A House-Elf on the Roof

A House-Elf on the Roof

A musical saga of the Fall of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black by Murasaki based on Fiddler on the Roof (music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick)

"A House-Elf on the Roof - Seems Crazy, No?"

Kreacher fiddles around in 12 Grimmauld Place in the filk musical A House-Elf on the Roof.

Image © 2004 Red Scharlach

Tradition
Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat
Since I Am A Pureblood
To Blood!
Sirius Disowned
Alphard's Encounter
Bloodtraitor of Bloodtraitors
Andromeda Disowned
I Must Leave the Family
Do You Love Me?
I'll Leave Them Everything
Alphard Is Disowned
Regulus Ballet
The Fidelius Charm
12 Grimmauld Place
Sunrise to Sunset

Copyright 2004 by Murasaki


Tradition

To the tune of the same name

Circa 1968. Kreacher, the house elf, stands on the roof of 12 Grimmauld Place, looking as old, hairy, and wrinkled as ever. He shuffles about in his loincloth, cleaning out the gutters, muttering to himself, as usual-- though a little more intelligibly, as he yet to lose all of his sanity. Though he looks utterly foolish and insane, he has an air of purpose to him. He smiles to himself as he works.

KREACHER: A house elf on the roof. Seems crazy, no?

But here at 12 Grimmauld Place, you might just find that I am crazy . . . doing my mistress's bidding, fearing her wrath more than breaking my own neck. It isn't easy.

You may ask, "We do I work up here if it's so dangerous?" Well, I work because my mistress bids me. And why does she bid me? Well, I'll tell you . . .

I don't know.

But why do I listen? That I can tell you in one word:

Tradition!

From within the house come the echoes of a recitation:

ALL: Tradition, tradition! Tradition!
Tradition, tradition! Tradition!

KREACHER: In my mistress's family, everyone is of the purest blood. Here, in the wizarding world, a lot of people base everything off of bloodline: where they live, who they marry, where they work, even who can own house elves.

He motions to his ragged loincloth.

For instance, a pureblood family always has a house elf. He always wears a loincloth and never is given any clothes. This shows our enslavement.

You many ask, "How did you end up enslaved?"

I'll tell you: "It's a tradition."

It's a tradition of the purebloods to have house elves, and every one of us knows who his master is, and which family he serves . . . just as each wizard ought to know where he fits into our society.

He motions in the window, which leads to the Black childrens' nursery. Before him sits the entire family. Young Bellatrix, Sirius, Andromeda, Narcissa, and Regulus sit at the foot of a large armchair in which sits Mr. Black, Sirius and Regulus's father, a refined but stern middle-aged man. He explains to the children the roles of wizard society. Around him stand his wife, brother, and his wife, ready to assist him with the propaganda.

MR. BLACK (repeating the earlier recitation): Tradition, tradition! Tradition!
Tradition, tradition! Tradition!

Mr. Black holds up a card that shows a dignified wizard in extravagant robes, waving a wand with a grand puff of smoke emitting from it. The card is labeled "Pureblood."

MR. BLACK (proudly): Who, with their blood, their extensive family lineage,
Dignified old manors, fantastic histories,
Has the unsaid right, as the highest class by far,
To receive the finest life around?

He motions to the children. Bellatrix, Regulus, Andromeda, and Narcissa sit upright, reciting with him dutifully. Sirius leans back against the wall, looking bored. He only mutters.

ALL: The purebloods, the purebloods! Tradition!
The purebloods, the purebloods! Tradition!

Mrs. Black, dark and stern as her husband, steps to the fore, diverting the attention of the children. Her card has an unnattractive ragged-robed woman drawn on it, labeled "Halfblood."

MRS. BLACK (suppressing obvious distaste): Who is the newest in society, With their blood impure, their notions wrong?
Who has a bloodline not as pure as we,
And ought to serve us down where they belong?

She raises a hand and gestures to the children, who begin to sing with her. Regulus hops slightly as he sings, looking eager. Sirius rolls his eyes and Bellatrix shoots him a menacing look.

ALL: The halfbloods, the halfbloods! Tradition!
The halfbloods, the halfbloods! Tradition!

Elladora Black, the mother of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa, takes over from Mrs. Black, holding up a card with a wizard that is less ugly than the previous card, but is haplessly holding a wand emitting a feeble puff of smoke. The card is labeled "Squib."

ELLADORA: At first they start at Hogwarts School,
But soon after they flunk out.
Most families that bear them throw
These non-magic folk out.

Bellatrix, Regulus, Andromeda, and Narcissa begin to recite without prompting, though Andromeda looks a little weary.

The Squibs, the Squibs! Tradition!
The Squibs, the Squibs! Tradition!

Sirius is not reciting at all. Bellatrix elbows him sharply. He shoots her an angry look but she faces front and appears not to notice. However, as Alphard Black, who is the kindliest of the four adults, steps forward with a card of a fat person smiling stupidly, with very few teeth and no wand, labeled "Muggle," Sirius's face brightens.

ALPHARD (with an expression that says quite clearly he feels ridiculous):
And who has not our powers,
Nor sense of our wizard world?
And to whom do we bear grudges,
Since they once us tried to burn?

Sirius smirks and catches eyes with him, and neither recite. Andromeda notices, midway through, and stops. Bellatrix narrows her eyes at the three of them, but Regulus and Narcissa sing on, unaware.

ALL: The Muggles, the Muggles! Tradition!
The Muggles, the Muggles! Tradition!

Kreacher has descended from the roof unnoticed and is now inside the hall of the Black house, beside the extensive line of family portraits. The other members of the family slowly make their way downstairs behind him.

KREACHER: And just as much of our family are our hall of portraits.
For instance, Araminta Meliflua.

He approaches her portrait. The figure within squints at him.

ARAMINTA: Regulus! Regulus!

REGULUS (warily): What?

