"Right then, sweetheart. Today is finally the day you will break your first curse. Up until now you have studied many curses in theory, from simple to fairly complex. I have demonstrated them to you and, using the specialist spectacles, you have been learning to see them and to understand how to unravel them correctly."
"Yes, Mother Bella."
I gave a short nod, and she placed a gold plate in front of me, onto which she immediately applied -- right there before me -- one of the simplest curses in existence. It was not even truly a curse in the full sense of the word; more of a jinx, the essence of which was that whoever touched the gold plate would suffer from diarrhoea.
"Right then. First, tell me about this curse."
"Well..."
I studied the jinx more carefully.
"...you've been a little creative with it. Most likely a personal spell, cast in slight haste. I can see at least five weak points -- applying pressure to any one of them ought to make it fall apart. By the standard classification, this isn't even really a curse; it's more of a jinx. Normally jinxes are placed directly on people, of course, but the modification to affect an object is an interesting one. From what I can read in the lines of the jinx, its essence is that whoever touches the gold plate will suffer from severe diarrhoea -- and from the amount of power you've put into the spell, I'd estimate the victim will be suffering for a minimum of three days."
Bella gave a brief nod.
"Correct so far. What else can you tell me about this curse?"
"It will dissipate on its own in roughly a week. As far as I can tell, this sort of effect could very easily be moved from the category of harmful to the category of medical -- useful for anyone suffering from severe constipation."
"Pff..."
"Don't snort -- you asked me to tell you as much detail as possible. So..."
I examined the jinx's lines once more, carefully.
"I would suggest that a less experienced wizard would simply not have been able to cast this spell -- and that would be the best-case scenario. In the worst case, it would have exploded on the tip of their wand and attached itself to the caster."
"What is the reason for that?"
Bella tilted her head, studying me with interest.
"An imperfect verbal formula and an imperfect wand movement -- as I said, the jinx was most likely created in haste. Which is understandable, really: a perfect curse from you, even the simplest one, would be extraordinarily difficult for me to break. Nearly impossible. You held the jinx together through sheer force of will, not allowing it to deviate from your intent."
"Good. Now tell me about the methods of breaking it."
"Hmm..."
I looked more closely at the jinx on the gold plate.
"...five points -- applying pressure to any of them will simply destroy the jinx. But this method is only applicable when the curse or jinx has been placed on an inanimate object, because the energy release could cause a living person's condition to worsen..."
"I'm glad you understand that. And yes, you are largely right about the way the spell was constructed -- though had I wished to, I could have produced a far more refined spell in the same amount of time. However, many wizards these days have come to prefer quick solutions. That includes curse-breaking, and as long as the object in question is inanimate, things generally turn out fine -- but when it comes to living beings..."
Bella shook her head, clearly disapproving of this approach.
"...and even with inanimate objects..."
"I understand..."
I nodded to show that I did indeed understand precisely what Mother was referring to.
"...if the spell is more powerful than the one you cast, and the energy within it is not neutral -- if it's necrotic, for instance, or elemental -- then breaking such a jinx or curse too rapidly could injure the wizard who performed it."
"Exactly."
She smiled with satisfaction and, stepping around the table, ruffled my hair.
"Now then, sweetheart -- break the curse on the object. Use the gentlest method."
"As you say..."
I nodded, took my wand in hand, and cast several diagnostic spells. Once satisfied that what I had seen through the spectacles was accurate, I began gradually unravelling the jinx from the object. It did not take long, and though this was my first time untangling a spell, I managed it without difficulty.
"Done..."
I gave my wand a theatrical little shake, as though flicking something dirty and unpleasant from its tip, slid it back into the holster at my wrist, and nodded towards the gold plate.
"...the jinx has been lifted."
"Good. I'll verify that now, and if you have indeed done everything correctly, we'll try unravelling something slightly more complex."
With that, Mother began layering one diagnostic weave after another -- but in the end there was nothing she could do but smile with satisfaction and ruffle my hair again with a mother's pride.
