The Big Dipper

The Kidnap at King's Cross

Ursula threw her slightly smoking gloves onto her desk — she had spent the last hour dealing with a Peruvian Vipertooth's throat infection — and called for Sirius, as she had installed a mirror in Black Manor for this very purpose.

"What's up?" asked Sirius, hurrying into view. Responsibility — and being out of his childhood home — suited him. He seemed a lot happier working at Black Manor and, from what she had last heard, had taken up gardening. But that was not why she was calling him, as he could tell from the storm brewing in her eyes.

"I want to talk to Remus," said Ursula. "Please fetch him."

Sirius didn't protest. The mirror went cloudy, but Ursula was willing to wait. Half an hour later, Sirius appeared, with a guilt-ridden Remus at his side.

"Explain yourself," said Ursula coldly, crossing her arms.

"I — I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks," said Remus, not meeting her eyes. "I did it against my better judgment and have regretted it very much ever since."

"Liar," said Ursula. "You fucking liar."

"See, that's what I —" began Sirius, but Ursula held up her hand to silence him.

"Please do not interrupt," she said. "Remus John Lupin, all of your self pity has to stop. You know full well that Tonks is the best bloody thing to ever happen to you, and if I thought for a second that you weren't enough for her, I would've stopped the wedding myself. If everyone else can accept it, why can't you?"

"We were — I was happy," defended Remus, exclaiming, "But a child... I've made them both outcasts! You of all people should know how most of the Wizarding world treats people like me! You don't understand the responsibility —"

"Don't lecture me about responsibility!" roared Ursula, and suddenly she was on her feet, fury blazing in her eyes, her hands flat on her desk.

The effect of her exclamation was immediate. Remus at least had the grace to look cowed, embarrassed, and Sirius looked unusually, well, serious.

"I love her," admitted Remus in a small voice. "I love them both... so, so much."

"Don't tell me that," spat Ursula. "Show her. And stop being so fucking selfish."

She sat back in her chair as the mirror went dark, until only her own reflection was staring back at her. Her grey eyes were particularly stormy today.

Things didn't get any better for Ursula the next day. She was behind on reading the Daily Prophet, busy as she was, but when she saw the four-day-old article at breakfast, she swore under her breath.

"What is it?" asked Charlie, halfway through a piece of bacon.

"'The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called 'Muggleborns' to better understand how they came to possess magical secrets,'" read Ursula. "'Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggleborn is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force. The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggleborn to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggleborn Registration Commission.'"

"That's horrifying," murmured Charlie, taking the newspaper from her.

"I knew it was coming," said Ursula bitterly. "I just never imagined it would be this bad."

"What can people do?" said Charlie. "If they can't fake their ancestry, what then? What happens to them?"

"I wish I knew," said Ursula.