Ink, Laughter, and the First Crack
THE DAILY PROPHET
Front Page – Bold Black Ink
HOUSE BLACK REUNITED
ANDROMEDA BLACK REINSTATED
NARCISSA BLACK NAMED TEMPORARY HEAD OF HOUSE BLACK
The article spread through wizarding Britain like wildfire.
Ancient families stirred.
Neutral houses recalculated.
Certain names… felt suddenly exposed.
Hogwarts — The Headmaster's Office
Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, half-moon glasses perched low as he read the paper.
Then—
He laughed.
A quiet, genuine sound.
"Well," he murmured, folding the Prophet. "That was faster than I expected."
A portrait to his left stirred.
Cedric Runcandel, robed in old-world finery, leaned forward, eyes sharp.
"Something amusing, Albus?" he asked.
Dumbledore turned the paper so the portraits could see.
Cedric's gaze flicked across the headline—then to another portrait.
"Phineas," Cedric said calmly. "This was Keith's doing, wasn't it?"
Phineas Nigellus Black smirked.
"Yes. Entirely."
He explained—briefly, precisely.
The debt.
The negotiation.
The conditions.
The reinstatement.
Cedric listened in silence.
Then he smiled.
"Ah," he said softly. "So he chose foundation over spectacle."
Phineas nodded approvingly.
Cedric's eyes gleamed.
"House Carrow.
House Flint.
House Nott.
House Malfoy."
He chuckled.
"Their good days are over."
Dumbledore folded his hands.
"Keith always did prefer inevitability to chaos," he said lightly.
Cedric leaned back, clearly pleased.
"He's a genius," Cedric said without hesitation. "And he's only just begun."
The portraits murmured—not fearfully.
But eagerly.
Malfoy Manor — A Dangerous Miscalculation
Lucius Malfoy stood before the fireplace, the Prophet held loosely in his hand.
He read the headline once.
Then scoffed.
"Andromeda Black reinstated," he said dismissively. "Meaningless sentimentality."
Narcissa—temporary head of House Black?
Lucius sneered.
"She was never suited for leadership."
He tossed the paper aside.
"Let them play politics," he muttered. "They're not my equals."
And yet—
A chill crawled up his spine.
A quiet unease he couldn't explain.
The room felt colder.
Lucius frowned slightly, pressing a hand against his chest.
"…Strange," he murmured.
He shook his head.
"Nothing," he said aloud. "Just nerves."
But somewhere deep inside—
Something old and predatory had shifted its gaze toward him.
And Lucius Malfoy didn't even realize—
The hunt had already begun.