Ebb and Flow

Diagon Alley and Northfield, August 1976

***

"I can only take one more year of coming here," Gran said as they left Gringott's Bank. "My poor nerves."

Althea continued to walk and attempted to tune out her grandmother as she continued to belittle the magical world. How many books do I need, she thought disbelievingly as she read her school list, four books for Potions, three books for Transfiguration, and two books for Herbology...

"Althea Rosemary, really, no wonder magic separated itself," Gran said disapprovingly, as Althea continued to look at her list. "Goblins in a bank, and now, a witch wearing a vulture on a hat?" Gran pointed to the older woman with the vulture hat.

Althea sighed and rolled her eyes. "Gran, just sit in the ice cream parlor, and I'll be back in a little while," she said and forcefully, but politely directed her grandmother into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

"Hurry, I don't want to sit here long. I don't like how that--that wizard is looking at me," Gran said and clutched her purse tighter.

Maybe in one of these books they'll have a potion for old woman, Althea thought as she flipped through an extremely thick Advanced Potions textbook. Why must all of my books be so thick, too, she thought as she struggled to carry all of her books to the counter. Althea, carefully resting her chin on top of the many books for sixth-year, slowly winded her way through the many students and shoppers in Diagon Alley. With a great heave, she dropped the books on the table her grandmother was sitting at--her grandmother still tightly clutching her purse to her chest.

"Are these necessary?" Gran waved her hand at the large stack of textbooks.

With her hand, Althea brushed loose strands of hair away from her face. "I asked myself the same thing," she said, eyeing the books. "I have one more thing to buy--a present for Jane. Her birthday's at the end of the month."

"Fine, go," Gran said, rolling her eyes. "Leave your Gran with these people."

"I knew you'd understand," Althea quipped and smiled.

These people, Althea thought as she entered Flourish and Blott's. They're more interesting than those people you'd like me to associate with. Ever since Althea's return for the summer holiday, her grandmother had exhausted every effort of introducing her granddaughter to nice Muggles. Nice Muggles were wealthy, had at least one hyphen in their surnames, enjoyed polo, did not do anything useful in their lives, refused to believe in the existence of magic, and were incredibly dull. Their greatest ambitions in life were to marry well, to know the right people (the right people being wealthy and titled), and to have their faces in every glossy society magazine. Sadly, they aren't much different than some witches I know, she thought, eyeing Sirius's cousin Narcissa on the arm of Lucius Malfoy. I wish Sophie wasn't away for the summer. She despises all of this too.

Althea scanned the bookstore as she entered in an attempt to remember where she spotted Jane's gift. In the third aisle she searched, she found Jane's gift--Ophelia Drowning: A Tale of Muggle Love and Woe. Althea giggled as she read the back cover. Muggles do not act like this, she thought as she flipped through the book's pages. Chasing a house-elf with an ax? Rubbish, indeed. The books, written by Aphrodite Collins, had become a joke to the girls, and while Lily and Althea read them for a laugh, Jane read them as Gospel. Jane eagerly awaited each installment of what Althea could best term as sympathetic Muggle propaganda. The Muggle heroines were depicted as pure creations of nature, corrupted by the dubious and villainous wizard, until the noble and pure of heart wizard saved her. According to the author's biography, Ms. Collins had done extensive research of Muggles for each book; however, Muggles did not own house-elves nor did they use something called a "taperider." Althea regretfully handed the woman a Galleon--believing the book should really have been worth no more than seven Knuts--and exited the bookstore. I hope no one catches me holding this book in my hand, she thought as she walked along the edge of the crowded street. It could be very embarrassing.... I really do not understand how she is so popular.

"So you're the one," Althea heard a woman say behind her.

The voice was cold, and the words seemed to snake into Althea's ears. Confused, Althea stopped and was unsure the voice was directed to her. She slowly turned to face the voice. Before her stood a tall middle-aged witch in fine green robes-- her posture was very proud and her long black hair slithered in the slight breeze.

"I've been watching you," the woman said as she walked toward Althea.