ARAMINTA: I've figured out what you can do for a living. All you have to do is become Minister of Magic.

REGULUS: What???

ARAMINTA: Oh, it'll be easy. Just pay your way in. You can finally pass that bill of mine.

REGULUS: You mean the Muggle-Hunting Bill? It was vetoed unanimously!

ARAMINTA: Exactly! But with you as Minister and with all the family gold in your pockets, there's no way anyone can say no!

The portrait beside her wakes up. Kreacher acknowledges him.

KREACHER: And, of course, the dear former Headmaster Phineas Nigellus.

Narcissa approaches his portrait tentatively.

NARCISSA: Great-great-grandfather Nigellus, may I ask you a question?

PHINEAS (cooly): Certainly.

NARCISSA: Before I go to off to school, do you think you could put in a good word for me for the Headmaster?

PHINEAS: Put in a good word for you for the Headmaster? Of course!

Closes his eyes as if pretending to channel Dumbledore's spirit.

Let the Headmaster notice my great-great-granddaughter right away . . .

He glares pointedly at her.

. . . and see right through her buttering up!

Kreacher steps hestitantly towards the door.

KREACHER: And then there are the others in our world. They make a much bigger circle.
We don't tolerate some of them, because not all of them are purebloods like us.
But within the pureblood circle, we get along perfectly well.

Of course, there was the time when my mistress told her eldest that he wasn't going to inherit anything because she didn't approve of him,
But that's all settled, and we all live in familial peace and harmony.

He lowers his voice.

I mean, we all agree: Regulus is the much better son.

ALPHARD (noticing Kreacher): But Sirius is still the firstborn.

MRS. BLACK (calmly, over Sirius's head, as if warning him): But if he isn't going to act properly, he isn't going to get anything.

ALPHARD: The heir is Sirius!

MRS. BLACK: Not if I say Regulus!

MR. BLACK: I never said it shouldn't go to Sirius.

MRS. BLACK: But you must prefer Regulus!

The other family members gradually begin to join in the argument. Sirius and Regulus stand off to the side, Regulus distraught at the chaos, Sirius simply rolling his eyes in abandon.

ALPHARD/ANDROMEDA/MR. BLACK: Sirius!

MRS. BLACK/BELLATRIX/NARCISSA/ELLADORA: Regulus!

ALPHARD/ANDROMEDA/MR. BLACK: Sirius!

MRS. BLACK/BELLATRIX/NARCISSA/ELLADORA: Regulus!

ALPHARD/ANDROMEDA/MR. BLACK: Sirius!

MRS. BLACK/BELLATRIX/NARCISSA/ELLADORA: Regulus!

KREACHER (breaking out in song as the others carry on in the background): Tradition, tradition! Tradition!

He works his way back onto the roof, into the quiet air.

Traditions, traditions.
Without our pureblood tradition,
Wizard society would be as foolish as . . .

He looks down at himself and grins in irony.

As a house-elf on the roof!

Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat

To the tune of Matchmaker, Matchmaker

Circa 1971: 11-year old Andromeda and 11-year Sirius are waiting in line to be Sorted their first year at Hogwarts. Slightly older Bellatrix rushes up to give them one last warning before they begin. She speaks to them firmly.

BELLATRIX: Well, they have to choose the Houses this way,
But the Blacks always get Sorted into Slytherin.

SIRIUS (crossing his arms defiantly): But I might be judged for my loyalty!

ANDROMEDA: Or my intelligence!

SIRIUS: Or honor!

ANDROMEDA: Or bookishness!

The two younger cousins begin to sing, spiting Bellatrix, as she rolls her eyes.

ANDROMEDA/SIRIUS:
Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat,
Choose me the House best,
Find me my place,
Give me a crest.
Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat,
Scan through my mind,
And choose me the perfect House.

Bellatrix pushes between the two, stopping their giddy display, flaunting her own Slytherin insignia on her robes.

BELLATRIX:
Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat,
You put me in green
Flourished with silver;
I'm clever and mean.
Slytherin House is best suited for me,

She gives the other two a pointed look.

And the rest of my family.

ANDROMEDA (earnestly):
But Papa said
I could be a Raven.

SIRIUS (glumly):
But Mama said,
It's Slytherin or the door.

BELLATRIX (prodding a finger into Sirius's chest):
Just as long as
You don't get put into
That terrible, horrible Gryffindor!

ANDROMEDA/BELLATRIX/SIRIUS:
Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat,
Chose me the House best,
Find me my place,
Give me a crest.
Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat,
Scan through my mind,
And choose me the perfect House.

BELLATRIX (to Andromeda):
Take care you're put into Slytherin. They might try to Sort you Ravenclaw for your love of books.

Sirius chuckles.

BELLATRIX (to Sirius): And you take care you don't get put into Gryffindor.

SIRIUS: Well, why not?
You say I show signs of being a Gryffindor.
Why shouldn't I be in that House?

BELLATRIX: Because you're the heir of the Black family.
So you'll be in Slytherin like the rest of us, right?
Of course right!

Bellatrix pushes them to the front of the Great Hall. Andromeda (under A. Black) goes first to the stool.

THE SORTING HAT (to Andromeda): Andromeda, Andromeda,
Have I found the House for you!
You're smart and you're kind
--though a bit air-headed, too--
But Ravenclaw, the blue and bronze, shall do.
Shall do!

I promise you'll find friends there,
Perhaps some romance too . . .
Your family will not like him;
But it's up to you.

The Hat is taken off Andromeda's head and she rushes over to the Ravenclaw table. Bellatrix's eyebrows furrow. Sirius goes up to the stool and sits, the Hat placed over his head.

THE SORTING HAT (to Sirius): Sirius, I've got it!
Won't your Mum be surprised?
You're loyal; you're brave
-- though you're rash from time to time--
But you're an honorable Gryffindor, through
And through!

