Project: Where Art Thou Romeo

Let it be known, Polaris was fond of her parents. 

They’ve brought her into this life (unknowingly for the second time), dressed her in the finest, fed her the best foods, taught her with the best education possible. They were practical people, for the most part- for their station at least. Not exactly normal, of course, though what magical parent was? Hell, even amongst magical, she was certain most conversations between parents and children weren’t constantly about lessons, gossip, etiquette, gossip, family magicks, gossip, disciplines, gossip, or Judgment on a near daily basis. Hers were. 

With her parents being the next heads of House of Black, they did their absolute best to drill everything that was Pureblood Culture under the sky into their children's heads because their children would be perfect (despite a few screws loose here and there). Walburga and Orion could manipulate social circles in the most roundabout ways, but when it came to their children, they were always direct and to the point with their lessons and expectations. It was a trait that Polaris typically appreciated. And sorely missed.

Why sorely missed?

Because her parents did not mention courtship whatsoever since she first found out from Cissy.

And it was giving her indigestion.

She winced, flinching in the middle of brushing her hair when she heard her stomach gurgling quietly in hunger and swirling dread, nearly upsetting the little strew she managed to eat earlier at dinner much to Kreacher’s worry and self-criticism. 

(Oh the horror when his Mistress Polaris couldn’t eat the first few days it happened, Kreacher had come to her in her project room and threw himself at her feet and offered his head.

And then she dropped to her knees trying to placate Kreacher but he started bashing his head for forcing his Mistress on her knees to console him which then she forbid him from bashing his head and spent the next hour trying to explain she had stomach pains, which he took to extreme criticism that he made something that upset her stomach and tried to crush himself with a ream of mooncow fabric before she just admitted that there was something upsetting her into not eating and he still took it to heart that he couldn’t make something to soothe her dread - it was a very long afternoon.)

Now he watched her with beady eyes at all mealtimes and in an effort to keep him content (read: alive), she tried to eat but being in the same room as her parents as they ate, unknowingly (or maybe knowingly) with the proverbial ax by their hands to be used at any time was very difficult. Every time they opened their mouths to speak, she worried they would drop the news on her head, but their conversations were typical topics, majorly led by her mother. 

Walburga had much gossip to share which always turned their conversations into strategic planning. Gossip always made changes to social circles and Walburga would be damned if she let her children go around clueless and caught off guard. Normally, this would have been fun, Walburga did have such a way with story-telling and planning, it didn’t change the fact that Polaris was certain there was a rock dropping into her stomach every time her mother looked over at her or her father interjected into Walburga’s stories.

It could happen at any moment, her parents weren’t the type to indicate that they would be having such an important conversation. They probably didn’t even consider courtship to be such an important conversation either. Courtship was so deeply ingrained with Pureblood Culture, it was to be expected, almost like mentioning the weather on a casual Tuesday afternoon.

That was more terrifying than being told that her parents needed to speak with her.

But tomorrow I’ll be out of here, I’ll be back at Hogwarts and I can just have a moment, Polaris leaned her head back tiredly.

Tomorrow was the first of September, the day that every year since 1971, Polaris always looked forward to.

How could she not? Her entire childhood in her first life was spent clinging to the hope that she would be going to Hogwarts, and now that that measly little dream was feasible, Polaris had waited for it eagerly. It did not disappoint when it was finally her turn. Hogwarts had been everything she had dreamed it would be the moment she stepped foot through those doors, in the castle filled with magic. She felt it everywhere and she thrived under it. 

Of course, it was nothing like the familial magicks of Grimmauld Place that would wrap around her like a silky blanket. But the magicks of Hogwarts were very gentle, geared for the developing and budding magic of young witches and wizards.

It was like a breath of fresh air.

That and like a pepto bismol.

She could get away from the proverbial ax hanging over her head and bad indigestion she was getting from all this dread.

She’d really like to be able to eat like a normal human being again (sorry, Kreacher) for one, and be able to wholeheartedly focus on Cissy’s dress. Granted, she was also going to have to search for an appropriate fake boyfriend, something that was already making Sirius a bit unbearable with all his grumbling. That was a headache in itself.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, she mentally chanted, Cissy’s dress, Cissy’s dress, white, some sort of shimmery or shiny fabric, breathable, grand but not heavy. The ceremony train would typically be the heaviest party since it’ll be long but we’ll need something shorter for the reception. I could either make two dresses or I’ll have to make a removable layer. Both are very easy solutions actually…. I kind of like the transformable dress idea more, it can be a grand show when it transforms. Cissy would love making a scene like that-

“Polaris.” A knock on the doorframe of her room startled her, eyes blinking rapidly from where she had been absently brushing her hair at her vanity.

“Oh, father,” her eyes widened when she saw Orion’s reflection in her mirror. He stood at her door with his hands in his pockets, in one of his casual home looks which was still a smart collared shirt and trousers. It still astounded her how little the books mentioned that magic affected physical appearance, Orion was nearing his fifties and he still looked like a thirty-something year old with only a streak of gray in his otherwise pristine black hair betraying age. He and Walburga were a very attractive and striking couple at all the functions they went to; at home, they were a relaxed type of attractive. She could only hope she aged as well as they did.

