Well?…

Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black of the most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Now, off with you! 🔞(18+)

[phineasnigellusblack]

Attention:

I have been advised that my presence within the student body has been greatly missed as of recent.

As Headmaster of this school, I of course, would not want any under my care to feel neglected of my fine attention.

As such, I am leaving my office door on latch and shall leave it to those so inclined to seek my attention as and when required. (Ensuring that such fraternisation falls outside of school hours of course, and should not disturb my concentration as I am a very busy man).

I shall likely be busy when called upon, as I know it will be frequent and non-ceasing, however, I may spare two minutes per query which I believe to be most sufficient.

- Phineas Nigellus Black, Headmaster

[phineasnigellusblack]

Okay, we wanna know: what did you get for your birthday?

laid

The usual tat from those wishing to better their graces in my books of course. Pocket watches, quills, books. You catch my meaning. The children have, as usual, provided various cards of well wishing. Waste of time. And Belvina, most graciously offering the last of her sugar quills.

I admit Ursula knows my liking and has yet to dissapoint. In fact, I might even congratulate her on outdoing herself. Might. A pair of silver cuff links with our family’s crest adorned alongside a fine case of cigars stand out.

She has also managed to obtain a particularly curious artefact, which, for legalities sake, we shall simply refer to as a charming ‘silver snuffbox.’

[phineasnigellusblack]

Are you going to the south of France this summer? To your holiday estate? Why not invite that charming brother-in-law of yours? LOL (honestly, whoever created that bastard is a genius, he is hilaaaaarious!!!)

Indeed. When my mother requests our presence, we are duty bound to adhere. Due to Ursula’s condition last summer, it appears our absence has been felt and our journey this year unavoidable.

As to your suggestion, I can only surmise you have yet the misfortune of meeting the man. I should consider yourself lucky.

Now, is that all?

[phineasnigellusblack]

What exactly does a headmaster do to celebrate his birthday? Us students are quite curious - sir.

I fail to see what relevance the way in which I conduct myself holds against students’, such as yourselves, studies.

Now, unless you are the insolent child responsible for the niffler that keeps finding its way into my office. I suggest you return to your studies.

Immediately.

[ursulaflintblack]

Most happy wishes for your birthday, dear!

@phineasnigellusblack

[phineasnigellusblack]

“Thank you, my dear.”

“You know I was wonder-“

*sighs*

“Yes? Belvina? Ah… a gift. You wrapped it yourself, I presume? Mm, I had thought as much…. Very well, being it here.”

[phineasnigellusblack]

Since your birthday is approaching: What do you do on that VERY special day? Breakfast in bed? Birthday cake? Presents? A posh dinner with your wife? And are your mother and sister (Elladora of course) visiting? What about your wife‘s side of the family? Y‘know, that charming brother- in-law of yours?

Oh, and am I invited??? Plzzzzzzzz!

As you would be well aware if you were of our station, birthdays are no more than social obligation. A gathering will be thrown yes, as is the expectation. Fortunately, that is not until evening.

Largely, I spend such days as I please. Should I have my way, that entails quiet solitude with minimal distributions. As it is, that is often a luxury even out of one such as my reach. Otherwise, the day will pass like any other. I wake. Perhaps a little later than usual. I breakfast. Perhaps a little more than usual. Only I also gain the monotonous task of reading each and every well wish that flies through the window. Receive numerous gifts, of course. Oblige my wife and children in entertaining their presence with a walk. And then retire to my study until dinner. A large affair, Ursula is often very attentive in ensuring my favourite meals are prepared.

This year, unfortunately, my dear extended family have taken it upon themselves to reassure us they shall be present. I should probably inform Ursula… Specifically, my brother-in-law and his family, as well as my sister. My mother cannot, and should not, be expected to make such a journey these days. But reminds us we visit her estate in the south of France this summer…

All in all, it is a rather tedious day.

… and … once the children are asleep, my wife and I will entertain a fine bottle of wine by the fireplace.

…

Hm.

[orsonflint]

Phineas, dear brother-in-law,

It truely has been a long time since our last correspondence and how terribly unfortunate that my last letter had somehow missed you since I haven’t heard back from you.

Anyways, it contained my gratification and my brotherly acclaim on your wise and expected decision on the regulations, namely the ban, on Quidditch at Hogwarts. Though my daughter Agatha has thankfully recovered from her injuries and concussion received during the try-outs (I’m still not over the fact how the matron could have released her so recklessly out of the hospital wing after only one hour!), her mother is still so very worried about the girl. As much as I despise those female emotional antics and hysteria, I have to agree with the woman for once. But is a Quidditch ban really enough to keep young purebloods, especially girls, safe? Hear me out. I suggest you might ban flying altogether. Take the flying lessons off the timetable. You must understand it is vital that Agatha returns in one piece (or at least with a pretty face) once the term is over, since she will turn 15 this summer and I have intentions to agree on an engagement before school starts again. I’m certain you as a father of a daughter yourself understand. I can imagine you are looking for possible suitors for Belvina already. One cannot arrange those things too early, right? Unfortunately, I haven’t found a suitable candidate for Agatha yet. So I’m wondering if you might do me a negligible favor concerning a possible agreement with your associate and friend Gaunt. One of his sons is just what we are looking for our dear girl. Just imagine having a Gaunt in the family! And Agatha would be an attractive adornement at any pureblood‘s side, given her looks, dowry and the fact she is practically a Black.

I might come over to London next month for some business, so I was thinking about a dinner invitation for your friend Gaunt? I would daresay Grimmauld Place would be the most suitable place and given the eventuality you couldn’t make it with your tight schedule, I am most helpful and tell you that your presence wouldn’t be necessarily obligate.

I doubt Ursula would mind taking care of the preparations while I entertain. That is what a woman is there for, am I wrong? Well, among other things, but I don’t need to remind you of that! I hope your sons are thriving.

Family matters most, after all, isn’t that true, brother-in-law? Our kin has to be a united front at all times, especially nowadays. And, at no cost, we must let those of lesser blood get the better of us.

Ah, but I digress!

I’m looking forward to receiving your response.

Yours sincerest

Orson Flint

@phineasnigellusblack

[phineasnigellusblack]

Flint,

We are not entertaining visitors.

Relation or otherwise.

My wife is most busy as is, and it would not do to add to her already heavy load. Need I remind you her recovery since our last born is ongoing.

I shall inform her to expect your well wishes via owl within the week. And we wish you the best of luck with your arranged union. I am sure the Gaunt’s shall find the Flint estate most, quaint.

P.N.B

[ursulaflintblack]

Ursula had thought that the message behind her words couldn’t have had been clearer. One had to be daft to not get the hidden accusation and warning. Still, Phineas didn’t seem to care and instead rose an eyebrow at Belvina, who had crossed her arms with a decided pout. He was about to say something but somehow caught his wife’s eye before any snarky comment could have left his mouth. A wise decision. Ursula gave him a poignant look. That sort of look he seemed to understand very well after all. Oh, she had caught him off guard, that much was clear. And of course her husband tried to pull his head out of the sling. As always.

“…yes, of course.“

The word ’guilt’ was written all over his face. Ursula closed her eyes for a second. She wasn´t surprised in the slightest that her suspicions had been true. She usually was right with those things.

“Yes, very pleasing, Belvina.“

If he had only known how ridiculous he sounded.

Phineas then seemed to remember he had a son as well; Arcturus was still in the room, even though the poor boy tried his best to blend in with the furniture. With a simple snap of his fingers, Phineas ordered his son to approach him. Treating him like a house elf by doing so. Only then to correct the boy´s tie which was in no need of any correction. Ursula took a slow breath in, trying to calm herself down. Phineas was extraordinary challenging today. And her patience was exceptionally thin after everything that had occurred so far.

