dark lord descending
The summer after Blair’s first year at Hogwarts, the atmosphere of the Black household is rife with both tension and anticipation.
On the surface, all seems normal. After a few days of sulking, the sting of Humphrey’s triumphant year-end academic victory fades and Blair settles into a summer routine.
Every Monday, Lucius dutifully sends her a missive. Every Saturday, she goes on shopping trips with Penny Parkinson, Agrippa Greengrass, and Cissa. Every other Sunday, she sees Cissa some more at the Black family meetings, along with Cissa’s siblings, gentle Andromeda and batshit crazy Bellatrix.
It’s in these family meetings that they hear talk.
They hear talk about the Dark Lord, a mysterious figure whom her mother heralds as the future of pureblood society.
“Finally, a wizard who will stop at nothing to push the pureblood agenda,” Walburga pontificates to anyone who listens. “Not the unification drivel that old Dumbledore spouts,” she spits with a relish. Her mother is allowed to be indecorous at times. She has done her duty and produced three adequate heirs.
The cousins discuss this in secret, of course. It wouldn’t do well to draw ire from their respective parents for something far removed from them.
Bella cackles gleefully. “Finally, a cause I would devote my entire life to!” Her eyes gleam with malice. “Those disgusting pieces of filth don’t deserve to walk alongside us.”
Her sisters just nod, Cissa presumably because she detests conflict, and Andromeda, probably out of fear, the flash of her eyes betraying her actual opinion.
Sirius is incensed. “I know what it’s like for the half bloods and muggleborns,” he mutters to Blair and Regulus, as he silently casts an undetectable hex at Bella. “They’re slowly being persecuted!” He implores his siblings to believe him, insisting that he is more sensitive to the political climate than the twins, who are safely ensconced in the Slytherin dungeons.
Regulus, possibly due to his deep adoration of their eldest brother, possibly because of his loyalty to his friend, Humphrey, parrots everything Sirius says. In secret, of course.
Lastly, their father is ambivalent. “He’s too smooth for my taste,” he admonishes Walburga.
“A Black despising a smooth talker?” Walburga scoffs. “Wonders never cease.”
Orion frowns. “He’s being overly facetious, even for me.”
Despite his misgivings, in public, Orion showers the Dark Lord’s movement with high praise. “Trust no one,” he tells his children. “And seize all opportunities.”
Blair agrees with her father. Call it naivete, call it selfishness, but she sees no need to push the pureblood agenda. She needs no self-proclaimed lord telling her, Blair Black, that she is wizarding royalty. Titles are hereditary, after all, and this man obviously invented his. But if this nameless hack wishes to do her dirty work for her, who is she to complain?
-
Towards the end of her summer break, Regulus hands her a package. His expression is puzzled. “Dan told me to give you this. Let me know if you want to reply.”
It is a tattered book entitled The Invisible Man, authored by a muggle named Ralph Ellison. Blair’s brow wrinkles in equal parts confusion and distaste.
She doesn’t grace Humphrey with a reply.
She finishes the book in a day.