She turned towards him, moving to stand before he stopped her by merely raising his hand. She hesitated but settled back onto her stool with a hesitant smile despite the dreadful feeling of a rock dropping into her stomach yet again. “Did you need something?”

Orion exhaled, stepping into her room. “Not presently, though after having a conversation with your brother, I should be asking you to mind his behavior while you’re at school.”

She mentally groaned. “I’ll talk to him.” Polaris assured with a nod. Sirius was testy with the topic of her courtship as it was, it just worsened after Walburga took him to task about the prank Auntie Charis asked her about.

“No need.” Orion shook his head once, looking the slightest bit exasperated. “With his rebellious phase, it is better to let it get out of his system in small doses and be inconsequential rather than suppressing it and having dire effects.”

Polaris raised an eyebrow, tilting her head up at him. “Sounds more like experience than observation.”

She considered it a point to her when Orion’s eyes looked at her with a touch of amusement. “Sirius inherited his temper, one I have been familiar with for the past twenty-eight years.”

She grinned.

Orion huffed once, holding out his hand.

Polaris gave him the hair brush, turning back to the vanity eagerly. 

Her father began to brush through her hair, detangling the ends with practiced ease. 

A pleasant surprise in this life was coming to find how hands-on Orion was as a father. He was a stoic man, more patient and reserved, but he made it a point to brush his children’s hair for as long as she could remember and on rare occasions, even brushing Walburga’s hair. 

He always reminded them that there was a superstition amongst Purebloods that well-kept hair meant better control of their magic, which was why everyone from the Noble House of Black put a great deal of focus on hair care and styling. Though it was from Auntie Lucretia that Polaris came to find that Orion had picked up the habit from Grandfather Arcturus. Lords didn’t normally help groom in the household, but Arcturus had done it as affirmation of his appreciation of his family members.

The Noble House of Black was only as strong as the next generations make it to be, and it’s important the Head of House acknowledges that. Lucretia had recited with a red lipped smile, her blue eyes having a far away look to them.

It was a mindset that Orion had clearly adopted himself. 

He didn’t do it as often as he did when Polaris and her brothers were children, but it made her appreciate the moments all the more.

“Fifth year already.” Orion murmured, parting her hair into sections. 

Polaris tried to suppress a smug smile with little success. “A long way from sneaking into the family library for Ancient Runes texts, isn’t it?”

“That indeed.” It was subtle but she heard the tinge of humor to his tone. “After everything said and done, I will be expecting an Outstanding on your Ancient Runes O.W.L..”

As if she ever got anything lower than in the subject. “Hardly a challenge.” 

She smiled when she noticed his lips quirk into a smirk. 

“Hardly,” he repeated approvingly. “And the rest of your O.W.L.’s?”

“Will be nothing but the best,” she answered immediately and firmly, “for a Black never settles for less.”

“Good.” He drawled, summoning one of the many silk scarves she had laid out on the vanity. He began to twine the scarf around a lock of hair he had combed out. When he didn’t say more, Polaris let her eyes close, relishing in the feeling of having her hair brushed out. 

It was only when he began plaiting the silk wrapped locks that he spoke again.

“Your project is in its developmental stages, but when it comes time to procure the materials, you will owl me to do so.” He said with a sense of command and finality. Polaris opened her eyes to peer at him through the mirror. “I will not have you waste your time bartering when you have much to prepare for.”

Polaris felt her stomach swoop with the topic being very open territory. She kept her reaction minimal despite her heartbeat picking up. “Yes, father.”

If he noticed, he did not remark. Instead, he finished off the plait, glancing at her through the vanity mirror. “This year will be busy in preparation for your exams and majority, Polaris, do not disappoint.” 

She felt something drop into her stomach but she merely gave him a charming smile. “Never.”

It was enough to garner a small smile from him in return, one that simultaneously made her panic and calm all the same. He cradled the side of her head to kiss her temple before he stepped away. “Sleep well, little cub.”

“Sleep well, father.”

He left, waving the door shut behind him.

Polaris stared, before sighing and rubbing her face.

In preparation for my exams and majority.

In so little words, he confirmed what she knew.

“Sirius, fix your collar.”

“I don’t want to, mother.”

“Sirius Orion, do it yourself or I will do it for you.”

“I’m fifteen years old, woman-”

“Are you using that tone with me?”

“Are you going to yell in public?”

“Sirius.” Orion intoned, turning from a smirking Regulus to look down his nose at Sirius. 

Polaris had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smirking as Sirius grumbled, he grudgingly did up his collar properly. It left him looking like a disgruntled wet cat and Walburga Black née Black like a cat that ate the canary. 

The Walburga Black née Black that Polaris knew was better tempered than the portrait that she remembered reading about. 

That memory of her was a shrieking banshee filled with hatred, anger, and possibly insanity- a true testament of the Black Madness that everyone talked about. Immortalized to despise, never moving on from that.