“Indeed, he plays tolerably well.“

Tolerably??? Had she heard him correctly? Phineas had absolutely no reservations in telling her plainly what he thought was the right use of Arcturus‘s time. Right in front of the boy! Of course music was NOT what Phineas had in mind for a time well-spent. Ursula’s eyes narrowed. How could he? Was he even aware of what he was saying? A passable performance? The boy had played Chopin so well, for heaven’s sake!

It always pained her deeply how ignorant Phineas could be as a father. Shouldn’t a father be one to look up to? To encourage? To praise instead of criticise all the time? Ursula’s glare at her husband intensified. At least, it seemed to make him uneasy. Good. But whenever he got uneasy, he had to take it out on someone and right now that someone was his daughter. Reminding her that a Black mustn’t pout so much. Now it was Ursula’s turn to raise an eyebrow because of Belvina’s sassy retort to that. Half amused. She had to correct the girl’s attitude eventually, but for now she let her get away with it because it made Phineas clearly flustered and uncomfortable.

“Oh for heaven’s sake!“

He was staring at his wife and daughter with utter confusion now. Ursula was convinced he was very close now to realize his paternal missteps, being forced to admit it out of his own accord. Oh, she would never openly question or accuse him, especially not in front of the children. Ursula knew her place very well. No, she certainly had developed her own tactics to get to the bottom of things. To make her husband confess, if only indirectly.

To her satisfaction, concern had started to settle on his face. The corner of her mouth twitched. She got him. She knew it. Suddenly he was unable to look her in the eye. Was his stance getting slightly unsteady? Was there a hint of sweat glistening on his forehead? Was he about to falter? Surrender? He definitely tried to find help or comfort in the neckline of her dress right now. And Ursula knew how to play. Phineas knew that as well. Even though he would never in a million years admit it. Instead, he availed himself of his favourite strategy: deflection. Of course the target had to be poor Arcturus.

“Really, if the boy intends to be talented he must not learn to cower every time someone speaks honestly.“

The silence between them was palpable. Tense. Everybody stood still. Until somewhere downstairs a servant dropped silverware with a crash. And then the bell. It´s ring echoing across the house. The front door being opened by one of the house elves. Footsteps and muffled voices in the hallway. Their guests had arrived. The Burkes.

Both Phineas’s and Ursula’s demeanor changed in a second. They were no longer in a private family setting, but on a social stage. They both knew that. And they both knew how to play their parts perfectly well. Now was not the time for marital or parental quarrels anymore. At least not openly. One last glare at her husband to make the point very clear that the matter was in fact not dealt with but postponed and Ursula turned away, grasping Belvina’s hand again and putting a grip on Arcturus’s shoulder to take the mortified boy and the still pouting girl with her to the side of the room. To the the background of the stage. Showing she knew her and the children’s place. With a little smile towards her daughter, she whispered calmly that now was the time the two of them had to behave like true ladies. Then, she decidedly placed a hand in between the shoulder blades of her son, encouraging him to stand taller and mind his posture. The boy obeyed silently.

Ursula watched her husband move a few steps forward into the room. Straighten up. Pull at the lapels of his dresscoat. Clear his throat. Wipe over his goatee. Adjust his cufflings once again. Cross his hands behind his back. Raise his chin ever so slightly. A severe look of superiority in his storm grey eyes. Radiating every bit the aura of the Black family patriarch. But there was something else behind all of that; Ursula couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, as the salon door opened to reveal Scrope leading the guests inside. With his croaky voice he announced:

“Mr. Caractacus Burke, Mrs. Emmeline Burke, and young Mr. Herbert Burke.“

Ursula could feel Belvina’s grip on her hand tighten upon the arrival of the three figures. For the young girl, it was the first time being present when her parents were entertaining so it had to be exciting and also slightly frightening for her.

Caractacus Burke came in first. Ursula knew he was a few years older than Phineas. Tall and lanky, with a hook nose and a pointed chin hidden under a trimmed goatee that made his face quite prominent. His red hair, a testimony of his Irish ancestry, was sleeked back and slightly greasy. The most striking feature was his overly exaggerated wide-teethed smile, more concerning than charismatic. Ursula had only met the man once or twice on some social event. He was not the sort of man one would want to be around too long. Especially not as a woman.

Behind him trailed his wife, Emmeline. Demurely, eyes cast down. Significantly younger than her husband, but that was hardly uncommon among their kind. If Ursula had had to describe her with one word, it would have been inconspicuous. All of her was painfully ordinary. Her mouse-brown hair, her slim figure, her vacuous facial features. And what in Salazar’s name was the woman wearing? That dress hadn’t even been fashionable 10 years ago. Beside all her visual shortcomings, which Emmeling didn’t seem to take any care of, the woman was tolerable company, though. Easy to entertain and converse with. Mostly because she didn’t have an opinion of her own. Far more pleasant to deal with than some of the other pureblood ladies constantly trying to overtrump any female in their company. From what Ursula could also remember, Emmeline had a very dry sense of humor which could at least be amusing during the evening.

And then there was Herbert Burke. The spitting image of his father, except for his blonde hair. The boy had to be 8 now? 9? A few years older than Arcturus but still too young to attend Hogwarts. He was pale with watery blue eyes which seemed to have the habit of blinking in an awkward fashion ever so often. His posture was even worse than Arcturus’s. Herbert looked like he didn’t know what to do with his lanky body, moving like a bull in a china shop. In Ursula’s eyes, the boy was definitely strange.

To her great surprise, the Burkes seemed to had only brought their eldest son with them, not their youngest daughter Cynthia. Their fourteen year- old daughter Veronica was at Hogwarts of course, but Ursula found it very odd indeed that they left the remaining daughter at home while both Arcturus and Belvina were present at this gathering. It had specifically been demanded by Phineas as she remembered. And seven year-old Cynthia was not a toddler like Cygnus. Ursula narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. That was… interesting. Perhaps the girl had fallen ill? Or had misbehaved? There had to be a reason. Right?

“Black! What a pleasure to be invited to the halls of the ancestral home of one of Britain’s most important wizarding families!“

Caractacus Burke’s overly smooth voice cut through the room. Ursula came to the silent conclusion that the appearance of the man had definitely changed since the last time she had met him. And not for the best. He seemed to be noticeably more overconfident and brazen. Almost slimy. Not to mention he had spoken first being a guest in a foreign house.

“Burke!“ Her husband replied with a nod of his head, while striking forward gallantly, spreading his arms in a gesture of welcome, to then shake his guests hand .

“Welcome, welcome!“

Ursula noticed Phineas’s behaviour was almost theatrically polite and obliging. Not sincere at all and very well put on. She was sure she was the only one to notice, though, for her husband was quite good on putting on the act.

Phineas’s attention then moved, though only briefly, to Mrs. Burke, bowing and placing a perfect kiss on her gloved hand. He didn’t really look at her in doing so. Emmeline quickly took back her hand, lowering her eyes again and then pulled at her son’s arm who was standing next to her.

Phineas eyed the boy up and down as if he was examining him for some unknown purpose, before exclaiming a tad too cheerfully:

“Ah, and that young man must be Herbert then?“ The boy started to nod frantically before then making an overelaborated scrape accompanied by introducing himself with a high-pitched voice:

“Herbert Burke, son of Caractacus Burke, son of Archibald Burke, often referred to as Herbie by his peers, often referred to as Bertie by his sisters, good Sir. I shall wish you a good evening!“

Ursula blinked. Then blinked a second time.

Merlin’s beard, was the boy alright? Phineas seemed to be taken aback as well by that awkwardly antique display that would have better suited a medieval knight than a child of not yet 10 years. Though Ursula doubted very much any knight had ever behaved like that.

“Ah, yes, ahem, well!“

Phineas had found his voice again. Clearly confused, her husband turned towards his family gesturing for them to come closer. Ursula gently pushed Arcturus and Belvina forward.

