"And which do you believe in?" Harry asked carefully.
"What I am more interested in, young Ashworth," the eldest Black said, staring him straight in the eye and, Harry thought irrationally for a moment, straight into the soul, "is just what it is that you believe."
Harry idly toyed with his goblet for a moment, slowly spinning its stem between his fingers and watching the wine slosh around the cup. He was dreadfully aware of everyone's attention on him, and had the sinking feeling that one wrong word would lead him to a heap of trouble. If there was any time to pick his words carefully, this was it. Time to appear smart, he thought to himself. He couldn't reveal how much - or little - he knew, nor would it be a good idea to seem too eager to approve of their ideals in his attempt to get close to Voldemort.
"I believe," Harry began very slowly and very, very carefully, "that the wizarding world, as it stands today, is incapable of survival. I believe that it is in desperate need of reform, of a strong, charismatic leadership that is not afraid to make difficult decisions, and that those in power need, above all else, the integrity, ability, and willingness to fight for what they believe in. That is what is missing in today's wizarding world." He had lifted his head as he spoke and was now proudly returning the Black patriarch's stare. He had spoken the truth - from a certain point of view. The best lie was one wrapped in truth, after all. The wizarding world of his time had gone down the drain exactly because it was being led by spineless cowards like Fudge, who were so engrossed in their own status that they refused to acknowledge anything that might rock their little fantasy world. He reckoned it probably was much the same in this time.
"A wise answer," Orion Black finally conceded after a moment of silence. "Our youth seem so eager to blame all of their problems on the Muggleborn, but it is the rare few that realize that we first have to find the problem with ourselves, before finding fault in others."
Cygnus Black smiled and raised his goblet to Harry. "It's good to see that not all youth are hot-headed and quick to resort to their wands to solve a problem. Though you do seem quite apt with one, anyway."
"And I am sure there will be many opportunities open to someone with as many talents as you, Mr. Ashworth," Malfoy added.
Harry nodded graciously, finally breaking eye contact with the Black patriarch. "Then perhaps one day I may be fortunate enough to be invited to the correct place at the right time to take advantage of such opportunities, then."
"I am certain you will," Malfoy agreed.
"You have met Bellatrix, and my wife, of course," Cygnus Black inserted himself into the conversation after a brief pause. "Have you met my other daughters?"
"I can't say I have had the pleasure," Harry replied. Bellatrix's father smiled widely.
"I have two others. Narcissa, my youngest, and Andromeda," he explained.
Malfoy grinned conspiratorially. "And I have been so fortunate as to be in the right place, as you put it, Mr. Ashworth, that my son Lucius is betrothed to one of Cygnus's beautiful daughters."
"Really?" Harry said, faking surprise. Narcissa Black had, of course, married Lucius Malfoy. Although, Harry had not realized that the betrothal had taken place so early in Narcissa's life.
"I believe you would get along very well," Malfoy continued. "Lucius is much like you - intelligent, ambitious… oh, so very ambitious."
"I would like to meet him some day." Harry tried not to gag at the thought. Befriend Draco's father? The man had been an utter scumbag in his time, someone who used his money and political influence to get what he wanted. In fact, if Fudge had had money, Harry wouldn't have been surprised if Fudge had turned out to be the same as Lucius Malfoy.
"I'm sure something can be arranged. Lucius might even learn a few things from you, considering your experience in foreign countries."
"An arranged marriage?" Harry vaguely recalled hearing something about the Black sisters' marriages having been arranged, but he didn't remember any specifics.
"Yes," Cygnus replied with some dismay. "I believe my sister seems to have her eyes set on giving away yet another one of my daughters." Harry followed his eyes to the end of the table and wasn't surprised to find Rodolphus Lestrange sitting next to Bellatrix, talking to her.
"I don't know if Bellatrix will take the bait, but at least she seems to be on speaking terms with him," her father added, "which is quite an improvement over when they were first introduced."
Harry arched an eyebrow, not really surprised. "Is that so?" He was actually surprised to realize that, now that he thought about it, Lestrange - either one of them - wasn't really Bellatrix's type. She seemed rather intelligent, self-absorbed, and egocentric. Lestrange, from what he knew of him in the future, was much the same and Harry would be willing to bet that he demanded that his future wife all but worship the ground he walked on. Right now, though, he seemed to be willing enough to compromise just to get Bellatrix's attention. Harry realized with a smirk that the girl had a bored expression on her face and wasn't really paying attention as he probably tryied to impress her with some story or another.
Her father noticed the direction of Harry's glance and eyed the young man curiously. "I was led to believe you've only known my daughter for a short time," he finally commented.
"Excuse me?" Harry started.
"The way you look at my daughter. It seems you've known her for far longer than a few days."
"It's not that," Harry replied glibly. "I was just thinking that I don't think she likes him very much."
Cygnus hummed noncommittally. "To be perfectly frank, neither do I." He arched an eyebrow at Harry. "That young man is boorish, uncultured, and lacks the finesse that we Blacks call our own."
Oh, he definitely lacks finesse, Harry thought with a barely suppressed chortle. Lestrange was about as subtle as a sledgehammer on the battlefield, the type that would shoot first, shoot some more, and then probably forget to ask questions afterwards. "From what I've seen of him, I'm forced to agree."
"Ah yes, your little run in with him before my sister so timely arrived."
"He struck me as rather un-Slytherin. One might even call his behavior almost Gryffindorish," Harry commented deliberately. He was taking a gamble, trying to probe the older man's opinion on the houses.
"I do not think even a Gryffindor would act like he does, though his tendency to act without thinking certainly fits." Bellatrix's father narrowed his eyes. "But that is not truly your opinion of the houses, is it?"
"Pardon me?"
"Bellatrix explained to me your little speech a few days ago. When you prevented her from having a confrontation with that Potter boy."
"I see." Harry frowned, realizing that he probably should have kept his mouth shut. As much as he hated to admit that Snape was right, he really did have a tendency to act first and think later. "You would be right, then."
"You seem to have a rather interesting view on things, Mr. Ashworth, not to mention the fact that you seem to know a lot about the wizarding world in England, despite the fact that you're not from here. Something like that hardly goes unnoticed."
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