Polaris knew a very different Walburga. While a decent mother (strict, involved to a point, and warmer than she possibly was the first time around), as a woman, she was proud and smug nearly all the time, and unnecessarily calculatingly cruel. This Walburga was much more sociable than Orion, though nowhere near as approachable. She entered social circles like a wolf in sheep’s clothing and maneuvered herself with poise and elegance that she’s heard other women envy, gleaning all the information that she could possibly get from anyone and knew exactly how to strike if need be. Frankly, Polaris believed she ran those social circles. Even at family gatherings, where all the family was on equal footing and social masks were brought down, Walburga knew how to get under everyone’s skin should she wish it. Uncle Cygnus being the main victim to her goading mind you. This woman knew exactly how to act and what to say to get exactly what she wanted, no one could ever find a break in her composure when she went for what she wanted.

Unless, of course, that person was Sirius Black who happened to be just like her.

As he grew, the more prominent those characteristics became and their little bickering spats went on longer. They probably could have gone on for hours if Orion hadn’t stepped in. Thankfully.

Once she was satisfied with Sirius’s appearance, Walburga turned to Polaris with an appraising eye, one that Polaris met evenly with a pleasant smile.

Walburga raised her chin, gave her a once over before smiling superiorly and stepping closer to cradle Polaris’s face in her hands. “Have a good term, dearest. Be sure to remember your classes in the midst of your project.”

“Of course, mother,” Polaris reached up to hold Walburga’s hand close to her cheek.

“Father,” Regulus called quietly, enough that only they could hear, “was there anything regarding the Black family in the paper this morning?”

“No, the family is behaving themselves.” Orion stated, reaching into his robes for his pocket watch.

“Hmm.” Regulus tipped his head, slanting his eyes out over the platform. Sirius and Orion followed his line of sight.

“They’re sure staring a lot for nothing.” Sirius drawled, slouching his posture back like a cocky noble son. Polaris and Walburga glanced from the corner of their eyes to see. Now, the Black Family was used to scrutiny and staring, the Black name garnered attention no matter where they went. The fact that several other wizarding families on the platform were indeed staring at them was not surprising, but the sheer amount from parents to their children - or rather, more notably, their children of marriageable age was enough to make Polaris and her brothers pause. Polaris had to fight the urge to keep from swallowing thickly at the realization, lest her mother realize her nerve.

“As sheep tend to do,” Walburga answered easily, turning back to Polaris to press their foreheads together in an affectionate manner. Polaris smiled beatifically once they parted. “Whatever their intentions, you need not concern yourselves.”

“The three of you should board the train regardless,” suggested Orion with a sigh, his hand on Regulus’s shoulder. “Your grandparents are expecting your mother and I shortly.”

“Yes, father.” The three chorused, standing beside one another. 

“Owls, within the week from all of you.” Walburga gave Sirius a pointed look before she brushed her knuckles against each of their cheekbones. “And we expect you back for Yule, no exceptions.”

“Yes, mother.” The three chorused again, each bowing their heads as their parents finally turned away to leave.

Watching their parents disappear into the crowds of people, they could see that some continued to stare at them, others turning their sights to the next Lord and Lady of House of Black. It filled her with dread, knowing the exact reason for their staring.

“As annoying as the gulls at White Cove whenever we have picnics.” Regulus muttered, offering her his arm to help her onto the train which she took gratefully.

Sirius made a noise of understanding. “I knew this felt familiar.”  

“At least these behave better than the gulls do.” 

Polaris snorted. “Because these ones fear our parents, meanwhile we will always live with the reminder that gulls have no fear and will charge right at our mother if she holds so much as a cracker.” Regulus nodded sagely.

“Doesn’t mean they have any better intentions.” Sirius grumbled, tugging at his collar the moment they slipped into the train, undoing two buttons. “That woman wants me to have a bloody heatstroke, I swear.”

“You’re the one who tattooed yourself up to your collarbones,” said Regulus dismissively as they walked through the train.

“To annoy her, did you see how her eye kept twitching every dinner? Worth it.”

“Did you see yours when she buttoned your shirts all the way up?” Polaris drawled, glancing over her shoulder innocently at her twin who pouted at her. 

Regulus snorted. “The consequences of your own actions.”

“‘The consequences of your own actions,’” Sirius mimicked in a ridiculous high pitched voice and lightly shoved Regulus, much to his amusement. “Make sure to tell that to Crouch when I get back at him for bringing in his grandmother.”

“Noted,” Regulus chuckled lowly, seeing a compartment filled with his friends. “See you at school,” he said, squeezing Polaris’s hand before slipping into the compartment as they passed by. She could see Barty Crouch seated inside, speaking to one of their other friends.

Sirius rolled his eyes, throwing an arm over Polaris’s shoulders. “Prat. When did he ever get so sassy?”

“Happens when living with you,” Polaris smirked, glancing over at his shirt. “Want me to make you some shirts with rune threads? I could make them breathable and cooler so at least it’s manageable for whenever mother covers them up.”

Sirius smirked back, albeit softer. “You really are the best. Some pristine formalwear might be nice. Dear ol’ mummy’s probably going to want me to cover up for Cissy’s wedding.”