“I’m quite certain you remember my wife Ursula?“

Ursula walked over in pure grace, elegantly stretching out her gloved hand towards Burke. Immediately his piercing eyes were on her. And not only her face, as propriety conducted. The man’s eyes were roaming openly over her body to be then captivated by her décolleté. Ursula could feel disdain and disgust arise in her. He was staring at her lasciviously as he took her hand, holding it a tiny bit too long for the obligatory hand kiss. If Phineas had noticed anything, he didn’t seem to feel the need to intervene. He probably wouldn’t have done so even if he had noticed the shameful behaviour. He had made it too clear how very important his guest was tonight. Next to Burke, Emmeline glanced at her husband from the corner of her eye before her eyes met Ursula’s. Emmeline looked her up and down as well, but her expression was a mixture of admiration and melancholy and she quickly averted her gaze again, staring at the floor. A flash of sympathy for the other woman overcame Ursula. Telling by her reaction, Emmeline was very used to her husband ogling other women like that. On the other hand, Emmeline didn’t seem to make any affords to make him look at her like that, given her dull hair and terrible choice of dress. Or she simply didn’t know better. Merlin, that dress was truely ghastly.

Turning away from Caractacus with a candid smile that hid her disgust, and a “Mr. Burke“, Ursula gratefully took a step aside to greet Emmeline. The two women exchanged polite kisses on each others cheeks.

Then Ursula was standing in front of Herbert. She eyed him critically while he reciprocated that ridiculous scrape for her.

“Yes, that is my son and heir, Herbert.“ Burke stated with a proud, meaningful voice. Said boy was now grinning idiotically. Ursula raised her eyebrow ever so slightly.

Phineas cleared his throat and decided it was now time to introduce his own offspring.

“This is my charming daughter Belvina.“ He paused.“And Arcturus. My two youngest children.“

Ursula, still trying to figure out what was so terribly alarming about the whole situation, listened up. His two youngest children? She had to keep herself from scoffing unbelievably. Had he forgotten about Cygnus?

In intention to prevent more nonsense from her husband, she put on a charming smile and placed a delicate hand on Phineas’s arm, addressing their guests in an apologetic tone:

“Unfortunately, my dear husband can’t introduce you to our youngest, for Cygnus is not yet 1,5 years-old and his presence at a dinner table wouldn’t really be appropriate, would it? He is staying in the nursery. Hopefully quietly so or the evening will be quite demanding for the ear I am afraid.“

Phineas started to laugh drily and somehow forced, which caused Burke and his wife to join in out of courtesy.

The not so jolly general amusement was suddenly interrupted by Herbert’s thin, high voice. He walked over to Belvina, who had been confusingly looking back and forth her parents and their guests.

“Did you know that a millipede has a maximum of 750 legs?“ Herbert asked her with an excited voice followed by a childish chuckle. The room fell dead-silent. In an instant, Ursula turned her head towards Phineas. He returned her questioning gaze with a puzzled expression. Ursula furrowed her brows slightly. And then, all out of a sudden, Belvina started to giggle calmly and a bit shyly. Herbert beamed at her. Arcturus only stared at Herbert as if he were a cyclops.

“Yes, haha, that´s my clever boy! Well, Ursula, you might have noticed we decided to leave Cynthia in her bedroom at home as well.“

Then, he directed his words to Ursula’s husband again. “Our youngest children are hardly the ones that matter on an evening like this, isn’t that right, Phineas?“

@phineasnigellusblack

[phineasnigellusblack]

The shrill ring of the bell broke the silence that had fallen, the overtly joyful song of Caractacus Burke echoing down the hall. Phineas glanced to Ursula, catching the tail end of her glare before she ushered the children aside to wait in the wings. What had he done now?! Was the woman NEVER satisfied? Honestly. He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the womanly nonsense. It shall have to wait, whatever it is. No doubt frustration from their earlier encounter… Straightening his back, smoothing out his suit jacket, and wiping his moustache, his free hand instinctively resting over his pocket-watch. Catching a glimpse of himself in the ornate mirror above the mantel as he adjusted his cufflinks, Phineas examined himself, raising his chin to the air, the sight pleasing. In an instant, he was no longer the bumbling Headmaster. The absent father. The neglectful husband. He was the patriarch of the most ancient and noble House of Black. But, there was something…. something unwelcome he felt in the pit of his chest. Something he saw in the crease of his brow.

“Black! What a pleasure to be invited to the halls of the ancestral home of one of Britain’s most important wizarding families!“ The saloon door swung open, giving way to the source of such noise. Caractacus had clearly brushed himself up since their run in at the Ministry only hours ago. His ginger hair was now swept back with so much pomade one might have believed it had not been washed in a decade. The infernal scent of a stale cologne clearly reserved only for special occasions filled the room, suffocating. Yet, Phineas bravely entered the battlefield, welcoming the charmless man with a forced air of relaxation and shared gladness, clasping his shoulder and taking his hand in welcome. As if the man’s smell was not off putting enough, his overly familiar toothy grin set Phineas uneasy. Reminding him of the unsavoury cause of their invitation. His mother’s voice echoed in his mind, ‘A Burke? Are you quite mad boy. Oh well it will have to do I suppose-‘

The clear overconfidence of their guest was most repellent. There was an art to carrying confidence that only true class could obtain. Burke, was not among them. The man was built like a half snapped twig and carried himself equally as poorly. Hardly someone who should be flouncing superiority. In their school days as memory served, Burke had been equally as unpleasant. Though, far quieter. In fact, his newly discovered confidence greatly reminded Phineas of his unfortunate brother in law… at least Orson had the excuse of his sister making something of herself. What did the Burke’s have? Besides a small shop and a tepid reputation. Superiority by association. Pitiful. The very fact that such a man had orchestrated himself to hold the name of Black to account. To ransom. Was utterly loathsome. His evident self satisfaction clear in every smirk, and cocked brow that graced his most unfortunate face. A face that lacked all charm and dignity. A face that reeked of untrustworthiness.

Phineas despised him.

“Burke! So glad you could join us. Welcome, welcome.”

The alcohol had worked its magic, coursing through his blood and giving him the resolution to feign politeness and ignore the doubt that pitted in his stomach. Phineas’ act was a well practiced one. Well mastered. One he and Ursula were well accustomed to adopting. Every social gathering. Every public event within their circles. Their families. Though, his words usually aided by a cock of the brow, a remark of condescension and superiority. This time, did not. Only, overt politeness. He was under no illusion Ursula would fail to notice. Clever Witch she was. She would understand the circumstances of the gathering. And it most certainly, was not for pleasure.

So caught in his attentions towards Caractacus, Phineas had almost failed to note Mrs Burke. Bowing and placing a soft kiss upon her gloved hand in afterthought, barely giving the woman a glance in doing so. She was a remarkably plain woman. Phineas struggled to recall her name and concluded the effort of trying was hardly worth it. Phineas had always found the woman sheepish. Reserved. Quiet. Lacking of any and all respectability outside of politics, in his mind. He had made small talk with her previously. Or at least, attempted to, on multiple occasions. Only to leave more exasperated than before. She seemed to speak almost as plainly as she appeared. Saying only what was necessary. What she was told to say no doubt. Where was the woman’s pride? A pure blooded woman like that. He noticed her mousey hair, while tied back neatly, did not have the same attention as Ursula’s. Perhaps they did not have as many house-elves waiting on them. Pity. His eyes cast to her dress. The very same dress he noted she wore to their last soirée. He recalled Ursula noting even then the distaste of her dress. And indeed, compared to Ursula, she was but a stone among jewels. Did Burke have no pride either? Merlin. He was hardly an expert in women’s fashion, but that drab cloth could hardly be seen in good taste. Ursula would not be caught dead in it. What was he getting them into…

Something panged in Phineas’ chest as a pale haired gawped boy entered close to his mother. Looking about the room with his mouth open, eyes wide and bugged. Blinking harshly and slowly. As if perpetually trying to clear his vision to the splendour around him. It did not take Phineas long to formulate his assessment. The boy was peculiar. An oddity. Unworthy to so much as stand in the same room as him. Phineas’ heart sank. His stomach lurched. He continued with forced optimism and hope of being mistaken. "Ah, and that young man must be Herbert then?” Unfortunately, the boy’s enthusiastic and clearly well rehearsed response did little to quell the sickness Phineas felt rising, his bow causing Phineas’ smile to develop to gritted teeth, the urge to demand a drink barely containable.

