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Chapter Text

A Deadly Virus spread through the lands and took away millions with it, He was an unfortunate one of them. He was a professional Chess player and a Lawyer in his previous life or first life as he was calling it now. In his last fortnight alive he sorted out his affairs and re-read his favourite books. He had time for once in many years but no energy to move around.

He spent my last days on his laptop talking to his family, relatives, and friends as he was in another country with travel Banned and couldn't visit them in their home countries. He didn't tell them about his impending death but He could see his lovely mother getting an inkling of what was happening, he just signed everything he had to his parents after he paid his hospital bills and for his cremation cost as well. In the last days of his life, he couldn't rest properly so he mostly passed away when his body felt too tired. He was in a quarantined hotel room with room service and medical staff on call, He had declined to die in a stuffy hospital and rented a nice room for himself.

Well to do people were asked to pay their bills beforehand as most people couldn't afford and the government was struggling. Well, He was struck in some better African country while dying while he was doing a mini chess tour. Still, even the slow connection of the internet made it possible to sort out his affairs easily.

To pass time, He read and reread, his childhood favourite, the thing he bonded over with his father, The magnificent Harry Potter series and then further read stuff on wiki and Pottermore and fanfictions to pass time. He didn't want to start something new and the Harry Potter series was what He grew up with. His love for it never dulled or faded.

while He was not a particularly very nice person, the most he related to in the series was Albus too many names Dumbledore and he was as manipulative as they came. He was particularly fascinated by all the magic done in books. He didn't waste my time watching movies as he had loved them in childhood but adulthood came with a whole new perspective and he just didn't feel that movies were magical enough to describe that world. He dreamed of what he would do if he had magic and power. How would he change the world, He slept on his last day alive dreaming that.

At just 32 years old, he closed his eyes for the last time on 03/05/2019. He knew he was too young to die but it was what it was. Unmarried and childless, he accepted death with open arms because there was nothing to be done about it.

He was floating in what felt like a void, it was similar to his previous experience in a swimming pool. while his senses didn't work and he wasn't even able to panic as for panicking one needs some sort of body or something. Something. Time stopped making any sense to him. He was only able to think in small sentences in this void. Slowly void started contracting but he still didn't have anything to control.

After more time passed, voices that were not in his head started becoming barely legible, with lots of humming and odd sounds. It made him think that he could only hear something if he had ears and could only think if he possessed a brain, So not so much of a void then. The bubble around him as he referred to it he still cannot see started contracting. At one point he started feeling that void would burst out and one day, He knew it was the day he was reborn, he was dunked under what felt like chilly water and felt his tongue and mouth for the first time in ages.

He screamed, it was instinctive and then he heard something like glass burst. He couldn't open his eyes but then felt a touch on his body and yes it was his body, but the touch felt like it was covering his whole body.

He accepted that he was Reborn or something incredibly similar happened, but where was he? was he the same as before or someone new? Or was he someone he knew? And when and where he was exactly? Was He in plain old Britain or some exotic country or future? As he died in 2019, was he in 2020 or sometime in future? he wanted answers but sweet sleep called him in her arms. answers could wait, sleep couldn't.

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Hello my lovely readers,

Please don't be disappointed by a first short chapter. I am trying to maintain an average of 2k in followings chapters so you won't be disappointed. Do give this fic a chance as I am in this for a long haul. hope to see you along my side in this journey.

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Thankyou again.

Toodles!!

Chapter Text

It was probably a few weeks after he came out of his new mother's womb that he could make somewhat sense of words said by other people again. They were speaking English, but it was not similar to English spoken by where he was from. The words they spoke had a posh twang to them and were spoken as if they were in a period drama. But after enough observation, using his infant intelligence, he deduced that he was still British in some way and yes he was still a male, thankyou very much.

His primary caretaker was an elegant-looking ancient lady who was addressed as Madam Polly by people who visited him on regular basis. Another lady, who was probably his mother tried breastfeeding him in the beginning, but after suffering the humiliation of it in his mind, he started crying every time he saw her trying to feed him that way. He created a racket so huge that she stopped only after trying a few times and then procured an old bottle-like thing with a soft nipple. He was pretty sure it wasn't made of plastic Still, his hunger forced him to suck substance greedily from it every time he was presented with it at regular intervals, or when he cried out of hunger.

The most baffling thing about his existence was a strange creature that assisted my nanny, Madam Polly, in taking care of him and keeping his nursery clean. He started recognizing it was some other creature than a human child when he entered 2nd month of his existence. This creature was called Kint or elf by Madam Polly and it usually snapped its fingers whenever he made a mess in his cloth nappy or general mess, as babies tend to do that a lot, even unknowingly. He wasn't in control of his body, so he felt that he had a solid excuse for making a mess unapologetically.

His nursery where he was kept had a captivating ceiling with glowing stars with constellations on it. He was able to see these formations somewhat clearly when he entered his 4th month of existence. Before that, he could only make out the faces of people who held him close as well as his various toys, which were soft and fluffy and looked like snakes and unicorns. He couldn't understand the concept of time but he could surely tell when Madam Polly called me little master and declared how old he was every week while talking to people visiting him.

One thing was sure, He was not in the world he had left behind. This world had strange servant creatures, old-fashioned cribs, ornate furniture, and heavy bottles not made of plastic and weird clothes. He couldn't forget the white nightgown thing he was forced to wear but who, where, when, why still eluded him.

As he didn't have anything to do, he tried his best to control his body. Be it turning, crawling, babbling, unwanted crying, or anything. It was his primary goal for now. He needed a goal to stay sane and controlling his body on his own seemed a perfect one.

His baby body made him sleep for most of the time, cry other times, or poop and pee whenever it felt like it. His motor functions weren't available to him yet and He couldn't even lift his head, so he started to get lost in his mind. He used to meditate in his old life, while thinking chess moves or deeply thinking about one law or other, so he knew how a person felt when lost in meditation. He felt different while meditating in this tiny baby's body. He felt some sort of current flowing through his body other than his blood. He had never felt that before in his old life, so according to logic, He concluded after observing and feeling a flowing current that it must be in blood or his veins somehow. His blood was full of some sort of power but it was very faint. Only His somewhat adult mind could sense any difference from normal norms. He reached to it subconsciously and it responded back and with the time He started to feel it at his fingertips. It was weird and new and scary and oh so exciting.

Life passed as Madam Polly and the elves took care of him, they cleaned him with a snap of their fingers, fed me with an extremely old-fashioned bottle which didn't mean shit while guessing time, and sang him weird lullabies which didn't make any sense to him. His Nanny did the same in her turn with her stick and a warm feeling usually washed over his body whenever she cleaned him.

His family still visited him daily, the lady he had assumed was his mother usually held him for the longest, while he felt gentle patting of strong hands on his head or his back from a male who accompanied his presumed mother.

Suddenly one day when he was nearing 5 months mark of existence, Madam Polly declared something in happy tones which made him very happy.

"Young Master, today on the vernal equinox, you would be blessed with a name of your own by Head of our house." She declared, cooing at him as he babbled happily at her words and infectious smile.

She cleaned him in warm pleasant water using a gentle cloth with her hands. He could see her using multiple products taken out from glass bottles while bathing him and everything she used smelled wonderful and almost fell asleep multiple times in the bathtub. She then dressed him in a golden white gown, only slightly different from what he was made to wear daily. Both of them didn't stop smiling the whole time.

She took him to a large sitting room filled with lots of people. She gently passed me to the figure he had come to recognize as his new father, purely by speculation and face, He babbled happily at his father, who proudly patted him at his head while holding him gently.

He focused his senses on deducing what was going on, his hearing was developed enough to listen and discern what was happening, so when his father passed him to the older man, who had visited him multiple times in past, I immediately connected dots. This was his grandfather most probably, as well as the head of the house, as referred to by Madam Polly.

"How's the child, Madam Hector? Is he healthy enough for the naming ceremony?" The man who held him, still not sure about him being his grandfather asked.

"Young Master is developing nicely with a strong set of lungs whenever something displeases him, He is most defiantly healthy for the ceremony My Lord." She replied sounding proud of his accomplishments which amounted to crying and pooping till now.

"Good, we don't expect anything less from the future head of our family. Let the ceremony begin." Grandfather? said and then took him outside with everyone following excitedly. He was slightly afraid now, they were not going to kill him, right? right?. what kind of world was this, he could have been given a simple name in his room, what was all this pomp and ceremony stuff happening!! he was confused but remained silent for now.

As the cool air of March touched him for the first time, he felt free after so long. He felt tears welling up in his eyes but then controlled them with a lot of effort. He didn't want to miss out on what was going to happen to him.

He was laid down on soft squishy stone? he couldn't describe the sensation of it as it was very weird, as if somehow the hard stone was softened.

He tried to sit up and managed to roll over and get in a position from where he was able to see what other people were doing. He saw about 3 people, which included his grandfather, his father and a lady who had previously visited him multiple times but wasn't his mother. they were standing in a triangle formation around him as he turned his head to look closely, rest of the people moved away to the back. All 3 of them pointed their sticks at him, which made him panic for a moment but then he heard the start of what was like a song.

Everyone was speaking together in low melodic tones while 3 of them sent different coloured lights at me. He felt different types of energies trying to enter his body and closed his eyes instinctively. these energies were powering his own energy which he had felt previously in his body and Even with closed eyes, he could make out bright lights bathing him. Green, Silver and bronze. these lights made him feel good and he didn't want this to end ever.

After what felt like an eternity, the chanting stopped. He didn't cry even once during the whole procedure, even when he had felt sensation overload in his body. His probable grandfather picked him in his strong arms and carried him indoors.

when everything following him were standing in circle around him, his grandfather said in a serious voice, "I declare him, Sirius Rigel Black, firstborn son of the black family born on 21st day of 10th month of the year 1845, 2nd in a line of succession to the dukedom of Newcastle and son of Lord Cygnus black of Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black and Lady Ella Black nee Max of Noble house of Max, on 20th day of 3rd month of 1846. On this Pious occasion of the vernal equinox, May Mother Gaia's blessing always be with our son."

With that, he touched newly dubbed Sirius's cheeks with his slightly cold fingers and Sirius finally burst out into tears. Loudly.

Chapter Text

He was a Black of Most Ancient and Most noble house of Black, he remembered reading about this stuff in what was called the Harry Potter series in his old life. heck, he died reading those books, but this! This was unbelievable.  Nope, No, Nada. This was not happening with him. someone up there was messing with him.

Now it just clicked into his mind, the strange creature, old nanny, weird clothing, different furniture, snapping of fingers, waving a stick, which was probably a wand, He was in the old-fashioned world of Harry-Potter. It was all Magic. He started crying, loudly with that line of thinking.

His grandfather who was holding him was startled for all a second then he expertly held him in his hands and made soothing sounds. But He couldn't stop crying. Then his mother took him from his grandfather's hands to take him somewhere a bit quieter.

It was all just too much, it all felt like the universe was playing with him.

His name was Sirius black by some fates, and not even the Sirius he had read about in harry potter books, if he heard the man correctly, he was in 1846, not even his century let alone decade.

He tried thinking about his previous life and felt those thoughts slipping away from his mind. He held onto them loosely then, just remembering little tidbits, the cycle he rode in the street of his childhood home, newspaper read daily in-home in the soothing voice of his father, writing with a pencil on paper, he couldn't grasp or guess what was his name in last life. he hadn't thought about his old name in the last few months and it was now out of his reach.

He mourned his loss of life. While he was crying, he felt something cold touch his face and saw his mother collecting his tears, a large hand was holding a small glass bottle and his tears were flowing into it. He would never understand this world. He mourned the loss of his lovely mother, his lovely mother who he had loved dearly till last dying breath, whose name he couldn't remember now but her smile was erected in his memories, whose fragrance he could still feel tickling at his nose.

He mourned for his lost life and family for the first time properly as the new reality settled in his very bones with the repeat utterance of his name via the lips of his mother. Hearing my non-stop crying and thinking that he was hungry, his nanny summoned his milk bottle. he drifted to sleep, As his mother and nanny chatted among themselves.

After a few days of mourning, He decided to move on. He was in the world of magic, and he had magic in his veins. He didn't want to lose what precious memories of his last life were left with him so he didn't think hard about them, he would find a method to save them later, probably when he was able to write.

After a few months as he became consciously verbal and his education started. He worked on his body, trying his best to control it, and he was rewarded for his efforts with words of encouragement from his new family. They had high expectations from him, and his conscious mind was able to understand the gist of their conversations as they talked around him.

The household was going to host a Samhain ball shortly after he turned 1. Preparations started as early as in August and his nanny was kind enough to tell him all about them as they happened, if he was any other baby, he couldn't possibly understand what she was saying, but he had a conscious mind so any information was precious to him. Still, she loved talking to him and he found delight in hearing about anything from her.

Everyone in the family was busy due to preparations for the ball but still, when he started speaking in small words, his parents took time to spend with him. His ever-present nanny started him on disgusting mushy food sometime in middle and he developed new hate for boiled food. he passionately hated this flavourless boiled food.

He also started walking fairly early by baby's standard at just 2 months before his 1st birthday, so he was happy with having some control over his movements. His nanny produced a flying carpet when he started standing up with support and set him on it while he learned to walk. It hovered a bit off ground but it didn't let me fall. He felt like he was in Aladdin's world, It moved around o its own and he started to crawl and stand up on it using a hell of a lot of determination. He learned to walk on a flying carpet and how cool was that.

Soon his 1st birth anniversary came, and he was presented to the family at breakfast time. There was some kind of special breakfast going on in maybe happiness of me turning one, but what do he a baby knew.

Not everything was sunshine and roses, His grandfather extracted some blood after pinching his thumb with a needle carefully and stored it in a glass vial. Nobody said anything as if it was not worth mentioning. He involuntarily cried at the pinching sensation but after sucking his healed thumb a bit, it was sent to the back of his mind.

As 31st October came around, the huge place he lived in was shining and decked with decorations for the ball. Even he was fitted in some sort of green and silver lacy gown thing. Surely Slytherin colours. Doctrine into becoming perfect little heir started early in this family.

When He was presented at the ball in the arms of his mother who was wearing an elegant gown with tasteful jewellery accompanied by his proud looking father and grandfather who were decked in royal-looking clothes, He smiled at everyone and didn't cry even once that day. It was a personal achievement for him in his new body, as it was so sensitive that tears came even at smallest discomforts.

He spoke the few words out of his small vocabulary frequently and laughed silly at all the funny people he saw there. Some people looked beyond funny in what were old-fashioned costumes according to him but the height of fashion according to them. Finding joy in little things prevented him from going insane in this restricted body.

According to his nanny, the ball was a success. He wasn't the only kid present there but he was the only one under the age of 7. As this ball was in his honor sort off or something like that. It was still hard to understand posh and old English his nanny spoke in. still he was a baby; he didn't need to concern himself with these things.

Chapter Text

It was after Sirius's first yule and into the beginning of 1847, which was celebrated with festive joy in the Black household, when he started speaking in legible sentences. He finally got enough control over his tongue to produce the sounds. His family was happy with his progress as he was a fast-developing baby according to the Ancient Madam Polly, ( He finally got to know that she was over 100 years old and oldest in their household and thus commanded respect from even his illustrious grandfather who was raised in her arms when she was young), she liked boasting about Sirius during the meals, which everyone indulged with smiles. Sirius got to know about her proud boasting when he was allowed to partake with family in a few meals.

His father and mother were always proud of his progress, and they even started getting more involved in his upbringing.

It was a sunny day week in march, and his emotions were all over the place. He was feeling cooped up in this room, which was not small by any means, but it was still 4 walls that made him angry for some reason right now. He wanted to feel free, he wanted to breathe in the fresh air.

His teeth were growing all the time for the last few months, and they hurt a lot. His nanny gave him something to soothe them, but he was still irritated.

One day he got so frustrated that a dam burst within him,. the same dam he had tried so hard to control over months and everything in his nursery started shaking.

Elves had a hard time controlling chandelier from falling over him and only quick thinking of the nanny, who scooped him up at the end moment saved him from becoming a human pancake.

Such close brush to death or severe harm hadn't happened to him ever. Even in his last life, He was a fairly sheltered child who didn't get into fights. Even his death was peaceful and he had accepted it. This was something that had never happened before. He had never felt such anger, moreover on such a small matter like not being able to go out.

While He was panicking and bawling uncontrollably, Madam Polly tried her best to soothe him.

"Shh young master, everything would be alright." Madam Polly said rubbing his back.

He was still crying, when he screamed, "Go out. Go out. Out."

He needed fresh air desperately.

He murmured these words again and again while big fat tears were flowing from his eyes and his nose was full of snot. He could hear elves faintly trying to repair his nursery.

"Shh, we would go out Sirius, we don't have to stay here…." Madam Polly uttered reassuringly. She said a few more things while walking outside still holding Sirius.

They met his mother, and the lady of the house on the way out and as she saw his tear-streaked face, she took him from  the arms of Madam Polly.

"What happened Madam Hector? Is Sirius alright?" She asked in a concerned voice while patting his back comforting manner and kissing his forehead.

"Oh, don't worry Lady Black, the little tyke just wanted fresh air and his magic helped him in causing havoc in his nursery. I was just taking him out in the garden." She replied quite happily.

"Did you say his magic? Are you saying that my son just had his first magic riot Madam?" His mother asked with disbelief in her voice.

His new mother's scent was soothing so he started feeling calm in her arms, He quieted down with difficulty just in time to follow their conversation.

"Indeed! And what a strong riot it was. He almost destroyed his room today. Looks like Little Lord Black outgrew his nursery quite earlier than his father, aunts, and grandfather." Madam Polly said happily, and His mother hugged him tightly after hearing that.

He contently breathed in her sweet scent.

"Oh, my son, such strong magic you have. Mother is so proud of you. I can't wait to tell your father about this." She cooed at him lovingly and seeing her smile loosened something in his tightly wounded heart.

He babbled finally happy, realizing what had occurred during his fit, "mum, mum, Me magic."

She looked at him proudly while founding his reaction adorable and took him outside on her own, while Madam Polly left to probably salvage what was left of the nursery.

He finally felt calm in the fresh air and when his mother took him in the air over the forest near their home, which was more of a castle on a flying carpet, He felt like he was in heaven.

That night after dinner Grandfather, Father, and mother watched Madam Polly's memory of Sirius's first magical riot and came out of the pensive with proud faces.

He listened to everything about the incident when Madam Polly told him about it the next day still smiling proudly in a new room where he didn't have to sleep in a crib and had a proper bed, which still had barriers but no longer a crib, yay, upgrade!

Letters were sent to His uncles and aunts bearing good news that the black family heir was certainly magical. There was no fear of Sirius being a squib in their eyes now.

He felt this kind of conditional love was toxic but was bound with circumstances for now.

Almost a week later, He was taken to an intimate family celebration, where Madam Polly made him sit in a highchair adjacent to his similarly-aged cousin, who was probably a few months older than him but not as disciplined, this didn't allow him to move and she gave them a bowls of mushy flavorless food. Sirius ate it resigned while keeping his ears trained towards the conversation happening during the meal.

It was a joyous day in the Black family household, both his mother and his aunt, Lady Laila Abbot had news to share with family. He peeked a glance at his father and saw him looking extra proud for some reason while he was talking with his uncle Lord Matthew Abbot in a hushed voice. His aunt Ailya looked a bit stoic for some reason, which he had observed only because she loved him a lot and didn't hide her emotions from him in private when she was alone with him.

His cousin Stephen, the second son of his aunt Laila was throwing mashed potatoes at him when Madam Polly finally had enough of his disobedience and sent a spell at Stephen, which made him calm instantly.

Everyone including Sirius was busy listening to his father and Uncle Matthew announcing that they were to become Fathers once more that year and increase the family.

After the happy news, while everyone was celebrating except his older Cousin, 6 years old Lawrence, first son of Aunt Laila, was sulking for some reason or other from the beginning of the meal, He peeked a glance at his sweet aunt Ailya, she looked happy on outside congratulating and teasing her sister and sister-in-law while hiding her pain behind a mask.

He couldn't see her sad, so he cried for attention and reached out for her, pretending to sob for his auntie Ally, she happily took me in her arms, but his crying made his cousin Stephen cry as well and most adults of the family dispersed leaving crying babies with their caretaker to the sitting room for after-meal tea.

Auntie Ally as he called her was the sweetest woman he knew, even more, caring than his mother and Nanny, he vowed to make her happy in the future and fulfil her wish of having a child of her own.

They were taken to a playroom near the dining chamber after that, where Madam Polly minded them, while aunt ally left to join the adults.

Chapter Text

It was the 14th day of September, the year 1847; when Sirius met his newborn brother for the first time and fell in love with his tiny chubby face.

"What is his name Mother?" He asked his mother as he played with the tiny fingers of his brother. his hand was half the size of his hand.

"He hasn't been granted a name yet son; you can call him little brother for now." His Mother explained patiently.

"You are his big brother son; your duty is to protect and guide him," His Father chimed in, looking at both of them proudly, gazing at the newborn babe with adoration.

"Oh, when can I play with him?" Sirius asked as he couldn't wait to bond with his brother. He was an only child in his previous life so he was beyond happy to have a sibling in this one. Only after asking this question, he realized that he did possess an adult brain and it seemed like his lack of instincts was hampering his mind on some level.

"He is too little right now, perhaps when he is older and at least walking." His mother said and then she promptly kicked Sirius and his father out as the baby had started crying, probably because of hunger or noise.

Sirius was a bit sad hearing that, but his rational mind knew that tiny babies were fragile. He had to be patient as he had been with his progress. He had only started running properly a few months prior, that too after begging Madam Polly and his mother. They usually laced him with so many safety charms like he was fragile china. he wasn't even allowed a broom yet, his father had said 'when you're older, for now, use flying carpet' and then had dismissed his request for the broom.

He kept coming back to spend time with his little brother every day, he loved spending time with his adorable brother, who had looked mashed potato at the beginning but as days passed he had grown quickly and was resembling a proper baby now. His brother had a different nanny, a pretty young Miss Clara Allen. She was just 20 years old and followed Madam Polly's Strict directions.

As Sirius turned 2, His education started properly. Sensing his intelligence and great interest in learning, Madam Polly, who was his governess as well, didn't hold back in her teachings.

She started him on alphabets, numbers, words and basic things until he had somewhat grasp on his tongue while speaking then she started all that again in French and Latin. He had groaned for a few days over learning such basic things but when Madam Polly added languages, his interest in learning had renewed. he was learning something new so he paid attention to his lessons then.

She was a knowledgeable teacher, she liked telling tales of ancient times. Little bits of wisdom were always spread in her teachings and his favourite was the recent history of the Black family, which she taught him in small tidbits sprinkled in lessons so he learned something new every day.

Being a toddler again wasn't bad except for his random mood swings and fragile body. While he was an active child, he was prone to accidents, after his magical riot his magic had become active and not having any control over his magic made him moody. His family was patient and usually happy whenever he performed magic but he had an adult conscious damn it and just like his bowel moments in beginning had embarrassed him, his random displays of magic irritated him now. He always had an adult near him. His grandfather had told him that these random magic riots would vastly reduce after his first magical maturity at 7 and completely stop at his second magical maturity at 13.

He wasn't allowed to socialize with people outside his family and their staff right now but he still sneaked into servant quarters to play with their children or elf quarters to learn elven magic by observations. He got to know that his nanny was humouring him by letting him sneak away. He had thought himself so clever but one day he overheard his nanny and Mr Edward Hector, her husband and Black family Head of staff talking among themselves.

"Young Master is growing so fast, he is more mature and cunning than his father and aunts." Madam Polly told her husband Lightly over their evening tea.

"yes, he is a quite mischievous child. Last week he pestered elves in showing him magic almost every day and this week he is playing with the children of our gardener and maids." Mr Edward said taking a sip of his tea.

"yes, I am aware my dear. His magic makes him shed charms like water. It is getting tiresome applying charms on him every day. " Madam Polly said as she sighed exhaustedly.

"You're just getting old my dear. Children his age are always like that." Mr Edward chuckled good-humoredly at his wife of about 80 years.

"Still, I'd have to ask  Lord black for a tracking amulet for the young master. He tends to get into trouble too frequently for my liking." She replied primly deep in thought.

"Ah, yes. Didn't he got stuck in one of the unused bedrooms 2 weeks ago? Lady Black was most displeased with his antics." Mr Edward said chuckling lightly in his teacup now.

"Yes, Lady Black was most displeased and has ordered staff to get rid of all enchantments and dangerous things stored in old unused family rooms." Madam Polly said tiredly.

"Now, now dear, children are like that. and it was about time that manor got a renovation, it hasn't been upgraded since Lady Agnes was Lady Black." Mr Edward consoled his wife pointing out the positives.

"Yes, I know dear. I just worry for the young master, with a new babe in the family, he is growing too soon. he is practically a genius in his studies and I fear that soon I won't have anything to teach him." Madam Polly replied to her husband and they finished their tea while continuing their talks while Sirius who was hiding under a fading invisibility cloak he had found in one of the old bedrooms listened to them.

He silently left the room, it was a boon that both Mr Edward and Madam Polly were busy with each other or he would have been easily caught.

