Adele Black: The End

My Wand is Confiscated

"Were you aware that Peter Pettigrew was an animagus?" Draco asked his father, nervous and tense.

It was my second time speaking to Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, and it took a lot of convincing to get Draco to tag along. I finally managed to do it by promising him that I would take him to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes— somewhere he was never allowed to go before— and would buy him whatever he wanted.

"Everybody in the Dark Lord's circle knew he was an animagus," Lucius snorted in a condescending voice. He was acting like Draco was a ten year old boy, and it was getting infuriating.

"What animal did he turn into?"

"A rat."

"Now, are you aware of any plans that he might have made for after the Potter's died?" I asked.

Lucius sighed and eyed the plate of treacle tart wishfully.

"The plan... he was going to try to find Sirius Black, or at least have Black find him, and then he we would accuse Black of selling out the Potters. He then would use magic to kill however many muggles he had to, and cut off his finger and then he would transform into a rat and go down the sewers— leaving Sirius as the one to blame. After he would go into the sewers, I wasn't sure what his plan would be. Frankly, I was hoping that Black would actually kill him— he was annoying."

I paced the room as Draco sat stiffly in a chair across from his father. He hadn't looked him in the eye once.

"Had you ever seen him in his animagus form prior to Voldemort's return in the graveyard?" I asked, leaning against a wall.

Lucius sighed in annoyance. "No."

"Pettigrew, after selling out the Potters, found himself as the Weasley's pet rat. He first belonged to Percy Weasley, then to Ron Weasley. He was named Scabbers, and lived for a very, very long time— much longer than any rat, but that was because he wasn't really a rat. Scabbers was missing a finger on his front paw. All they ever found of Peter Pettigrew was a finger," I stated.

"Were you aware of Pettigrew's whereabouts between the period of time that Black was in Azkaban to when he escaped?" Draco asked with more confidence in his voice.

"No," Lucius said, staring directly at his son with a piercing gaze. "I thought he'd be dead by then. I was aware that he did manage to pull off his little stunt, but I thought he'd be killed by other rats once he managed to get to the sewers. But then..."

"Then?" I prodded as he trailed off.

"Then the bloody Weasley family won that prize. And there was a rat in the picture that was on the front page of the Daily Prophet, and the rat was missing a finger," Lucius said, his obvious distaste for the Weasley family evident in his voice.

"That was about the same time Black escaped," Draco said. "It was also the summer after you slipped the diary to Ginny Weasley."

There was a tense silence between the three of us. The only sound you could hear were the occasional screams of other prisoners and the claps of thunder from outside.

"Wow, really? I never would have guessed!" Lucius rolled his eyes and sarcastically said to his son. "Honestly Draco, you say the dumbest—"

"Knock it off," I scowled at Lucius. "If you really want this treacle tart, you'll behave and not act like a petty boy on the playground."

Lucius huffed and attempted to cross his arms only to be pulled back down to the table when was handcuffed to.

"Anyways... I knew then that he managed to pull it off and survive, and be under the noses of members of the Order of the Phoenix for 12 years! 12 years! How dumb do you have to be to—"

"I highly doubt anybody's first thought I'd that their pet is an animagus, much less a mass murderer," Draco deadpanned. "That, however, is besides the point. The point is that you were aware of the plan and knew Black was innocent, and still let the Ministry cart him off to prison."

Lucius bowed his head, his eyes focusing on the plate of food I was slowly making him just to get on his nerves. He then nodded his head.

"I did."

I had felt indifferent about today's interview until this point. Sure, there were bits and pieces of information that made me disgusted and upset, but now I was enraged.

I slammed the paper plate— something Lucius had made a nasty comment about, because apparently he wanted to use fine China for his meals— down in front of him. Crumbs from the treacle tart and a few peas jumped off the plate and rolled onto the table from my actions.

"You knew that he was innocent, you had pull at the Ministry, and you had the chance to intervene and give him a fair trial! He got no trial! He was shipped to this place, and sat in a cell for something he didn't do for 12 years! You knew about the plan for the crime, you knew that Pettigrew was an animagus, you knew he was the Potter's secret keeper, and you withheld information!" I exclaimed.