Silence.

Merlin’s beard. The boy was quite mad. He could not be serious…. Realising that silence had befallen the room, Phineas cleared his throat with a dry and raspy- “Ah, yes, ahem, well!" Gesturing for his own family to approach, unable to look at them. Perhaps the boy simply needed to SEE how respectable wizards behave.

Introducing Ursula, he knew she would play her part perfectly. Approaching, the very meaning of grace and decorum. Phineas could not help but watch how she swayed with each step. That dress did suit- He watched her with something close to pride. Until of course, he noticed Burke. The man was practically leering, and making no attempt to hide it. Did the man have no decency either?! A lady was not to be gawped at as such! Then again… he could hardly blame him… If ursula had noticed, she did not let on. Even as he held her hand a few seconds longer than necessary, his sickening smirk widened, his own wife looking resolutely to the floor. But he was in no position to interject. Not even in jest could he risk it. Noticing Ursula’s quizzical sneer to the young boy’s stupid smile, he quickly continued. "Ahem, this is my charming daughter Belvina." He paused. A pang in his chest. Glancing down to the girl as he placed a hand on her shoulder before continuing. “And Arcturus.” He waved his hand dismissively in the boy’s general direction. “My two youngest children." When the gentle weight of Ursula’s hand took his arm, Phineas made no complaint at the correction. Audibly, at least. Closing his eyes and taking a breath as she spoke. Really, what was her grievance?! Showing him up? The bundle hardly constituted as a child yet. It was still practically a fetus. A blob, a loud one at that. Trouble, and nothing more. He found as Ursula spoke, a dry, distasteful chuckle escaped him. No humour in his eyes. His own hand resting to pat her own condescendingly. The charade of unification. It was a tone he knew she would recognise as a warning.

“Very amusing my dear. Now, please do-“

"Did you know that a millipede has a maximum of 750 legs?"

…

It appeared the strange child had made his way over to Belvina. Snorting and chuckling as saliva spat out his mouth with excitement. Ursula looked to Phineas alarm in her eyes, accusatory, questioning. He merely looked back at her, equally as lost, mouth ajar. Confusion clear across his features. What in Merlin’s name… But then, Belvina’s laughed. She actually laughed. First a giggle and then the next moment, fits of unbeidled laughter. Arcturus shifted by his mother’s side, looking from the scene to his parents, reading their expressions like gospel. Phineas was in half a mind to scold the girl for such undignified behaviour. The boy was clearly a bad influence and not inclinded to their way of life. But then Caractacus’ laughter joined the chorus. Praising his son?! Before addressing Ursula. The fact was, Phineas had forgotten the Burke’s even had other children poor woman so the very fact they weren’t in attendance did not strike him as bizarre. Clearly a sentiment not shared by his wife.

"Our youngest children are hardly the ones that matter on an evening like this, isn't that right, Phineas?"

“Haha, quite so, quite so.” It was an uneasy laugh. Not that they would notice. But Ursula. Ursula would, he had no doubt. She knew him better than he gave credit. Phineas attempted an at ease smile, clasping his hands together before gesturing to the various sofas and seats. “Do have a seat.”

Pre-dinner drinks, a chance for all to converse amongst themselves before the formalities of dinner and the evening divide. Scrope had remained against the wall by the doorway. Out of sight and out of mind. Phineas glared his way, his false smile dropping in an instant. The house elf disappearing instantaneously. His orders silent but clear. Tea. “Tea?” He then asked in afterthought. Murmurs of agreement, Burke’s overeager smile, patting his boy on the back before reclining on a sofa, arms behind his head. Phineas felt irritation flare. The gall. Taking a seat beside the man, Phineas watched as Ursula ushered the children to sit together to one side while she took her perch on the opposing sofa next to Burke’s wife. Meetings such as these were as orchestrated as any dance. Everyone had a role. And that role needed to be played in accordance. As such, each pair soon engaged in their own meaningless conversations. He heard Ursula make comment to the plain woman of their journey, and enquire upon the wellness of their other children. Phineas glanced to the drinks cabinet as Caractacus’ incessant vocalisations droned in his ear. The usual sucking up. Phineas allowed it. A stoic stillness across his features as he glanced across the room to the children. Belvina and Herbert seemingly talking enthusiastically. Arcturus at least had his senses and looked utterly appalled.

“Yes quite, one moment- boy.” He snapped his fingers in Arcturus’ direction. Gathering his attention in a second, eyes wide and alert. Phineas inclined his head to the piano. “Play for us.” A kindness really. Saving the boy from conversing with the other. Being influenced by him. And of course now there was a somewhat more pleasing noise filling his ears. “As I was saying-“ Caractacus could talk for England. That much was clear. Phineas generally made a habit of not engaging in conversation that was not necessary. Especially with those he did not care for. And so resigned himself to listen. Reclining in his seat, radiating an air of a man at ease and in his element. A subtle reminder of whose house they were in as he watched the man yabber with a raised brow, and the occasional hum of agreement. With such stimulating company, it did not take long for Phineas’ mind to wander. Ursula seemed to be managing conversation with Burke’s wife well enough. Their conversation notably quieter than Burke’s. Whatever Ursula was saying, Phineas noticed her demeanour had softened since earlier. A look he had only seen her adorn when one of their children was upset, or hurt. It was a terribly pitiful look. He recalled the unfortunate instance where a student’s prank had gone a little too far resulting in him being terribly unwell for a number of days. She had given him that look then too. He tried listening in, but to no avail. Ursula glancing his way as Burke’s wife nodded towards him. Her glare turning icy and sharp before returning to the woman before her.

So she was still displeased… Curious. Perhaps it was for the best that Phineas neglected to identify the true source of his wife’s blatant aggravation. But then again, where obliviousness lurked, assumption was often not far away. As Burke’s words became muffled noise, he thought of how with each word that had left his mouth prior to their guests arrival, her glare had intensified and hardened. Her brows lowered. Her mouth tightened. The cogs in Phineas’ head turned. He was quite under the impression he had absolved her of her sour mood! But one thing was certain, her gaze was not one of desire as he had initially believed. It was deep distaste. Phineas wracked his brain, still watching his wife, Caractacus’ voice having lowered somewhat as he spoke conspiratorially. “Hm. Yes. Quite. Indeed. Rather.” Phineas absentmindedly agreed. What on earth could be the cause this time? Why, the only events that had transpired since her mood had seemed improved was his coming downstairs and his own poorly timed self-predicament. Which was HER FAULT, he might add. Was it due to his neglect of his marital duties? Surely she was a sensible woman enough to recognise they had more important matters at hand. Although… his eyes drifting back to her chest of their own accord.

No, he had come downstairs, checked each room twice over, wallowed in self pity, and-… spoke to the children.

The children.

He was well aware that marriage had done little to fuse the couple’s approach to parenting. It, differed, so to say. Where Ursula excelled, Phineas remarkably lacked. Not that he saw it that way of course. No, by his standards, he was doing an excellent job. Parenting was not pandering. It was efficient. Calculated. Disciplined. Orderly. A necessary evil. His mother had taught him that... His children respected him. Behaved around him. Knew how to toe the line. Besides, it really was Ursula’s domain. All he need do was usher them into the world then provide a role model for them to strive towards. And that, he had achieved. Had he been too harsh in her mind? Too critical? His inability to discuss it with his wife until their guests were to leave gnawed at him.

“Isn’t that right Black.” Burke’s spindly elbow prodded his side, knocking him from his thoughts, surprise escaping his mouth as his hand moved to rub his now pained rib. “Yes, yes. Of course.”

