Chapter 16 - Gringotts (2)
"Have a little more cake, Asterion," Walburga inside the portrait spoke with a sweet and indulgent tone towards her grandson.
Seeing Asterion being pampered at every moment by Walburga, Narcissa just huffed quietly. Now, she truly believed that all parents had favorite children or grandchildren. Her stern aunt, who raised her children as if they were in the military, now worried about every little thing regarding her dear grandson. Even worrying about the heat of the coffee for fear of hurting Asterion's tongue... and that, honestly, was starting to make her angry.
The breakfast ended with Walburga urging Asterion to eat more, as he seemed too skinny, and she even blamed Arcturus for neglecting her precious grandson, calling him a dead old man and other insults.
The old patriarch furrowed his brow deeply, probably restraining himself from setting fire to the animated portrait, regardless of how satisfying it would be to watch the painting burn with the flames of hell.
Narcissa truly regretted saying anything earlier. If she had known this would happen, she would have stayed silent and never asked about her aunt Walburga's portrait again.
"Now that we're done, let's head to Diagon Alley," Arcturus said, rising from his chair.
"You're taking Asterion to Diagon Alley?" Walburga inside the portrait asked, furrowing her brow. "Don't you know how ignorant those people can be? What if they hurt my precious grandson?"
"Asterion is not weak, besides, Narcissa and I will be there," Arcturus replied coldly, not waiting for her response, and left the dining hall, tapping his cane on the floor, apparently venting on the poor tiles.
"Humph!" Walburga huffed as the man left and focused entirely on Asterion.
"My dear grandson, don't listen to anything those filthy Muggle-borns and half-breeds say. If possible, kill a few of them to clear the air a bit; they seem to smell like pigs in a sty."
Asterion pursed his lips and refused to respond, listening to the genuine concern of his beloved yet very racist and extremist deceased grandmother.
-
Outside the Black Manor, Arcturus touched the shoulders of Asterion and Narcissa. In an instant, the three vanished with a loud pop, similar to the backfiring of a car exhaust.
During the process, Asterion felt a weight on his chest, his vision darkened, and his eyes darted in all directions while his organs seemed to move on their own inside his body.
When Asterion felt the ground beneath his feet again, a familiar feeling of nausea and sickness made him feel unsteady, but he quickly recovered from these sensations and found himself standing in front of the entrance to a seemingly very dilapidated bar. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was a place in danger of collapsing at any moment.
The Leaky Cauldron.
Asterion presumed that all wizards had some fetish related to old things or were very reluctant to separate from the old world. He wouldn't stay in this place for even a minute, fearing he might catch the Black Plague from how old the place was.
"What do you think?" Arcturus asked, looking at his great-grandson.
"I think we should demolish the place and build something more hygienic and new," Asterion said, with a look of disgust as he glanced at the old wizarding pub. He knew the pub was the oldest in England, but since then, it seemed like the bar had been frozen in time.
"You don't know how to appreciate it, Asterion. This place is history itself, with its nearly four centuries of existence. How many talented wizards like our ancestors have passed through here and entered the wizarding world?" Arcturus shook his head at his great-grandson's response and then gently stroked his hair.
Asterion rolled his eyes and didn't hide the dislike he felt for the place. For someone who loved hygiene and cleanliness, this place was hell for him.
Arcturus gave up trying to reason with him. He walked over to the ancient door, corroded by time and many termites.
"Let's go, Asty." Taking his hand, Narcissa gently pulled him towards the entrance of the pub.
…
As the three members of the House of Black entered the place, the entire atmosphere fell silent. The sound of someone swallowing was particularly audible in this silent environment.
For the first time, Asterion truly felt what it meant to be a Black, a Noble House that had produced many Dark Lords, in many cases, reigns of tyranny, terror, and fear. Fear was palpable in the air, the atmosphere completely silent, some even afraid to look at the three people, fearing some misfortune might befall them.
Due to his innate technique, Asterion had a heightened sensitivity to negative magical energy, commonly generated from fear, anxiety, and terror that people emanated. He could feel the anxieties, fears, and even curiosity born from the horror stories they had heard from their dearest relatives.
When Arcturus tapped his cane on the floor and walked towards the back of the bar, some of the more cowardly patrons nearly jumped out of their seats, while those closer to the entrance of Diagon Alley simply lowered their heads as the three members of the House of Black passed by them.
Honestly, Asterion felt the whole situation was amusing, even overly exaggerated. It seemed like the entire British wizarding society had been influenced to fear them. If this was orchestrated by someone, Asterion had to applaud such genius, as it practically prevented any member of the House of Black from running for the position of British Minister for Magic.
Although ironically, the House of Black still remained the leader of the Pure-bloods in England, so regardless of any official position, they were still one of the most powerful families on the planet.
"So, what did you feel seeing the fear we caused in them?" Before opening the passage that led directly to Diagon Alley, Arcturus turned to look at Asterion and asked in his usual deep and cold voice.
Asterion pondered, recalling the faces of those men and women, remembering what he felt in that moment. He looked at the old Black patriarch and replied in a cold tone:
"I felt good."
Arcturus looked deeply at his great-grandson with his black eyes, slightly surprised by his response, and spoke coldly, "Then, remember that feeling, for it will be what you feel throughout your life, a life where everyone looks at you with fear and respect."
Narcissa remained silent, listening to the entire conversation between them. She couldn't help but recall the first time she felt that way. Her mother, Druella, had asked her the same question, so she remembered what she felt that year. 'They made me feel like a monster, where everyone looked at me and recoiled in fear,' Narcissa thought, looking at Asterion, who seemed completely normal. The two of them were fundamentally different.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Asterion. This is the beginning of your story in the wizarding world."
Unaware of what his niece was thinking, Arcturus spoke as he opened the stone passage. Stone by stone, everyone began to retreat, gradually revealing a place completely different from the pub they were in.
Diagon Alley.
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Author's Thoughts: We've arrived at Diagon Alley, but I won't describe it because I think everyone reading this fanfic knows what Diagon Alley is like. Let me know in the comments what you think!
IMPORTANT NOTE: My sister's wedding will be on the 27th of this month, I can get busy, but I will try to post during the week, wish me luck, because I will need it...
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Next Chapter: (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), (Chapter 23 - Escaping from Azkaban (1) (Chapter 24 - Escaping from Azkaban (2).