"I'm currently the partner of Nymphadora Tonks, daughter of Andromeda. I'm in my second year at Hogwarts. I'm pure-blood, born into the Weasley family and of the Prewett line through my mother," I began, speaking firmly.
I didn't go into great detail, but I summarized the essentials: how, with a bit of cunning, I managed to convince Dumbledore to let me join a seventh-year program; how I worked alongside Tonks as a temporary Auror; our missions, our Order of Merlin decorations… and, of course, Ted's murder at the hands of our enemies. A bit of everything, dressed up just enough without actually lying.
Walburga sneered at certain parts, but it was clear I had her attention. The story interested her, though she wouldn't admit it. Most of all, because of my lineage, Ted's death… and what I'd achieved beyond Hogwarts.
"Hmm… even trash like you could produce a decent daughter," she remarked with disdain toward Andromeda.
"Thanks," Andromeda replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She had expected as much and didn't even bother saying more.
"But I doubt you came here just to boast," Walburga continued, though deep down she seemed to enjoy what she was hearing. That the exiled branch of the Black family could still produce capable individuals was, at the very least, a comforting thought for her.
"Of course not. I've come to reestablish family ties. I believe I meet all your requirements… don't I, Mrs. Black?" I said, smiling as I spread my arms theatrically.
"Requirements, eh?" she murmured with a dry smile, as if she had no idea what I was talking about.
"Good lineage, the right personality… achievements and recognition. Isn't that the kind of person the Black ladies are expected to marry?" I asked casually. "Isn't that exactly what you would have wanted for your family—and in which Andromeda 'failed' you?" I added, making air quotes around the last word.
"Your logic is flimsy in several places," she snapped. "Don't try to play games with me. I'm not one of those naïve teenage girls you deal with at Hogwarts."
"Then tell me… where have I fallen short?" I asked with a smile.
"To start with, although the Weasleys were noble in the past, you can't hide their current decay from me," she said coldly.
"Decay… or simply a fall before the resurgence? There are eight of us—seven sons and one daughter. If all of us were to marry into influential families… wouldn't that mean a revival, with enough alliances and inheritances to elevate our standing?" I laughed mockingly.
"You wouldn't make me believe they'd fallen so low if they were truly intelligent," she scoffed.
"A family's downfall isn't always due to a lack of intelligence," I replied, narrowing my eyes. "Sometimes it's just bad luck. Wasn't that also the case with the Blacks? Besides, even if my family were clumsy, I am not. And for that reason, you can't say I'm wrong."
"You've got something, yes… but not as much as you think," she retorted, tilting her head. "Those achievements you boast about were earned under another identity. And most seriously: you keep referring to that traitor's daughter as part of the Black family. That alone invalidates your whole argument."
"As if it mattered which name I used…" I scoffed, now rolling my eyes. "I could take it up again if necessary. And as for the other matter… isn't that precisely what I came here to fix?"
"Ha… as if I didn't know," Walburga looked at me with disdain. "Exactly what I'd expect from a true Slytherin… but don't expect to take anything from here. You'll leave empty-handed." She spoke as if she'd already lost interest in me.
"Why so abrupt?" I asked with feigned innocence.
"No need to act. I know perfectly well why you're here," Walburga replied, narrowing her eyes. "You just want us to reinstate that girl so you can devour the Black family." She snorted with contempt, though her tone carried a hint of resignation. "I'll admit that, if you are who you say you are, you would have made an exceptional son-in-law… but I won't be the one to hand our inheritance to the wolves."
"I think you're imagining too much," I said with a hint of seriousness. "I have no intention of absorbing the Black family. Quite the opposite: I care deeply for this family, because from it comes the woman I love. I don't want to devour it… I want to revitalize it, help it rise again." My tone was calm, almost warm. But to her, any show of empathy was suspicious.
"Hmm… and you said you were clever," she mocked. Her gaze was sharp, as if trying to read beyond my words. "Even if what you propose is noble, the truth is that devouring the family would be the most cunning option. It's what I'd expect from someone who presents himself as you do." She leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "But go on… if you don't plan to absorb it, how do you intend to restore the Black family?"
"Easy," I replied with conviction. "Just as you've already guessed: by reinstating its most capable descendants. Nymphadora is not only a talented witch, seasoned and firm in her convictions… she'd also have my full support." I didn't mention her flaws. To Walburga, she was the embodiment of the bloodline that needed to be reborn. "Isn't it wise to want to restore a field with a good seed?"
"Yeah, sure…" she said sarcastically. "And have her children only know that they once belonged to the Blacks, without ever having done anything to honor the name." She spoke with bitterness, but her tone soon shifted. A reflective pause settled in before her proposal: "Though perhaps… we could reach an agreement. If we set, by contract, that your children carry the Black surname…"
Walburga had gone fully into negotiation mode. In truth, without me saying much more, she had already reached that conclusion on her own. To her, blood was everything, and although Andromeda had failed as a daughter, Nymphadora seemed to be redeeming her branch of the family.