Althea looked around for assistance, but the street was busy with witches and wizards too occupied in their shopping. Who is this woman, she thought as she continued to look around the street. To her right, Althea spotted Sirius's brother, Regulus, who nervously covered his face with a book--either too scared to watch the scene unfold, or sheepishly endeavoring to hide his black eye and swollen lip.

Bugger all, she thought, it's Sirius's mother.

"Do you know who I am?"

Althea nodded her head. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Black," she said politely, and refused to show any sign of the uneasiness she experienced. "How do you do?"

Mrs. Black's lips tightened--obviously irritated that Althea would dare to speak in her presence. "Althea Morrigan, is it?" Her eyes dissected Althea.

Althea took in a deep breath of air. "Yes, ma'am," she replied as she exhaled.

Mrs. Black raised an eyebrow. "Morrigan..." she said and her face contorted as if she had tasted something unpleasant. "It is not a Wizarding family name, is it?"

Althea did not respond.

"Embarrassingly Muggle," she sneered as the shoppers continued to pass. "You will be starting your sixth-year?"

Althea nodded.

Mrs. Black nodded in mocked sympathy. "How your parents desperately wanted you accepted into the folds of Wizarding society. Very difficult for your sort in our world...especially when you are most unwelcome."

Althea remained quiet. What does she want, she wondered, tightening her grip on Jane's present. Why speak to me? She felt sick to her stomach. Sirius didn't tell her about us, did he? Mrs. Black gracefully strode toward Althea, raised her thin hand to Althea's face, and tightly grasped her chin. She narrowed her eyes while she closely examined Althea's face.

"So, this is the face," she whispered as she slowly turned Althea's face from side to side. "By no means a rare beauty--no--quite common, in fact." She released Althea's chin from her hand.

Althea stepped back and rubbed her sore chin. "May I ask--"

"Don't speak, half-blood," she said, holding up her hand.

How dare she speak to me like that, she thought, narrowing her eyes. I'm not human to her.

"May I ask what the purpose of this conversation is?"

Mrs. Black inhaled sharply. "You and your filth have corrupted my son," she said and held up her hand, beckoning Regulus to her.

Regulus dutifully, but warily walked to his mother's side. He did his best not to look at Althea--he looked at the ground, his hands, or the other shoppers. However, ever so often, Althea would catch him glancing at her and then quickly diverting his eyes elsewhere. I didn't know I was shameful to look at, she thought as she looked from Regulus, and then to Mrs. Black.

"Regulus, look," she said and pushed her son closer to Althea. "Never follow carnal urges over familial obligations. She will ruin you."

Regulus timidly looked at Althea. Oh, dear God, she thinks I'm dating him!

"Ma'am, I'm not dating him," she said and nodded toward Regulus.

"I know that, you stupid girl!" she chided and pushed Regulus out of the way. "You are a greedy, half-blooded guttersnipe--"

"I don't need your Galleons, Mrs. Black," Althea said, digging her nails into the book jacket. "Now, I really must--"

"I'm not about to let you leave," she said, stepping in front of Althea as she attempted to pass. "That blood traitor's grandfather said it was a phase, but you're not a phase, are you? "

Althea was silent.

"No," she continued and stared darkly into Althea's eyes, "because phases end."

Althea did not blink, but resolutely stared into Mrs. Black's eyes.

"This is not the time in our world to be engaged in such frivolous relationships," she said and unclasped her purse. "Such relationships could have--I dare say it--dire consequences. It is very important that we must stay with our own kind." She lifted a small, plush, purple drawstring bag from her purse. "Here," she said and placed the soft bag into Althea's hand. "You do understand what I am asking you to do?"

Disgusted, Althea dropped the bag and heard a muffled clink when it hit the street. "I believe you've confused me with some Ministry Official," she replied and Mrs. Black's face whitened with fury. "I do not want, nor do I need, your money--"

Mrs. Black's eyes widened and she slapped Althea across the cheek. "How dare you defile our noble family!"

Shocked, Althea staggered backward and gingerly placed her hand on her cheek; her cheek was warm and stung from the slap. "Noble," she muttered as she rubbed her cheek.

