An Interference of Portraits

Portrait Etiquette

Walburga Black didn't talk to me for a few days after our initial conversation. She just watched me carefully from her dark corner every time I passed by her portrait.

And I ignored her.

On the third morning after we'd first talked she waylaid me on my way down to breakfast again. 'Phineas says that Sirius left you everything,' she said.

'Which Phineas?' I asked.

'Phineas Nigellus...'

'Yep.'

'Hmph. It should have gone to Bellatrix.'

'Bellatrix is dead.'

'I don't accept it,' Walburga said.

'She's definitely dead.'

'I meant that I don't accept that you've inherited the Ancient and Noble House of Black.'

'And what do you intend to do about it, seeing as you're also dead and just a bit of canvas and some dried up old oil paint and there's no one left of your line beyond Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy and her son?'

She hissed at the mention of Andromeda. Or maybe the bit about being dead. I wasn't sure. 'The Malfoys then...'

I smiled sweetly, 'you do know that Narcissa and Draco have been declared heroes of the war? Because they both saved my life on separate occasions and rose up against the oppression of Voldemort's ways.' I couldn't help being delighted at being the bearer of that news.

She harrumphed, muttered, 'blood traitors', and left the frame again.

It was a day later that she said to me, without any preamble, 'I understand both my sons helped you in their own ways. I want to know more,' she paused, watching me intently.

Kreacher appeared very rapidly again. 'Master Regulus is being most brave and noble in helping to defeat the very bad man,' he interjected.

'Yeah, he was brave, incredibly brave, and incredibly clever,' I added quietly.

'So, you discovered what happened to my boy?'

'Yeah. Regulus worked out that Tom Riddle made a Horcrux from splitting his soul and he tracked down where it was hidden. Retrieving the Horcrux to destroy it was what killed him. Riddle's Dark Magic, that is, and his insistence of messing around with the dead and creating Inferius.'

'And you know where he died?' her voice was quiet, filled with genuine grief.

'Yes, off the south-west coast of Ireland. A place called the Cliffs of Moher. And you do have my sincere condolences. As Kreacher said, he died nobly.'

'He should have been interred properly in the Black crypt at Highgate cemetery. I was unable to mourn for him.'

'I can arrange for some kind of memorial. For Sirius too, though Sirius would probably hate the thought of it.'

She watched me beadily. 'There are no bodies for either of my sons.'

'No. But that doesn't mean we can't formally remember either of them for their heroic deeds.'

'You consider that Sirius was heroic?' she asked blandly.

By this point, Kreacher had moved to between me and portrait, looking distinctly like he might want to take Walburga Black on in a boxing match. I would have put my money on Kreacher.

'Yep,' I said stiffly. 'Incredibly so.'

'I see.'

'Master Sirius is dying defending our Ministry and the heart of our society from the treacherous Death-Eaters,' said Kreacher proudly.