The words fell upon the dining hall like a hammer.
Every conversation ceased instantly. The quiet clinking of knives and forks disappeared as every pair of eyes turned toward Grandfather. Even the house-elves standing silently against the walls lowered their heads, sensing the sudden change in atmosphere.
Cygnus stared at Grandfather in disbelief, his face flushed with anger.
"ARCTURUS!"
The elderly witch slammed one hand against the dining table as she struggled to rise from her wheelchair, the other already drawing her wand despite her trembling arm.
Grandfather did not so much as flinch.
"Irma," he said calmly, his voice carrying effortlessly through the silent hall, "sit back down."
She ignored him, her wand still pointed in his direction.
"I understand your grief. Pollux's death saddens me as well. He was my cousin, and I have no desire to speak ill of the dead. However, if any one of you so much as attempts to harm my heir or conspires against her behind my back, I will personally see to it that every last one of you pays the price."
His tone never rose.
If anything, its calmness made the threat all the more frightening.
Irma's arm trembled violently as she tried to remain standing, but age finally won. Her strength gave out, and she slowly sank back into her wheelchair, breathing heavily.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Cygnus clenched his fists beneath the table before speaking through gritted teeth.
"Even if Father is gone, we still have Nar—"
"Narcissa," Grandfather interrupted before he could finish, "ceased to be a member of House Black the moment she married into House Malfoy. She surrendered both her privileges and her authority to involve herself in the affairs of this family. The only reason I have continued listening to her opinions over the years is because she is my granddaughter."
Narcissa lowered her eyes without offering the slightest objection.
Cygnus's expression darkened even further.
"And this..." He looked directly at me, contempt plain upon his face. "This girl whose mother we cannot even identify. We don't even know which bitch gave birth to her."
My fingers instinctively reached for my wand beneath the table.
Before I could draw it, a gentle hand rested upon my wrist.
I turned to my side.
Aunt Narcissa met my gaze and gave the faintest shake of her head.
Taking a slow breath, I forced myself to release my wand.
Cygnus either failed to notice or simply didn't care.
"When the Dark Lord returns," he continued with absolute conviction, "how exactly am I supposed to explain this disgrace within House Black?"
Something inside me finally snapped.
I gently but firmly removed Aunt Narcissa's hand from my wrist before pushing back my chair and rising to my feet.
"There will be no explanations to Voldemort," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "He is dead, and he is the reason my father is dead."
The moment his name left my lips, the entire dining hall froze.
Several faces paled.
Others looked toward the doors almost instinctively, as though expecting the Dark Lord himself to appear for speaking his name aloud.
I paid none of them any attention.
"And even if he somehow returns," I continued, my eyes never leaving Cygnus, "you will not associate with him in any capacity. There will be no political support, no financial support, and no assistance offered by House Black."
Every word echoed through the silent hall.
"If any member of this family dares to ignore that command, then I, Blake Lyra Black, Heir of House Black, will personally see to your expulsion from this family. Every vault, every property, every investment, and every asset tied to House Black that remains in your possession will be reclaimed. Even the roof over your head belongs to the House before it belongs to you."
Cygnus shot to his feet so violently that his chair scraped loudly across the stone floor.
"How dare you!" he roared. "How dare you speak the Dark Lord's name so casually? And you think you would dare expel me?"
I met his furious gaze without the slightest hesitation.
"I dare."
The two simple words seemed to hang in the air longer than the speech that had preceded them.
Only then did I turn toward Aunt Narcissa.
"I like you, Aunt Narcissa," I said quietly, my tone softening slightly. "That is precisely why I'm telling you this. You should seriously reconsider the path your family is taking if you don't want Draco to grow up as someone else's pawn, just as his father has."
Narcissa lowered her eyes, her expression becoming difficult to read.
Without waiting for anyone to respond, I turned toward the head of the table.
"Family Head," I said respectfully, "I believe I've lost my appetite. With your permission, I'd like to retire for the evening."
Grandfather regarded me for a brief moment before giving small nod with his head.
"Kreacher."
The house-elf appeared instantly beside me with a sharp crack.
"Miss Blake."
"Home."
Kreacher took my hand, and a moment later the dining hall of Black Manor vanished around us.
When I arrived back at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, I climbed the stairs without speaking to anyone. The moment I closed the bedroom door behind me, every ounce of composure I had forced myself to maintain throughout dinner finally crumbled.
I sat down on the edge of the bed before slowly collapsing backward onto the mattress.
The confidence I had displayed only moments earlier disappeared completely.
Hot tears welled in my eyes and rolled silently down my cheeks as I buried my face against the pillow, allowing myself to grieve for everything I had lost and everything I had been forced to become.
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