Old Fic
Posting for omniocular's March "Something Old" challenge
Title: Marius, a Squib
Rating: PG-13 (to be safe)
Word Count: approx. 1300
Summary: The tattered tapestry depicting the descent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has burn marks in every generation; they represent the disowned members of the family.
Author Notes: Last year, the release of the Black Family Tree inspired me to fill in the blanks behind the burn marks. Upon re-reading Chapter 6 of OotP, I instantly knew what had to happen to Marius the Squib.
Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, London, 1928
Eleven-year-old Marius Black was worried. Terrified, to be quite honest. The end of July was fast approaching, and he had still not received a letter from Hogwarts. No matter how much he tried to deny it to himself, he couldn’t help being aware that his younger sister Dorea had done more accidental magic than he had. Of course, since he hadn’t done any that he knew of, that wouldn’t be too hard.
On this day, he and his sister had been left at the Black ancestral home (currently owned by his Uncle Sirius) while their parents and older siblings shopped in Diagon Alley. Looking into the mirror on the wall outside the drawing room door, he tried to straighten his robes and smooth down his hair while Dorea made faces at the house elf heads mounted along the stairs behind him.
“Come in,” said a creaky voice from behind the door. “Don’t stand there dawdling about.”
Marius and Dorea exchanged apprehensive looks as they entered the room and took their places at the tea-table. It was never a good idea to cross Great-Aunt Elladora even when she was in a good mood. Her sharp tongue and short temper had become legendary in the family. Today, she sounded upset enough without the additional provocation of dropped biscuits and spilled tea.
Conversation for the next three-quarters of an hour was limited to Aunt Elladora’s ramblings about recent Daily Prophet articles, with the occasional “Yes, ma’am” from the children. Marius was simply hoping to survive the afternoon with minimal notice, but unfortunately, something triggered Auntie’s memory. She glared at him over her glasses and asked the question he hadn’t wanted to hear. “Boy, your Uncle Arcturus told me that your cousin Cedrella got her Hogwarts letter two weeks ago. You’re the same age, aren’t you? Where is yours?”
Marius looked down at his hands in his lap and murmured, “I haven’t got one, ma’am.”
“What was that? I know you take after your mother’s family, but I never thought you had sawdust for brains like the rest of the Bulstrodes. Speak up, boy!”
He looked her in the eye. “I haven’t got a letter.” There, he’d said it. His insides twisted as his brain supplied the word that he had been studiously avoiding, “Squib.”
“WHAT?” Aunt Elladora’s outburst caused an elderly house elf to drop the tea-tray she had been discreetly clearing away. Elladora quickly fired sparks at Tilly with her wand as the elf babbled a series of apologies and started to gather up the broken cups.
She had begun to aim a second spell when she apparently had another idea. “You, elf, go fetch my brother’s wand!” Auntie pointed her wand first at Marius and then at Dorea. “Boy, you stay. Girl, get out!” Dorea fled without a second glance, leaving Marius with a sinking feeling in his stomach and sweaty palms.
Tilly soon returned with a wooden box, which she held out for her mistress. Elladora took the wand out of its velvet nest and turned it over in her hands. “Boy, this belonged to your grandfather. If he were still alive, that idiot Armando Dippet would’ve sent your letter by now.” With narrowed eyes, she pressed the wand into Marius’s hand. “Do a spell and prove that you’re a Black.”
Marius swallowed and tried to stay calm. Concentrating with all his might, he shouted, “Lumos!”
Nothing happened.
When he looked at Aunt Elladora again, she was regarding him with a calculating expression. “Hmm… Perhaps you need more motivation.” She gestured with her wand at the house elf. “Tilly, come here!” Turning back to Marius, she said, “I’m going to give you one more try. I had hoped to get a few months more use out of this elf, but maybe she can serve a better purpose.” Elladora aimed at the obediently kneeling elf. “Stop me before I count to ten. The incantation is ‘Expelliarmus.’ Go.”
Marius started shaking as the count began. She couldn’t possibly mean what he thought, could she? Panicked, he held the wand with both hands and shouted “Expelliarmus” over and over again at the top of his voice. When the count reached nine without any results, he closed his eyes, not wanting to see what happened next.
“Ten.” Auntie’s voice was firm. “Diffindo.”
Marius opened his eyes when he heard a soft thunk. Tilly’s severed body lay sprawled on the rug in a pool of blood. When Aunt Elladora started laughing in a way that made him think of the hags who frequented Knockturn Alley, he tossed Grandfather’s wand away and ran for the door.
He sprinted up the stairs and into a bedroom where he quickly fastened all the locks on the door. Ill health had limited Elladora’s mobility in recent years, but he didn’t want to risk facing her again. Jumping onto one of the beds, he buried his head in the pillow and didn’t try to stifle any sobs.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard a voice behind him. “Stop sniveling, boy. I loathe self-pity; there is always someone who is worse off than you.”
