Black Fortunes

Chapter 10

April 1976

Sirius Orion Black glowered at the Daily Prophet, more accurately the 'social' section. The photograph of his father escorting Lord Peverell to a fancy private restaurant in Austria stared back up at him. Both men were dressed with the casual, dismissive elegance that seemed to be a pureblood's right and heritage and there was a small smile on his father's face.

That smile. He had never seen such an expression on his father's face around their mother, only rarely directed at him. True he had hardly been around his father by choice when he was old enough to notice and when he had he acted out, loathing his family's 'proper Dark heritage'. It was for this Dark heritage and another private reason that he had sent back his father's birthday gift unopened.

Nobody in his family knew the main reason why he loathed almost everything that came with the name Black. Only one person knew and since he was one of the main causes for Sirius' hurt and anger he highly doubted that the man in question would bother asking about it. All anyone knew was that he loathed the name Black and the Slytherins that carried that name to a fervor that startled all of his friends and acquaintances.

He glared at the photo again, angrily staring at the man who had caught his father's attention. When his father undoubtedly bonded with Lord Peverell he would be well and truly replaced in his father's affections and any chance of reconciliation with his family would be gone. After all, male pregnancy wasn't that uncommon amongst pureblood families and his father was far from being past the age where he could still sire sons.

He flung the paper from him with a rage that startled even his fellow Gryffindors and stalked out of the Great Hall, seeking the distraction of his first class. Potions with Slytherin, wonderful, he thought with a sarcastic snarl.

Since he hardly paid any attention to the table of green and silver now, he didn't notice the concerned frown on a face that almost mirrored his own, nor the piece of parchment that his observer removed from a book bag and began to write a letter upon.

Harrigan laughed at something his companion had said and looked around in the ensuing silence. He had been invited to Malfoy Manor and was stunned at the simple elegance of the home. For some reason, his mind had conjured dark woods, heavy drapes, and black tile floors with an abundance of snakes. The truth couldn't be farther from that image if Harry had mentioned it aloud for someone to take down.

Huge open floor-to-ceiling windows dominated the wall facing a remarkably beautiful sunset. The pinks, gold, and reds filtered through crystal panes and shattered a mosaic of light onto the pure white carpet, deep enough that Harrigan was visited by a strange desire to remove his shoes and wiggle his toes in it. The furniture in this gorgeous 'visiting room' was all cherry, polished to a high gloss, and varying from light to a rich dark reddish-purple. The cushions on the multitude of soft chairs and the two couches were silver with rich purple accent pillows, the Malfoy family crest in fine gold stitchery that could hardly be felt, let alone seen.

Orion, who had escorted him to this gathering, informed him that the family's official colors were silver and purple, fitting in well with the Black family whose official colors were black and silver. His own colors were emerald green and bronze, hence the color of his robes on the day he had claimed his seat on the Wizengamot.

The soft murmur of many conversations filled the room along with the slight chink of fine crystal flutes as lovely champagne from the family cellars was passed around, to appreciation from the guests. Abraxas was a very good host, though he had informed Harrigan wryly that these occasions had become much more pleasant with the death of his private shrew Belladonna. In his own words, she had made these occasions very uncomfortable with her malignant, oppressive presence lingering in the air like a foul odor.