Corrupted Souls | remus lupin

p-b-q

As time wore on, however, the numbers dwindled. Many blamed it on the increasing acceptance of muggle-borns, whose presence had undeniably brought on a societal shift. They rejected the traditional values of what it meant to be magical, and as they began to take up jobs in The Ministry, laws were rewritten.

Records of one's blood purity were no longer public, and extensive permissions had to be obtained in order to view someone's file. The close-knit attitude of the wizarding world came to a screeching halt when drastic measures were taken against nepotism, not allowing close relatives to hire one another in The Ministry, no matter how qualified they were. This caused rifts between families, and for the well-connected it actually became more difficult to find respectable employment.

While most of the wizarding world saw this as a step in the right direction, they forgot about the families they were leaving behind - families who had done nothing but protect the integrity of magic. It felt like a slap in the face, and as the Sacred Twenty-Eight began to feel pressure to prove their worth to society once more, three children became the normal, and then two, and maybe even one. They became more strategic in marriages so that their sons and daughters would have the best chance at securing jobs, and despite the fact that they still sat on the wealth their ancestors had accumulated over the centuries, income had grown somewhat stagnant.

They were not suffering by any means, but the changing climate frightened them to no end. Strength typically came in numbers, but their population was dwindling faster than ever. The rise and fall of Grindelwald had only made matters worse; many of The Sacred Twenty-Eight sought out the power that the madman had promised, only to either die or cast their name into an ugly light.

This is why the Potter family - and other 'blood traitors' - were hated so fervently by their own kind. While they could have helped the others (many of them being related in some way or another) reclaim a sense of dignity, they decided to fully embrace the new age.

Septimus Weasley even had the nerve to protest his family's inclusion in Cantankerous Nott's Pure-Blood Directory.

Thus Neoma's grandfather, a crotchety sod, was certainly rolling in his grave as Arthur Weasley, his wife, Molly, and their five red-headed children arrived at the Potter's barbecue, greeting Fleamont and Euphemia joyously. Sirius and Neoma took their places soon after.

"Neoma Nott, my chosen parents. Parents: Neoma Nott," Sirius introduced, giving Euphemia a dramatic kiss on the cheek. She swatted him away, smiling at the girl softly.

"Hello, dear. I'm Euphemia."

"And I'm Fleamont -" the Potter patriarch stuck out his hand, which Neoma shook. The skin around his eyes creased as his grin widened. "Never thought I'd see a Nott here on purpose, but I suppose life still holds surprises for an old man like me."

"Very nice to meet you both," she awkwardly greeted, glancing up at Sirius who winked at her. "Thanks for having me."

"Oh, any time dear! A friend of James is a friend of ours," Fleamont wove a dismissive hand. "We let a Black into our house, after all, and look at him now! A second son, he is." Fleamont ruffled Sirius's hair, which now stuck up in a manner of different directions. "Sirius, wanna go pull out the quaffles? I can already see Arthur's children growing restless."

"Handfuls those ones are," Euphemia chuckled, shaking her head. "James was bad enough - cried all the time if he wasn't given every ounce of our attention."

"Sounds like James," Neoma agreed, laughing.

"Well, let's grab some balls then," Sirius smirked, earning a smack on the arm from Euphemia before he pulled Neoma away toward a little shed not too far off.