the gardens of love and pick flowers at our own pace, Miss Black is sure to be hunting for her match like a stray mutt with a bone.
The House of Black truly does hold sway in our society here in The Ton, so however the young Lady Black decides to act today, and the rest of the season, will surely leave ripples for her peers to follow.
OoO
Regina did little more than press a gloved hand to her lips in an attempt to suppress the amused noise that escaped her. The Seer has never shied away from tantalizing stories, but to open the season with such bold claims is still quite notable. Perhaps they’ve found themselves a more bold author. While Regina’s mother has never kept her beliefs to herself, the older woman is not going to like seeing it spelled out on paper for all to see. Being publicly called a mutt wasn’t necessarily to Regina’s own taste, but she couldn’t deny the entertainment value of it all.
For instance, the shear ridiculousness of expecting Walburga to have Regina’s card filled through the season. She’s sure to be planning on her being married before a month is up, so no need for an entire season of dancing. She could hear her mother’s words now, going on about the ideocracy of having to eat so many cakes out of politeness. No, Walburga would have this season tied up and Regina married as soon as respectable.
At first, the thought of a swift season made Regina sigh with relief, leaving this wretched house and finding herself with a brand-new life, then she remembered that her mother would be the one picking her match in that circumstance. Regina’s house would become an extension of Walburga’s house, it would all be the same but with a fresh coat of paint. With that, all semblance of amusement in Regina was gone.
The thought of never leaving London caused her to start balling her fist into her formal presentation gown. Perhaps something could happen, and Walburga’s attention would stray. Maybe some miracle could occur, and Regina would be allowed a say.
Doubt coursed through her. Regina wasn’t even allowed a say in the gown she was wearing today, on any other day she would have been allowed to pick, but no, today was going to be in the public eye. More than just the public eye, the royal eye. Walburga had the only say for anything that would draw attention to the family, so Walburga would have the only say in Regina’s clothing, marriage, and life.
“REGINA!”
At the sound of her mother’s voice, her hands flew into motion. The one holding the latest issue of The Seer crumbled the paper into a tight ball while the other desperately tried to smooth any wrinkles forming in the dress. This fabric was the bane of her existence and had already been giving her problems, Regina cursed herself for messing with the way it had finally fallen flat.
With a deep breath, Regina placed the paper onto a nearby end table. Another breath and she reminded herself to pick it up later so that Walburga wouldn’t find it. The final breath was marked with the sound of her footfalls as she began to approach where her mother’s voice had come from, her perfected polite and pleasant expression sliding into place.
As Regina walked away from her dark spot on the wall, she spoke softly, “I’m here, Mother. Just before 9, right on time.”
“Yes, well, 9 may be right on time in any other household, but best not forget, in this house on time is scandalously late.” Regina had noticed over the years that her mother very rarely spoke, rather she simply spat her opinions in the face of all those unlucky enough to be in her presence. It used to be The Viscount she would spit at most often, but since her husband’s passing Walburga’s terrible rain falls most often on her daughter. Regina, who had the privilege of being said daughter, received many of those opinions accompanied by an agonizing rake of her mother’s eyes across her appearance in order to form even more opinions. One drag of her mother’s eyes set Regina’s spine impossibly straight, having school herself years ago to resistance the instinct to squirm. Ladies never squirm.
“You ate this morning?” Walburga said as her eyes met Regina’s once again.
“No ma’am.”
“Then you must have eaten too much at diner last night,” the older woman stated, picking at nonexistent fuzz on Regina’s shoulder and eyeing the way Regina hadn’t managed to school the fabric correctly. “I’ll be sure to tell Mister Kreature to adjust your diet so that you don’t have such visible weight.” With that, the lady of the house turned with an air of finality and began working her way down the foyer. Despite what would’ve been a clear dismissal by anyone else, Regina knew better than to not answer, “yes ma’am,” and follow her mother.
As they made it to the other end of the entryway, every bell of every clock in the house began to chime the ninth hour. And, like magic, the front doors to The Noble House of Black swung open on the ninth toll, taking Regina’s breath away. No matter how many times she watched those front doors open for her mother, her late father, even her brother, they had never opened for her, and Regina was determined to enjoy every second of it.