Sirius got sneakier after that in his explorations. he was a curious soul by nature and being cooped up for lessons hours upon hours left him with an itch to explore this vast castle their family called home.

His family was happy with his progress in studies even if they scolded him for what he called having fun. As time flowed and around February of 1848, Madam Polly started teaching him etiquette and how to act like a noble, which included tiresome table manners. She bribed him in learning by arranging horse riding lessons on a small pony for him. Stablemaster Jacques of the Black estate was a taskmaster and what started as fun soon turned into another lesson of the gentry.

In March, Sirius witnessed the naming ceremony of his brother on the vernal equinox. He was curious about what had transpired when he was named, now he was able to witness it properly.

He saw as his grandfather, father and Aunt Aliya stood in a triangle surrounding his brother, who was lying on a softened stone ritual circle a little away from their home, crying loudly. They sent colourful beams of magic at his brother while they chanted something in Latin, which Sirius couldn't understand in the slightest.

He was standing at a distance with his mother, holding her hand, while the rest of the family stood near them, maintaining a certain distance from the ritual circle.

The whole Black household was present for the ceremony including staff and Many relatives were invited to witness the naming of the second son of blacks. All the house-elves of their estate were also present, standing at a distance from the rest of them.

''What is the happening mother?'' He asked in a whisper to his mother while he couldn't tear his eyes off the ritual.

''Your brother is getting the blessing from Mother Gaia Sirius, after this, his connection with magic would improve and he would be strong like you.'' His mother softly replied, still looking at her younger son lying on a stone altar.

''What would happen after this? Would brother be fine?'' He asked worriedly. He still remembered that happening to him but what had felt like tickles to him looked like harmful on his younger brother.

"Yes my dear, After this your brother would be named by your grandfather, and we would break bread and feast on the success of the ceremony." His mother reassured him.

''Will this also happen with the new child of Aunt Laila?'' He asked pointing at the few months old babes in arms of Aunt Laila, who was present today but wasn't participating in the ritual she wasn't wholly recovered from childbirth yet. The third child of Aunt Laila was about a month younger than his brother.

''Oh no son, this is a Black family ritual, only for Black Born children. Your new cousin is an Abbott by birth, just like your other cousins Lawrence and Stephen, they follow rituals and ceremonies of the House Abbot.'' She said patiently.

''oh'', He said still mesmerized by the lightning show going in front of him, his brother had quietened a few moments ago probably asleep or unconscious but no one looked worried. After a few minutes, the tone of chanting lowered and then it ended. His baby brother was glowing silver when their grandfather went to pick him up.

Grandfather looked at the sleeping baby and vanished his tears after conjuring a blanket for him.

All the family members moved inside following grandfather, as elves popped away to prepare the feast and staff left to take another entry inside the home.

As we entered the manor, grandfather stood in the centre of the entrance hall and the rest of us formed a circle around him.

"I declare him, Phineas Nigellus Black, Second son of the black family born on 13th day of 9th month of the year 1847, 3rd in a line of succession to the dukedom of Newcastle and son of Lord Cygnus black II of Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black and Lady Ella Black nee Max of Noble house of Max, on 20th day of 3rd month of 1848, on this Pious occasion of the vernal equinox. May Mother Gaia's blessing always be with you son." Grandfather said in a serious tone.

Everyone started congratulating his mother and father, who was now standing holding my other hand. Sirius kept looking at his baby brother, who was still either unconscious or sleeping.

Madam Polly took him from grandfather, while Miss Clara followed her as they left the entrance hall. Mother and aunt Ailya followed them soon after. He followed his father who was guiding everyone to the formal dining room with his grandfather. He finally used his newly learnt and still imperfect table manners like a miniature adult during the feast under the gaze of his father.

After the feast, they all followed my grandfather to a room that I hadn't explored yet, where he took 2 vials from his mother and added it to another vial he took from Mr Edward.

His Grandfather mixed the contents and then smeared tiny vials' content on the tapestry under the names of his parents, next to his own name. Then he waved his wand murmuring something, not audible to him.

As he was chanting, Sirius saw his newly named brother appearing with a tiny portrait upon it on the tapestry.

He had a tiny ribbon of ''Phineas Nigellus Black, b.1847'' written in gold letters connected by a gold thread to their fathers' name, like his own name. There was a flower also connected to his name in a red thread that had Ella Max written on it.

It was a happy day for all of us. My baby brother finally had a name, Phineas was a good name for him. with that, the naming ceremony was concluded, and everyone left for somewhere while he was led to his bedroom by Madam Polly, where he was tucked in for an afternoon nap like a baby. he pouted but the day's events had been tiring, being around so many people were new for him and most of them were strangers to him.

With that concluded, life moved on.

Soon He held quill for the first time, before that, he had practiced his number and alphabet with coloured wax and charcoal sticks on a bound book made of thick white parchment. It was specially treated parchment for art according to Madam Polly.

He rotated the quill in his fingers and saw it wasn't sharp enough to write fine letters, but Madam Polly had instructed him to write in blocks first then she would teach him the fine art of calligraphy when he had enough control on his quill.

September came and Phineas was babbling all the time now. He soon started walking unaided and was promptly shifted to a safe flying carpet to learn properly, where Sirius usually helped his brother in walking by encouraging him.

When Sirius turned 3, his grandfather ordered someone from their staff to teach him swimming in yet another unexplored room, this one just happen to contain a whole a** Swimming pool. He was also taught fencing by Mr Givens, his new instructor under the ever-present gaze of Madam Polly.

Even though he was learning a multitude of things, he didn't have a busy schedule as he had nothing else to do except learn for a few hours every day, so he started practising reading low-level books from the library while trying to control his stubborn magic secretly. He had to get reading material approved by his nanny, but that was just a precaution as the famed black library had many many tomes not suitable for children.

After he turned 3, he was happy that he would attend family meals from then, and he would be able to get insights into the familial relationships as well as eat his food away from the taskmaster Madam Polly and her horrible table manners.

How naïve he was in his thinking, he realized soon enough that Madam Polly was part of their intimate family and usually took her meals with her husband and Black family at the formal table. He started respecting his family more from that day as clearly Mr and Mrs Hector were quite a bit more than staff for his family as well.

Life was easy as a child, He was enjoying my childhood to the fullest even if he had to entertain his rude cousins Stephen and Lawrence whenever Aunt Laila visited, which was about once every two weeks. Magical travel made it easy to go anywhere. Cousin Edith, the third child of Aunt Laila was too small to play with the rowdy big boys so little Phineas usually kept her company and those two were inseparable for that time. Miss Clara kept an eye on the babies while we were minded by Madam Polly.

Chapter Text

Sirius was almost 7 years old now and a proud older brother of 2 siblings. Phineas had grown like a weed once he started walking and their mother gave them a lovely sister to spoil about a year and a half ago.

Little Lady Elladora Black, born in 1850, already had the whole household wrapped around her little finger. She had her naming ceremony on the summer solstice of the year 1850 a few months after she was born.

He had asked to participate in the ceremony with his grandfather but was denied as it needed an innate control on pure magic of self and knowing the blessing of Mother Gaia by heart.

His family members were unaware of what he can do with magic. He had the freedom of a child to explore the castle he called home on his whim, while his brother followed him around whenever he could escape from his lessons.

When he turned 7, he was introduced to society as well as Wizengmort and the Royal court of Britain by his grandfather after he was given the Heir ring of The Black family as well as a chain with a raven pendant on it. His father instructed him to never remove it in public as this was to protect his mind from unsavoury elements of society.

He had nodded seriously and promised his father, meanwhile formulating plans to study this and learn what the pendent did.

His education was going wonderfully, even if it got tiresome to learn like a child sometimes. He was now Fluent in English, French, Latin and Italian. Madam Polly had added Italian to the mix when he started getting fluent in other languages. With the support of his grandfather, she was all in favour of pushing him to his limits. She had also started on Greek and German 2 years ago. Blacks had a vast business empire hidden from the eyes of most, where these languages were necessary for trade.

Meanwhile, his brother was learning Spanish, Latin, Hebrew and Mandarin, to handle the other side of the business. He wondered what languages his sister would learn.

Madam Polly was strict on etiquette, just like our mother so proper manners were ingrained in us. We were taught to walk, talk, eat, sing, dance, read, and play with manners, so we won't embarrass our family in court, in society or in front of visitors who frequented our public Residence for one reason or another.

At that time, cultural education was given value in life and society, so he was exposed to art, music, poetry, literature, and history from a young age. Both kinds are Muggle and Magical.

Sirius was made to sing or play violin or dance with daughters of my mothers' various social circles frequently, so he became proficient in Singing, Dancing and violin. Seeing children his age accomplishing these things hurt his ego at the beginning, as he was older in mind, so he buckled up and learnt everything, Dedicating himself to the fullest.

Nothing was more humiliating than the younger son of Lady Hednesford being better at dancing or the daughter of Lady Fawley being better at the violin. His mother had looked disappointed for once and he couldn't bear to be lowly at something like dancing or violin.

Pride was one of his major flaws, which he had learned early in life. He couldn't stand to see someone else excelling at anything which he felt he could do better. Sirius only liked his brother excelling at things.

My brother was also taught dancing and lute as his choice of instrument, which he wasn't very fond of. Whereas he was fond of fencing, and it was our activity. Phineas never won except on the occasion when I yielded defeat to make him happy, but it was a perfect way to bond with my baby brother. He was just too fun to tease at any given moment. They were also made to meditate daily due to some reason, but Sirius connected dots soon and deduced that it was the first stage of occlumency or art of protecting the mind. He wasn't in the hurry of learning mind arts as he had protection against it in form of his pendent, so he didn't mess with a thing as delicate as his mind without proper knowledge.

Madam Polly was all for pushing him to his limits so when she added Arthimacy to the course load, which was just advanced math children learnt in middle-high school in my previous life he didn't protest, but he did protest when she added ancient runic languages, which were dead languages and very difficult to learn and wasn't used much anywhere in anything. But his father pushed for them to be taught, so he had kept his head down and learnt them like the perfect pureblood heir he pretended to be. Sirius was provided with a tutor to learn ancient runes from outside the family, while everything else was taught by Madam Polly, Miss Clara, Mr Edward or various hired staff from the household from the beginning. He learnt ancient runes in their family's public residence as outsiders were rarely allowed in the primary residence.

While learning normal stuff was good, he didn't neglect my magical education. He knew about magic from an early age so many things were quite normal to him. Magic was like a muscle according to the books present in our library and how much you used your muscle depended on you. Father had mentioned in passing that he would get a fitted wand when he turned 9, so he could prepare for a bit before school. The black family wasn't going to send their children defenceless to a school full of immature children as they had many enemies.

Sirius was comfortable doing wandless magic most of the time, he had learnt the art by training his body to recognize accidental magic bouts at an early age and duplicating it. He still remembered his magical riot faintly; he was losing memories like a normal person in life and only meditation and taking ample notes helped him in retaining important things. Like any other normal child, he was just more mature and responsible in personality.

He sucked at transfiguration but loved charms. He wasn't allowed near a caldron but understood plants and animals' parts used in potion-making. His uncle Philips had promised to teach him the delicate art of potion-making when was older.

As he grew older, he noticed that his family lead 2 lives, one in front of muggles and one in front of magical. his family's behaviour didn't change but they adjusted according to who they were speaking to. He did notice that his mother frequented various social circles and a few of them lacked magic even in the most primal sense. Her handmaid as well as a magical guard, who were adept at blending among muggles and an invisible house-elf always accompanied her, protecting her from threats from outside and from within the court.

Sirius was confused for a while about the Black family getting chummy with the muggles as he remembered reading that blacks hated muggles and muggle stuff of all kinds, but he accepted everything for now. He did keep a close eye and a sharp ear at what was being said around him. Children were invisible to adults most of the time, if a child remained quiet, he was unnoticed. Maybe something happened that developed into hate for muggles later. It was almost a century and a half before the time books were written and much could happened during that time.

He had noticed over the years that while we had 2 residences on the same land, one near the town with muggle gardens and a visible boundary wall and the hidden castle which was the primary residence, much more secluded, we children were allowed the freedom to be our magical self only in our primary home, under the eyes of magical staff of household.

The secondary manor was a public home for entertaining visitors and outsiders. Grandfather had forbidden us from visiting the front manor which was referred to as the muggle manor by adults. We usually went there with Madam Polly or Family members. I usually went there to be tutored while Phineas accompanied me a few times when our lessons didn't overlap.

Father had told us that our family was employing squibs from the town to run the muggle manor since the beginning it was built as it was easier than to hide magic from even our staff.

I enjoyed exploring the muggle manor with Phineas whenever we can ditch our tutors. We found several hidden passages around that home, being around magic most of our life made us look at muggle stuff with different eyes and hidden levers, pulling books from random bookshelves, dusty basements with bloody chains hanging on walls. It was a classic old manor, just well maintained.

Life was pleasant so Sirius didn't think about the future too much, he enjoyed being a child in such a different time. he acted like a carefree child most of the time so his cunning nature was hidden well and deep, not too deep it wasn't good to hide a big part of his personality so much so that when he acted his true self, everyone would deny knowing him. A world full of magic was dangerous, and he still possessed a hidden adult mind.

Chapter Text

Sirius and Phineas were tired after a long day of learning, both brothers decided to have a picnic in the garden on the lovely day of May, perfect for the outdoors.

They wanted to go flying after the picnic and knowing that no muggle guests were staying at muggle manor, they were safe to do so in the garden they were going to have their picnic.

By now Sirius was 8 years old and quite responsible in eyes of his family. He was a perfect pureblood heir who could do no wrong. The ad never once embarked his family in front of anyone and listened and learnt what was taught without arguments and backtalking like his brother, who was a free and rebellious spirit by nature. Even little lady Elladora was mischievous, but Sirius was the favourite of his parents.

So, when he asked for a picnic in the garden, he got it. Not that anyone in their right mind would refuse 2 lovely boys a chance to breathe in fresh air after being cooped up studying for many hours. This was a frequent activity they did together.

Sirius had always loved the outdoors since the time was a babe whereas Phineas loved to be in the Air. He loved flying of all kinds; he even had his own flying carpet which Aunt Ailya had bought specially for him from her tour to Egypt.

After a long tiring day, Elladora and Miss Clara joined them in the gardens, they were having a lovely picnic.

Phineas asked Miss Clara for a Ball, which she readily Transfigured out of a leaf and then boys were playing with Ella, who was giggling and trying to run behind the ball, when they heard a loud thud and saw miss Clara dropping on the ground petrified, her cornflower blue eyes wide open.

Ella stopped seeing her brothers were not laughing and started crying sensing tension in the air.

"Phineas take Ella and go to muggle manor now, it's near!!" Sirius immediately stood up and shouted at his brother.

They didn't know what had happened to Miss Clara, it might have been an accident or something, so Sirius moved towards Miss Clara to check on her.

"Come brother let's go! We must find help for Miss Clara!" Phineas said in a worrying tone trying to soothe Ella who was crying loudly now.

"No Phineas, I'd stay with Miss Clara while you get help," Sirius said moving towards the fallen body of Miss Clara.

"But brother wh-'' whatever Phineas was trying to say was cut mid-sentence as a beam of red enveloped him and Ella from behind.

He fell to the ground with a loud thud which made Sirius who was checking Miss Clara's pulse look behind him at his fallen brother and sister.

Sirius was scared now, whoever this was, wasn't an ally.

Then a beam of red came towards him from behind the tall bushes and his magic reacted and produced a weak shield, which wasn't enough to protect him from the attack.

Sirius's magic tried its best, but it only weakened the curse and he found himself in the body bound lying on the ground. His siblings were petrified too, and he prayed to Mother Gaia to save his siblings. He was only worried for his siblings right now who must be scared shitless in their petrified state. They all were sheltered children, but he was previously from the 21st century so he at least knew about the realities of the world, whereas his siblings were truly innocent.

"Grab the heir, we must hurry." He heard a harsh voice loudly whispering.

"What about others, we can't leave them here." asked another voice, which was quite soft in comparison.

"You go with the heir; I'd handle the rest of them." Said the person with a harsh voice.

As he tried to listen more, his kidnappers sent a jinx at him.

Suddenly He couldn't see or hear anything but then felt a tight squeezing sensation in his entire body after a few minutes and suddenly putrid smell assaulted his nose. He couldn't control himself; the combination of squeezing sensation and putrid smell broke his body binding, and he vomited violently.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, which he ignored for now. He was dry heaving now when he felt the hand on his shoulder motioning him to walk. He complied with his kidnapper, he didn't have his sight and hearing so he was not functioning at his best. Without knowing where he was, shouting for help was out of the question. He would have to take a wait and see approach for now.

They walked for what felt like hours, finally, they stopped.

'We must've reached wherever they were taking me' Sirius thought as he was forced to move down on a staircase which he was only able to sense due to his kidnapper moving one of his hands on the downwards going railing.

They stopped moving after walking for a few more minutes than Sirius was pushed to the hard ground. He heard the heavy clinking of metal and then felt his senses returning to him.

It took him a few minutes to hear again properly as the spells cast on him were not gentle. He didn't open his eyes yet and tried to listen to his surroundings, while he kept reminding himself that he wasn't a helpless kid. As he heard a sob from somewhere near him, he opened his eyes and found himself in a tiny dirty cell. He saw a kid with dirty blonde hair sitting in the cell opposite to him with his face buried in his knees.

"Hey, who are you? Where are we?" he asked the kid.

The kid lifted his head, and he got the proper look at his face, it was tear-streaked and dirty, while his clothes looked of good quality.

*Sob* *Sob*

"I am Aiden Adams; these people took me from my home. They are bad people who want to hurt me." The kid replied sobbing loudly.

"When did they take you Aiden?" Sirius asked, his mind working a minute a mile.

"3 days ago. I was playing outside my home, and they hurt my auntie and took me." Aiden said full-on crying now.

"It's okay Aiden, don't cry. We would get out of here, don't worry" Sirius tried to reassure the kid, who looked his brother's age.

"But how? they had Edwin here as well and they took him somewhere!" Aiden said shifting close to the bars of his cell, which were about 2 meters away from the bars of my cell.

"Who is Edwin? And when did they take him?" Sirius asked Aiden.

"Edwin is my cousin and he was here yesterday but when I woke up today, he wasn't in his cell," Aiden told Sirius in a broken voice, now looking like he would start crying again.

"It's okay, we would find the way out of here Aiden, my family won't leave any stone unturned to find me, and I know your family must be looking for you as well." Sirius tried soothing the kid.

"They would be coming soon with food for us, we should stop talking or else they would hurt us like they hurt Edwin," Aiden said in a serious tone and then he moved to the back of his cell.

Sirius nodded and followed Aiden's actions while thinking a way out of this mess. He didn't want to be hurt, and he wasn't going to eat whatever these people provided him.

Soon he heard footsteps coming towards their cell and then saw a man with 2 bowls in his hand.

"Here brats, eat up." The man said pushing the small bowls in our cells from the floor.

"Who are you and why did you take me," Sirius asked his captor bravely.

His captor was a tall muscular man who looked dirty and unkempt. A far cry from even the townspeople near their estate.

"eh, you are a curious one," His captor said laughing.

"Tell me," Sirius said now a bit angry.

"Shut your trap brat, we are the so-called muggles and we are sick of you witches hoodwinking the king. You all should have stayed away from the royal family." the muggle man said.

"But you used magic to capture me. How can you be a muggle if you used magic?" Sirius asked, trying to fish for more information.

It seemed that the man was in good mood because of some reason as he was forthcoming with information.

"Mah Brother is what you call him, yes, a Muggleborn. He was sick of you people, so he helped us. You people taking our children to that castle of yours and then making their life hell. He couldn't even find work after escaping from there. Now shut your trap brat before I make you regret being born." The man said harshly in a low-born accent and then left stomping his feet heavily on the dirty floor.

Chapter Text

Sirius had recognized that voice; this was one of 2 who kidnapped him and hurt his family. He prayed to Mother Gaia to keep his siblings safe as he didn't know what had happened to them if the spells they were struck were harmful or not.

He analyzed his captor's words; this was a sibling of a Muggleborn who went to Hogwarts as most muggleborns went there. Hogwarts could easily absorb the cost of teaching muggleborns while other schools on the British Isles couldn't. That brother faced difficulties in Hogwarts or after it due to his status as a Muggleborn. That magic-wielding adult Muggleborn was in leagues with at least his brother if no one else but there could be any number of people involved. and these people thoughts his family politics were harming them or their nation in some way. Sirius wasn't up to date with what his family's stance was in the current political environment but he did know that children and women were a no go zone in any situation and these people had harmed his siblings and kidnapped him. If his father or merlin forbid his grandfather got his hands on them, they would disappear.

He could think about why These people had kidnapped him, one of the reasons could be that his wizarding family was part of the muggle royal court. He knew that his grandfather who was also the Duke of Newcastle was a close advisor to the current king, King Edward VII, and he helped the ministry of magic in keeping magic's existence hidden from muggles using his high position in court. Sirius also knew about a few more families who had retained their noble titles after the statute of secrecy, or made their way in high muggle institutions and assumed this boy Aiden was from one such family. He did know about one Lady Adams who frequented his mother's social circle, but she never bought a kid, maybe a nephew or relative.

He looked at Aiden, who was eating the gruel from the bowl quietly. Aiden hadn't said a word while Sirius confronted their captor, but then he was actually a scared kid who had seen his cousin getting hurt. This Edwin might be magical as well if Aiden was magical. Aiden hadn't reacted negatively to the talks of Magic and witches so he must already know about the Wizarding world.

As he thought he noticed the bowl full of gruel in front of him, food reminded him of home and all the tasty feasts their elves prepared for them usually.

A lightbulb went off in his brain, and he offhandedly remembered that lightbulb wasn't even a thing right now. Why didn't he think of this before? Elves. Elves could go anywhere but no one considered them. He could call an elf and escape or at least get help. Even Muggleborns didn't consider elves a threat usually, as half of them didn't even know about such creatures.

He softly called out, 'kint' while praying to all existing deities that Kint heard his call. It had been a few hours since he was kidnapped, and his family must know about him being missing by now.

After a few seconds of waiting, Kint appeared with a pop.

"Young master, here you are, everyone is looking for you!" he said excitedly pulling his big ears.

"Yes kint, I was taken by 2 bad men from the gardens. Are Phineas and Ella alright? And Miss Clara?" he asked kint in a worried tone.

"Little master and little miss be sleeping. They not waking up and Missy's nanny also sleeping. There be healer at home and everyone looking for you." Kint said with tears in his eyes.

"don't worry kint, they would be alright if they were found. Now can you take me and that boy in that cell out of here?" Sirius asked pleadingly.

"Oh, no Young Master! There be wards here, kint cannot take you." Kint said in the hysterical voice now crying loudly.

"Shh Kint, don't be so loud. What if the captors heard you and found you?" Sirius clapped his hand over Kint's mouth trying to silence him.

Kint eventually quietened and sat on the floor near Sirius, now silently crying.

Sirius was thinking now, while Aiden was looking at Kint with big eyes.

"Hey, what's your name?" he asked him. Sirius realized he hadn't given the boy his name.

"I am Sirius Black." He replied absentmindedly. He needed a plan to break out of here safely. He didn't know where they were and if kint said there were wards then there were powerful wards. He didn't know much about house-elves, but he did know that their apparition was similar but not the same to them.

"Are you related to The Blacks?" Aiden asked in a high-pitched voice.

"Yes, I am Sirius Black, grandson of Aquarius black, Duke of Newcastle." He said thinking the boy must know him from somewhere. Many noble houses were married into The Black family, and they knew of his grandfather as he was the public face of their family while his father worked more in the background right now.

"My father has told me about your family. He said your family is old and powerful." Aiden murmured looking at Sirius who was busy trying to form a plan to get them out of here.

"Kint, can you perform magic here without alerting anyone?" Sirius asked Kint ignoring Aiden for now.

Kint nodded his head excitedly still following the previous order of being silent.

"Good, now listen properly. You are to scout this whole place where we are kept right now and gather knowledge about who all are here and about all the protections around this place. You must be unseen and unheard to anyone and then you must come and tell me about everything. Be fast, time is of the essence." Sirius said seriously to kint who nodded his head in acceptance of the orders given to him.

With that, Kint vanished without pop and Sirius started thinking about what to do now, still ignoring the boy in the opposite cell who was muttering something.

He could send kint to his family and led them here and get rescued, but if his captors were alerted of some apparating nearby, they might hurt him and Aiden and whoever they have previously captured if they were still nearby.

To make an informed decision he needed information, which kint was gathering right now. This was like a game of chess, every move had consequences and another player could make moves of their own and without knowing the whole chessboard he couldn't reliably make moves. He just wished that other kid would keep his mouth shut and cooperate silently if something happened or he would need to shut his mouth with magic and claim accidental magic later.

After what seemed like hours of waiting but realistically was only a few minutes, kint popped back.

"Erect a privacy ward kint." He said softly. He didn't want Aiden to know if something disturbing had happened to his cousin as kint was brutally honest most of the time.

Kint did as said, and Sirius felt a slight disturbance in the air then it vanished as nothing had happened.

