The Lady of (New) Avalon

The conversations and consequences which followed in the wake of Samhain 1976 were largely unimportant so far as the large-scale impact of any particular event goes, but as far as the formation and solidification of relationships between the Founders of New Avalon, and those who would eventually become...let's say key motivators in its establishment — the people who stringently opposed our interests, but in so doing, pushed us only further in our efforts — they were absolutely essential.

My inevitable return to the House of Black and Asphodel's adoption into it;

The relationship between myself and Asphodel taking on the characteristics which would define it throughout the course of the Founding Years;

The revelation that the House of Black, long on the brink of collapse under the neglectful "leadership" of Arcturus Sirius, might yet have a future with Narcissa at its helm;

The (admittedly disastrous) decision on my part to undertake the negotiation of a diplomatic resolution to the War;

The increasing certitude among certain individuals that I'd lost my bloody mind again...

Yes, as painful as it may be to recall the dissolution of our relationship, we need to talk about James.

"Jamie!"

James flinched, looking up from his breakfast with an...almost scared expression? Horrified, maybe, and also possibly a bit ill. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept at all after the Dance had ended. Evans, de Mort, and Bella were all gone when Aster came back to herself, but Snape had filled her in on the shite she'd missed on their way back up to the school. The idea of de Mort being shouted at by Death Itself via Lily fucking Evans was bloody hilarious, but she hadn't managed to convince Bat-boy to share the memory. (She somehow doubted de Mort would be willing to do so, which was a fucking shame.)

Evans had dragged herself back to the Tower around dawn, all silly and elated, babbling about the bloody moon and flying automobiles, but practically asleep on her feet. She'd passed out without even taking off her robes, which Walburga would definitely have screamed at her for — one simply didn't lie down in formal dress robes. Even sitting was generally frowned upon. But Aster wasn't really planning on wearing that thing any time soon any more today than she had been last night, so who cared if it got wrinkles smashed into it? She hadn't bothered undressing the mad ritualist, just left her to sleep it off with her stupid undead cat. She was probably going to miss morning classes, but it was just Potions today. Slughorn wouldn't question it if Aster told him Evans hadn't been feeling well.

She was far more concerned about Jamie. He'd been really out of it, after the ritual — shocky, almost. Quiet and confused, stumbling after Aster and Snape and Evan and Reg as though he wasn't sure whether this was the real world or not. Understandable, the visions and memories experienced in the Dance were really vivid, and she was pretty sure Jamie wouldn't have been taught proper grounding techniques any more than Evans. She imagined that could make it difficult to tell the difference. And Aster voluntarily speaking to Snape and her brother probably didn't help. She didn't exactly do that often. She had wanted to know what she'd missed, though, and Evan and Reg were bugging Snape about it at the same time, so they'd all kind of ended up walking back to the school together.

Jamie had disappeared up to the boys' room without really saying much of anything, and Aster hadn't really tried to stop him. Even if he had been practically sleepwalking by that point, he was entirely capable of finding his bed by himself. She'd thought it was probably best to give him "time to process" as McKinnon would put it. Not to mention, she was kind of tired herself, and she'd wanted to go write down everything she could remember about the lives she'd witnessed before she completely forgot. She thought she might've been a Russian princess or something for a while, and maybe an author? a poet or playwright, somewhere in France. She didn't think either of them had been mages, there wasn't enough magic around them, thinking back on it, no enchantments or anything, and she hadn't used a wand as either of them...

Anyway, she'd figured that he'd be over whatever his deal was by now. Or, maybe not entirely over it, realising the Powers were real was probably a major revelation, she guessed, but she definitely hadn't thought he'd look as completely wrecked as he still did. Like, taking a double-dose of Sober-Up when you've been drinking since dinner the night before because you have to go sit a runes exam and it's totally not your fault you forgot about it, there was a party and keeping track of shite like that is Remus's job, you're just in it for the excuse to enchant a motorbike wrecked. It was...kind of concerning.

"Hey, Siri– Aster, I mean." Gods and Powers, he even sounded exhausted. "I, look, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Are you okay?"

"What? Yes, I'm fine. Just because I can't deal with you being all awake and bouncy and Sirius bloody Black today doesn't mean there's something wrong with me."

"Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of refraining from being an obnoxious twat," she informed him, clambering onto the bench. "Occasionally. For people I like. Pass the bacon?"

He did, but then he stood up, shouldered his bag, and headed toward the main doors.

"Hey!" She took the time to grab a few rashers and wrap a muffin in a napkin before chasing after him. "What the hell?!"