“Right, the wedding.” Polaris grimaced, Sirius following suit once he remembered what she did. 

“Right, so … can’t exactly put up a tryout form on all the dorm notice boards, now can we?” He asked idly, keeping his posture light as they passed by a couple of other students. 

Their parents would have kittens if there was a tryout form for her.

“Like we agreed, we’ll figure it out once we’re at school. It’ll give us some time to make a list of people of every viable person. Then go through and cross out anyone who-”

“Has no right being with you, fake or real, anyone that’s stupid, anyone that’s greedy, anyone that would make father actually think it’d be better to just betroth you immediately.”

Might as well just cross out the entire list. “By your standards, a really short list then.”

“It’ll save us a ton of time, I promise you.”

Polaris sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Just …let’s just not talk about this now. Let’s go catch up with our friends and not think about this for now.”

And for once not have this courtship thing looming over her head. She had firmly decided she couldn’t tell either Clementine or Rabastan about her situation yet, if at all. She loved her friends, truly, but between one being socially unaware and the other practicing occlumency with her cousin, her secret would be out within a fortnight. If that.

No, her time with her friends would be strictly to enjoy their presence and forget about all this mess.

“Fine by me,” Sirius muttered, straightening. "Though easier said than done."

“As everything usually is-”

He shushed her loudly, his eyes flickering to the front.

Polaris blinked up at him but then between passing students, she caught sight of the familiar form of one the infuriating tease that was James bloody Potter, leaning on the doorway of one the compartments as he looked around. He brightened when he spotted them just as she spotted him.

“Sirius!” He called over everyone’s heads. 

Sirius tossed his head back in acknowledgement with a massive grin that mirrored Potter’s on his face. But then he whispered from the corner of his mouth. “Best to keep this all as quiet as possible.”

Not exactly subtle but at least points for effort. She thought with a tight smile as they approached Potter. “Obviously.” 

Now, despite having wanted to avoid the characters that had a direct impact on the storyline, much like Sirius, there was no way that she could ignore James Potter.

Avoid, yes to a degree.

But wherever Sirius went, Potter was sure to follow. Of course, so were Lupin and Pettigrew, but Lupin tended to avoid her himself and Pettigrew couldn't string two words together in her presence. Potter was the only one who could approach her with no issues and actively did so because he wanted to get along with his best friend’s sister. Mind you ‘get along’ is being used loosely here… ugh.

There was a time where Polaris had been excited to see him (not exactly meet him because again, she endeavored to stay away from the plotline as much as she could, but considering he would be her twin’s best mate, it was inevitable). She spent eleven years mentally preparing for the moment she did because this was the future father and closest semblance she would come to seeing and/or meeting the Harry Potter. She never saw James Potter at any family functions because he was part of the main Potter branch rather than the one Auntie Dorea so she had to wait patiently until her first time waiting to go to Hogwarts.

She had hoped to have been calm and collected when she finally met another important character (as having lived with Sirius and Regulus as actual brothers kind of took the novelty away) but James Potter was the second most important character she would come to meet. She could still remember meeting him for the first time on the train and being completely in awe at the sight of him - again, the closest she would get to seeing the main character of her favorite series. 

First thing she noticed - nothing like the movie portrayals, could barely pass for being a relative of Daniel Radcliff. 

He had been small back then, shorter than her even. Small and scrawny with unruly jet black hair and bright hazel eyes behind wired frames. Full of energy and reminded her all too much of what an annoying little brother could be like (Regulus was not annoying by any means), a very different personality than what she imagined Harry would one day have obviously. He had been a little menace back then and when coupled with her twin, they were absolutely explosive together. 

Now, he was just a little better. And taller, he hit another stupid growth spurt this summer. And filling out thanks to Quidditch, gone was most of the baby fat. 

But his hair was still as unruly and his eyes were still ridiculously bright with mischief. 

Mischief and looking for entertainment.

Admittedly, he wasn’t obnoxious as she often heard Evans bemoaning to Snape about, eccentric sure and a bit of a showboat but she found that was just typical pre-teen and teen behavior. But Potter was a tease, one who always had something up his sleeve which could make for good entertainment or a nightmare depending where you stood and frankly, Polaris’s position in that respect was as determined as a coin flip. Whenever he decided that Polaris was an ally and not a target to irritate, they were quite capable of light banter and making intelligent conversations with one another. But when she was at the other end, they were cat and mouse as he actively looked to pester her, be it prank or be it out of annoyance.

Which was why she looked at him shrewdly as they got closer to him.

His smile hadn’t turned into a smirk just yet, that was a good sign.

“Well, well, it’s my lucky day to have both the illustrious Black twins in my presence.” He announced in an indulgent way. 

“What do you mean, you’re lucky to even be in mine.” Sirius sniffed pompously.

Potter snorted, finally looking at her. “Have a good summer, black bear?” He greeted cheekily in a way that had her rolling her eyes. At some point, she supposed Sirius had explained to him what star gave her her name and since then, Potter had begun calling her anything associated with bears.

She was about to respond when Sirius cut her off. “Don’t do that.” 