“OhhHo. I bet. Don’t get me wrong, my Emmie is fine but… well. Slow learner, if you catch my meaning.” A conspirital smirk. Phineas frowned. Then, froze. The realisation his guest had been speaking improprieties setting too late. The man truly was a parasite! Loathsome and vulgar. “‘Course I don’t suppose Mrs Black struggles with that now does she. How many children? Five was it? Pfft.” Phineas could feel his blood boil. What on earth was this man’s game. He should have him thrown out to the street. Daring to speak of his wife in such a way. He glanced to Ursula. She glared back.

“Yes well. As is our duty.” He scoffed quickly, hoping to put an end to the matter before quickly continuing with the first thing that came to mind. “I was surprised to see you at the Ministry today. It is good to see the Minister involve ‘shop’ owners in discussions, is it not.” This time, Phineas was unable to keep the snark out of his tone. His anger flared, the alcohol clearly making his lips looser. But it was as much as he dared. Burke was pushing boundaries. Seeing how much he might get away with. And they both knew, the name Black was in no position to ask them to leave at present. “If what he says is true then it impacts us all, don’t it.” That terribly common twang lilted Burke’s words, Phineas hiding his satisfaction at the man’s annoyance. “We were surprised you weren’t picked up by the Ministry, you know. Straight O’s I heard. Pity. Still, can’t blame you. Bet Hogwarts is just as cushy. Lucky landing that one, hey. Real twist of fortune.” The two watched one another. Eyes narrowed, jaws clenched.

“But then again,” Burke continued, his meaning evident. “Not all of us can be from the Noble House of Black.” An uncomfortable tense quiet fell.

“You are a very fortunate woman, Ursula. I may, call you Ursula?” It was not a question. Caractacus’ toothy grin no longer met his eyes. Phineas watched his wife carefully, noticing Burke’s wife watch the carpet with significant interest. “I am sure anyone would be pleased to marry into such a prestigious family. Why, your dear brother was telling me only yesterday how very wonderful it is have such, connections.”

[phineasnigellusblack]

Dear Professor Black, would you mind sharing your birthday with the audience?

This again?

Very well, it is the sixteenth of June.

All gifts shall be addressed to my office in advance. Alas, my wife has made it quite clear I shan’t be at the castle that day.

[knights-0f-walpurgis]

Incorrect Quote (ft. House Black)

Phineas Nigellus : Ursula… Ursula: I can tell by the tone of your voice that you are disappointed. Alas, I must further disappoint you by affirming how little I give a fuck.

[phineasnigellusblack]

Do you still have sugar quills as a treat? Or what sweets do you prefer? Come on, everyone has a treat from time to time.

Of course not. You would have a Headmaster of Hogwarts indulge in such infantile amusements?

…insolence…

However… I suppose out of all of the confectionery Honeydukes has to offer, sugar quills are, superior….

Though, I urge a reminder to all students and faculty that the consumption and indeed mere ownership of confectionary substances within the grounds of Hogwarts to be entirely PROHIBITED, and any substances found will be confiscated and destroyed with immediate effect. This is a place of study, not of amusement.

…

Ahem, yes.

*shuts the draw of desk*

[knights-0f-walpurgis]

Children of Ursula & Phineas

Sirius Black (II) (b. 1877 - d. 1952) was the eldest son of Phineas Nigellus Black and Ursula Flint. Born into the ancient and fiercely proud House of Black, Sirius was raised amidst the rigid expectations of blood purity, political influence, and unwavering family loyalty that defined his lineage. Though intelligent and charismatic in his youth, he quickly developed the cold arrogance and ruthless temperament that many associated with the Blacks of his generation.

As the eldest son, Sirius was groomed from childhood to uphold the prestige of the family name and to preserve its standing within pure-blood society. He inherited much of his father’s stern disposition and conservative ideology, often aligning himself with the more elitist circles of wizarding Britain. From an early age, he was taught that the Black family stood above nearly all others, and he carried this belief with an almost religious devotion throughout his life. Sirius valued reputation, lineage, and control above sentiment, becoming a man who viewed compassion as weakness and public disgrace as unforgivable.

Though respected among traditionalists, he was regarded by others as severe, prideful, and emotionally distant, even within his own household. Despite his coldness, Sirius believed wholeheartedly that his actions were necessary for the preservation of the family’s legacy. He viewed affection as secondary to duty and considered personal sacrifice an unavoidable burden of noble blood. To him, the House of Black was not simply a family but an institution that demanded loyalty above individual desire.

Phineas Black (b. 1878 - d. 1959) was the second-born son of Phineas Nigellus Black and Ursula Flint. Regarded as his mother's favorite child, it was said that Phineas inherited the Flint family's sharp tongue, prideful temperament, and talent for subtle manipulation more strongly than any of his siblings. While his elder brother embodied the rigid authority of the Black family, Phineas possessed a far more socially adept and charismatic nature, making him exceptionally skilled at navigating the complex web of pure-blood society.

He displayed an uncanny ability to charm those around him while concealing a deeply analyzing mind beneath an elegant and composed exterior. He was known for his wit and refinement, often becoming the center of attention at social gatherings hosted by his family. With that said, although Phineas was second in line to inherit the title of Lord Black, he was still widely regarded by many within pure-blood society as the more personable and approachable of the two brothers.

In 1899, Phineas fell in love with a Muggleborn witch and secretly began working to support Muggle rights, a decision that stood in direct opposition to nearly everything he had been taught throughout his upbringing. What began as fascination slowly transformed into genuine affection, forcing Phineas to confront beliefs he had once accepted without question. Through her, he was exposed to perspectives far removed from the insular world of old pure-blood families, and for the first time in his life, he began to see the cruelty and hypocrisy woven into the ideals of blood supremacy.

Arcturus Black (II) (b. 1884 - d. 1959) was the third-born son of Phineas Nigellus Black and Ursula Flint. His birth proved to be difficult, as he had been born alongside his twin sister, who was stillborn. Ursula saw her third boy as a miracle child, for healers had reportedly feared that neither infant would survive the ordeal. Arcturus’ survival in the aftermath of such a traumatic birth was regarded by his mother as nothing short of providential, and from that moment onward she became fiercely protective of him in a way she was not with her other children. Arcturus was often compared to his maternal aunt, Armelle, who he was said to have shared a resemblance with.

Though raised within the same strict expectations as the rest of the House of Black, Arcturus experienced a quieter and more attentive upbringing under Ursula’s watchful eye. His mother’s affection softened certain aspects of his childhood, fostering within him a calmer and more contemplative temperament than that of his elder brothers. While Sirius embodied authority and Phineas charm, Arcturus became known for his introspective nature and unusual sensitivity for a man born into one of wizarding Britain’s proudest pure-blood families.

Arcturus had a rather diplomatic disposition and became an Auror, a career path that surprised many within the House of Black. While the position carried prestige, it also required cooperation with a wide range of witches and wizards regardless of blood status, something several of his more traditional relatives viewed with disapproval. Nevertheless, Arcturus excelled within the Ministry, earning recognition for his intelligence, composure under pressure, and remarkable ability to de-escalate volatile situations without unnecessary violence.

Belvina Burke (née Black) (b. 1886 - d. 1962) was the only live-born daughter and fourth-born child of Phineas Nigellus Black and Ursula Flint. As the sole daughter to survive infancy, Belvina occupied a unique and carefully guarded position within the House of Black, adored by certain members of her family while simultaneously burdened by the immense expectations placed upon her as a representative of the family’s prestige. From an early age, she was raised to embody the refinement, elegance, and social superiority expected of a pure-blood witch of noble standing.

Mistress Black was pressured by her father from a young age to make a favorable impression on prospective suitors, as her marriage was viewed not simply as a personal matter, but as an opportunity to strengthen the influence and reputation of the House of Black. Great care was placed into her upbringing, from her education and etiquette to the way she spoke, dressed, and carried herself in public. She was expected to embody the refinement of her family perfectly, serving as a living reflection of Black prestige within elite pure-blood society.