"Perfectly done. Let's try something more challenging."
Bella quickly applied a more complex spell to the same gold plate -- still something that could be classed as a jinx, but noticeably more so.
"Well..."
I examined the jinx now on the object.
"...this is still more of a jinx than a true curse, but this time it is considerably more refined. Only two breaking points, the lines are woven far more tightly, and the effect itself is..."
I studied what I could see and cast a few diagnostic spells to confirm my eyes were not deceiving me.
"Er... it makes whoever touches it impotent?"
"Correct. Now break it..."
That same evening.
"Kreacher."
"Kreacher is here, Young Master."
This was the old house-elf who had served the House of Black for a very long time. Unfortunately, the same Dobby who had apparently been such a fine creature from Potter's perspective in canon had to be put down. The reason was that he had come into contact with the diary and had not been strong enough to avoid losing his mind entirely. Kreacher had not escaped the influence on his mind either, but he was stronger, and over the years since they had moved the Horcruxes to a secured vault, he had managed to recover.
"Has Mum Cissy arrived yet?"
"Yes. Mistress Cissy is speaking with Mistress Bella. They are awaiting Young Master Draco in the small dining room."
"Good..."
I stretched, straightened the dressing gown I had been wearing about the room after my bath, and headed downstairs. Of course a couple of years ago such behaviour would have been completely unacceptable to my mothers, and Grandmother Walburga still winced slightly when she saw me like this -- but at least they no longer lectured me about it.
"The Young Master ought not to walk about the house in such a state..."
I stopped, half-turned to look at Kreacher, and raised an eyebrow.
"Do we have guests?"
"No, but Mistress Walburga will be displeased."
"Grandmother..."
I shook my head.
"...she is from a previous generation and does not understand that the future requires bringing something new into one's life. So why not choose, as that something new, to abandon stuffiness -- at least within the family circle? Perhaps it was precisely that stuffiness that drove Sirius out of the house in the first place?"
"Kreacher disagrees, but Kreacher will not argue with the Young Master. The Young Master is very strong and gifted in magic. The Young Master will do everything his own way when he grows up regardless."
"Good, then I'm off. And please make me a coffee with three spoonfuls of sugar and milk."
"Kreacher will do so."
As he said this, Kreacher's expression tightened with faint disapproval, since in his view milk was what one added to tea. Coffee was a noble drink that ought not to be diluted. But I cared very little for that opinion. I did not enjoy the taste of black coffee and therefore preferred it with sugar and milk.
I descended from my room and made my way to the small dining room.
"Mum Cissy, Mum Bella, Grandmother Walburga."
"Grandson, what is this you're wearing?"
Despite the stern tone, I could see that Grandmother had already resigned herself to my appearance and had even come to expect something of the sort.
"Grandmother, I see no sense in putting on formal robes when we are in the family circle -- and if we were expecting guests, you would have had the house-elf tell me so."
I shrugged.
"So I see no reason to demonstrate what a fine, well-bred gentleman I am."
"Grandson..."
"Gran, we've already been over this. Go and tell Dumbledore that his garish robes and his well-known obsession with sweets are unbecoming of a man in his position -- that the Supreme Mugwump ought to dress accordingly..."
Grandmother winced slightly.
"You are not Albus."
"No, but if I spend my time selecting appropriate robes just to have a meal with the family, I'll never become anyone worth mentioning. There won't be any time left for training."
"Mother..."
Cissy placed her hand over Walburga's.
"...it isn't worth it. Draco understands perfectly well who he is and what House he comes from, and at the few events where Bella and I have taken him, he has conducted himself as a perfectly worthy representative of high society."
"I know, I know..."
Grandmother sighed.
"...but you understand that I haven't got so many years left, and..."
"Gran, don't talk nonsense. You'll be around to see great-grandchildren yet..."
