Reborn as Petunia Evans with a System-Chapter 56 - 54

"Severus, come here a moment," Mother called from the parlour, where she sat by the tall windows, sorting through parchment invitations tied with silver ribbon.

I stepped into the room, brushing ash from my sleeves after a test of an enhanced shielding charm in the greenhouse. "Yes?"

She looked up with a rare, gentle smile. Her features were softer lately, younger somehow, as though time had reversed a little. "I want you to write to Petunia. Invite her family."

I blinked. "To the wedding?"

She nodded, smoothing the edge of one invitation. "Yes. The whole Evans family, if they'll come. I know it's short notice, but... I think it's important."

"You really want them there?"

Her smile faltered slightly, but her eyes remained steady. "Petunia has been a friend to you in ways others haven't. I remember when you first met her how you came home with a book she lent you, telling me all about how clever she was. ."

I sat down beside her, fingers curling around the armrest. "Alright,"

I said, after a pause. "I'll write to her."

I looked at her and asked.

"Do you love him?"

She reached for my hand. "I did. I do. I never stopped."

Mother leaned forward and kissed the side of my head. "Thank you, Severus. And if they say yes, let Lotty know. She'll bring them here."

"Lotty's been busy lately."

She laughed a proper laugh, full of mischief. "She's in heaven. She thinks planning a wedding is the greatest thing that's ever happened."

I stood again and turned toward the door. "I'll go write to Petunia now."

Dear Petunia,

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freёnovelkiss.com.

I hardly know where to begin.

The past week has been well, there's no polite or succinct way to say it. It's been mad. Utterly, wholly, spectacularly mad. You deserve to hear everything in person, truly you do, but I couldn't wait any longer to write. I suppose I should start with the thing that's turned my world inside out: I've learned that the man I thought was my father Tobias Snape is not.

No, Petunia. He isn't.

It's strange to even write those words. To look at the page and think it must be someone else's story. But it's mine. My mother finally told me the truth. My real father is Alphard Black.

Yes, a Black. A name I've heard spoken with disdain more times than I can count. I didn't believe it at first. I demanded proof. I was a confused. And yet... there were pieces of my life that suddenly snapped into place with this knowledge. The way Tobias never looked me in the eye unless it was with contempt. The letters I once found in Mother's trunk, always signed with the initial A. The stories I was never told.

Alphard isn't what I expected, Petunia. He's not a cruel man, nor is he careless. There's a warmth to him that's disarming, and a guilt in his eyes when he looks at me that I don't know what to do with yet. I wanted to tell you all this in person, but I couldn't bear to delay much longer. I know a letter isn't enough. It barely scratches the surface of everything that's happened.

And as if that wasn't enough, there's more. My mother and father are getting married. This Sunday.

Yes, I know. It's all moving very fast. But I've never seen my mother so... light. That's the word for it. Like something heavy has been lifted from her shoulders. She smiles more. She sings to herself when she thinks no one is listening. I think you'd like seeing her like this.

So I'm writing to invite you. Your whole family, if you'd like. Lily, your parents, even your horrid Aunt Maureen if she insists. I would truly like you to be there. You've stood by me more than anyone, and even if this week has been a whirlwind of secrets and chaos, I want you at my side for this.

If transport is an issue, just write to me. Our house elf, Lotty, can Apparate you straight to the manor. She's been buzzing around ever since the engagement was announced, so she'll be delighted to help.

Let me know. Please.

Your friend, Severus

A week passed in a blur of preparations. The Prince Manor was alive with movement and magic lotuses blooming in floating bowls, enchanted streamers that shimmered in silver and navy, and Lotty tripping over herself with nerves and excitement. I caught Mother humming as she looked through a stack of fabric samples for her gown, and Dad had taken over the drawing room with parchment plans and checklists.

The wedding, when it came, was simple and elegant an intimate affair for something involving a Black. And then, barely two days later, an owl arrived with parchment so fine and formal it

]=The invitation had come via owl, sealed in the most obnoxiously dark green wax with a silver crest. Mother and father exchanged one long look when they opened it. She raised a brow. He sighed. practically sneered at the notion of being opened by common hands.

Dad unfolded it at breakfast, his expression unreadable as his eyes skimmed the contents.

"What is it?" Mother asked.