There is nothing noble about her, she thought as she continued to nurse her cheek.

Mrs. Black grabbed Althea's wrists and held them painfully tight. "I really do have your best interest at heart," she seethed as she squeezed Althea's wrists.

I wonder if she has a heart, Althea thought as she attempted to wiggle her wrists free.

"Let me go!" Althea managed to free one of her wrists from Mrs. Black's boney grip.

"You've made a grave mistake, foolish girl," she said waspishly and threw down Althea's other wrist. "You're never welcome here, Muckblood."

"Apologize to my granddaughter," Gran demanded from behind Althea.

For the first time, Althea was pleased to see her grandmother. As Gran gracefully walked to her side, Althea experienced a sudden surge of confidence and pride. Gran proudly stood and looked at Mrs. Black with the utmost scorn.

"How dare you talk to me? Do you know who I am?" Mrs. Black proudly folded her arms.

"No," Gran responded coolly. "Should I know you?"

Oh God, Gran, just shut it and let's leave, she thought as she massaged her wrists. Althea was sure Mrs. Black's temper matched her Gran's, and any fight would end up on the front page of the Daily Prophet. 'Muggle Society Matron Slaps Wizard Society Matron--Fight Ensues, Diagon Alley Evacuated,' she thought, tenderly rubbing her forehead.

Mrs. Black's lips whitened and her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides. "Walburga Black, Muggle."

For a moment, Gran's resolute facial expression faltered. "I don't care who you are, you never speak to my granddaughter in that manner," Gran said--her eyes narrowing.

"And who are you to speak to me?" Mrs. Black asked, narrowing her eyes. "Such the brave Muggle you are."

"I am Agnes Rynne Morrigan," Gran replied, resting her hand on Althea's back. "Come, Althea Rosemary, let us leave," she added and squeezed Althea's shoulder.

Mrs. Black's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Blood traitor," she said, looking into Gran's eyes. "How...befitting," she continued, walking closer to Gran.

Confused, Althea looked to her grandmother. Gran's jaw tightened. Blood traitor, she thought, furrowing her eyebrows. She must be mistaken. Gran can't be...she isn't a witch. Gran opened her purse and slipped her hand inside.

"Let's hope it doesn't have the same nasty, lonely end," she said, looking from Althea to Gran. "I'll tell him that you said, 'hello.'"

"Absolute nonsense!"

"Nonsense?" Mrs. Black repeated and started to laugh.

"Come, Althea Rosemary, we're leaving," she said abruptly and grabbed Althea's hand.

Althea did not dare look back at Mrs. Black, who continued to laugh in the middle of the street. Instead, she was transfixed on her grandmother. What did it mean? She must've confused Gran with another woman, she thought as Gran's eyes did not waver to look at Althea.

***

For once, Althea was happy to see the large, ominous manor house. She dropped her books with the staff and started to climb the staircase that led to the upper floors and her bedroom. She wanted to forget what Mrs. Black had said to her, or rather, threatened to her. It must have been awful for him, she thought as she ascended the stairs. I wonder how she discovered the truth. Sirius kept it a secret from his family, as well. He couldn't possibly have told them, could he?

"Althea Rosemary, stay here," Gran said. "I want to speak with you."

Althea sighed disappointedly and closed her eyes. Opening her eyes, she slowly turned and begrudgingly walked down the stairs. Gran motioned with her hand for Althea to enter the front drawing room. Althea sat on a very uncomfortable antique couch, and Gran sat across from her. For a few moments, the two sat in silence--Althea looked at her skirt, then at the floral pattern of the couch, and then at the large portrait over the marble fireplace. She always loved Uncle George best, she thought, looking from the large portrait of her uncle to her grandmother.

"Althea Rosemary," Gran said and folded her hands in her lap, "do you know that woman?"

Her stomach flipped. "No," she replied uneasily and shifted in her seat.

"Then, why would she accost you in the street?" Gran asked, looking into Althea's eyes.

Althea gulped a large amount of air, and closed her eyes. "I'm dating her son," she said barely audible.

Althea waited for a moment before she opened her eyes.