“What?”

“Don’t ignore me and try charming my sister in front of me.”

Polaris frowned as Potter raised an eyebrow, amused. “Someone’s a little testy here. Jealous I’m talking to your sister?”

“Just don’t talk to her.”

“Sirius.” She warned, having realized he was actually still very much “testy” concerning guys when it came to her, even if it was his best mate, as surprising as that was.

“That one sounded territorial.” Potter slyly glanced between Polaris and Sirius before fixing Sirius with a shiteating grin. “What, did Arcturus Black finally go senile and betroth the two of you to one another?”

“Oh, that’s disgusting.” Polaris gagged, shoving Sirius away from her who was all too happy to go, looking just as disgusted as she was. 

But of course, Potter couldn’t stop there. “Though, if it’s true, you might want to air out that dirty laundry before all the marriage minded purebloods start inundating the Noble House of Black with marriage proposals before your majority next year.”

“Okay, shut your damn mouth.” Sirius growled, shoving at Potter who began snickering. 

“Sorry,” James grinned lopsidedly and unapologetically. “Can’t take a joke?”

“Apparently not as of late.” Polaris cut in wryly, subtly pressing her knuckle against Sirius’s side in warning. She felt him tense for a moment before she offered Potter a smile. “ Hello, Potter. Have a good summer?”

Potter shrugged easily. “As good as ever, though it kind of sounds like Sirius’s ended on a bad note. You always drop him off in the worst of moods.” 

Polaris hummed. “Crouch snitched to his lovely grandmama who just so happened to see our mother recently.” 

“Polly! Why- No, don't- I know you’re going to say it but don't. He’s a little sneak. I know.” Sirius complained, wagging a finger at Potter’s smirk. It didn’t take a genius to know there was an ‘I told you so’ there somewhere or to realize what it meant.

“Melin, even Potter warned you and you still did,” she scoffed but stepped away anyway. “Go have fun, brother. He's all yours, Potter. I’m off to find Bastan and Clem.”

"Don't forget to pick this one up for daily walks,” James chirped, “oh and tell your loverboy we said hi.” He immediately got instinctually smacked in the shoulder by Sirius for that quip, one that’s run its course mind you. Potter always loved throwing the fact that Rabastan was her closest friend into the ring just to get reactions out of Sirius.

Deciding to be a better sport than her twin, Polaris rolled her eyes exaggeratedly before turning away and disappearing further into the train in search of her friends.

Though she hardly had to look far. She had been taking her time, casually cataloging everyone she saw - every year new faces dotted the train and she was always astounded at how tiny they appeared each year. She offered a couple of them vague smiles when she made brief eye contact with any of them, when she suddenly felt someone tap their knuckles against the side of her head gently.

“Looking for us?”

She whipped her head around, looking up at the familiar face of Rabastan Lestrange who stood at her shoulder. 

Rabastan Lestrange had been an unexpected friend for Polaris. When she first met him in one of the many public functions from her childhood, she was a bit thrown. Knowing that he had been one of the people that tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom in the books, she had been expecting someone more … like Bellatrix? 

Bellatrix had always been a bit cruel - again, the most sadistic of their brood. So much so that Polaris knew her future balanced on the tip of a knife, leaning closer to the same path day by day. Her husband, Rudolphus, however, was in fact, a dick that put on a good face in front of House Black - but amongst the cousins? Polaris avoided him when she could.

She was certain that Rabastan would have been the same, only to find he was, well, normal. Awkward at first, but sensible and otherwise engaging and witty. He wasn’t cruel, or mean, never had been. When they were younger, he tended to gravitate towards her and her brothers at functions but Polaris’s friendship with Rabastan only really took root in Hogwarts as they were sorted in the same house, the same year, and they’ve been good friends since.

A small part of her wondered if that friendship would be enough to keep him away from the Longbottoms in the future. To keep him away from that path.

She tried not to think about it too much.

Looking at him now, he was gangly as ever but slowly filling out in the awkward puberty stages that everyone their year was approaching. His dark blond hair had grown a little longer over summer, but still as neatly styled as the rest of his appearance, save the dark splotches under his eyes that could only come from the brutal lessons with her dear cousin, Bella.

Clearly, she hadn’t been kind.

Polaris smirked. “Clearly not anymore since I’m sure you’ll escort me to wherever Clem is.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You and that princess attitude you get after summers. It’s a wonder how anyone puts up with it.”

“And yet here we are.” She answered primly as he began to lead her farther down the train to their compartment.

He snorted wryly. “Have a good summer then?”

“Made the best towards the end.” She answered vaguely, curiously looking into compartments as they passed them by. “Can’t say the same for you, though, I bet.”

Part of her felt a little bad for him. Learning occlumency from any of the Blacks was bound to be horrible. The Noble House of Black pounded Occlumency lessons into their children as early as five years old out of paranoia, so they were all pretty advanced in that field. She’d imagine Bellatrix would be a nightmare to learn it from, she’d undoubtedly be vicious about it, but promising. 

“I’m beginning to hypothesize that the reason your cousin is a bitch is because of these occlumency lessons.”

