It is the eve of December twentieth.
Despite the gloomy, cold and lifeless look of Blacktide Castle from the outside, the inside had been decorated to feel far more festive. Yuletide is not a traditional celebration of the British wizards and witches. In fact, many of their celebrations at the end of the year were adopted and evolved to be far less than the traditions practiced by the northern counterparts and is often celebrated along with the Muggle Christmas.
Today, the castle had been dressed for it accordingly. Towering fir trees strung with silver baubles and drifting motes of enchanted snow fell from the ceiling and dissolved before they touched the floor. Holly and mistletoe wound along the stone archways, and strings of fairies glittering gold and green where ordinary lights might have hung. Candles floated near the high ceilings, filling the halls with warm, flickering light, and somewhere further in, a suit of armor could be heard murmuring its way through a carol, although slightly out of tune.
Arcturus did not so much as glance at the decorations, his attention drawn instead of the furniture and fixtures. He took it with clear approval. At last, the inside of this place looked precisely as one would expect from a residence befitting of someone of the House of Black's stature, especially the heir and his family. He must admit; Sirius has done well with the s-class moonstones he gave him.
Tonight, Sirius and Esme opted to host a family dinner on the eve of Yule. It is too intense outside (blizzard) to do bonfires, so the entire family are hosted it in the great hall of the castle. At the center of the stood the true heart of the Blacktide Yuletide – the hearth itself. It was large enough to hold the whole of assembled family with room to spare but it felt intimate rather than grand.
The massive Yule log burned in the open hearth, the fire tended carefully to last the night as expected of tradition. Thick carpets and heaps of cushions circled the hearth closest to the flame. The design seems to cater for the youngest members of the family. And beyond them a ring of Victorian sofas and high-backed chairs completed the space. Upholstered in deep rich fabric that caught the firelight. The whole arrangement was clearly designed for people to sit, have a conversation, to linger and build relationships.
Further back, a long table ran the length of the hall laden with food. And off to one side, almost as an afterthought rather than the main centerpiece, stood the Christmas tree. Tall, glittering and thoroughly decorated but clearly not the point of the room. At its base, wrapped gifts had gathered in an untidy, cheerful pile clearly marked for the children's joy rather than the adults.
Melania was very thrilled with the design. As the matriarch of the family, she had spent decades hosting the sort of Yule galas the House of Black was known for before their years of silence. It was glittering, formal affairs and it was more about being seen than being seen together. Sirius does not seem to have any interest in that. He preferred something smaller and warmer. "A celebration for family", he told his grandmother, and Melania did not realize, until now, how much more meaningful it was to celebrate with only family instead of making a performance to show the world.
Of course, this was also the moment Sirius and Esme decided to introduce the children to the family. Although Sirius had sent an informal invitation, a proper, hierarchical introduction was still required—starting, naturally, with Pollux and Irma Black.
"Grandfather. Grandmother. I'm sure you're already aware, but this is my wife, Esmeralda Clarisse Black, nee Malfoy. She prefers to be called Esme." Sirius introduced Esme to his other grandfather, Pollux Black, and grandmother, Irma Black nee Crabbe.
"Bonjour, Mister Black. Mrs. Black." Esme dropped a small curtsy. Not the deep, formal bow the occasion might have called for a true society function but lighter, casual, but not careless.
Both Pollux and Irma nodded in approval. Finally, Sirius has allowed them to meet his wife and children, after months of silence. When they'd received the invitation for a Yuletide family dinner, they had both been elated. Arcturus had already claimed first meeting with the children, even though both he and Pollux were equally their great-grandfathers. But Pollux was not head of the House and Sirius had been keeping the rest of the family at arm's length which in Pollux's opinion is a bit excessive, but he did not point it out. Arcturus was clear that no arguments or jabs would be tolerated, especially today of all days. Though Pollux suspected that rule had been made far more for Cassiopeia's benefit than his own.
"And this is Rigel, my eldest. Corvus, his twin. Lyra, and Alphard." Sirius gestured to each child in turn. "Children, this is your other great-grandfather and great-grandmother, from my mother's side. Pollux and Irma Black. Say hello."
A ragged chorus of hellos and bonjours followed – and then, cutting through it, one small voice. "Hi, Grandpa Polly and Grandma Irma."