"Now tell me what you have discovered. Be short and precise please, we are running out of time." Sirius instructed kint kindly. This elf was family, even if other family members didn't consider him so, Sirius did.

"Young master, we be in small house with 2 floors, and this be basement. House be in a magic alley, there be goblin wards around the house. There be too much magic in the air but kint did his best. Yes, kint did." Kint nodded seriously while relying upon information.

"Alright good, how many people are in this house currently and what is their status," Sirius asked forming plans, Magic alley was elf-speak of the London market which was a tangled mess of many alleys joined together, most prominent of them was Diagon alley. Most people thought only Diagon alley and his shadier part Knockturn alley existed but that was simply not true. There was a total of 91 alleys in Britain which were spread over whole London through nifty gateways just like one behind the leaky cauldron. Only about 7 of them were in London main. They could be in any alley.

"Kint saw 2 big men smoking in the kitchen. One was a Mudblood and the other a filthy muggle, there be 2 little wizards be in one room and kint be sensing magic of one other mudblood in one room." Kint said with clear hatred in his voice.

Sirius heard kint use slurs for the first time in his life and decided to ignore that for now as Kint was normally non-reactive towards people who weren't family, this was an issue for later.

"Alright kint. So, listen here this is what you're going to do." With that Sirius explained his plan to kint wishing everything went smoothly. Chances of something going wrong were high and he wanted to escape this ordeal intact.

Chapter Text

It was a few hours later when another person visited them in the basement. This person looked a bit cooler and calmer in temperament.

"Who are you?" Sirius asked in an indifferent tone, trying to copy his grandfather subconsciously, his words made this person pause and look at this kid who wasn't terrified like all the other kids they had captured till now.

"You don't need to concern yourself with such things boy." The newcomer replied in a voice devoid of emotion.

Sirius finally noticed that this person didn't have a single emotion on his face. He looked blank and honestly, scarier than the person who gave them food earlier.

"Are you that Muggleborn?" Sirius again questioned maintaining a poker face he usually used while playing chess with Mr Edward. He saw a tiny muscle twitching at this person's forehead and yes, his words had struck a nerve, so either this person was that Muggleborn or someone who despised being called a Muggleborn.

"As I said, not your concern brat. Now shut up or you would sleep hungry tonight." Expressionless might be Muggleborn said and with that, he slid bowls full of watery something into their cells. Then he waved his wand and cleared already present bowls in their cells and filled both with water one at a time. Everything nonverbally.

"I need to relieve myself, Mister," Sirius said a haughtily, trying to maintain his dignity in this humiliating situation. He did need to do that, and he was too prideful to go in open or soil his clothes. He kept his expression neutral and words minimal.

His captor looked at him, still expressionless and then conjured a bucket in his cell wordlessly and left without saying a word after that.

Sirius drank some water, relieved himself and then started pacing around. He didn't touch the food as he wasn't aware of what was in it, but the water was conjured in front of him, so it was relatively safer to drink. And frankly, he wasn't hungry enough to eat whatever it was.

He thought about the person who had just delivered their food, this was a third person as his voice didn't match his other two kidnappers. So, this was most possibly the 3rd person whose magic kint had detected in the house or entirely someone else. This thing was getting more complicated as time passed. He just hoped that kint would be able to do what was asked of him properly.

Sirius had genuinely felt scared for a moment after looking at that expressionless face. He had seen this look on his grandfather's face when he came home from a particularly disastrous wizengmort meeting. A clear sign of mind arts practitioner. This person was competent with his wand and had the bearing of a competent adult.

His spells had been nonverbal and perfect. Conjuring was at least 6th-year transfiguration at Hogwarts and not many perused that subject after OWLs as one, it was a power-intensive subject meaning average mages couldn't handle it, second, it was an expensive subject to pursue and third, this needed finesse and practice. Lots of it, which a normal person didn't have the aptitude for, or they didn't put the effort in it as usually things that could be conjured were cheap. Conjuration wasn't a skill of any average tom, dick and harry, *he snickered mentally at his joke* and mid arts were skill only possible for a highly competent mage.

Conclusion? This person was dangerous. it was a blessing that he hadn't looked into his mind. Sirius wasn't keen on testing the pendent his grandfather had given him as it was a physical object and could be taken from his person.

Sirius's skills weren't on that level yet where he could handle this kind of foe. He could handle a muggle and about an average 4th year Hogwarts student but not fully equipped adult mages. He was still unaware of the skills of that Muggleborn who had kidnapped him except that he knew his curses.

Even his weakened shield couldn't stop the attack. He was not taking his magic studies seriously and had gotten lazy and too comfortable in this exciting but dangerous world. He promised himself that he would become so powerful that this kind of situation doesn't occur again. he had failed his siblings. he got lost in thoughts of his siblings for a while Aiden's snore broke his concentration.

He still didn't know what was taking so much time in plan execution. He knew that Kint was smart and competent enough to do what was told and his plan was a safe one.

After a few hours of waiting, he nodded off, sitting with his back to one of the walls. Aiden had already slept a few hours ago when Sirius hadn't replied to a few questions asked by him.

Suddenly he heard a slight pop, and he was awake instantly and noticed kint in front of him.

"Were you able to do as asked?" Sirius asked rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.

"Kint be sorry young master. Everyone be busy looking for you and worrying for little master and miss, no one is listening to poor kint. Kint tried." Kint whispered sobbing.

"Shh kint, it's alright. Were you able to find what I asked?" Sirius consoled kint and asked about their backup plan.

"Yes, young master, kint be able to find the things you asked for. Yes, kint did." Kint handed Sirius a small bag that could be easily hidden under clothes without bulges.

"Good. now you are going to do exactly as I am going to tell you. Word to word. Alright?" Sirius told kint his backup plan in detail and kint listened seriously to his young master.

Sirius handed kint a few things from the bag and kint disappeared with a barely audible pop. After about 15 mins kint popped back.

"Master, kint did as you asked. There be 2 nasty wizards in the house, a filthy muggle and 2 young wizards who be still sleeping like earlier." Kint said.

After that Sirius waited for about 10 mins to be on the safer side and then he unlocked his cell door with a wave of his hand and an alohmora. He silenced himself and then opened Aiden's cell similarly and then kint transferred a potion to Aiden's stomach directly. He was shivering while doing that, clearly unused to all of this. Kint was an expert at spelling the liquids directly into the stomach. He had to do that a lot in their childhood when Phineas refused to eat anything or when someone fell sick in their household. He was the only one who could do this as far as he knew.

Kint levitated Aiden and then they made their way towards the stairs. They silently crept upwards and found themselves in a hallway. Sirius followed kint to the upstairs where 2 other children previously kidnapped were kept. Both kids were on 2 separate wooden tables and the room was bare except for a shelf full of potions, which were kept sealed and labelled. Sirius could read labels and deduced that these potions were used to keep children drugged and unconscious.

Sirius thanked hectare that both kids had a pulse and were just unconscious because of potions. Sirius started putting every potion into the extended bag kint had bought him, while kint levitated and bound all 3 kids with magic together and then started floating them downstairs slowly. Sirius moved to another room that looked like a potion lab, and he could see it was a standard one with runic wards visible. There were not any overly expensive or rare ingredients here, so he just started a fire in the room, and quickly shut the door. The fire was contained because any proper potioneer worth their salt, warded and ventilated a potion's lab separately and this house was allegedly goblin warded.

There were 3 rooms on the first floor, so he moved to check the 3rd room which was the bedroom of their 3rd kidnapper and apparent owner of this house. This bedroom looked a comfortable one with signs of long-term usage. Kint had already drugged their kidnappers on his orders earlier, so he was safe to explore the room, but he did so carefully as this person was dangerous and could've protected his belongings in some way.

Kint had opened the room from inside and left it open previously, so Sirius could easily go in there without tripping the separate wards of the room. This was a loophole in magical homes that not many knew about. Sirius only knew because when he was struck in an old bedroom in his home, an elf had popped in the room and had opened the door from inside. It had happened when he was too small to open the door himself.

The room wasn't big enough to be a master bedroom but looked comfortable enough to be a single person bedroom. There was a bed in one corner with a small fireplace opposite it. There his kidnapper was sleeping, and he looked relaxed unlike what it looked like when he had visited the basement cells to deliver food. Sirius looked around and found a wand, a few keys, a few scrolls which he didn't open right now and a bag with a decent sum of money in it. There was a bookshelf with a decent collection of books and a writing desk with some writing supplies. He grabbed everything visible including every book and parchment to put everything in his pouch. He wanted his kidnapper to feel humiliated if he somehow escaped. Which was big somehow.

He then opened the wardrobe and found clothes and normal stuff but then his eyes fell on the trunk kept at the bottom and it looked like a standard Hogwarts trunk, so he pulled it out. There was a name on the lid itself.

He finally found a name to match the face, 'Damon Lynch Murray'.

It wasn't the last name that he recognized so most probably a half-blood or Muggleborn as he had guessed earlier or at most a new generation pureblood. He would know, his family boasted about how they could trace their 'Pureblood' for the last 36 generations with him being 37th. And made him learn all about British pureblood society.

Still, it wasn't the time to ponder about it. He was still near the enemy he needed to be fast. He was sure that till now Kint must've taken out the children outside the wards so he hurried and sent one of the few spells he could perform windlessly at the lock on the trunk. 'Alohmora' and the trunk clicked open. Huh, so much for declaring him a competent wizard, he hadn't even locked his trunk with something other than a basic locking spell he must've thought that his room was warded and hence safe.

Sirius made quick work of the trunk which contained letters upon letters and numerous scrolls and a few books which were somewhat hard to find, not like rich pureblood family books but more like poor people can't afford or uneducated can't understand books. And what was this, 2 ward amulets. These ward amulets were goblin made clearly. Sirius could recognize goblin silver anytime and they looked old, and this was what these kidnappers must have used to enter the gardens. They wouldn't have worked on old wards of even their muggle manor but the wards on gardens were not deadly and relatively weaker as they allowed muggles to seek audience with the lord of the manor, they were just some regular wards. They must've spied and waited for an opportunity to attack them.

With that, he left the room and finally went downstairs. The ground floor was just a decently sized kitchen, a room for visitors with a large fireplace and another bedroom which housed 2 beds and had his other 2 kidnappers on them. Drugged and bound to the bed itself. Kint's handiwork.

Sirius made quick work of everything the room had and till now fire must've destroyed what was previously potion's lab. He did not feel bad for these people, he was unaware of their actions till now, but they were indeed guilty of at least kidnapping 4 children if not more.

With that, he moved to the kitchen, which didn't have anything significant, and the visitor's room was barebones as well. Enough to look lived but probably not used much except for Floo.

As he left the house wards, he let out a heavy breath of relief. He was finally free to return home. They moved on the dark street and arrived at a courtyard. Kint put the unconscious children on the ground and released them.

"Let's go home kint," Sirius said happily and kint grabbed Sirius's hand as well as Aiden's hand and popped them on the driveway of the estate. A guard noticed them immediately and moved towards them.

"Master Sirius is that you?" a guard asked nervously, he must've been one of the guards on duty when he was kidnapped.

"Yes, please call my family, I need to bring these children inside," Sirius said and the guard hurried inside while kint bought the other 2 children there.

A few minutes later his family came hurrying and his mother hugged him in tears.

"My son, we were so worried." She said hugging him while crying while his father and grandfather looked a bit wary.

"I missed you too mother. I'm sorry I couldn't save Phineas and Ella from getting attacked, I'm so sorry." Sirius said holding back his tears.

"Prove it that you're my grandson." His grandfather said cautiously still not approaching him.

Sirius removed his ring in front of his grandfather and offered it to his grandfather. The black heir ring only being able to be worn by those of black blood and chosen by the head of the house.

His grandfather took the ring and inspected it and sent some spells at it. Only after he was satisfied, did he return it.

"Sirius, we were a worried child. What happened?" his father said finally, relief clear in his voice.

"Can we move inside first; these children were also kidnapped by those people; they need medical attention. We recused them, me and Loyal elf of Black family kint." Sirius said and pointed at the unconscious children present lying on the ground. Kint was pulling at his ears nervously fearing punishment most likely. Not that Sirius would let him be punished for what was essentially saving his life.

"Yes, we should move inside. Kulture." His grandfather said and called his elf.

An aged elf popped and bowed to his grandfather, "Master"

"Take these children to the infirmary of muggle manor with kint and Kint, stay with these children till I call you." His grandfather ordered the elves who bowed deeply and popped away with children.

"Come, my dear, let's take you inside, you must be tired and hungry. Are you injured?" his mother asked him with concern while she checked on him. His father held him by the shoulders and hugged him. probably the first hug his father ever gave him, not that he complained, he knew that his father loved him.

"No mother, I am not injured but I am hungry. I didn't eat what they gave me." He replied trying to calm his mother and the family moved inside their castle, which was also home to them.

---------------------

A/N

Hello my dear readers.

Our MC finally escaped his captors using his cunning brain. not bad for a maybe future slytheirn, right?

Some people might object that he is too old in brain or too young in his body and he should've done things differently but please do remember, while our MC is adult in mind, he is still a kid in body with limited powers. He is still new to Magic even after 8 years in this world and is exploring it cautiously. He isn't a reckless risk-taker and he is aware of his own limitations. So stay tuned for exciting journey of our delightful MC !

I am delighted that you picked my work to read and I'd be grateful if you would follow and leave productive reviews. So, I started this fic more then an year ago and wrote some 50k words and then forgot about it. I'm not going to forget about it this time, don't worry. This fic could go in any direction right now and I am currently in great writing flow, let's hope i didn't jinx it just now. Thankyou again for reading and please stay with me till the end.

Favorites and Follows are welcome as well. :p

Thankyou.

P.S.- Suggestions are welcome as this is a work in progress and I might like some suggestion and write entirely different fic for it.

P.P.S- I am thinking of forming a discord server or a Facebook group for this. suggestions?

Chapter Text

As the family moved inside, Sirius immediately went to the infirmary they had in their home. It was near the potion's lab on the ground floor itself. It was used so that healers don't intrude to their private chambers and in the primary family wing that needed special access to even know where they were.

There, his precious siblings were lying unconscious. He felt tears trickling down his face at the sight of them, he had failed. He was their elder brother, and it was his responsibility to protect them.

Madam Polly seeing that Sirius was well rushed towards him and Sirius hugged her. She was a second mother to him, and they had a special bond. She was relieved to see Sirius unharmed.

"What happened to them Ma'am?" he asked her, trying to control his tears.

"They were given some kind of potion; we haven't found a counter-potion yet, but various people are working towards finding a cure for them." She said, trying to soothe Sirius.

Hearing this Sirius remembered taking various potions from kidnappers. He went to an empty table and started taking out all the potion bottles he had found there while his family looked curiously.

"Here, I took all these from the house they had kept me in. I took anything that looked interesting there, there might be an antidote for the potion given to my siblings. Please heal them." Sirius pleaded to his grandfather who had a grave look on his face.

"We would have to test these first to find the correct one, you have one well, my heir. Not one you escape on your own but bought a possible cure for your brother and sister." His grandfather said patting him on the head while his mother moved to take him out of the infirmary.

"Sirius, son come. Your grandfather would take care of them, you need to eat something." His mother said and they went to a small dining room where there was a spread of dinner food laid out for Sirius.

His mother sat alongside him while a servant served the meal. Even in these troubled times, etiquette was followed as it was ingrained in his very being growing up in this household. Not that he was a pig in his past life, but rules were very lax in that period.

After eating his fill, he moved towards his grandfather's office. His grandfather was busy interrogating Kint when he arrived, so he knocked on the open door.

"Come in Sirius, take a seat." His grandfather called him inside and he sat in front of his grandfather.

"Tell me, everything son, from the beginning." His grandfather ordered, worry visible on his face. It should be known that while his grandfather rarely showed emotions in public, he was a bit relaxed with his family.

With that Sirius started telling what had transpired from the beginning.

He told his grandfather how he was having a picnic with his siblings in gardens near the muggle manor after his classes with Miss Clara Allen chaperoning them.

How they were attacked and how he was taken to an unknown place. He told about the cells, where he had met Aiden Adams and got to know about other children and his meetings with his captors while they came to bring their meals.

He told his grandfather who was listening patiently, about how food reminded him of elves in the manor and he had tried his luck in calling an elf. How kint couldn't gain the attention of family members but then helped him escape. He had told kint to grab some sleeping droughts from the general potion stock from the servant quarters and used that to escape his captors.

He then slyly told his grandfather about what he had discovered while snooping around the house and how had left his sleeping captors defenceless and bound in their beds with help of Kint and then escaped.

His grandfather listened to him carefully and asked a few clarifying questions here and there. He didn't hide anything except his wandless magic which he glossed over so it can be brushed off as accidental magic or the Kint's magic.

"I am proud of you Sirius; we were looking for you from the moment guards discovered young Phineas and Elladora with Miss Clara on the grounds. We were able to track a foreign signature, but it was masked with most likely this amulet." Grandfather said inspecting one of the amulets, Sirius had found there and given him.

He nodded, not knowing much about them, he had read about them in a history book and that is why recognized them and their broad function. There was this one question burning in his mind which he wanted to ask his grandfather but didn't know how to go about it. Straight-up asking sounded like the right course of action so he did just that.

"Grandfather, can I ask a question?" He asked the question mulling in his mind.

"Yes Sirius, you may." His grandfather replied looking intently at him with his stone-grey eyes, Black hair tied in a low pony behind his head and still wearing day clothes.

"Why didn't anyone listen to kint when I sent him for help. Is it because he is a house-elf?" He asked, it was most plausible that just because kint was an elf, everyone ignored him.

"Son, that elf didn't have clear instructions, when he was asked, why didn't he tell anyone in the household properly, the poor thing was not able to comprehend that he had to tell someone without asking them first. We had already questioned elves before you summoned him, so no one asked him again." His grandfather replied without emotion and this made Sirius realize one thing.

His grandfather was lying, most probably they had just thought the elf was rambling and didn't listen to him. He knew his family, they didn't care for words of elves in the house. He wasn't satisfied with grandfather's brush off answer so he would research on the matter later.

"Alright grandfather, thank you for clarifying that." He answered his grandfather who was waiting for him to finish his thoughts.

"Now, what do you wish should be done to those kidnappers Sirius. They kidnapped you, and while I am beyond enraged at their audacity to lay hand on members of the most ancient and most noble house of Black, they need to be punished." His grandfather asked for his opinion which he wasn't expecting.

"Where are they right now?" He asked his grandfather

"Secure for now. We need to plan a proper course of action for them. They harmed you the most, so you need to decide if you want them to vanish or if you want a public spectacle." His grandfather laid the options in front of him, an 8-year-old child and moments like this reminded him that blacks were a bloodthirsty bunch.

"I'd tell you my decision, tomorrow grandfather. I need to think about this and meanwhile, I'd like to know their motives and why did they target me and those other children and everything else about them." He said with finality which made his grandfather grin in a not so nice way. This was the man who had lost too much, seen the world and was living proudly, the true lords of blacks.

"Yes, that can be arranged. Your little helper was able to get us those vermin. You can go and rest for now, and I want a decision tomorrow else I would take my action. But they are your enemies first." Grandfather dismissed me saying that.

"Yes, grandfather." And with that, he left for his room deep in thinking.

It was morning the next day and Sirius had slept for only a couple of hours still worried about his siblings and the heavy burden of deciding the fate of his captors.

As he got ready, he found a scroll on his writing desk as well as a lemon-yellow potion. It was a wide eye potion, he drank the potion and opened the scroll.

...

Name – Harper Moody (b.1832)

Blood status – Muggle

Name – Hubert Moody (b.1829)

Blood status - Muggleborn

Name - Damon Lynch Murray (b.1836)

Blood status – Half-blood

Harper and Hubert Moody are disgruntled children of a low bred muggle man. They were unsatisfied with their status in the muggle and wizarding world respectively and were employed by Murray to do his dirty work.

Damon Lynch Murray is the son of Pureblood Lizzie Murray nee Lynch and Muggleborn Brooke Murray. They attended Hogwarts in the same year and disappeared after their 5th year when Lizzie Lynch was contracted to marry a pureblood when she turned 17.

Damon was born in a middle-class home with both parents working to live. He was a prodigious student and is particularly talented in mind arts and potions. He was able to make a living by stealing secrets from people's minds during and after his Hogwarts years.

He then started kidnapping to take revenge on people who had bullied or rejected him for one reason or another. He kept a list of such people which includes about 20 families. Out of these 20 families, 6 had lost children in the past 2 years. They were kidnapped by Murray and experimented on to find the secret of pureblood. He wanted to become pureblood. He had previously killed his parents and a squib sister as well as 3 people he had employed in past. His current employees are Hubert and his brother Harper Moody, who he manipulates in working for him by using their unprotected thoughts and deplorable situation against them.

He is responsible for the murders of 15 adults and 8 children and planned on killing 2 children he was currently experimenting with soon. His intentions were experimenting on recently kidnapped children next.

...

Sirius felt disgusted after reading the scroll. There was a long list of crimes and atrocities committed by the man under the information written in detail. This man was a sociopath of high other while the other 2 were his henchmen and nothing else. This man doesn't deserve to live and parents whose children were kidnapped need closure even if he wanted to end this person's life right now. These kinds of monsters don't deserve to live but death was too good for them.

He decided on his course of action and went to his grandfather with his decision final. He didn't have an appetite after reading that scroll. He should've killed him last night but what's done was done and death was too merciful for this criminal.

He knocked on the door of his grandfather's study.

"Enter" he heard his grandfather calling him inside.

He looked at the current Lord black and found signs of a sleepless night. These crimes were something that couldn't faze his grandfather, so it was something else. He took a seat and deposited the scroll on the table.

"Ah, so you've read it." His grandfather simply said only looking up once from the document he was reading.

"yes, grandfather and I've made my decision." He said with unwavering confidence in his voice.

His grandfather focused on him finally and looked into his eyes. Stone grey eyes looked into similar Stone-grey eyes.

"Good. about time you start learning how to deal with enemies" Grandfather said while an unsaid conversation passed between the eyes of the older and younger generation.

"I don't want these Monsters to see the light of the day again, they don't deserve to live. But I also want those people who have lost children to know that their children have been avenged and give them closure." He laid the fate of 3 men that have kidnapped him in front of his grandfather.

"It would be done. Now on the topic of children, you saved last night." His grandfather said accepting his decision without a blink and moving on.

"What about them? Send back them to their families." Sirius said gearing himself up to ask about the state of his siblings.

"Yes, Aiden Adams and Edwin Pucey were sent to their families they owe a life debt to you which could be collected anytime. But the last boy, he is an orphan now. He is currently 12 years old. He calls himself Augustus and said that his family had denied him going to Hogwarts previously when they were approached and then he was kidnapped a few weeks later. He doesn't wish to go back to his family. What do you wish to do with him?" Grandfather asked in a nonchalant tone like discussing whether and not the life of a magical child.

Sirius kept his face impassive. His grandfather was giving him a lot of decision-making power which was unprecedented. He shouldn't be asked to make this decision but here he was forced to decide for a Muggleborn child. He knew the views of his grandfather on muggles and muggleborns. While there wasn't a deep burning hatred for them in his family, there was a clear indifference regarding them. They were treated like they were worth nothing beyond their use. He had studied his family's interactions with them.

"Let him be trained under Mr Edward to be a servant in the household for now. He is old enough to learn responsibilities and earn his keep. Get him a wand and let him get an education here so he might be of some use to the family. I'd see what should be done with him when he is somewhat older and useful." Sirius said to his grandfather and stood up to leave. He would check on his siblings himself.

Chapter Text

Months following the kidnapping incident were hard for Sirius. He turned 9 in October, about 3 months after the incident had occurred. He was treated like he would disappear anytime by his mother and Governess; his grandfather had never coddled him before that day, and he didn't start doing so after it, but his father's attitude changed a bit towards him. His father allowed him access to the second floor of the library, which was usually done when a child receives their Hogwarts letter at the least. He still wasn't allowed on the 3rd or 4th floor of the library but still, even access to the 2nd floor was a sign of trust his father had shown towards him. He was considered responsible now.

He had a hard time spending time with his siblings like before the incident. Those days they were under the potion were hard on them as well but gradually they had found a new normal. While he lost himself in his studies, Phineas and Elladora grew closer. Miss Allen was removed from her post due to her failure at protecting her charges, so Another Governess was hired for younger children as well as an unseen guard was allotted for whenever they left the bounds of the manor.

Their captors were never seen or heard from again and no one really cared about them. They didn't deserve to be glorified for their actions, but their actions nonetheless affected a few important noble magical families that were still active in the muggle world.

His grandfather had told the family about the meeting that he attended consisting of all the old magical families still involved in the muggle world on the British Isles. They had decided to slowly distance themselves from muggle monarchs and their government due to various reasons, which were brewing since the statute of secrecy, but the loss of their children was the final nail in the coffin. These families had also increased in introducing Muggleborn oppression laws in wizengmort. Sirius suspected that his grandfather had manipulated a lot of families by fudging the truth about the kidnapping but that was already done now.

