Arcturus Black was sitting in his study at Grimmauld Place with a tired and exhausted face. On the table in front of him, many parchments were scattered in an untidy manner. An Arcturus Black, who was a very organized man, table in such a disorganized state was one of the rarest sights one could see in a lifetime.
An empty bottle of firewhisky also lay toppled on the desk, while Arcturus was holding a silver goblet in his hand into which the last drop of alcohol had already been poured. The study was barely illuminated, with only a single magical torch burning in the corner of the room. The atmosphere inside the room resonated with Arcturus' gloomy and depressive mood. The air itself felt still and oppressive.
Yet, Arcturus' mind was barely focused on his surroundings. He was nearly drunk. He had, after all, emptied an entire bottle of firewhisky in less than half an hour, and that was not counting all the alcohol he had consumed throughout the day.
It had been years, perhaps not since his youth, that Arcturus had drunk so much. Yet, even though he was intoxicated and his body was tipsy, his mind had not dulled.
It was as sharp as ever, focused, and constantly replaying the events that had transpired and happened.
It had been a tiring day for Arcturus. Since early morning, he had held continuous rounds of meetings with many people. His friends, his allies, and families who were dependent upon and subservient to the Black Family. He had met all of them, held one to one meetings or in groups.
Every one of them was anxious and nervous about what the future held. The uncertainty of the upcoming times and what had unfolded was almost killing them.
A Lord of Wizengamot had been killed, and the magical prowess Voldemort had displayed made it obvious that, apart from a select few, no one would be able to exchange even a few spells with the Dark Lord.
The only breathing space the faction led by Arcturus Black enjoyed was that, unlike families such as the Bones family or even the Potter family who had been directly opposing the Death Eaters, this faction had maintained a more of a neutral stance.
Even though Arcturus personally hated Voldemort, neither he nor his faction had taken a direct stance against the Dark Lord in public. The vote he had cast in favour of Antonio when he killed the Death Eaters was the only time when he had directly or indirectly taken a stance against them.
It was not as if this neutrality had been his own preference. He had maintained that stance at the behest of the members of his faction. Now, it truly seemed that this had been the correct choice.
Not that their neutrality could be maintained for much longer. After what had happened in the Wizengamot, it was certain that Wizarding Britain was going to be torn in two.
Leading one side would be Albus Dumbledore and, most likely, Lord Antonio Olario. He had shown enough power that no one could doubt his qualifications. Leading the other would be none other than the Dark Lord. Everyone would soon be forced to choose a side.
But the scenarios flashing through Arcturus Black's mind provided him with no comfort or relief. Why? Because he had failed to take a stand when the Dark Lord attacked the Wizengamot.
He did not know what was going through Antonio's mind right now, but he would not be surprised if Antonio was deeply resentful toward a few people, especially those he might have considered allies. Though their friendship was not yet deep, a genuine relationship had developed between the two. Frankly, Arcturus would admit that he was very much desirous of seeing Lord Olario as his grandson-in-law.
But having been a mute spectator to everything that happened in the Wizengamot might have damaged his relationship with Antonio. He did not know if Antonio had been expecting more people to move to his side, but Arcturus knew that every norm and sense of morality demanded he should have raised his wand, at least against the Death Eaters if not directly against the Dark Lord.
When the Dark Lord had been formulating his rune, a spell from the side could have killed a couple of Death Eaters, reducing Voldemort's power.
Yet, neither the Lords nor even the Aurors had moved. Arcturus would not say that he was terrified or afraid to go against the Dark Lord. Perhaps, if he could relive those moments, he would jump in to support Lord Olario without hesitation.
It was simply that he had been too surprised, too shocked to think rationally. At that moment, he had lost his decision-making ability and had become part of the herd.
Now, it seemed to him that this lapse might have caused irreversible damage to his connection with Antonio. Furthermore, his relationship with Albus Dumbledore was already deeply strained. Arcturus was the face of the Conservative faction, while Dumbledore was the White Lord. Now, the situation seemed bleak for Arcturus Black.
The only hope he could think of now, and he would appear as a cunning, perhaps even cold-hearted and a greedy politician because of this, was his granddaughter, Bellatrix.
She enjoyed a deeper relationship with Antonio, and the bond between them was strong. He would not hesitate to admit and he himself believed wholeheartedly that the relationship between them was something more than only friendship.
She had been at the hospital constantly, remaining by his side, and this was the only glimmer of hope Arcturus could see. He could only hope to lean on Bellatrix's connection with Antonio to navigate these treacherous times.
He was just contemplating this hope when a knock sounded on the door of his study.
"Grandfather," Bellatrix's voice called out. "It is me."
Arcturus sighed and took a deep breath.
"Come in," he said, his voice echoing through the dimly lit room.
The door was pushed open, and Bellatrix entered.
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