Harry Potter: The Last Heiress of The White Family

The ballroom was at its height—music swelling, wizards and witches dancing under golden chandeliers, laughter and murmurs echoing across the ornate chamber. In the midst of this lively grandeur, the Minister of Magic, Fudge , stood upon the podium. With a charming smile and a theatrical wave, he called for attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, voice ringing across the ballroom, "thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight. I am grateful for your continued support and honored to serve in my first year as Minister for Magic. I especially call upon our esteemed pureblood families to aid this journey—through wisdom, guidance, and yes, generous donations."

He gestured graciously. "There are new projects in the works—initiatives that will secure a brighter future for the British Wizarding World. Your support is not just requested; it is vital."

Murmurs of approval and a few polite claps followed, though most seemed to be listening with polite detachment. That was, until Elijah White, the Lord of the ancient White family, rose from his seat.

The ballroom quieted.

Elijah walked with regal calm toward the podium. The Minister stepped back to make space, nodding respectfully.

Elijah turned to the crowd and said, voice clear and steady, "As the Lord of the White Family, a family which has supported the Ministry since its founding, I stand here tonight to reaffirm our loyalty. I believe the projects presented by Minister Fudge are visionary and necessary—and the White family will offer its full support."

He paused.

"But that is not the only reason I speak tonight."

All eyes were upon him now.

"For more than a decade," Elijah continued, "since the loss of my son, Damien White, our house has lacked an heir. And tonight, I will end that uncertainty."

Whispers immediately broke out across the ballroom. Eyes darted toward Cecile White, seated quietly below. His sharp features, tall frame, and cold composure seemed to mark him as the obvious choice.

But Elijah's next words shattered that expectation.

"I name my granddaughter, Eira White, as the heiress of the White family."

A stunned silence followed.

Then, Minister Fudge began to clap—perhaps to ease the awkwardness—prompting others to follow with hesitant applause.

In the shadows of the gallery, murmurs turned sharp.

"Why not Cecile White?" one whispered. "He's male—suited for politics. And charming, too."

"She doesn't even resemble Damien," another whispered. "Is she really his daughter?"

More than one pureblood matron whispered behind fans, assessing Eira as if she were a crown jewel. Others whispered greedily about alliances, dowries, and how marrying into the White family now meant acquiring their fortune across Britain and France.

Among them, Lucius Malfoy leaned in to speak to his wife.

"This is an opportunity, Narcissa. For Draco and for the Malfoys."

Narcissa nodded. "Don't worry. I will make her my daughter-in-law. Elijah and I have a strong rapport. We'll invite her over. Ease her into Draco's company. Let them become friends first."

Lucius gave a rare smile. "That's wise. But we'll need to move quickly. Do you see the other families? Like hyenas. They know she's the key to the empire that has been standing for centuries. Her husband will be the next Lord of House White."

Narcissa smiled fondly at her son. "No girl will reject my Draco. He's the most handsome boy amongst all the boys of pure blood families ."

Meanwhile, Eira stood gracefully among the approaching guests. Her smile was polite, her manner elegant, but inwardly, she was swirling with questions.

Why now? Why did Grandfather name me heir and announce it to others ? I thought he just said it to me and uncle so we know about, I didn't think he would announce it to the public,Why not Uncle Cecile?

She would ask.

As the evening came to an end and the guests began to depart, Elijah approached her.

"Let's go, Eira."

She followed him out, glancing over her shoulder. "Where's Uncle?"

"He won't be returning with us," Elijah replied, simply.

She hesitated but didn't press further.

They entered the same grand carriage that had brought them to the Ministry, Inside, Eira sat across from her grandfather, watching him carefully.

Elijah gazed out the window, as though lost in thought.

"You have a question," he said quietly. "Go on. Ask it."

Eira hesitated, then found her voice. "Why did you choose me, Grandfather? Why not Uncle? I don't think this is just about… his preferences in partners ."

Elijah smiled faintly. "I was waiting for you to ask that. There are several reasons."

He turned to her fully now. "First—you are the last true descendant of the White family."

Eira blinked. "What do you mean? Uncle is still—"

Elijah's voice cut through. "From our first ancestor, the White family line has passed from parent to a single child. Always one heir. Not like the Blacks with their sprawling branches. One child. One heir. One bloodline."

"But—my father was alive," she said. "And Uncle—Cecile—he's alive."

Elijah's eyes gleamed.

"That's something you must think through yourself. Why I chose Damien as heir, though he was… flawed. Why I denied Cecile. Think, Eira ."

She did.

Her mind raced. One child per generation… Damien was heir… but Cecile…

Her eyes widened. "He's not my uncle."

Elijah gave a pleased smirk. "You have a sharp mind. Yes. Cecile is not of our blood."

"Then why does he bear our name? Why is he called White?"

Elijah's voice was quiet now, dark with memory. "Your grandmother had an affair. Cecile was the result. That is why."

The carriage seemed to grow colder.

"You're telling me this?" Eira whispered. "Isn't this… too much?"

"You're no longer a child," Elijah said. "Tonight you were named heiress . You must know the truth. I won't repeat my mistake like I did it with Damien. I left him blind to too much. Look what became of him."