"I told you, I don't want to talk to you, Sirius!"

"Too fucking bad. Just because you don't want me to be my usual charmingly enthusiastic self around you when you feel like shite doesn't mean there isn't something wrong with you, either, and you look like you were dragged through at least five of the seven hells last night. I'm worried about you."

"Well, don't be!" He glared down at her for a moment before stalking away again.

"Can't. This will be much easier on both of us if you stop running away like a little bitch and tell me what's wrong."

"What isn't wrong, Sirius?!"

"Um...muffins? Quidditch? Sleep? You really look like you could use some, in case that wasn't clear from the you look like several hells comment. Or at least some coffee. Apparently there's actually good coffee, you just have to ask the elves for it special, or steal it from the High Table."

"Ugh! Can't you just stop—" He cut himself off, shoved her bodily into the empty classroom on her left. "Everything is wrong!" he spat, following. "The bird I fancy is apparently a psychotic bloody necromancer; my best mate—"

Oh, shite. Aster threw a couple of anti-eavesdropping charms up. She hadn't expected Jamie to just start shouting about Evans being a bloody necromancer, like there weren't people in the school who would take that the wrong way.

James didn't even pause, his tirade, if anything, gaining steam. "—turned himself into a girl and apparently doesn't have any moral compass to speak of; the fucking Dark Lord tried to give me advice on dating his daughter; Bellatrix thinks I'm at fault for you being a bloody crazy person; and to top it all off, I think I was possessed last night! And no one seems to think that's, you know, kind of a big deal— That was black magic, Sirius! I– I– I was tricked into doing black magic! And— You didn't say that was going to happen, with the ghosts, or whatever they were!"

"Er...didn't I?" Actually, thinking back on it, she might not have. She knew she'd mentioned the Dance, but she might not have explained exactly what was supposed to happen. "Oops. Sorry. But no one's acting like it's a big deal because it's not. It's—"

"You don't think anything is a big deal, Sirius! You turned yourself into a girl, and didn't think it was a big deal! Excuse me if I don't exactly trust your judgment, here!"

Aster restrained herself from snapping that her being a girl wasn't a big deal. (With difficulty.) "Don't be thick, James, of course there are things I think are a big deal. But the Samhain ritual really isn't. I mean, do you think that Dumbledore would let us do it if it were really illegal? He'd love to have an excuse to get rid of all the holiday rituals."

"Well, I don't know, Sirius! Maybe it is really illegal, and he can't stop it — he ran away last night! Dumbledore!"

Oh. Right. And for someone who had been raised to think that Albus Dumbledore was fucking perfect, seeing him scuttle away all unnerved as he had was probably a bit of a blow to that image. "Yeah, and it was funny as hell. Probably not as funny as Persephone telling off de Mort for claiming to be immortal and threatening to use Evans to murder him if he doesn't knock it off, but Snape wouldn't share the memory, so I can't say for sure."

"And that's another thing! Since when are you friends with Snivellus?!" he demanded, sounding practically hysterical.

She rolled her eyes at him, because, really? Friend was not a word she would use to describe Severus Snape. Just because she'd promised to call him Snape instead of Snivels (which really wasn't a terribly onerous gesture of apology, so far as such things went) didn't mean she liked him. "We're not friends, he's just the less creepy of my new roommate's pets — apparently that evil little moggy of hers is undead."

"WHAT?!"

"I know, right? Who even does that, reanimating a bloody cat... And she lets it sleep on my pillow! Disgusting thing... Anyway, I was saying, everyone bows to Death. Well, everyone but Evans, but she's a fucking freak. Dumbledore making himself scarce when It seriously started in on him isn't at all surprising. I mean, you can't really have expected him to try to force both Bella and the bloody Dark Lord to piss off, with Death guilt-tripping him over his sister's death — i.e., making it clear that It's not going to be on his side, if it comes to a fight — and a hundred or so innocent students around to be collateral damage if he did start something. Retreating was really his only option. It wasn't just cowardice, or whatever you're thinking.

"And the Witnesses' role in the Samhain ritual is barely high magic. Yes, you were possessed by the spirits of the Dead, but they weren't hurting you or anyone else, just sharing a few of their memories with you. It's not like you were tricked into doing anything bad, I'm sure Dorea's done it, and I didn't mean to trick you anyway, I just wanted you to come and see that Evans is definitely a dark witch."

"Yeah, well, congratulations, mission accomplished, I can't believe I spent years— And she was evil the whole time?!"