“Can’t be, the rest of us had the same lessons and turned out normal.”

“Your brother tattooed himself to the collarbones before he even turned sixteen.”

“It’s called creativity and he was a blank canvas.” 

“I thought he did it to antagonize your mother.”

“That too.”

Rabastan chuckled, reaching in front of her to open the door to one of the compartments. 

Inside sat Clementine Greengrass, the image of a pureblooded lady, surrounded by many open journals. She was a very pretty girl, with wheat blonde hair in an elegant up-do, pretty blue eyes and face. The type of pretty that made people stop and stare and blushing to talk to her, though Polaris had the pleasure of watching many attempt to only to fail keeping conversation with the ever inquisitive Clementine. 

Well that or she inadvertently insulted them. Her lack of social awareness was undeniable and completely entertaining. (Entirely the reason Polaris wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her about the whole … thing.) It had been one of the many reasons that they became friends.

She looked up at their entrance, lighting up at the sight of her. "Polly."

“Hi Clem,” Polaris glanced at one of the journals, smiling when she saw the horrible chicken scratch that was Clementine’s handwriting. “Revising or theorizing?”

"Neither." Rabastan snickered, earning himself a dirty glare. "Ask her what she's done to her daddy's gardens-"

"I was trying to create a new irrigation system for his garden," Clementine enunciated pointedly,  "but I must’ve messed up because it’s completely dead now.”

Polaris snorted softly, lifting one of the journals, squinting. “Probably because there’s an Eiwaz instead of Laguz here.”

“What?” The blonde’s head snapped up. She pouted when she saw Polaris pointing at the second line. “Oh you’ve got to be joking. I spent the past week looking for that.”

“Frantically, no doubt. Lord Greengrass does cherish those gardens.” 

“He’s begun to choke up whenever he looks out the window. And mummy laughs anytime she thinks about it or sees daddy crying.”

So does Bastan, she thought, judging by how the boy’s smirk curled wider as he haphazardly pushed some of her journals to the side so he could lounge on the seat like a fat, happy house cat despite the dirty look Clementine was sending him. 

“Did he cry over your notes? There’s tear stains on this one.”

“Unfortunately.”

Polaris smiled, tapping the journal against Clementine’s head affectionately, taking a seat next to her, careful to not sit on her notes.

“Oh, shut up.” Clementine snapped at Rabastan, gathering her notes and journals to put away.

The boy held his hands up placatingly despite how devious his smile looked. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t need to. You’re projecting.” She rolled her eyes exaggeratingly before leaning towards Polaris. “I highly doubt he’ll ever be proficient with occlumency. Say goodbye to your privacy as Bellatrix will soon be privy of it all if she already hasn’t been.”

Polaris sighed heavily. “I’ve had time to make my peace with it unfortunately.”

“Glad to know ‘ripping my mind open’ comes second to your privacy.” 

“It only takes a second for her to open your mind, it’ll take her years to stop talking about the embarrassments of my life.” Polaris smiled sweetly.

Clementine nodded as she straightened the last of her notes and banishing them into her bag. “Yes, who cares about you turning into a vegetable when we have to worry about Polly’s parents finding out she’s considering a lingerie line.”  

Rabastan’s eyes widened and he sent Polaris a pointed smirk. “Forget her parents, does her brother know?”

“No.” She sniffed but sent him one back. “Don’t go ruining that surprise.”

“Can I be the one to tell him?”

“Sod off, he’s my twin.”

“Can I be there when you tell him?”

“‘Course you can.”

He leaned back smug and content. 

“How was your summer, Polly?” Clementine asked, wrapping her arm around Polaris’s. 

“Well, I spent the summer mostly working on projects and ended it with getting one of the most important commissions I’ll ever get.” She straightened proudly, glancing between the two. 

“Important to you or important in general?”

“For her, I bet - let me guess, your Aunt Lucretia wants you to make the next set costumes for some big productions?”

Polaris shook her head, beaming. “Narcissa has commissioned me to do her wedding gown.”

And despite all of the etiquette that had been ingrained into them, their jaws dropped and Polaris loved to see it. Clementine squealed, grabbing Polaris's hands excitedly. "Congratulations! Oh I'm so happy for you!"

Rabastan leaned forward with a growing smile, "'course she would ask you. Like Narcissa would ever choose some third-rate designer for the biggest event of the century."

It made Polaris preen. Even if she was forty something mentally, it was truly a dream to work on something that meant so much to someone she cared about. Just thinking about it never failed to put her in the best of moods.

“Thank you, I have so many ideas!” Polaris was practically vibrating in her seat from excitement.

“Oh I bet!” Clementine laughed. “If you need any help with your runes, I’m happy to help!”

“Are you sure you should help considering Lord Greengrass’s-”

“Shut up.” Clementine cut Rabastan off, swiftly and primly with a serene look to his amusement. 

“Thanks,” Polaris smiled warmly. “I’ll let you know.”

“I’d offer to help but I’m sure you wouldn’t want me in the room when you’re working on the dress.” Rabastan shrugged with a soft smile, leaning forward with his head on his fist. 

