Ursa III
The library was vibrant with the early rays of the morning even as summer began to fade. Ursa thumbed through a book idly as boredom clawed at her relentlessly, watching the ink pictures move. For six days of the week, she was taught various and numerous subjects by educated witches. For six days of the week, she was entertained by more than the library. It was surprisingly lonely without any companions her age.
Unfortunately, this was the one day of the week that she could do what she wanted.
Unfortunately, even though she despised pretending to be taught basic maths and english, magical history, runes and theory were interesting enough to capture her attention. More unfortunate struck when during her early lessons, she had been banned from doing any extracurricular research on any of those topics barring history. I shan’t be having you getting into trouble because of your own impatience, Missus Black, said her runes teacher, and if you do, it will be you explaining to your mother why.
That was false. If Ursa got hurt in any study that she was being educated on, extracurricular or otherwise, Druella would have them sacked immediately. Ursa wouldn’t call herself overly fond of any of her tutors but she didn’t despise them enough to purposely fire them. They were like the muggle children who called her and her sister’s names when they went to the greasy, grotty park; irritable but not intolerable.
That was why she was reading only magical history. Ursa liked history; liked dismantling causes for wars, liked watching people bet on the wrong horse and still coming out on top, liked knowing and understanding why events happened the way they did. But if she wasn’t afraid that she would give in to the temptation of practice, Ursa would have dived straight into the more practical part of the vast library immediately.
A crack resounded in the air. If she was younger, less adjusted and still going through a new-life crisis, she would have flinched. Instead, Ursa flicked the page of her book over idly, watching the ink swerve and sink as the topic changed. From the side of her eye, she saw the wrinkled creature knot it’s hands together in front of its cream coloured sash.
“Miss Ursa!” It greeted her perfunctorily. Frankly, Ursa couldn’t name most of the house-elves off the top of her head. She had very few things she had retained from when she lived as Anna but one was the inability to remember names. She did, however, recognize most of them them. This was not one she had seen before. “Mistress Druella wanted Lily to tell you that yous is wanted in the foyer. Lily is to take yous-”
“Alright.” Ursa interrupted, letting the book fall closed. Listening to a house-elf ramble in the third person made her appreciate the first person even more, even if reading it drove her up the wall. “Right now?”
It’s - Lily’s - head bobbed up and down rapidly in a nod. “Missus be wanting you right now.”
Ursa placed the book on the table, cocking her head. “Mother would have told me if something was scheduled today.”
“Oh, yes, Mistress was very upset, very upset. Lily shall be making her tea-” The house-elf paused in her ramblings at her raised, and expectant, brow. “Oh, Missus be wanting to know. Master Cygnus’ brother has returned! Troublesome Mister Alphard has come home to see master, he has, but I shan’t be surprised if-”
“My Uncle Alphard?”
The house-elf sighed. “Yes. Yous Uncle Alphard.”
Ursa clapped her hands together giddily. Finally, something to do that wasn’t paging through the same stupid history books over and over again. If Ursa mentioned her boredom to her mother, she would have been forced to sit beside her and review the accounts of the manor or be placed in charge of the house-elves for the day. Early on she had found out, from Narcissa, that despite the house-elves vast and numerous abilities, being organised was not one of them.
Brilliant.
Ursa stood up abruptly, clapping her hands together giddily. It was finally something to do that wasn’t paging through the last memoirs of the goblin wars.
Admittedly, she could have asked Druella for something more interesting to do but when Ursa had done so the first time, it had been the last time. As a baby, when she was a fresh reincarnation who panicked and flailed, she had been forced to sit and watch her mother do the accounts of the house, organise the house elves and go through the arrangements of the week. It had been exhausting watching it and doing it was even more of a chore.
“Right then,” She announced, placing a hand on the pale green skin of the elf in a show of agreement. “Shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
The house-elf snapped her spindly fingers together, and although it wasn’t disorientating like the Floo or nauseating like side-apparation, Ursa stumbled forward and into Druella’s waiting arms. Ursa frowned as she took in her mother’s appearance; to an outsider, her mother was perfectly poised, elegant and genial. Her blonde hair was combed back into a neat style, the little rouge she put on when receiving guests was unsmudged and her robes were fine and silky.
To Ursa, alarm bells were ringing. Squirming in the too-tight grip of her mother, she peered up at the falsely arranged smile on her face. Druella was irritated then, Ursa pondered on that for a moment before noticing the glare in her eyes, and angry too.
“Is my father here?” She looked around the room for another person or people but it was only her and Druella.
It must have been the wrong question to ask. Ursa winced as her nails dug into the sleeves of her dress. Druella smiled tightly. “You’re father is… too busy to greet his brother.”
“Why is Uncle Alphard here, Mother?” Ursa prodded. She was well-acquainted with how these things worked; unless you were a senior member of the house like Grandfather Pollux or Uncle Arcturus, you made arrangements for dinner or tea or, if that was far too much work, you called ahead. To arrive unexpectedly meant it was either an emergency or you were in Walburga’s league of uppity.
