The silence was overwhelming. Regulus' face felt as though it were made of stone, his features were carved into a nonchalant expression of indifference as his eyes absorbed the brutal image before him. The weight of his parents gaze was monumental and bore holes into his stiff back. A silent warning to not react. To show no weakness. The screaming had finally come to end as The Dark Lord finally released the young muggle prostitute from the painful grasp of the Cruciatus Curse. The young Black heir watched as the handsome man adorned in a set of deep emerald robes crouched deeply besides the young woman. He watched as a cruel smirk slithered onto his face; regulus observed Voldemort as he continued his show of torment. Before long the screaming began again. He felt his mothers hand raise to his shoulder and grip tightly; large gashes began to appear all over the muggles body and before long the pool of blood began to spread. He felt the blood seep over the tip of his shiny oxfords as the woman's screams began to reduce to silence once again, she had bled to death on the hard floors of the Dark Lords Manor.
After what seemed like centuries, Regulus felt his mother push him slightly in the direction of the dark lord who seemed to be leading the small group of purebloods into a large dining room. The room, although lit with a grand fire felt just as cold as the front reception room. With high ceilings and large windows the room was exceptionally large; a colossal dinning table dominated the room, it must have been at least eighteen seats and Voldemort made a beeline for head of the table. The rest of the group made way to stand behind the high-back dining chairs, waiting for the nod to be seated. It came before long, and the screaming of the chairs being pulled out filled the room. Regulus was situated between both his mother and father. Bellatatrix, who sat opposite her younger cousin, smirked at the sixteen year old boy, her hand came to lay on the forearm of her newly arrange fiancé, the large emerald ring - a sign of wealth and representation of the black family, the ring it's self had sat upon Druella Blacks ring finger for nearly two decades, and now it was placed proudly on the left hand of her eldest daughter. Bellatrix like himself was still at Hogwarts, in September she and Andromeda would be entering their last year at Hogwarts, for himself and Narcissa, who were both preparing for their sixth year, there were still two year to go until the freedom of adulthood graced him with its kind presents of full independence. For narcissa however, regulus knew that for her she would move from a prison of academia to a fortress of married life. Social events, heirs, Tea party's, Balls, and everything else that was expected of a newly married young pureblood witch. Regulus was aware of the contract that was currently being created between The Malfoy's and the Blacks, Narcissa would be engaged before the start of her seventh year. Although the petite blonde herself wasn't here, her future husband, Lucius sat but mere inches from him. The man himself was sat beside Rodolphus Lestrange, chatting quietly. The Malfoy's, although a long line of Pureblood slytherins, often sported robes of either deep navy's or icy blues- the latter being brought out in the summer months. It wasn't uncommon for a pureblood family to wear the colours of the family crest- The Blacks were always seen in deep emerald, the Malfoy's in royal blues and the Lestrange's in silky purples. It was common knowledge that each family of the sacred twenty eight often chose a particular colour to represent the family- not many are sure why. The Sacred Twenty Eight are a collection of the purest and wealthiest families in the wizarding world- the title it's self only acted as barrier between classes, you see even in the wizarding world, the class system dominated.
The dinner went quickly, having being served some of the best food money could buy, regulus' stomach still felt empty, he watched dazed as his mother re-told the encounter with the 'strange woman' in Madame Malkine's earlier on that day. His Aunt; Druella, (who sat in the middle of Ladies Aurelia Avery and Genevieve Nott) sighed.
"Oh Wallburgur, these half bloods are infiltrating society like a infection , and I thought mudbloods were bad, not only do they steal our magic but our pure wizards as well, a half-blood is the result of a monstrosity, I'm glad we come from a pure family sister." Druellas gloves hand reached out with some sort of hidden pity.
"Well that's the thing, she must have been a pureblood, the way she spoke, the way she dressed and her beauty, it's unparalleled to anything I've seen before." Regulus' head shot in the direction of his mother, the woman in question was all he'd heard all afternoon, having caught the attention of the young men of Pura Scriptor's Gentleman's club earlier on in the day.