"Adele, breathe," Draco said. "Mr. Malfoy, are you aware that there was in fact an investigation into the Potter's death? They wanted information on everything that happened afterwards— including the whole Black-Pettigrew debacle. They wanted to know everything about Pettigrew's actions, Black's actions, whatever plans might have been laid out..."

"Yes, I was aware."

"Were you ever asked or interviewed by those investigators?" Draco asked, his voice gaining confidence.

I studied Lucius intently as I awaited his response. I was sure that my eyes were probably swirling with a storm, and I was trying my best to calm down.

"Yes."

"What did they ask you?" I fired out, crossing my arms.

"They asked me if I had ever seen Black at a Death Eater meeting," he retorted.

"And what was your response?" Draco asked.

A sick and twisted smile stretched across Lucius's face. "They never specified which Black... so I told them I had in fact seen Black at the meetings... but I never told them it was Regulus that I saw... I just let them think it was Sirius."

I started seeing red and it was at this moment that I felt the most enraged that I had ever felt. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears and I could feel my veins twitch. I had the sudden urge to call owls to peck at Lucius Malfoy until he couldn't speak. I began to lunge at him.

I opened my mouth, and for once in my life, I had no clue what I was about to say.

"YOU SICK BASTARD! HOW COULD YOU! YOU TWISTED—"

I heard the door open and briefly saw Harry and Ron begin to come in the room to prevent me from physically harming Lucius Malfoy. Draco gave his father a disgusted look and picked up all our materials and stomped out of the room, with me following close behind. Ron slammed the door behind him, and the last sight I had of Lucius Malfoy was him laughing like a maniac.

I drowned everything out except for the gnomes in the garden. I grabbed one by the tip of its hat and swung it around in my hand before chucking it across the grass. It made it out of the bounds of the yard, and I had a feeling that based on how hard I had thrown it, it wouldn't be back for a while.

After the gnomes were gone, I asked for another task, and had to do it without magic, which was fine by me.

After we were done in Azkaban earlier in the day, Harry and Ron decided that it was in everybody's best interest for them to keep hold of my wand until the end of the day. Draco agreed. I huffed and wanted to pick a fight, but knew deep down it was for everybody's best interest.

So here I was, angrily chopping up wood with an axe in the Burrow's backyard. I had gone straight to the Weasley's after I got to the apparition point, because there was nothing productive about me sulking alone in Grimmuald Place, and I needed a break from the case after this morning.

I had asked Mrs. Weasley if she needed help with anything that had to be done outside, and almost as if she could sense that I needed something to do, something to get my frustrations out, she had me de-gnome the garden and now I was chopping up firewood.

I wasn't sure how long I had been doing it for, but eventually I felt the anger inside of me disappear from my body. Eventually, I ran out of wood to chop. I told Mrs. Weasley that I was going to go take a walk and sit by the pond for a little while. She gave me a hug and thanked me and told me to take as long as I needed, but that dinner would be ready in three hours.

I strolled along the grass slowly, zipping up the hoodie I had on as a way to protect myself from the chilly March air. I finally made my way to the shallow bank of the pond and sat there for a moment doing nothing.

It then started to lightly mist, causing me to pull my hood up over my head. The sun was still shining, and I noticed a rainbow form in the reflection of the pond and mist. Hurriedly, I took the drachma out of my back pocket that I always kept there.

"Oh Fleecy, do me a solid. Show me Chiron and Camp Half-Blood," I said, tossing the drachma out into the pond.

Suddenly, the mist contorted to show Chiron in the Big House. He was in his wheel chair and had a blanket on him, and seemed to be playing a game of Solitaire by himself.

"Chiron," I said, my voice small.

He perked up and looked around the room before finally setting his ancient eyes on me.

"Adele! What a surprise! How is everything?"

I paused before answering. "Not very good."

I then proceeded to tell him all of my woes from the past few months. I told him about how parts of the prophecy were completed, and other parts were not, and that I was getting frustrated with the length of this quest. I told him about how I feared that I would die and never get the happy ending I deserved. I told him about Fred, I told him about Draco, I told him about Nico's visit and I updated him on everything, and he listened to me and didn't interrupt.