Despite the expectations put onto Belvina by her parents, she struggled to preserve the mask her family had carefully crafted for her. The witch gradually turned to alcohol as a means of coping with the relentless pressure and emotional isolation that defined much of her adult life. What began as quiet indulgence during private evenings and social functions slowly developed into a dependency hidden beneath elegance, expensive crystal glasses, and carefully maintained composure.

Cygnus Black (II) (b. 1889 - d. 1943) was the youngest son of Phineas Nigellus Black and Ursula Flint. As the last son born to his father, Cygnus was overlooked and undervalued within the household, growing up in the shadow of elder brothers who had already secured distinct roles and expectations within the family. Unlike Sirius’ authority, Phineas’ charm, or Arcturus’ intellect, Cygnus struggled throughout his youth to establish an identity that felt truly his own.

The young Master Black possessed a volatile and passionate temperament that frequently placed him at odds with members of his family. Though intelligent in his own right, he lacked the restraint and diplomacy of some of his siblings, often acting impulsively when driven by emotion or pride. He developed a reputation for being unpredictable — capable of great charm and humor one moment, only to become cold, bitter, or confrontational the next.

He was regarded as difficult to manage, though others quietly recognized that much of his behavior stemmed from years spent feeling insignificant within his own family. His elder brothers deemed him an annoyance, a nuisance whose impulsive behavior and constant need for attention disrupted the dignity and order they believed the House of Black should uphold. Cygnus was often viewed as immature, emotionally reactive, and unnecessarily rebellious, particularly during his younger years.

Thank you to @harbinger-0f-spring for helping me find images for these aesthetics.

Also, I am very appreciative of @theblackswan-and-thewhiterose for helping me write some of these biographies.

[phineasnigellusblack]

You‘re such a bad father. And such a bad husband. No secret you are the worst headmaster ever. Damn it. Guess money and an old name are not everything.

Hm.

Interesting choice of words.

I do hope you are able to find suitable education outside of Hogwarts.

Get out.

[phineasnigellusblack]

When did you start sporting a moustache? Hard to imagine you without it. It’s trés chic.

Keen observation. I am relieved to hear that some here can appreciate finer tastes.

To answer your question, I have had it ever since I was able to, as any respectable wizard should.

Though, I appreciate not all can attain one as magnificent as my own of course. It takes years of meticulous care and attention, the expenses of which are, needless to say, reserved only for the better among us. Now, the real trick, is the correct ointments-

[ursulaflintblack]

Ursula waited, her fingers holding the precious diamond necklace in place. Of course Phineas had tried to back out. To reinstall the distance between them. Had pretended to be terribly busy. An empty excuse, for he was very much still there with her and busy with something else.

And Ursula had noticed everything. The way his eyes had been roaming over her body shaped by the tight corset. The blush that had creeped upon his cheeks. The way his breath had got heavier. And the obvious physical reaction in his neither regions under the fine fabric of his tailored breeches.

His words were hanging in the air, the sentence unfinished. Apparently she had made him speechless. She had to acknowledge that with a certain amount of satisfaction. Phineas Nigellus Black was NEVER at a loss of words and always had to have the last word. Now, as she watched him standing behind her in the mirror, she could see the wheels in his head turn. Or jam.

He was so close to her right now, she could feel his warmth, smell his cologne, but also the alcohol on his breath (which she normally detested) and hear him swallow hard. What she could also feel, was her own growing anticipation and the effects of having him so close behind her. Her own breath slightly faster, the restriction of the corset even tighter all of a sudden now.

For a moment, time stood still.

She saw him staring at her bare upper back in the mirror. Examining her like he would a Greek sculpture out of marble. The tension between them was almost unbearable. Yet, there was still the possibility for him to turn away from her, scoffing, telling her they had servants for a reason, scolding her for her cheap display.

Instead, Phineas removed his white evening gloves and placed them aside on her vanity. Ursula then could feel the slightest contact of his fingertips as he brushed aside a lock of hair that had come out of her updo. That alone caused her to shiver. Had he noticed? He cleared his throat again and then gingerly took the delicate silver clasp of the necklace. Closed it expertertly. He had done so before.

The touch of his warm fingers made Ursula hold her breath. She felt her pulse quicken. He had such beautiful hands. Always meticulously manicured, the skin soft. She had never known his touch to be crude, but always careful and gentle. He wasn’t a brute. Distant and closed, yes, but never crude. His fingers lingered, resting against her warm, soft skin longer than necessary after the simple task had long been completed. Ursula closed her eyes for a second, relishing the feeling.

It had been so long.

To her surprise, his finger then moved to her right shoulder, applying a tiny amount of pressure in order to direct her to turn around. She did so, immediately looking up to him. Again, she felt his eyes on her. On her lips, then lower, to her now heaving chest, captured by her cleavage pushing forward with every breath. It was a look of blatant desire and clear intention.

At that, Ursula felt a tug in her lower abdomen. Their eyes locked once again and she gazed at him imploringly. Waiting for him to lean in and kiss her. She longed for it. Forgotten were all the harsh words and condescending looks of disapproval from earlier. She would take any of that for one moment of this. With the man behind the facade. And because of the clear state of her husband’s arousal, her thoughts and hopes went even further.

Would he want to…. Was he going to… Now?

There was still an hour until the guests arrived. Arcturus was certainly still in the drawing room. Belvina dressing up her doll, bless her. And Cygnus being cared for and fed by the house elf. Phineas and her were alone. In their bedroom. With her not fully clothed, her hair not yet coiffured. Well, she couldn’t care less about her hair now!

She would have time to make herself presentable afterwards, anyways. More than enough time. Phineas was as …efficient in their marital affairs as he was in everything else. Usually a few minutes were sufficient for him to do his duty. Determined. She was used to the circumstance her enjoyment was more often secondary. She never spoke up. That was nothing for a proper wife to do.

But there had been different times. When he had had some alcohol, just as he had consumed the bloody stuff now. Then, he was prone to get more… passionate. And even if she despised his drinking habits (and the taste of alcohol on his lips) she couldn’t deny she much more enjoyed their encounters after him having had downed some drinks, because, peculiarly, his level of attention towards her own pleasure would rise significantly.

The memory came in a flash. Of the last time he had been like that with her. The soirée at Gaunt Manor. The black dress. The marks on her neck she had found the following day, just behind her ear and above the jugular vein. Magic had only been able to tone down his claims on her. It hadn’t been the only ’creative’ thing he had tried with her in his inebriated passion, though. And it had made her think where exactly he had got the inspiration from. Also, her husband had the tendency to fall asleep QUITE quickly afterwards. So perhaps it was more reasonable to postpone any sort of marital activities to later.

Phineas seemed to had come to the same conclusion because he regained his composure and drew away his eyes, only for them to land on the black evening dress, his tone now confident again if only slightly raspy.

“Our guests will arrive within the hour. I suggest, you finish readying yourself. Unless, there ist anything else you may be in need of assistance of.“

Oh, there was definitely something she could need his assistance of now!

But that was nothing she would ever voice in his presence. That sort of openness was deemed inappropriate for a lady of her standing. Nothing a wife would ask of her husband. The words of her mother creeped into her mind once again.

‘A wife has to be silent and obedient, Ursula. Your desires or wishes are not important. You must never mention them in front of your husband. It is unbecoming.‘

Phineas‘s voice reached her again, pulling her back to reality when he added in a slightly lower tone, without looking at her:

“ I am sure you shall be the envy of all.“

His compliment came unexpected. It was a poor substitute for what Ursula had silently hoped for, (he could have kissed her on the cheek or embraced her at least! Leaving her like that after practically undressing her with his eyes and showing his obvious desire for her, was simply cruel!), but for a man like him, it was still a praise of the highest order.