"Well what was she buying? Madame Malkines is school robes, you can't be suggesting that Dumbledores taken on a transfer student."
"I think that's exactly what he's done, the girl must have come from Beaubaxton's, Genevieve you have good connections Madam Maxine, prehaps you could find out, after all this girl could be a threat to our daughters and particularly the contracts being assembled as we speak." Druella shot a look at the door in the far corner of the room, before lowering her voice. "We can't let anything come between Narcissa and Lucius, this marriage is essential."
"How much damage can one insignificant girl do Druella?" And in that moment, Walburga had fallen right into Larissa trap, for the underestimated thrived off the one thing these people valued more than anything; pride.
*
Larissa didn't know it was possible to feel the harsh grips of anxiety while sleeping, but the undeniable fact was she'd have to face the one woman she'd always dreamt of meeting, Marlene McKinnon. Very few things scared the young woman currently sat at the old vanity, but the heartbreaking fact that Marlene would spend the next few months crossing paths with the dark haired witch not truly knowing who she is, broke her. Any orphan would kill to spend time with their dead mother, but the ever growing weight of this task began to set in. Pulling her hair into a ponytail, Larissa shook of the thoughts of Marlene, and prepared herself for the day.
The cold tiles of the bathroom under her bare feet sent chills up Larissa's already unsettled body, with a small movement of her fingers the bath began to run, the circular room began to fill with rose scented steam, Larissa shrugged the silky robe off, letting the French fabric pool around her ankles. Stepping out of it, she moved lightly towards the ornate mirror, letting her eyes meet her reflection. Dark curly hair pulled on top of its self to form some sort of bun; the ponytail definitely wasn't working, thin slender shoulder of milky white blended into arms which blended into long fingers. Larissa's body was both a gift and a curse, full breasts which moulded into an abnormally small waist were often sought after by every type of man, and envied by all women. After years of battling the issues she seemed to always find with her perfection, always wanting thicker thighs, or a normal sized waist, to be able to walk down the street of London and not feel like a piece of expensive meat envied or desired by every person she caught eye contact with. Larissa learnt that her body wasn't the result of riding or running or even dancing, she'd come to realise the twisted truth that despite everything she'd ever been told was a lie, her beauty wasn't a gift, it wasn't built from a healthy lifestyle of continuous amount of exercise or even magical face cream; she'd come to learn over many years of confusion that her body was a curse, it was a catalyst that attracted strange men after the sun set, it made even the most professionals doctors hands to wander where they shouldn't. But in the end Larissa learnt that the things most beautiful on the outside seemed to be the most broken on the inside.
Letting her hands wander over her shoulder, Larissa turned a hundred and eighty degrees, and let her fingers brush over the B on her shoulder, it was simply a birthmark, but it represented so much more. From what her father had told her the mark only appears on the true pure blooded members of the Black family, she certainly couldn't allow anyone to see it. Turning away from the mirror Larissa turned the now full bath off, and stepped back into the bedroom, collecting her wand off the vanity, she quickly returned to the mirror. Wafting the wand over the birthmark Larissa tried every skin transfiguration spell, every spell she knew that covered marks and bruises but the little brown B still sat proudly on her shoulder blade. Sighing she turned and submerged herself in the flowery bath.
The day of the first of September went just as Larissa hoped, having managed to find several old books and a few rolls of parchment, she transfigured them into everything she needed to catch the last few rays of summer as they creeped over the picturesque grounds of Hogwarts, trapping them on the large canvas that sat gently on the easel.
She had ventured out quickly earlier on in the day to acquire something to fill her stomach, finding her way to the broad stone basement corridor, brightly lit and decorated with food-themed paintings she found the oily painting of the fruit bowl and tickled slightly at the pear, before her own eyes the pear giggled and transformed the entire painting into a dark greed door with a large elaborate handle. Stepping into the kitchen she soon attracted the house elf's.