“He has come home for a brief visit with your Grandfather Pollux, dear.” Ursa let out a breath of fresh, free air when she was released from Druella’s grip. Thank… someone, it was getting awkward being smushed against her stomach.
Ah, she realised, he isn’t here because he wants to be. He’s here because he was forced to come home.
The more Ursa thought about it, the stranger it got.
The Black family was large; there was a Canadian branch considered “impure” but still recorded on the family tree, there was the German branch from when Grindewald had kicked about and some had sought glory at his side, then lost, then settled. There were the various intermarriages with other houses and House Black’s vassal houses, who were technically just descendants of the spare sons of previous heads. Lots and lots of relatives and only one house head, Uncle Arcturus.
Grandfather Pollux had never expressed any interest - from what she knew - in Alphard returning to Britain. He hadignored Alphard for years, ignored his absences even when Irma complained or people whispered, ignored his rumoured paramours and bastard children. For no reason would he call him back and for no reason would Alphard would listen. Unless it was a direct order from the house head, unless it was important.
Well, probably. Ursa had only scavenged a few magical books on the subject a few years ago and was a bit iffy on the subject which meant…
“Why?”
Druella gave her a look. “To exchange words, dear. That is what a conversation entails.”
Ouch. If she wasn’t a Black, she might’ve cried.
“Unfortunately.”
Alphard looked more like Irma than she expected; he had the stereotypical Black looks with dark hair and grey eyes but there was an offset to him that made him… wilder. Walburga was regal, Cygnus was graceful and Alphard was the incoming storm. The corner of his lips quirked up when he caught sight of her. “This my new niece?”
“You have three more,” Druella replied in a clipped tone. “And two nephews. I just thought I’d like to tell you.”
Alphard gave her a dirty look as he approached. “I do keep up to date on the news, you know.”
Druella sniffed. “It would be hard to since I haven’t seen you, since, oh what year was it again?”
“Don’t kid me. You wouldn’t want me around if I was Merlin.” He flicked one of Ursa’s stray curls and she shuffled back into the shadow of her mother. Nobody touched her hair, even Bellatrix agreed. “This one looks like Cygnus, methinks. Are all your children this pretty?”
“Is that against me or Cygnus?”
Alphard pretended to think on it for a few seconds. “Well, golly, which one of you kept me waiting for half an hour in the rain?”
Ursa stood on the tips of her toes, stealing a glance out the wide-open window, and saw nothing but the dry ground and cloudless skies. It wouldn’t last for long with autumn approaching, she decided, but the lingering touches of summer were clear to see and not a raincloud in sight.
A smirk curled lazily on her face. “It was the doorknob. It jammed.”
“Were you a witch or not?” Alphard huffed. “Now, despite how thrilling it is to see you, Druella, I’d like to see my brother.”
“Did you ever think he’d like to see you?” Druella raised an eyebrow. Ursa hid a grin behind her mother’s skirts. Her hair was tied back in her courtesy braid and therefore, not a curtain she could hide behind anymore leaving her with very few options to hide her smirks and smiles behind.
“Considering I did him the courtesy of sending him a letter-”
“How gracious of you-”
“I should think, that considering the topic,” Alphard said sharply, his silver eyes flicking to Ursa and then back to her mother, “and who it involves, he would be more than willing to talk.”
“Why should he want to see you?” Druella snapped. “You haven’t seen us since your graduation! You just… took off, without a word or even a letter! Cyg was worried sick for days, thinking he’d lost his brother to some freak accident-”
“Oh, is it Cyg now?”
Youch.
“-and now you turn up, thinking everything will be alright because there’s some madman-”
“I told them all to stay out of it, Dru. I warned them, that he would be nothing but trouble. I told Cygnus, I told Orion, I told Walburga - let me tell you, I even warned Abraxas Malfoy and they all told me I was being paranoid-”
Ursa tugged on her mother’s skirts.
“We had to hear from Mortimer Cardieur that you were still alive, for Merlin’s sake, Alphard!”
She tugged harder.
“I sent a letter!”
Ursa opened her mouth.
“From Africa. Do you know how long it takes an owl to fly from Africa to Britain? I know, Alphard, and let me tell you-”
“Oh, here we go-”
Ursa yanked on the fine fabric of her mother’s skirts and finally, Druella turned her gaze from Alphard to her daughter. The fire inside her dark eyes was intense and as fierce as the flames when she argued with Cygnus. “Mother. Can I go?”
It was fun, at first, listening to the two bicker and snark but it was only fun as long as nobody got seriously hurt in the process. A tiny bit of hurt, yes, but Druella sparred with Walburga weekly - with Aries being just born and Walburga in a fragile state, their meetups had decreased from every few days to once a week - and Alphard was a born and raised Black. They could deal.