I then told him about what I had learned from Lucius Malfoy today. I started crying, and he didn't say anything or look at me with pity. He gave me the comforting look that was just so Chiron, and I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders.

"And that's not to say that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me Chiron— you've been the closest thing to a dad that I've ever had, but I just think of what could have been," I sniffed and wiped my eyes. "He had a part in depriving me of a relationship with my father. Perhaps if he told the truth things would have been different... but they're not. And that's something that I'll have to grapple with."

"Adele, I do wish you had more time with your father. It's unfair that there's other Campers who got to spend time with their mortal parent while you did not. I wish I could tell you the story of your first words, or your first steps... but I can tell you how brave you are, and how brave you've always been. This Lucius Malfoy character is just another hurdle that you face, and I hope that the battles you face after this prophecy are normal ones," Chiron said to me. "I do hope I can meet this Fred."

I smiled. "I hope you can too."

"When— not if— I meet him, I'll be sure to tell him about the time I came across you speaking to a snake when you were three. Conversation went way over my head of course, but you eventually told me you and Mr. Snake, as you called him, were going to have a tea party. You were so upset when he slithered away before you could get a cup for him," Chiron reminisced with a smile.

I frowned. "I spoke to a snake?"

"Hissing, yes. You did that quite often as a young child, not that you'd remember it. I believe they call the language—"

"Parseltongue," I said with a frown. "That doesn't make sense, how could I have ever spoken to snakes? I haven't... I haven't come across one in years, I suppose, but..."

"Adele, I wouldn't worry about it. One of your mother's animals is a serpent, so it would make sense as to why you could converse with them. Parselmouths are found in the Wizarding World, though it is a rare and dormant trait, so it would make sense that your mother being who she is would amplify that trait."

I furrowed my eyebrows. In the Wizarding World, being able to speak to snakes was seen as something dark. I'm positive that the association with dark magic and being a Parseltongue was a result of negative stereotypes against Slytherins. It seemed silly to think that speaking to snakes was evil. Part of me wondered if those who could speak to snakes were blessed by Athena herself, but I quickly was able to answer that question for myself. Lord Voldemort was a Parseltongue, and I knew for a fact that my mother never blessed him.

"Adele, don't stress over it. Think of it as a gift. Now, I must get going, it is nearly time for lunch here. If things to get tough, don't hesitate to call or write me a letter. I'll always be here for you Adele," Chiron told me seriously.

I smiled in return. "I know, Chiron. And thank you. Oh, one last thing— next time you see Nico, could you tell him that he's a Corn Cob? Tell him that Bird Brain said it, he'll get mad and it'll be funny."

Chiron chuckled. "Will do."

"Thanks."

I ran my hand through the mist and got back up onto my feet, feeling considerably lighter than I did before.

I strolled back to the Burrow at a slow pace despite the fact that it was raining. My shoes squished in the mud as I walked through the grass, and my socks were damp. My hoodie was soaked at this point and so was my hair, so having the hood up really didn't really make a difference at this point.

After about 20 minutes of an unusually slow walk, I finally made it to the back door. I walked in and slipped off my shoes and put them on the mat next to the door so I didn't get mud all over the floor.

I stood there for a moment, staring at nothing. I probably looked like a drowned rat— or at least a rat that had been stuck in a rainstorm for way too long— but I didn't care. At least a million thoughts were racing through my mind, most of them unrelated to each other. I thought about how lucky Percy was to have the ability to not get wet. The notion of purposely seeking out a snake to talk to it went through my mind, but I didn't feel like doing that. The idea of taking a vacation to some sort of resort after this also flew through my mind. Gods know that I need a vacation.

"Adele, you're all wet!"

I was shaken out of my racing thoughts by the sudden feeling of dryness. Sure enough, Mrs. Weasley had waved her wand and suddenly my clothes were dry. My hair wasn't, but that was okay.

"Thanks," I told her. "Sorry I was gone so long, I just needed a break. I talked to Chiron— you know, the centaur that basically raised me— through an I-Message, and it must have been longer than I thought it was."