Arcturus who was sitting a few seats away, nearly choked on his tea. This was worse than when Lyra called him Grandpa Artie. That girl has a knack of giving people nicknames – one of the quirks she clearly inherited from her own father. He heard from Sirius that Lyra already called Lucius, "Uncle Lucy".
Pollux eyebrows twitched being addressed that way. He did not expect his great-granddaughter to greet him quiet like that.
"It's Grandpa Pollux." He said, trying to correct her without sounding too harsh.
The girl just blink. "But Polly sounds better." She said with such certainty that it was clear the matter was final and no argument would be entertained. Such a hardheaded child. Pollux frowned at the thought.
The snickers could be heard behind him. Pollux turned and glared at Marius and Arcturus, both now covering their mouths, failing to hide their laughter.
Sirius can only hold the twitch on his lips.
"Well." Pollux started as he turned back to Sirius. "She has her mother's look and your brazenness, apparently". He looked at Sirius, who just shrugged, smiling at him.
Cassiopeia was introduced next.
She dropped into a curtsy that was by her standards, remarkably restrained. She was obviously given instructions to behaved. However, her smile did not quiet reach her eyes.
"Esmeralda." She said, testing the name in her tongue. "How lovely. A Malfoy. Again." The word carried more weight than the sentence needed. "Three in the family now." She glanced at Ophelia and Lucius on the other side of the room. "Though I do wonder what took you so long, Sirius. One would think —".
"Cassiopeia." Arcturus warned behind her.
Cassiopeia's mouth closed with visible effort. She smoothed her robes instead. The movement sharp and slightly too controlled. She clearly uncomfortable with the position but decided against it. Arcturus has in depth warned them if they act out of turn in today's event especially towards the children, they will face severe punishment. They were Sirius' boundaries and they had to honor them or else they will lose access to him and the children.
Speaking of the children. Rigel offered a polite hello. Corvus added a small wave. Alphard, from the safety of Esme's hip, studied Cassiopeia with the grave suspicion he reserved for anyone he deemed unworthy, which was odd coming from him. Considering Alphard tends to take an instant shine to nearly every gray-haired relative he'd met so far.
Lyra said nothing at all.
She was staring at her. Her gray eyes fixed on Cassiopeia. She did not look away when Cassiopeia's gaze caught hers. The silence stretched a beat too long to be comfortable.
"Why," Cassiopeia said slowly, something in her voice caught between unease and offense, "is she looking at me like that?"
"Lyra?" Sirius' voice, careful. "Don't stare, love."
Lyra did not stop staring.
The tension in the room shifted, subtle but unmistakable to anyone who had known Cassiopeia long enough to read her. Melania's had tightened on Arcturus' arm. Marius went very still. Arcturus did not move at all. He has spent decades managing his cousin's unpredictability and is watching for any signs of she would break.
"Oiseau," Esme said quietly, a gentle warning though she did not sound certain she meant it as one. Sirius had warned him about the volatility of his great Aunt Cassiopeia many times so she was worried.
Lyra tilted her head. "There's a man following you." Her little voiced carried into the room.
"Wh-what?" This caught Cassiopeia off guard. She looked like she wanted to ask more. "What does that mean?"
Sirius moved first. Lifting Lyra onto his hip in one smooth motion.
"Right," he said, pitched to carry, bright and entirely unbothered. "I think that's quite enough introductions for this corner. We should hurry on to the others." And he started moving fast, away from Cassiopeia.
"But there is a man following her." Lyra insisted while Sirius tried, unsuccessfully, to cover his daughter's mouth.
Cassiopeia said nothing further, but her eyes followed the girl long after Sirius had carried her off toward the rest of the room, narrowed with something that had not been there a moment before — not quite fear, not quite curiosity, but wariness. There was something odd about that girl. She thought. Arcturus on the other hand, glanced at Cassiopeia. He is the only other family member outside of Sirius, Esme and Regulus who knows that Lyra is a medium. So, who is following Cassiopeia?
"We will talk about this later, my little spitfire. But let's first meet the other family members."
Lucretia Black and her husband, Lord Ignatius Prewett, were next. Sirius's aunt smiled when Sirius introduced Esme and the children, though there was something wistful behind the smile. Her gaze lingering on each small face a beat too long, warm in a way that edged toward longing.
