The Early Years 9

... ...

I moved around carefully, timing my steps with the music, a piece by an Italian half-blood from the seventeenth century, while doing my best to mirror the actions of my partner.

Andromeda seemed far more at ease with the movements we were making, her hands close enough to mine that she could tap them if I was slightly out of sync, but far enough away that we weren’t touching. Apparently, while more modern muggle musical styles had been adapted into magical society after the Statute came into effect, the older Houses and Clans were expected to observe older styles of dancing at formal events. This was why, instead of something like the foxtrot that I’d expected when Melania told me I would begin dancing lessons, I was instead learning the Cotillion: a dance style that had originated in the courts of France in the late eighteenth century.

This and other older dance styles from before the Statue, such as the waltz and minuet, were expected to be known by Lords and Ladies of the Ancient and Most Ancient Houses and Clans for official gatherings. And, since I was expected to attend the Winter Solstice Ball held by the Ministry this year, I was forced to endure dancing lessons with Andromeda and three of my cousins who’d already started their lessons, Erin Montague, Adele Lambert, and Talulla MacLeod. Those were the daughters of Fiona, Katrina and my dead uncle Angus. Unlike Magnus and me, Talulla had a surviving sibling in her younger sister, Tegan. The pair had been taken in by Katrina and her husband; while Magnus was being raised by his mother’s family, one of the various branches of Clan O’Neill of Ireland.

Typically, I wouldn’t be forced to attend such an event as I was far too young. However, the rules regarding who should attend required that any newly raised Lord, Chief, or Chiefess, including in those rare cases where the figure was underage, attend the first Winter Solstice Ball. As it was something written into law to have new Lords and Chiefs ‘announce themselves’ to society, I had to attend. My cousin Áine was saved from this as she hadn’t become Chiefess of Clan MacDougall, but I and the others who’d stepped forward at the opening of the Autumnus session of the Wizengamot did have to. To do otherwise was considered unacceptable even if the law didn’t enforce attendance.

Thankfully, Arcturus had assured me that this would be the only time I had to attend until after I’d passed my OWLs. However, no Lord, Chief or Chiefess was expected to attend alone. Due to my age, that presented quite a few problems; not least that attending with someone much older or younger than yourself was generally considered unacceptable unless they were the noble’s spouse.

I pivoted with Andromeda, her fingers millimetres from my palm, ready to tap me if I was slightly out of step. I wasn’t sure if she or one of my cousins I was practising with, would be my date, but I knew whoever did would gain some honour for their house. The only thing I was glad of was that there were no marriage contracts in place for me.

Now, while those did exist within the magical world, they could only be signed once both parties were thirteen, and could be delayed until one or both were out of Hogwarts. It turned out that one had been signed for my oldest sibling, Tamhas, but thankfully, the wording clearly marked it was him alone. I’d met his betrothed, a lovely girl named Elspeth Douglas, at my family’s official funeral, but it was clear she had no interest in me, which was a small mercy. As was her father, Chief Duncan Douglas, not being able to push to have me betrothed to his daughter.

Betrothals could only be for two specific people. Or at least the official announcements at any rate. Melania had hinted just enough to suggest that agreements were often reached between Lords if the unfortunate happened, however, those could never be official; therefore, there was little the aggrieved party could do through official channels.

The music stopping meant, thankfully, that this dance was over. I stepped back and bowed to Andromeda, who curtsied in response. At the sound of gentle clapping, we turned to face our tutors.

“While your form is adequate, it lacks the comfort of experience,” My Aunt Katrina offered as she, Melania Black, and Aunt Fiona approached. While the first two wore stern expressions, Fiona’s was far more expressive.

“I’d say he’s doing very well for someone who’s only had a handful of lessons,” Fiona said, a wide smile on her face. “And Andromeda is an excellent guide for him for the Cotillion.” She paused and turned to the others who were there. “However, I feel another should help Dòmhnall with the other dances. We can’t have Andromeda being his only training partner.”

Melania’s expression stayed calm as she turned to my Aunt. “That is entirely agreeable and understandable.” I felt my shoulders slump at the idea of more formal dancing. I mean, I knew it was required, but it was far from enjoyable. Especially when the three ladies were dancing around the fact that I had to pick my partner for the Ball. “However, that will have to wait until his next session,” I felt a rush of energy surge through me at learning the dancing was over, “my husband and your sister are waiting to begin his lessons in the Arts of the Mind.”

That energy dropped slightly as she finished. While learning Occlumency and Legilimency were things I had to learn – and I had a small boost in learning the former due to Emotionless Recall – Arcturus was a hard teacher, a man who expected only the best from those he took under his wing. That might also have played into why Sirius rejected his family in the canon timeline as, even now, my distant cousin was something of a wild child. Not a future lord of one of the oldest and most powerful Houses in magical Britain.