Before she could respond, Mr. Weasley piped up from the kitchen table. He quickly put down his edition of the Evening Prophet and his ears visibly perked up at the mention of the term I-Message.

"I-Message? Is that some Muggle term? Please, tell me more!"

I smiled genuinely at him and took a seat opposite of him, glancing at the front page of the paper. It was nothing interesting, just some sort of announcement of a campaign.

"Well, an I-Message—"

I was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and voices that were discussing the events of the past few weeks. Charlie came into view, and he was in a discussion with Bill and Fleur.

"Hello Adele, how are you? This weather we are having is awful," Fleur said to me, her s's and t's occasionally sounding like z's.

I shrugged. "I've been okay. I agree with you on the weather though— I wish it would just warm up and stay that way."

"I'm ready for summer, that is for sure," Fleur agreed.

She then mentioned to me how she and Bill had recently visited her family in France and told me about how Bill took her to the top of the Eiffel Tower and they had a nice dinner there. Now, I wasn't the most romantic person in the world, but even I had to agree with the fact that it was a romantic dinner. I proceeded to ask her about the Wizarding community in France, and we were having a good conversation about it.

We were interrupted by a light tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Harry and Ron standing side-by-side. Ron held out my wand.

"Thanks," I mumbled, still a little embarrassed that they had to confiscate my wand from me.

"Why'd they have your wand?" Charlie asked aloud.

I couldn't decide how I felt about Charlie Weasley yet. On one hand, he was a Weasley, so that automatically gave him points, but on the other hand, he was incredibly nosey and talked down to me the one time I've met him so far. Granted, I was acting like I didn't know what he was talking about on purpose, but his tone still bothered me.

Everybody turned to look at me. "Because I lunged at Lucius Malfoy while I interviewed him," I sheepishly said.

"Do you promise me you won't hex him when you go back?" Ron asked me.

I snorted. "We have all we need from him. The next time I'll see him is at the trial, and then he can rot in Azkaban for the rest of his stupid life."

"Okay, promise me you won't hex him or do anything violent to him while he's on the stand," Ron amended his statement.

"I promise," I sadly said.

Arthur gave me an impressed look; anyone who wanted to lunge at Lucius Malfoy was a great person his book. Charlie looked at me with bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, how am I supposed to believe that you lunged at Lucius Malfoy? There's guards there to prevent that, and even then, he's way taller and bigger than you," Charlie said in disbelief.

"Funny that, Harry and I were the guards that did prevent that," Ron deadpanned. Harry's mouth upturned in a chuckle at that statement.

"Okay, even still—"

I rolled my eyes and glared at Charlie, who sat down at the other end of the table. Molly and Fleur gave him a disapproving look.

"I might be small, but that doesn't mean I can't throw a good punch. My size doesn't make me weak, and nor does the fact that I'm a woman. I'd like to see you try to fight a hydra without magic and come out in one piece," I said. "Oh wait, you can't, because they're not real, are they?" I mocked.

"I don't understand why you think drakons are real," he condescended.

"Because they are. Look, I'm not going to argue with you. Anybody who speaks to me like I'm a pre-schooler isn't worth my time. And for your information, the reason I lunged at Malfoy today was because he admitted that he told investigators that Black was at Death Eater meetings, but he failed to mention that it was Regulus that he saw. That man ruined my father's life and my life, so forgive me if small little Adele Black gets upset," I exclaimed, unusually calm.

A solemn look came across Charlie's face. "I'm sorry, Adele, I wasn't aware that I was being condescending. It was also wrong of me to judge you based on your size— I mean, Ginny's small but she can cast a mean hex. Can we start over?"

I pondered my response before nodding. He apologized and admitted that he was wrong, which took a lot of guts.

"Alright then, hi, I'm Charlie Weasley, I don't think we've met."

"Hello, Charlie. I'm Adele Black, and my father is Sirius Black and my mother is the Greek goddess Athena."

The shock on his face as soon as I mentioned my mother made me laugh and I knew it would be a story that was told at family gatherings for years to come.