Sirius couldn't do anything about this at this age, but he knew that he was witnessing the history of the harry potter wizarding world. These families were some of those which were considered dark in future and supported Grindelwald and Voldemort during wars. He needed to grow and create his own power base soon. He couldn't let his new world move towards doom.

There was burning hate for muggles in wizarding folks as muggles had forced them to go into hiding. An average witch or wizard didn't even consider muggles above animals, and it reflected in their day-to-day life. Still, that was for later, Sirius was a wizard now. He would see what he could do for his people when he had power, for now, he needed to focus on his personal development.

On the thought of his personal development, he had started practising occlumency with fervor after the incident. He had already gone through a Bloodline ritual on his 7th birthday and his mind was strong enough to handle some stress now. He was on the second stage which was creating the shields before the incident and only hose shields had kept his mind safe during his eye contact with Murray. He needed to finish on that and move to 3rd stage before the beginning of his formal education.

His family had started him on beginner's occlumency when he was 4 when Mr Edward had started playing chess with him and guided him through meditation required for protecting his mind without mentioning it. As he had guessed at that time, it was the first stage of protection and chess was a way to stimulate his mind to think critically. Too bad he was a chess master in his last life and was leagues ahead in chess than Mr Edward who had continued to play with him even after multiple defeats parting his wisdom in every session. Relating chess to the world in a way that opened Sirius's eyes towards new possibilities.

Sirius needed to accelerate his plans now when he had relative freedom to move around if only inside the home. He was given sole ownership over kint after the incident as a 'reward' and hidden protection by his grandfather. He had warded his room with a rune chain, he had spent a month creating and a week perfecting for privacy and then emptied the pouch full of things he had taken from that place.

Yes, he had learnt the value of 'Ancient runes' or started developing his own runic language a while ago with Klingon as the base. He had learnt Klingon in his previous life for some reason which eluded him right now, but it was fulfilling its purpose now. Until someone else who knew Klingon transmigrated to this world, or star trek universe was true, or the books came into existence, his new runic language was private. (A/N - I won't go into detail about creating a runic language as it would take a few thousand words and would be boring for people reading for the plot.)

He sorted all the parchments and rolls which were related to Hogwarts education, which his captor had apparently received. His prize was underneath all the scrolls and parchments, a Gringotts vault key and the books on advanced Mind arts and potion-making. As per the interrogation results, Damon lynch Murray was a beast in potions and mind arts, the best Hogwarts had seen in a century or so according to a small article published in Daily prophet of August 1847, which he had kint look for. He needed to know about the man who had unnerved him even for a moment and history was the best way to look for clues.

Sirius begins developing his Shields with the intention of being proficient at them by the time he started school, which was almost 4 years away in 1857. He would start a year late as his birthday fell in October, So He had some time and a lot of ground to cover. He wanted to be on at least stage 4th of occlumency by the time he was 11. He was nearing the end of stage 2 right now and soon begin with stage 3.

According to even Murray's personal notes, he had achieved the 2nd stage only after his first maturity, so Sirius was leagues ahead of a supposed mind magic master.

He sent a disguised kint with an empty extended bag to Gringotts to empty Murray's vault and then close it, he didn't want to leave any loose links. Murray and Moody's wands were hidden in a hollow book on his bookshelf, he didn't want to limit his wandless magic by using a wand right now. His magic came to him with some difficulty and stopping his growth at this point would be just stupidity as he knew that if he picked a wand, his control on his magic would disappear gradually.

Kint came back after half an hour with whopping 3,844 galleons, 12 sickles and 4 knuts as well as a few more things that were apparently stored in Murray's vault. There were 2 wands, some jewellery, documents of a residential plot in the horizontal alley, a genealogy test, some rare scrolls on alchemy, a tiny bottle of golden luck potion, Felix Felicis which was invaluable, and a few more rare potions with good shelf life which were properly labelled and dated including Polyjuice potion. He had found another 150 galleons and some sickles and knuts in the bag he had taken, so he had now about 5k galleons of his own, which included money his family had given him over the years for one thing which included 4k galleons worth of Murray's wealth.

He was set for his own projects, hidden from his family. He had a few things going on which he knew no child would get approval.

His uncle Philips as promised had begun his potions education at age of 9 and he had excelled at potion-making his uncle sing his praises. He had learnt a few important potions first while focusing on learning important subjects from the tutors hired by his family.

His magical education had begun when he was 7 after his bloodline ritual and continued until he was 10. They covered the first 5 years of Hogwarts syllabus in condensed mode and focused more on theory as he wasn't allowed a wand yet.

What they didn't know was that after the incident Sirius had forced himself to perform magic windlessly and had excelled after he had an epiphany while meditating to calm himself down after one too many failures.

Sirius had spent hours every day controlling his magic and casting magic. His results paid off when he was tired after another yule ball he had to attend.

He was at gardens hiding from the annoying children he had been forced to entertain and stumbled upon the ritual site some way away from the Castle. He realised how far he was but didn't care now.

'Those annoying entitled brats, always demanding one thing or another.' Was running in his mind when he was running away.

The ritual site looked abundant now; his family had performed the winter solstice with Abbotts that year at their manor, so their own ritual site looked bare.

He transfigured a leaf in a candle after concentrating hard, wandless magic that didn't come naturally to him and then lit it with a burst of flame from his palm. He had a light sheen of sweat in the middle of the white winter of that year. Still, he preserved and sat in the ritual circle, uncaring towards his fancy clothes and focused on the candlelit in front of him.

He got lost in his mind and had an epiphany, a eureka moment that night. He could see his magic for the first time in his body, it was a Golden fog thing spread in his body. He tried to capture it, but it eluded him. He could see what he was doing wrong while trying to perform wandless magic. He was trying to force golden fog which was his magic to obey him.

He gently coerced his magic in melting the snow that was near him and to his amazement, his magic listened to him and vanished the snow a few feet around him leaving a barren wetland underneath. He had never performed wandless magic with such ease before that day. It had been a battle of dominance till that day, him trying to force his magic and his magic resisting.

He had treated magic like a tool and never a part of him, he had his knowledge from previous life let hamper his progress. He realized why he had so many accidental magic incidents in childhood, his magic wanted to be free, and he was suppressing his magic every waking moment, trying to force it to follow his will. He now knew that he just needed to create a harmony between his mind and magic.

He Tried a tempus charm and saw it was late and his parents must be expecting him to be already asleep. He needed to sneak in and think about what he had concluded tonight. He had finally cracked the secret of wandless magic.

Sirius felt invincible and slept with a content smile on his face after a long time.

Chapter Text

It was a day like all other when Sirius was summoned by his father to gardens. There he found his father, grandfather, and Aunt Ailya having tea while exchanging heated words.

They stopped and settled into a semblance of civility just as Sirius approached them.

"Ah good, you're here." His Aunt Said invited him to sit on only empty chair present.

"Good afternoon, Grandfather, father and Auntie." He greeted everyone present as a servant served him tea.

He took his cup from the server and sipped a pleasant-smelling lemon flavoured tea.

"Yes, Good afternoon, Sirius. We were discussing something important just now." His father addressed him in his usual baritone voice.

He raised an eyebrow but didn't reply and waited. It had been a tense few months in the home with his grandfather travelling to other branches frequently. He hadn't pried much when he had realised that situation was indeed serious. His father was focusing on Business closer to home now as he readied himself for takeover soon.

"Yes, as my brother here is saying, something rather important has come up." Aunt Ailya said which made Sirius think about several things But he was not one leading the conversation here.

"Stop with this nonsense you both, just tell the lad." His grandfather's gruff voice cut both his children.

"Yes, As I was saying previously, we should inform my son," said His father looking resigned to those who know him.

"Jus sanguinis et primogenitura." His aunt said in a voice that had Sirius on high alert instantly.

He raked his brain and searched around, where he had heard this term and then he remembered. This was indeed a serious matter. Sirius was fluent in Latin, so he knew what his aunt had just said. He understood why his family was on high alert and why his mother wasn't involved. No mother could agree to this, and it meant his father and grandfather had gone behind her back in this very important matter.

"You mean that old black family challenge? I thought it was a myth." He murmured still thinking about what he knew.

"Yes, that challenge but 'Right of blood and birthright' is not a myth lad, It's the truth of our family." His grandfather was looking at him intently now.

"Who is challenging us? I don't think anyone is looking for an heir right now." He asked listing all the families he knew in his mind.

"Marchese Venerio Fittipaldi Merula had declared the challenge for the winner to gain his title, estate and heir at the end, he is losing ground in his kingdom and have a decade and a half at most." His grandfather took the helm of the conversation as his father and aunt fell silent.

"So, I must go through it. But why me?" he asked accepting his reality. He knew the Black family was not a simple Noble family, their history was long and filled with blood and various other things not worth mentioning right now.

"Jacques Noir had decided to challenge his superiors. His heir is turning 11 in a year, and he had agreed for his heir to challenge you for 'Jus sanguinis et primogenitura." His grandfather continued as his father refused to meet his gaze and focused on his tea.

"Isn't he Lord of the French branch? Why was he involved in matters of the other branch?" Sirius asked for clarification, confused for why Lord Noir was involved in any matter related to the other branch.

"Why not when we both finish schooling? This can wait until we have been through our second maturity" Sirius said thinking it through. He was a few months away from turning 11 and the noir heir was just a few months younger. He had met him previously in once a decade thing, extended Black family Gathering which had last taken place in 1850. The younger noir was a spoiled brat, but he could see a cunning mind even that early in the fellow heir. They shared an amicable relationship currently.

"You know why son. We can't take a risk. This cannot wait for another decade as till then Italian branch would fold or cease to exist." His grandfather looked defeated, and he had never seen that expression on the face of a black, not even when they had waited 3 days for his siblings to wake up while that incident.

"I'll do it." Sirius declared. He knew he had the most possible chance of conquering the challenge. With a developed mind and black family blood in his veins and all the things he had faced, he was the most obvious choice.

"It's decided then, you're the best our family had seen in 2 centuries since Lord Rigel black. you my heir would conquer the challenge, your training would begin from tomorrow at sunrise and you would have a few months to prepare. You would have the best of the family resources to prepare you. Our Family's honour rests on this" Lord Aquarius black said started laying the terms in front of his prepubescent grandson.

Terms that would make a fully grown wizard shiver and his grandson just accepted everything he laid out with nothing but determination visible. The terms were negotiated among three lords 2 days prior in the extended council meeting of the Black family which had taken place in Switzerland, in a conference room of the main bank of the Black family.

As only Grandson of Late Lord Rigel Black, Current Head of the most ancient and noble House of black, Lord Aquarius Black, residing in the ancestral castle, the main seat of his family, this was his responsibility to initiate contact with those under him, so he had taken lead. He hated involving his elder grandson in this, but he didn't have a way out except to put his younger grandson in his place by waiting 3 years.

The Noir family was a branch of the Black family who settled in France on orders of their shared ancestor in the 16th century. They had broken all ties with the muggle nobility just before the muggle French revolution half a century ago and continued to thrive in the wizarding world.

He had previously tried to engage one of his daughters to the Noir branch for closer ties and to dissuade brewing conflict among them, but Noirs had postponed it declaring that they didn't have a suitable match despite having a son only a few years younger than his daughters. He had let it lie thinking that children were too young to be part of conflicts, but this was something he couldn't ignore. He had prepared in secrecy for whatever he could do to take over the Italian branch without alerting Noirs but alas it was not to be. Whatever Noirs was, blind they were not.

His family was the primary branch, while the rest 2 remaining branches spread across the continent were secondary, not having ample family members had led to this. He could cut ties with the Noirs and be done with them, but his pride and business sense won't let him do so. They had extensive business ties with the French branch currently and he would have to untangle centuries of ties to segregate which would take decades.

Italian branch was an important part of their business here in Europe and they couldn't let go of it without a fight. The rest of the Branches in Europe were currently divided between 3 lords with him having control. There were a few fledgling branches in the Americas, Russia, southern Asia and a few more parts of the world but as they didn't have a major impact on the business yet, they weren't involved much among older branches.

Lord Aquarius Black had met Signore Venerio Merula, Head of Sicily family Branch (Modern-day Italy) for modifications in current agreements and treaties between families, Due to the increased demand for the unification of Italy, Venerio had started seeing a decline in business and started losing his power base in his kingdom and had asked help from the Parent branch.

He had other reasons for that as well as his only suitable (magical) heir was a daughter under the age of 6 currently, with his wife having passed away during childbirth. He had a squib son aged 13 who wasn't suitable to take over the Magical family business, so he had to begin educating the child in the mundane side of the business. But it was only until he found a suitable match for his daughter and got a contractual agreement with the family. He had first investigated his own primary family for a suitable match, but all the other relatives were too predatory and not suitable for his princesa.

With this Unification almost upon him, he had looked at the Parent branch of his family for support but then the French branch had gotten wind of the talks and it had come to this. His son wasn't in the position to take up the title ever, as at most he could be a mediator with maintaining the family's position in Mundane society.

So, in the end, all three Lord had butted heads and Signore Merula had suggested 'Jus sanguinis et primogenitura'.

Seigneur Noir had at first said he was family head and thus doesn't qualify for the challenge and his son was too young, while Lord Black had declared his son able. Then Signore Merula had suggested suitable children of the families take part in the challenge.

Seigneur Noir had lapped at the opportunity and declared his 10 years old Son capable if Lord Black also allowed his heir to take part. They were similar in age and wouldn't be far away in abilities making it an equal challenge for both boys.

Lord black had resisted at first saying his grandson had been through an ordeal just a few years prior but then Seigneur Noir had called his grandson Sirius weak, which he couldn't tolerate, thus he had accepted.

The challenge was going to take place in a year in June 1856 with both boys getting some time to prepare and adjust after their first magical maturity. It would be headed by Signore Venerio with his Title, estate, business, and daughter at stake.

Lord Black did have a grandson worthy of the challenge and he had seen the child growing up, he couldn't be prouder of his grandson. This child Sirius Rigel Black, the First Son of his son Cygnus was worthy of the name Black. His son was adequate, but he could never boast about his son having something special in him to lead but his grandson was a born warrior and a survivor. He still remembered how the tiny babe hadn't shed a single tear during the purification ritual and then continued to grow and thrive.

How his grandson had accomplished bloodline binding ritual at the age of 7 by himself with only instructions and ingredients. Even he hadn't gone through it on his own. He had his father and elder sisters to guide him, but his grandson had done it on his own. He hadn't even asked for assistance, not that the family wasn't ready to step in at any moment.

He had confidence in his grandson that he would be able to conquer this challenge. The passage of blood and birthright. Right of a Black-Born. This challenge was last done 2 centuries ago in the time of his grandfather, where 3 sons of Lord black had attempted and only one had come out alive. This was between three Blacks who had passed their second maturity and wanted to lead the family. It had happened in 1683 when the youngest son had reached adulthood. Lord Apollo Black had tasked his sons with 'Jus sanguinis et primogenitura' to solve the conflict and get rid of his troublesome children and choose an appropriate successor.

He prayed to Mother Gaia for the strength and victory of his family. He had confidence in his grandson but having the blessing of the mother herself would be a boon for his grandson.

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A/N - Thankyou for reading and stay with me on this adventurous journey in different time and era. Do comment and bookmarks are a must! :P

Chapter Text

On 20th October 1856, When Sirius went to sleep, he knew he would wake up different next day. He had been anticipating this since he had realized who he was. The family had a hearty meal that was as elaborate as the norm in the evening, but his father called him to discuss an important matter.

-Flashback-

"You requested my presence, Father?" Sirius said as he was summoned by his father just as he was getting ready for sleep.

It had been another tiring day full of training since the sunrise till sundown after which he had been given time to rest till next sunrise.

"Ah Sirius, You're here. Come in son. Take a seat." His father called him in.

Sirius sat opposite his father, who gave him a vial full of silver solution.

"Drink that son" His father commanded, but Sirius didn't drink it as he was inspecting the vial.

"What is this?" he questioned Cygnus while intently studying the solution, who looked at his action of talking back with unreadable eyes.

"It's an alchemical solution to aid your magical maturity. This is a black family secret that is passed down from Lord to his heir since the establishment of the most ancient and noble house of Black."

"What is its effects father? You must have drunk it in your time." Sirius asked curiously, his family hasn't exactly steered him wrong till now, so he was sure it wasn't anything nefarious, but he still won't consume anything without knowing its effects.

"When you cross the threshold of being a true wizard, it would strengthen your core trinity."

"Mind, Magic and Soul" Sirius murmured looking at the solution with an incredulous gaze.

"What are its long-term effects?" He continued his line of questioning.

"None. But you must consume this before 3 of your magical maturities or it won't be as effective as it could be." His father replied.

"Who made it and what is it made off?" Sirius was curious about whom his family could share a black family secret with.

"A highly valued alchemist our family employs made it under a secrecy contract and It is made of 7 highly potent alchemical solutions and has been steeped for 3 years. Every solution was made to accelerate your development and prepare you to take the mantle of Lord Black one day." Cygnus Black said in a tone that brokered no arguments.

Sirius's gaze sharpened at his father's words, he hadn't dabbled into alchemy yet but knew it was notoriously hard for those who didn't know the basics of transfiguration, chemistry and Arthimacy. A solution made of 7 solutions and if he knew his family, every single one of those solutions would be a boon on its own, so he decided to finally drink it. It was an advantage he wasn't willing to pass on. He would study the solution when he has sufficient knowledge of the field.

"Will I learn to make it? He asked excited at the prospect of learning alchemy.

"If you show disposition towards alchemy then tutors can be arranged when you have passed your OWLs."

Sirius sensed that his father was nearing his end of patience with his questions, so he drank the silver solution which didn't leave a taste on his tongue. Highly intriguing was running in his mind when his father dismissed him, and he trekked back to his room which was on the 3rd floor.

Sirius finished his personal training in the confines of his chambers and turned in to sleep as his elf doused the lights. He tossed and turned for a couple of hours not able to sleep in anticipation and sat up in a lotus position and started to mediate knowing trying to sleep was futile that night.

At 3:33 in the morning at the exact time of his birth, He found himself in a dark place filled with golden mist which was faint but visible.

On 21st October 1857, Sirius Black woke up startled and immediately grabbed his fading dream and converted it into an obsidian stone, which he usually used to store his more precious and private memories. He hadn't done that with dreams yet but felt like this was something he should not let slip by even if he couldn't remember what it was. After converting it he dived into the memory to see what had startled him so.

-Dream/Memory-

Where am I was running in his mind, when he recognized the golden mist surrounding him from the time, he had unlocked his wandless magic. He remembered having an epiphany and then having an easier time using wandless magic after that. Not that he had gotten expert in that, it had just cut his efforts in half.

He noticed that the mist was slowing moving in the opposite direction from where he was existing and then he tried to 'see' but found that he didn't have a body just a presence wherever he was. He started moving towards the source of golden mist with great difficulty. Only his superior willpower and an internal voice screamed at him that this was important, so he moved ahead facing the resistance.

After a while, he found himself at the source of golden mist. What he saw there shocked him.

He found a golden-hued orb layered with what looked like Black built-up of grease over it. There were pinpoint-sized minuscule bubbly openings in it, which allowed for rays of golden mist to pass through it. But there were very few openings.

He gazed at the orb for a long while before trying to feel the orb with his presence. The Blackish Built-up felt greasy and slimy, his presence felt disgusted by it but on the contrary, the golden mist emitting from the pinpoint cracks soothed him. Such a jarring opposite effect left him in a conundrum but made one thing very clear in his mind, the greasy built-up was bad and the golden mist was good. The golden mist was important.

As he touched the orb, the intensity of golden mist increased and surrounded the orb fully which made it harder to 'see' it. His presence felt pressure and started flickering and he had to will himself where he was with great difficulty while the increased golden mist made him back away from the orb.

His presence 'saw' with guarded anticipation at what was happening to his magical core. He patiently waited for the change to take place while trying his best to stay there despite the resistance.

After what felt like hours, he saw the golden mist had started to spread around from its originating point and gradually it settled.

He noted the changes and saw that His core had increased twice in size and became a bit clearer, and he could see those pinpricks from where the golden mist was appearing had multiplied and became bigger and his core had also grown somewhat. If he had to compare, then he would say previously golf ball-sized core became Pool ball sized.

There were still multiple layers of greasy built-up, but they had somewhat reduced but was still covering about 97% surface of his core. His presence slowly faded from the dream/memory.

Sirius Rigel Black, 11 years old heir of the prominent Black family of the British Isles opened his eyes and a smile bloomed on his face. If someone was to see him, they would call the child angelic and a future heartthrob.

He stood in front of a mirror, getting ready for the day with the help of his elf who helped him don the layers he was required to wear to show his status in his household as well as in society.

He looked at his reflection and saw Black wavy hair which a blue sheen, which reached just past the nape of his neck, smoky stone-grey eyes which shined with intelligence, a straight aquiline nose, high cheekbones, pouty lips, all set on a pale squarish face, which had some baby fat, that overall gave him a look which screamed Noble.

He had gotten a couple of days off from training at his father's insistence. He was glad for that as he didn't feel like doing much and sleeping the day off. But duties were a must and he as an elder brother had to set an example in front of his siblings as well as his family. But he wasn't a child truly; he had an adult mind which made him look past emotions driving the children his age, so he buried his emotions behind his shields to deal with at a less urgent time.

As he made his way for the dining room, he grew excited. He had finally turned 11 and reached the age of Schooling in the wizarding world. He would probably get his Hogwarts letter today as was the tradition. He couldn't wait to read his very own Hogwarts letters.

He arrived in the dining room where his grandfather and siblings were yet to arrive, but my parents were already present.

"Salutations on your birthday my dearest son, May mother Gaia's blessings be always with you." His mother, Lady Ella Black stood up and greeted him, kissing both his cheeks like the French people did, where she had recently gone for a visit to some family.

Then father stood up and patted him on back and then shook his hand as if declaring him a man and wished him a happy birthday.

As his father took his chair and he made way towards his own chair, his siblings ran into the dining room and their mother started scolding them for acting like heathens, while Phineas regained proper posture but 5 years old Elladora still kept running and Sirius opened his arms to scoop and lift his darling little sister.

"Salutations of birthday big brother." She said kissing his cheeks unknowingly copying their mother.

Sirius ruffled her curly black hair, which was missing a head accessory as Ella was prone to running away from her governess who tried to force her to dress up properly for meals on formal occasions.

"My thankyou to you little sister. Did you run away from Mrs Dagworth again?" he asked his sister who was trying to escape his arms now looking guilty.

"She is mean and makes me wear that awful headpiece. I couldn't bear her presence brother." She informed her brother in a clear 'I know better than you voice' and pouted.

Sirius couldn't resist her cute puppy dog eyes and pinched her cheeks, putting her down on a chair gently.

As his arms got free, his younger and only brother moved towards him and shook his hand trying to act like an adult and wished him.

He shook Phineas' hand and thanked his brother who was trying to act an adult a bit seriously. No need to tease his brother today, he would be unbearable then. Phineas gave him a quick hesitant hug and then ran to his seat opposite Sirius on the dining table.

Their parents just chuckled at Phineas' act while Sirius tried hard to control his smile. As he pulled his chair, Head of the household, his grandfather arrived in all his regal glory and wished him in a similar manner to his father. Sirius unconsciously smiled seeing how his father still followed his own father's footsteps and comparing it to how their mother's mannerisms were shaping his sister.

The family broke fast over tinkering of cutlery and small talks mainly focused on Sirius's special day. As the meal drew to close, a servant came in the room holding the tray of the daily mail. There were more than usual letters present and most letters were addressed to him.

What shocked him was that among those, there were 3 letters addressed to him which were heavy with stamps of vastly different magical schools.

His grandfather motioned him to open the letters and he picked up a letter written in German, a language he had learnt only enough to get by. Still, it was sufficient to read a letter.

The first letter had a coat of arms of a double-headed eagle and featured the school's name 'Durmstrang' in both Latin and Cyrillic script.

It was simply addressed as

"Herr Sirius R. Black, Newcastle, England."

He used the ornate silver letter opener on the red seal which was stamped on a cream-coloured heavy parchment.

Inside were 2 thick parchments,

First had the same coat of arms as the seal and details about the school founding years and current headmaster in the top paragraph with their accomplishments and below it was an invitation to attend the most prestigious school of Northern Europe, Durmstrang Institute.

He read the letter quickly and saw that the second parchment was a sort of minimalistic prospectus with information regarding the cost to attend school when the term begin which was surprisingly 1st February, which was in the basic 1st yr. curriculum, what were the individual requirements to attend the school as well as a way to contact the school to send an acceptance letter. There was no book list or requirement list of any sort.

He guessed that it was clearly only sent when a student accepted the invitation, no need to put unimportant information if the potential student didn't accept.

He passed both pages to his father to read. His mother and grandfather were sorting their own correspondence while his brother and sister were reading the already opened greetings he had received from their relatives.

He picked another envelope and his nose picked up a pleasant flowery scent from the parchment.

The parchment held a light blue hue and was addressed to him in French in black inked calligraphy.

This was the invitation or acceptance letter from the beauxbatons most probably. His mother looked interested in this letter, so he quickly examined the seal which was the coat of arms of the French school.

It consisted of two golden wands crossed over one another, each shooting three stars.