As for Moire, I knew little of her abilities with mind magic but, given she was a member of the Auror department and was to be my primary tutor for the subjects, I doubted she wasn’t skilled. Though I also knew she wouldn’t go easy on me as, while she was no longer a MacLeod by name, she was born one and surely didn’t want the Clan to fall into ruin as had happened with Clans MacKay, MacNeil, Cameron, and Campbell. There the main branches, including any unwed female who could potentially become Chiefess, had died in the Massacre, which left those Clans in a precarious position.

Married ladies of the main lines were excluded unless their children were wed into another clan and were not of the main line of that clan. Those males, if old enough, could claim the title of Chief if they so wished, but they’d face challengers from any other males in a similar position. They could also be challenged by the heads of the Cadet branches of the clan – where they existed – duels that would be approved through the Wizengamot and then officiated within the family.

Said duels would take place sometime in November as there were formal protocols that had to be observed before challenges for the head of a House or Clan could take place. When they did take place, which was already a topic dominating the pages of the magical newspapers, they might well be to the death.

The other issue was that if a Cadet branch became the new main branch, then the House would lose some status. However, each would lose some status within the Wizengamot, however since all were solid Ancient Houses none were at risk of dropping a tier in rank. What there was a risk of was that any Sept that was regarded as Established, could break from the Clan if the new chief came from a cadet branch with only a minor penalty. Now, Septs and Affiliated Houses – as they were referred to in England) could break from the senior Clan/House whenever they wanted, but the penalties for doing so were, frankly, exorbitant. So much so that few Septs of Affiliated Houses had been able to break free outside of the senior Clan/House falling on troubled times.

“While I cannot comment on Lord Black’s competency with Mind Arts, Moire is known to be a natural Legilimens and is more than capable of ensuring The MacLeod is prepared.” Katrina turned to me, a smile that felt oddly concerning on her face. “It would be wise to not keep your tutors waiting.”

I bowed to her and the other ladies, before turning and moving off. As I left the ballroom in Le Domaine Noir, I glanced at the time on a grandfather clock that dominated the hall I’d emerged into. Like everything else in the house, not only was it in pristine condition, but looked to be both antique and valuable.

Seeing I had about fifteen minutes left to make my next lesson, I moved toward the Floo point within the Black estate. While the dancing lessons were taking place here, I was unwilling to have anyone looking into my mind, even someone I could nominally trust to teach me the Mind Arts, unless it was done inside the wards of Dunscaith Castle.

… …

I stepped into the main sitting room of my castle and suddenly felt oddly uncomfortable. Nothing about the room had changed, nor had the temperature. Yet, as Arcturus and Moire turned to face me, I felt as if I’d suddenly stepped in front of some kind of Ice demon.

Normally Moire had a warm, outgoing personality. One that made it easier to trust her than her sisters, yet the woman who’d looked at me – and made me stop in mid-step as our gazes met – wasn’t the same person I’d gotten to know over the last month. “Ah, Chief MacLeod,” she began, her tone clipped, precise and clinical, “I’m glad to see your previous lesson hasn’t run long, nor that you have arrived late for our session. I dislike when recruits step into a room at the exact moment a session is to begin, thinking that is somehow acceptable.”

“I, um…” I paused and took a moment to collect myself as Arcturus watched the interaction between me and my aunt. “I was taught that if anything is worth doing, then you should do it well, and when required to attend any meeting, arrive with time to settle in and collect one’s thoughts before it is to begin.”

Moire stared back at me; her eyes locked on mine as I moved slowly to a chair at the same table she was sitting at. As I slipped into the chair, I began to think I’d somehow done something wrong only for the torc on my arm to warm suddenly, drawing my attention. The heat was a new one, close to the warnings I’d received when someone had come close to the wards, but different enough that it wasn’t from that.

“Why did you look away?” Moire asked.

I lifted my head, ready to respond only to pause before meeting her gaze. “You… you tried to enter my mind.”

Even though I was meeting her gaze I saw one of Moire’s eyebrows rose. “What makes you say that?”

“The torc warmed up. I know that is a warning, but it wasn’t one I’ve felt before,” I said slowly, measuring my words. “Based on the warning, and what you are here to teach me, then it makes sense that you attempted to either read my mind or at the very least, brush up against it.”