Your father won't be too pleased;
You can guess what he will do!
But as his son and firstborn--
He can't kill you.

Shaken, Sirius gets off the stool and goes towards the Gryffindor table, but Bellatrix leaps from her own table to accost him angrily before he gets there.

BELLATRIX: Did you think that was real smart?
Do you think that you'll get off?
With the worst choice in Houses, the shame on the family . . .
We out to boot you out!

She cuffs him angrily and storms off to the Slytherin table. He turns back to the Hat before sitting down.

SIRIUS (meekly)::
Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat,
You must have noted
I'm heir of my house,
Yet you Sorted me red.
You must know something
I don't comprehend.
But for now I'm as good as dead.

He goes to sit down. Andromeda and Sirius both sing pleadingly to Bellatrix from their seats. She pays no attention.

ANDROMEDA/SIRIUS::
Dear Bella,
Will you tell our parents?
We'd rather
They wait to find out.
It's not that
We hold regrets . . .

Sirius and Andromeda meet wide eyes with each other.

It's just that they'll kick us out!

Sorting Hat, Sorting Hat,
Choose not the House best.
Go with my family,
Not against the grain.
Being ourselves
Can cause us much pain.

All of the House tables rise and make their way out of the Great Hall.

So,
Sort me no House.
Choose not the best.
Find me no place.
Give me no crest.
My family forbids digress!

Since I Am A Pureblood

To the tune of If I Were A Rich Man

Mr. Black strolls through 12 Grimmauld Place, admiring the decorations and thinking to himself.

MR. BLACK: Merlin, I have such an estate here.
I realize, of course, that I did nothing to earn it.
But it's my right, at as a pureblood.
With my bloodline, don't I deserve to live in luxury?

He drags his hand along the wall underneath the portraits hanging in the entrance hall, strolling along with a spring in his step.

Since I am a pureblood,
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
All day long I biddy biddy bum.
Since I am a pureblood man.
I never have to work hard.
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
Since with pure blood, one's a biddy-biddy rich,
Yidle-diddle-didle-didle man.

He steps out into the center of the hall and looks upward, beaming.

I have a big tall house with rooms by the dozen,
Magically concealed from the town.
A giant serpentine chandelier hanging, see?
There are portraits hanging all on the corridor,
Across from them the heads of elves . . .
And the live elf keeps his ancestors dust-free.

He leans into the drawing room doorway and scans over the shelves of artifacts.

We fill the shelves with magical ornaments
For all the guests to see passing by,
And each remarkable artifact
Glows bright in the beholder's eye,
As if to say "I'm of a pureblood man."

Since I am a pureblood,
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
All day long I biddy biddy bum.
Since I am a pureblood man.
I never have to work hard.
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
Since with pure blood, one's a biddy-biddy rich,
Yidle-diddle-didle-didle man.

He looks up past the stairs to the nearest landing, where Mrs. Black is instructing Kreacher to polish the banisters.

I see my wife looking like a proper pureblood wife,
Alumna of old Slytherin.
Ordering the household life to her heart's delight.
I see her shouting out commands and ordering the house elf,
Oh, what a pleasant mood she's in.

He smirks, as Mrs. Black erupts into terrible screams at the sight of Sirius sliding down the newly-polished banister. Mr. Black cringes and puts his hands to his ears.

Screaming at our firstborn, day and night.

He turns to the front door, his hand out at all of the elaborate locks and bolts.

I should demand that all lesser wizards come to fawn on us!
They should plead us to advise them,
Like the Minister herself*,
"If you please, good pureblood!"
"Pardon me, good pureblood!"
Posing problems asked to Dumbledore himself!

And it won't make one bit of difference if I answer right or wrong.
Since I am pure they should think I know it all.

He puts his hands gaily in his pockets and strolls back into the drawing room, where he sits at the desk

As I am rich, I have all the time in the world
To make hobbies to my heart's content,
And even fund a few projects for the Ministry.
And I discuss the future of wizard society with all the purest wizard men.
That's the thing I love the most of all.

He pulls out a certificate of the Order of Merlin from within one of the drawers.

Because I am a pureblood,
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
All day long I biddy biddy bum.
Because I am a pureblood man.
I never have to work hard.
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
Because with pure blood, one's a biddy-biddy rich,
Yidle-diddle-didle-didle man.

*Before Fudge, the Minister of Magic was a woman named Millicent Bagnold.

To Blood!

To the tune of To Life!

Circa 1975. Bellatrix and Regulus are discussing the Death Eaters. Bellatrix, who has been newly made a member, shows him the Dark Mark on her arm.

BELLATRIX (enthusiastically): It's our vow to purity, elitism, and family! And, most important . . .

She backs up and holds out her arms, eyes gleaming fanatically.

To blood! To blood, Death Eaters!
Death Eaters, Death Eaters, pure blood!

REGULUS: Here's to the Death Eater I will be.

BELLATRIX: We'll welcome you openly.

BELLATRIX/REGULUS:
Blood, Death Eaters, pure blood!
Death Eaters, Death Eaters, to blood!

BELLATRIX (grinning and brandishing her wand):
We have a way of persuasion.

REGULUS (pulling out his wand with her):
For any occasion.

BELLATRIX/REGULUS (crossing wands):
Blood, Death Eaters, pure blood!

BELLATRIX: The Dark Lord will lead us to
Whatever we must do
To make our noble cause rise!

REGULUS: And we vow our loyalty,
Our fortunes, our families;
Our master we shall not defy!

BELLATRIX/REGULUS:
To blood, to blood, Death Eaters!

BELLATRIX (listing off the effects of the three Unforgivable Curses):
To brainwash, to torture

REGULUS: To kill!
We'll make all wizards favor us,

BELLATRIX: By using Cruciatus.

BELLATRIX/REGULUS:
Blood, Death Eaters, pure blood!