Marius’s first reaction was panic; had someone found his hiding place? After a moment of reflection, he recognized the speaker’s voice. With one last sniff, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his robes and slid off the bed. Looking up at the previously empty frame on the wall, he said, “Hello, Grandfather.”
Phineas Nigellus Black leaned against the frame of his portrait while he watched his grandson. “I could ask what prompted this excessive display of emotion, but I did witness most of the performance in the drawing room.”
Marius dropped his head and stared glumly at his shoes. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“You should be. You were rather careless with my wand.” Marius thought that there might be a hint of amusement in the words, but couldn’t be sure. “Not to mention ineffectual. But then I’ve known since you were born that you were a Squib.” Marius raised his head with a jerk to stare at the painting in disbelief. “Oh, don’t be surprised, boy. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I had access to the record book of magical births. I just never bothered to enlighten anyone else in the family. The scandal, you know.”
Marius forced himself to bottle up the tears that threatened to start flowing again. For a moment, Grandfather had almost seemed sympathetic to his plight, but that was too good to be true, of course. “I’m sorry, sir.” Without much thought, he desperately added, “What happens now?”
The following silence seemed to last forever as Grandfather studied his painted hands. Finally, he answered, “As I see it, you have two options. You can be the object of my sister Elladora’s tender mercies, or you can take matters into your own hands.” Marius froze; what did that mean? “If you go to Number Fourteen Gracechurch Street near Cheapside, you will find the home of my disowned but depressingly idealistic son Phineas. Just be aware that Elladora has assigned the house elves to guard the ground floor doors.” Grandfather looked directly into Marius’s eyes and continued, “I will naturally deny that I’ve told you this.”
Marius was stunned. “But why are you helping me?”
Phineas Nigellus put his hands on the bottom edge of his frame and leaned forward as if he were trying to put his nose through the canvas. “Because you’re my grandson and a Black. Because if you can pull this off, you’ll prove that you don’t have to go to Hogwarts to be resourceful like a Slytherin.” Then he turned and walked out of sight behind his frame.
“Thank you, Grandfather,” whispered Marius. After a glance out the window, he liberated the spare sheets from the wardrobe in the corner of the room and began tying them together. The ground was a long way away, but freedom beckoned.
*****
Thanks to Ara Kane for beta-reading. This is an exerpt from a longer fic which also tells about the other Black Family refugees Phineas Jr. (gen) and Isla (het) and can be found at Sugar Quill or Fiction Alley
Title: Marius, a Squib
Rating: PG-13 (to be safe)
Word Count: approx. 1300
Summary: The tattered tapestry depicting the descent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black has burn marks in every generation; they represent the disowned members of the family.
Author Notes: Last year, the release of the Black Family Tree inspired me to fill in the blanks behind the burn marks. Upon re-reading Chapter 6 of OotP, I instantly knew what had to happen to Marius the Squib.
Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, London, 1928
Eleven-year-old Marius Black was worried. Terrified, to be quite honest. The end of July was fast approaching, and he had still not received a letter from Hogwarts. No matter how much he tried to deny it to himself, he couldn’t help being aware that his younger sister Dorea had done more accidental magic than he had. Of course, since he hadn’t done any that he knew of, that wouldn’t be too hard.
On this day, he and his sister had been left at the Black ancestral home (currently owned by his Uncle Sirius) while their parents and older siblings shopped in Diagon Alley. Looking into the mirror on the wall outside the drawing room door, he tried to straighten his robes and smooth down his hair while Dorea made faces at the house elf heads mounted along the stairs behind him.
“Come in,” said a creaky voice from behind the door. “Don’t stand there dawdling about.”
Marius and Dorea exchanged apprehensive looks as they entered the room and took their places at the tea-table. It was never a good idea to cross Great-Aunt Elladora even when she was in a good mood. Her sharp tongue and short temper had become legendary in the family. Today, she sounded upset enough without the additional provocation of dropped biscuits and spilled tea.
Conversation for the next three-quarters of an hour was limited to Aunt Elladora’s ramblings about recent Daily Prophet articles, with the occasional “Yes, ma’am” from the children. Marius was simply hoping to survive the afternoon with minimal notice, but unfortunately, something triggered Auntie’s memory. She glared at him over her glasses and asked the question he hadn’t wanted to hear. “Boy, your Uncle Arcturus told me that your cousin Cedrella got her Hogwarts letter two weeks ago. You’re the same age, aren’t you? Where is yours?”
Marius looked down at his hands in his lap and murmured, “I haven’t got one, ma’am.”
“What was that? I know you take after your mother’s family, but I never thought you had sawdust for brains like the rest of the Bulstrodes. Speak up, boy!”
He looked her in the eye. “I haven’t got a letter.” There, he’d said it. His insides twisted as his brain supplied the word that he had been studiously avoiding, “Squib.”