Eira nodded slowly, absorbing it all. "Does Uncle… Cecile… know?"

"No. He does not."

"Why haven't you told him?"

Elijah's voice dropped to a low, icy growl. "It is my revenge."

A shiver ran through Eira's spine. For the first time, she saw something ruthless—inhuman—in her grandfather's eyes.

"You've never heard anything about your grandmother, have you?" Elijah asked. "Do you know what I did when I discovered the affair?"

He didn't wait for her answer.

"I killed them. Both of them."

Eira's hands trembled, but she quickly used Occlumency to lock away her emotions, mask her fear.

Elijah looked out the window again. "But I couldn't bring myself to kill the child. I tried to send him away. Out of Britain. But I was never satisfied. So I kept him close. I made his life hard. Unbearable."

"You've been tormenting him," Eira said quietly.

"Yes," Elijah admitted. "He was fifteen when I learned the truth. Until then, I raised him like my own. But once I knew… everything changed."

There was a long, heavy silence.

Then Elijah turned to her again.

"What do you think of me now, Eira? Do you think I'm evil? Are you afraid?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I'm not experienced enough to judge."

But Elijah shook his head. "Don't lie to yourself. You do know. You understand more than you admit. That's why I chose you. You're sharp. You see the game."

He leaned forward. "This family so powerful to the outside world—has been broken inside for a long while now . You will rebuild it. Make it stronger than ever before. You are the key , You will be the rebirth of this family ."

He smiled faintly. "And another reason I chose you… is your appearance."

Eira blinked. "My appearance?"

"Your white hair. Your green eyes. They're not just anomalies. They're a sign."

He paused, then said, "Our founder—the first of the White line—was a woman. A powerful witch, said to rival even the Four Founders of Hogwarts. She had snow-white hair and emerald eyes. It's rare, but once every few generations, a child is born with those same features. And when that happens… the current Lord, who holds the family's deepest secrets, will choose that child without hesitation. The moment they come of age, the title of Lord is passed to them."

Eira tilted her head and asked curiously, "The first founder of the family was a woman?"

Elijah nodded without hesitation. "Of course she was. A woman of unmatched power."

Eira frowned, her voice tinged with confusion. "But… didn't Uncle say that there hasn't been a woman as head of the family for centuries? I looked into it myself—all of the recorded Lords of the White family have been men."

Elijah gave a small, knowing smile. "Yes, that's what the records say. But the truth is far more complicated. Whenever a girl was chosen as the heir, it was always her husband who was publicly named Lord of the family. Only the very first head of our line—a woman whose name has been kept secret by her own will—was ever openly acknowledged."

"Kept secret?" Eira echoed, eyes narrowing.

Elijah leaned back slightly, his voice quieter. "Yes. It was her decision. She believed her name and identity should be known only to those who bear the title of Lord and their chosen heirs. No more than that. To the world, every Lord of the White family has appeared to be a man. But behind the scenes, there were times when the true leader was a woman. Her husband merely served as a symbolic figure, while the real authority rested with the rightful heir the one born with the White bloodline."

Eira's brows drew together. "But… why go to such lengths to hide it? Why stay in the shadows at all? Why not just proclaim themselves openly?"

Elijah's expression darkened slightly. "Because for centuries, society clung to the belief that women couldn't lead. That they were unfit to hold power, especially within the sacred houses."

"But what about Rowena Ravenclaw? Helga Hufflepuff?" Eira asked, her tone was laced with frustration. "They were founders of Hogwarts! Brilliant witches, respected for centuries! Doesn't that count for anything?"

Elijah smiled again, this time more bittersweet. "They are respected, yes. But only as founders—as educators who helped build a school. Not as political leaders. Not as rulers of bloodlines or defenders of ancient magic. They are admired… but never feared. Never truly given the authority they deserved."

Eira looked at him, eyes sharp with dawning realization. "So all this time… just because of outdated beliefs, powerful women had to hide behind their husbands. Let them wear the title while they ruled from the shadows."

"That is the unfortunate truth," Elijah said quietly. "In public, the husband was always seen as the one holding power. But within the walls of this house, the real Lord was the one with White blood flowing through her veins."

Eira stared, awed. "Did Father know?"

"No. I never gave him access to the vaults or the scrolls. I didn't trust him."

"But why are you telling me? I've only just been named heir."

"Because you will be the next Lord of this family. I will prepare you. Teach you leadership, politics, power. You will not inherit this family blindly."

Eira's mind reeled.

So many truths.

So many burdens no ten-year-old should carry.

She thought of her mother—how she had suffered scorn and shame. How the secrecy of the family had allowed it.

If Damien had known… maybe things would have been different.

Her mother might have been spared from the torment of being shamed , accused of being unfaithful, all of it would have been avoided if her father knew these secrets .

Elijah watched her quietly.

"I'm telling you all this," he said, "so you understand what's coming. I've lived through pain, dishonor, betrayal. I raised the child of the man who slept with my wife. I buried my son. I rebuilt what was broken but I don't want this house to end like the Blacks. Lost. Forgotten."

He placed a hand over hers.

"Respect this family. Honor its legacy. And when the time comes—lead it into a new age."