He opened the letter and read it silently, his French far better than his German.

It was of a similar format to the Durmstrang letter just with much more elegance and flowery words with the coat of arms above the letter content with their accomplishments as well as information on the current director of the school.

'Monsieur Black,

We are pleased to invite you to the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, "Where magic meets magnificence". At Beauxbatons Academy, people of an unimaginable nature attend to learn more about their gifts. As well as improving our magic, we learn etiquette, poise and more.

We are looking forward to your acceptance letter. An owl can be sent addressed to the school itself or Ministry of magic, France and we would open further communications for the formal arrangements.

Au Revoir,

Cyrille Manoury,

Head of department of education,

Ministry of magic, France.

Sirius promptly passed single parchment to his mother and picked the most anticipated letter.

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A/N - Hey guys, Sorry to leave you all hanging at this point in this chapter, I couldn't fit our most anticipated letter in this chapter as it was already running long. ;)

Please Follow, Favourite and review. It's always delight to know reader's views!

Much love xoxo

Chapter Text

I finally held something which was the ultimate dream of all Harry potter fans. A Hogwarts letter. My very own Hogwarts letter.

The letter was addressed to me, written in green ink on a thick yellowish parchment that had silver watermarks on it. It was no less pretentious than other school invitations but nevertheless special in a very different way.

'Sirius R. Black,

East Wing, 3rd Floor,

Black Castle, Newcastle,

England, Great Britain.

Hogwarts letter had a purple wax seal bearing a large "H" and the four animals representing the four Hogwarts Houses. He opened the seal with the same letter opener, and there it was written on the same silver watermarked thick Parchment with Green Ink as Envelope under a coat of arms of Hogwarts,

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland"

Headmaster: Dexter Fortescue,

(Grandmaster of warding and curse breaking, 17th Elected Lord of Glasgow seat in Wizengmort, Holder of Hogwarts seat in the confederation of Magical education.)

Dear Mr Black,

We are pleased to invite you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the new academic class of 1857-63.

Any Child born with magic in a magical family, who have reached magical maturity by their 11th birthday must attend an ICW certified Magical Institution till they gain sufficient OWLs to be declared a trained Mage, in accordance with the 'Law of mandatory Magical Education, 1701'.

Term begins on September 1st. Instructions, a necessary list of Requirements and directions to reach Hogwarts would be delivered once the acceptance is confirmed. A line of communication can be opened if the pupil or guardians have any queries regarding Education at Hogwarts School by a letter addressed to the school before the last date of acceptance.

We await your acceptance by no later than 31st July of the year 1856 with an accompanied Gringotts draft of 200G or the same can be deposited at the Ministry of magic, Department of education, Mandated by the Ministry of Magic, Britain, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales.

Yours sincerely,

Eupraxia Mole

Deputy Headmistress,

Master of Charms, Master of Dark arts.

Huh. This letter was different and much more detailed than Sirius was expecting. He re-read it and noted that it was clearly a better version of the Acceptance letter than one Harry had received. Even if it didn't have shopping and booklist. This meant that there were more subtle changes in this world, or something had happened in the next century or so. Or harry had received a personalised 'invitation' which didn't have an option to deny acceptance.

Nevertheless, Sirius was beyond happy to finally receive this invitation. This was what he was looking forward to since he was a child. In both lives. Finally, he was going to go to Hogwarts, and he couldn't wait. It was just his luck that he would have to wait for the next 8 months.

His brother finally reached his limit of patience and snatched the letter from his hand to read it for himself. He just looked at Phineas as his brothers' cheeks turned red in childish envy.

"I want to go to Hogwarts too." Phineas declared loudly.

Father just chuckled at his younger son's impatience and said, "You would also go there in 3 years son."

"No, I want to go with Brother now." He petulantly said and father signed and looked at his wife.

"Phineas don't forget your manners in a juvenile fit. You would receive it when you turn 11. Now give that parchment to your father and go get ready for your lesson." Their mother scolded Phineas who gave the letter to their father and ran away from the dining hall with Ella running behind him.

They were as close as siblings could be, and Sirius missed when he was that carefree. He had responsibilities now and he had already enjoyed 2 childhoods. He shouldn't be greedy.

Even if He had been struck in training Since January and today was a short respite for him.

Since 13th January of 1856, he had to wake up every day at sunrise and train under the martial magic master his father had hired for him in the mornings till breakfast.

The physical aspect of martial magic which was learnt without staff had left his body aching and limbs heavy for the first month or so, after that, he had adapted and exceeded. Daily runs through the forest near their estate, survival training in harsh conditions and much more was fitted in his brain on daily basis.

He was trained in physical fighting and was given the staff of his ancestor Lord Rigel Black, through which he leaned to harness elemental spells. This was the only magic he was allowed as at the moment staff was doing the heavy loading while he was just a passenger. He would learn to control the given weapon when he had enough control over his magic according to his father, who had been presented him with the staff one day in March.

It had taken him just a month to control his staff and if his tutor had noticed, he hadn't told his father about this. He had given it his all and learnt the skill with tears, blood and sweat. He would do anything to survive, as those challenges were deadly.

His tutor had been impressed with him and had offered him an apprenticeship when he was of age if he was still interested in it by that point, and he had politely put the offer in the back of his mind for now as this was a decision for later.

Then after the martial magic training, he had a 3-hour long lesson on a branch of magic. There were primarily 6 subjects taught to him by specialized masters his father had hired from around the world.

- Transfiguration

- Charms

- Defense and offence

- Herbology with Potions

- Astronomy with ritual studies

- Magical creatures – Care, harvest, and defense.

He wasn't allowed a wand yet, but he had a carved Stick in a similar shape to a wand for practising wand movements like Flick, Jab, Point, Roll, Swirl, Swish, Tap, Twirl, Twist, Wave and many more. His theory was immaculate for at least 5 years of Hogwarts education and some more out of the syllabus knowledge by now and he couldn't wait to try the magic. He was even allowed a few black family tomes of old to pursue additional contents from the 3rd floor of the library.

After that, for 2 hours he worked on his mind arts in a secluded space. His grandfather had given him the same book as he had taken from Murray's home to advance his shields. He had already read that book cover to cover many times so he gave it to Phineas in secret, so his brother can learn to protect his mind. He did help his brother in learning by practising Legilimency wandlessly on him after removing both their pendants inside the safety of their chambers, so the detection device could not interfere. He never went inside his brother's mind or pried his secrets, just practised on detecting surface emotions and thoughts as only that could be done without harming Phineas' mind.

Sirius had spent some time analysing the pendant with the help of Kint. He never really had to use it but it was clearly good protection for children or elves, as kint had declared. House-elves didn't have natural shields or any kind of shields. Their mind wasn't developed to that degree yet, that they could comprehend the matter of protection of the mind. That is why kint had graciously helped him with his project pendant.

He took lunch with his mother, Siblings and Aunt Polly, after which he entertained his siblings while secretly practising and refining his wandless magic unseen from the eyes of others till the evening tea or attended social events his presence was required with his adults.

After tea, he had his Fencing, Riding, Swimming, Etiquette/Dancing, Languages, and ancient runes lessons for at least 2 hours daily, where Phineas and Ella joined him sometimes.

After the long day, He took dinner with the whole family in the formal dining hall with his grandfather and father taking note of his progress and giving suggestions on things he was struck at.

After the dinner, until Kint forced him to sleep, which was usually by 10 PM, he tinkered with different things he was interested in, in his private chambers.

He was given every Sunday as respite and he flew or fenced with Phineas, played chess with Mr Edward, spent time with house-elves, or socialised with underage children of their staff on grounds behind the muggle manor, which was very safe now. He didn't exert himself much on Sunday and usually only practised his occlumency and wandless magic in private.

His mother always looked at him in disapproval whenever she found him mixing with 'rabble' or 'critters' according to her. He didn't care as his mother was not someone who would raise her wand at him, and his father and grandfather were too busy to usually notice or care. They had been his age once and he was sure that they were quite a bit unruly than him if Mr Edward was to be believed.

Sirius looked at the letter he had written with instructions from his father, who had given him a 200G draft to put in the envelope with his acceptance letter.

He had discussed which school to attend with his father, who had chosen Hogwarts for him. He had even said that his brother would join him in Hogwarts while his sister's fate was undecided for now.

He had also written 2 letters rejecting the invitations from French and German schools, stating his regret, and telling them that he was attending his parents' alma matter. He had written those rejection letters in the respective languages of the schools as told by his father. It was a subtle power play according to his father who said that this showed that he was qualified for attending those schools, but he chose not to attend them to Honor the family tradition. While the foreign schools had shown respect to their prestigious house by inviting him to study there, he was to show respect to the other school even in his rejection like a Gentlemen.

According to his father, every Black family Heir apparent had attended Hogwarts since the founding of the school and he was following in the steps of his ancestors. Even he and his sisters had received the letters from beauxbatons and Durmstrang since their family was involved in business with both schools regarding something.

All 3 letters were incomplete without his personal seal as an heir apparent and his father had told him to wait to post them as Sirius had yet to receive a signet ring defining his status. He hadn't questioned much as he knew that Phineas and he both wore the same signet rings with the Black family crest, and those rings must be common for all black born children and an Heir apparent would be given a different ring when found acceptable.

After spending an afternoon with their father, who regaled his own Hogwarts experience with all 3 children hanging on his every word, Sirius had picked up on an undercurrent of something from his fathers' tone and words.

His father was stressed about something, which Sirius was unaware of, and he had tried to pry a bit but was shut off as subtly as he has tried to know. But whatever it was, it was related to the mother. There was something going on between his father and mother, but the rest of the household was unaware of this.

Their grandfather must have an inkling of what was going on, but he had sealed lips and the rest of them were unaware.

The rest of the evening he spent with Phineas on the broom playing quidditch, while Mr Edward acted as referee and a medic for them. He healed various bruises and cuts both brothers and various other children of the staff received while playing the rough game with low powered bludgers flying around.

It was a pleasant day for Sirius, and he hadn't pestered his father for the wand as his father had told him to wait for a day.

In the evening after the dinner was finished, everyone except little Ella was summoned to the Family's tapestry room, by the Head of their house.

His grandfather took his signet ring and occlumency pendent declaring him old enough to protect his mind and then gave him a ring defining his status as Heir apparent of the family as Cygnus was still officially the heir of the Blacks.

Sirius accepted the Heir apparent ring with grace and gratitude. As he wore the ring, he could feel the subtle protections laid and woven in the Heir apparent ring. It was a greater exchange as he knew that his family won't leave his mind unguarded even if they declared him competent in Occlumency. The Heir apparent ring would function similar to the pendant.

After grandfather gave me the ring, my father gave me a small key with Gringotts insignia, which I recognised from the draft signed by him. He explained that this was key to my personal vault which also functioned as a trust vault. It had a base amount of 11,000 galleons, and he would deposit 1000 galleons every year on his birthday till he turned 21. The vault was fully at his disposal to do as he wished.

He was grateful for this and showed appropriate thanks to his father. Then his mother came forward and gave him an ornate small box.

There was a pocket watch in it, which might have looked ancient to me in my previous life, but it was a standard here. It was a gold watch with diamonds encrusted in it. Clearly a very expensive timepiece. I promised her that I would cherish it and she gave a beautiful smile at my words. She told me that it had multiple uses, which I had to discover at my leisure.

It was a good day overall and Sirius couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts. He just had to finish that pesky challenge and defeat his cousin. Except that his life was shaping out to be quite good.

Chapter Text

Sirius was sitting in a lotus pose in his room under the moonlight which was coming in from the balcony. He had instructed his trusty partner in crime, kint to wake him up if he fell under too deep somehow. With that, he dived into the memory of last night's dream again and again and again to access his core just like he had done accidentally last night but he got lost in his mind and woke up the next day with kint shaking him to wake up.

"Master Sirius, kint be waking you. It be near sunrise."

He woke up to Kint's murmuring and then stretched his body which had almost turned into a statue because of staying in one pose the whole night. Huh, he didn't achieve what he was trying to do but it was alright.

If this was something easy, then many people would have already been aware of this. He needed to research that phenomenon. Maybe it only occurred because of that alchemical solution his father had given him. Or only because his core was going through change last night. Anyways, he would achieve it again, he was nothing if not persistent.

He did his usual training with his martial magic instructor and felt spells coming to him easier that day as well as he had superior control over his movements. His instructor already knew that he had his birthday yesterday that's why he didn't comment on my instant improvements.

After the training and a bath in a claw-foot bathtub present in his chambers, He got ready for the day. Kint laid out fancier clothes than usual meaning he was going to meet people today or go out. He didn't have his usual lessons today; he was going to accompany his father to the Diagon Alley.

They were going to get his wand today. He couldn't wait to get a wand. It wasn't that he couldn't do magic without it, he had his staff, potions, and wandless magic, but the wand was something he had grown up seeing used by all his family members and the magical portion of the staff.

Even Augustus had bought a wand when Mr Edward found him ready to begin his practical education. He had shown it proudly to everyone and all the younger children had oohed and ahhed seeing his brand-new wand. Cherry wood and kneazle whisker, 9 inches long and slightly bent, costing him 4 galleons as Ministry discount wasn't available to him.

Augustus was proud of his wand but still regretted missing the opportunity of attending Hogwarts after various people told him about their experience at the prestigious school. Not that his parents could've afforded it. Even if Muggleborns didn't need to pay fees, they still needed to buy the list of equipment on their own and with a currency value of 2.13 pounds = 1 galleon, it wasn't possible for them.

12-15 pounds or 5-6 galleons were the cost of basic low-quality equipment per year excluding wand, which has been standardized by the ministry for Hogwarts students only. Muggleborns weren't even allowed in Diagon alley until they or their guardians signed binding contracts with Hogwarts or in some cases, orphans with the ministry.

They would collect money from the parents and accompany the muggleborns or muggle raised children to an alley nearest to them only after the finalization of terms and conditions, where Floo was present for further travel. There were a few second-hand and charity shops available for folks in Turnaround alley, which ministry people preferred to use for muggleborns shopping.

Only wands were bought new at a first-time purchase base price of 3 galleons a piece from Ollivanders which was compulsory. If the wand cost more than 3 galleons, it was covered by Hogwarts as per the contract. Many people didn't bother in the case of the wand and just paid the full amount as the wand was the most necessary thing for mages.

Muggle Families who could afford were given the option of paying the full fees or some part of the fees for a lighter workload contract with Hogwarts for education or in rare cases were allowed to send their children to one of 2 trade schools in the British Isles, which accepted pupils from every background at very low cost with a different contract. They were not reputed enough for 'real' mages but were rather used for housing and teaching squibs basics of the muggle world till they turned 15-17.

The contracts were generally used so that the students would be obliged to pay for their board and food while receiving education by working at greenhouses, creature pens, farms, kitchens, laundry, or various other places in the school itself.

Hogwarts was as much as business as it was a school. It had about 1000-1500 students attending at any given time and only 20-25% of them were muggleborns but about 70-75% of the students had signed the working contract, which included several Half-bloods as well purebloods from weaker economic backgrounds. Hogwarts' work-study contract had many benefits as students learnt a few trades while gaining an education that would help them in the real world.

My letter didn't have an option for this as even Hogwarts staff knew who they were inviting, wizengmort families and families of ministry office employees were only presented with a work-study contract on demand, and they usually used it only if they were desperate. My grandfather would have probably razed the school at the insult if they had added the option of any kind of contract, even if they added a communication clause for 'just in case.'

Back to Augustus's case, according to him, his family barely had enough to eat 2 meals a day so even the cost of equipment was enormous for them. About 20 pounds per annum only for equipment were a lot for even a middle-class family and as he wasn't an orphan, the ministry orphan fund of a total of 10 galleons with a year-round contract (for 7 years) wasn't available to him. They had 7 limited slots for that contract and only if those slots were not filled till the last date of Hogwarts acceptance, they could be offered to muggleborns.

The Ministry representative had even offered his parents a modified contract which stated that if they were willing to give their child permanently to ministry, they would take him in exchange for zero communication and forget about ever having a child from then onwards. It was at that point Augustus's father had picked his butcher's knife, so ministry and Hogwarts representative had retreated marking it as a lost cause. They had those 2-3 times per year with muggleborns.

But Augustus's situation worsened after that, his family finally knew that their son was a wizard and worked him to the bone to suppress anything demonic in him. They were even debating to take him to church to exorcise him, he had listened hidden from them and was planning to run away soon. But then he was kidnapped, and he had decided not to go back after being rescued. He existed in a sort of grey zone being a Muggleborn who was not attending Hogwarts. He could have gone to Hogwarts, but he would have to wait for the next academic session for that and till that came around, he liked having a job and financial independence, where he was learning magic as well.

Not that life as a black household servant was bad. He earned a total of 36G or 76.5 pounds a year (3G or 6.37 Per month) while side by side learning under various staff members. He had a post of houseboy, which was being an errand boy of staff members. As food and board were included in the employment contract, he spent most of the money he earned on his education, clothing, and entertainment. Most employees preferred to be paid in half muggle money and half wizarding money as it was easier to spend without the hassle of going to the bank.

Sirius was curious one day when Mr Edward was handling the budget and he had peeked in some documents. Their household employed about 50-55 human staff which included both magical and squibs as well as they had 6 elves. He had asked Mr Edward about why they were employing such a high number of staff and he had said it was partly for appearance in front of muggles and partly to run the estate smoothly without overworking anyone.

Their family was an exception in this as most magical households overworked their elves, but blacks used elves more for business purposes, so they hired human staff under binding contracts. Blacks owned an elf breeding farm in Ireland which was a great source of income for them.

In the end, their household had a budget of approximately 4000 - 5000G per annum to maintain both residences along with grounds, gardens, and greenhouses. This was excluding other expenses like food, tutors, clothing, travel, equipment, entertainment etc. which was another 3000 – 5000 galleons depending on how many and how lavish balls, parties or get-togethers were hosted that year.

As the value of,

1 knut = 1 Penny

1 Sickle = 1 half-crown or 2 shilling/6 pennies

1 Galleon = 2 pounds/half-crown or 8 crowns/half-crown or 42 shillings/6 pennies,

while there were,

1 shilling = 12 pennies

½ crown = 2 shillings/6 pennies

1 crown = 5 shillings

1 pound = 20 shillings or 4 crowns

In Gringotts terms, there were

1 sickle = 29 knuts

1 galleons = 17 sickles or 493 knuts

So, the Black family was spending from somewhere around 7k – 10k galleons (15k to 21k pounds) yearly in just living costs. In the mid-19th century. He had been stumped after realizing that while Mr Edward who had been a staff member in various capacities for the last 90 years had just smiled at him and sent him away.

He currently had about 16k galleons at his disposal, as his personal/trust vault which a fortune to most had with 1k G with 1k G increment every year and another 4k G was in his mokeskin pouch taken from Murray's home/vault. There was also about 1k G he had gotten from various family members on different occasions growing up for one thing or other.

Sirius got ready for the day while thinking about Augustus who he was having trained in valet/butler/steward capacity under Mr Edward who has expressed the desire to retire soon with his wife now he was over 105 years old, even if he didn't look like it.

He had breakfast with his family after which he collected his hat, formal outerwear robe which had extended pockets and his mokeskin pouch. He looked at the Mokeskin pouch he was using for the last few years and decided that he needed a new one.

"Ready son?" his father asked donning his robe and hat.

"Yes, father" Sirius replied happily in anticipation.

"We would take a carriage today.' His father said they both left the house, and a coachman pulled a carriage for them. A footman jumped and opened the door as well as put the stairs and the father-son duo boarded the carriage. Sirius noted that they were taking a Hippogriff carriage, which had 2 hippogriffs bound at the front, this was a general use carriage. He liked the abraxan or thestral carriage better as they were smoother but were used on different occasions and a thestral carriage was mainly used for intimidation by his grandfather. Eh, he was a spoiled young master, what could he say.

They reached London an hour later while his father gave him a lecture on how to deal with goblins. Every vault owner was expected to know the basic protocols of conducting business in goblin bank to avoid another goblin rebellion.

Last happened just about 65 years ago when a pureblood house had insulted goblins inside the bank and called them beggars for charging too much for every single service.

It had lasted a few months after that, the 8 generations old Colmer family became bankrupt as well as several allies faced heavy losses in business.

His father told him that Blacks maintained a balance of measly 1 million Galleons in various vaults at the British branch itself, which wasn't even 1% of their wealth and the rest of their wealth was secured in different branches of Gringotts in Europe as well as several dwarves run banks and a several muggle banks around the world.

They even had a highly guarded material vault as well in the bank for priceless jewellery, tomes, artefacts, official parchment scrolls, and other important things.

Every goblin run branch was run by a different clan, Britain had Gringotts while other countries had their clans responsible for their money. Only one thing was the same across the banks, that was the coinage system. ICW had regulated the coinage system in the late 17th century just after the statute of secrecy was enacted as wizarding folks were facing problems while dealing with money after separating from their muggle counterparts. Various banks had to spend years tracking down muggles who had somehow ended up with wizarding coinage. It had been the basis of another rebellion that had ended in strict regulation of distribution and circulation of money.

Gringotts in particular provided various services to its customers who had a certain amount in their vaults. They don't mention other services to those without ample balance in vaults.

The Black families had favourable dealings with goblins in the various countries as they were the provider of over 60% of meat and 30% of herbs to them as well as various other important things. They had their manager who was responsible for the dealings between blacks and goblins in Britain and likewise in different countries.

Sirius listened to his father carefully as this was an important aspect of life in the wizarding world. Money was something they had without bounds but if they couldn't deal with people handling their money, they won't survive for long.

They finally landed in a park specially reserved for carriage landing in one of the alleys. This reminded Sirius of another important thing.

While muggles didn't have aeroplanes right now, they would become common in about a century. And then satellites would be used for various things, and it would be impossible to hide their existence. He didn't know how they had hidden everything from muggles in harry potter's time, but he won't leave it on chance. He had ample time to work on it later.

They were in the horizontal alley, a rich offshoot of Diagon alley filled with expensive restaurants and other service providers for the upper echelon of society.

The father-son duo made their way to the main alley and came out near the middle of Diagon Alley. 'Their destination Gringotts was just a few paces away, but his father took him to wand maker first.

The shop was a narrow and shabby structure with peeling gold letters over the door of the shop read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

They entered the shop, and the interior of the shop displayed a solitary wand lying on a blue cushion by the dusty window. The shop was tiny, empty except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. Thousands of narrow boxes containing wands were piled right up to the ceiling of the tiny shop, and the whole place had a thin layer of dust about it.

A bell jingled as they entered, and a man appeared behind the counter. He had long silver tresses of hair and silver eyes that looked as if they were peering in your soul itself. The man was wearing a navy-blue robe with a bronze pattern representing Ravenclaw, a house of Hogwarts proudly.

"Welcome Sons of the house of black." He greeted in a voice that had Sirius and Cygnus straighten at attention.

"Mr Ollivanders." His father greeted the man behind the counter and said,

"My son has recently had his magical maturity; he would like to buy a wand."

Mr Ollivanders peered at Sirius,

"Do you feel ready to bond a wand young Mr Black?" he questioned in a serious tone.

"Yes Mr Ollivanders, I am anticipating this moment for a long time," Sirius replied seriously to the wandmaker looking in his eyes.

An inch tape flew over them and started measuring Sirius.

"Very well. We at Ollivanders uses various combinations of wood and core suitable for young wizards such as yourself. Now, which hand would you prefer using?" Ollivanders asked Sirius while pulling various dusty boxes randomly from the shelves.

"My right hand is dominant, but I would like to learn to handle my wand with my non-dominant." He replied to Mr Ollivanders while staring at the inch tape measuring his fingers one by one. He got an approving nod from his father at his words.

"you're a sensible one, aren't you. Not many realise this and only learn later in difficult situations." Mr Ollivanders creepily smiled at him while presenting a wand to him.

"Here try this."

With that wandmaker started presenting him wand after wand which didn't react to him at all.

Mr Ollivanders was looking peeved at this.

"What are you using as a focus currently lad?" he finally asked when 10th wand refused to bond with him.

"I have a staff." He replied honestly as it wasn't something to hide.

"May I have a look?" Wandmaker requested and Sirius complied.

He summoned the staff out of his mokeskin pouch and presented it to Mr Ollivanders.

He examined the staff while humming something.

"5 foot 7 inches, made of Ebony, with dragon heartstrings core from 2 mated ancient dragons and obsidian as a stabilizer. Work of legendary 'Theobald of Pengarth'. Approximately crafted over 1300 years ago. Has faced many battles and turbulence of changing times, wielded by legends in their time." He murmured looking at the staff in reverence.

"Yes, this is a black family heirloom, which matched young Sirius's temperament Mr Ollivanders." His father clarified seeing that the wandmaker was lost in thoughts.

"Ah yes, yes. It is indeed an heirloom but suitable for Mr Black here." He said returning the staff to Sirius.

Then he went to the back of the shop and came out with 3 boxes which looked older than others.

"Here try this Mr black." He said presenting a very plain looking redwood wand to Sirius.

Sirius picked it up and felt a tingle go down his arm and then spread to his body while the wand shot out a few weak silver sparks.

