Adele Black: The End

A Box In The Hutch

Adele Black: The End

A Box in the Hutch

It was a week after the events at dinner that I sat on the couch in the living room at Grimmuald Place, Hermione next to me with Harry and Ron on the floor. Draco sat across from all of us on the arm chair. The tension in the room was worse than the romantic tension between Percy and Annabeth ever was.

"Should we do an ice breaker? To get rid of the tension?" I asked.

"What the bloody hell is an ice breaker?" Ron asked.

"It's basically... where you introduce yourselves and say a fun fact about yourself," I replied.

"So like... My name is Draco Malfoy, and my favorite ice cream flavor is rocky road?" Draco asked.

I nodded. "Exactly like that. Now—"

"Your favorite flavor of ice cream is rocky road?" Ron asked Draco incredulously.

Draco shrugged. "Cookies and cream is a close second."

"Anyways... I'm Hermione Granger, and my favorite flavor of ice cream is... I don't know, cookie dough?"

"Solid choice," Ron and Draco said at the same time. They looked over at each other and grimaced. The tension that had evaporated from the air made a sudden reappearance.

"I'm Harry Potter. I like strawberry and peanut butter ice cream."

Draco, Hermione and I looked at him like he was a hydra that had grown back two heads that had party hats on them.

"That's disgusting Harry. Anyways... I'm Ron Weasley and I like cookies and cream ice cream."

"Right! I'm Adele Black, and my favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla!" I smiled, only to receive an abundant of outburst.

"Vanilla? That's boring!" Harry said.

"It's worse than that strawberry and peanut-butter flavor," Draco retorted.

"I have to agree with him there," Ron echoed.

"You put toppings on it, right?" Harry asked.

I nodded, "I put chocolate syrup and whipped cream on it."

"Good that you add some flavor to it," Ron said.

I continued, in a more somber tone, "When I have nectar and ambrosia, that's what it tastes like. It has for as long as I can remember, and I'm not sure why."

"Ambrosia and nectar... where have I heard of that before?" Draco wondered aloud, his voice tapering off as if he was trying to go through a file cabinet full of memories.

"I don't know why or where you would have. It's not a thing in the wizard world as far as I know," I stated, frustrated as to why I couldn't figure it out.

Hermione's face lit up. "I remember when we cleaned out this place in fifth year, in this one room there was tiny chest with Ancient Greek symbols on it in a drawer that had a bunch of—"

I cut her off. "Where is that drawer, Hermione? What room?"

"I think it was in—"

"—the drawing room, where the boggart was," Ron finished.

"Okay, let's go."

And so we went, through the gloomy hallways, past all the portraits and heads of house elves on the wall, and finally to the drawing room.

"Wait, how many rooms are in this place?" Draco asked in wonder as he looked around.

"I'm not too sure. I'm not sure how much your parents would have talked about this place, though," I replied. "Besides, my father never really talked about this place with any joy. He hated it here. It was just like another prison to him."

Draco was silent. Hermione went over to one of the big hutches, and motioned for me to come over. The hutch was dark, much like the rest of the furniture, and had handles on the doors that were gold. Through the glass there were little knick knacks, including crystal vials that had what looked like blood in them. Tentatively, I grasped the golden handle to one of the drawers and slowly opened it. Hermione was right— there was a box.

It was oak, and sure enough, there was writing on it. "Property of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," I mumbled, running my fingers over the golden writing.

"You can read that? And know what it says?" Draco asked in awe.

"Demigods' brains are hardwired to read Ancient Greek. It's why they often have, we what was it?" Ron responded.

"Dyslexia," Harry finished.

"What the hell is that? Some sort of sickness?" Draco asked. The idea must of been completely foreign to him.

"In a way, I guess," I shrugged as I opened the box. Inside of it were little squares of ambrosia kept neatly in a small bowl. Next to it in the box was a small bottle that said Nectar in Ancient Greek. I brought my finger tips to the ambrosia, and noticed that it wasn't hard or expired, but then again, that was just the work of the Gods. I picked up the bottle of nectar and tried to open up the stopper, only for it to be shut so tight that if must not have been used in a very long time.

"This looks like it was from years ago," I said, putting the vial back in the box.

"Do you think Sirius could have had it here for safe keeping?" Harry asked.

I shook my head. "Definitely not. I might not have known him all too well, but I do know that he hated this place with every fiber of his being. There's no reason that this should be here, but..." I trailed off.

"But what?" Hermione asked.

I took a deep breath, turned around to face Ron, Hermione, Harry and Draco, and sighed, "Somebody else in the Black family had or has the blood of the Gods running through their veins."