ESTE BLACK WAS TWO when she first met Grandmère and Atlas. Aurors had just surrounded her house and brought her to her only living family, which was Grandmère. "She has the Black Family's beauty," Grandmère remarked as soon as the Aurors brought Este to her, Walburga's eyes softened, "Very well, I shall take care of her and Atlas." and when she was brought home to Grimmauld Place, Grandmère made a promise to her, "I promise, Estele. You will never turn out to be like your father. Never."

Este Black was three, sitting in front of Grandmère. Grandmère brushed her long silky black hair and straightened Atlas' Prussian Blue tie. "My little angels," Grandmère murmured with pride, "You will do well──you both will live long and prosperous lives. Unlike your fathers."

Este Black was turning four, looking at the tapestry at Grimmauld Place, she pointed at a burn mark. "Grandmère, was this father?" she asked, her youthful voice lamentable and yet still inquisitive.

Grandmère sneered, "He is not your father." Este knew she meant it in a different way ── Este knew she was his blood, his flesh. "He is not my son, nor is he your father. He is just a waste of my blood and flesh. He abandoned this family for those pathetic Potters. And then he sold them out! Ha! The Irony. Then he murdered thirteen muggles and one of his closest friends! Pathetic! You are never to mention him again. Do you understand me, Estele?"

Este nodded, "Yes, Grandmère."

Este was five and was enrolled in ballet and piano. For the small group of girls growing up within the Wizarding World's most elite, life followed a prescribed order: Beginning at age five, you would begin learning about magic, and would be taught by an elite group of governesses, followed on the weekends by piano, violin, flute, ballet, or riding, and some sort of social activity.

Then, at eleven you would go to Hogwarts where you would be expected to attain perfect grades and be made prefect and head girl. After graduating with honors (anything less would bring shame to the family), you debuted into high society and searched around before marrying a boy from a suitable family at the age of twenty.

At this point, you gave up your career to have children (three or more were officially encouraged by the government for women of your background, and at least two should be boys), and life would consist of a gentle rotation of galas, country clubs, light volunteer work, contract bridge, gambling, traveling, and spending time with your grandchildren (dozens and dozens, hopefully) until your quiet and uneventful death.

Este was six and was ready to change everything, she was no rebel because to call her rebel would mean that she was going against the rules, she simply made her own rules, and through the confluence of her particular circumstances—a substantial private income, an overindulgent grandmère, and her own savoir-faire — every move she made was breathlessly talked about and scrutinized within that claustrophobic circle.

Este returned from a trip to Paris with a precociously sophisticated sense of style. While other girls in her set became mad for head-to-toe designer brands, Este was the first to pair a vintage Twilfit and Tattings robe with four galleon sandals she bought from a Diagon Alley vendor.

Este was seven and was beginning to her name. Estele. Estele. Estele. A rotten name for a rotten girl, she thought bitterly. And ever since then, she became Este. Este. Este. A slightly less rotten name for a rotting girl. She was also beginning to despise her Grandmère, and she began to see why her father turned so wicked. But Grandmère had the money and the connections. So Este stayed, waiting patiently, listening to Grandmère's manic episodes, and taking care of her as her body began to weaken.

Este was eight when Grandmère died peacefully in her sleep. Merciful, Este thought, the heavens allowing her Grandmère to leave so quietly and painlessly when Grandmère had sinned so much. As she sifted through the racks, trying to find a suitable black dress to wear, it suddenly, rather comically, occurred to her that the money she had spent on the couture outfits in this room alone could have paid for a house three times the size of this one. She wondered what the Hogwarts students might think if they knew actually how many properties she already owned.

At the end of her life, Grandmère bought her grandchildren houses in a way that other parents might buy their candy bars. Over the years, they had purchased so many houses for her that by the time she would become an adolescent, she was already in possession of a staggering real estate portfolio. There was the bungalow off in Knightsbridge, the house in Mayfair and the semidetached on Hyde Park, a row of historic shophouses in Central London left to her by a great-aunt on her mother's side, and numerous other luxury condominiums scattered throughout the country.