"Speaking of great-grandchildren... since you've raised the subject yourself..."
A thoroughly satisfied smile appeared on Grandmother's lips.
"...you are already acquainted with all the most eligible young ladies of British society, so it would be about time to arrange a preliminary betrothal."
"Mother!"
Cissy and Bella rose from the table in perfect unison, palms flat on the surface, leaning slightly towards their mother -- my grandmother.
"Yes, daughters?"
Walburga looked at her girls with a faintly amused expression. In truth they were only her nieces, of course -- but just as with me and Bella, she simply could not bring herself to address them any other way. Neither she nor my mothers would have accepted anything different.
"Are you saying I am wrong?"
"I think..."
Bella was the first to collect herself and slowly sank back into her chair. She looked unnaturally tense as she did so, her already perfect posture growing even more rigid.
"Our family has already been burned by arranged marriages. And I would not want our son to go through what Cissy and I did. Yes..."
She raised a hand, cutting off whatever Grandmother had been about to say.
"...he is the future head of the family, and much of what we endured will never threaten him. But as the examples of Lucius and my late husband and his brother have shown..."
Bella's lips curved into a contemptuous smile as she mentioned the dead men.
"...not even the most ironclad marriage contract will protect a man from an angry and unhappy woman."
"And do you truly believe our grandson would be the same manner of wretch as those men?"
"No..."
It was Mum Cissy who answered Grandmother.
"...our son would never become like them. But as we know very well, a woman can be hurt by any number of things. So dismissing the possibility that a chosen bride might harbour resentment towards Draco would be unwise."
"Very well..."
Walburga exhaled.
"...but I had to raise the matter -- particularly since we have received a proposal from the Greengrasses regarding exactly such a betrothal. They are being rather crafty about it, of course..."
"Ha-ha-ha!"
Cissy laughed at her mother's words.
"What is so amusing?"
"Simply that they are being crafty -- very crafty indeed. I cannot say everything, but what they need from us is a service, free of charge, that only our son can provide."
"A vow?"
Cissy gave only a nod in response to Grandmother's question.
"I see... so they decided to trick us..."
"Grandmother..."
I decided to draw the attention of those present.
"Yes?"
"Why don't we play that card?"
"Play that card?"
"Well yes..."
I nodded, and a scheming smile crept onto my lips.
"...why not agree to the proposal, but on the condition of a full medical examination -- and then, once the truth comes out..."
A gleam of understanding lit up in Grandmother's eyes.
"Wring compensation from them in exchange for our silence!"
"Better still..."
I shook my head.
"Better still?"
"Yes... it's my understanding that one is not permitted to bring one's own house-elves to Hogwarts..."
I watched carefully to see how everyone present would react to my words.
"...but what if the house-elf in question were to be a well-bred young witch who will in any case be attending Hogwarts?"
"The Greengrasses would never give up their daughter as compensation..."
"And who said anything about compensation?"
I allowed myself to interrupt Grandmother.
"Forgive me, Grandmother, for cutting you off -- but I was not suggesting compensation at all. I was simply proposing that we play the card of the aggrieved noble family: one that is prepared to sever all ties with the Greengrasses, thereby denying them even the chance of having the curse broken. Then, in a private conversation, we make it clear that no amount of money will induce us to take on the work. And then... once they have been driven to desperation, we offer them this: that they give us their elder daughter. As a personal attendant. My personal attendant."
"Hmm..."
Both mothers and Grandmother studied me intently.
"...of course I am not particularly well-practised in intrigue, and the way I see the situation may be a touch..."
I made a vague, wavering gesture in the air with my hand.
"...but I think you've grasped my idea and will be able to arrange things so that the Heir of the House of Black ends up with a personal attendant who, while lacking a family name of her own, at least comes from a well-bred background."
"Grandson..."
Walburga examined me carefully, and I raised an eyebrow in question.
"...I am proud of you. Now then, daughters -- how do we go about pulling this off?"
//==============//