Moire’s lips twitched at the corners. She turned to Arcturus who I saw was sitting further back and had a faint smile on his face. “It appears you were correct about his intelligence, Lord Black,” Arcturus responded with a simple lowering of head to accept the praise as Moire returned her attention to me. “And yes, I did brush up against your thoughts, which was done to show you that while the torc of Clan MacLeod will warn you of attempted intrusions, it can only do so much to prevent a full-on attack.”

I nodded, accepting her words. “What would happen if you forced your way into my mind?”

Moire smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “I haven’t even considered forcing my way into your mind, young Chief. With the rather limited defences you have, if I chose to enter your mind, there is little you could do to sense my presence, to say nothing of detecting what I am doing.” A cold shiver raced up my spine at how certain her tone was. “However, because we are within the wards of Clan MacLeod, then any attempt by me to enter your mind for anything more than the simplest of surface scans would trigger that alert from the torc. At the very least, Lord Black and I would be trapped in this room until such time as we either breached the wards or you decided upon what to do with us for our transgressions. Having seen the wards of this castle deployed for war, even with the decades of experience I and Lord Black possess, I would rate our chances of escaping at less than ten per cent.”

“If the war wards are similar to those around Le Domaine Noir, then I feel you are being overly generous in your assessment Inspector.”

“Perhaps.” She leaned forward. “What I did there was nothing more than the most basic of probes designed to get a sense of your surface emotions and thoughts. An ability that every magical is expected to possess long before they graduate from Hogwarts. Or at least those raised within our position.” She paused and leaned back. “To be clear, I’m not saying that those born in the muggle world cannot be skilled with magics of the mind, simply that they begin at a disadvantage. Now, any who wish to work within the Ministry, regardless of their background, must be certified at Level 3 with both Occlumency and Legilimency.”

She stopped there and I frowned, feeling there was more she wasn’t revealing. “How many levels are there?”

“Officially there are nine levels, though there are few officially recognized individuals ranked above Level 4,” Arcturus offered. “And from what I believe, the certifications of all within the Auror department are restricted to a file that only the Head of the Auror Department, the Minister of Magic, and the Chief Warlock can access. And only if they do so together.”

Moire stayed silent, which only confirmed Arcturus’s statement, and left so much unanswered that I, once again, was left in no doubt that for all the perks and boosts I’d gained before being merged into this world, there were people far more skilled than I at everything. For some, that might make them scared, or want to crawl into a hole, however, I knew when I’d made my choices – for myself and this world – that I was entering a dangerous period, so I wouldn’t be backing down. Not only that I could feel a slight tingle of anticipation at the thought.

“I don’t think you’ll tell me your level, aunt, however, I’m curious enough to ask.”

Moire’s smile grew, though it still lacked any warmth, instead making me feel as if I was standing before an apex predator. “Even if you asked me on my oath, I wouldn’t reveal it. While the magic linked to our home is ancient and powerful, that tied to the Ministry and other Ministries worldwide is more so. What I will tell you is that I am a senior investigator for the Auror Department, and often must speak with witnesses and suspects to determine the truth within their words, thoughts, and emotions.”

I gulped hard, sure now that Moire was an incredible Legilimens. “How,” I paused as my voice sounded several octaves too high. I gulped again and then took a long, deep breath to centre myself. “how can I be sure that anything you teach me today, or in the later sessions, won’t somehow be used against me or the Clan?”

At that, Moire laughed, and while it was over within a single breath, there was some warmth in it. “You are far more paranoid than I had expected. Even after speaking with Lord and Lady Black.” Behind her, I saw the faintest of smiles come onto Arcturus’s face. It only stayed for a moment, but there was pride in it. Yet what replaced it held some distaste or sourness. “To assail you of your concerns, before each session, I will give you an oath; one that ensures that not only will I not reveal anything discussed to any but you and only when we’re in private, but that if any should attempt to enter my mind to access the knowledge it would be lost in the attempt.”

“Okay.” My reply was slow as I was uncertain how exactly I was meant to react to such a promise.

“Where Mind Magic is concerned, vows taken by tutors must be severe,” Arcturus offered, having sensed my uncertainty. “They are being brought in to train, among others, the heirs of powerful families. If they cannot be trusted to teach without using what they’ve discovered in their lessons, then they would be without legal work.”

“That makes sense.”

“I also have, beyond vows to you through our blood, ones I’ve taken as an Auror Investigator. The extraction of memories without consent, beyond carrying punishment right up to life in Azkaban, is inadmissible before any court in the magical world. Except under the direst of circumstances.”

“Then, if you can give a suitable oath, and both Lord Black and I are accepting of it, I will accept your tuition.”