And that was just in England. There were land holdings in France, Italy, and almost every country in Europe. Quite frankly, Este didn't even bother trying to remember all of it; there were too many properties to keep track of. It was all quite meaningless anyway since aside from the shophouses in central London, none of the properties was truly hers—yet. This was all part of Grandmère's wealth-succession strategy, and Este knew that as long as Grandmère was alive, she had no real control over the properties, though she benefited from the income derived from them. And twice a year, when the family sat down with their business managers at Black Holdings, she would notice that her personal accounts always increased in value, sometimes to an absurd degree, no matter how many couture dresses she had splurged on the previous season.

"Today we gather to grief for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black's Matriarch, Walburga Irma Black. She was a loving mother, grandmother, and powerful woman. Today, Walburga's only granddaughter Estele Black will speak," Este sucked in a breath and slowly walked to the front. She placed her hands on her podium and ignored how much they shook.

"My Grandmother was a wonderful woman. She had taken me in after──" Este paused, "My father was arrested. She had raised me, and even after the heart-wrenching betrayal that my father had displayed, she had cared for me. She raised me, always trying to make me better, and teaching me everything I know. Grandmère was a great woman, and my life will never be the same without her," Este said, people, clapped as she returned to her seat.

She watched as her grandmother's body was lowered to the ground. Atlas Black sat next to her, he and their Grandmère weren't as close as she and Este had been, Atlas spent most of his time in Paris with au pairs and English nannies. And by the end of the day, Walburga Black was six feet under.

At the Ministry of Magic, specifically at Level Five ──── where the department of International Magical Co-operation operated there was a private Law Firm, The Wizarding Law Firm of Purebloods, a small law firm that kept an exceedingly low profile but was undoubtedly one of the most influential legal powerhouses in the wizarding wolrd. The firm almost exclusively represented the Wizarding World's establishment families and did not take on new clients—one had to be specially recommended.

Today, the glowing mahogany-and-glass reception counter had been given an extra polish, fresh-cut roses bloomed in the guest toilets, and every member of the staff had been told to dress in their smartest outfits. At around fifteen minutes to ten, the elevator doors began to work overtime as the descendants of Walburga Irma Black started to arrive en masse. The Malfoys, and their ward, Mattheo Riddle showed up first. And then, the Black cousins made their entrance. Este sat down next to Mattheo who asked, "You okay?" he could always sense whenever things weren't right with his cousin.

Este smiled, trying to reassure him. "I'm fine. I just didn't get enough sleep last night, that's all."

"I haven't been sleeping much either. My Au pair thinks my body's just catching up to the grief, but it all still feels like some bizarre dream," Atlas said. As he made that comment, the grandfather clock in the lobby began to chime ten Cathleen Bulstrode, came out into the reception area to greet the family.

Cathleen shepherded everyone down the corridor and through the double doors into the main conference room. A massive dark oak table dominated the room, placed in front of the bank of windows framing a panoramic view of the bay. Sitting at one end of the table was Freddie Tavers, Walburga's longtime lawyer, having coffee. "Good morning, everyone," Freddie said jovially. "Please make yourselves comfortable."

Everyone took their seats around the table, clustered more or less in their family units, except for Atlas, who positioned himself at the head of the table like an asshole. "That was quite the send-off yesterday, wasn't it? Draco, I never knew you could sing like that," Freddie remarked.

"Thank you, Freddie. Shall we begin?" Lucius eagerly suggested.

Freddie looked around at the anxiously assembled group and decided it was time to put them out of their misery. "Well, we all know why we're here, so let's get on with it."

Narcissa smiled pensively, while Lucius leaned back in his chair. Atlas peered down at the sumptuously lacquered wood grain, wondering whether the table had been made by David Linley. Mattheo winked at Este seated next from him, and Este smiled back.

Freddie pressed a button on the telephone next to him. "Flint, you can bring it in now." An assistant, nattily dressed in a red sweater vest and striped tie, entered the room, ceremoniously holding an oversize parchment envelope folder. The assistant placed the folder on the table next to Freddie and then handed him a horn-handled letter opener. Everyone could see Walburga's personal wax seal on the envelope flap. Freddie took the letter opener and dramatically flicked the blade underneath the bloodred wax. Lucius inhaled audibly. Freddie carefully slid out a legal-size document from the envelope, held it up to the room so everyone could clearly see what it was, and then he began to read:

I, Walburga Irma Black of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, revoke all former wills and testamentary dispositions heretofore made by me and declare this to be my last Will.

