Chapter 2. The First Curse.
"All right. Son, today is finally the day you remove your first curse. Up until this moment, you have studied many curses theoretically — from simple ones to fairly complex ones. I have demonstrated them to you, and using the special spectacles, you have been learning to see them and understand how to properly unravel them."
"Yes, Mother Bella."
I gave a short nod, and she placed a gold plate in front of me, onto which she immediately — right before my eyes — applied one of the simplest curses. It wasn't even a curse in the full sense of the word; it was more of a hex, the essence of which was that anyone who touched the gold plate would suffer from diarrhea.
"Now then. To start, tell me about this curse."
"Well..."
I examined the hex more closely.
"...you've made it a little convoluted. Most likely a personal spell created in something of a hurry. I can see at least five weak points; applying pressure to them should cause it to unravel. By the standard classification, this isn't even a curse — it's more of a hex. Hexes are usually placed directly on people, of course, but in this case it's an interesting modification of the effect, applied to an object instead. From what I can make out in the hex's lines, the essence of it is that whoever touches the gold plate will suffer from severe diarrhea — and the amount of power you put into the spell tells me that the poor soul will be suffering for a minimum of three days."
Bella gave a short nod.
"Correct so far. What else can you tell me about this curse?"
"It'll dissolve on its own in about a week. As I see it, this kind of effect could quite easily be reclassified from harmful to medicinal — useful for anyone with severe constipation."
"Pff..."
"Don't snort — you're the one who asked me to be as thorough as possible. So..."
I examined the hex's lines once more.
"I'd wager that a less experienced wizard couldn't even cast a spell like this — and that would be the best-case scenario. In the worst case, it would have exploded right at the tip of their wand and ended up hexing the wizard themselves."
"What's the reason for that?"
Bella tilted her head, studying me with curiosity.
"An imperfect verbal formula and an imperfect wand movement. As I said, the hex was most likely created in a rush — which makes sense, really. A perfect curse, even the simplest one, in your hands would have been nearly impossible for me to remove. You pulled the hex off on sheer force of will, not letting it deviate from what you intended."
"Good. Now tell me about the methods of removing it."
"Hmm..."
I peered at the hex on the gold plate.
"...five points where applying force would simply destroy the hex outright. But that method is only applicable when the curse or hex has been placed on an inanimate object, because the energy release could make things considerably worse for a living person..."
"I'm glad you understand that. And yes, in many ways you're right about how the spell was constructed — however, had I wanted to, I could have created a far more refined spell in the same amount of time. But many wizards these days have come to prefer simple solutions. That includes curse removal, and as long as we're dealing with inanimate objects it's generally fine — but when it comes to living people..."
Bella shook her head, clearly disapproving of that approach.
"...and even with inorganic objects..."
"I understand..."
I nodded to show that I genuinely understood what Mother was getting at.
"...if the spell were more powerful than the one you cast, and the energy within it were not neutral but, say, necrotic or elemental, then a quick removal of such a hex or curse could injure the wizard who performed it."
"Exactly."
She smiled with satisfaction and, walking around the table, ruffled my hair.
"Now then, son — remove the curse from the object using the gentlest method possible."
"As you say..."
I nodded and, taking my wand in hand, cast several diagnostic spells. Once I had confirmed that what I had seen through the spectacles was accurate, I began to gradually unravel the hex from the object. It didn't take long, and though it was my very first time unraveling a spell, I managed it perfectly.
"Done..."
I gave my wand a theatrical shake, as if brushing something dirty and unpleasant off it, slipped it back into the holster at my wrist, and nodded toward the gold plate.
"...the hex has been removed."
"Good. I'll check now, and if you've truly done everything correctly, we'll try unraveling something slightly more complex."
With that, Mother began layering one diagnostic weave after another — though in the end, all she could do was smile with satisfaction once more and ruffle my hair with a pride that was entirely a mother's.
"Wonderful... Let's try something more difficult."
Bella quickly applied a more complex spell to the same strip of gold — still something that could be classified as a hex.
"Well..."
I examined the hex that had been placed on the object.
"...this is still more of a hex than a full curse, but this time it's considerably more refined. There are only two points of destruction, the lines are woven far more tightly, and the effect itself is..."
I looked more closely at what was visible and even cast a few diagnostic spells to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me.
"Em... it makes whoever touches it impotent?"
"Correct. Now remove it."
*** That same evening. ***
"Kreacher."
"Kreacher is here, young Heir."
He was an old house-elf who had served the Black family for a very long time. Unfortunately, Dobby — who by canon had apparently been rather good by Potter's standards — had to be put down. The reason was that he had come into contact with the diary, but had not been strong enough to avoid losing his mind. Kreacher had not escaped the mental influence either, but he was stronger, and over the past several years — after we had moved the Horcruxes to a secured vault — he had managed to recover.
"Has Mama Cissy come home yet?"
"Yes. Mistress Cissy is speaking with Mistress Bella. They are awaiting young Heir Draco in the small dining room."
"Good..."
Stretching, I adjusted my dressing gown — the one I wore around the room after my bath — and headed downstairs. A couple of years ago, my mothers would have found this sort of behavior unacceptable, and Grandmother Walburga still winced slightly when she saw me dressed like this — but at least they weren't drilling the point into my head anymore.
"The young Heir should not walk through the house in such a state..."
I stopped and half-turned toward Kreacher, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Do we have guests?"
"No, but Mistress Walburga will be displeased."
"Grandmother..."
I shook my head.
"...she's from a different generation and doesn't understand that the future is impossible without bringing something new into one's life. So why not let go of stuffiness — at least within the family circle? Perhaps it was precisely that stuffiness that made Sirius run away from home back in the day?"