Moire smiled again, though this one was perhaps the worst of the lot. No longer was I facing an apex predator, as somehow I felt as if I was stepping into the den of something much, much worse. “I, Moire O’Callaghan, née MacLeod, Senior Investigator of the British Auror Department, do hereby swear upon my magic that anything I discover within the mind of Chief Dòmhnall Fionnlagh MacLeod during this lesson, or any subsequent lessons, whereupon I teach him the arts of Occlumency and Legilimency, shall not be used by me in any way other than the teaching of Dòmhnall Fionnlagh MacLeod. Nor shall I act in such a manner as to alter his mind or thoughts in any way that grants me or anyone I have connections to, any undue influence upon him. If, for any reason, I fail in this oath, then my life and magic are forfeit. Magica vivimus, magica morimur.”

From the tip of her wand, a bright blue light emerged and slowly spread outward. Given neither Moire nor Arcturus were reacting to it, I stayed still and let it move toward me. As it passed over and through me, I swore I felt the magic in the air shift, as if accepting her oath and forming some sort of bond between us. The, for lack of a better term, pulse, passed over us, dissipating as it reached the walls, ceiling and floor of the room.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“The oath is sufficient,” Arcturus said as he stood. “With it taken, and my purpose as witness served, I shall leave you to your lesson. Dòmhnall, while I will be occupied with official business for the next few weeks on behalf of the Wizengamot, if you have anything you wish to discuss, be it regarding your new lessons or some section of lore and law, do not hesitate to owl me or my wife.” I lowered my head, accepting the offer. “Unless anything does arise, I shall see you again in November.”

I waited in silence, letting Arcturus leave the room. While my lessons with him would go on hold, I knew the dancing classes would continue and others would handle furthering my education in the manners and customs of magical Britain, Europe, and the world. Though to be honest, I hoped there wouldn’t be too much of a deep dive into the history of the magical world. From what I’d already read, things were vastly different from either canon or my former life. The easiest places to see that were in Europe and North America as the countries that existed in the magical world had evolved from what had existed when the Statute of Secrecy had come into effect, and not followed the muggle world. While that made sense, it meant having to learn the names of new countries, cities, and governments which was a pain in the arse.

“Now,” Moire began as the door closed behind Arcturus, “before we begin, I must be clear. You have less than three months before the Winter Solstice Ball. Even if you were a natural with either Occlumency or Legilimency, I doubt you could be certified as a Level 3. Because of this, our session over the next month will focus almost entirely upon Occlumency to grant you some way to, in combination with the torc, be able to sense a mental intrusion.”

I stayed silent, letting my tutor speak. Moire leaned to one side and picked up a book, as she turned it around I saw the title: The Enigma of the Mind: A Beginner's Journey into Occlumency. “This is the standard guide for introducing Occlumency for coursework in Hogwarts. While a particularly useful book for the introduction of the topic, it takes a considerable amount of time for one to learn. And even longer to understand.” She placed the book down on the table and, with a flick of her wand, it slid frictionlessly across the table.

I stopped it once it was close enough, though when I turned it toward me, I saw it was as thick as my wrist. “I expect you, before our session tomorrow, to have read, memorised, and, ideally, understood, the first two chapters,” Moire continued, drawing my attention back to her. “Occlumency is the magical ability to control and shape your mind in ways most can only dream of. At its most basic, it will improve your recall, and grant clarity of thought and emotional insight that can unlock mysteries and difficulties that would otherwise plague you for months if not years. At what is considered intermediate levels, you can construct palaces within your mind to allow complete easy access to your memories while developing defences to ensure that anyone who attempts to breach the walls you’ve built must delve into the deepest, most deranged elements of your mind to learn even a Knut of knowledge. With true skill, dedication, and craft, it is said that one can create entirely fictitious personas to both defend a mind and provide a secondary perspective on key events. And for those with a true gift for the art, the ability to simply cease to be present to any form of psychic detection, rendering themselves as a blank spot which Legilimens simply cannot comprehend and many more abilities.”

I blinked as she gave the run-down of the various things one gifted at Occlumency was capable of. On one hand, those abilities sounded incredible, yet my thoughts dwelled on what sort of attacks would require someone to develop such intricate and elaborate mental defences.

“That is a very valid concern.” I blinked again and leaned back, my hand falling from the book and drifting toward my wand. “There is no need to concern yourself young Dòmhnall. I simply wish you to understand just how open your mind is. Even the most junior Investigators under my command could delve into your mind and sieve through your thoughts without you ever being aware. Though only the truly skilled can do so without alerting the torc. Though I will admit that due to my oath, and our familial connection, it is far easier for me to do than others.” As I stared at her in wide-eyed shock, scared to allow anything to pass through my thoughts for fear she might read them, Moire leaned forward. “Attempting to create a blank mind only allows easier access to deeper, more private thoughts.” She leaned back, a small smile creeping over her face. “Now if blanking a mind is not a suitable defence, what might be?”