Ignatius noticed. Lucretia had never quite managed to hide it from him, not in all their years together, and he doubted she ever would. They had never had children of their own. There had been a time, early in their marriage, when the signs of infertility had first become clear, and his family had made their opinion of it known plainly enough. Divorce her, they said, take another wife who could give the House of Prewett an heir. He had refused, every time it was raised, because he loved her a great deal more than he had ever cared for the idea of an heir. Ignatius does not need an heir. But it doesn't change the fact that he and Lucretia did want children but were never blessed with one.
But the succession was still an issue. In the beginning, he has already set his brother and his brother's sons to carry the Prewett headship if anything were to happen to him and that itself has provided some relief about the concerns of succession for years/
But his brother was gone now, and his nephews killed during the war. There was no one left of that branch that could inherit the family name. His niece, Molly, had married into the Weasleys and had wanted little to do with the family she had come from. He wasn't even invited to her wedding. No one really knows why Molly hated her birth family. Ignatius has reached out many times, but he was refused. After all, Molly's children are the last hope for the Prewett family.
Marius and Ophelia did not need any introduction to the children. The children greeted them with the same enthusiasm they always have when faced with their favorite great great uncle and great aunt. But the two elders were not alone. They brought their family with them.
"You already met her Sirius. This is my granddaughter, Rosea Finch," Marius said, drawing forward a woman in her thirties with careful, watchful smile. "And her husband, Douglas Fletchley." And then his voice softened at the young boy currently holding on his mother's skirt while watching all the flying objects all around the room. "And this young man is Justin."
Five-year-old Justin stood very straight beside his parents that suggested he'd been coached extensively on the walk over. Douglas stood a half step behind, his gaze moving carefully around the hall – the floating candles, the carol murmuring suit of armor – the general, unmistakable evidence of not just a wealthy old family but magic in general.
Douglas had not believed magic existed at all. Not until his wife told him about it after Justin accidentally turned their lawn bright pink. Rosea had no choice but to introduce him to the "magical side" of her family to prove it. For a time, he had genuinely believed she'd lost her mind. It was only afterward, as someone of noble blood himself, that he learned the truth ran deeper than he'd ever suspected. A good portion of what passed for "Muggle" nobility carried magical descent somewhere in their line, and had, for generations, played their own quiet part in keeping magic hidden from the general population. Marius had since confirmed something further. That for a child, like Justin to show magic this early, both sides of his parentage would need magical blood in them, which was precisely why his abilities were surfacing.
Justin showing signs of accidental magic all over the house so they decided to pull him off school and have him tutored at home, worried that his magic might hurt somebody or himself. Better to be in the house where they can monitor him. So, Marius and Ophelia decided to invite them to meet the rest of the family. This way, Justin could get early exposure to the magical world that could have given him some advantage once he received the acceptance letter to a magical school.
But what he didn't expect is how, the Black family, were like royalty in the magical world. Rosea and Sirius already met before and is aware about the situation but not to this extent. Also, they were warned against family members who prejudiced towards non-magical members of the family which include Ophelia Malfoy and before he even got his magical abilities, Marius Black himself.
Most of the family kept a polite distance, exchanging nods before returning to their own conversation. Cassiopeia, still visibly rattled, eyed the newcomers with an open suspicion, as though the Muggle blood they were tainted with might be catching if she stood too close.
Cygnus and Druella were next. Druella inspected each child with the brisk, appraising eye of a woman cataloguing bloodlines out of habit. "Well made, all four." She said and moved on. Cygnus said very little. Though he crouched to Alphard's level and let the boy examined his pocket watch for a full five minutes without complaint.
The silence was disrupted with the Tonks family finally arrived.
"Andromeda." Esme greeted her with the warmth of old habit, leaning in to press a kiss to each cheek. "Tu es resplendissante, comme toujours."
Sirius, meanwhile, greeted Ted with considerably less ceremony with a clap on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kiss you."
Ted snorted. "Don't you dare."
It was Andromeda who drew Esme aside a moment later, murmuring something about wanting a private word. Esme, unbothered, went with her willingly enough. Whatever it was, it clearly was not bad news; there was something too bright in Andromeda's face for that.
Sirius watched them go, brow raised. "What was that about?"
He got his answer soon enough, when Esme's voice carried back across the room. "Félicitations!"
Ted rubbed the back of his neck, looking faintly sheepish under the sudden attention. "Andromeda's pregnant," he admitted. "Almost three months now." He hesitated. "We waited until we were certain — after how difficult it was with Dora; we'd more or less made peace with it being just the one."