"No not this. Close but not perfect." Mr Ollivanders said taking the wand from him and the gave him another wand which was similarly plain-looking but dark brown.

This time the wand connected to him instantly, but its response was only slightly better than the last one with few bronze sparks.

Mr Ollivanders took that wand back and then opened the third box and which had a white unvarnished wand, unlike all others.

He presented me with the box itself instead of the wand.

Sirius picked the wand from the box and felt an instant connection to the wand which let out a shower of golden sparks and bathed the whole shop with them. Mr Ollivanders looked revealed and said,

"13 inches, Aspen wood, with half a scale of last known slain chimaera and half a scale of a now-extinct ancient great white dragon, unvarnished and over 1 and a half millennium old crafted by my ancestor, who also crafted the wands which bonded with Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin in their time."

Sirius and his father didn't say anything for a few moments, staring at the wand which was apparently contained now extinct materials and was crafted by one of the celebrated wandmakers in history.

"Is this the only wand like this in existence?" Sirius asked the wandmaker, now holding unto the wand a bit tightly. He had felt like he found a missing part of his soul itself when he had bonded with it.

"That's debatable young black, my ancestor had used similar cores in 6 other wands with different woods and all of them had bonded over the years with worthy mages. The Last was sold some 700 years ago, this is the 7th and last one present in my shop but there might be other 6 still around. This combination was also popular in the Greek region in the last millennium." Ollivanders replied to Sirius in a lecturer's voice.

"Thank you, sir. How much I owe you for this?" he asked rummaging around his mokeskin pouch and looking around for galleons.

"13 galleons." Mr Ollivanders declared. It was expensive as hell for someone from the working class but still a tame cost for something so ancient that it was equal to a museum relic or family heirloom.

While Sirius pulled out a few gold galleons, his father had already moved forward and paid Mr Ollivanders for his ware.

They left the shop after 20 mins of entering it and Sirius couldn't be happier.

"I'm proud of you son, being chosen by such an ancient wand is no small feat." His father said to him patting his back.

"Thank you, father. I'd do this wand justice.' He said smiling sowing his wand to his father.

The father-son duo moved towards their next destination.

A/N - Hello my Dear readers,

This is the longest chapter till now with major information dump and world-building. Feel free to skip over conversation rates but a lot of research went into it. It was fun though. Also, Feel free to share your thoughts on various things stated here.

So, who would like to guess what Sirius would specialize in by knowing his wand wood and core?

An exhausted author who wrote this chapter in one day.

Toodles!

Chapter Text

Sirius was worried. his mother was bedridden. He couldn't concentrate on his training properly, he had to soothe his siblings' worries and he was stressed. Due to upcoming challenges. His tutors were not helping, working him to bone daily as he had finally gotten a wand.

It was nearing yule and their mother was bedridden for the last few weeks. All the adults were tight-lipped, and Sirius and his siblings weren't allowed even near where their mother was resting. He had tried to sneak in but for the first time, there were individual powerful wards on the infirmary which needed above-average knowledge of waring to bypass.

Sirius watched the burning yule log while playing a card game with 9 years old Phineas and an almost 6 years old Elladora. They were drinking hot chocolate, which kint had made them on Sirius's insistence. Their father and grandfather were also there, taking a much-needed break from the usual soirees they were invited to on account of their mother's illness.

Suddenly Mr Edward came into the room and moved towards Cygnus, his age visible on his face. He said something in his ear, which Sirius tried to listen to but failed.

Their father rushed out of the room and as I stood up to follow, Grandfather ordered them to go to their rooms. Ella looked close to tears; she was the most affected by our mother's mysterious illness.

Sirius took his siblings to his chambers, where they all cuddled in the bed, Ella finally sleeping after crying her eyes out. They slept uneasily and some hours later an unnervingly silent kint woke him up. He opened his mouth to ask something but then saw his siblings sleeping peacefully. He left the bedroom for the living room/study area followed by kint.

"What is it kint? Is mother alright?" He asked as he had previously ordered kint to keep an ear and eye on the happenings in the household.

"Master Sirius, Mistress Black be having a little mistress late in the night. Little missy be being sick. Mistress be hurting." kint said with tears in his eyes.

Sirius hugged the little fellow and thought about what he said.

He then deduced that according to kint, their mother was pregnant and had given birth to a daughter late in the night but as he didn't see the usual signs of pregnancy on her previously, it meant the baby was most likely premature and the pregnancy, as well as birth, had complications. He clearly remembered how his mother had looked when she was heavy with Phineas and Elladora a few years back.

So, this was most likely the reason for the tense environment in their home. he raked his brain to see what he remembered from the HP series about this event. He had sorted his memories when he started learning occlumency but didn't need those memories of a past life as he was trying to learn everything without a biased foundation which was what HP was in this period. He didn't remember a lot from his own life and had lost a lot, but he captured the essence of the most important things.

He traced back the black family tree which he only knew because he had stumbled upon it on the internet. There was a black mark on the spot of the 4th child of Cygnus and Ella black. A girl named Iola, ran away to marry a muggle and was burned from the tapestry for that.

He could live with that, he would have the power and resources to support and protect his newest sibling if something like that occurred in future, but right now his youngest sister was unnamed and not even a day old and his mother was also not faring well.

He freshened up, donned some plain loose clothes which equaled exercise clothes in that period and made his way towards the infirmary before leaving for his mandatory martial training.

As he passed the parlour on his way to sneak into the infirmary, which he knew was not possible but hoped that wards would be lax as it wasn't properly morning yet, he heard his father calling him inside.

"Yes, father? Is mother alright? Can I visit her" He questioned his father who looked like he didn't sleep the whole night and was nursing a whiskey at 5 in the morning!

"Sit down!" his father growled, and he sat down immediately. He had rarely seen his father angry or irritated.

"Your mother is fine, she would need a few to recover from the childbirth." He said taking a sip from his glass.

"Childbirth?" He exclaimed, perhaps overdoing it a bit which made his father give him a look that said, 'you can't fool me!'

"Yes, you have another sister, but she is early and unwell. The healer is keeping them under observation for now." Cygnus said a bit bitterly.

"Oh, when can I meet her?" Sirius asked ignoring his father's tone.

"Soon. Now run to the training grounds and don't disturb your mother. She may be allowed visitors later." Cygnus ordered curtly and sent Sirius away. Looked like his father wasn't happy with mother's condition or having another girl or due to some entirely other reason.

Sirius had no intention of disturbing his mother in such a delicate state. An unbidden memory from long ago made its way in his mind, 'a sobbing brown-haired woman was holding an unmoving baby and a blonde man was silently crying sitting at her side.' Sirius remembered, he had lost a lot from his past life never to recover but he remembered at least the faces of his college friends, they had fallen in love young and then had a stillbirth, not even a year into their marriage. He was to be the godfather of the child of his two dearest friends.

Sirius trained lost in emotions that morning and he got an ass whopping from his instructor for being absent-minded. He tightened his occlumency shields and got back to work.

The days passed in the usual manner, albeit it was bleak without loud squabbling of his siblings who were having increasing incidents of accidental magic and their governess who was running behind them the whole day trying to contain the chaos as if that was possible with children of their age.

On the yule that they were finally allowed to visit their mother. Elladora and Phineas were quite excited about having a new sister, but she was under the special care of healers, and we were not allowed to visit her.

The Greengrass family was hosting yule ball at their manor that year and Sirius had to attend with his grandfather to represent their family. Grandfather was hoisting more and more duties to father from the last couple of years and balls usually fell under his father's preview now but this year his father was unavailable due to obvious reasons. It wasn't the first time he had to attend a ball, but it was certainly the first time he tried to make acquaintances with his peers.

"Good evening, merry yule to you all." Sirius greeted a group of 3 boys standing at the sidelines who he knew would be attending Hogwarts with him. He had seen them on various occasions but had never tried to interact before today.

"Good evening. You're the Black heir apparent. Are you not?" a chubby brown-haired boy questioned him while the sharp-eyed blond hair boy peered at him with calculating eyes.

"Indeed, I am him and you're the eldest son of Heir Flint." He said nodding his head in politeness towards the boy and showing is heir ring.

"Yes, my father is the heir right now, but I've heard that grandfather is thinking of passing the lordship." The Flint boy boasted showing off his own signet ring.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance Heir Black, are you attending with Elder Lord Black today?" The red-haired kid asked in a pompous manner which reminded him of children playing dress-up even if he himself was one such child right now.

"Yes, Father and mother are occupied so grandfather thought it would be a good opportunity for me to be seen in society." He replied to the redhead who he knew was a Prewett.

"Yes, it seems your family has been missing in the society since the Samhain ball at Lord Barnett." The blond boy who was a Malfoy snarked in a manner that could be considered vexing if Sirius was the type of person to take offence at children's words.

"Yes Heir Malfoy, I assure you the reason would be soon apparent to the ton in a matter of few weeks." Sirius politely replied.

"Did you receive your Hogwarts letter yet Heir Black? I can't wait for my birthday when I would receive mine." Flint interrupted oblivious to the frostiness.

"Yes, mine came through on my 11th birthday, which was about 2 months ago. You shall receive yours in due time and please call me Sirius. We all are to be peers at Hogwarts soon enough." Sirius said keeping his tone just polite enough to engage the others in the conversation as well.

"Yes, we are to be peers in less than a year. Call me Burton Sirius." Burton Flint replied.

"I received my letter 2 weeks ago on my birthday. And do call me Cloyd," Prewett kid said with happiness reflecting on his face.

"Oh, did you get your wand yet Cloyd?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, 10 inches of willow and unicorn hair, it's a good wand for charms according to Mr Ollivander," Prewett said proudly taking out his wand which he was carrying with him apparently.

"Well, mine is 11 and a half inches of oak and Dragon heartstring, a powerful wand father said." Malfoy boasted showing off his wand.

"I wonder what mine might be. I cannot wait for another month for my letter." Burton moaned looking at his peers' wands rather fascinated.

"Well, mine is 13 inches of aspen wood and dragon scale of an extinct dragon. Mr Ollivander said it is one of the oldest wands in his shop." Sirius replied to Malfoy's boasting taking out his own pale wand which was unvarnished and had a powerful feeling to it. Malfoy was irritating and he couldn't help himself from showing off and putting the kid in his place. He needed better control over his actions but Malfoy reminded him of something unpleasant.

Malfoy looked at his wand with wide eyes while Prewett and Flint snickered at Malfoy's expression.

"Do you know when we would be going to Hogwarts?" Burton asked them.

"My letter said that we must arrive on 1st September and that too by something called Train," Cloyd whispered loudly in a scandalous tone.

"What is a train even?" Burton asked in a curious voice.

"I heard father saying it is a muggle nonsense ministry is forcing us to ride in to reach Hogwarts." Darius Malfoy said in a haughty tone.

"Train is multiple horseless carriages joined together which runs on the specially made path," Sirius answered youngest of them ignoring Malfoy yet again.

"Oh, it is going to be so marvellous finally going to Hogwarts. My mother says it is beautiful beyond comprehension." Cloyd said in a dreamy voice.

"Yes, but I loath to leave my brother and sister behind. They would be miserable when I leave." Sirius said taking a fruity drink from a passing house elf.

Their discussion continued for quite a while covering from their siblings to Hogwarts, to houses to sorting and even to quidditch. They only stopped when Malfoy left in a huff as he wasn't the centre of attention in their little group.

It was New Year's Eve when their mother finally joined them at celebrations, their little sister was still under the care of healers and would probably remain there for a few weeks, but they were allowed to look at her from the far. She was Tiny!

As the new year came, Sirius's training took a harder turn.

The last few months had been stressful for him but now the time of challenge was nearing so his father had cut down on distractions and doubled his schedule.

His grandfather had tested his occlumency shields and was beyond impressed by their strength praising him for having the shields even an adult would be envious of.

Sirius hadn't even shown his mindscape and had weakened his shields to hide a few floating decoy memories to look impressive but not too much that they would raise questions.

His martial magic master had doubled down on him after he got his wand and had taught him magic while using both wand and staff simultaneously. It was beyond exhausting and draining but Sirius could feel his core getting clearer and denser the more magic he used so he did what he was told and more.

He had learnt the wand magic taught in the first two years at Hogwarts and had started the 3rd-year syllabus a fortnight ago under the guidance of his various tutors. The tutors knew that Sirius would face life-threatening challenges, so they didn't hold back or question much about the level of content while teaching advanced magic to an 11-year-old child.

He had learnt a few nifty tricks and shortcuts for performing wand magic and he felt grateful that he was getting the opportunity to learn at his own pace under the certified masters of the field, which was much quicker than his peers.

He was keeping correspondence with Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett, and they were jealous of him learning magic before going to Hogwarts but being in the primary line to inherit, they understood that what he was doing was out of duty and obligation to his family. They had good heads on the shoulder and Sirius felt that they would be pleasant companions or perhaps even friends at the school with their above-average intelligence.

His opponent had turned 11 on 3rd January of that year and he knew that challenges would be relatively easy for him particularly but even then, fit to be performed by prepubescent children, they would be deadly as no one can call a Black sane.

And Lord Merula was above all a Black by blood running in his veins even if it had been 6 generations since their branch had split.

On the other hand, he should never underestimate his other distant cousin as well as opponent, Heir Noir. distant at 4 generations, they still had black bloodthirstiness.

He was examined from head to toe by a healer 3 weeks prior to the first challenge and the healer started him on a course of nutrients and protein potions to build some mass he was lacking due to him being tall for his age. His father had approved the potions course for the next 3 weeks as Sirius was not gaining weight as a child his age should be due to daily exhaustion.

Sirius felt he couldn't be more prepared for the challenge.

---------------------------------

A/N - Hello Dear Readers!

So my keyboard broke and I binge watched second season of 'Bridgeton', that's why there was delay in publishing this chapter.

Next chapter would be first challenge!

Hope you enjoy this and do leave comments!

Kudos and bookmarks are always encouraged!

Toodles!

Chapter Text

It was a usual cold day in Berlin, Germany at 2 degrees Celsius. Elder Lord Black, six and a hundred years of age, studied his heir, his grandson. The boy looked fine and ready for this. He felt fading traces of regret and felt proud of the child of his child. His grandson would make a fine head of the family if he survived this farce of challenge. He had confidence but fear was also present in his heart. He wished he had rejected the challenge, but Noir was insistent and Merula was all but giddy to send boys to death. His pride had been his weakness.

This was the death penalty, not a challenge. But he was confident that Sirius would come at top of this. He looked at the other child forced into this farce and felt a heavyweight in his heart. The lad looked confident on the edge of arrogance, no doubt a doing of his father. Christopher noir was the heir apparent and son of Jacques noir, a fine lad by all measures but not built to face life-threatening challenges.

He was sure he would be mourning a life lost this early when this farce is over. His grandson has already escaped death once and the lad had a spirit of a survivor but a similar couldn't be said for the son of Noir.

He prayed to Mother Gaia to bless both boys to come out alive.

The first challenge of 'Jus sanguinis et primogenitura' was to collect 3 keys using a chosen flying beast in mountains and nearby areas. The hunt would go on for 3 days with them being granted money to buy whatever they needed beforehand on their own to survive in the cold mountains without any outside help.

They had been isolated from their families by Lord Merula, where only Lord Merula's 13 years old son, Donato Merula kept them company and helped them with purchasing their supplies in a German wizarding market.

Christopher hadn't treated Donato well, quipping here and there at his squib status for the whole day they shopped as well as general snobbish 'I am better than you' behaviour. Sirius had tried to talk to his French relative about his behaviour but was rebuffed. He had left him to dig his own grave then.

Meanwhile, he had talked to his distant relative Donato and got acquainted with him. He didn't care about him being a squib. Donato was a pleasant company with none of the arrogance which usually came with one's position on the society's ladder. Being a squib was not pleasant for him in the last few years, he had lost much and only his father shielded him from the ridicule with even servants being rude to him back home.

He purchased appropriate gear and extra supplies needed with the recommendation of the older boy and his geographic knowledge of the landscape and threats. They noticed Christopher trying to listen in to their conversations a few times, but it seemed that the boy's German was not up to the par to keep up if the frustration visible plain of his face was any sign. And Christopher was too proud to ask for help, but Donato gave the boy a list of necessary things which he took while grumbling.

Sirius was ready for the challenge while his mother fussed over him after not seeing him for a few days and was passing his father rather frosty looks, having to leave her infant daughter behind in the care of healers in the villa they were staying in. She was unaware of the nature of the challenges previously; his father had kept important information from her with her already ongoing stressful conditions. Grandfather was no help, staying out of his son's martial quarrels entirely.

Christopher, his sole opponent, and the heir of the Noir family looked overconfident. His father had taken him camping in the mountains before and he was ready for the challenge. No doubt set this challenge, but Sirius was sure that Lord Noir had never endured a day of hardship in his life and thus his son was imagining these snowy peaks to have luxuries accommodations for him.

The 1st challenge begins at the dawn of 1st February, on Imbolc.

Sirius Black was ready with his trusty Abraxan horse, 'Pearl' and his supplies in his trusty satchel hung around his neck to survive.

His opponent Christopher Noir was also ready on the back of his Griffin, whom he called 'Stormtail', which raised a few eyebrows all around and even got a comment from Lord Black about the magnificence of the creature.

-Day 1-

They begin as the first ray of light hit the highest peak of the mountain. They were given a map and a ring that would signal withdrawal from the challenge. When sent some magic into it specifically, it acted as a portkey.

Sirius mounted Pearl in a practised manner, with Christopher getting on Stormtail and they both waited for the signal.

As they saw green sparks they took off. Pearl needed to run a few yards before taking off spreading her majestic white wingspan of about 6 meters.

Sirius directed her towards a mountain that had a forest in a valley below it where their first key would be found. They flew for a few hours, chasing the dawn falling over the mountains. As they neared Sirius studied the map and they were once more on land, but pearl was as able to travel on land as in air, so they didn't need to stop until they reached a cliff from where the beautiful valley was visible.

Sirius looked around for Noir, but he didn't find him, shrugging it off he signaled Pearl to fly down and take them to the point where he could see the symbol of a gate marked on the map.

He dismounted pearl and looked around. He was in a small clearing with the forest at some distance away, suitable to take a break for now. Pearl looked tired after flying for close to 8 hours non-stop. It was about noon if the position of the sun was to be taken into consideration and Sirius doubted that he would be flying in the night as it was beyond dangerous.

They needed some food and he had prepared for these situations; he summoned a few dry branches he could see near him and lit them with a nonverbal 'incnedio', taking out a small sealed earthen pot and putting it on it. He never even took out his wand. The wand was a crutch he used rarely when alone. He was more comfortable with magic in its natural form or using his staff as it helped in casting martial spells with an extra punch in them which his wand or wandless spells were not capable of yet.

He had taken inspiration from the pre-made meals in his last life and readied a few of them as to not waste time looking for food. For Pearl, he dug a crater in the ground and conjured some fresh water in it and took out one of the big baskets of fruits he had packed. Peral's diet consisted of fresh fruits and whatever he she fancied and caught, but for now, he wasn't going to send her away so fruits it was.

He ate his fill and erased traces of their presence and mounted his noble steed. They would travel by foot in the forest. As they entered the forest, the aura of the place changed into something dangerous like they had entered a predator's lair.

Sirius took out is his staff and kept it on ready, his intuition told him that he was invading something's territory. He used a point me to locate the key at intervals. As they moved inwards, he saw a myriad of plants used as potion ingredients and couldn't help himself and collected them on his way while keeping alert of his surroundings. Some of them were rare and collecting them on Imbolc increased their potency.

After about an hour into the forest, he heard a rustle and snapping of twigs. He had just got back on pearl after collecting Blue Fairy moss from a rock. He got ready with a knife in one hand he was previously using for cutting plants and his staff in another.

After a few minutes, he saw a lone wolf staring at him from the distance among the bushes which did nothing to hide its size.

He discreetly cast a few spells on himself and pearl. After a staring match of a minute or two which decidedly felt a lot longer, the wolf lunged at its prey.

Sirius channeled a stupefy from his staff at the wolf, but it barely slowed the wolf. He sent a few more spells to stop the animal in its course while steering pearl backwards. Finally, a powerful incnedio startled the wolf and some hesitation entered its movements.

They rapidly moved away from the wolf as wolfs never came alone. He didn't want to alert whatever dangerous beast that was residing in the forest about his presence as wolfs were common in the region and thus not his real opponent.

After pearl moved at lightning speed and they lost the wolf, they had arrived near a lake that had a serene look to it. Pearl moved to drink water and Sirius noted their location. His point spell was showing that they were nearer to the key than they were an hour and a half ago. He noted the time and saw it was 2 hours afternoon. only a few hours away from the night.

As they were taking a small break while pearl sated her thirst, Sirius was some distance away from Pearl, she was attacked by a wild bear. Sirius instantly sent a lightning spell at the bear in anger. The anger fueled the spell, and the bear was left charred and not in any condition to move ever. Sirius didn't regret killing the beast, Pearl was precious to him in more than one way.

He checked on pearl and found her mostly unharmed only a small gash on the side which he promptly healed.

They started their trek towards the direction his spell had shown him and arrived at a base of some kind of ancient stone structure. Sirius couldn't see the top of it as it was hidden by the growing planters, effectively hiding the structure from the human eye from above. There was no way to fly to the top of the structure as there was no gap for Pearl to fly.

He dismounted pearl and directed her to find him later by air. She had seen the stone structure and she would find it by air now as abraxan horses were intelligent and his pearl doubly so.

Meanwhile, he would go inside and find the key. He spied some foxes at some distance who were in process of fleeing seeing an unknown element in their territory.

He attached his knife to the base of his staff which would help him in cutting the roots and vines trying to creep upon him.

After walking a few meters, he saw that there was no entrance visible to the structure, so he started looking for hidden clues.

He used some spells used by curse breakers generally to find the clue of anything hidden there. After looking for a while and escaping a venomous tarantula, he finally found a carved rock with some runes on it. He moved near and cleaned the rock with the general use of scogify to read better what was written.

The runes translated loosely into demanding the sacrifice of life essence. He understood at once, the entrance needed blood to open. Now he had been taught to be wary of anything which demanded blood and didn't know what to do. He didn't want to spill his blood which would weaken him and wasn't sure if any other kind of blood would work.

He decided to try the blood of some animal first before taking drastic measures like slashing his palm.

He saw a rabbit nibbling on some grass at distance and sent a silent cutting curse at the creature. He put some blood on the rock before storing some blood in a vial in case it was needed for the exit.

This rabbit would make a delicious meal later, so he stored it in the empty earthen pot he had used for his previous meal. The pot won't let anything in or smell out.

Meanwhile, a patch of land had disappeared and a staircase going down had appeared directly opposite the stone.

He looked inside the opening and saw that the end wasn't visible. After checking for curses, he stepped inside and then after moving a few steps down, he vanished the blood from the stone to close the entrance. It worked like a charm, and he had to duck slightly to not lose his neck.

He conjured a ball of light in his palm and used the knife at one side of his staff to again cut or remove the things growing on the stairs.

It had counted the steps, and it was after about 30 steps that he reached the end. He calculated that he was around 5 meters below the ground. He was in a rundown corridor that had been left to the tender mercy of the elements. As light reached the roof, he heard the movement from above and was greeted by the red eyes of the hundreds of bats. Not something he wanted to fight so he extinguished the light and spelt his eyes with a night vision spell he had once found in an old book of practical pranks he had seen Phineas hiding from their mother. Well, one could learn anything from anywhere.

He moved forward into the corridor, his footsteps were silenced even before he entered the forest and he had dampened his smell when that wolf had found them. After moving some distance which he calculated was approximately equivalent to the stone structure and the entry stone, he found himself in a hall of some kind that was left to decay. There were some portraits of ancient people and some depilating furniture here and there but nothing of note.

He finally had an inkling of whose lair it was, and he didn't want to face that being, so he further donned an invisibility cloak Donato had suggested to him. He had felt this was a frivolous purchase previously but had listened to his guide anyway.

He checked the time and found it was nearing sundown, a very dangerous time in a dark forest. Another point me spell directed him towards a staircase going upwards and he took it. He reached another hall, and this was decidedly on the ground floor as Sirius noticed boarded up windows blocking any kind of light.

A movement caught his eye and he stared at the being he was trying to avoid as the being looked around sensing something disturbing its peace.

A/N - So, who can guess what our MC is facing?

Chapter Text

A movement caught his eye and he stared at the being he was trying to avoid as the being looked around sensing something disturbing its peace.

It was defiantly sundown by now as the Vampire called out, "who disturb me?" in a dialect of barely recognizable German Sirius hadn't heard before.

Sirius thought about what he should do now as he stood entirely still, not even daring to breathe. The Vampire was dangerous and must be hungry from what he did know about general vampires. Honestly, this vampire wasn't the healthiest looking, must be due to the long sleep he had woken from.

He raked his mind for something to save his hide in this delicate situation. This vampire won't be expecting something that would let him escape easily and cleverly. He remembered a fairy-tale his nanny used to tell him a few years ago.

A wizard was raiding an ancient Egyptian tomb and he had come face to face with a horde of vampires protecting the tomb. The wizard had used an advanced form of Lumos and used fire to subdue the vampires he was surrounded with.