He sighed and passed the letter to her. I leaned over to read it too.

Dinner with the Arcturus Black the head of the black family.

I was dreading it.

"That sounds more like a summons than an invitation," I muttered.

"It is," dad said grimly.

And so, just after dusk on Friday, we arrived at Black Manor.

Now, standing in front of the towering gates of Black Manor, I found myself smoothing my formal robes for the tenth time. The air crackled with old magic. Everything about the place felt heavy, grand, and faintly oppressive.

"I assure you," he murmured as we entered the grand foyer, "it's just Arcturus tonight. My parents passed years ago. He's the head of the family now—and the only one who insisted on meeting us formally."

"Lucky me," I muttered.

We were greeted by Arcturus Black himself dad uncle, tall and still sharp despite his age. His beard was trimmed to an inch of precision, his robes immaculate, and his eyes like shards of grey ice.

The dining room was cavernous, its long table set with flickering black candles and crystal goblets. Arcturus Black stood at the far end, tall and imposing, dressed in dark emerald robes and bearing the unmistakable air of someone who had ruled his domain far too long without challenge.

His sharp eyes scanned me, then my mother, then dad. He didn't offer a smile.

"So," he said, voice low and deliberate, "this is the boy."

"This is Severus," dad confirmed, placing a hand on my shoulder. "My son."

Arcturus raised a single brow. "Hmph." He gestured to the seat nearest him. "Sit."

We obeyed, Mother and Alphard flanking me. I felt like a specimen on display.

For a while, the meal passed in taut silence roasted pheasant, spiced pumpkin mash, wine I didn't touch. Finally, Arcturus black broke the quiet.

"You look like your mother and a little bit of your father ."

dad give him a look, but I only smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Arcturus huffed, but there was a spark of something like amusement in his eye.

"And you're in Ravenclaw, I'm told?"

"Yes."

"Hmph. Not a Gryffindor. There's hope, then."

The corner of my mouth twitched. "I'd rather die than be sorted into Gryffindor."

"I like this one," Arcturus said dryly.

Mother chuckled softly. Alphard visibly relaxed.

Conversation turned to the wedding Arcturus asked blunt questions about the ceremony, the guest list, whether the Prince family's assets were still held under the old trust. Mother answered with measured grace, showing the steel behind her poise.

"You've handled your family's estate well," Arcturus finally said. "I'll admit, I didn't expect it."

"I've always done what needed to be done," Mother replied simply.

A long pause.

"Well. I suppose there's no use arguing with what's already done," Arcturus grunted, rising from his chair. "The boy will be acknowledged."

"Thank you," Alphard said, his voice thick with emotion.

Arcturus turned his cold gaze on me one last time. "Welcome to the house of black, Severus."

I met his eyes and inclined my head. "Thank you, sir."

As dessert was served slivers of pear tart with clove cream and candied walnuts—Arcturus poured himself a final glass of port and fixed his gaze on me again.

"Your Father says you're talented at Potions."

I nodded. "It's my best subject."

He swirled the port. "Theory or practice?"

"Both. I write my own amendments to standard recipes."

Arcturus finally nodded, slow and measured. "Useful. Practical. You'll need that."

"I'm aware."

The elder Black set down his glass. "You're not what I expected."

"I often find people say that," I replied evenly. "I take it as a compliment."

To my surprise, Arcturus let out a low, gravelly chuckle. "Cheeky. But not foolish."

He stood. The room fell into a brief hush. "I won't pretend this is simple. The Black name doesn't bend for sentiment. But... if you continue to conduct yourself with this level of discipline and wit, Severus, you may find yourself with allies you hadn't counted on."

I rose with him, meeting his gaze steadily. "I don't expect gifts. Just fairness."

"Then we understand each other."

Arcturus extended a hand. I hesitated but only for a moment then took it in a firm shake.

As we left the dining room, Alphard pulled me aside in the hall.

"That was more than I hoped for," he said quietly, eyes bright with pride. "Y

As we made our way toward the Floo, I heard dad exhale in relief.

"You did well tonight," he said quietly. "Better than I did at your age."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?"

He chuckled. "No. But it's the truth."

Mother took my hand

As the green flames licked at our heels and took us home, I felt something unfamiliar settle in my chest. Not peace, exactly. But something adjacent to it. A beginning, perhaps

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