I stepped toward the center of the room and spoke calmly, as if listing something trivial.
"I could boast about all that, of course… as well as the fact that I enjoy the love and devotion of the Parkinson heiress… the Bulstrode heiress… the Greengrass heiress… and—though it's not a particularly prominent house—also a daughter of the Farley family, who not long ago gave birth to our sweet and lovely Ruby Farley."
Walburga's expression cracked for an instant—an exact blend of incredulity and dismay.
"And that's without mentioning," I continued, "that—without exaggeration—I am one of the most promising wizards of this era. I hold more territory than most magical families alive today. My resources make the Black inheritance… irrelevant to me. I oversee what is likely the most efficient magical production network in the world. I already have a lucrative business established in England and France, and I'm expanding into Germany, Spain, Brazil, and several Asian countries."
I paused. The very air seemed to stop.
"And I also possess a unique bloodline magic."
With a flick of my hand, blood rose around me. Chaotic waves danced through the hall—vibrant, untamed… yet perfectly contained. Not a single object was touched. It was a display of absolute power with surgical precision.
"And it's hereditary. Though not exactly in the way I manifest it. In little Ruby, for example, it shows as accelerated regeneration, remarkable magical resistance, and superior physical constitution. But she's still young… and what she might awaken to over time is a mystery full of potential."
Silence fell like a heavy shroud. Walburga didn't know what to say. Every word I'd spoken seemed too improbable to be true… yet the way I said them, the certainty in my movements, the confidence I radiated… left no room for doubt. I wasn't lying. I didn't need to.
"So…" I finally added, with a razor-sharp smile, "shall we talk business? I have more cards in my hand than you imagine. In fact, I intend to get your other dear niece out of Azkaban to help us… though, of course, we'd have to annul her fruitless marriage to the Lestrange family. Joining the Dark Lord brought her nothing but pain, chains, and madness… unlike Andromeda's marriage, which—despite the scandal—bore exceptional fruit."
I cast a conspiratorial glance at Andromeda, with a mischievous touch. For the first time, she looked genuinely surprised. Of everything I had said… that was the one thing I had not told her before.
"What do you think?" I asked, turning back toward the portrait, noticing how Walburga was watching me with a mix of suspicion and fury.
"You always talk about women…" she spat coldly, trying to mask the doubt that was beginning to gnaw at her. "As if you didn't know I have sons. As if their existence were irrelevant."
She couldn't deny the impact my words had on her, but she clung to what little she had left: the image of her sons as her last argument. It was her shield… her only defense.
"Madam," I replied without softness, my tone brushing the edge of irreverence, "you know perfectly well the situation of your sons. I would offer to free Sirius as well… but he'll manage that on his own. And as for Regulus… Kreacher should have made it clear to you that he… isn't coming back."
My voice hardened on that last sentence.
Walburga's face tightened. A storm brewed in her eyes—furious, wounded, human.
Mentioning Regulus was like pressing on an open wound that had never healed. And I knew it. But this was no longer just a conversation.
"Just wait until it all blows up in your face when those families find out!" Walburga spat with venom, her words dripping contempt. "Or when the foolishness of those girls fades as they grow older…"
"Mrs. Black," I said, stepping forward until I was right in front of her portrait, "the one being foolish here… is you."
There was no trace of courtesy in my voice anymore.
"Do you think this is a game? That I'm some amateur—a snake charmer who seduces aimless girls? Did you hear me? I said I had a daughter with the Farley heiress. Does that sound like nothing to you? She's madly in love with me. And I with her. Do you honestly think the others—who are younger—could resist me if a woman like her fell completely?" My tone dropped, becoming graver, more dangerous. "Do you think their families can stop it?"
My auras surged, accompanied by other abilities. They materialized, distorting the air around me and even my own image to the eyes of those present—far more overwhelming than the effect of my first entrance. My voice thundered, cutting through the physical to strike directly at the soul of everyone in the room.
To them, my form seemed shrouded in a red-and-black aura, erratic and dangerous. They had the vivid sensation of aggressive tentacles lashing at the air around me, ready to annihilate. A mouth full of teeth opened in the void, with nothing inside but a black emptiness, and eyes that were nothing but burning crimson light. My appearance had become wholly and monstrously terrifying.
On the other side of the door, the house-elf Kreacher writhed on the floor, crushed beneath my presence. He felt his organs being pulped and his brain seared by white-hot iron. Walburga was no better off; even within her portrait, the magic cracked, and she seemed to be devoured from the inside by a void. Even Andromeda, at my side, struggled to breathe, as if a heart attack were imminent. Strangely, the echoes of "that day" tormented her once again—her womb throbbed, forced to ovulate, her clitoris stiffened, and her sex grew wet uncontrollably. In her mind, only two things remained: an instinctive fear of me, and an overpowering urge to prostrate herself before a superior being, waiting to be bred.