Bellatrix seizes Regulus's arm, and the scene fades into a Death Eater meeting. Everyone stands, cloaked, in a circle. Bellatrix pushes Regulus forward, towards the tallest figure. Regulus drops to his knees and kisses the hem of Lord Voldemort's cloak.

REGULUS: My Lord . . .

LORD VOLDEMORT: Yes, Black?

REGULUS: I want to join you.

LORD VOLDEMORT: Why the sudden desire?

REGULUS: My cousin has converted me.

THE DEATH EATERS: Bellatrix?

REGULUS: Yes.

THE DEATH EATERS:
Ah! Wonderful! Welcome, Regulus!

The circle splits and Lord Voldemort approaches Regulus. He places his finger on Regulus's forearm, and the Dark Mark is burned into his skin. Regulus screams, but Lord Voldemort laughs.

LORD VOLDEMORT: Welcome, Regulus!

BELLATRIX: Prepare to brainwash, to torture. . .

REGULUS: To kill!

THE DEATH EATERS:
May we purify the wizard race;
Keep our bloodline from disgrace.
Blood, Death Eaters, to blood!

To blood, to blood, Death Eaters!
Death Eaters, Death Eaters, pure blood!

The more members we provide,
The less Muggles will survive!
Blood, Death Eaters, pure blood!

The Death Eaters thrust their left fists in the air, their cloak sleeves fall to reveal their Dark Marks.

We'll raise our hands and show off our Dark Marks
For the honor of Dark Arts--
The culture we all protect!

Our master's name we never speak
Our members are all elite.
Only the best do we select!

To blood and family lineage!
To brainwash, to torture, to kill!
If our enemies take upper hand
We'll gladly go to Azakaban.

Blood, Death Eaters, pure blood!

The circle begins to dance in a circle of celebration around the newly-inducted Regulus, who watches in awe.

Die-die-die-die-die-die-die!
Die-die-die-die-die-die-die!
Die-die-die-die-die-die-die!
Die-die-die-die-die-die-die!

The two Bulgarian diplomats of the Death Eater fold come forward to reiterate their vows.

IGOR KARKAROFF: From deep in Bulgaria
We bring tidings of similar feeling.
To pure blood and may we rule the wizard world!

From deep in Bulgaria
We bring tidings of similar feeling.
To pure blood and may we rule the wizard world!

May all of us remain most loyal to our great Dark Lord.
May we live to serve the cause and with it not grow bored.

Ahhh . . .

ANTONIN DOLOHOV (Let's assume he's another Bulgarian recruit, by his name . . . )
From deep in Bulgaria
We bring tidings of similar feeling.
To pure blood and may we rule the wizard world!

They join again in the circle, as does Regulus. All thrust their left arms into the air.

THE DEATH EATERS:
We'll raise our hands and show off our Dark Marks
For the honor of Dark Arts--
The culture we all protect!

Our master's name we never speak
Our members are all elite.
Only the best do we select!

To blood and family lineage!
To brainwash, to torture, to kill!
If our enemies take upper hand
We'll gladly go to Azakaban.

Blood, Death Eaters, pure blood!
Blood, Death Eaters, pure blood!

The circle stops abruptly with Bellatrix in the center, her wand raised.

BELLATRIX: To blood!

The Death Eaters cheer, and Bellatrix cackles madly.

Sirius Disowned

To A Pledge/Tradition Reprise

Circa 1976. 16-year-old Sirius, carrying a small bundle, sneaks into the entrance hall. He looks around quickly and darts for the door, beginning to fumble with the numerous locks, none of which he can undo without a wand. Alphard emerges at the top of the stairs, yawning. However, he sees Sirius and Apparates instantly at his side, seizing his arm.

SIRIUS (pulling away, shouting desperately): My mind is changing, Uncle Alphard! Since I've been at school, I've realized I don't want to be the heir of this family anymore!

ALPHARD (blankly): You don't want to be a Black?

SIRIUS (resolutely): Yes, Uncle Alphard. I don't want to be a Black.

Alphard stares at him, unable to believe what he is hearing.

ALPHARD: You don't want to be a Black? Unheard of! Absurd!
You don't want to be the heir? Unthinkable!

Following how he was taught to preserve the family line, he prods a finger in Sirius's chest. Sirius glares icily as he scolds.

ALPHARD: What do you think you're doing? Bloodtraitor! Disgrace!
What do you think you are? A halfblood?

We dealt with your being Gryffindor, but this, but now . . .
Some things we will not, we cannot allow!

Tradition!

The heir apparent does not simply decide to run off!
He should never falter!
If we let you off again, where will it end? Where will it end?

Where will it end?

He stops shouting at looks into his nephew's eyes. Sirius is silent, ready to be dragged back into the house and forced to be a proper Black again.

ALPHARD (softened): You're the future leader of our family. Doesn't that mean anything to you anymore?

SIRIUS: I've wanted to break away for some time now. But this is the first night I've been able to do anything about it.

ALPHARD (back to the scolding): Stop talking treason! You are the Black firstborn!

SIRIUS (finally snapping): It's true, but I could be disowned, and I wouldn't have to carry on this blood-obsessed family!

He shuts his mouth quickly, realizing that he may have gone too far. He tries to soften the blow.

SIRIUS: Uncle Alphard, I promise you, if you let me leave, I'll actually be able to do something decent with my life!

Alphard releases his nephew's arm and backs away, turning it over in his mind.

ALPHARD: He has some sense in his words.
On the other hand, what kind of family would let their heir run off? Their eldest son?
On the other hand, he's miserable here.
On the other hand, he is disgracing the family!
But on the other hand, his parents have hated him for so long, and they would love Regulus as the heir.

He doesn't want to be a Black. Unheard of! Absurd!
He doesn't want to be a Black. Unthinkable!

He looks back at Sirius, who is still waiting for his uncle's reaction. Alphard smiles.