1. Appointment of Executors. I appoint my grandchildren, Atlas and Estele Black to be the Executors of my Will.

2. Specific Cash Legacies.I direct my Residuary Estate to execute payment on the following legacies:
a. 25,000,000 galleons to, Draco Malfoy
b. 30,000,000 galleons to Mattheo Riddle
c. the rest of the Black Family's cash assets will be equally divided between Atlas and Este Black.

3. Specific Legacies of Personal Property.
a. I direct that my jewelry collection be given and distributed according to the detailed list in Appendix A of this my Last Will and Testament, and as labeled in my vault at Gringotts.

b. I direct that all artwork, antiques, and other household goods not specifically gifted by my Will be distributed equally among my surviving descendants by my executors in as nearly equal portions as may be practicable, with the exception of the following:
i. To my loving grandson, Atlas Black, I bequeath all objects in 12 Grimmauld Place belonging to his grandfather, Sir Orion Black and his father, Sir Regulus Black.

ii. To my devoted nephew-in-law Lucius Malfoy, I bequeath a pair of Asprey sapphire-and-platinum cuff links, gifted to my husband Sir Orion Black on our golden anniversary. Orion was far too modest to wear the cuff links, but I know Lucius will not be so bashful.
iii. To my dear niece Narcissa Malfoy, I bequeath all objects in 12 Grimmauld Place belonging to her mother, Lady Druella Black.
iv. To my cherished granddaughter, Estele Black, whom in every way takes after my mother's style, I bequeath my collection of gowns, vintage textiles, hats, and accessories and I bequeath all of the items on my vantiy, which i know she has loved since she was a little girl

4. Legacy of Historical Archives, Photographs, Documents, Personal Letters, and Ephemera. I bequeath ownership and all copyrights and intellectual property rights of my personal archive at 12 Grimmauld Place, including all family photographs, letters, journals, and documents to my dearest granddaughter, Estele Black, the noted historian of our family.

5. Legacies of Real Property.

a. I give and bequeath my property, Il palazzo nero in MILAN, Italy, and all the contents within this eighty-acre estate to my dear grandson Atlas Black.

b. I give and bequeath my property, La Casa Nera in ROME, Italy, and all the contents within the seventy-five-acre estate to my granddaughter, Estele Black

c. I give and bequeath my property, La Tenuta Nera in SICILY, Italy, and all of the contents within the three-hundred-acre estate to my grandson and granddaughter Atlas and Estele Black

d. I give and bequeath my property, La Maison Noire in SAINT-ÉMILION BORDEAUX, France, and all the contents within this five-hundred-acre estate to my grandson Atlas and my granddaughter Estele Black in equal shares

e. I give and bequeath my property, La résidence noire in PARIS, France and all the contents within this ninety-acre estate to my beloved granddaughter Estele Black

f. I give and bequeath my property, The Black Lodgings in THE ALPS, Swizterland and all the continents within this twenty-acre estate to my granddaughter, Estele Black

g. I give and bequeath my property, Το Μαύρο Κτήμα in SANTORINI, Greece, and all of the contents within the two-acre estate to my granddaughter, Estele Black.

h. I give and bequeath my property, Το Μαύρο Σπίτι in ATHENS, Greece, and all of the contents within the five-acre estate to my grandson Atlas Black

i. I give and bequeath my property, the Black Estate in CAMBRIDGE, England, and all of the contents within the seven-hundred-acre estate to Atlas Black.

j. I give and bequeath my property, Das schwarze Anwesen in VIENNA, Austria, and all of the contents within the five-hundred-acre estate to Estele Black

k. I give and bequeath my property, La Maison monégasque du noire in MONTE CARLO, Monaco, and all of the contents within the two-hundred-acre estate to Estele Black

l. i give and bequeath my island near CROATIA, and all of the contents within the six-hundred-acre island to my grandson, Atlas Black.

m. I give and bequeath Number 12 Grimmauld Place to Estele Black.

SIGNED by WALBURGA IRMA BLACK.

The Black family was not born as monsters, they are created by Walburga Black. Carefully curating the vilest monsters that walked the earth, and her newest creation: Este Black──a girl with such a macabre deposition in life that maybe Este Black really was Walburga's true masterpiece. This was how Monsters were made.