Chapter 298: The Choice of a Future Partner
Phineas smiled and said,
"Although I don't know who spread the rumor, it does exist—there is a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. I want this box to remove it. What I'm more curious about is who plans to take over the Chamber."
Damon immediately understood what Phineas meant and said,
"I'll keep an eye on what's happening at Hogwarts."
But Phineas waved his hand and denied that suggestion.
"No, your job is to look after the manor. Oh, and remember to feed Basque regularly. Don't look directly into the Basilisk's eyes. As for Hogwarts, I have other plans."
Damon fell silent, realizing Phineas had made other arrangements.
"So, Master, what will you do during this time?" Damon asked, recalling that Phineas had said he would disappear from the wizarding world for a while, both to lure out dark forces and identify who held ill intent.
Phineas grinned.
"Let's head to Greece. Lisa uncovered some clues earlier—there's talk that Herpo may have left something behind there. It's a good opportunity to investigate and grow stronger."
He paused.
"By the way, I recall we have a base in Diagon Alley. Which store is it?"
Damon was momentarily stunned. Did Phineas not know where their strongholds were? Was this a test? But that didn't seem like him.
Phineas chuckled, noticing Damon's hesitation.
"Lisa used to handle these things, and I've always been too lazy to read the reports. It's easier to ask you."
Damon nodded.
"The Black family has several businesses in Diagon Alley, but most are too public. Our base is the Vanilla Café at No. 94. There's a private room set aside for you—only our people access it, disguised as café staff."
Phineas tried to recall number 94. Nothing stood out, though he did remember number 93 next door. That property—soon to become Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes—was still owned by the Black family.
As for the Vanilla Café, he had visited a few times for their ice cream but lost interest. Who knew it was his?
Seeing Phineas's surprise, Damon explained,
"According to Lisa's notes, the café was always yours, though it hadn't officially opened. The Silver Moon Potion Shop used to be our main base, but after it was attacked, the café was activated as a replacement."
Phineas nodded thoughtfully and whistled.
A white shape swooped from above and landed gracefully beside him—the Hairy-legged Fish Owl, larger than most and unmistakably Popsicle, the owl he'd bought while on the run in the former Soviet Union during his first year.
With a flick of his finger, the quill nearby floated into the inkwell and began writing on its own.
"Damon," Phineas asked, "Do we have a base in Greece? Preferably a hotel or something inconspicuous."
Damon pondered, then rose and scanned the nearby bookshelf. He returned with a heavy leather-bound notebook marked "Greece."
After flipping through it, he reported,
"Most of our locations in Greece are Black-owned shops. We do have a few taverns used for information gathering."
He copied details onto a parchment and handed it to Phineas.
"These are our taverns in Greece. If you want to remain hidden, just show your Black family ring."
Phineas nodded. His top lieutenants bore such rings, bound to them magically. All true Black family members had one, though the ring was removed upon marriage or expulsion from the family.
His own ring had recently been fused with the Ravenclaw family ring, based on notes Nicolas left him. Now, it bore the Black crest in the center and the emblems of all four Hogwarts Houses around it. The magical properties hadn't changed—it still served as a spellcasting and wand-storage device and carried three powerful protective charms, effective against all but the Killing Curse.
By now, the quill had finished writing the letter. Phineas sealed it and tied it to Popsicle's leg.
"To Astoria Greengrass," he said softly.
The owl hooted and flew off.
Afterward, Phineas turned to Damon.
"While I'm gone, assign a few people to guard the Greengrass family."
Damon nodded, puzzled.
"Master, the second young lady of the Greengrass family is...?"
Phineas anticipated the question and nodded.
"Though the Black family has declined—just Sirius and me remain—our family elders still insist partners come from pure-blood lineages. Among the pure-blood girls of similar age, only two stand out to me: Ginny Weasley and Astoria Greengrass."
Damon looked conflicted.
"Out with it," Phineas said.
"But what about Miss Silna Selwyn?"
Phineas paused. He'd nearly forgotten her.
Silna Selwyn, the youngest daughter of the Selwyn family's main branch, had suffered a magical outburst at age nine and was nearly mistaken for a Squib. Though her family didn't cast her out, Squib children were often sent to live in the Muggle world.
Phineas had met her at a Selwyn gathering when they were nine. She had been sweet and well-mannered—not wild like her brothers.
He shook his head.
"The Selwyns wouldn't agree to it, and neither would the Black elders."
He didn't explain further, but Damon understood. Despite her pedigree, Silna's near-Squib status would be seen as a slight to the Black family. Neither family would approve.
And Phineas himself wasn't interested.
Indeed, he could only obey the elders of the Black family. In other words, if he wished to continue receiving the family's support and privileges, he had no choice but to abide by their rules.
It wasn't that the Black family had never chosen partners who were Muggle-born or half-blood. Phineas's own cousin had done so—but such a decision always resulted in expulsion from the family.
Though Phineas was now incredibly powerful, his status in the wizarding world remained crucial. His identity as the young heir of the Black family granted him access to the Council of Elders and provided vital information and clues on the path to godhood.
Thus, he could not sever ties with the Blacks. Moreover, it was said that a magical contract had been signed within the Black bloodline—one that forbade marriage to Muggles or half-bloods. Those who violated it would supposedly be forever barred from becoming legends. Of course, Phineas wasn't entirely sure whether this was true.
Even within the pure-blood pool, he preferred those he liked and respected.
While taking a mistress—a lover without formal standing—was an option for declining families like his, it was delicate. Wizarding Britain nominally practiced monogamy, influenced by Muggle customs, though it was more about secrecy than belief.
So yes—if he had a lover and his wife didn't object, she could live in the Black household. But that wasn't something Phineas intended lightly.
Back to the current issue: Ginny clearly liked Harry. That ruled her out.
Astoria Greengrass, on the other hand, was a strong candidate—neutral in the past, now aligned with the Black family, and someone Phineas genuinely got along with.
He also suspected Hermione harbored feelings for him. He cared for her too—bright, mature, a little reckless—but her Muggle-born status disqualified her in the eyes of the elders.
Sirius was unlikely to marry, so the role of family head would pass to Phineas in time.
"I understand," Damon said.
"Good," said Phineas. "If any families reach out about marriage, refuse them politely. Even if you can't refuse, don't give them a firm answer. Wait for me to return."
Phineas was fifteen—old enough by pure-blood custom to be engaged. Some families arranged it even earlier.
With his instructions given, he turned and apparated.
The next moment, he appeared in a shadowy corner of Diagon Alley. With a leap, he shrank into a lithe, black kitten with white-tipped paws and striking yellow-blue eyes—his Animagus form.
He moved nimbly through the crowds until he reached the Vanilla Café.
Slipping into the private room Damon had described, Phineas resumed his human form and waited.
Soon, Astoria entered with a letter in hand—Damon's seal affixed.
"Phineas!" she exclaimed with surprise and delight.
Thankfully, the room was soundproof.
"Long time no see, Leah," he said warmly. "Please, sit. The café is mine, and the ice cream is quite good. Come by any time. Oh—this is for you.With it, you can come directly to this room next time you come."
He handed her a silver ring bearing the Black family crest. This wasn't a subordinate's ring—it was one worn by family.
Astoria blushed as she accepted it.