"There aren't even that many wizards in this country worth me stopping to consider… and even less so a few insignificant families who don't even come close to the level of those I've already faced!"
My voice burst out like the roar of an unnatural beast—so deep and aberrant that it distorted the perception of those present, as if the very space around us were twisting in on itself.
After speaking those words, my aura began to slowly retract, dissipating with the same intensity with which it had manifested. I turned to the side, letting the heavy silence take over the scene. Yes, my display had been excessive—but not unnecessary. Walburga was trembling, cornered in one side of her own portrait, reduced to little more than a specter crushed by fear.
But of course… unleashing such power was bound to draw attention. Fortunately, I had already prepared countermeasures. One of my clones was heading toward the old hideout of the poachers who had attacked us earlier, ready to unleash similar energy to distract Dumbledore, who was approaching. I had also sealed Phineas' portrait to prevent him from revealing our location. Had he done so, they'd already know that the epicenter of the chaos was the Black Manor.
Those poachers… were already out of the game. They turned out to be the same group Tonks and I had faced during that mission for which we were decorated. The same ones who murdered Ted. I extracted useful information from them… and I might pay them another visit soon. Perhaps I'll give Tonks the vengeance she deserves. Curiously, that also reminded me why the attackers in Brazil had seemed familiar: they too were traffickers, though from a different network. My prophetic ability had been warning me the entire time, yet I still don't fully know how to interpret it. I need to learn how to read that sixth sense.
Returning to the present, I watched as Walburga slowly began to recover, as did Andromeda, who was still trembling at my side. I took her hand firmly and cast a gentle [Calm] on her. It seemed I hadn't controlled myself enough, for her voice was hoarse when she thanked me, and she struggled to hide the wetness on the lower part of her dress—though it didn't seem like she had completely lost control of her bladder. As a precaution, I handed her a glass of water in case she became dehydrated, before turning my attention back to Walburga.
I silently thanked the Black Manor for having such robust defenses; without them dampening my power, my presence alone would have caused a real catastrophe among any nearby living creature.
"Mrs. Black… I don't only have your great-niece as a companion—I also have your niece. And many other women. Heiresses, powerful witches, dark, light… even daughters of Muggles, just like your renegade niece enjoyed." I let out a brief laugh, stroking Andromeda's hair tenderly as she recovered. "Women of all castes, according to your view… inferior or superior, it doesn't matter. They all strengthen my family. You believe in purity? Good. Then you should understand that what I am building is without equal."
I turned to look at her with cunning, and continued:
"Isn't that what your family has always sought? Alliances, power, strong heirs? Think about it. If you overlook the small detail of my bond with both mother and daughter… you could allow the Black family to rise again. And not with just any heir—several of them, powerful, respected, and feared, with strong backing (me). All I need is your cooperation to restore Andromeda and Nymphadora to the family tree. All our children will bear the Black name… and they will fill it with glory."
The situation had taken a brutal turn. The witch in the portrait—once haughty and unyielding—could no longer hide her emotions. Fear was now mingled with a reverence almost akin to awe. She looked at me as if seeing a monster wearing human skin—perhaps I was—but also as if that monster might be her only hope.
"W-what do you want…?" she asked, trembling.
She no longer had the strength to impose authority or maintain a façade. Even a portrait can feel true fear when faced with an entity that reeks of death. And technically, I did possess part of death's own power. She no longer doubted my words. She didn't know whether to curse or bless my existence. But… perhaps, just perhaps… she still had the chance to see her bloodline rise again.
Letting the pair of exiles serve as a sacrifice in exchange for my favor… even if they gave me more Black women, it would still be advantageous. Turning Andromeda and Tonks into nothing more than child-bearing vessels would be even better; that way, I could have many powerful Black heirs. The look she gave me changed—no longer just fear, but a spark of hope.
"I want Andromeda to reclaim her surname," I said firmly. "For both her and her daughter to return to the family tree. And furthermore… I want Andromeda to become the new head of the Black family."
Andromeda gasped in surprise. That part she hadn't expected. She had thought I had come only to claim her lost inheritance… not to take the family throne.
"There's not much I can do in my state," Walburga replied thoughtfully, "but… if you manage to bring my son, he, as the current head, could authorize it…"
I knew that was coming. It didn't matter.
"Don't worry," I said, while my wand carved an intricate magic circle at my feet, the flames leaving a faint reddish glow. "I have my methods. I only need… your cooperation, to make the process easier."