At the Black Mansion, Sirius and Regulus stepped out of the fireplace into the grand yet shadowed entrance hall. The place was a testament to the family's centuries-old legacy—tall ceilings adorned with intricate carvings, rich emerald and black tapestries embroidered with the Black family crest, and portraits of their ancestors that seemed to watch their every move with judging eyes. The air carried a faint metallic tang, and the subtle hum of dark magic lingered, a reminder of the house's history.
Orion stood waiting for them, hands clasped behind his back. "We have a family meeting to attend."
Sirius exchanged a wary glance with Regulus, who merely shrugged. Together, they followed Orion through a series of elaborately decorated hallways, their footsteps muffled by thick, dark green carpets. Ornate chandeliers cast flickering light, and the occasional movement in the shadows hinted at house-elves flitting about their tasks.
Finally, they entered the dining hall—a vast room dominated by a long ebony table, polished to a mirror finish, surrounded by high-backed chairs. The walls were lined with shelves of books and artifacts, each pulsating faintly with dormant power. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension as every chair was occupied by members of the illustrious Black family.
Cassiopeia Black sat at one end, her quill scratching furiously in a little black book. Rumor had it that this book held the secrets of the family—secrets traded like currency in their power games.
Beside her sat Dorea Potter (née Black), watching her cousin write with a bemused smile, occasionally whispering suggestions. Across the table, Marius Black, the infamous squib cast out by the family, leaned back in his chair, exuding the same cold, calculating aura as his magical relatives. Despite his disinheritance, he appeared every inch a Black and carried himself with the confidence of a shrewd businessman.
At the far end of the table, Walburga Black and her mother, Irma (née Crabbe), whispered to one another, their expressions sharp and conspiratorial. Pollux Black, Walburga's husband, sat beside his brothers Cygnus and Arcturus, the three locked in a heated debate about family politics. Arcturus looked ready to explode, only barely restrained by his wife, Melania (née Macmillan), whose calm demeanor stood in stark contrast to the chaos brewing around her—a badger among snakes indeed.
Further down the table, Lucretia Black sat with her niece, Andromeda. The pair appeared to be the only ones who carried an air of approachability. Andromeda's kind expression softened the room's oppressive atmosphere, though it didn't entirely mask her discomfort.
Bellatrix Black sat near her mother, Druella (née Rosier), her wild, untamed beauty contrasting sharply with Narcissa, who radiated the cold elegance of an untouchable princess. Druella, though clearly tired, maintained her poise, her piercing gaze scanning the room.
At the opposite end of the table, Alphard Black sipped his firewhisky, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. His adventurous nature was evident, but his eyes betrayed the unmistakable hint of madness that ran through the family's veins.
"Finally," Alphard drawled, setting down his glass with an exaggerated flourish. "I was about to start throwing curses out of sheer boredom. What kept you, Orion?"
Orion ignored him and gestured for Sirius and Regulus to sit.
"My darling Sirius," Alphard continued, his tone mocking but with a glimmer of affection. "What a pleasant surprise to see you finally gracing the family with your presence."
Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Walburga's sharp voice cut through the air. "What are you doing here, boy? You are not welcome back in this family."
The air in the Black dining room thickened as tension reached its boiling point.
"Well, he doesn't need your permission to be here, Walburga," Dorea said calmly, leaning back in her chair as though the chaos in the room amused her.
"Shut up, you blood traitor," Walburga sneered, her voice dripping with venom.
Dorea raised a single brow. "You really should save that term for people it might actually insult, dear sister-in-law."
"How dare you call my sister that!" Marius snapped, his chair screeching against the floor as he stood.
Irma turned on him with a disdainful curl of her lip. "And what would *you*, a squib, know about anything? Know your place, Marius. I don't even know why you're here."
Marius's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Dorea moved with the precision of a hawk. With a flick of her wand, Irma was sent crashing against the wall. "How dare you speak to my brother that way."
Walburga's face twisted into a snarl as she leapt to her feet, her wand drawn. "You'll regret that, Dorea."
Before Walburga could cast a single spell, a deafening *bang* echoed through the room. She crumpled to the floor, clutching her knee, blood seeping through her robes. Marius stood, cool as ice, a sleek black revolver in his hand. He twirled it lazily, his expression smug.
"I don't need magic to hurt you, Walburga," he said with a smirk, crossing his legs as though the scene in front of him was a mere inconvenience.
Pollux roared in fury, his wand slicing through the air as he fired a curse at Marius. But before the spell could connect, it dissipated against a shimmering shield conjured by Cassiopeia.
"Pollux," Cassiopeia said with her usual calm, "I never knew you were so eager to involve yourself in the squabbles of the younger generation. Shall I remind you of what happened the last time you overreached?" Her tone was soft, but her words carried the weight of an unspoken threat.
Pollux hesitated for a moment, but then Cygnus stood, his wand raised. "Enough of this nonsense!" he bellowed.
"Enough of *you*, more like," Alphard said with a laugh from the corner, his firewhisky sloshing dangerously in his glass. "Honestly, I'd pay to see all of you blow each other to bits. Best entertainment I've had in years."
"Shut up, Alphard!" Walburga snapped, still writhing on the floor, clutching her injured knee.
"And here I thought I'd finally see someone put you out of your misery," Alphard quipped, taking another sip.
The room exploded into chaos. Spells, daggers, and curses flew across the room in a blur of light and steel. Arcturus, barely containing his rage, lunged for Cygnus, but Melania yanked him back with surprising strength.
"Sit down, Arcturus," she hissed, her tone sharp but weary. "They're not worth the trouble."
Across the room, Sirius leaned toward Regulus, whispering as the two ducked behind the edge of the table. "So *this* is why we don't have family meetings."
Regulus snorted but froze as a dagger embedded itself inches from his shoulder. Sirius barely had time to laugh before another dagger, this time expertly aimed, sliced through his arm. He let out a cry of pain, clutching the wound as blood seeped through his fingers.
The sound was enough to cut through the chaos.
"ENOUGH!" Orion roared, his voice amplified by a pulse of magic that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house. A wave of oppressive energy radiated from him, and everyone in the room froze, their movements forcibly stilled by his sheer power.
The room fell silent except for Sirius's pained groans. Orion strode forward, his presence commanding as he looked at each family member in turn, his dark eyes blazing with fury. "Sit. Down."
One by one, they obeyed, lowering their wands, knives, and heads. Even Alphard straightened in his seat, his amusement replaced by wariness.
Orion turned to Sirius, his expression softening slightly. "Let me see."
Sirius, still clutching his arm, reluctantly moved his hand aside. Orion muttered a spell, and the wound closed instantly, leaving nothing but a faint scar.
"You lot," Orion said, addressing the table, his tone deadly. "This is why we're losing our influence. While you bicker like children, the world changes around us. If you can't learn to control yourselves, then you're more useless than I thought."
The room remained silent as Orion's words hung in the air. Cassiopeia closed her book with a soft snap, her eyes glinting with approval.
"Now," Orion said, his voice calm but unyielding, "let's behave like a family—or at least pretend to be one for a few hours."