A bit stunned, she couldn’t find her voice at first. Then, trying her best to not sound too disappointed and needy, she donned a sincere smile and told him in a calm and meaningful tone:

“Thank you, Phineas.“

He simply nodded, then turned to leave.

For a while, Ursula stared at the closed door. Processing all the piled up emotions. She really had to get dressed now. And she had to check on the children as well.

After she had summoned Dinky, who helped her into the evening dress and pinned her mistress’s dark curls into an elegant, loose low bun, Ursula picked up her black long silk gloves and made her way to the nursery to kiss her youngest, who was already laying very sleepily and well-fed in his cot, goodnight. Ursula was grateful for his calm state, she wouldn’t have had the time nor the nerves to pick him up and rock him to sleep. With a swish of her wand, the enchanted mobile above his head started to move, tiny owls were spreading their wings and flying in slow circles.

One last loving look at her dear baby boy, a caress of his chubby cheek, then Ursula left the nursery, smiling.

But when she entered her daughter’s room, Ursula was regaled with a different scene altogether. The 4-year old was sitting on the floor, pressing her beloved doll against her chest. The girl’s big eyes red and swollen, tears still running down her cherubic face. The new velvet dress torn and ripped apart.

Before Ursula could have asked what in Salazar´s name she had done, Belvina started crying louder upon the sight of her mother.

“Daddy, sniff , daddy, sniff, daddy doesn’t like my new dress, and… and, I don’t want to wear it anymore, I wanted to take it off, but, sniff, I…. I couldn’t.“

Ursula took a deep breath, her brows furrowing in concern, before she walked over to Belvina and lowered herself to pat her back.

“Now, now, Belvina that is nonsense, your father hasn’t even seen your dress. I’m sure he will like it, it is so lovely.“

“No, he doesn’t, sniff!!“

An uneasy feeling overcame Ursula. It was clear that the girl wasn’t lying and making such a fuss over nothing. Something involving her father had had to have occurred. What sorrow had he caused now?

She decided to not dwell on it for too long. She would find out soon enough. And if Belvina’s words contained a grain of truth…

Time was running and Belvina had had to be presentable for their guests. Phineas would have been furious if not and blamed it on her, with her clearly failing in her duty as a mother. So all Ursula could have done, was damage control. As always.

“Hush little owlet, I am sure your father didn’t mean what he said. He has a lot on his mind because of the dinner, you know. It is very important to him and our guests are as well. Why don’t we make you beautiful again and go downstairs, mh? I can’t be the only lady next to your father and brother, can I? Come on, sometimes we have to pull ourselves together regardless of how we are feeling. Get up for me, will you?“

Belvina eyed her mother calculating, but nodded eventually, sniffing heavily one last time. Ursula took out her wand and casted ‘Reparo’ on the torn dress before she wiped away her daughters tears and kissed her on the forehead.

“There, that is my lovely girl! I expect you to behave now, love, and I want you to make me proud. Now, shall we put Miss Josephine to bed and go downstairs?“

Mother and daughter headed towards the ground floor; Belvina’s little hand in Ursula’s. The girl had cheered up a bit, beaming in awe at the shiny beads on her mother’s dress. Passing by the half closed door of the drawing room, Ursula called for Arcturus to join them. The boy looked even more gloomy than before, his head hanging low. He had had to be just nervous about playing in front of an audience later… Or so Ursula tried to fight her motherly alert. Arcturus was an introverted boy who preferred to settle things with himself. She had left him in Phineas‘s company earlier. A mistake, as it seemed. But then again the man was the boy’s father, for Merlin’s sake! He had to be capable of being around their offspring without being overly expectant and strict. It really made her furious and she could sense the familiar feeling of anger towards her husband rise again. She wouldn’t let him continue to take out whatever was troubling him on his children. Gone for good was the tender image of him during that intimate moment in their bedroom!

“Arcturus, I would very much like it if you minded your posture a bit during the evening and be polite when addressed by our guests. I know you are a responsible and well-mannered boy. And don’t worry about your piano play, I am positive you will excel later.“ No matter what your father has said to you.

The trio entered the salon on the ground floor. The grand room was already illuminated by candles and a roaring fire. A group of elegant plush chairs was arranged in front of the fireplace and family portraits adorned the papered walls. A house elf was quietly standing in one corner, carrying a silver tray with champagne in ornated glasses.

Ursula spotted her husband standing by the window. Much to her dismay, she also noticed a tumbler of golden liquor in his hand again. She had lost count on the amount of drinks he had already had. She pursed her lips. She was not going to comment on that now. Phineas turned his head after he had noticed the arrival of his wife and two of their children. He looked them up and down, lingering a second longer on his wife’s form clad in the black dress. Of course, Ursula was already well aware she was making a stunning appearance. The envy of them all…

He seemed to approve what he saw because no contrary remark left his mouth.

Ursula took a few steps towards him, taking Belvina with her, whose dark brows furrowed and her bottom lip protruded upon seeing her father. Behind her back, Arcturus moved to one corner of the room, trying to become one with the shadows.

Ursula gave her husband one stern and knowing look that could beat even the most potent veritaserum before turning to her daughter.

“Belvina, why don’t you show your father your new dress?“

When Ursula’s eyes darted back to Phineas, she failed to hide the provocative tone and the unmissable glare that accompanied her words:

“Your daughter has waited so long for a special occasion to finally wear it! And doesn’t she look lovely in it, dear? Goodness, but you must be still amazed by your son‘s talent on the keys!“

@phineasnigellusblack

[phineasnigellusblack]

“Thank you, Phineas.“

He noticed how the gentle smile lightened her features. It was an unusual sight. It suited her. It was not sharp, nor forced. He inclined his head to keep from exchanging such a look, before turning to leave, the door closing behind him a little more firmly than he had anticipated.

All in all, Phineas couldn’t help but feel rather satisfied in his conduct. He had brightened the spirits of his wife, entertained her, and maintained control of his own senses throughout, despite Ursula’s intentions. In fact, he believed he had played it off incredibly well! His high spirits even reassured him that Ursula likely hadn’t even noticed his own difficulty. No. She hadn’t noticed a thing. He congratulated himself silently. He could hardly stomach a thought to the embarrassment had that not been the case. He was only fortunate to be such well breeding to be above such vulgarity. Puffing out his chest, a self satisfied smirk threatening the corner of his lips, Phineas strolled down the corridors and stairs without much thought beyond his own arrogance. If he had not been so caught up in his own musings, he might have heard the dreadful tear of fabric and distant sobs radiating from his daughter’s room. But as it was. He did not. And his internal celebrations continued. Turning his mind to how very fortunate his family were to have him. First managing Belvina’s behaviour. Encouraging Arcturus with his studies. And of course, now Ursula… why, he had even paid her a compliment! He was certain to have an easy week after such trials.

Deciding to occupy the next few moments of his time wisely, Phineas considered retiring to his study for a while, at least until the unfortunate effects of his wife’s advances dissaperated. It really was most ill considered of her. She must have known precisely what it was she was doing… But ultimately, elected to inspect the dining room, every candle had been lit, anxious house-elves polishing the silverware twice over until it reflected the light in cold white streaks. Each and every piece of ornate cutlery positioned precisely half an inch from the table edge, in accordance with his wife’s orders no doubt.

Splendid.

With a check of his pocket watch, he glanced sharply to the grandfather clock in the hall, as if it might tell him a different story. Time was ticking on. Literally. Passing Arcturus, already dressed in suitable evening attire. Phineas noticed the staunchly glum look adorning the child’s face. His head down. Eyes averted to anything but the floor before him. Phineas wondered the boy didn’t simply become a part of the furniture, he was so desperate to blend in with his surroundings. But he was in a gracious mood. He had already saved the day twice over. What was once more.

“Do cheer up boy. We shouldn’t wish the Burke’s to think you an idiot now shall we…. And do pomade your hair. It is sticking up on end awfully. Well? Get a move on boy.”