He could follow the example and use some kind of lightning spell to weaken the creature and then stun him quickly. This would consume a lot of his magic to work. If he used his staff for light and wand for stunning, then he might just defeat his foe.

He silently flicked his wrist and his wand slipped into his hand. He already had his staff in the other hand and the cloak would have to come off quickly for this to work.

He prepared himself as the price of failure was death.

As the vampire was peeking down at stairs probably thinking his prey was there, Sirius quickly removed his cloak using his mouth, closed his eyes and shouted,

"Lumos Solem" as the vampire lunged at him.

When he heard a loud shout coming from too near, so he opened his eyes quickly and sent powerful stunners at the vampire. He didn't stop until he heard the thud of a body falling on the ground and still didn't snuff the light.

The vampire was about to grab him, it was at an arm's length. Using a variation of Lumos was a good idea, his spell was working.

He could now see the vampire lying on the ground with spots on his skin looking deadly red and black, which were increasing. The vampire's eyes looked blood red and were glaring at him maliciously.

"Accio Key" he chanted, not wanting to lose his eye on the vampire but the key must've been charmed to summon proof as it didn't fly to him.

"Immobulus, Incarcerous" He then chanted in succession aiming at the vampire buying himself time to search. He didn't want to become a meal for his hungry creature.

The Immobulus spell worked on both living and inanimate so it would work on the living dead and Incarcerous was just a precaution.

He looked around the room he was in properly for the first time and finally saw that he was in some kind of entrance hall with inanimate portraits, old broken furniture, a bookcase, a coffin, various kind of growth which he didn't even want to know about and some small trunks. He moved towards the trunks keeping one eye firmly on his foe.

"Alohmora" and the chest opened,

"Merlin's balls!" He swore it was a god honest pirate chest.

Damn, this vampire was really old!

He opened 2 more chests present and all of them had some kind of treasure, he tried 'summoning charm' again and the key didn't come out of the open chests.

He looked in the coffin and it was empty except for an unvarnished wand. He pocketed the wand and moved towards the bookcase. There were about 70 books in 7 rows altogether and they looked old and rare. He hadn't seen them before, and their titles were too good to ignore.

For now, he didn't touch any of them.

His last choice was to search for the vampire, who he was trying to avoid touching but that can't be helped, so he checked for pockets, but there were no pockets visible. Then he searched around the neck, and he finally found what he was looking for.

There were 2 keys tied around the vampire's neck in a cord, one was gold, and one was bronze.

He pulled the cord and put both keys in his satchel.

Now, what to do with the vampire Sirius pondered.

He didn't want to leave an enemy alive, or undead in this case as it would come to bite in his ass later. Last time he had his grandfather handle the fallout, but this time he couldn't take the risk.

He could see the vampire's eyelids fluttering, so he sent another stunner at him.

Tempus told him that it was after 7 in the evening and not a great time to be in a forest.

With a heavy heart, he braced himself.

He had decided what to do, he had to secure himself. Leaving an enemy alive would be a mistake.

He sent a Diffindo on the vampire's neck. There was no blood, but he still couldn't bear to look.

He sent an incnedio at the head and the smell of something rotten burning was overpowering.

Still, he didn't stop and sent another incnedio at the body and then used a bubblehead charm on his face.

The vampire's corpse was a charred skeleton now. He sent a vanishing spell on it, and it disappeared. The vanishing spell was a 3rd-year spell, and he was glad that he learnt it.

Still, He had to move fast, his emotions were causing havoc, so he slammed his occlumency shield for now

He summoned the chests, carefully put them in his satchel, and then started storing the books he had seen in the bookcase.

As he was removing a book to keep in his bag, the bookcase moved, and he got alert instantly. The bookcase slid to the side to reveal a corridor.

Sirius could feel a light breeze on his face coming from the corridor, clearly an exit.

He quickly put the remaining books in his bag and moved ahead. He snuffed his light spell and applied a night vision charm on his eyes again.

There could be more danger ahead or more vampires.

He donned his cloak again and walked slowly ignoring whatever was under his feet. After walking for a few minutes, he came across another staircase.

As he climbed the staircase. The airflow was increasing so he was going in the right direction. He found the exit sealed with a wooden door with a heavy bronze lock on it. His alohmora didn't work so he took out the bronze key he had taken previously.

A twist later he was on a roof, full of plants and could see the ruins of a stone structure. This wasn't a prison but the vampire's home. He felt sick that he had invaded a creature's home and killed it.

He realised what belonging to 'the Black family' meant for the first time.

He remembered the words his father had said to him before leaving for Germany.

'Blacks don't show mercy.'

As he breathed in the forest air, he felt something wet on his face. He had killed for the first time. He was a man from the progressive 21st Century. A man who had never advocated for violence in his previous life had killed a creature. Even if it was a dark creature, he had snuffed the light out of it.

He gave himself 3 minutes to pity himself and then moved forward.

He wasn't a modern man of the 21st century now! He was the Heir of Illustrious and Ancient 'Black family'. He had been attacked and he had defended himself. He had ended the enemy to save his back.

He put his wand and staff back in their places and focused on his link with Pearl.

He had artificially bonded with the abraxan before leaving for Germany when he was told that he would need a flying creature for the first challenge. The ritual was an old one, used generally when a soldier was going in the battle, to bond with their ride or similar situations like he was in.

He tugged at their faint bond and a few minutes later, a magnificent flying beast landed in front of him.

Pearl neighed looking at him and Sirius felt happy to see his familiar safe.

He climbed atop Pearl and took out his map to see a safe location to rest.

The safest location was the valley near the forest where he had taken a stop before.

They reached the valley in under an hour by air and Sirius set his camp after securing an ample perimeter to stay in with multitudes of spells and basic wards he knew.

He conjured water for pearl and remembered the rabbit he had killed. He couldn't digest any meat in his current mental condition, so he gave it to pearl. Pearl was an omnivorous creature, able to eat anything and survive in various environments. Even the bloody cold one they were in currently.

He took out another pre-packed meal for himself and ate silently sitting in his tent.

It was beyond cold, and he had to use warming charms every 10 minutes to not freeze. He was thankful that Donato had prepared him well for this excursion. He wore all the layers he had in his bag.

Sirius laid awake buried in blankets staring at the canopy of his tent.

He had lowered his occlumency shields and he felt numb now. He remembered the time he was kidnapped and the next day when he had sentenced his kidnappers to definite death. He had been a coward then and had left revenge upon his grandfather.

He hadn't given much thought to what must have happened to them and had continued with his life. He had nightmares that night after a long time, featuring screams and red eyes of the vampire, the faces of his kidnappers, cold hard expressions on his grandfather's face, and his siblings lying in the infirmary.

He turned and twisted the whole night and fell into a restless sleep.

-Day 2-

Sirius woke up startled. Pearl was neighing. He opened the tent and saw something peeking from beyond the ward he had set up. After looking carefully, he saw that it was just a bunch of Horklumps.

They were pink fleshy creatures resembling a mushroom, with no discernible purpose. He ignored them and checked the time; it was nearing dawn.

He started preparing for the second day of this suicide mission.

He packed his tent, fed Pearl, ate something, and removed some layers. They would be a hindrance if he needed to fight. His wandless warming charms were getting perfect with the multiple uses every few minutes.

He thought if he should remove the charms and wards but decided to do so once safely in the air, as he could see that magic was tempting some creatures to find the clearing. A few more creatures had woken up and joined Horklumps in looking for a way inside the barrier.

He studied the crude map they were provided with and thought about his challenger. He didn't know how and where Christopher was. They had chosen different first locations on the map as their first destination. Sirius had seen him flying towards the nearest location to the starting point, which was a lake in the valley, while he had chosen the farthest one on the map, one near the tallest mountain. flying for 8 hours yesterday.

The next location nearest to him was roughly 4 hours away if there were no distractions.

As they took off from the ground, Sirius dispelled all the wards and charms and then they chased the dawn together.

Chapter Text

Sirius atop on pearl reached his second destination as the sun started shining properly. The rest of pearl had gotten increased her speed. He surveyed his surroundings still airborne as there wasn't a place to land visible to him.

It was a good day with the sun shining, which was already rare in these regions.

As far as he could see, only ice was visible. They were over a glacier. He was applying warming charms over himself and his stead every other minute and was cursing his family and this ridiculous challenge he had to do.

He checked the map and there was a symbol for cave northwest to approximate location which had a golden key marked on it. he didn't even want to think about what he would face in those caves. One thing was clear, he cannot stay here overnight, so he would need to hurry.

He directed pearl toward caves slightly visible from his position. They flew for about 10 mins and pearl landed on the ground where Sirius had sent a very strong incnedio which melted the thin layer of ice present on the ground some distance away from a single cave opening visible.

Sirius performed a point me spell which directed him towards the entrance of the cave, so he was clearly in the right place.

He grabbed a piece of rock and transfigured it into a charcoal stick. Using it, he drew a few warming runes over pearl's body and on her face, dirtying her white coat, and powered them with his magic. they would work only for a few hours but hopefully, it was enough for now.

Sirius applied all the charms masking himself and sent pearl away. He couldn't take pearl in danger and asked her to remain safe and away from the cave until he called. She acted as if she understood but he wasn't super sure.

Bracing himself he walked into the cave. After walking a few hundred metres, it got too dark to see anything clearly, so he applied a night vision charm that was coming in quite handy.

He had known what he could face only a hundred or so metres. Giants! Freaking giants or a minuscule chance of it being a yeti, but larger than average. He had seen gigantic footsteps and bones of animals and even a skeleton lying at the edges of the cave.

He thought about northern European giants while slowly walking not to disturb whatever creature called this cave their home.

'A Giant was a very large humanoid magical being that could potentially grow to approximately twenty-five feet tall, but other than their height, they greatly resembled humans. They were not as intelligent as wizards but were capable of communication. Giants had their language for communication but sometimes spoke the local tongues. They seemed to be able to comprehend magic and are actually fond of its use (provided it isn't being used against them). They had their own language, culture, and societal structure. When breeding, they pride themselves on having large babies, and disappointment would arise if the child was smaller than expected. Unfortunately, most giants did not have the patience for long discussions and seem to prefer "simplifying" matters by killing their audience if the topic they brought proved too complicated. Because of this, it was imperative that one must have had gifts at the ready when trying to appease giants and take one's time, giving the giants the privilege of deciding what to do with what was offered.'

He knew limited information about giants from what he had read in a few texts as well as some of the old memories he remembered from HP fandom.

He didn't know if giants hibernated or not like bears, but that could be possible. They didn't have fur on their skins. On the other hand, Yeti was a creature of cold climate, but not much was known about them. He could face either in the cave.

Yeti feared fire, so they were easier to handle, but giants! A shiver went down his spine.

He was nearing the end of the cave which clearly opened inside the mountain. This wasn't just a cave; it was an entrance inside the mountain. He stood atop a crudely made ramp/stairs combination and looked down.

This was a village. And his assumption about Giants being here was correct. There were about 30 giants visible to his naked eye and more could be inside those 6 times the average primitive-looking huts.

There were about 50 huts visible, each looked big enough for a giant family of 3 to sleep in.

This was clearly the work of intelligent creatures, and he knew giants could possess brains. He would have to be extra careful. This was a mission of stealth and cunning. He couldn't lose focus for even a second. He renewed his charms, which included disillusionment, scent blocking, noise blocking, and added a potent notice-me-not as well.

He used a point me spell to locate the golden key he was looking for and not for the first time thought about who had come here to plant those keys previously. Someone professional that's for sure.

His wand pointed towards the largest hut present, which was roughly in the centre of this village. Light and snow were falling from the opening about 80-100 metres above the ground.

The giants were all wearing huge furs, which looked sewn together somehow. There were some children present roughhousing at some distance from the huts.

Sirius absorbed the culture of this giant's colony as he was sure that this was the only time, he would ever see such a creature in their natural habitat.

He was careful while moving among them, preferring to stay near the edges of huts so he won't be accidentally crushed underneath 20-25 feet tall creatures. (6-7 metres)

He smelled something cooking and saw fire in a pit clearly guarded by a few mean-looking giants.

He avoided them and took a longer route t the chief's hut. A few giants were talking among themselves but in their own language. Whatever they were saying went over his head, but it was fine. He just needed the key. After walking for a long time and carefully navigating the path, he finally reached his destination.

Sirius was careful while using magic as giants could sense it. He used the 'Point-me' spell only once after getting lost and that too extra carefully.

He could see 8 metres tall entrance of the chief's hut. It was equivalent to 3 floors cottage he had seen in the town near home. There was a huge rag acting as a gate hanging from the top but not touching the ground, leaving some space for a tiny human-like him to enter easily.

What he saw inside shocked him to his bones. He won't forget the sight till the day he died and would probably need to obliviate to overcome this.

The giants were mating. Yes, and it looked like they were wrestling, they were clearly in between some heavy action. He pondered if he should wait for them to finish before coming back but the risk of discovery was great.

He was careful to remain closer to walls, to not accidentally look at them. He didn't want these images in his mind. Even if he possessed an adult mind. Using a point, me spell, which would be missed while the occupants of the hut were busy, pointed at a wall.

He slowly moved towards the mud and straw wall; his wand pointed towards a discoloured patch that was clearly made later. A glance at the giants told him that they were busy in their own world, so he tried to find how to open the patch.

He saw a rock lying on the ground, which was pointy enough to dig in the wall. He couldn't risk using much magic here. A few careful strokes on the wall, trying to align them with the grunting of giants, and the mud loosened.

He was near his aim, just a little more. He could already see something shining inside, after a few more careful strikes, he quickly grabbed the muddy key now visible.

Sirius had finally found the second golden key and only needed to get out of here now.

He left the tiny patch, for a giant anyway, as it was. There were similar and bigger indentions all over the wall, so he didn't need to erase them.

It took him about an hour and a half to reach the entrance of the cave when he saw glowing Iprine near the wall. It was a plant used in some rare potions and was hard to come by.

There were about 4-5 bushes of it with glowing leaving. He carefully moved towards it and saw he was out of eyesight even invisible as he was, so he harvested all the bushes quickly. They were small plants so he could fit all of them in 2 containers he had emptied during his previous 2 meals.

As he was leaving, he saw a large stone rolling towards him, which made him move quickly thinking he was discovered. After running for a few minutes, he finally climbed atop the ramp.

As his breath stabilized, he realized that the huge stone was a ball for children, and they were kicking and throwing it around like a game. He felt relief by this, he was not caught but he couldn't risk staying here anymore.

He tried to ramp/stairs quickly, but they were clearly not made with a human in the mind, and that too a human child. It took him hours to climb up to the entrance and he regret not bringing his abraxan inside the cave. Going down was easier but climbing not so much. Only months and months of physical fitness abled him to bear it.

A quick check of time told him it was nearing 4 in the afternoon, and he was on a time crunch to escape this cold hell. He needed a safe and warmer place to set his camp and rest after a lot of walking and climbing he did today.

He wanted to lie in a hot water tub for hours after the vigorous workout he had gotten. But alas, that would need to wait for one more day.

He had 2 keys and probably he won't get 3rd one if Noir had gotten to it already, but he needed to check for sure.

He reached near the entrance of the cave and saw Pearl waiting for him. The runes were intact, and he was happy that pearl was alright.

As they moved forward, Sirius noticed that snow was falling. It wasn't a heavy snowfall but could become a problem, so he skipped lunch for now and directed pearl towards the third destination which was about 2-3 hours away.

As they flew southwards, the snow started falling heavily, and Pearl started whining, snowmaking her wings heavy. Sirius used a warming charm on her again and again, but it was just making everything wet. They needed to land. Sirius checked his surroundings for a place to safely land and potentially stop for the night.

Sirius tried the 'point-me' spell to look for any opening or cave and his wand pointed south-west, so he guided pearl towards that direction, it took some time for Sirius to see where his magic was directing him.

They were above a frozen waterfall, and his wand was pointing directly at the waterfall. Pearl landed on a slippery rock which wasn't a really suitable place to land but magic hasn't guided him wrong till now. After walking for a few minutes, Sirius saw an opening to the cave behind the frozen waterfall.

Pearl moved into the space seeing it as shelter and he used their bond to help pearl navigate the icy path. They finally had a shelter above their heads and Sirius let out a breath of relief.

They won't become icy popsicles that day. He left pearl at the entrance and went inside t scut the cave. It could be home to wild animals for all he knew.

after conjuring light and scouting the cave, he found that there were no animals here and they were safe to stay there.

He didn't wait another minute and warded the entrance like his previous camp.

Now he could relax and take a breather. Tempus told him it was 5 in the evening, he won't be reaching the third location even if it was just an hour or two away as nightfall was upon them, and pearl looked tired and irritated, after having to fly in unpleasant conditions.

He bought out his tent and knew that without fire they won't survive. Bluebell fire would work best in closed quarters without proper ventilation for smoke to escape, so he transfigured a few rocks lying there in large stone bowls and conjured bluebell flames in them. It won't burn stone, so they were relatively safe. Blue flames made pearl look ghostly.

The day ended they struck in that tiny cave, eating pre-packed food. Sirius was happy that he had packed double the requirement of food as it was coming in handy here. They were both hungry after a long day of exertion. He used multiple grooming charms to best clean himself as removing his clothes for proper charms was out of the question in these situations.

He slept uneasily in the sound of howling icy winds and pearl's soft neighing.

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A/N - Hello dear readers!

So what did you think of the second obstacle? too tame? too risky? whatever it was do comment!

Do add this to your Bookmarks and express yourself using kudos if you like this!

Soo, the Hogwarts arc is right around the corner and would love all the suggestions for Victorian-era Hogwarts! Do comment and tell me, from small suggestions like uniform or greater suggestions like conduct, rules, and sorting are welcome. I look forward to incorporating your ideas into the story!

xoxo!

Chapter Text

-Day 3-

It was the dawn of 3rd day and Sirius was bone-tired after a night spent in an icy mountain cave. He just wanted this to be over and thought if he really needed the 3rd key for winning. He already had 2 and he was sure that nobody would dare to question him if he returned only with 2 keys and Christopher must have gotten at least one key by now. There were only 3 after all.

He could feel that he wasn't in condition to embark upon another challenge in his bones.  He probably had a fever, and he could very well die if he went ahead in this condition. Possessing a responsible adult mind, he was thinking about this deeply.

He wasn't a child who would wither under the disappointed gaze of his family if he didn't finish the challenge, this was a matter of pride between adults, and he won't be questioned for forfeiting one obstacle if he worded it well enough. He was in lead anyways, so it wasn't like he forfeited without trying.

These obstacles, navigating a forest full of creatures, defeating a vampire, navigating Giants colony, surviving in a snowstorm, and many more little difficulties he had faced till now. He had overcome them. No 11 years old could do it. No matter how prodigious, not even merlin, who had begun his education in his 14th year as per tales of old.

He got easily tired while finishing his shortened morning routine and substituting cleaning potions with spells. It was hard controlling his movements and he wasn't in any condition to face whatever the third obstacle required. It would be a suicide, as nothing he had faced until now was made for an 11-year-old child.

But he had come so far along, one more won't kill him surely. And it would be the easiest one probably, seeing it was nearest to the place they had to begin from. He did have a few common potions on him which would help with fever.

He couldn't decide what to do so he looked at pearl who didn't look her best. She was shivering even after spending the night near flames, probably because they were near a frozen waterfall. That decided for him, potions would help him, and pearl in recovery, and they would go straight to the finishing point.

He coaxed pearl to drink a few potions which were safe for her, and they were ready to end this challenge.

As they were flying over the mountains, nearing the starting point, Sirius saw something peculiar ahead of him. There was smoke coming from somewhere, and it was red smoke. Generally used to ask for help in the magical world.

He questioned his sanity as he directed pearl towards the origin of the smoke. He wanted to finish this quickly, but he won't leave anyone in distress if he could help it.

Near the smoke, he saw Christopher, looking worse to wear but still alive. He was huddled near the fire which he was prodding using a long stick and was crying. His relative looked up when he heard the sound of wings and relief was visible on his face as clear as a maiden's mirror.

"Hello Noir" Sirius greeted his opponent who didn't look in the shape to be called opponent right now.

"Sii-ri-ius" Noir moaned shivering.

Sirius cast a warming charm on him, and he relaxed a bit.

"Why are you here like this Noir? Where is your Griffin?" Sirius asked while taking stock of noir's injuries.

"Stormtail died," Noir said crying which made Sirius feel bad for him.

"Ssshh it's okay." He said consoling Christopher. As Sirius touched him, he felt a wince and felt that Noir was burning up.

He took out one of his remaining healing potions and made Noir drink it.

"Have you eaten?" he softly asked.

"Nothing since yesterday," Noir said in a low voice, his pink face getting a dusting of red on his cheeks.

Sirius took out a meal and heated it for his relative. This was a genuine child in trouble. They were beyond some silly competition.

He let noir eat in silence as he took out dittany leaves, which he had plucked 2 days ago in the forest.

He made noir eat them as it was the best, he could do for visible injuries right now.

After seeing that Noir was drifting off, likely due to the effect of potion and dittany working on him, he applied a feather-light charm on him and guided him on the back of pearl. He looked around to see if noir had something on him and saw a torn bag lying there. He picked it up and saw it had some supplies for the challenge. He put it in his satchel till he could return it to the Noir heir later.

He extinguished the fire and climbed atop of Pearl, who was easily able to take the weight of two prepubescent children and they took off.

Sirius kept a tight hold on the child, as they reached the clearing which indicated the finish line in just an hour.

There he saw a few guards roaming around who looked up as they heard a powerful flap of wings.

One of them rushed inside, probably to call their family while 2 moved toward them.

"Give him to us, we would take him inside to the healer milord." One of the guards addressed him and he carefully helped them pick noir and then dismounted himself.

"Baxter, please take pearl to the caretaker Oswald after this, she needs to be looked after." Sirius addressed a guard he was familiar with just as he saw his family as well as Noirs and Merulas coming out of a cabin, which had a Floo connection.

"Son, are you hurt?" Sirius heard his mother asking him, checking him for injuries and anything out of the place.

"No mother, I am fine. I Might Have a little fever but it's not bothering me much." He said putting on a brave face.

"It is only luck that you survived this wretched thing nephew. I ought to have words with Lord Merula." His aunt haughtily sniffed after Sirius's mother finished making a fuss.

"I did well I think Aunty! I got 2 keys in 2 days. I might have tried for a third if I haven't come across Christopher." Sirius said, taking 2 keys out of his pocket and showing those to his family.

His family looked fairly surprised and proud in equal amounts as they saw that he had completed about 2/3rd challenge.

They moved inside the cabin, where tea was ready for them. His mother called on another stand healer who gave him a standard fever-reducing potion with plenty of rest till he felt better. They took tea and freshly made hot tea warmed Sirius as only a British tea could.

After a few minutes, they were called outside, where the Rest of the people were waiting

His father and grandfather conversed with Lord Merula and Lord Noir, later of whom was looking furious.

After a few minutes of what looked like a heated argument from afar, they approached Sirius who was standing with his mother and aunt.

"Lord Sirius Black, did you finish the challenge to the best of your abilities?" Lord Merula asked formally.

"I did complete it to the best of my abilities. I was able to conquer 2 obstacles and have 2 keys as proof." Sirius replied, taking out 2 keys from the cord around his neck.

"Then I believe congratulations are in order. You're in majority, winning the challenge." Lord Merula said with a smile directed at him.

"Thank you, Milord. How is Christopher faring? Did he get 3rd key?" Sirius asked, curious about if he could have found the third key as well.

"He would be alright according to the healer. Your quick thinking reduced his recovery time." Lord Noir injected somewhat bitterly.

Lord Merula glared at him for butting in between them,

"Your opponent was able to obtain one key which we found on his person. We would know what happened when he wakes up, and the rest would be discussed in his presence at my residence here tomorrow." Lord Merula said with finality.

Sirius let out a sigh of disappointment. It seemed that He couldn't have found the first key in any case. Noir beat him to it, as he had chosen harder and far away from obstacles unknowingly, he obtained 2 keys.

Unknown to the adults, he had chosen not to go for 3rd key anyways. But to them, he looked like a child who had abandoned the quest of 3rd key to helping his opponent. A win-win in any case if the expressions on Lord Noir's face were anything to go by.

"Thank you for the opportunity milord, I bid you farewell. The Healer had ordered bed rest." Sirius bowed to Lord Merula, who nodded at him and bid him farewell in return.

He looked at his assembled family and found them looking at him with various degrees of pride and happiness. He felt joy seeing him happy. His family loved him. Blacks did have hearts if only visible in intimate settings.

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A/N- Hello guys,

Sorry for this serious delay, I rejoined the office after long months of working from home. I'd try to post chapters regularly, but it won't be as frequent as before. Thank you for waiting and I'm seeing forward to reading your thoughts on the abrupt end of the 1st challenge.

I previously planned something grand for the last challenge but then this happened and I found this a more fitting and realistic continuation.

Thank you!

xoxo

Chapter Text

It was a month after 1st challenge or the only challenge which actually happened.

Sirius was looking forward to knowing the next challenge, but Lord Noir had forfeited as his son had been traumatized by seeing his Griffin die, after fighting with a dragon. Yes, the first key was guarded literally by a wild dragon.

