Upon hearing the doors of the hall open, Arcturus, who was absorbed in reading his newspaper, briefly looked up towards the entrance and blinked, surprised at the scene before him. Narcissa and Asterion entered the hall hand in hand. The old Black patriarch wasn't surprised by the closeness between the two; they had grown very close over these five months. Instead, he was taken aback by the attire his great-grandson was wearing at that moment.
Unlike his usual attire, which consisted of elegant suits or something more casual like black pants and white shirts, Asterion was wearing, at that moment, an elegant suit, but unlike his usual black color. The suit now displayed a dark green tone, with the Black House crest strangely divided in half. The Black Raven was positioned on the right side of the upper part of the crest, leaving the lower part on the left side empty.
It seemed that the young man had reserved a space for the possible crest of the noble house from his maternal lineage, something Arcturus doubted existed. The boy's mother was probably a Muggle with whom Regulus had a brief encounter during one of his drunken nights. His grandson had a weakness for drink, especially when it involved good whiskey.
Although the dark green color still raised many questions in his mind, as he looked into his grandson's ruby eyes, Arcturus noticed a clear spark of amusement dancing in those deep ruby eyes. For some reason, a strange feeling of caution sprang up in his heart. He couldn't pinpoint where that feeling came from, but he was certain that something extraordinary was about to happen, and his great-grandson was somehow involved.
"Good morning. I hope you both had a good night's sleep." Despite the caution he felt, Arcturus didn't let it show on his face. He greeted the two with his calm, deep voice, briefly holding his gaze on his great-grandson's face. The boy was plotting something; of that, he was sure.
Perhaps sensing Arcturus' gaze upon him, Asterion returned the look and nodded, sitting next to Narcissa. His plan was just beginning, and he didn't want to expose anything prematurely. The memory of how he Apparated into the alley that day was still fresh in his mind, and today would be the day of his revenge. Yes, Asterion was someone who held grudges easily.
He longed to see the legendary Arcturus Black lose his usual composure, yearning for the shock on the old patriarch's face upon discovering his maternal lineage. Just the thought of the image almost made his lips curve into a smile, but thankfully he managed to control himself and distractedly spread butter on his toast.
Narcissa glanced at Asterion and then shifted her gaze to Arcturus. For some reason, both seemed to be plotting something or acting cautiously. The situation was extremely suspicious and unusual.
Sensing the tense atmosphere hanging in the air, Narcissa tried to change it by introducing a new topic into the room.
"Grandfather, I wanted to ask earlier, but where is Aunt Walburga's Animated Portrait? I haven't seen it anywhere since I arrived here."
Arcturus paused from reading the newspaper for a moment and responded coldly, "Thanks to Merlin, long deceased, her portrait is rotting away somewhere in the basement." His voice carried a hint of venom when mentioning his late daughter-in-law and cousin, Walburga, wife of his son, Orion Black.
Narcissa was not surprised by his words, nor by the contained animosity within them. She knew that Walburga and Arcturus had never been friends; in fact, they were practically enemies. As for the reason behind this animosity, it was mainly Walburga's extremist pure-blood ideology.
Not that Arcturus wasn't a worthy example of a pure-blood, but the old patriarch was more pragmatic and realistic. He didn't harbor hatred for Muggle-borns, nor did he desire mass genocide in the name of equally insane ideals of a megalomaniac like Voldemort.
"I think Asterion has the right to know his grandmother, after all, she was still Regulus's mother," said Narcissa cautiously, fearing to provoke Arcturus's wrath with her suggestion.
Arcturus looked at Narcissa with a helpless gaze and then at his grandson, who observed him with a curious expression in his ruby eyes.
" Kreacher," Arcturus uttered with his deep voice.
At that moment, the house-elf, named Kreacher, appeared next to the old patriarch, bowing constantly. "Kreacher heard your call, Lord Black!" The elf's voice was old and raspy.
"Go fetch Walburga's Animated Portrait from the basement," he ordered, still focused on reading his newspaper.
"Your orders are a decree, Lord Black! Kreacher will retrieve the portrait of the noble Lady Black!" The house-elf was more than happy to be tasked; he apparated from the dining hall at extreme speed.
About forty seconds later, Kreacher returned carrying a large Portrait made of black oak. Interestingly, the portrait depicted a woman wearing an elegant black aristocratic dress, with her hair styled in a sophisticated bun. It was Walburga Black.
"Arcturus, you old dead, pure-blooded scum! If I ever leave this portrait, you're dead! I'll tear you apart like a mangy animal. I'll cut your dick off, you filthy bastard—" The portrait moved as if it were alive. The first thing it did upon arriving in the hall was to curse the old patriarch in every possible way for long minutes without stopping once. Even Asterion was surprised by the amount of profanity uttered in less than a minute.
Arcturus didn't even bother to look up and kept reading, ignoring the sharp and shrill screams of the woman. He wondered if the portrait would feel the pain of being burned alive if he set it on fire. He kept that idea ready to test it at some point in the future.
While Walburga's portrait incessantly cursed Arcturus, the portrait of Walburga noticed other people in the dining hall, someone she knew especially well, after all, she raised her alongside her sister-in-law.
"Narcissa, look at you, you've become as beautiful and elegant a woman as one would expect from a true Black," Walburga spoke in a tone completely different from when she cursed Arcturus. Although her tone was stern and serious.
"It's been a while, Aunt," Narcissa greeted the woman who practically raised her. Even after death, Walburga still maintained the same tone; it seemed as if she hadn't even died, although she was merely a collection of memories.
She rose from her chair and stood behind Asterion, placing her hands on the boy's shoulders. "But, Aunt, I want to introduce you to someone, more precisely, your grandson, son of Regulus."
Walburga's body within the portrait came to a complete stop, her gaze falling upon the child whose shoulders Narcissa held. She looked into the boy's red eyes for a long time in silence, and when she finally spoke again, she shocked everyone in the hall:
"Hello, my lovely grandson, look at you, you look like an adorable prince."
Arcturus and Narcissa looked at the portrait in disbelief, wondering if they were hearing things, for it was impossible for Walburga Black to speak in such a kind and sweet tone. Truth be told, whether Arcturus or Narcissa, they felt a shiver run down their spines hearing the woman's sweet tone.
"Hello, Grandmother, I am Asterion Regulus Black, it's a pleasure to meet you." Asterion ignored the shocked looks from both and greeted his grandmother with much elegance and politeness.
"Judging by your manners, Narcissa has done a good job in instructing you, keep learning from her, she was my masterpiece, my dear grandson."
Walburga couldn't be happier at this moment, as she shouldn't, the legendary innate technique of the House of Black appeared in her lineage! Her soul, which is probably in hell, would be jumping for joy, along with all her ancestors.
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Author's Thoughts: Everyone's favorite portrait is back! This was an interesting chapter where we can see the interactions between the characters, Arcturus and Walburga, as well as the reason for his animosity.
The next chapter we go to Diagon Alley!
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Next Chapter: (Chapter 16 - Gringotts (2)), (Chapter 17 - Gringotts (3), (Chapter 18 - Gringotts (4)), (Chapter 19 - Gringotts (5)), (Chapter 20 - Unrest in England (1), (Chapter 21 - Unrest in England (2), (Chapter 22 - Unrest in England (3).