When a Child Spoke Like a King
The Black family portrait corridor was never quiet.
Faces whispered.
Frames rattled.
Ancestors judged.
Lucien walked in calmly.
Narcissa followed a step behind.
The first portrait to notice him narrowed its eyes.
"Well," Phineas Nigellus Black drawled, "if it isn't Lord Lionhardt himself."
Lucien inclined his head politely.
"Headmaster Black."
Phineas snorted.
"Still calling me that, I see."
Lucien turned slightly, glancing at Narcissa.
"She has offered me fifty percent of the Black family's assets and wealth," Lucien said evenly, "along with herself."
The corridor went silent.
No gasps.
No outrage.
Not even Phineas flinched.
They already knew.
Cygnus Black's portrait spoke next, voice deep and steady.
"And?" he asked. "Is there a problem with the offer?"
Lucien nodded.
"There is."
Several portraits leaned forward.
Lucien's voice remained calm—but carried weight.
"Offering oneself as a slave may be tempting to many," he said. "But not to me."
Phineas raised an eyebrow.
Lucien continued.
"My adoptive father—Edmund Lionhardt—made me heir to his house before he passed. He asked only one thing of me."
The corridor listened.
"To protect his granddaughters," Lucien said. "They are my fiancées."
Narcissa froze.
"If I were to take Narcissa Black as a slave," Lucien went on, "and she later bore my child—"
A few portraits hissed.
"That would stain the Lionhardt name," Lucien finished calmly.
"And insult the man who gave me that name."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Respectful.
Phineas studied him closely.
"…Then what do you propose, Lord Lionhardt?"
Lucien straightened.
"I propose a different contract."
The air shifted.
"I, Lucien Aurelius Lionhardt, Ninth Head of the Lionhardt Family," he said clearly,
"request that Narcissa Black, Evelyn Black, and Nymphadora Tonks become my fiancées."
The corridor erupted.
Not in anger.
In shock.
Cygnus Black stared.
Then—
He smiled.
"The boy speaks like a king," Cygnus said slowly.
"And his will does not bend."
Several portraits murmured agreement.
Phineas clicked his tongue.
"…Merlin help the world."
Cygnus nodded once.
"I accept," he said. "On behalf of the Black family."
Lucien turned to Narcissa.
She was trembling.
Lucien met her eyes gently.
"Instead of a slave," he asked quietly,
"why not be my wife?"
Narcissa broke.
Tears streamed down her face as she nodded again and again.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes."
Lucien extended his hand.
She took it.
The Black family magic stirred.
The deal was done.
Somewhere in the portraits, an old witch muttered:
"…The Lionhardts are terrifying."
And for the first time in generations—
The House of Black had chosen wisely.