ALPHARD: But look at my nephew's face: he hates this; he wants out.
And look at my nephew's eyes: so hopeful.

Tradition!

He gives one last cry in defense of the old ways, but then hangs his head and sighs. He looks up at Sirius, smiling slightly.

ALPHARD: Well . . . good luck on your own.

SIRIUS (breaking into a huge grin): Oh, Uncle Alphard! Thank you!

He wraps his uncle in a huge hug, then shifts his bundle and goes out the door. Alphard shuts it behind him, turning back and sighing. Suddenly, his eyes grow wide.

ALPHARD: My brother! What will I tell my brother?

Alphard's Encounter

To the tune of Tevye's Dream

Alphard cringes as his brother cries out from the top of the stairs.

MRS. BLACK: AAAH! He's gone!

MR. BLACK: Sirius? Sirius? Where are you?

Mrs. Black screams.

ELLADORA (coming out of her own bedroom): What's the matter with you? Why are you howling like that?

MR. BLACK: Where is he? Where is he?

ELLADORA: Where is who? What are you talking about?

ALPHARD (calling from down the stairs, mocking casualness): You mean Sirus? I saw him leave just in here a minute ago!

The other three turn violently towards him, mouths open in shock.

ELLADORA: What's the matter with you, Alphard? You let him LEAVE?

ALPHARD: Well, it was because of Regulus and Bellatrix. They were here just a minute ago.

The other three come down the stairs into the hall with the portraits to listen to Alphard's explanation.

ELLADORA: Bellatrix? You mean our daughter? But she's been with the Lestranges for three months now!

ALPHARD: But she was just here! And I'll tell you what she said. I had just come down here, because I couldn't sleep. All of the portraits were awake. Phineas Nigellus, too. Suddenly, in came Regulus. Naturally, I went up to him, and he said:

The four adults see Alphard's explanation before their eyes as he explains. The wispy figure of Regulus appears, speaking to an equally ghostly Alphard.

IMAGINARY REGULUS:
It must be rather sad
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
To see your daughter wed.
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
Though she never was
The Black heiress because
Brother Sirius is the heir.

The real adults look to the real Alphard in confusion.

MRS. BLACK: Of course.

IMAGINARY REGULUS:
A worthy boy is he
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
Of pureblood family
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
We've taught him all our ways,
And in my father's final days,
Brother Sirius will be heir.

ELLADORA: The heir? Well, of course. He knew that all along.

Alphard holds up his finger to silence her as his dream counterpart argues on.

IMAGINARY ALPHARD:
Congratulations to Sirius;
Bella holds no grudges.
Congratulations to Bella
For marrying one of the Lestranges.

IMAGINARY REGULUS (petulantly):
Noooo!
I think my cousin Bella,
She is jealous.
Bellatrix who was born first
Has an unquenchable thirst:

She wants to replace the heir
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
For Sirius she does not care
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
That wayward little boy,
Killing she shall enjoy
Brother Sirius, the Black heir.

ELLADORA: But Bella can't be heiress!
She's already been married off!

IMAGINARY ALPHARD:
Bellatrix can't be the heir;
She is married.
She's with the Lestranges now,
Plus Regulus is in her way.

IMAGINARY REGULUS (stamping his foot in irritation):
Noooo! No!
You think we're satisfied, Alphard;
You are mistaken.
We want the power, Alphard;
We want him booted out!

There is an abrupt gasp. The Portraits begin to speak.

THE PORTRAITS:
A blessing on your house,
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
Bellatrix has got a spouse,
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
But though she's married him,
She still has got it in
For Sirius the Black heir.

ALPHARD: But what about you, Regulus?

THE PORTRAITS: For Sirius the Black heir.

ALPHARD: Will Bellatrix kill you?

THE PORTRAITS: For Sirius the Black heir.

ALPHARD: Do you want to be the heir?

THE PORTRAITS: Sha! Sha!

Look who is this? Who is this? Who comes here?
Who
Who
Who
Who
What woman is this?
With her heavy-hooded eyelids . . .

ARAMINTA MELIFLUA: Could it be?
BLACK GRANDFATHER: Sure!
BLACK GRANDMOTHER: Yes it could!
BLACK GRANDFATHER: Why not?
PHINEAS NIGELLUS: Who could be mistaken?

The imaginary scene becomes even darker as the ghostly form of Bellatrix, laughing demonically, comes out of the nearest fireplace to accost her cousin and father.

THE PORTRAITS:
It's the Lestrange wife, come back from her husband's side.
It's Rodolphus's dear, dear, former Black wife.
Bella Lestrange
Bella Lestrange
Bella Lestrange
Bella Lestrange
Bella Lestrange
Bella Lestrange
Bella Lestrange

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX:
Daddy! Daddy!
What's this about allowing that bloodtraitor to take on the family?

THE PORTRAITS: She wants the birthright!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Do you not put it past your daughter Bellatrix?

THE PORTRAITS: Bellatrix!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Have you thought nothing of a woman's powers?

THE PORTRAITS: Woman's powers!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Allowing that traitor to rule instead of me!

THE PORTRAITS: Instead of her!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX:
How? How can you let Sirius take his place as heir,
With his Gryffindor ways,
His bloodtraitor soul,
His corruped mind,
Blood?
How?

THE PORTRAITS: How can you let Sirius take his place as heir,

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Blood!

THE PORTRAITS: Gryffindor ways!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Blood!

THE PORTRAITS: Soul!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Blood!

THE PORTRAITS: Mind!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Blood! How?
Such a pureblood family would never let it happen!

THE PORTRAITS: Let it happen!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Either Regulus or I shall rule and I shan't worry!

THE PORTRAITS: Shan't worry!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: I won't allow myself a marriage until he's out!

THE PORTRAITS: He's out!

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX: Let me tell you what would follow such a fated family!

THE PORTRAITS: Fated family!

