Reborn as Petunia Evans with a System-Chapter 54 - 52

Sirius

What the Hell is Going On?

I hate family dinners.

Not just dislike. Not just "ugh, another boring evening." No. I hate them

with the same passionate intensity that I reserve for cauldron-cleaning detentions and History of Magic lectures. The kind of hate that boils in your stomach and makes your skin itch under your formal dress robes.

So, naturally, when Grandfather Arcturus Black summoned the entire Black family to Black Manor for a "family gathering," I knew I was in for a night of pure, unfiltered torture.

We were seated in the drawing room, all of us, lined up like statues from a particularly miserable museum exhibit. I leaned against the edge of the chaise lounge, tie loosened, collar unbuttoned, doing everything in my power to look as disinterested and rebellious as possible

He sighed like a seventy-year-old man with a headache. "Mum's going to be mad again."

I smirked. "Let her be mad. She can't yell at me with Grandfather sitting right there. He's the only one in this house more terrifying than her.

And it was true. Walburga Black might rule our household with an iron wand, but Arcturus Black was ancient, cold, and sharp enough to slice through diamond. When he spoke, even she listened.

Just then, a tiny voice piped up from the doorway. "Dinner is ready, young Masters."

It was Lotty, the house-elf. Dressed in an embroidered tea towel with the Black family crest stitched neatly into the corner, she bowed low, her long ears drooping

I dragged myself upright, looking around as everyone began shuffling toward the dining hall like mourners to a funeral. And in some ways, it was a funeral. The death of a perfectly good evening I could've spent doing literally anything else.

The dining hall was lavish, of course. Massive, with dark wood paneling, silver chandeliers, and a long obsidian table that reflected the candlelight like glass. Every single seat was filled tonight which was rare.

Even Grand-Aunt Cassiopeia had made an appearance, parked at the far end like some wizened vampire queen. Aunt Lucretia was seated beside her uncle Cygnus and his wife, Aunt Druella, all dressed in their finest dress robes like they were here to attend the Yule Ball instead of dinner.

And then there were the daughters—them.

Bellatrix looked as smug and terrifying as usual, drumming her perfectly manicured nails against the table. Andromeda gave me a small smile one of the only people here whose company I could actually tolerate and Narcissa sat as stiffly as a statue, her blonde hair pulled back so tightly it might snap.

And the there he was.

Uncle Alphard.

My favorite.

"Uncle Alphard!" I called, striding over with genuine enthusiasm. "You came!"

"Of course I came," he said, ruffling my hair. "Wouldn't miss one of Arcturus's delightful dinners for the world. How's my favorite nephew?"

I gave him a cheeky grin. "About to be slowly bored to death."

He laughed. "Ah, a true Black."

We all took our seats eventually, the murmuring quieting as Grandfather lifted his wine glass and cleared his throat. I braced myself for some long-winded speech about bloodlines and legacy.

Instead

"Alphard," Grandfather said, voice low but clear, "when is the wedding?"

A pause.

My father Orion Black choked on his drink.

"Wedding?" he echoed, brows furrowing. "Wedding to whom?"

Uncle Alphard didn't flinch. He set down his goblet and said, calmly but with pride, "To Eileen Prince."

The silence that followed was violent.

My mother's head snapped toward him like a curse in motion. "Isn't that the girl who ran off with a Muggle? The same one who if I recall was disowned, disgraced, and" she sneered, " reconnected with her family only recently, dragging her halfblood son along?

Uncle Alphard didn't take the bait.

"That boy you're talking about," he said, voice low and hard, "is my son."

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

If a dragon had burst through the wall right then and started breakdancing on the table, it wouldn't have shocked me more than that statement.

My fork froze halfway to my mouth. I looked from Uncle Alphard to Grandfather to my mum and back again.

His son?

No one spoke. No one moved.

Except Grandfather, who leaned back slightly in his chair, as if this was old news to him. Maybe it was.

"Eileen and I were together since Hogwarts," Alphard continued. "We lost touch after graduation... thanks in no small part to this family. She married a Muggle. I thought she'd moved on. But now she's free. And I've found out the truth. Severus is mine. And I intend to marry her."

I blinked.

Wait.

Severus?

"As in... Severus Snape?" I asked, dumbly, looking at him like he'd just announced he'd adopted a Hippogriff and named it Cupcakes.

Uncle Alphard glanced over. "Yes, that's right. You two are in the same year, aren't you?"

I swallowed. "Yeah. We... know each other."

Know each other? That was one way to put it.

Snivellus—er, Snape—was my cousin?

My cousin?

Good," Alphard said brightly. "Then I'm sure you'll get along splendidly."

I gave him a strained smile. "Sure. Can't wait."

My stomach turned.

What in Merlin's saggy underpants was going on? How had Snape

Severus bloody Snape become a Black? My cousin?

Across the table, Mother was practically vibrating with fury.

"You never forgot her," she hissed, voice sharp as poisoned glass. "Even back at school you always had eyes for that whor-"

"Don't," Alphard snapped.

It was a warning.

"She is a pureblood, yes " she spat, " but she wasn't even one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight"

"She was better than you in every way that mattered."

That shut her up.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her eyes darted toward Grandfather, searching for backup. For authority.

But Grandfather just took a sip of his wine and said, with maddening calm, "Do what you want, Alphard. I give you my blessing. Bring the girl. And the boy."

The boy. Snape.

My cousin.

Oh, bloody hell.

I stared down at my plate, appetite completely vanished. My family was already a mess pureblood politics, obsessive bloodline worship, secret grudges and ancient grudges. Now I was related to Snape?

I mean, how the hell was I supposed to process this? Severus Snape

argumentative, brooding, sarcastic little git that he was was now officially my cousin.

And worse?

He might not be going anywhere.

We weren't mortal enemies or anything no matter what people thought. We had our spats, sure. Banter that could cut glass, heated words in the library, the occasional hex thrown when tensions bubbled over. There was that one duel in First year where I may or may not have set his homework on fire. He got back at me by charming my broom to throw me off during flying class. Nothing permanent. Nothing that couldn't be shrugged off with a grin or a good insult

But the thing that always, always set us off?

Petunia Evans.

Ah, Petunia. Radiant, beautiful, and far too kind for the likes of either of us.

Severus liked her I know that even if he is not very vocal about it but his eyes betrayed him every time she walked into a roomShe had that golden glow, like sunlit parchment and fresh air after summer rain. She had a quiet kind of confidence, the kind that made you want to listen when she spoke and follow when she led.

And somehow - somehow we both ended up completely head over heels for her.

Which made things... complicated.

I remember once, during Potions, she asked me to pass her a sprig of dittany, and I accidentally handed her billywig stings instead. Severus caught it and muttered something snide, and we nearly blew up the cauldron arguing over who knew more about antidotes. Professor Slughorn was not amused. Neither was Petunia, to be fair

There was always this strange energy between me and Snape. Like we were both circling the same constellation but from opposite ends of the sky. And now, Grandfather Arcturus had dropped a star-shattering comet into the middle of our orbit:

We were cousins.

Cousins.

How? Why? What cosmic joke was this?

I looked back up at the table, trying to piece things together while the adults went back to their wine and passive-aggressive sniping. Mother was still fuming silently, her jaw clenched so tight I half expected her teeth to shatter. Alphard looked perfectly relaxed, sipping his wine like he hadn't just lobbed a magical bomb into the middle of dinner

Of course he knew. He always knew things before the rest of us did. The puppet master behind every curtain.

Snape. My cousin. We shared blood now.

I pushed a potato around my plate, appetite well and truly gone.

Oh, Merlin, kill me now.

....................................