The current state of the bloodline was precarious, and this opportunity might be the last piece that could allow its resurgence. Reinstating Tonks wouldn't be a grave transgression. There was precedent for children mending the mistakes of their parents. If she could have the Black name restored to her… if our children bore it proudly… then perhaps we would be the miracle this family had been waiting for.
"No, I'm sorry, but Nymphadora's children will bear the Tonks surname. That's already decided," I refused immediately, cutting her proposal short without hesitation.
"What?!" exclaimed the portrait, caught between perplexity and fury. Then she let out a sound of utter disdain. "And here I was starting to think you had a brain… You're just another madman."
"It was a promise," I replied calmly. "I'm sorry, but I never actually intended for Tonks to revitalize the Black family in that way. Her role would be… more symbolic. A dignified figure representing the lost grandeur of the lineage. My plan lies elsewhere."
"And what are you expecting then? Adopt children and give them the Black surname?" she shot back with irritation. "I don't want to hear any more. Go. Both of you, leave."
Her frustration was evident. The surname of a Muggle-born made her stomach turn, and the thought of Black descendants bearing it made it worse. The dream she had just begun to entertain crumbled before her eyes. She no longer even seemed interested in reintegrating Tonks, not even for the sake of the family tree.
"Hold on, don't be so hasty," I said, not moving from the armchair. "My intention is still clear: to create new heirs with Black blood and the Black surname."
"Do you actually expect to find another pure-blood Black?" she scoffed with bitter sarcasm. "Go ahead, try. It's not as if we haven't tried before. What's left are distant branches, diluted lines that don't even keep the surname anymore. And of course, they'd all be delighted to change their name for an inheritance, like you… but none are close enough to deserve it. That would be giving our history away to another family."
"I already told you I don't want the Black inheritance," I replied, rolling my eyes. "I have my own wealth. Compared to mine, yours is… modest."
"Then why are you here? Why so much interest in 'saving the family'?" she retorted, her anger now more evident than ever… well, not more than ever, really—she never truly hid it.
"For the same reason all of you did what you did," I answered with a half-smile. "To protect and strengthen the people I love. To consolidate my family. Exactly like you, Mrs. Black."
She didn't respond. So, I decided to be clearer. More direct.
"And by the way… I already have a pure-blood Black willing to have descendants who will bear the Black surname."
Walburga froze. Surprise froze her face for an instant. Then she narrowed her eyes, raising a skeptical brow. She examined me in silence, searching for a crack, a hint of a lie… but my gaze was steady, clear, unshakable. She didn't want to continue down this path, didn't want to open any more doors… but she also knew this might be her last chance. So, although she didn't admit it, she decided to listen to me one more time, with a silent plea deep inside: that I wasn't lying.
"Who?" she asked at last, her voice hard. "And how can you assure me she's a pure-blood Black?"
"I think I left out a part of my introduction," I replied, shifting my tone to something more playful. "Allow me to redo it."
I leaned back in the armchair, and with a mischievous smile, I added:
"I'm Red Weasley. Second year at Hogwarts. Boyfriend of Nymphadora Tonks… and also of this beauty you call your niece."
As I spoke, I slid my hand along Andromeda's hip and gave her a gentle squeeze on the rear. She flushed slightly, restrained, but didn't pull away. Her embarrassment was clear, but she stood her ground.
Walburga's narrowed eyes flew wide open, brimming with confusion. For a moment, it seemed as if she hadn't heard correctly.
"W-what?" was all she managed to stammer, as if her mind refused to process the obvious. But the scene before her left no room for doubt.
"Do you need a clearer explanation?" I asked softly, as I stood and pulled Andromeda closer to me.
We kissed. It wasn't long, nor particularly passionate. Just enough—a clear, undeniable display of our relationship. A silent yet devastating confirmation. And though Andromeda blushed even more—perhaps from doing this in front of her aunt's portrait—she didn't pull away. My hand, of course, never left its place on her rear.
"I didn't think you could sink so low," Walburga spat venomously, fixing her gaze on Andromeda as if she were looking at an insect. "How could someone who once bore the Black name with pride end up like this?"
"Let's just say he's so exceptional… I couldn't resist," Andromeda replied with a smile, running her fingers affectionately through my hair.
"Disgusting…" Walburga hissed, nearly turning within her frame to vanish to another part of the house. "Get out of my sight."
"You say that as if the Black family didn't have its fair share of perversions throughout its history," I said with a smirk, subtly waving my wand. A charm sealed the portrait, preventing her from fleeing.
"Do you plan to keep me here just to brag about how you took two blood traitors to bed?" she asked in a cold tone, though her threat was pointless. "A beggar picking up trash is nothing to be admired," she added with contempt, as if her insult could diminish me.
"No, no, don't misunderstand me," I said, still smiling carelessly. "I didn't come here to boast… though I very well could."