She stops, her eyes gleaming, an evil smile curled on her lips.

IMAGINARY BELLATRIX:
When Sirius becomes the heir of the family,
I pity you all!
Because I shall let him live for twenty years.
And when twenty years are up.
I'll meet him in a duel,
I'll push him through a veil . . .

And dead will be the Black heir!
Dead will be the Black line!
Dead will be our family!
Dead will be your future!

She laughs psychotically, raising one hand to point meaningfully upward.

Here's my respects if he becomes the patriarch!

The dream dissolves. The others are struck with a great realization.

ELLADORA: Such truth! Did we ever consider that? Let the degenerate slip away.

MR. BLACK: Such a corrupted son!
Haven't we known Sirius would make a terrible heir all along?
If we care about our line,
We should really let him go off on his own and heed Bella's warning.
Let Regulus be; Bella hasn't got it in for him.

ELLADORA: It is rather sad
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
To see our daughter wed,
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
But at least we know that she
Will kill no family,
For Sirius is no heir.

ALPHARD: We'll let Sirius go
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
I for one have always known
Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur
He wanted to be free
Hence he shall no longer be:

MRS. BLACK (with disgust): Sirius is no heir.

Mrs. Black turns to the tapestry, aims her wand at it, and blasts Sirius's name from it. She smirks.

MRS. BLACK: Sirius is no heir.

Bloodtraitor of Bloodtraitors

To the tune of Miracle of Miracles

Sirius, as Padfoot, sneaks up to the Potters' front door. He turns into Sirius and knocks, grinning brightly. When James answers the door in his pajamas, Sirius ignores his look of shock and spills out the good news.

SIRIUS: Shame of the family, bloodtraitor of bloodtraitors,
A Black has proved his might again.
But this time, oh rapture, bloodtraitor of bloodtraitors,
His route was out instead of in!

Shame of the family, bloodtraitor of bloodtraitors,
I was afraid I was stuck as heir.
But umlike my ancestors who reveled in the sedent'ry.
I turned into Padfoot and left it all there!

When Araminta passes Muggle-Hunting Bills,
She's called a Noble Black.
When Phineas reins at Hogwarts School,
He's called a Noble Black, too.

But of all the House of Toujours Pur,
The most un-Noble and un-pure
Is that out of a pureblood supposed,
Comes a man who's quite opposed!

Shame of the family, bloodtraitor of bloodtraitors,
The Most Ancient house now lacks an heir.
And now that I'm here, away from all those maniacs,
I can say out loud that I don't care!

When Aunt Ella cuts off an elf's head,
She's called a Noble Black.
When my mother shouts 'til I go deaf,
She's called a Noble Black, too.

But of all the House of Toujours Pur,
The most un-Noble and un-pure
Is the only Black that got away:
Sirius Black is free today!

Andromeda Disowned

To Perchik Proposes/Tradition Reprise

Circa 1977. Andromeda has told her father about her engagement to Ted Tonks.

ALPHARD: I can't believe my own ears. No arrangement? And you're marrying a Muggle-born? Impossible!
At least the friends of Sirius, they were pure! They were right!
But this boy has impure blood-- and you'll marry him?

What do you want from me? Go on! Be wed!
And starve in the streets with your foul Muggle Ted!

Tradition!

She's not even marrying a boy with the proper lineage!
What's happening to the tradition?

My daughter tells me she's getting married,
No arrangement, no permission.
And he hasn't good family!

ANDROMEDA: He has fine family! And it doesn't matter! He loves me!

Alphard stops suddenly. He turns it over in his mind.

ALPHARD: He loves her.
Love. It's a new concept.
On the other hand, they decided without arrangement from the family.
On the other hand, my daughter will be happy.
On the other hand, this boy doesn't have a single drop of wizard blood.
But on the other hand, Andromeda's old enough to decide on her own, and if she knows Ted is the one . . .

He shakes his head, bewildered.

She wants to marry a Muggleborn. Unheard of! Absurd!
He wants to marry a Muggleborn. Unthinkable!

He looks back at Andromeda, who waits for the blow to fall.

ALPHARD: But look at my daughter's face: she loves him, she wants him.
And look at my daughter's eyes: so hopeful.

At first, he tries to resist.

Tradition!

He realizes there is no way in fighting this. He looks at Andromeda and sighs, giving a weary smile.

ALPHARD: Alright.

ANDROMEDA (throwing her arms about him in a hug): Oh, Father! You won't regret it!

ALPHARD (muttering softly in her arms): I already do . . .

I Must Leave the Family

To the tune of Far From the Home I Love

Andromeda stands in the doorway of 12 Grimmauld Place, taking it in for the last time. Alphard silently puts his hand on her shoulder. She gives him a sad smile.

ANDROMEDA: How can I hope to make you understand
Why I go, why I leave?
Why I allow myself kicked off the tree:
I must leave the family.

Once I was happily content to be
One of three: Sirius, you, and me.
Yet when we lost the former it occurred to me:
I must leave the family.

Who could see that a man could come
Who would change all I ever dreamed?
It matters not his class or blood;
Those things affect not our true love.

Oh, what a foul case this is to hack:
Be a Tonks, or stay a Black.
I know that if I leave I can't come back;
I must leave the family.
Taught that it's shame to woo the Muggle race;
Now I disgrace, I disgrace.
Yet now I marry Ted and leave this place;
I must leave the family.

How can I hope to make you understand
Why I go, why I leave?
Why I allow myself kicked off the tree:
I must leave the family.

Once I was happily content to be
One of three: Sirius, you, and me.
Yet when we lost the former it occurred to me:
I must leave the family.

Who could see that a man could come
Who would change all I ever dreamed?
It matters not his class or blood;
Those things affect not our true love.

Oh, what a tempest surges deep inside:
My love versus my family's pride.
And now comes the time in which I do decide:
I must leave the family.
Away from where I planned to have my home,
I must go, I must go.
Who could imagine I'd be forsaken so,
I must leave the family.