"Wait, what?" Shite! No, that wasn't what she'd wanted him to think at all! She might use "evil" to casually describe Evans and Transfiguration exams and bludgers that didn't want to go where she'd aimed them, but Jamie invariably meant "evil" like Bellatrix was evil. And Evans might be creepy as hell, but she wasn't really what Aster would consider a danger to people. See Aster being comfortable sleeping in her room without warding her bed or some shite.

"You're the one who said she's a bloody necromancer! And you've been telling me she's an evil, manipulative bitch for years!"

"Well, yeah, and I'm not saying Evans isn't a soulless, manipulative, unfeeling bitch, but that really has nothing to do with her thing with Persephone. That's just, you know, her personality."

"No, she's just insane, thinking a fucking god talks to her — gods don't exist, Sirius!" How could he go to the Samhain ritual, and still insist that gods didn't exist?! "And she's really de Mort's daughter?!"

"Okay, first off, gods definitely exist, and I'm definitely writing to Dorea and telling her you think they don't, because I know for a fact she knows they do. They would've forced her to do all the same rituals I did growing up. Secondly, yes, she's de Mort's daughter, and yes, they do have a lot in common, but she's not evil—"

"Why are you defending her?!"

"Well, if you'd stop interrupting and let me fucking talk, I'd tell you! It's not like she goes around killing people for fun, or does human sacrifice rituals, or turns people into puppets and tortures them, or started a war to get Britain to give her a bloody island! Me calling her evil is just me being hyperbolic as usual. You calling her evil means you think she's just as bad as they are, and she's really, really not. Like, on a scale of evil, manipulative people, she's closer to Cissy than de Mort. And," she added, realising it even as she said the words, "you thinking she's actually evil means you're probably going to do something really, really stupid, like try to turn her in as a black mage or some shite—"

"Well, why shouldn't I!" Because it's just not on? Seriously, she couldn't imagine why he would think that was okay! You didn't just go around turning people over for being closer to Magic than you were comfortable with! (That was like...some kind of sacrilege, or something!) "She is, you said it yourself, she's a bloody necromancer, she's dangerous, and obviously insane, and—"

And what am I, Jamie? Did Dorea never teach him the difference between potentially dangerous and actually dangerous? But the fact that that position held all sorts of terrible implications about Jamie's opinions about crazy people in general wasn't the most important issue, at the moment. "And if you try to get her Kissed and chucked through the Veil, Bella and de Mort will rescue her, and I definitely am not good enough to stop Bella killing you for endangering her daughter — which she definitely will. The fact that they only met yesterday matters exactly zero, because Bellatrix is insane, and you are not on the List!"

"Her dau— Wait, list? What list?"

"The list of People Bella Doesn't Want Dead — Evans is on it; you're not." Granted, Aster wasn't entirely certain who was and wasn't on the list anymore, but Bella didn't like James, she thought he was a bad influence, so he probably wasn't. And she did like Evans — or rather, Asphodel de Mort, so. If Jamie tried to get Evans executed, Aster had no doubt that Bella would retaliate.

Jamie's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And you think the solution to that is just keep my head down and do whatever the fuck she wants?"

"Well, seeing as I don't want you dead, yes! And quite frankly, I don't think it's unreasonable to declare a handful of people to be unacceptable targets."

"Children are unacceptable targets, Sirius! Bloody necromancers are not!"

"We're not talking about necromancers in general — though necromancers are about the least offensive black mages ever—" Seriously, most necromancers were just...boring. "—we're talking about Evans specifically. Her precious Master's newly discovered daughter, the one she offered to adopt less than two hours after meeting her! Besides, what happened to Evans not knowing what she was doing? being a poor little ignorant muggleborn?"

"Well, obviously I was wrong! Fucking rub it in, why don't you!"

"If I weren't so concerned you were going to do something terminally stupid, I probably would. Evans just being a necromancer isn't hurting anyone, reporting her would do about as much good for anyone else as reporting me for apparating without a license or underage drinking, except with a death sentence instead of a fucking fine."

"What happened to you trusting my judgement, Sirius?"

Low. Fucking. Blow. Aster glared at him. "You told me not to, and survival is always a higher priority than morality, everyone knows that!" Even Evans knew that, and she was a bloody muggleborn!

"According to who? Salazar bloody Slytherin?"

