Lord Orion Arcturus Black leaned back in his seat of the Wizengamot and studied his peers. It was November 2nd, 1975 and this was the first session of the new quarter in the British Wizarding government. He studied his known opponents with narrow silvery eyes, clenching his firm lower jaw in an effort to push down his annoyance. He had rather hoped that Lord Harold Potter wouldn't be recovered from his bout of wizarding flu. The male Potter with his trademark messy hair, his own a mousey brown was undeniably present.

Unofficially the Wizengamot chambers were already splitting into three sections, those of the 'Dark', the 'Light', and the fairly powerful Neutral section. The most well-known names in the Light section were the Potter, Abbott, and Fawcett families. Their Dark equivalent were Orion's own family, the Malfoys, Lestranges, and Flint. The only names of notice for the Neutrals were the Bones and Ogden families. No matter what went on in a war, everyone still bought Ogden's Firewhiskey so aged Lord Charles Ogden was in good shape.

Seated to his left was his good friend Abraxas Malfoy, a distinguished individual with deep cornflower blue eyes and long, pale blonde hair. The hair was a trademark of the Malfoy family but Orion was fond of teasing Abraxas that his hair was more white than blonde. The man always gave a dismissive sniff and said, "At least it's not as noticeable as your own, Orion."

Orion Black was a handsome individual and he knew it. Both of his sons took after him and his side of the Black family, something he was grateful for. He stood an imposing six foot four and possessed broad shoulders, very strong arms, and a surprisingly narrow waist for one of 46 winters. Orion was proud of his figure and it helped that it was set off by a pair of misty blue eyes and deep black hair, though he had been amused at the white hairs that had shown already. They made him look even more distinguished than he usually did, confined to a small space at both temples. His hair was cut to fall just at earlobe length with a slightly longer fringe that he usually tucked behind his left ear out of habit.

Seated to his right was Lord Lucien Alexis Lestrange who possessed a pair of astonishing silver eyes he shared with his distant relative and namesake, Lucius Malfoy. His twin sons Rodolphus and Rabastan were at Hogwarts along with both of Orion's sons, in the same year as his oldest, Sirius. Orion frowned slightly to himself, worried about his oldest. Even though he had sent word that Sirius was still welcome home for the holidays after Walburga's surprising but unlamented death he hadn't received word back.

A slight snort of amusement made it past firm, expressive lips as he considered the matter of his unexpected widow state. For such a proud and anti-Muggle woman, being brought down by cancer of all things had infuriated his late wife beyond measure. The wizarding world had no better research on the invasive disease than the Muggle one, and Walburga had refused to be treated by anything invented by 'common filth', thus she had passed away not even four months previous from Heart Cancer, bitter to the very end. Her foul, withered old heart had been her end, just as Orion had often thought it would be.

The death of that foul old harpy was liberating, to say the least. What? Had one really expected him to have cared about the woman? It had NOT been his choice to marry that old bitch, not in the least! No, his parents Arcturus and Lucretia had somehow come upon the knowledge that their son and heir was bisexual with a strong preference for his own gender, so the old, self-righteous, and bigoted pair had secured an 'acceptable' future and revenge upon their son's leanings in one fell swoop, betrothing him to his cousin of all people.

Just before the doors would seal, signaling the beginning of the session, a series of murmurs caught his attention. "Now who is that, I wonder?" Lucien murmured in surprise.

Turning to the doors that offered the Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot entrance (the reporters and such had a lower entrance toward the center of the circular room and had been seated before the Wizengamot began to arrive), Orion Black felt his eyes widen in surprise.

The man walking steadily toward the Speaker's platform was younger than Orion, though considerably past his teens. He was dressed in a striking combination of leather and silk, the leather pants and boots in a warm shade of bronze and the silk robe in evergreen with bronze tracery. He possessed raven-black hair that was slightly wavy bound back by a thin bronze tie and very pale jade green eyes. His complexion was flawless and while he was obviously male, the creamy skin and soft features of his face gave a certain androgynous nature to his appearance.

"Speaker of the Wizengamot, I wish to claim my seat and votes," His voice was a surprisingly low tenor, very mellow and smooth.

"Certainly, my Lord. Place your finger upon the black stone please; the magicks of the Chamber will do the rest."

Their newest companion placed a single long finger upon the black stone resting on the Speaker's platform, not even flinching at the small bite of blood the stone took. A moment later the magicks of the Chamber filled the room with a loud voice that stated, "The Wizengamot recognizes Lord Harrigan of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Peverell."

Amid the absolute stunned silence of the chamber, Abraxas hissed in his ear, "Peverell?"

As both Orion and his esteemed friends knew, the Peverell family was supposedly extinct in the male line. The Lordship hadn't been claimed in nearly 100 years, 99 to be precise. This was of significance only because of the fact that once a Lordship had gone unclaimed for 100 years it could be claimed by the closest descendants. From the growing scowl on Senior Mugwump Albus Dumbledore's face, he had been hoping the prestigious line would go to the Potters in another year. They had been able to take one of the smaller vaults as descendants but the title had been denied by Gringotts.

Better yet, nobody could accuse Lord Harrigan of doing something dishonest to gain the title. The Wizengamot Chambers had all manner of spells and wards laid in place, supposedly by Merlin himself, to stop just such a thing from happening. On top of that, the black stone that confirmed a Lord or Lady's place in the Wizengamot did so with a drop of blood, which no potion in the magical world could falsify. Even Polyjuice just changed the physical make-up, not the blood.

He watched the pale jade eyes scan the room, undoubtedly noting the unofficial breakup between factions. Those eyes narrowed a little in contemplation and then a very small smirk crossed his lips. With a deliberately slow turn, Lord Harrigan Peverell made his way carefully toward Orion and his companions, getting an indrawn gasp to cover the mutterings from before.

Orion was equally floored. A look at Abraxas showed that the blonde had tightened his grip on the elegant black cane he held, the only outward sign of his own shock. The Peverells were a firmly Light family in the past, some of the more recent members had been Neutral, certainly, none had been Dark. And yet Harrigan Peverell made his way carefully up the stairs and took a seat two down from a slightly-stunned looking Lucien Lestrange.

A blustering Lord Fawcett spoke first. "Lord Peverell, I am not certain you realize where you are sitting. The men in your immediate vicinity are the Lords Black, Malfoy, and Lestrange. You are more than welcome over here instead of such dark companionship."

That low warm voice filled the room again, though Lord Peverell didn't stand. "I am fully aware of where I sit, Lord Fawcett, thank you."

"Then why are you sitting with the Dark section? The Peverells are a Light family!" Lord Prewett sputtered.

"Need I remind you, Lord Prewett, that your family was considered Dark as well until the 1940's when you thought it prudent to side with Albus Dumbledore when it became obvious Grindelwald was losing the war? Dark is a very general term, in my opinion. Nonetheless, it is not your place to decide where I sit and how I vote and I suggest you be quiet before you make even more of a fool of yourself."

Lord Ogden gave a hearty chuckle from the Neutral section and Lord Prewett took his seat, face flaming in embarrassment.

This, Orion mused, is going to be interesting.