This was not unfriendly verbal sparring, these were old grudges that had been nursed and raised and placed into tiny clothes with bows.
The two adults blinked, seeming to have forgotten she was even in the room. Ursa would have been insulted if boredom hadn’t set at the moment the fun stopped and the verbal knife-hurling had begun. Druella pinched her lips before placing a manicured hand on her shoulder. “Ursa, dear. Go get your father.”
“Make a house-elf do it.”
Druella smiled. It was a real one, albeit a tad strained. “He won’t come if it’s a house-elf. Only if one of us goes.”
“Why can’t you go?”
“And leave your Uncle Alphard alone in a room of sharp objects?” A barb seemed to be on the tip of her tongue but it was tucked away quickly, and regretfully. “Go. I’ll let you read An Introduction on Futhark in my study.”
Today was turning out to be her lucky day. Ursa smiled beatifically. “Today?”
“After supper.” Druella looked mightily relieved and stepped back. “Go, now. And be quick, else I’ll be forced to work suspiciously fast.”
With the confirmation, Ursa skipped off.
When she arrived at her father’s study door, she hesitated. Cygnus ventured from his sanctuary for one of two reasons; family or food. He sat at breakfast, lunch and supper stoically and traded stilted talk with Druella. On a rare occasion, when both of them were in a good mood, they had talked civilly without glowers or glaring implications. During family gatherings - the vast amount she wasn’t invited to - he grudgingly accepted invites and came back in a blacker mood than usual
Ursa steeled herself; he had taught her stars and constellations, he had never given her more than stilted, but true, affection, he hadn’t been borderline neglectful like Orion was and he had never been harsh like Walburga. He had no reason to get angry at her, anyway, she was only here on Druella's orders slash bribes. Well, she thought, it’s a bit of a low bar to reach.
Her knuckles rapped against the dark, oak door thrice. No response sounded and Ursa frowned, knocking again. “Father?” She called out, feeling a bit stupid. “Mother wants you in the foyer.”
Silence.
“Father?”
Damn, she had expected this to be easier. It wasn’t.
“Father, please. Mother wants you. She says you won’t answer the house-elves she sent up.”
Ursa harrumphed and knocked again, her knuckles starting to hurt. “They’re not being very nice.”
A rustle sounded behind the door.
“Father?” Ursa called out again, drawing out the syllables and knocking in tune. Could she just barge in? No, mother thought it impolite and being on her mother's bad side at the minute wasn't advisable. She played her last card. “Please, I don't like listening to them-”
The door opened and she peered up at the looming form of Cygnus. All the other times she had seen him, he was unruffled and refined but there was tension lining his face that was previously absent and his hair was tied up quickly and without care, a few stray curls escaping the tie. It was like her own, she twisted a dark lock around her finger.
“Ursa.” He greeted gruffly. “I’ll be going down now. You can go now.”
Well, that just wouldn’t do.
“But,” She considered her next words very carefully. “I’m bored.”
Cygnus raised an eyebrow. “Have you memorised the constellations I told you to?”
Ursa grimaced and her father nudged her shoulder to push her down the hall, opposite the direction of where she came from and into the vague direction of the library, again. If she saw the walls of that place again before the sunset, she was burning it down. “I don’t want to spend any more time in the library.”
A sigh sounded behind her and her father disappeared back into his study, emerging a few seconds later with another book in his hands. Cygnus grimaced, crouching down to meet her face to face, much to Ursa’s irritation. “If you stay away from the discussions, you can read outside.”
There were very few rules in the manor that were strictly enforced. One of the few happened to be the “no books outside the library”. It was unlikely that Druella had created that one, Ursa had deduced one day, a fan of literature she was not and even then Ursa could have wormed her way out of any serious punishment with a smile and watery eyes. Which left Cygnus as the only other rule-maker in the house.
“I’ll make sure no bees steal it, don’t worry.” She took the book from his outstretched hand and tucked it close to her chest. “It’ll be safe with me.”
She couldn’t decipher the title when it was handed to her but she assumed it was about the myths surrounding constellations. They had moved from family stars to random stars and what their relationship with the family names was. Myths were touched on, briefly, to give background but never fully explained much to her chagrin. Sometimes she got them out of Narcissa, sometimes she already knew them, sometimes she got them from the library as she often had to but never from her father.
Cygnus nodded, paused, before reaching out a hand and patting her head woodenly. “I’ll let the elves know.”
Ursa hugged the book to her chest, watching her father wander down the hall. She could go after him and listen through the cracks. She could disregard this gift. He hadn’t exactly said she had to give it back, did he? All she had to do was follow him, tag along with him, watch the family drama and learn more in exchange for abandoning an emotional connection.
All she had to do, to prevent herself from losing track of the timeline, to make changes that had more of an effect than making Narcissa a bit nicer and Aries, however, that had happened, was walk forward.
She turned away.