...Actually, she didn't know where that principle came from. She assumed it had been around longer than Bella, since Walburga had occasionally mentioned keeping one's priorities in the proper order, too. And practically the whole bloody House had been in Slytherin, the ones who'd gone to Hogwarts anyway, so... "Maybe? Honestly, I thought it was just common knowledge. The survival of the House is the first priority; then your own survival; then following the commands of your Head of House; the survival of other members of the House; the survival of clients and allies, and members of those Houses; fulfilling any other vows the House has made to clients or allies; then any vows you've made, personally, to the House, individual members of the House, clients, allies, and outsiders, in that order... There's about a dozen more points, but personal preferences, including moral obligations to snuff out relatively inoffensive ritualists for having the temerity to exist, even when they haven't done anything to you, your House, clients, allies, or anyone at all really, are all the way at the end of the list. Your opinion on whether it's right or wrong to report Evans is irrelevant, because one choice results in your death and the other doesn't."

Jamie just stared at her for a long moment. "That's... That's ridiculous! Someone actually taught you that, like, a rule?"

Was it ridiculous? It seemed pretty reasonable to her. Maybe he just meant actually having it spelled out like that, this could be one of those things like relationship boundaries that normal people didn't think needed to be explicitly stated. "Well, yes, obviously... You mean no one ever taught you what your priorities are supposed to be?"

"Um...not like that, like a bloody list, just— What about thinking for yourself?!"

...Obviously you had to work out how specific situations should be interpreted and therefore what your immediate and long-term objectives were for yourself, but she didn't think that was what Jamie meant. It was too obvious. "What about it? I don't understand."

"What if you wanted to, I don't know, put fulfilling your vows ahead of your own survival?"

"If you're that serious about a vow, you swear it on your life or your magic, so they're the same thing. Or do you mean like marrying out? Obviously there are different priorities, then, because your relationship with the House changes. Same for swearing fealty to another individual, like Bella did with de Mort. And if you really want to, you can say fuck it — it's not like you're compelled to follow those priorities. But it's not something to do lightly." There was a reason it was kind of a big deal when Nash and Danny followed Bella into the War. "Like when I broke the Family Magic over the summer — damaging the foundations of the House itself goes against what should have been my top priority, if I were being a good little Black. I fully expected to get disowned over it, because I was acting like I was already outside of the House."

Jamie was blinking again, slightly open-mouthed.

"What?"

"It's just— You— How can you live like that?"

"Er...I think it's pretty straightforward?" That was kind of the entire point. Being generally unambiguous and decisive, especially in situations where you had to make decisions right now, not sit around and dither over them for hours...

James ran his fingers through his hair, clearly frustrated. "No, I mean, what about trying to be a good person? What about doing what's right, even at your own expense? Holding life sacred, and protecting the weak, and upholding laws and civil order and– and honour and fairness, and—"

Urgh, she knew exactly what she should say to that (what any of her cousins would say, not just Bella) — everybody has to die sometime; fuck the weak, we protect our own; laws are for other people; blind adherence to civil order promotes stagnation; that chivalric dragonshite you call honour gets you killed; and fairness? is that a joke? or are you actually delusional? — but that would be completely unhelpful as an answer to a legitimate question, which she kind of thought that was. "That's all personal preference. When choices aren't life or death, and don't conflict with any vows or obligations, you can do whatever you think is the right thing to do, for whatever reasons. But since this is a life-or-death choice, you don't get that luxury."

"Having moral principles is not a luxury, Sirius! Doing the right thing isn't a luxury!"

Aster groaned. "If you mean doing the right thing like having your priorities in order, doing the advantageous, objectively correct thing, no, it's not. But that's not what you mean, you mean aesthetic shite, like killing is bad and follow the law — except you don't always, and I have no idea how you decide when it's okay not to — and do whatever you're not going to feel bad about later, and—"

"Not killing people is not 'aesthetic shite', Sirius!"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't mean you should go around killing people, I'm just saying, if I had to kill someone to protect you—" Jamie opened his mouth, probably to object to her being weirdly obsessed with him, so she added, "—or Dorea, or, I don't know, my partner, assuming the Aurors let me in, or whoever, I might try to find a way to do it without killing — like I wasn't actually trying to kill Snape, there were less extreme ways to remove him from Hogwarts — but if I had to I would, and feeling bad or guilty for doing a bad thing or doing something wrong would be silly. It's aesthetic because the right thing — the correct, advantageous thing — is protecting your allies. How exactly you do it, whether you kill whoever's threatening them or find another way is just...not nearly as important, like a secondary objective in a war game. It might make you happier to do it a certain way, but that's about what you feel is right — harmonious.