"Well — congratulations, man!"
"Thank you."
"Wait — you're going to be a big sister?" Corvus asked, loudly enough that half the room heard him ask it. Everyone in the room heard it.
"Yup!" Dora said, delighted.
Alphard's face crumpled with the betrayal. "You're not our big sister?"
"Of course, I am. But I'm technically your cousin. So—"
That "so" was apparently one word too many. Alphard's lip began to wobble in earnest, right up until Lyra crouched down beside him. "Well, I am your big sister, Alphie."
"I don't want you," Alphard said, with the devastating honesty only a toddler could manage. "You is scary."
"I am not scary." Lyra looked genuinely wounded by the accusation. Rigel and Corvus started giggling which earned them a glare from their sister.
"Oh, boy." Sirius sighed, already moving to intervene before the argument could properly ignite — which, given how often this exact scene played out in one form or another, was by now less a crisis than simply Tuesday.
"Oh, how delightful." Melania smiled, watching the whole small commotion unfold before her — the tears, the squabbling, the sheepish new parents-to-be, all of it. More new members of the family, and so soon after the last.
It was really a beautiful —
"HAPPY YULETIDE EVERYONE!" A booming voice interrupted them as a very festive person entered the room.
"Oh, Xenophilius. Welco—" Sirius started, before he was cut off.
He blinked.
"Orange?" Sirius asked, not entirely sure why that was the word that had come out of him.
Xenophilius Lovegood stood there with a wide grin. The man was, from head to toe, dressed in almost aggressive orange — robes the color of a particularly enthusiastic pumpkin, a scarf that appeared to be knitted from something that glowed faintly of its own accord, and, perched at a precarious angle atop his head, what could only be described as a hat shaped vaguely like a radish. He beamed at the assembled room as though he had walked into the single most welcoming gathering he had ever attended in his life. He stood out considerably in a room where everyone else had settled for the subdued reds, greens, and golds of the season and, in Cassiopeia's case, unrelenting black. Most of the room was, by now, staring at him with open horror.
"Yes, orange," Xenophilius said, entirely unbothered at their looks. "Delightful, isn't it? Orange is a festive color. It brings luck for Yuletide."
"Uh…" Sirius glanced sideways, searching the room for someone — anyone — who might have a more appropriate response than the one currently failing to form in his own head.
He remembered, belatedly, that Esme had wanted the Lovegoods invited in the first place. Pandora came as something of a package deal with her husband and daughter, and Sirius hadn't thought twice about it at the time. They were his wife's family, after all, which made Xenophilius his brother-in-law by extension. What he had entirely failed to account for was just how eccentric one Xenophilius Lovegood could be in practice and that he would do this in front of his own family no less.
Esme, for her part, ignored the entire exchange and made straight for Pandora, who looked a little embarrassed by the whole display. Pandora adored her husband's quirks, truly but there were moments when even she found them a touch much. She had learned, over the years, that nothing on earth could talk Xenophilius out of something once he had set his mind to it, not even the fact that he was currently standing in ghastly orange before one of the oldest and most powerful noble families in Great Britain.
She and Luna wore a more subdued version of the same color, each crowned with a wreath of red holly. It was, apparently, tradition for them, and Xenophilius had made it quite clear, more than once, that celebrating alongside others was no reason to set aside their own.
"Pandora, welcome." Esme hugged her. "Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for inviting us." Pandora's reply came a beat too carefully, as though she had rehearsed it. After the heated revelations at Malfoy Manor, Pandora had assumed that whatever remained of her family would simply have nothing further to do with her. Blood-adopted or not, it did not change what she was an affair child. They had never spoken much to begin with, so the silence, she told herself, would cost her very little. It still hurt regardless but she had decided, somewhere along the way, that this was simply something she had to live with.
Then Esme had invited her — invited all of them — to her own family's Yuletide dinner. Pandora had been certain, at first, that she had misheard. She had even tried to decline, murmuring something about how it would hardly be appropriate.
"What's inappropriate about it?" Esme had asked, faintly puzzled by the very idea. "You're my sister, aren't you?"