"Kreacher disagrees, but Kreacher will not argue with the young Heir. The young Heir is very powerful and gifted with magic. The young Heir will do everything his own way regardless, when he grows up."
"Very well, then I'm off. And please prepare me a coffee with three spoonfuls of sugar and milk."
"Kreacher will do so."
Even as he said the words, Kreacher winced slightly — in his view, milk belonged in tea. Coffee was a noble drink not to be diluted. But I didn't care. I didn't like the taste of straight coffee, and so I preferred it with sugar and milk.
I came down from my room and made my way to the small dining room.
"Mama Cissy, Mama Bella, Grandmother Walburga."
"Grandson, what is the meaning of this attire?"
Despite the stern tone, I could see that Grandmother had already made her peace with my appearance and had more or less come to expect it.
"Grandmother, I don't see any point in putting on formal robes when we're within the family circle. And if we were expecting guests, you would have let me know through the house-elf."
I shrugged.
"So I see no reason to perform what a noble I am."
"Grandson..."
"Gran, we've already had this conversation. Go tell Dumbledore that his garish robes and his very well-known obsession with sweets are unbecoming — and that as Supreme Warlock, he ought to dress accordingly..."
Grandmother wrinkled her nose slightly.
"You are not Albus."
"No, but if I spend my time picking out outfits just to have a meal with my family, I never will be. There won't be any time left for training."
"Mother..."
Cissy placed her hand over Walburga's.
"...let it be. Draco understands perfectly well who he is and what family he comes from, and at the few social events where Bella and I have brought him along, he has conducted himself as a perfectly worthy representative of high society."
"I know..."
Grandmother sighed.
"...but you must understand that I haven't got so many years left, and..."
"Gran, don't talk nonsense. You'll still be around to spoil your great-grandchildren..."
"Speaking of great-grandchildren... since you've brought the subject up yourself..."
A deeply satisfied smirk appeared on Grandmother's lips.
"...you are already acquainted with all the worthwhile young ladies of British society, so it would be about time for you to arrange a preliminary betrothal."
"Mother!"
Cissy and Bella rose from the table in unison, pressing their palms flat against it and leaning slightly toward their mother — my grandmother.
"Yes, daughters?"
Walburga looked at her adopted daughters with a hint of amusement. Technically, of course, they were only nieces — but just as with me and Bella, she simply could not address them any other way. Neither she herself nor my mothers would have accepted anything different.
"Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?"
"I think..."
Bella was the first to collect herself, and she slowly settled back into her chair. She looked overly tense as she did so, and her already impeccable posture became even more rigidly straight.
"Our family has already been burned by arranged marriages. And I would not want our son to go through what Cissy and I did. Yes..."
She raised a hand to stop Grandmother from saying anything.
"...he is the future head of the family, and many of the things Cissy and I endured will never threaten him — but as the example of Lucius, and my late husband and his brother, has shown..."
Bella twisted her lips into a contemptuous sneer as she spoke of the dead men.
"...even the most ironclad marriage contract won't protect a man from an angry and unhappy woman."
"Are you truly suggesting that my grandson would be the same sort of wretch as those men?"
"No..."
It was Mama Cissy who answered Grandmother this time.
"...our son will not become like them. But as we know very well, a girl can be hurt by anything. So we can't rule out the possibility that a chosen bride might come to harbor resentment toward Draco."
"All right..."
Walburga sighed.
"...but I had to raise the matter — especially since we have received a proposal from the Greengrasses regarding exactly such a betrothal. They are being clever, of course..."
"Ha-ha-ha!"
Cissy burst out laughing at her mother's words.
"What is so funny?"
"It's just — they are being clever, very clever indeed. I can't say everything, but what they want from us is a free service that only our son can provide."
"An Oath?"
To Grandmother's question, Cissy only nodded.
"I see... so they've decided to deceive us..."
"Grandmother..."
I decided to draw everyone's attention to myself.
"Yes?"
"Why don't we play that card?"
"Play the card?"
"Well, yes..."
I nodded, and a cunning smile appeared on my lips.
"...why not give our consent — but on the condition of a full medical examination? Then, once the truth comes to light..."
A gleam of understanding appeared in Grandmother's eyes.
"We squeeze a settlement out of them for our silence!"
"Better still..."
I shook my head.
"Better still?"
"Yes... as I understand it, one cannot bring a personal house-elf to Hogwarts..."
I watched carefully for the reactions of everyone present.
"...but what if the one serving as a house-elf were a wellborn witch who would be attending Hogwarts in any case?"
"The Greengrasses would never give up their daughter as a settlement—"
"Who said anything about a settlement?"
I allowed myself to interrupt Grandmother.
"Forgive me, Grandmother, for cutting you off — but that isn't what I had in mind at all. I was simply suggesting that we play the card of an offended noble family prepared to sever all ties with the Greengrasses entirely, thereby denying them even the prospect of having the curse removed. At the same time, in a private conversation, we make it clear that no sum of money will ever persuade us to take on this work. And then... when they have been driven to desperation, we offer to take their eldest daughter as a personal attendant. My personal attendant."
"Hmm..."
Both mothers and Grandmother fixed their eyes on me intently.
"...of course, intrigue isn't exactly my strong suit, and the way I see the situation may be somewhat..."
I traced an indistinct shape in the air with my hand.
"...but I think you've understood my idea, and I trust you'll be able to arrange things so that the Heir of the House of Black ends up with a personal attendant who may be without a house of her own, but who comes from noble blood nonetheless."
"Grandson..."
Walburga studied me carefully, and I found myself raising an eyebrow in question.
"...I am proud of you. Now then, daughters — how are we going to pull this off?"