𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐧 | 𝐭.𝐦.𝐫

𝟏𝟑

Sunlight filtered through the windows into the dining hall, accenting the gold filigree on the paintings adorning the walls and the long table's legs peeking from underneath the cloth. The gleam of silverware only added to the sight. One might think it a picturesque scene from a painting. Only the subjects thought otherwise.

The clinking of silverware echoed all over the dining hall. Other than that, silence reigned over the room and its occupants. Arcturus ruminated on it over his venison, eyes switching from looking at Aster to Sirius and then back to Aster. He had started to realise he was raising more than one twelve-year-old.

It went on for the rest of the day. He went on to supervise Aster with her experiments, while Sirius when on to do what Sirius does. Then came lunch, which carried over the same atmosphere as breakfast.

Arcturus slunk back into his office to catch up on his correspondence, thinking there'd be no progress today as well between those two, knowing of both their pride.

He couldn't help but laugh to himself over his papers. It had been a long time since he saw such a childish quarrel waged over a war of silence. Most of all, he had been relieved to see Aster act her age, even through a silent tantrum.

Halfway through the afternoon, he finally took a break and stood up to stretch, groaning as his joints popped into their places. Taking a swig of his customised health maintenance potion brewed personally by Aster herself from his flask, he almost spat it all over his window after the scene it showed him.

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Using whatever smarts he had left, Sirius thought to approach Aster after lunch. People were always more relaxed during that time. It just so happened he came across her sitting at a little table by the lakeside under a lace umbrella, a large black tome propped open on a bookrest. Even as she closed it when he came closer, he still could not recognise it, though now it felt familiar. Only when he can finally read the cover did he stop in his tracks, literally, before taking long, fast strides to take a closer look.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked, waving the white flag first over their silent war.

Aster had to crane her neck to look up at him, suddenly having the urge to kick the back of his knees. "Well, what do you think it is?"

Sirius lifted a finger to point right at the book. "That right there is the Black Grimoire, a compilation of every family member's greatest works and inventions that span back centuries, 'course the personal ones stay having the good stuff, but everyone loves one-upping each other so they pull out all the stops with whatever they put in," He found himself rambling.

He remembered now. How could he forget when Walburga never stopped nagging about him inheriting it. The book was supposed to be passed on to him for his coming-of-age. Well, he wasn't exactly around for it to fall into his hands. What he was more curious about was how it got onto Aster's hands.

Grimoires symbolised the magical strength of an individual. Centuries back when the magical were being hunted, not everyone could be trusted to be shown such abilities. So everything one knew, every discovery, every experience was written down for memoriam to pass on to their line. Of course, after their world went into hiding there wasn't as much need to be so guarded, but for a family as old and proud as theirs, the Black Grimoire was much more than just a talk piece during gatherings.

Any family worth their magic would give up their sons and daughters to marry into the House of Black for a chance to even glimpse its cover.

They were a notorious house known to hold great magical prowess and after being famously known to be a Slytherin household, one of ambition. Merlin knows what arcane arts they've unlocked. The common wizard can only fathom its contents.