“Misdirection.” The words slipped from me without much consideration. “Find a way to think about random things to hide your true intent.”

Moire nodded. “That is one method that can be used. However, against experienced Legilimens, such a technique often fails as people struggle to not think about the topic of conversation. A slightly altered method would be to flood your thoughts with as many odd answers or suggestions that are only tangentially related to the topic.” She paused for a moment. “However, a more effective method begins from learning to develop natural shields. They’ll generally always be active on what some refer to as a standby level, though when around others, those are always raised as high as one can manage. That is where we will begin our lessons today.

“Now, there are several methods that can be used to develop elementary mental shields, and often it is the requirement of such lessons to gently assault the outermost edges of a mind to have shields develop on a reactionary level. However, due to your age, I feel it would be safer, at least for the first week or so, to simply work on stilling your mind. Now, close your eyes and relax.”

I did as she asked, and a moment later the gentle sounds of the sea echoed softly around the room.

“I have magnified the sound because it is something that you hear every day.” Moire’s voice was quieter now. The regal tone was still there, but it had been softened, making it less threatening or disruptive than the sounds of the waves breaking against the rocks far below the castle. “A sound that your mind knows is both familiar and comforting. That will help with what I need you to do next. Now, focus on the sea, on the sound of the water being carried against the cliff by the tide. On the familiar, repeating pattern that brings with it.”

“Good. Very good. Now, let other thoughts, other concerns slip away. They don’t matter, all that matters is the sea and cliffs. The gentle, constant ebb and flow as the Minch pushes water around Skye and the other islands.”

I did as she said, letting the sound be the only thing I cared about, letting everything else drift away, and finding it an oddly comforting sensation. I knew this was the most basic lesson I’d have, but so far it was enjoyable.

… …

----------------------------------------

… …

“I can’t believe you asked me to do this.” That comment came from my ‘date’ for the Winter Solstice Ball, Bellatrix. She stood beside me in a private gathering room at the site of this year’s Winter Solstice Ball. While we’d arrived early with Arcturus and Melania, we had to wait as everyone was expected to be presented to the room with Lords presented in reverse seniority. Then the head of the various departments of the Ministry would be introduced followed by the Minister and Chief Warlock. The last to be presented were the new Lords, which this year included me. “Or why I agreed to it.”

I met the eldest Black sister's gaze, a sly grin curling on my lips. Despite the four-year age gap, her height advantage was inconsequential, given my prolonged exposure to adults. Her gown, a luscious emerald green, adorned with intricate silver embroidery, seemed to possess a life of its own, shimmering with every subtle sway of her form. It was a clever homage to her Hogwarts house, but surprisingly, it harmonized perfectly with my attire. What set it apart were our eyes. While mine held a deep, almost golden yellow, Bellatrix sported a pair of irises as extraordinary as mine. Her left eye, a gentle shade of green, contrasted with her right, which was a piercing blue. Depending on the whims of the light, they could both transform, like chameleons, casting an enchanting spell upon those who beheld them.

“I asked you because I didn’t want to go with your sisters,” I replied softly, a slight smile on my face. “Andromeda would’ve worked but it was clear she didn’t wish to go, and as for Narcissa, I just didn’t feel comfortable.” Truthfully, I didn’t want to go with Narcissa as I’d seen enough signs to hint that Arcturus and Melania were doing their best to ensure that she and I were often near each other. I didn’t know if they were doing that because the other two were spoken for, or if they simply felt Narcissa was the best choice due to our ages, but it was irritating me. As for Andromeda, while she was friendly and didn’t seem to care too much about my title – at least as openly as Narcissa and a few of my cousins did – I wanted to go with Bellatrix because of the three, she was regarded in canon as the most powerful and dangerous.

“Yet you feel that with me?” Bellatrix asked as she looked down at me. A smirk crept onto her features, one that, if events played out the way they had in canon, would one day terrify all but the most powerful of wizards and witches.

“Morgana no,” I said quickly. “Honestly, you scare me a little, but what’s the point if I can’t play with danger?”

Bellatrix stared at me for a long moment, and I wondered what was going through her head. “You’re not what they think you are.” I frowned, wondering who ‘they’ were. Most likely, she was talking about her friends and housemates at Hogwarts. While I was young, I was sure my existence, and the fact, unlike their fellow students who’d stood before the Wizengamot, I was the Chief of my House made me a topic of discussion. However, I’d be surprised if I was still talked about as it’d been months since my public reveal and school life always had something more interesting to become the focus of attention.