"Like Bella was saying last night about taking your word that taking your word for things is wrong — it can be harmonious-right to try to be a good person, adopt your morals and politics, or whatever, but disadvantageous-wrong to follow your lead if you're not sure where you're going. Which, I definitely still trust your judgment on moral shite, but you really, really don't have your priorities in order if you think it's a good idea to report Evans and force Bella to kill you."

Jamie gaped at her. "Force her—?! So, if Bellatrix kills me, it's my fault? What kind of sick, twisted world do you live in?"

"I just explained this! Bella has recognised Evans as de Mort's daughter, and therefore her daughter, i.e. part of her House. If you demonstrate that you pose a lethal threat to a member of her House, she will eliminate that threat — which is the right thing for her to do, objectively. I'm not saying she should kill you, but Bella's preference is to fulfil her obligations as efficiently and effectively as possible, which means she will consider killing you to be a perfectly harmonious option...

"...Which means that if you don't swear not to report Evans, I'm pretty sure I'm obligated to knock you the fuck out and drag you to de Mort to make you forget you found out Evans is a necromancer in the first place."

"You...what?! Sirius, what the hell...?"

"You report Evans, Bella kills you — direct consequence. You're—" basically my liege lord "—an ally, I'm supposed to make sure you don't get yourself killed unless...well, honestly, I'd probably ignore any higher priorities in this case, because I like you a hell of a lot more than anyone in the House, so that's not important. And making sure you stay alive is a hell of a lot more important than your preference for turning in even harmless black mages, and my preference to not piss you off. Therefore, I have to stop you from reporting Evans. And since you're a stubborn fucking bastard, if you don't promise not to tell, I can't trust you not to tell, so forcefully modifying your memory or killing you is pretty much the only way to guarantee you won't, and one of those options would be entirely counterproductive." She thought that last bit went without saying, but just in case.

James's exhausted, hung-over expression of disbelief slowly morphed into horror as she spoke, which was...not good. Not at all. "You're...fucking psychotic, Sirius! Do you even— I need to write Mum. Right now."

She flinched, but refused to back down. This is important, Jamie! "No, you need to swear that you're not going to report Evans, and then you can go write to Dorea. And I'm not psychotic, you're delusional."

"I am not delusional! I— How can you not understand how insane you sound?!"

"How can you not understand that if you threaten Evans you're voluntarily involving yourself in the fucking shit-storm that is the Black–de Mort alliance?! You're walking straight into crazy person territory thinking— Well, I have no idea what you're thinking, but I'm betting at least part of it is Bella wouldn't really kill me. You're wrong. She will. She murders children, James. Children who have done nothing to earn it! She doesn't care that your father is a Lord of the Wizengamot, or that your mother was a Black, or that I love you, she will kill you."

"Okay, I'm leaving now, Sirius," he said firmly, edging toward the door.

Aster blocked it. "Promise me you're not going to report Evans, first!"

"What? No, Sirius, you're being ridiculous! Get out of the way!" he demanded, wand in hand, as though he actually stood a chance of forcing his way past her.

"No, this is for your own good!"

"Don't make me curse y—"

She disarmed him with a quick flick of her wand — they were only a couple of meters apart, he didn't have time to dodge, let alone cast a shield — and a flat glare. "Promise, Jamie."

"Siri..."

"Look, just humour me, please!"

"Fine! Yes! I promise! Now, can I go?"

She stepped aside, gesturing toward the door and presenting his wand to him with a slightly mocking bow. He snatched it with a churlish scowl, as though his being disarmed wasn't entirely his fault, pulling a wand on someone he wasn't prepared to actually hurt.

"Yes. Thank you. That's all I wanted." Well, that wasn't all she had wanted, she'd wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe tell him that it wasn't wrong for her to follow his lead on the whole being a good person front, but making sure that he wasn't going to run off and commit suicide by Bellatrix was also kind of important. Talking about everything else could wait, at least until after he wasn't feeling like complete shite. He'd probably be in a better mood then, anyway.

He stalked past her, watching her warily from the corner of his eye as he did, and immediately turned to head back toward Gryffindor.

"Did you forget we have Potions?"

"Um, no. Tell Slughorn I'm not feeling well or something, I don't care." He hurried away down the corridor without even the briefest farewell, abandoning her to face the horrid tedium of Potions alone. (Maybe she could work with Snape, since Evans wasn't coming either — he'd probably do everything rather than let her ruin his potion. Yes, that sounded like a plan...) Probably actually was going to write Dorea, she figured, but that was fine. Dorea would understand that Aster wasn't actually being insane about this, probably be glad she'd saved her stupid son's arse from getting murdered.

If Aster was really lucky, she'd tell Jamie as much, too.