It had started raining, the grey London streets beyond Grimmauld Place becoming blurred shapes through the streaked windows as droplets raced down them. The saloon was not much warmer. Despite the fire, now stoked and burning with flickering trails of light dancing and disappearing. Despite the emerald wallpaper glowing lightly beneath the sconces. Candlelight reflecting each gold frame and crystal decanter. The room remained, cold. Settling himself before the hearth with all the air of a man in complete command of both his household and himself. A house elf, bowing before quickly scurrying to dust shelves and puff cushions, while another brought in a tray of flute glasses filled with pale, bubbly liquid, taking great care in where it placed its oversized feet. It appeared there was nothing left to do but to wait.

Settling deeper into the upholstery, Phineas closed his eyes contentedly.

Yes.

All things considered, he was in rather an admirable mood. His wife, he was reminded, was in fact rather beautiful. His household, was orderly enough. His children were developing tolerably well. His guests would soon arrive and the evening would soon be ancient history. Thank Merlin.

His fingers drummed against the armrest.

Then again.

He realised he was doing it, and stopped.

Tick.

Tick.

He had only been in their bedroom but a moment. Hardly any time at all. And yet, somehow, that moment returned to his mind. His brow furrowing. Recalling it all in perfect detail. Ursula, stood before the mirror in no more than her undergarments. Candlelight catching the pale curve of her neck and the sharp line of her collarbone. Her imploring gaze. Her hair, only half pinned. How well it would look loose, cascading in dark waves down her back…

Phineas crossed one leg over the other with a huff.

Uncrossed it.

Picked up a book from the side table.

Turned it the correct way up.

Read the same sentence four times.

“…mm.”

Lowered the book. In doing so, allowing his thoughts to return directly to his wife’s bare shoulders. Chest. Ankles.

The frown deepened.

The whole affair was ridiculous. He had been married for years.

Years!

Had five children for Godricks sake!

Perhaps it had simply been too long. He should have to rectify it before declining fully to idiocy. He adjusted his cuffs, taking a deep breath, willing his mind to still.

…

‘I wonder should Burke behave…’

…

‘Perhaps the man is merely all talk… spineless fool.’

…

‘I wonder how Ursula shall look in that dress-‘

He scoffed with a roll of the eyes as his mind drifted back, snapping his fingers and ordering the nearest house elf to scurry over and fetch him a tall glass of brandy. One more couldn’t hurt now could it. Besides, he had earned it. A reward was well overdue and he was certain his wife would agree.

-

Standing before the tall window, one hand clasped behind his back, the other maintaining the brandy. Light poured through as the saloon door opened, three figures casting a shadow across the long room. His wife entered first. And every coherent thought immediately abandoned him. Her black dress, beaded delicately, catching the candlelight with every subtle shift and movement, was entrancing. Her dark locks were pinned back respectfully, allowing Phineas, not so respectfully, full view of the elegant line of her throat, upon which carefully rested an ornate and incredibly expensive necklace. Her silhouette clearly defined against the light. The dress was elegant as he last remembered, and suited her arguably more than any of her others, in his opinion. He had no criticism, and trusted his silence would be met as praise.

She looked every inch the Black matriarch.

Lingering behind her, Arcturus clutched at his sleeves with a look of withdrawn discontent that only adolescent boys could manage. Though, his hair had at least been combed into place with painful precision. And clinging onto Ursula’s hand, Belvina, red and puffy eyed. Had she been crying recently? Phineas chose not to dwell on that.

In his blissful ignorance, Phineas did not notice he had been looking for perhaps too long at his wife’s form, again, continuing to leer as he sipped his drink. Nor did he notice the close knit glare adorning her features. To him, hers was merely a look of continued longing. Rightly so. He did look rather marvellous himself. Yes, it seemed he had done well to set such a pleasing precedent for the evening. They both clearly were of the same mind for how the evening would go. Especially since he had regained his confidence from the bottom of a glass.

“Belvina, why don’t you show your father your new dress?“

It was a peculiar demand and Phineas’s brief confusion by the triviality must have shown as Ursula continued.

“Your daughter has waited so long for a special occasion to finally wear it! And doesn’t she look lovely in it, dear? Goodness, but you must be still amazed by your son‘s talent on the keys!“

He glanced to Belvina who had now crossed her arms with a decided pout. He raised a brow, about to comment on it when he caught Ursula’s eye, and seemed to think better of it. A look that suggested to him he may wish to say something appeasing if to keep the evening hopeful.

Phineas blinked.

“…yes, of course.” It sounded more like a question and noticed Ursula close her eyes for a second. “Yes…” his eyes still on his wife. “Very pleasing, Belvina.” Phineas glanced at Arcturus who has slinked across the room no doubt to hide out of the way. His keen eyes noticing an unevenness in the boy’s tie, and snapping his fingers for him to approach. Ignoring his son with an involuntary scowl while speaking over his head to his wife, he began undoing and correcting his son’s tie. Whichever house elf was responsible would be answering directly.

“Indeed, he plays tolerably well.”

A compliment.

“I have instructed the boy to waste less time with the pianoforte. If he were to apply himself thus to the art of magic we might see promise, hm?” Pulling the tie to, he nodded at the child as if that settled the matter before turning his attention back to his wife. That was when he noticed, that her glare, was not wavering. The smile she fashioned earlier, seemed a distant memory. Now, why is that? It was only when Belvina’s pout grew painfully more aggressive, and the tips of Arcturus’ ears turned pink, that the unease set in.

“Come, you need not look so wounded, boy. It was a passable performance.” Arcturus immediately looked worse. Phineas frowned. Really, the child ought to have been grateful. “Sensitive boy.” He muttered under his breath.

“Merlin’s beard. Belvina. Would you cease with that incessant pouting. Your face shall remain stuck such if you do not. You are a Black,” he reminded her, as if she could forget. “Blacks do not pout”

“You pout” Belvina looked perilously close to tears again.

“I do not p-“

He raised a hand to head. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Phineas muttered before staring at both ladies with increasing confusion. Ursula’s eyes narrowed on him. Realisation flooded him. A thought he had disregarded so freely, now creeping back into his mind. The reason she was behaving so strangely! Concern setting on his brow.

Had she noticed?

Where would his pride be then. No, surely not. He had dealt with the situation in a wholly respectable fashion. He had recovered admirably! He had descended the stairs calmly. He had spoken normally…. But then, a man entirely unaffected would not shut the bedroom door with such force that the portrait beside it rattled. Nor would he then stand in the corridor for several seconds staring fixedly at nothing while said portrait rambled off a number of choice words in his direction.

The corner of Ursula’s mouth twitched.

Godric, she knew.

She definitely knew. That had to be it. A horrifying suspicion crept over him. Had it been obvious? Surely not. He was a man of dignity! Not some pitiful newlywed incapable of surviving the sight of his own wife’s shoulder. But as she stepped closer. Diamonds flashed once at her throat when she moved, beads shimmering subtly under the candlelight. Her perfume growing stronger. He felt his heart rate creep as he fought to maintain his position.

Phineas realised with terrible clarity that he had not fooled her in the slightest.

Not even remotely.

And with his confidence waning. He did, as he always did. And deflected. Gesturing vaguely towards Arcturus with growing irritation.

“Really, if the boy intends to be talented he must learn not to cower every time someone speaks honestly.”

Somewhere downstairs a servant dropped silverware with a crash. The bell echoed across the house, sending a scurry of servant’s feet retreating to the kitchens.

The Burke’s, had arrived.

[phineasnigellusblack]

Sheesh, your wife‘s got a stalker😳

*scoffs*

Really. I highly doubt that.

[phineasnigellusblack]

Would you like it if your wife called you ‘Daddy‘??? And it doesn’t mean ‘father‘ btw.

I fail to see why she would.

Just as I fail to recognise why I should find enjoyment in such, irregularity…