A Portrait of The Black Heiress (Harry Potter)

Chapter III: Say The Word And I Will Drill A Hole Into Your Skull

When Aglaia was ten, a few months before she left for Hogwarts, she took her first trip abroad with her father. Classes with Narcissa had largely come to an end and Aglaia's guardians were of the opinion that there was not much more they could teach her until she gained possession of a wand on her eleventh birthday. Her father took this opportunity by taking her on a trip across several countries. 

They started off in Paris, as most wizards tended to do. France was the birthplace of some of the most prominent wizarding families in Europe. Almost all of the great British wizarding families had French roots, like the Malfoys who had migrated to England with their close friend William the Conquerer in 1066. 

The Lestranges were even more closely related to their French counterparts. Most Lestranges had chosen to leave the tiny pureblood pool of England and had, instead, married French aristocrats. Pretty much every generation had one English-born parent and one French one and therefore, the Lestranges were more French than English. This hadn't caused any xenophobia, though, as the general area of French-speaking countries in Europe had the largest population of wizards left in the world. 

The main branch of the Most Noble and Ancient Lestrange family had a British nationality. They had been naming most of their firstborn sons Corvus, to indicate their superiority. But what an unfortunate name to give your child. No wonder that branch had practically died out a few decades before. Now, there was just Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange. They officially weren't called Lestrange. They weren't born into the family. Their great-grandfather had been a Lestrange, and they were grandsons of a maternal line. Aglaia believed the two brothers were born Carrows, like the twins in Aglaia's class. However, when the main line died out, they were the only living male heirs. They inherited most of the fortune and were required to take the Lestrange name, which neither of them minded. Lestrange was a noble family, Carrow was not. So, to not just inherit a fortune, but also a prestigious family name, must have been an easy choice to make for the brothers. They were both in Azkaban now. Their fortune was locked away in Gringotts. Who knows who would be the next-in-line to inherit that cursed gold. 

While in Paris, Regulus managed to gain access to the Lestrange Mausoleum. The mausoleum wasn't meant to receive public, it wasn't like the palaces of the D'Aramis or the gardens of the De La Fleur. It was a private final resting place that even the Lestranges themselves avoided because their ancestors were notoriously reluctant to die. It was haunted by generations of French wizards who didn't like the idea of their graves being desecrated by outsiders. Therefore, only Lestranges were allowed to enter the building. Anyone lacking that blood-relation would never come out again

The mausoleum was a huge, stone baroque-style building in the Cimetière du Père-Lachaise in the north-east of Paris. Aglaia had been to cemeteries before, even inherently magical ones like the Celtic one she had visited a few years back. But none loomed over her the way the Lestrange mausoleum did. It was cold around the building, as if it was filled with Dementors, sucking away at the souls of the dead and whoever else dared to enter the sacred place. Why her father even wanted to be anywhere near her was a mystery to her. The Lestranges didn't have the habit of being buried with their treasures, and her father didn't seem like the type to become sentimental over some dead wizards in a coffin. 

Add to that the fact that Aglaia wasn't even sure if they were closely enough related to the ancient family to be here, she was heavily doubting her father's motives. Getting into the building was the easy part. Getting out was the issue. 

He had ordered her to stay outside, hidden in the eerie mist that seemed to surround the cemetery. She saw a few ghosts pass by as she waited. They seemed as surprised to see her anywhere near the mausoleum as she was to see them so satisfied with living in a cemetery. How positively dreadful to spent eternity in this gloomy place.