Pandora agreed. What she had not expected was to learn whose family Esme had married into. The Black family. The Black family, of all the families in Wizarding Britain! She had tried, more than once, to talk Xenophilius out of his clothes but the man had a maddening way of making you agree with him regardless of how firmly you began. Pandora believed, as a matter of principle, in not stifling anyone's individuality, her husband's included, but that principle did very little to steady her nerves at the thought of facing the rest of the Black family tonight. The Lovegoods were, after all, an inactive baron-level house — nowhere near the standing of the Malfoys, let alone the Blacks.
"Bonjour, Luna. You may know this already, but I am your Aunt Esme." Esme greeted her niece.
Luna considered her for a long moment with an expression of perfect, dreamy seriousness. "You have very healthy aura," she said. "Not many people do, this time of year. It's the Nargles — they tend to settle in around Yuletide."
Esme's eyebrows rose, just slightly. She glanced toward Pandora, who only smiled back in placid acceptance, as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world. Esme nodded slowly, apparently deciding the conversation was best left exactly where it stood.
"Would you like to meet your cousins? I have a little girl about your age. Her name is Lyra."
Right on cue, Lyra appeared at her mother's side. "Finally, a girl. Hi. I'm Lyra!" she immediately grabbed Luna's hand excitedly. Luna looked surprised.
"What am I, chopped liver?" Dora said, her hand pressed dramatically to her chest. "I'm also a girl, you know."
"Are you really a girl?" Corvus asked.
Dora looked scandalized. "Of course I am!"
"But you can change your hair, and your face, and your eyes," Rigel said, with the careful logic of a child working through a genuine puzzle. "Can you turn yourself into a boy too?"
Dora paused. Huh. She'd never actually thought about that before. Could she?
"Nymphadora!" Andromeda's voice carried a clear warning knowing how her own daughter thinks.
"What?"
"No."
"I didn't do anything!"
"Now is not the time for you to be experimenting with your powers. Do that sort of thing at home, where I can actually keep an eye on you."
"I'm not going to try turning into a boy with my own mother watching, that's mortifying!"
"Nymphadora!"
Sirius closed his eyes briefly trying to sort everything. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening anymore. Somewhere beneath the general chaos, he found himself genuinely curious whether a Metamorphmagus could actually change their gender. He had not heard of it done before. If it could be done, he wondered, would Alphard be able to do it too, once he was older?
He watched Lyra chattering away at Luna with unmistakable delight and understood the enthusiasm well enough — his daughter had spent her whole short life surrounded by boys, and a girl her own age was clearly a novelty worth savoring. Rigel and Corvus, meanwhile, had struck up conversation with Justin and Draco. Draco looked visibly wary of Justin — Lucius's influence, no doubt — but Sirius suspected it would not take long before the twins wore him down into something resembling friendship regardless.
Xenophilius, for his part, had cornered Rosea and Douglas, who both still looked faintly stunned by the man, as though they had not quite recovered from the introduction. Sirius supposed he ought to go rescue them from him.
"Sirius." Arcturus interrupted his thoughts.
"Yes, grandfather?" Sirius looked, wondering if his grandfather is going to complain that the place was not perfect, the decorations, the chaos, or why he invited Xenophilius shocking the entire family of his presence.
"Please talk to Xenophilius Lovegood to not wear something like that to my Yuletide Gala in four days' time."
Sirius blinked. "Wait. What? You invited the Lovegoods?"
"I invited everyone." Arcturus said.
"Everyone?" Sirius asked. "Even Potter and Dumbledore?"
"Of course."
"Why?"
Arcturus folded his hands behind his back, the picture of a man about to explain something he considered self-evident. "Power, Sirius, is rarely about who you exclude. Anyone can close a door. It takes rather more precision to open one wide enough that everyone feels obligated to walk through it — and then to watch, at their leisure, exactly what they do once they're inside." His eyes glinted faintly.
"Dumbledore will come because we all know he wants something from us." Arcturus said. "You and I are both already aware that he has been putting up spies around us. The Potters will come because Dumbledore will tell them they should, and because one does not say no to the House of Black. Also — as much as you disdain him, James Potter is still Dorea's son."
Sirius sighed. "Fine."
"Just make sure to tell him not to wear anything like that to my Gala!" Arcturus hissed.
Sirius couldn't help but smile, doing his best not to laugh outright at the whole situation. "I could try. But I have a feeling he won't listen. The man seems to have some talent for making people agree to his antics whether they want to or not."
Arcturus looked genuinely horrified. "What manner of power does this man hold? Wasn't he a Ravenclaw?"
Sirius couldn't stop himself. He laughed.