“WHAT?” Aunt Elladora’s outburst caused an elderly house elf to drop the tea-tray she had been discreetly clearing away. Elladora quickly fired sparks at Tilly with her wand as the elf babbled a series of apologies and started to gather up the broken cups.
She had begun to aim a second spell when she apparently had another idea. “You, elf, go fetch my brother’s wand!” Auntie pointed her wand first at Marius and then at Dorea. “Boy, you stay. Girl, get out!” Dorea fled without a second glance, leaving Marius with a sinking feeling in his stomach and sweaty palms.
Tilly soon returned with a wooden box, which she held out for her mistress. Elladora took the wand out of its velvet nest and turned it over in her hands. “Boy, this belonged to your grandfather. If he were still alive, that idiot Armando Dippet would’ve sent your letter by now.” With narrowed eyes, she pressed the wand into Marius’s hand. “Do a spell and prove that you’re a Black.”
Marius swallowed and tried to stay calm. Concentrating with all his might, he shouted, “Lumos!”
Nothing happened.
When he looked at Aunt Elladora again, she was regarding him with a calculating expression. “Hmm… Perhaps you need more motivation.” She gestured with her wand at the house elf. “Tilly, come here!” Turning back to Marius, she said, “I’m going to give you one more try. I had hoped to get a few months more use out of this elf, but maybe she can serve a better purpose.” Elladora aimed at the obediently kneeling elf. “Stop me before I count to ten. The incantation is ‘Expelliarmus.’ Go.”
Marius started shaking as the count began. She couldn’t possibly mean what he thought, could she? Panicked, he held the wand with both hands and shouted “Expelliarmus” over and over again at the top of his voice. When the count reached nine without any results, he closed his eyes, not wanting to see what happened next.
“Ten.” Auntie’s voice was firm. “Diffindo.”
Marius opened his eyes when he heard a soft thunk. Tilly’s severed body lay sprawled on the rug in a pool of blood. When Aunt Elladora started laughing in a way that made him think of the hags who frequented Knockturn Alley, he tossed Grandfather’s wand away and ran for the door.
He sprinted up the stairs and into a bedroom where he quickly fastened all the locks on the door. Ill health had limited Elladora’s mobility in recent years, but he didn’t want to risk facing her again. Jumping onto one of the beds, he buried his head in the pillow and didn’t try to stifle any sobs.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard a voice behind him. “Stop sniveling, boy. I loathe self-pity; there is always someone who is worse off than you.”
Marius’s first reaction was panic; had someone found his hiding place? After a moment of reflection, he recognized the speaker’s voice. With one last sniff, he wiped his face with the sleeve of his robes and slid off the bed. Looking up at the previously empty frame on the wall, he said, “Hello, Grandfather.”
Phineas Nigellus Black leaned against the frame of his portrait while he watched his grandson. “I could ask what prompted this excessive display of emotion, but I did witness most of the performance in the drawing room.”
Marius dropped his head and stared glumly at his shoes. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“You should be. You were rather careless with my wand.” Marius thought that there might be a hint of amusement in the words, but couldn’t be sure. “Not to mention ineffectual. But then I’ve known since you were born that you were a Squib.” Marius raised his head with a jerk to stare at the painting in disbelief. “Oh, don’t be surprised, boy. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I had access to the record book of magical births. I just never bothered to enlighten anyone else in the family. The scandal, you know.”
Marius forced himself to bottle up the tears that threatened to start flowing again. For a moment, Grandfather had almost seemed sympathetic to his plight, but that was too good to be true, of course. “I’m sorry, sir.” Without much thought, he desperately added, “What happens now?”
The following silence seemed to last forever as Grandfather studied his painted hands. Finally, he answered, “As I see it, you have two options. You can be the object of my sister Elladora’s tender mercies, or you can take matters into your own hands.” Marius froze; what did that mean? “If you go to Number Fourteen Gracechurch Street near Cheapside, you will find the home of my disowned but depressingly idealistic son Phineas. Just be aware that Elladora has assigned the house elves to guard the ground floor doors.” Grandfather looked directly into Marius’s eyes and continued, “I will naturally deny that I’ve told you this.”
Marius was stunned. “But why are you helping me?”
Phineas Nigellus put his hands on the bottom edge of his frame and leaned forward as if he were trying to put his nose through the canvas. “Because you’re my grandson and a Black. Because if you can pull this off, you’ll prove that you don’t have to go to Hogwarts to be resourceful like a Slytherin.” Then he turned and walked out of sight behind his frame.
“Thank you, Grandfather,” whispered Marius. After a glance out the window, he liberated the spare sheets from the wardrobe in the corner of the room and began tying them together. The ground was a long way away, but freedom beckoned.
*****
Thanks to Ara Kane for beta-reading. This is an exerpt from a longer fic which also tells about the other Black Family refugees Phineas Jr. (gen) and Isla (het) and can be found at Sugar Quill or Fiction Alley