Chapter Text
Severus: Even More a Scoundrel or an Heir?
By Rita Skeeter.
Welcome, dear witches and wizards.
Before we begin, I would like to thank you for purchasing my new book. Yours truly has not had an easy time ever since the new “Minister,” Hermione Granger, started doing whatever she pleases with the press through her latest decrees.
Leaving that woman aside, I would like to welcome you to this circus that we shall call a story, all thanks to the highly questionable actions of our dear friends, the Blacks.
The Blacks, ah… that family.
The very family that left the Daily Prophet without material for its gossip section, which was of the utmost importance, as it satisfied witches and wizards who now, with nothing to entertain themselves, have taken to roaming the streets and sticking their noses where they do not belong, increasing the percentage of busybodies in our magical London.
So take extra precautions, because there are so many of them that even our Minister of Magic is among the nosiest.
And for those poor souls who live under a rock—or are miserable Muggles—I shall take a moment of my time to bring you up to speed and explain who the Blacks are.
The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, one of the most respected and oldest bloodlines in the entire wizarding world. French in origin, they settled in London, aristocrats through and through, blessed with unparalleled beauty, and rose to the very pinnacle of British magical society.
Harry Potter has granted us the honor of stepping into this family’s ancestral home: Number 12, Grimmauld Place, hidden within Muggle London.
It is a marvelous house. Mr. Potter has taken it upon himself to restore it to its former glory, though now free of the darkness that seemed to run through this family’s very blood.
As we climbed the elegant ebony staircase, we entered a room that, incidentally, is larger than my entire house.
One of its walls displayed a magnificent family tree, as twisted as the people hanging from its branches and so vast that one could spend months tracing every generation of this lineage.
The war hero, Mr. Potter, told us with considerable annoyance that despite numerous attempts, he has been unable to remove this mural, which, according to him, represents the horrors we have tried to leave behind: blood supremacy.
Among its branches, we find many important and influential figures in history, such as Phineas Nigellus Black, former Headmaster of Hogwarts and, I might add, not particularly beloved.
But such positions were not gained through merit alone. Since the seventeenth century, the Blacks made it their business to acquire rather dark relics and blackmail their way into one Ministry position after another, becoming ridiculously wealthy in the process.
Unfortunately, maintaining their status and fortune required certain “sacrifices,” the details of which are best left unspoken. Behind closed doors, they committed horrors against members of their own family in the name of discipline.
Who would have thought that the very ideology that brought them power would ultimately lead to their downfall and disgrace?
We all know how this family ended: with two convicted criminals now dead and most of its Death Eater members likely having perished in the war, seemingly bringing an end to the bloodline.
But is that truly the whole story?
As it turns out, dear reader, Harry Potter could no longer bear to keep this monumental secret to himself.
The Boy Who Lived—though hardly a boy anymore—has spoken. He wishes to share “the truth” about his godfather, Sirius Black.
Harry has done it again. Just a few months ago, he defended former Headmaster Severus Snape tooth and nail, transforming him from one of the most hated wizards in history into a tragic martyr whom every witch would gladly comfort in her arms.
I invite you to read the biography I wrote, available in every bookshop across the United Kingdom: Snape: Scoundrel or Saint?
Yet it seems the tale of the tragic prince that Mr. Potter shared with us was incomplete.
While standing in that room, I noticed that one branch of the family tree remained concealed beneath a piece of cloth.
Harry pulled it away.
Prepare yourself and sit down firmly, because attached to the branch belonging to Sirius Black was none other than Mr. Snape himself.
Assuming, of course, that we can still use his maiden name.
Because listen closely.
He was secretly married to the last two heirs of the House of Black.
Yes, you heard that correctly.
Apparently, “Severus Black” liked to keep family matters strictly within the family. Who would have imagined such things from the stern Potions Master?
Could this be the true reason behind the tragic downfall of the Blacks?
Or was this family already doomed the moment they decided that inbreeding was a splendid idea?
Well, dear reader, I, Rita Skeeter, have worked tirelessly gathering information, and I am pleased to say that what I have uncovered is more valuable than the Philosopher’s Stone itself.
For I shall now proceed to tell you exactly what happened.
I have obtained memories, and what I witnessed within the Pensieve will quite literally make you fall out of your chair.