'Good morning missus, what can vipsy do for you" a smaller house elf dressed in what seemed to be a pillow case dreadfully sewn into a half made apron.
"An eggs Benedict would be lovely please Vipsy, with a pot of English breakfast and one tea cup on the side" the elf smiled and nodded her head enthusiastically, before she could turn to make Larissa her breakfast, the witch bent down to the elf's height. Before the small kitchen elf could open it's tiny mouth Larissa waved her wand and watched as dirty pillowcase transfigured into a small, made to fit apron with a large white pocket on front, and a halter neck tie and a black button to hold it in place. Upon recognition the elf's face lit up.
"Oh thank you missus, thank you so much, Vipsy can never repay missus kindness!"
"Well you could start by addressing me as miss Black, or Larissa I go by either" she smile kindly, not giving her words too much thought; for now.
"Vipsy is so grateful missus Black! Vipsy will get missus her breakfast now, would missus like her breakfast in her room?" The elf ask quickly, the young witch simply nodded with a smile and quickly returned to her room.
The sun was setting quickly and before Larissa knew it she was packing up her things and changing into her new robes. Taking a seat at the plush chair beside the vanity Larissa slipped out her wand from one of the inner pockets of her robe. Larissa knew her appearance was an issue, the Black Family had distinct features that passed through generations, and unfortunately to her. It would only take a little while before her peers began to put the dots together. So sighing she leaned forward and slowly ran her wand over her features. Her reflection began to change, what was once black hair became ash white, her sharp cheekbones softened slightly and her once porcelain skin, darkened slightly to match the French girls she had once called classmates. It felt odd to have a stranger staring back at you in the mirror, twisting a strand of white hair through her fingers, she pulled the curls apart slightly before bringing her wand up once again to her hair before twisting it in to a complicated Half and half french twist- a hairstyle her grandmother had shown her, and made her practice many times.
Dumbledore said the student would arrive around eight, which gave her little over forty-five minutes before the sorting. The forty-five minutes seemed to drag and the wooden floors in front of the four poster bed seemed to have worn down from Larissa's uneasy pacing, but before long she heard the light tap of McGonagall at the wooden door, alerting her that the students had arrived.
Opening the heavy door with a little magic, Larissa stepped out in the full feast attire, her long black coat just reached the floor and was fastened together with the silver emblem of Hogwarts. The tie pin which sat comfortably among onyx satin of her tie, was similar just smaller in size. Her hair which had been charmed using the spell Wallburga had made her perfect, was twisted intricately into a a french hairstyle made up of small braids and twisted sections of the hair all woven neatly into a beautiful bun sat halfway down her head, a white layer of hair left untouched underneath. Wispy curls framed the sides of her face, her eyes were neutrally done, with only a light swipe of mascara on her eyelashes.
Minerva smiled down kindly at the girl. "Professor Dumbledore has suggested that it might be easier to adjust what you need to adjust regarding one of my Gryffindor, the Gryffindor luggage is stored in a room off of the entrance hall, you'll be able to find what you need there. There's quite a few first years that need sorting so I suggest you go now, and then head towards the great hall for your sorting once your finished." She smiled once again and lay a gentle hand on her shoulder before turning and heading down to the entrance hall to greet the first years.
Larissa didn't wait long before she followed after Minerva, her shoes echoing through the dimly lit corridor. Upon approaching the large entrance to the old castle, Larissa's ears were filled with the sound of excited eleven years olds, hanging back out of site she observed McGonagall giving her annual speech on the top step of the stone staircase, the older witch was dressed in her traditional robes of green and black, her hair tied in an intricate plaited bun, in a half and half fashion. It wasn't too long before the head of Gryffindor house led the first years into the Great Gall, and Larissa managed to slip into one of the rooms just off the entrance.