"I am very disappointed in you, Althea Rosemary," Gran said, frowning severely. "I want you to stay away from that family. The Black family is full of dark wizards. They are not the type you--a young girl of your station and breeding--should associate with."

Althea listened to her grandmother's words, but something strange in her words startled Althea. "Gran, how would you know about the Black family?"

Gran did not respond.

"Gran, how would you know about the Black family?" she repeated, a little louder due to irritation. "Gran?"

Gran sighed and stood from her seat--she did not look at Althea. "Althea Rosemary, come with me."

Althea stood and followed her grandmother up the stairs that led to Gran's quarters. Gran opened the door to her bedroom and Althea entered after her. What is Gran doing? Why wouldn't she answer my question, she thought as she walked toward her grandmother's large four-post bed.

"Sit there," Gran said, pointing to the edge of her bed.

Althea sat on the uncomfortably firm bed and Gran disappeared into the closet. What the bollocks is going on, she wondered and looked up toward the ceiling. Mrs. Black accosts me in the street, mentions that Gran is a blood traitor, and Gran doesn't want me to associate with Sirius because he comes from a family of dark wizards...how would Gran know? Soon, Gran returned with a large wooden trunk that she pulled behind her. Althea stood to help her grandmother, but Gran forced her to sit down. Gran placed the trunk in front of Althea and sat next to her.

Gran folded her arms. "Open it."

Althea knelt next to the trunk. With both hands, she unlatched the trunk, pushed the heavy top off, and placed the top to the side of the trunk. Inside, was a large, neatly folded, cream-colored cloth. Althea looked at Gran, and she nodded for her to open it. Carefully, she pulled the cloth out of the trunk and unfolded it on top of the bed. This was not an ordinary cloth--but a tapestry--that expanded across Gran's bed, and if Althea had opened it fully, it would have fallen to the floor and covered a third of the room. Emblazoned with scarlet thread were the words:

The Ancient House of Rynne

Cuimhnich air na daoine o'n d'thàinig thu.

Althea glanced toward the bottom and saw her own name.

"Gran, what is this?" Althea asked, and pointed to the heading of the tapestry.

"'Remember the people from whom you came,'" Gran said quietly, as she ran her fingers along the scarlet threads. "The Rynne family began with two Muggle-borns," she explained and pointed to the top of the tapestry. "Almost eight hundred years ago."

"Muggle-borns? Gran," Althea said breathlessly--her breathing sharp and shallow.

"Like you, I am a witch."

"Oh, bollocks!" she breathed as she read Gran's name on the tapestry--Agnes Rosemary Rynne.

"Althea Rosemary!"

Althea stood and started to pace around the room. Her mind grew dizzy and she felt the blood drain from her face. Althea felt as if she was eleven and her father was telling her of the existence of magic for the first time. A witch, she thought as she turned and continued to pace. My Gran is a witch. She hated me for being a witch, and she is one herself! I do not understand this!

"Althea Rosemary, sit down," she demanded, and placed her hand on the spot of the bed next to her.

Althea shook her head. "No--no, I can't. You're a witch? Oh, I don't believe this!" She threw her hands up into the air. She ran her fingers through the top of her hair. Frustrated, she forcefully pulled at her hair, hurting her scalp. "You treated daddy as if he were a mistake! Daddy hated it here...and I hate it here!"

"Althea Rosemary, let me explain," she pleaded as she stood. She rested her hands on Althea's upper arms, but Althea refused to look at her. "Please, let me explain," she pleaded softly and led Althea over to the bed.

"Please, explain," she said and folded her arms. "I'd love to know how Mrs. Black knew you were a witch and your own granddaughter didn't!"

"Quiet!" Gran scolded and looked at the trunk on the floor. Gran sighed heavily. "You are too young...just too young."

"Too young?"

Gran nodded--still looking at the trunk. "You are never to speak of this, Althea Rosemary."

Althea did not take her scrutinizing eyes off her grandmother.

"Everything I've done," she began and furrowed her eyebrows, "I've done to protect you...to protect Danny and George. You have no idea of the evil that is out there, Althea Rosemary...no idea."