“Thank you. I think.” She laughed happily, which was only the third time I’d heard her do so since I’d met her over the Winter Break from Hogwarts. She wasn’t serious in the sense that she didn’t seem to enjoy herself, but there was an edge to her. One that, knowing what I did, hinted at a sadistic streak. Or, having seen her interact with her mother, a distinct lack of interest in the gossip and questions she was seemingly expected to enjoy as a young lady of a noble house. A trait she shared with Andromeda.

“I’ll give you that my sisters are beneath me, but wouldn’t one of your cousins have been a better choice?”

I shuddered in an overly dramatic manner. “Hell no. If I’d chosen any of them, even Talulla, then it would’ve likely caused my aunts to shift their opinions of me. I know they, like Lord and Lady Black, want me to pick their daughter – or niece in your case – to suggest I might be open to marrying that girl once I’m older.” Bellatrix scowled, and thinking I’d inadvertently found a sore point for her, I kept going. “With you, I don’t have that worry. I’m far too young for your liking.”

Bellatrix’s smile grew and she leaned closer. She took a deep breath of my hair before leaning down further. “Are you so sure of that?” she whispered. I froze at her tone yet relaxed when she pulled back and laughed freely again. “Merlin! Don’t be so scared. I won’t bite you. Not on the first date.”

“What about a second?” I shot back without thinking.

She blinked rapidly, seemingly caught out by the question before throwing her head back and laughing loudly.

“Bellatrix!” the hissed warning came from Melania who along with Arcturus was standing in the waiting room, waiting for their summons. While Melania’s tone was firm, and her gaze hard there was a slight twitching of her lips that concerned me. I’d hoped that choosing Bellatrix would save me from questions and glances from Melania and my aunts, but it seemed since Bellatrix was seemingly enjoying herself, that it was giving Melania ideas.

As Melania turned back, her head leaning toward Arcturus, I had the sudden sinking feeling that my plan may well have backfired. At least the plan was to avoid them trying to set me up with someone in the hopes of a future marriage. Oh, I knew none of them would push the topic, not least as betrothals could only be announced when both parties were thirteen, but I felt that discussions for them often began not long after the children reached Hogwarts.

As far as I knew, Bellatrix wasn’t betrothed to anyone yet, but I also knew Arcturus would be fielding offers and discussing the matter with her parents. Since she and her sister weren’t from the main branch, I felt they’d have a little more leeway in their options, but would still be used as fodder to build alliances. If that was why Bellatrix had been forced to marry Rodolphus Lestrange, then it did go some way to explaining her behaviour as what little was covered about him and his brother in canon suggested they were arseholes.

A chime drew me from my thoughts, and I looked toward the door. Or more specifically, a plaque beside it. When Arcturus and Melania’s names appeared on it, I sighed in relief. House Black was one of the oldest houses in magical Britain which meant I wouldn’t have to wait much longer in this room. Of course, the downside was that I’d soon be forced to face every Lord, Lady, Chief, Chiefess, senior figure from the Ministry, the Chief Warlock, and Merlin-knew how many dignitaries from foreign nations.

“Kill me now,” I muttered as the door closed behind the Blacks.

“If you want.”

I looked at Bellatrix, and seeing an impish smile on her face, laughed. “As much as it would get me out of this… event, I think killing a Chief would result in a long stint in Azkaban for you.” I paused and looked into her eyes. “Somehow that feels like a waste of talent.”

Bellatrix shivered when I mentioned Azkaban but hid it quickly behind another smile. “Yes, I do think I have a higher purpose in life than that.”

I turned back to the door. “Oh, I was meaning me. You there might not be a bad thing.”

Her shoulder slammed into my side, and I stumbled away. As I recovered, my hand moved toward my wand, only for my body to freeze. “Now, now. I know you’re young, but didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to attack a lady.”

The spell holding me in place ended. Caught off-guard, I fell to the ground, my knee slamming into the hard floor. I ground my teeth to avoid grunting in pain, and then pushed myself up. As I brushed down my robes and ensured the slash of Clan MacLeod wasn’t ruffled, I glared at Bellatrix. She smirked in response, her wand held gently between her thumb and forefinger.

“You know, I think I might enjoy this after all.”

“And I’m regretting my choices,” I replied, making her smirk shift into a smile. As she slipped her wand back into a holster that I couldn’t see as it was disillusioned, I moved back to her side. “Though I still think you’re more fun than what awaits us beyond those doors.”

“No comment.” Her response made me chuckle, and when I stopped, the room fell into an oddly comfortable silence.