Now it's my love, not my blood, that's pure.

Do You Love Me?

To the tune of Do You Love Me?

Circa 1977. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy are in the Slytherin common room. Lucius is busy with a potion, and Narcissa sits down hesitantly beside him, smoothing her skirt.

NARCISSA: Lucius, my father gave my sister permission to marry a Muggle-born.

Lucius looks up and drops too much of something into the cauldron so a small puff of smoke emits.

LUCIUS: What??? He's a Mudblood! He's nothing! Absolutely nothing!

NARCISSA (shrugging, playing it off): Father gave her permission. He likes him. Andromeda likes him. Andromeda loves him. So what could I do? It's a stain on the family.

Narcissa sniffs.

NARCISSA: Love.

As Lucius goes back to his potion, ignoring Narcissa again. She watches him for a moment, thinking about what she said. Then she asks hesitantly.

NARCISSA: Lucius . . . do you love me?

LUCIUS (indifferently, not looking up): Do I what?

NARCISSA (sighing): Do you love me?

Lucius looks up at her and blinks.

LUCIUS: Do I love you?

He rolls his eyes.

In a month we're getting married,
And in a week I've got my tests.
You're upset; I'm quite stressed.
Let me study; get some rest!

He shakes his head.

LUCIUS: WOMEN sometimes . . .

He turns back to his potions. After a moment's disappointment, Narcissa gets another idea. She hitches her skirt up a bit and strokes her hair.

NARCISSA: Lucius, I'm asking you a question.

She takes a deep breath and leans close to him, seductively.

NARCISSA: Do you lust for me?

Lucius snaps his head up to tell her to go away again, but his eyes fix on her.

LUCIUS (playing cool): You're a fool!

NARCISSA (smiling coyly): Perhaps.
But do you lust for me?

LUCIUS: Do I lust for you?
You look fine and you're pure of blood;
You've got hair of gold, skin soft to touch.
I wouldn't mind kissing your lips of red--

He shrugs, but cannot help but smile.

I guess that's good when we're in bed.

NARCISSA (grinning in satisfaction): We've been betrothed to each other
Practically since our birthdays.
This is it.

LUCIUS (shrugging): It is so.

NARCISSA: We are engaged.

LUCIUS (impatient again): Yes, I know.

NARCISSA: But Andromeda has shown
That choosing could be better on our own,
And so now I'm asking, Lucius:
Do you care for me?

LUCIUS (trying to go back to his work): Does it MATTER?

NARCISSA: Not really.
But do you care for me?

LUCIUS (rolling his eyes): I care about your bloodline.

NARCISSA (sighing in defeat, realizing she can't win): Well, I suppose that confession will serve me fine.

LUCIUS/NARCISSA:
It's "for politics" we've been told,
And now we know:
Purebloods don't marry for love;
It's all for show.

I'll Leave Them Everything

To the tune of Now I Have Everything

Alphard sits at a desk in the tapestry room, staring at the giant, sprawling family tree. He stares at Andromeda's name, which is linked by a double line to Ted Tonks's. He then turns back to the parchment he is writing on-- which is his will.

ALPHARD:
I've always known, myself,
That I had everything.
I never thought there was more.
I have a house, and gold,
And that was everything;
Now I see there could be more.

Blood is not what I want to die for--
Nor what I want to live for, too.

Yes, I thought I had everything, but it wasn't everything.
They showed me there could be more.
So I'll leave them everything,
For they left me so much more.

I used to wonder, is love really true?
I never got to find out until I lost the two of you.

He starts writing down his last wishes on the parchment, leaving everything to Sirius and Andromeda.

Who knows, when I'm gone, where you both will be?
I'll leave my estate to you, a reminder of me.
All of it is left to you,
Daughter and
Nephew.

Yes, I'll leave them everything, but it's not everything.
They showed me there could be more.
So Alphard leaves it all
To you,
And you.

He writes Sirius's and Andromeda's names on the will.

Blood is not what I want to die for--
Nor what I want to live for, too.

Yes, I'll leave them everything, though it's not everything.
They showed me there could be more.
So I'll leave them everything,
For they left me so much more.

He signs his name on the will and sits back with a contented sigh.

Alphard Is Disowned

To Chava Elopes/Tradition Reprise

Mr. Black comes rushing into the tapestry room.

MR. BLACK: Alphard? Alphard!

Alphard whirls around, obviously guilty.

MR. BLACK: Alphard, what are you doing?

Mr. Black peers over to the family tree. His eyes fall on Andromeda's name, and then Ted's. He stares for a long time, obviously scanning his mind for a memory of the name as one of pure blood. No memory comes. His mouth drops open and his eyes widen with comprehension. He begins to shudder, and raises his wand, aiming it at her name.

ALPHARD (grabbing his arm): Stop! Listen to me! I beg you to accept them!

MR. BLACK: Accept them? How can I accept them? Do you ask me to deny everything we stand for?

ALPHARD (pleading): But, on the other hand, can you deny your own kin?

MR. BLACK: But, on the other hand, how can you turn your back on your own blood? The Black line?

He begins to swell with an inexpressible anger.

MR. BLACK (still aiming his wand): If we let this slip . . .

He turns and stares hard at Alphard, knowing that what he claims will happen already has.

MR. BLACK: It all will go!

ALPHARD: But on the other hand--

The wand in Mr. Black's hand releases a shot of green sparks. Andromeda's name burns in a small circle that quickly extinguishes into a charred mark. Ted's name fades immediately.

MR. BLACK: No! There is no other hand! No, Alphard!

He wrenches his arm free of his brother's. Alphard realizes what is going on.

ALPHARD (wide-eyed): But--

With a cry of emotion, another jet of sparks hits Alphard's name.

MR. BLACK: NO!!!