"I--"

Gran held up her hand for Althea to quiet. "I was seventeen when I met him," she said, her hands trembled slightly. "I was foolish to believe that I was in love...that nothing else mattered. Nevertheless, there were things that did matter, but I was too blinded to see them.... We did not move in the same circles. It was by the strangest of events that I did meet him...we thought it was fate." She looked up from the trunk on the floor to Althea. "Our families discovered and did not approve of the match. My family believed that his family had acquired their wealth and position in Wizarding society by means of the Dark Arts...it just wasn't done. His family considered the Rynnes to be blood traitors, and I believe you know what that means?"

"Yes," she murmured, her eyes transfixed on Gran. "They were Dark, then?"

"Not all families that believed in blood purity were Dark, Althea Rosemary. It was a social taboo for the oldest families to retain their Muggle-born heritages. To them, wizards always were and will always be," she said and unfolded her hands.

"But your family--"

"Our family," Gran corrected. "Indeed, but for all our eccentricities, we were a highly respected clan.... However, we were young and social taboos meant nothing to us. We were desperately in love."

Althea frowned at Gran's revelation. She could never imagine Gran desperately in love.

"I believed he was different--like you believe that boy is different--but I was wrong. He wasn't different." She sighed sadly. "They never are different, Althea Rosemary. I want you to learn from my terrible mistake," she said and took Althea's hands in hers. "He betrayed me. He chose his family and I lost everything."

"Terrible," Althea murmured.

Gran looked into Althea's eyes. "I want you to stop seeing that boy."

"His name is Sirius, Gran," Althea said and retracted her hands. "He isn't like them."

Gran knowingly shook her head. "I saw it in his eyes, Althea--"

"That wasn't Sirius in Diagon Alley today. It was Regulus, his younger brother."

"It does not matter," Gran replied. "Nothing good came from the Black family."

Althea sat up straighter. "He's not like them--"

"Don't be so sure."

"He's the first in his family not to be sorted into Slytherin," she said defiantly. "He's in Gryffindor."

"That doesn't matter," she replied, waving her hand in dismissal of Althea's defense. "He's no good. It is in his blood, Althea Rosemary. No matter how much he tries to suppress it...evil courses through his veins."

"In his blood?" she repeated and raised an eyebrow.

"You have no idea what he is capable of--what that family is capable of," Gran said and shook her head. "The children are immersed in the Dark Arts as soon as they show magical abilities. Indoctrinated in the Dark Arts and only caring for themselves--"

"He saved my life!" Althea, wide-eyed, covered her mouth.

Gran's face paled. "Althea Rosemary, how could you?"

"Well, I didn't really have a say in it, did I?" she scoffed and folded her arms. "We weren't dating at the time, either. He's immensely loyal to his friends--"

"And those that aren't his friends?"

Althea frowned. "He saved my life, Gran."

Gran placed her hands on Althea's shoulders. "And now, you're in his debt," she said ruefully, "forever. He will use it against you--"

Althea knocked her grandmother's hands away. "He loves me! He would never do that!"

"You're only a child!"

Althea stood from the bed. "I am not a child!" she shouted and stomped her foot against the floor. "You're just like his mother!"

Gran went to stand, but thought better of it. "Never call me that again."

"The only things separating the two of you are blood purity and the Dark Arts," she said and smoothed the hair away from her face. "He despises the Dark Arts and blood purity. He can't wait to be rid of his family."

For the first time, she saw fear on her grandmother's face. Althea took a step back.

"He can't leave his family," she said knowingly. "It's impossible."

"No, it's--"

"Yes, it is," Gran said, leaning forward. "There are powerful Dark Magic spells, and I do not doubt they have used them...spells with horrific consequences. If he attempts to leave," she said--she stood and grabbed Althea's arms, "you must put an end to this relationship."

"What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not wrong!" she said and shook Althea. "Horrible things would happen!"

Althea saw the panicked look in her grandmother's eyes. "What would happen?" she asked--her stomach nauseous.

Gran remained quiet, but in that moment, Althea knew the consequence.

"I would die."