Blake POV
When I woke the following morning, the castle was still wrapped in silence. Most students were either sleeping after the examinations or preparing to leave for the summer holidays, but I had no such luxury. Kreacher was already waiting for me in the Ravenclaw common room, standing perfectly still beside the fireplace with his hands folded behind his back.
"Good morning, Miss Blake," he said with a respectful bow. "Master Arcturus is waiting for you."
"I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to Alastair."
Kreacher merely lowered his head.
"If Miss Blake is ready."
I nodded before stepping toward him. A moment later, the familiar sensation of Side-Along Apparition enveloped us, and the common room disappeared.
When my feet touched solid ground once more, I found myself standing inside Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
Grandfather Arcturus was already waiting in the entrance hall.
He was dressed entirely in black, his robes immaculate despite the solemn occasion.
"Blake, you're here," he said, his voice as calm as ever. "Go upstairs and change. Kreacher has already laid out suitable clothes in your room. After that, come downstairs for breakfast. There are a few things we should discuss before we leave."
"I will, Grandfather."
I headed upstairs without delay. True to his word, Kreacher had already prepared everything. A neatly folded set of formal black robes rested upon the bed, accompanied by polished shoes and every accessory appropriate for a Black family funeral. After changing, I took one last look in the mirror to ensure everything was presentable before returning downstairs.
Kreacher had prepared a simple breakfast consisting of toast, eggs, fruit, and tea. The atmosphere around the table was noticeably quieter than usual, and even the house-elf moved about with less enthusiasm than he normally displayed.
I took the seat beside Grandfather.
He waited until Kreacher had poured our tea before speaking.
"Blake, the funeral will be held at the Black family mausoleum behind the estate. The deceased was your great-grandfather through your grandmother's side of the family. His name was Pollux Black."
I nodded quietly, allowing him to continue.
"His wife, Irma Black, née Crabbe, will naturally be present. You will also meet your granduncle, Cygnus Black, as well as your grandaunt, Lucretia Prewett, née Black. Lucretia is my daughter."
"I understand."
"There will also be a handful of close family friends attending the service. I shall introduce you to each of them, so be sure to greet them appropriately."
"I will."
Grandfather fell silent for a brief moment before adding something that made me look at him in confusion.
"Whatever happens today, do not lose your temper. No matter what anyone says, simply remain calm."
I frowned.
"Why would I get angry?"
A trace of weariness crossed his face.
"Because while everyone attending today is family, not all of them welcomed the decision to bring you into House Black. Some have never accepted the fact that you spent the first eleven years of your life in a Muggle orphanage."
His expression remained composed, yet I could tell this was not idle speculation.
He fully expected someone to test me.
"I see," I replied after a moment. "Don't worry, Grandfather. I won't embarrass you."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"I know you won't. I simply wanted you to be prepared."
By the time we arrived at the Black estate, most of the guests had already gathered.
It was my first visit to the ancestral home of House Black, and despite everything I had heard over the past few months, the manor still managed to exceed my expectations. Unlike many noble residences that attempted to display their wealth through excessive ornamentation, bright colours, or extravagant decorations, Black Manor possessed a far more restrained elegance. Dark stone walls, towering columns, and meticulously maintained gardens surrounded the estate, while every corridor and every piece of furniture reflected centuries of history. Nothing about the manor demanded attention, yet everything about it quietly proclaimed the prestige of one of Britain's oldest noble families.
As soon as we entered the entrance hall, an elderly witch stepped forward to greet us.
"Father, you're here," she said warmly. "Everyone is waiting for you."
Her gaze soon shifted toward me, softening slightly.
"You must be Blake. I had hoped our first meeting would be under happier circumstances."
"Hello, Aunt Lucretia," I replied politely.
She chuckled.
"Grand-aunt, to be precise, although I certainly don't mind feeling a little younger."
A small smile found its way onto my face.
"I'll remember that."
"Good," she said with an amused nod before gesturing for us to follow. "Come. Everyone is already inside."
She led us into one of the manor's reception rooms, where the remaining guests were quietly conversing while awaiting the beginning of the funeral service.
There were not many people present, just as Grandfather had said.
The gathering consisted almost entirely of close family and a handful of lifelong friends.
I immediately spotted Narcissa Malfoy sitting beside her husband, Lucius, while near the centre of the room sat an elderly witch confined to a wheelchair.
Irma Black.
Despite her age, there remained a quiet dignity in her bearing as relatives approached one after another to offer their condolences.
Seated a short distance away was Cygnus Black.
He briefly looked in my direction, his expression unreadable, before returning to the conversation he had been having with another elderly wizard, as though I were of no particular interest.
The funeral itself was conducted with the solemn dignity expected of an ancient pure-blood family. There were no lengthy speeches or extravagant displays of grief. Instead, family members gathered within the Black mausoleum behind the estate, where Pollux Black was laid to rest among generations of his ancestors. One by one, friends and relatives paid their respects before quietly offering their condolences to the family, and by late afternoon the guests gradually began taking their leave.
Only the immediate family and a few of their closest companions remained behind for dinner.
When we entered the dining hall, the long ebony table had already been prepared. Grandfather took his customary seat at the head of the table, naturally assuming the position of head of House Black. I found myself seated near the far end beside Aunt Narcissa, while Lucius excused himself shortly after the funeral, having business that required his attention elsewhere.
As house elves began placing the first dishes upon the table, the conversation remained polite, subdued, and almost unnaturally restrained, as though everyone present was carefully waiting for someone else to speak first.
Grandfather calmly set down his cutlery before allowing his gaze to travel around the table, lingering on each member of the family in turn.
"So," he said at last, his tone perfectly even, "none of you old bones intend to introduce yourselves to your great-granddaughter and grandniece?"
No one answered immediately.
His eyes eventually settled on Cygnus.
"Cygnus," he continued, "if memory serves, Regulus was always your favourite, was he not?"
Cygnus slowly raised his head and looked first at Grandfather before turning his attention toward me. There was no warmth in his eyes, only open disdain.
"She is not Regulus," he replied coldly. "I've already received reports that she freely associates with Muggle-borns at Hogwarts. You had no right to bring her into House Black without first discussing the matter with the rest of us."
His expression hardened further.
"And then there is the matter of the heirship. Passing the Black family to a girl..." He shook his head with obvious disapproval. "What a disgrace. We had already intended to raise the matter of expelling her from the family during this year's family meeting."
Not a single person interrupted him.
Grandfather merely regarded him with the same calm expression he had worn since dinner began.
"Passing the family to a girl?" he repeated, almost amused. "Tell me, Cygnus, what other option exactly did you expect me to choose?"
Cygnus remained silent.
"You and your generation have already led this family to the edge of ruin," Grandfather continued, his voice never rising despite the weight of his words. "The Black family has spent decades shrinking because pride mattered more to some of you than preserving your own bloodline. Now, when I finally choose an heir capable of ensuring our future, you suddenly discover your objections."
He leaned back slightly.
"As for the family meeting, you are naturally aware that overturning a decision made by the Head of House requires the agreement of three elders."
His gaze drifted briefly toward the empty place that would forever remain vacant.
"There were only four of us."
A heavy silence settled over the dining hall.
"I suppose," Grandfather concluded without the slightest hint of emotion, "it is fortunate that Pollux did not live long enough to attend that meeting."
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