The smell of the sun and crisp leaves fills the air. She can actually hear the carriages as they roll past. There were massive pots of purple flowers on either side of the door that couldn’t be seen through any of the windows in the house. Small buds were forming deep in the basin and Regina almost smiled.
No matter how many times she snuck out from the servants’ doors and went riding with Kreature, the neglected back allies of London were nothing in comparison to the well-kept streets of The Ton.
Wanting nothing more than to stand there and take even more in, Regina hesitated, but alas, Lady Black has other plans of actually being on time to the season’s presentation.
The older woman climbed into the waiting carriage and did not even need to turn and look to know that her daughter had stopped just outside the front door to bask in the newfound sunlight. “Do not doodle, Regina, you’ll freckle.”
With that, Regina climbs in after her mother and the pair are off.
OoO
“Now dear, you must remember to smile. Gental lips. No teeth. Eye contact. Today starts your time in the spotlight. From her on, you no longer just represent yourself, but this entire house.”
The carriage is moving, but all the windows were closed, and the air was stifling.
“Of course, Mother, I won't let you down.”
“Good, you remember what happened when that older brother of yours makes a fool of this family. And you remember that you do not have the virtue of being a man to fall upon.”
Never a man.
“I remember, Mother.”
She always remembers.
“Good. Now we just have to pray that disappointment does not show up to ruin such a momentous occasion.”
OoO
When the carriage finally stops, only one face is clear in the sea of people entering the palace. Regina never thought that the simple act of speaking something will bring it into existence, but that face makes her reconsider. Outside her door, smiling like a fool, is none other than her older brother, Sirius Black.
The older of the two siblings opens the door for his sister to climb out. Regina doesn’t accept his hand to help her down, thinking that even using a door her brother has opened might bring down Walburga’s wrath, properly acknowledging him would just be too great a risk.
Her heart is beating frantically, and her eyes start to betray her. Stealing glances of her brother, jaw straining to keep her lips sealed tight. She hasn’t seen or heard from him in nearly a year, seeing as Sirius studies in some fancy school up north that their mother would never allow Regina to attend. Regina wants nothing more than to learn all about his time away, nothing more than to have her big brother back.
On the other hand, Sirius had finished his studies in the spring, so he could have come home any time he wished. Regina was not going to dwell on the feelings of a brother who has deliberately avoided her, staying with the family of one of his schoolmates rather than helping her prepare for the season. He hadn’t even sent a letter with an explanation. He was usually so careful about sending her letters.
If he wanted to show up on her big day and have delusional expectations of a grand reuniting, that was hardly Regina’s problem, so she walked on into the crowd. Hopefully, this would set Sirius off, setting of Walburga in turn and they would argue themselves into oblivion. Leaving Regina to do as she pleases with her season.
Yes, that would do nicely, the start of a smile creeped onto Regina’s lips as she pushed forward.
The doors that she approached were simpler than she had envisioned, a light stained wood with minimal carvings. Notably, the only real design was the crest of Grindelwald himself, a simple line within a circle within a triangle. Everyone who was anyone called the symbol The Hollows, but Lady Black had always preferred to teach her children the more traditional ways, so Regina had always thought of it as The Deathly Hollows.
Memories of long hours spent in the library with no one but Sirius and stacks of books to keep her company came to Regina. It was never fun but being together made it tolerable to study for the little tests their mother would throw across the dinner table. Regina finding the right information in the books and Sirius coming up with little rhymes and games to help them remember.
It wasn’t necessarily a happier time, but it was simpler. Despite her mind’s protests, Regina’s heart longs for her brother to help her prepare for this new test. The test of the season, the test of grand halls and grand people.
Regina’s mother and brother trailed behind her as she walked into the grand hallway that was surely small in comparison to the rest of the palace. There were so many young ladies that it was not difficult to find where they needed to wait to be called upon. Everything was so ornate, simple whites and creams beaded within an inch of their life, blending into the meticulously carved walls. Gold lined mirrors and creakless floorboards. A number of missed-matched furniture lined either side of the walls, clearly moved in to accommodate long wait times.