Alphard's name fades from the Black family tree. The man himself takes a step back, breathing heavily. Mr. Black aims his wand at him, threatening him. Alphard backs away into the shadows.

MR. BLACK: NO!!! NO!!!

Regulus Ballet

To the tune of Chava Ballet

1980. After the news of the death of the last hope for the Black lineage, Mrs. Black paces around the room of her dearly departed favorite son.

MRS. BLACK:
Little king, little Regulus,
I don't understand what led you astray;
You were never impure.

Slytherin, always so obedient,
A Death Eater you were,
Regulus, Regulus.

Little king, little Regulus,
You were always such an earnest follower:
My second but my favorite child.

Slytherin, always so obedient,
A Death Eater you were,
Regulus, Regulus.

Kreacher sneaks in and begins to play a melancholy violin solo as Mrs. Black continues to remember her dear Regulus. Within her mind's eyes, she sees him, first hand in hand with herself, Sirius, and Mr. Black. Then, Sirius lets go and fades away into the dark background. Bellatrix sidles up to the remaining three and takes hold of Regulus's free wrist. He releases hold of his mother's hand and takes both of Bellatrix's. She moves him slowly away, bringing him towards a crowd of cloaked figures, arms linked. His parents watch proudly, but begin to fade back into the shadows. Bellatrix joins their line, and Regulus follows, yet gazing back at his shadowed parents-- and Sirius, who is nearly blacked out. Finally, Regulus cannot take it and releases his hold on the Death Eater chain, but before he can run towards the others, the shadow engulfs him entirely and he is gone.

The Fidelius Charm

To the tune of Sabbath Prayer

Circa late 1980. Sirius Black, and Lily, James, and baby Harry Potter (in his mother's arms) sit in a circle in the darkened living room at Godric's Hollow, about to perform the Fidelius Charm. James begins the spell, waving his wand over the four of them.

JAMES (to Lily and Harry):
May this charm protect and defend us.
May it shield us from You-Know-You.

He turns to Sirius.

The Fidelius Charm:
Our secret lies inside of you.

LILY (waving her own wand, chanting to Sirius):
May you be not like Brutus nor Judas;
May you never betray your friend.
The power lies in you;
Your word to him would be our end.

Sirius, who has been growing more and more nervous by the second, suddenly speaks up before the charm goes too far.

SIRIUS: Perhaps the Dark Lord knows of this test.

JAMES/LILY: May our Secret-Keeper never betray us.

SIRIUS: Perhaps a switch or bluff would be best.

JAMES/LILY: May You-Know-Who be unable to see us.

Lily and James look at one another. Then James turns to Sirius, sharing a knowing, understanding grin. Sirius gets up and opens the door, ushering Peter inside. Peter takes Sirius's seat as Sirius stands off to the side, watching, hopeful that he has made the right choice.

JAMES/LILY (to Peter):
May this charm protect and defend us.
May it shield us from You-Know-Who.
May this switch thwart our foe, and keep safe Harry and us,
Perform this charm Fidelius.

12 Grimmauld Place

To the tune of Anatevka

1981, after the fall of the Dark Lord. Andromeda and Narcissa are married, Sirius and Bellatrix are in Azkaban, and Regulus is dead. The last remaining Blacks-- all adults-- pace around the house, surveying what's left of their once grand family.

MRS. BLACK:
A little bit of this, a little bit of that.
Some photos.

ELLADORA: A bust.

MR. BLACK: An elf.

KREACHER: Some dust.

MR. BLACK:
Someone should have set a match to this place years ago.
A vial.

KREACHER: Some blood.

MRS. BLACK: So, what's a goblet? Or a portrait?

ELLADORA (forgetting the fact it was done on purpose): People who pass by our house don't even see it anymore.

KREACHER: Our family tree.

MRS. BLACK: Our family crest.

ALL: What's left of us? Nothing much.
Only 12 Grimmauld Place.

12 Grimmauld Place, 12 Grimmauld Place,
Rotted-out, overcharmed 12 Grimmauld Place.
Where else could evil run so thick?
12 Grimmauld Place, 12 Grimmauld Place,
Intermarried, dying-out 12 Grimmauld Place,
Where the blood runs so darned thick.

Soon our line will die out and we'll be no more,
We haven't got an heir to claim our name.
From 12 Grimmauld Place.

We belong in 12 Grimmauld Place,
Intermarried, dying-out 12 Grimmauld Place,
Toujours Pur, old family of mine.

Sunrise to Sunset

To the tune of Sunrise, Sunset

Late 1995. Sirius has returned to 12 Grimmauld Place. By now, Mr. and Mrs. Black, and Elladora, have died. Kreacher sings to himself as he cleans the house, much more off the deep end than before, resentful of his master.

KREACHER:
Polishing cupboards in the drawing room;
Cleaning up doxies in the hall.

Ridding the household of all of its mess,
Before my head goes on the wall.

Dusting the tapestry my Mistress prizes;
Following the orders she still gives.

I follow all of this through her portrait,
Since she no longer lives.

Sunrise to sunset,
Sunrise to sunset,
Working every day.
Cleaning up one mess after the other,
Working for punishment and praise.

Sunrise to sunset,
Sunrise to sunset,
Working for no one.
Salvaging heirlooms and artifacts,
Hoping our line is not undone.

Suddenly the bloodtraitor returns home.
Suddenly he Kreacher must serve.

Why is it he has come to haunt here?
This house he does not deserve.

He seeks to destroy all the family's
Treasures and valuable history.

And yet he has no qualms of ordering me . . .

Sunrise to sunset,
Sunrise to sunset,
Working every day.
Cleaning up one mess after the other,
Working for punishment and praise.

Sunrise to sunset,
Sunrise to sunset,
Working for no one.
Salvaging heirlooms and artifacts,
Hoping our line is not undone.

~FIN~


Harry Potter the Musical(s)

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