Like most rooms in the castle, this was no different, dark and damp, the only source of light coming from a singular flame in the centre of the room. As she examined closer she took in the sheer amount of luggage the students of Hogwarts managed to bring. Without wasting time, she summoned the map with a light accio, it felt fresher, the yellowed paper was still white with no creases or tea marks. Mumbling ' I solemnly swear I'm up to no good' ink began to leak from her wand on to the parchment and before long the outline of Hogwarts was staring back at her.
It didn't take long to change her last name on the map, the magic her father and his friends had used was strong, but evidently not strong enough as the bold name of Larissa Baudelaire shon up at her.
*
Sirius watched bored as the sorting hat screamed a house for each new student that sat nervously on the rickety wooden stool, out of habit he let his fingers pick at the white buttons holding together the cuffs of his shirt. Rolling the white linen up half way, he let his forearms rest on the wooden table. James, who sat next to him was chatting loudly across the table to Remus and Peter, who watched him with slight amusement.
"Lad's this is it, this is the year, Dumbledore knows, he just knows me and Lily are destined to be together, to join two lost soulmates, otherwise he would have never of given me the title of head boy, I mean-
" James." The head boy's mouth stopped moving at the interpretation.
"I do not think the headmaster gave you the title of head boy to simply set you and Lily up, your going to have to really show dumbledore that you-" but Remus never got to finish his sentence before the sound of the heavy doors to the great hall were opened for a second time that evening. The disruptive sound of the entrance managed to capture all eyes. Small whispers soon filled the hall as the woman began the decent down the centre of the historic hall. As she passed them, remus noticed her impressive posture, as if a plank of wood was strapped to her back, her eyes remained levelled, unbothered. From across the table he could see Sirius' eyes narrow darkly at the back of the girls head, the grey eyes of Sirius Blacks eyes began to bounce between his estranged brother and the girl who'd made it to the wooden stool.
"Sirius. Oi" he hit the other boy on the arm, drawing his attention back to the table, Remus wasn't the only one to pick up on Sirius' behaviour, as James had stopped wolf whistling lowly and turned to face him.
"Do you know who that is pads?" James asked quietly as he took in the dark look in Sirius' eyes.
"No. Not a fucking clue."
"Well, I can't be the only one here, moony, wormy, that agrees it certainly looks as though you do. Why in Merlin's balls are you looking at her like she's satan's spawn herself, we don't even know her, she might be the newest addition to Gryffindor!" James exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Hate to break it to you Prongs, but I can smell a Slytherin from a mile away, and look at that hair, definitely a Malfoy. I know where she's going, and it's not anywhere near us."
"Well we can hope can't we Padfoot. She might not be a Slytherin, hopefully she'll be in Gryffindor!"
"That's the spirit Pete! Your instincts aren't always right Padfoot."
The four lads watched intensively as Dumbledore stood.
"Welcome! Welcome! Before we start, I must welcome nearly all of you back, for we have our new first years sorted, but as I'm sure your all aware the war is spreading through Europe at rapid speed, Miss Larissa Baudelaire, who will be joining us for her last year, has travelled from Beaubaxtons to complete her NEWTS. I hope you all make her feel welcome. Minerva if you will" he gestured to the sorting hat, which was gently placed on Larissa's head.
It surprisingly took a lot longer than anyone anticipated, Sirius himself expected the hat to burst out SLYTHERIN the moment the old fabric touched her head, but as everyone watched with anticipation, Larissa Baudelaire had managed to bag herself a five minute hat stall. Sirius heard Lily attempting to tell everyone how rare a hat-stall of five minutes was but eventually the hat did indeed scream out 'SLYTHERIN' and the house decorated in emeralds burst into applause accepting their new house member with pride. But as Sirius watched the woman seat herself beside his cousin, Andromeda, curiously her eyes remained on the headmaster who raised his goblet at the new Slytherin, who returned his gesture subtly. Unconsciously Sirius' eyebrows drew together darkly as he questioned what had threatened the safety of the young pureblood witch so much that it forced her to move to a different country, but more importantly what role did she play in the war that was destroying the Wizarding world.