The chime sounded again, and I looked at the plaque. As it displayed my name along with a notice to my guest. Since we weren’t betrothed, never mind married, it wasn’t required for me to say who I was bringing. While I’d have preferred to not have any date, that would be unseemly. Even, apparently, for a not-quite eight-year-old Chief.

As the doors opened, I offered my arm. With a sigh, Bellatrix placed her hand, covered in a black silk glove that reached to her elbow, on my arm. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends.”

“I prefer MacBeth,” Bellatrix commented as we stepped through the doors and arrived in a lavishly decorated corridor.

My eyes were drawn to shifting platinum stylings and blinked at seeing a miniature wizard wave at us and then point to our right. Turning, we moved down the corridor, the platinum wizard moved with us, suggesting he was there to act as our guide. The corridor banked to the left after about a dozen steps, and as we rounded the long turn, I saw a possibly young couple step through the large wooden doors. Beyond them, I could see the banquet hall, yet no sound reached us meaning the doors were charmed to ensure the sounds in the hall didn’t echo down the corridor.

The wizard at our side sent sparks into the air, making us stop. Those continued until the doors closed and it then waved us on.

“I’m surprised they don’t just use elves,” I muttered as we neared the doors. They looked to be over two metres tall, were a soft reddish-brown and had intricate patterns engraved into them, inlaid with what appeared to be onyx, lapis, and jade.

“Sure, they have a reason for not doing that, though if they’re anything like your elf, I think they should.”

I smiled, glad to see Kadic getting some respect. If not for him, I’d have died when I brought down the orphanage. He then nursed me back to health and ever since has been the one I trusted above all else.

“Names.”

I almost stumbled as what I thought was a platinum semi-circle on the door moved and spoke. “Uh… Chief Dòmhnall Fionnlagh MacLeod and my date, Bellatrix Black.”

The lips merged back together, reforming the semi-circle of platinum and if it had not just spoken, I’d never have known it could do that. The doors then swung open, revealing the banquet hall.

Most people were gathered in the centre of the room, on what had to be the dance floor. It appeared to be a single giant tile of glittering white marble with shots of red, yellow, green, and blue racing around seemingly at random. Around the sides of the room were large tables, each seating sixteen chairs. Everything was expensive, well-maintained, and lavish, which is about what I’d expected after seeing the furniture at Dunscaith Castle and Le Domaine Noir.

“Presenting Chief Dòmhnall Fionnlagh MacLeod and Lady Bellatrix Black.”

The door spoke as we stepped through and the soft, gentle music suddenly reached our ears. I couldn’t instantly place the piece, but it wasn’t fast-paced and seemed to serve only as background music. Around the hall, several people on the floor looked up from their discussions and glanced our way as the door announced us. However, my attention was on the small group waiting at the base of the stairs that led down from our entrance point.

The stairs were wide, made of the same wood as the door we’d come through and covered in a lush burgundy carpet. One that, as I took my first step down, seemed to all but caress my shoe.

Arcturus and Melania were standing near the base of the steps, and with them, I saw Charlus Potter and several other older Lords. All had turned to face us, and from the group of elder statesmen stepped a younger man. That was Nobby Leach, the Minister of Magic. His robes were a wild, garish blue with patterns shifting in them in ways that made it hard to not be distracted by them. As he moved, two older men moved to his sides. Those I recognized as the Chief Warlock and head of the DMLE.

“Chief MacLeod, I’m honoured that you are able to attend this Ball,” Minister Leach said as he approached. His hand was aimed low, making clear he expected me to reach up to shake it. “I hope you won’t feel out of place surrounded by all these old stuffy men.”

While his tone was polite, I still remembered how he’d reacted to my appearance in the Wizengamot, and how he’d seemed to not want me to become Chief. With that in mind, I stopped a few steps from the bottom of the staircase, and as Bellatrix stayed at my side, reached out and shook the Minister’s hand.

Minister Leach paused, seemingly unsure of why I’d stopped, though behind him I saw faint hints of amusement on the faces of several, including Arcturus and the head of the DMLE. Eventually, the Minister realised why I’d stopped, and – in my opinion – slightly reluctantly, moved closer to shake my hand. “And I thank you for the invite, Minister, even if my presence is a little odd.” While I was still below him, the two steps granted enough height that I wasn’t at a huge disadvantage. While I’d likely irritated the Minister, his behaviour at the Wizengamot had irked me, as had the move to have me come to him and reach up dramatically to shake his hand.

“Yes,” the Minister said as we stopped shaking. “I’m not sure you’ve met Chief Warlock, Augustus Colvin, or the head of the DMLE, Richard Edevane.”