Polaris was about to instinctively deny that because even if she lost herself to her projects, it never stopped Rabastan from sitting in the corner of whatever she deigned her projected room. He preferred to follow her on her endeavors as Clementine’s projects tended to be more experimental than hers (the last time he went with Clementine, he returned to her with half his eyebrows).

But then she remembered.

Bellatrix.

The project.

If he wasn’t around often enough, he wouldn’t be able to witness anything that gave away the idea of fake courting.

Her mouth clicked shut, recognizing an opportunity when she saw one. As … unfortunate as it was that she was going to spend more time talking to fake-suitors and not her closest friend.

Clementine, unaware of the comprehension on Polaris’s face, tilted her head curiously. “Aren’t you two usually joined at the hip?” 

“Well, yeah.” Rabastan shrugged, albeit awkwardly for someone who normally kept a nonchalant demeanor. “But Narcissa’s wedding is in Spring. I see Bellatrix over Yule and we all know how Bellatrix is.”

“Surely she wouldn’t do that to her sister.” Clementine frowned.

Polaris couldn’t help but snort. “Not to Cissy, no. But to Malfoy? Bella needs to amuse herself somehow.” 

She’d rip out the images of the wedding dress in mind and ruin the surprise for Narcissa and Lucius. Granted, Bellatrix wouldn’t be cruel to her own sister (never Andromeda, Polly sure, Regulus maybe, Sirius definitely), but she’d ruin it for Lucius out of a petty prank. The First Look was a tradition Purebloods followed as a symbol for the first step of magical union, one that Narcissa had dreamt of for years because her wedding had to be perfect . 

She would raze hell if it wasn’t. 

Er- she was going to raze hell anyways. Cissy was a perfectionist .

But, well, it’d be worse - you get the point.

Polaris gave Rabastan a genuine smile. “Thank you for thinking ahead, Bast. You’re very thoughtful”

Rabastan smiled back, albeit arrogantly.

“Yes, such a bittersweetheart,” Clementine nodded sagely, causing Rabastan to send her a dry look. “Such a brat until he decides to be considerate.” 

He huffed, gesturing to her then to him. “Cauldron, kettle.”

“Pardon me, I am a sweet heart.”

The two huffed at each other and bickered as Polaris leaned back, content to listen. All while reveling in the fact that her grand act was slowly coming together. 

She just needed the leading actor now.

Oh her Auntie Lucretia would be proud if she only knew. 

But she wouldn’t. Not if Polaris could help it.

When Polaris first arrived at Hogwarts as a tiny little first year, she explored everything she possibly could. From the dungeons to the wings and towers, every room she possibly could, she searched every nook and cranny for two reasons. 

One, this was Hogwarts, she waited for so long to finally go so of course she was going to explore. She could still remember playing Hogwarts Legacy and the castle layout, but the real thing was so much more - grand? Amazing? Intimidating? Everything? Everything. It was kind of like being at one of those amusement parks the first few months and never quite lost its novelty. She wanted to find the kitchens, the Room of Requirement, Myrtle’s bathroom, the Astronomy tower, the Quidditch Pitch, everything that she read about or saw in the game, she wanted to find it all. Whenever she found them, she spent those moments all starry eyed and enthralled that she was very thankful that Sirius was too invested in James to follow her around all the time. She really didn’t need him to see her reverently caressing the faucet with the snake in Myrtle’s bathroom or furiously pacing trying to find the Room of Requirement.

Two, and this one was the important one, real estate. 

She needed to compile a list of the most optimal rooms to work on her projects if she couldn’t use her room. Realistically, the Room of Requirement would have been the most ideal room, but she had to factor in that her brothers would look for her. 

At the time, she only accounted for Sirius and he had an uncanny ability to find her (“Twins,” was the explanation, they would deadpan at each other, reaching out to only touch index fingers), but when Regulus came to school, his level of determination in trying to find Polaris was unmatched and borderline obsessive actually. Had this been anyone but her darling little brother, she probably would have been upset, but this was her Regulus who followed her around like a kitten back then, she found it quite adorable.

She hadn’t been the only one to notice of course. In a positive manner, that is. It had impressed the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Marcus Thunban, so much so that the captain practically pounced on Regulus the following year with the Quidditch tryout form and was rumored to have shed tears when he happily presented Regulus with his Quidditch uniform after he managed to score the highest score. 

That all said and good, it meant they’d be hot on her tail and for all that she loved her brothers, she wasn’t sure she wanted to show them the Room. At least not yet.

She didn’t want Sirius privy to it because it could affect the creation of the map (unless it was unplottable? But Hogwarts was technically unplottable and yet the Marauder’s Map - ugh nevermind she rather not even think about it) and while she loved her brothers, she rather wait to offer up the knowledge of the Room of Requirement until it benefited her. 

The second room she would have loved using but didn’t want to have too many know of its existence (Sirius and his Marauders, Regulus, Rabastan, Clementine), was the Undercroft that she remembered from the game. That room was her escape if she needed to be left alone from all thoughts and everything.