Lady Black sat in one of these furnishings, indicating that Regina should do the same. At this, Sirius melted into the nearest red-satin sofa and Regina herself perched into a simple green-velvet chair, continuing to ignore her brother’s attempts to get her attention.
At 5 till 10, a servant came in to collect the first debutant. Then, after the clocks chimed the hour, the announcement of Miss Dorcus Meadows could be clearly heard from within the waiting area. Great, so she was going to be able to hear everyone as they were announced, and eventually, everyone was going to be able to hear her. Brilliant.
Long hours ticked by with young lady after young lady going through those dreaded doors to never be seen as truly young again. They were nothing more than potential wives after they stepped through that archway. The King’s marriage came with the promise of freedom from previous conventions, well, the ones based on gender and class at least, but this freedom did not extend to those who never wish to marry at all.
If Regina had her way, she would never marry, the blood of The Noble House of Black would die with her since Sirius had made it clear he never wanted children from a very young age. However, because her mother was persistent and no gentlemen of sane mind would not jump at the opportunity to take the Black name, she would no doubtably end up with a ring on her finger. A long time ago, Regina decided that the best she could hope for was for a man that would whisk her away from the dreaded Ton in exchange for the only thing she could offer. The very same Black family name she dreaded.
Regina was thinking of the kind of man she wouldn’t mind marrying when her name was finally called, hoping, dreaming of all the far-off places she would go while standing by his side. Ideally, he wouldn’t have to be there, but Regina has learned to manage her expectations. Head full of those lovely little ideas, Regina stood and found her way into a secondary holding area without a chair in sight.
Next through the door came Walburga, who quickly turned on her heal to acknowledge her eldest child for the first time. “That is far enough,” then, the woman who has not touched a door with her own hands since infancy, closed the door behind herself before Sirius could even consider stepping through. She turned back to her daughter and simply said, “that is plenty enough distractions for one day.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Oh, how Regina wished she could have at least shared a glance with her brother before he was suddenly taken away again. She could really use a distraction from her aching stomach.
Silence quickly settled into the room after that, and Regina could hear the previous lady’s presentation. The exchange was simple enough, though that fact was strange considering that it belonged to the woman that the Pettigrew’s across the street had taken in for the season. Regina has yet to speak with this Pandora woman herself, but rumors of strange behavior do tend to travel fast amongst servants. When her only true connections to the outside are servants and gossip columns, such rumors commonly fill Regina’s head.
Regina found it odd, but there were no audible deviations to etiquette until just after the lady was dismissed. It was then that a sort of whimsical voice spoke up, “I do quite like your socks,” abnormal pause, “Your Majesty.”
She’s complemented Dumbledor’s socks. That simple piece of information made every questionable rumor Regina had learned about Miss Pandora fit perfectly into one unconventional puzzle. The old man was sure to love it. And Regina didn’t even have to look at her mother to feel the frown radiating off of her face.
All that Regina could do was ignore it, straighten her gown, and lift her chin as the doors in front of her swung open and her name was announced.
“Miss Regina Black, presented by her mother, The Viscountess, Lady Walburga Black.”
Subtle piano music began to play as Regina made eye contact with the two men on the other end of the large hall. There was the older one, long, white beard curled and tickling his lap, bright red stocking adorned his feet. He must be Albus Dumbledor. Even if his socks weren’t recognizable, the younger of the pair was clearly Tom Riddle. Jet black hair, sharp features, a long face to match his towering height. Despite the fact that they were sat down it was hard not to see how much taller Riddle was than his older counterpart.
His dark clean-cut garments stood in stark contrast to Regina’s own long cream gown that trailed behind her with every step. A small smile settled onto his face, and she was careful to mirror it as her focus turned to Dumbledor and she stopped before them.
Deep breath in, just as practiced. Exhale and dip into a small curtsy. Staying bent, memorizing the swirling pattern in the rug.
So focused on standing still, Regina never heard Riddle stand and approach, he was just suddenly there, lifting her chin. As he opened his mouth to speak, Dumbledor made him presence known.
“Truly a diamond of the clearest cut.”