I moved off the steps and shook hands with both older men. “A pleasure, Lord Colvin, Lord Edevane.”

The Minister had chosen to miss out on the fact both men were Lords of Ancient Houses, which I took as another slight in the hope I’d make a fool of myself. However, thanks to months of lessons with Arcturus, Melania, Katrina, Moire, and others I knew the names of every Lord, Chief and Chiefess present, along with their spouses or betrothed and House words. Emotionless Recall plus basic Occlumency was a rather broken combo, even if one of the first things Occlumency allowed me to do was exactly what Emotionless Recall did, that of recalling every memory I had emotionlessly. While that did make the trait slightly redundant, the boost it offered when learning Occlumency had been picked up on by Moire who’d remarked that I appeared to have a natural skill with the art.

“A pleasure to meet you, Chief MacLeod,” Lord Edevane replied, hints of his accent confirming his Welsh heritage. “While I can’t say I was close with your father, your grandfather was once a good friend, and I hope in future that I, or my heir and grandchildren might rekindle that friendship with your Clan.”

“I hope that as well, Lord Edevane. I’ve read some of my grandfather’s journals, and while he wasn’t always polite in his opinion when you disagreed,” Edevane grinned, “he did respect your passion for various matters. Including the security and safety of our world.”

“Yes, Richard is very much a believer in a strong Auror force,” Augustus Colvin said as I moved to shake his hand. “Something that often places him at odds with other members of the Wizengamot and the Ministry.”

“The line between security and surrendering our freedoms is a fine line. One, like many other issues, I’m happy to say I don’t have to concern myself with for a good few more years.” The older men chuckled in agreement, though I noticed the Minister seemed irked that I was seemingly ignoring him.

However, before anything else could be said, the doors at the top of the stairs spoke. “Presenting Chief Fearchar MacKinnon and his wife, Lady Alexandria Douglas.”

Understanding that my moment to meet the Minister and the two department heads was over, I stepped away. Seeing Arcturus and Melania nearby, I moved toward them.

“He’s an ass,” Bellatrix muttered once we were clear of the Minister. “Why did he get elected?”

I kept quiet, not wanting to discuss politics, though as we neared her uncle and others, I made note of the fact she clearly disliked Minister Leach, with an implication that it was because he was Muggleborn. For me, the issue was that he had chosen to be an arse from the first moment I’d met him which had soured me on him, not his status. However, if he was one of those who felt that just because he was from the Muggle World he was somehow better than those who were born, raised, and lived in the Magical World for centuries, then that would be another mark against him. I would, however, reserve judgment on him until after I was older and had time to observe the policies he pushed.

“Very well handled,” Arcturus said once we were close enough to speak without it being unseemly.

“Indeed, it was.” That came from Charlus Potter, who had turned to face me and Bellatrix with Arcturus as we’d approached. “While I don’t think any insult was intended, your reaction was well within your rights as a Chief.” He paused, a wide smile coming to his face and clicked his fingers. “Ah, that’s why I’m confused by your appearance. You look remarkably like a young nephew of Lord Black’s I met several months ago outside Gringotts.”

“An unexpected occurrence, though since my grandmother was a Black, I can’t say it isn’t possible that I share a similarity with some distant Black scion.” I chuckled at the reminder and extended my hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Potter.”

“And you, Chief MacLeod.” He broke the shake and looked at my date. “Though this is the first time we’ve officially met, I cannot say the same for your date. Hello Bellatrix.”

“Uncle Charlus, Aunt Dorea,” Bellatrix replied rather stiffly as Charlus took her hand and kissed her knuckles. I did the same with Dorea Potter, née Black.

“I’m surprised to see you here dear,” Dorea said after the greeting had taken place. “From what I recall, your distaste for these events has been clear ever since Lord Arcturus’s Summer Ball three years past.”

I looked at Bellatrix, wondering what Dorea was speaking about. Bellatrix went still, as if embarrassed by the event, though she recovered quickly. “I still do, Aunt Dorea. However, after meeting Chief Dòmhnall at the start of the school holiday, I found myself curious about him and accepted his offer to attend.” She turned and smirked at me. “So far, I’ve found him better company than my last date.”

The adults chuckled at that, and I knew I was missing the story. However, any chance to ask about it was pushed aside as more Lords, Ladies, Chiefs and Chiefesses came closer. Some I recognized from the Wizengamot session I’d attended, but others I didn’t.

Steeling myself for the attention I was going to have to endure for the rest of the evening, I turned with Arcturus and Charlus to greet the approaching nobles.

… …

----------------------------------------

… …