Which meant that she would have to settle with unused classrooms to disappear to - multiple rooms just in case she found snogging teenagers in one of them at any point in time. (The horror when she caught Sirius using one of her rooms for snogging, she was cross with him for weeks .)

It was in one of those many rooms (Sirius-snog-free obviously) that she could be found in a week after the new school year started. She set up camp for the weekend in order to devote herself to work on Cissy’s dress. She hadn’t wanted any of the girls in her dorm to catch wind of her latest project, the less people who knew about how it looked, the more amazing it was going to look for Cissy’s wedding which was something she knew her cousin would want. Plus she got to stretch out all of her work for better viewing. 

She leaned against the main desk, comparing rolls and rolls of parchment full of notes about fabric properties and designs with the countless of more notes on the numerous boards she had set up, completely lost in thought of what she could envision on Cissy when the door swung open and that was how her brothers found her.

It was probably one of the first times she could ever recall lamenting the sight of her brothers.

“Honestly, you’d think you walked in on Polly figuring out the answer to one of the world’s greatest mysteries, only to realize she was figuring out if chiffon can sparkle.” Sirius yawned, throwing himself onto a transfigured couch in the corner of her room.

“Not sparkle, but I’m proud you know what chiffon is.” Polaris sighed, turning away from her notes.

“‘Course I do, Millie Vector had on a very pretty chiffon dress at the Ministry Ball when we snuck into one of the cupboards for a good ol’-”

“So how are we going to do this?” She asked loudly, pointedly turning to the youngest of their trio as he approached her.

He gave her a charming smile that she would normally pinch his cheek for as he pressed a stack of parchment into Polaris’s hands. “Here’s a list of everyone I compiled so far, Polly.”

Trust Regulus to be the most prepared. “Oh, thank you, Reg.” She flipped through the stack idly, “this is actually a lot more than I imagined.” He had even gone through detailed names with lineages, family members, and some particular notes.

“Don’t get too excited,” he warned. 

“Most of those are going to be crossed out.” Sirius called, leg bouncing as he absently looked at the equation on the board. 

“Right, speaking of…” Conjuring a quill, Regulus flipped through the parchment until he finally scratched a ridiculously bold line through Travers, Heath. Polaris pursed her lips, curiously looking at her little brother as he vanished the quill, meeting her eyes unabashedly. “The girls he chats up get younger and younger every year.”

“Ah.” Polaris nodded, conjuring another quill with red ink to scribble over it even more aggressively. 

It made Sirius beam. “A beautiful and promising start.”

His twin sent him a suffering look. “Did you have any names?”

He shrugged. “If we’re desperate. Figured we would prioritize the names that don’t give dear ol’ mummy and daddy a heart attack yet.” 

Regulus and Polaris looked at each other and then shrugged, understandingly. 

“Besides, you don’t need anymore. Reg’s got what? At least fifty names in that stack?” Sirius squinted at the stack, raising an eyebrow.

“Give or take.”

The boys winced, looking back at Polaris.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before dividing the stack. “Start sorting these out by likeliness,” and maybe get rid of some if she thought them questionable enough and ease the load, hopefully, “and then we go top to bottom of the list.”

“That should be easy enough.”

“Right.”

It was not ‘easy enough’, they came to find. 

The next several hours were long and horrible, with a lot of debate and arguing and negotiation, but in the end, a list of forty-six sat on the conjured coffee table between them, each with their own (but hilariously similar, considering they all had furrowed eyebrows and a hand over their mouths) look of trepidation as they stared down at it. 

One neat little stack of parchment with forty-six names.

“...so….”

“I guess….”

“This is it.”

“Yup.”

“Well-”

Polaris cleared her throat. “Good, then let’s get to bed and then we can get started in the morning. And the sooner we find someone, the sooner we can be out of this mess.”

“Agreed.” Her brothers nodded profusely.

But none of them moved, continuing to stare down at the stack of parchment.

“Can we agree,” Regulus said after a moment, “that we get rid of this Courtship stuff when we become the next adult generation?”

“Melin, yes.” Polaris and Sirius groaned simultaneously, their shoulders dropping in relief. 

Polaris rubbed at her eyes tiredly. “We spent two hours debating on fucking Puginson and Harlow , those are two hours I’m never getting back-”

“I can’t believe you even suggested Snape, what the fuck is wrong with you-”

“-oh for someone who kept wanting to joke around, seems like you can’t take a joke. What do your friends keep you around for?”

Sirius gasped audibly and Polaris felt the bags under her eyes a little heavier at the sound of it.

“-next Quidditch game, I’m kicking your ass, Reg-”

“-oh please, you can’t even fly fast enough-”

“-there’s things called bludgers? Ever heard of them-”

“Okay - enough!” Polaris called, sending the two of them pointed looks. “We’re done with arguing. Let’s just go over it one more time and then we can all go to our rooms and sleep this off, deal?

“Fine.” Both of her brothers answered sullenly.

“Good.” She rubbed her face again, reaching for the list. “Then let’s get started now, shall we?”

For the sake of her sanity or what there was left of it anyways.

… this was going to be a very long year.