Sirius Thanked Mother Gaia for days upon learning that. Dragons were notorious for eating humans, sometimes whole villages; Christopher had got away with only minor injuries and some mental damage.

His Griffin fought with the dragon while Noir had got the key from the dragon's nest using a broom. Honestly, second flying equipment was a good idea that Sirius hadn't considered, and he kicked himself for it, but what's done was done.

Christopher had found the key, but by then the dragon had returned after feasting on his Griffin and Christopher had barely escaped with his life. His broom and bag were half burnt by dragon fire, he had manoeuvred to the ground far away somehow. Then he had fallen when his damaged broom and walked some way ahead into the forest. He had slept in a seemingly empty cave for a few hours until he was chased away from it by a pack of angry, wild kneazles. He had to leave his blankets there while escaping the creatures.

Noir could have taken a few Kneazles as he had his wand, but he was hungry, hurt, and tired at that point, so he just left. He then spent another night atop a tree and then lit the fire the next day after he had exhausted his food. Sirius had found him like that then.

Sirius applauded Christopher for using his brain. Wizards didn't use it often. He was a worthy opponent, as escaping a wild dragon with only minor injuries was a miracle on its own.

He learned that 2nd and 3rd challenges were nothing to sneeze upon, including the Black Island and duels in unknown conditions.

Alas, Christopher's father had forfeited the challenge on his behalf. He had finally realized that losing his heir wasn't worth it for just some money, businesses, and titles. He already possessed quite of bit of that on his own and without an heir, he would have no one to pass it on to. He didn't have another heir to fall into like Lord Black.

Grandfather had happily accepted the forfeit, and they signed a lot of documents for the finalization of everything. Sirius had to sign a few himself, which he did after reading them thoroughly.

One of them had Sirius irked and sulking for weeks. Apparently, Sirius would have to marry Lord Merula's daughter after she reached her majority and then birthed a magical heir for Lord Merula's estate, which would be ultimately under the British Black family after that but would be independent in the eyes of the ton.

His grandfather had grudgingly agreed, knowing the troubled time the Sicilian states were facing. The political landscape could be very different by the time Heiress Merula reached her majority. There wasn't a need to paint a target on British Blacks until the agreed-upon union actually happened. And Lord merula was still alive to manage his estate till one of his grandchildren reached their majority.

Sirius wasn't happy to know that his future was decided for him without so much of his input. His family had just thought that he was throwing a childish fir not knowing what marriage would mean. His father had the audacity of saying that he would understand their decision when he grew up.

Apparently, escaping unscathed from the mouth of literal death wasn't enough for his family to believe in his maturity regarding serious matters like marriage and procreation. He had still signed as it was inevitable after this whole farce of challenge. He would just have to measure the situation when the time arrived as it was at least a decade away. The contract did have a few escape clauses for him and a few conditions by which Future lady Merula could reject the union. Also, he wasn't mentioned by the name, just an Lord Black born within 10 years of birth of Lady Merula, which meant if he gave up his Dukedom, Phineas could very well marry the chit and he would be free. He had pursued everything carefully before signing anything, but it was still a matter of principle.

He was a modern man, with modern sensibilities, struck in a very ancient and very Victorian wizarding world. He would have to follow the societal norms until he could gain independence. He wanted nothing more than to make his own path and find love if it was in his cards. If he did fall in love somehow with someone, he won't think twice before marrying for love. He had already missed on that in his previous life, he wasn't going to take chances in his second chance. Responsibilities or not.

A second deal had also taken place only a week ago, which had him frothing in his mouth but unable to express himself with words. He had lost control and destroyed a portion of his grandfather's study upon hearing about it. His grandfather had bound one of his darling sisters with Christopher Noir. Didn't matter which one, the only requirement was her being magical upon reaching the majority.

Sirius hadn't spoken to his grandfather since then. Their relationship was damaged beyond repair. He didn't agree with this, he knew it wasn't his place to make decisions like this, but he could very well convey his dislike. Little Elladora hadn't even known her life was signed away at that very moment. And of course, it would be Ella. She was a witch and a very strong one if her accidental riots were any signal. She wasn't told naturally, but she would know when she grew older and understood the concept of contracts and marriage.

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With the challenge over, Sirius had begun preparation for his upcoming school year. He didn't know what he could possibly learn for first few years there that he didn't already know due to the extensive tutoring he had received in preparation for the challenge. But it did give him room to do his own thing while at Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, some of the lessons had come to stop. He was glad to have some respite after months of vigorous training.

His father had suspended all 6 subjects he was learning in the morning, declaring he had learnt enough, and the rest Hogwarts would teach him. He had requested to continue Martial magic training, which his father had agreed upon as it was an elective at Hogwarts only offered after OWLs. He would lose his progress in all those years of waiting if he didn't learn now and improve in his personal time.

Now that he had some time in his schedule, he was using it appropriately on researching the greasy blackness upon his core and improving on the subjects which weren't taught at Hogwarts.

He found about it in one of his ancestors' journals around the time His littlest sister was granted a name.

"Lady Isla Black, born on the 24th Day of December of 1856." She was a frail little thing, who had cried and cried after the ritual, which pained a helpless Sirius, who was allowed to partake in the ritual for the first time.

He had spent weeks learning the chant by his heart and how to feed his magic to his infant sibling. It was the first time in a century and a half that, 5 blacks had performed the ritual in traditional form. Sirius with his father, grandfather and aunts partook in it. There were enough able Black-born to perform in a traditional star formation as opposed to a triangle formation, which was a weaker version of the ritual.

He had found the history and creation of the triangle formation in ritual interesting and had accidentally happened upon the information he was looking for magical cores while browsing a journal belonging to his ancestor Regulus Black, born in 1077.

Regulus Black was one of 4 surviving Black-born in the late 11th century. He was a master of Soul magic, having learnt it under High mage Salazar Slytherin in his advanced years at Howarth. He changed the Star ritual into the triangle ritual to use on his children when he didn't have enough family left to support a traditional form.

He found his core when he delved too deep to gain an understanding of the purest form of magic and discovered a greasy grey layer upon his core, and then discovered it upon his child's care. He researched the taint for decades after the discovery.

He had theorized that this was a taint upon the soul of every magical bearing, being, a price of using magic, weaken. He wanted the taint to be gone, which was present in varying layers in most magical beings. People with longer magical lineages had more taint. Squibs were tainted to such a degree that it blocked their connection to magic, only allowing faint rays to escape which were not enough to channel magic even via a wand.

He had presented his finding in front of the magical council, who had ignored his claims as the Blacks had recently lost control over the kingdom, they were ruling to invading the army of William of Normandy.

Regulus had accepted the decision of the council with a stoic face. Only 2 lords had approached him later, who had apparently understood the long-term implications of this tragedy waiting to happen. They were Lord Longbotham and Lord Peverell.

They started looking for a way to get rid of the taint. They succeeded after several years, by which time their own core was several shades darker and beyond much help. The 3 lords instructed their grandchildren in following the 7-fold ritual they had invented.

3 Peverell brothers were genius in their own fields and were widely recognized as Masters and feared for their skills.

The Longbotham twins were the feared war mages for a century, and they dedicated their lives to protecting Howarth from the invaders. They were regarded as the most beloved protectors to happen in academia.

Aries Black, the grandson of Regulus Black, went on to become a high mage who was feared across the continents for his skills with staff and wand. He was a war mage with skills and magic to back him up in any situation. He single-handedly re-established the Black family in the ranks of respected Lords once again and his notoriety was still alive in far corners of the world.

Aries had thought to perform the ritual upon his children but then he discovered that they hadn't inherited a significant amount of taint he was born with. He had seen this as a blessing from magic and the ritual went in the family grimoire for when his descendants needed it.

Sirius was grim after reading this and knowing the history behind the taint he was apparently born with. The later generations must have forgotten about this taint as he was sure that they had a considerable amount of it.

He didn't know enough soul magic to check upon his family but was sure that he would find them in similar positions. He went on to find the ritual his ancestor had discovered. After several days of frustration, he conceded defeat. He wasn't able to understand the complications presented and needed actual instruction in the field to actually understand and perform the ritual. He knew that he won't find a tutor for this subject as soul magic was banned, ICW declaring it too dangerous to be legal about a century ago.

His father didn't care for the government, but Sirius didn't want to take risk of discovery by telling him. He wanted to have knowledge before telling his fears to his family. He shelved it for another few years in favour of learning soul magic before actually delving into the soul rituals.

In the meantime, He found a few tomes penned by his Ancestor Regulus black with instructions for beginners. The true treasure was in an unnamed tome with only the author's name on the spine, which Sirius had only found because he was looking for it. Regulus black penned it in his advanced years.

It was nearing the end of July when he was finally at the novice stage of soul magic, barely enough to understand the rituals but still somewhat learnt. He had decided upon performing the rituals upon gaining ample understanding about them, which he estimated would take him another year or two.

He took his time before accidentally damaging his soul. He was going to become a self-learnt participant. After all, books could never substitute for actual teachers of the field.

Hello guys!

I'm sorry to disappoint those that wanted the continuation of the challenge., but the Hogwarts arc is just ahead and I am so excited to dive into it! All the suggestions are welcome!!!

Xoxo!

Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.

Chapter Text

It was the 1st of August, 1857—exactly one month before Sirius would depart for Hogwarts—when he received another letter, this time containing information about the supplies he would need for school.

Earlier, he had already sent back his acceptance letter along with the required draft payment, and in return, he had received an acknowledgment accompanied by a detailed handbook. That handbook outlined his upcoming coursework, elective options, Hogwarts’ meal plans, and the rules and regulations every student was expected to know before setting foot on school grounds.

At first, Sirius had thought the information overload was excessive. But after comparing it to the common educational practices of this era, he began to appreciate the effort. It was, in truth, a well-thought-out system—giving students time to prepare and parents a clearer understanding of what their children would be learning over the next several years.

Determined to make the most of his time, Sirius opted to enroll in all nine core subjects, as well as five distinctive electives, wanting to keep himself fully engaged and broaden his understanding of the magical and non-magical world alike. His core subjects included:

Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense and Offense, Herbology, Astronomy, History of World and Magic, Broom Flying and Arithmancy
For electives, he selected - Ancient Runes, Language Studies, Art and Music Composition, Literature and Poetry and Management Studies

These subjects would be available to him for the first three years. At the end of that period, students were allowed to drop or add subjects based on their interests and future goals. The minimum requirement to sit for the OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) was five subjects—three magical and two non-magical.

Interestingly, Arithmancy, History, and Astronomy were categorized as non-magical disciplines, despite their heavy inclusion in magical education. Flying, on the other hand, did not have a formal examination—instead, students would receive a certificate of proficiency upon completing three years of instruction.

Rest of his supplies were as follows.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Uniform Requirements for First-Year Students:

Three sets of plain black work robes

One plain black pointed hat (for day wear)

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

Two black winter cloaks with silver fastenings

Sets of underclothes: white shirt or blouse, black trousers, long white socks, and a tie

Black boots or shoes

Waistcoats with belts (optional)

One set of formal dress robes

Please note: All clothing must be clearly labeled with the student’s full name stitched on the inside.

Additional Equipment:

1 wand

1 cauldron (small, pewter)

1 set of glass or crystal vials

1 telescope

1 set of measuring scales

1 set of writing materials

1 potions kit

1 set of formal letter parchment

1 broom

Students may also bring an animal companion that is under XX Classification given that they themselves will be responsible for Safety, food and overall well being of said companion. School shall not be held responsible in case of any incidents such as theft, injury, misplacement, accident, or death of said creature. 

Most common companions are Cats/Kneazels, Crups/Dogs, Toads and Owls/Messenger birds.

Without Broom, Students won’t be eligible for Flying lessons. 

Family bonded House elves are additionally allowed for students with noble lineage. 
Below this, there was a complete list of textbooks and study materials required for the subjects he had chosen, which was quite extensive. 

A golden ticket was included in the envelope, bearing the address of the newly built King's Cross Station, along with detailed directions for accessing the platform.

After reading the letter aloud — much to the envy of his younger siblings — Sirius could hardly contain his excitement.

He looked at his Father, Cygnus Black after reading out the list out loud.

“Ah, to be young and excitable again.” His Father quipped. “Sirius, you can visit the alley with Augustus the house boy. It is time that you learn to navigate the world on your own.” 

“Yes Father” Sirius nodded and bowed slightly in acceptance. He could see Phineas pouting but didn’t say anything about that.

Sirius had a good relationship with Augustus, whom he called Augie as well, so he naturally had no issues with going to the alley with him for his school supplies. 

He summoned Augustus after the breakfast with his family and instructed him to get a trunk big enough to house everything from Mr. Edward and they would take Floo to the alley to save time. 

They planned to go to Alley the next day. Sirius also invited his friends Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett but they were going with their guardians next week hence denied due to no fault of their own. 

It was a crisp morning on the 2nd of August, 1857, when Sirius Rigel Black stepped through the Floo at the Leaky Cauldron for the first time in his young life. Last time his father had taken his carriage when they had visited for his wand.

The emerald fire flared briefly before he emerged from the grate with practiced ease, brushing a faint trace of soot from the lapel of his deep green summer robe. Augustus followed moments later, coughing lightly behind his hand, his usually neat hair slightly mussed from the journey.

Sirius paused, adjusting the weight of his signet ring which was turning into a nervous habit and glancing around the dimly lit tavern. The Leaky Cauldron was bustling, filled with a curious mix of early morning travelers and tired-looking residents sipping spiced tea. The air smelled faintly of pipe smoke, roasted nuts, and the sharp tang of brewing potions.

He inclined his head politely to the barkeep while putting a couple of knuts in the bowl adjacent to the fireplace, who gave them a distracted nod seeing the coin while polishing a glass with a rag that did little more than smear the grime. Sirius had read much about the inn in books and journals—its history, its political neutrality, and its importance as a gateway between worlds. But even so, he couldn’t help but regard it as slightly grimy, in that peculiarly charming magical way.

“I’ll go directly to Gringotts, while you can get a few things in the list” Sirius murmured, his voice low but confident. 

“As you wish, Master Sirius,” Augustus replied with a small bow.

Sirius gave him a sharp look but didn’t protest the formality. Outside the estate, Augustus often reverted to form. It was a habit deeply ingrained, and one Sirius respected—even if he personally found it too stiff for his liking.

They crossed through the brick arch behind the Leaky Cauldron, Sirius tapping the correct pattern with the tip of his white aspen wand. He felt a magical thrill in his chest as the bricks shuddered and shifted to reveal the concealed world of Diagon Alley beyond.

The alley unfolded like a living tapestry before them—narrow and winding, flanked by tall, wonky buildings whose upper floors leaned over the cobbled street. Signs swung from iron brackets overhead, some creaking gently, others flashing with subtle magical light. The scent of parchment, wax, sweets, and polished wood drifted on the breeze, accompanied by the occasional hoot of an owl or the chime of a floating bell.

Sirius took a moment to simply breathe it in.

“I’d almost forgotten how alive it feels,” he said softly, half to himself. “Magic here… it doesn’t hide.”

“No, sir. It dances,” Augustus replied, smiling as he adjusted the strap of the leather satchel slung over his shoulder. 

“Here,” Sirius said, handing Augustus a folded list and a smaller pouch of coin. “Pick up the books from Flourish & Blotts, the crystal vials from Vesperglass Emporium, and get the potions kit from Nott’s Apothecary and get stationery as well. If they try to pass off an old potions kit, refuse and go to another shop. I'll meet you at the Ruben's cafe after i am done, wait for me there.”

Augustus accepted the list with a short nod and they parted with their own objectives.

Sirius passed a cluster of children pressing their noses to the window of a shop that sold enchanted marbles and dancing ink pots, before arriving at the snow-white marble steps of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Two goblins flanked the massive doors—one eyed Sirius's ring and nodded faintly in recognition.

Sirius returned the gesture, neither bowing too low nor standing too proud. His grandfather had made it clear: Goblins were not to be trifled with or disrespected.

Inside the great hall, the cool air smelled of ink and old coins. Goblins sat behind high counters, scribbling in ledgers or inspecting jewels through thick monocles. Sirius approached the nearest desk with quiet confidence.

“I am Sirius Rigel Black,” he said clearly, presenting the ring on his right hand. “Heir to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. I would like to meet black family account manager and make a withdrawal from my personal account.”

The goblin, without looking up, gestured with a clawed hand. “Key.”

Sirius produced the small silver key from his inner robe pocket. The goblin examined it, then finally met his eyes.

“Follow Hornkip.”

A second goblin, smaller and swifter, emerged from a side passage and beckoned. Sirius followed him through winding stone corridors and into the interior of the bank.

He was led to a side chamber this time, down a short hall marked “Private Holdings.” The door was thick oak bound in iron, and the nameplate on the front read: Snapteeth – Account Manager, Private Vaults & Old-Blood Affairs.

Inside, a goblin was already seated behind a low desk carved from dark stone. He had sharp features, ink-stained fingers, and a quill tucked behind one pointed ear. He glanced up when Sirius entered and gestured for him to sit, wasting no time on greetings.

“Name and account,” he said without looking up from the ledger.

“Sirius Rigel Black. Black Heir vault, Number 594. Established by Lord Aquarius Black in 1845.”

“Ah,” Snapteeth murmured, flipping through a few parchment pages. “Yes. The heir account. What brings you today?”

“I’m depositing four thousand five hundred galleons,” Sirius said, placing a bulging satchel on the desk. “You’ll find it all in order.”

Snapteeth opened the pouch with a tap of his claw, checked the top layer of coins, and gave a satisfied grunt.

“I assume this is a personal fund?”

“Exactly. It’s my personal savings.”

“Good. Most heirs your age still treat money like water.” Snapteeth jotted a note in the ledger. “Annual bank statements will be delivered by owl post on 22nd October every year, the day after the yearly deposit from the main vault is made till you are 21 in age.”

“That works.”

Sirius leaned back slightly as the goblin continued writing. After a moment, he added, “I’d like to authorize access for my house-elf, Kint. He manages errands and purchases on my behalf.”

Snapteeth paused mid-sentence. “An elf. Uncommon.”

“He’s bound to my household. Loyal. Efficient. I trust him.”

“Fine. We’ll bind his magical signature to the vault. He’ll be able to deposit and withdraw, up to what limit?”

“No more than three hundred galleons per month.”

Snapteeth nodded. “Understood. You’ll get alerts by the owl if he exceeds that.”

“And I’d like a draft book,” Sirius added.

The goblin arched a brow. “Already? Most don’t ask until they’ve left school.”

“I plan to use it only during emergencies.”

Snapteeth rummaged in a drawer and produced a long, leather-bound booklet. The parchment inside was smooth and thick, each sheet faintly marked with a Gringotts watermark.

“Twenty pages. One-time fee of two Galleons. Each leaf can be written, signed, and torn out like a cheque. Valid anywhere that have a vault with us, be it a business or an individual, which is nearly everyone on this island.”

Sirius handed over two Galleons and took the draft book, running a finger over the embossed cover. It was more elegant than he expected.

“Don’t lose it,” Snapteeth added dryly. “If someone else tries to use it, the page disintegrates. The rest vanish. And you’ll need to pay for a replacement.”

“Understood.” Sirius tucked it carefully into the inside pocket of his robe.

“One more thing,” he said. “Can I get some smaller change? A hundred sickles and a hundred knuts for Daily spending.”

Snapteeth rang a tiny bell, and another goblin appeared, took the order and appeared again a few minutes later carrying two coin pouches. Sirius opened each, glanced inside, and nodded his approval.

“That’s all, I think,” he said, rising from the chair. “Unless you’ve any warnings about economic collapse I should know about.”

Snapteeth’s lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “Not yet.”

Sirius grinned and slipped the pouches into his trunk.

"Pleasure to have done business with you today Manager Snapteeth" 

Snapteeth gave him a long, unreadable look.

“We’ll be in touch. Heir Black.”

Sirius gave a short nod and turned to go, the draft book light in his pocket and the weight of his new independence settling quietly over his shoulders. 

Back in the sunlight, he turned toward the row of shops.

A bell chimed as Sirius entered the fine luggage shop called Boot Luggage, its interior polished to a gleam. Dark wood shelves showcased trunks of various enchantments, some steaming faintly, others snapping open and shut in midair for display.

He selected a bespoke piece—charcoal black with a silver crest worked discreetly into the latch. It contained three compartments: one for standard school items, another with cooling and preservation charms for potions and perishables, and a third hidden, warded, and keyed only to his magical signature.

The artisan provided three skeleton-style keys, each fitting a different enchantment layer. Sirius stowed them in the inner pocket of his traveling robe with a quiet satisfaction.

His next stop was Twilfitt and Tatting’s Robes. The fittings were precise and elegant. Sirius requested subtle customization—a darker green lining to contrast his house colors, a slightly tapered cut on the formal dress robes, and discreet embroidery on the inside collars with his full name.

“Nothing too common or too gaudy,” he reminded the seamstress. “I’m not peacocking.”

“Of course, Lord Black,” she replied with a thin smile. “We are not Madame Malkin’s.”

Next he wanted to have a personal owl, Sirius arrived at eyelope’s and wandered between cages. Owls of all kinds blinked down at him—snowy, barn, screech, and even a regal tawny with a crooked feather.

His eyes landed on a white-colored owl with snowy plumage and intelligent amber eyes that followed his every move.

“She’s sharp,” said the shopkeeper, noticing. “Quiet flyer. Good instincts.”

“She’ll do,” Sirius murmured. “I’ll name her Opal.”

He paid in galleons, requesting her be delivered to the estate with her perch and food supply.

As he left the Eyelops, a tucked away shop at the corner caught his eyes, its exterior was peeling and there was no board, just random knick knacks on the dirty display window, he curiously made way into it.

An old woman was reading a book sitting behind the counter, As he entered a faint bell rang somewhere in the shop. 

“Welcome to Odds & Ends Emporium, please feel free to browse and ask about anything that catches your fancy” She said with a welcoming smile.

Sirius walked through the shelves where the air smelled faintly of mothballs, old wood, and something vaguely reminiscent of forgotten spells. The shop was cluttered but oddly comforting—like a long-lost attic that hadn’t quite decided if it was magical or mundane.

There were teetering stacks of faded tarot cards, half-melted candles in antique holders, broken wand cases with frayed velvet lining, and mismatched potion bottles labeled in nearly illegible cursive. A stuffed billywig hovered gently in a cracked glass dome, its wings twitching once every few seconds as though refusing to admit it had long since stopped living.

He passed a brass mirror that sneezed when he brushed against it and a cauldron that hiccupped tiny bubbles of lavender smoke.

One shelf in particular drew him in—it was packed with old school things. A cracked Hogwarts crest on a dusty journal. A few tarnished Prefect badges. A weather-beaten Astronomy chart with hand-drawn constellations dancing ever so slightly across the parchment.

“Everything here has a story,” the old woman called softly from behind the counter. “Some of them are true.”

Sirius gave a small smile and kept browsing, his fingers brushing over a wand holster made of aged dragonhide. It flexed slightly under his touch, as if trying to remember its purpose.

“Do you buy items too?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

She looked up, eyes sharp despite the smile. “I do. Trade and barter too, if you’re clever about it.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll come back with something worth your shelf space.”

“No rush, dear. Things meant to find a home here usually do.” She tapped the side of her book with a knobby finger. “They wait.”

Sirius lingered a moment longer and eventually picked out a faded, leather-bound sketchbook with someone’s initials burned into the cover—T.H.P.—the pages inside filled with magical creature sketches, half-spells, notes, and the sort of chaotic imagination that only came from a bored student or a brilliant one.

“How much for this?” he asked.

The woman tilted her head, squinting. “Two sickles. And promise you’ll add a few pages of your own before you leave school.”

Sirius handed over the coins with a faint grin. “Deal.”

He continued browsing, drawn deeper into the narrow, winding aisles. The shop felt bigger on the inside—probably charmed that way. Dust motes floated lazily in shafts of light cutting through high windows, and the shelves seemed to whisper quietly with age and mischief.

Near a crooked display table covered in silk scraps and tangled quills, something caught his eye: a pair of slim, leather-bound journals nestled in a cracked velvet box. They were nearly identical—dark blue covers embossed with a faint silvery pattern of moons and stars.

He opened one and saw neat, pale lines across the parchment. The inside cover read:

"Twinmind Journals – Whatever is written in one appears in the other. Wipes clean with every full moon. Do not use for blackmail or dueling plans. Especially not both."

Sirius gave a soft laugh and looked toward the counter. “These still work?”

The old woman smiled knowingly. “Perfectly. Came from parents of a pair of twin sisters who used to pass notes during lessons. One of them got caught because she doodled on the cover.”

“I’ll take them.”

He placed the box gently under one arm and moved on. Tucked in a dusty wicker bin beside the register, he found a plain-looking cloth satchel with soft leather straps. It didn’t look like much—just a little bigger than a standard school bag—but when he lifted it, it was lighter than expected.

A scrap of parchment was pinned to it: "Capacity: Approximately twice its size. Careful not to fill it too full or you’ll never find anything again."

“Does this one have a name?” he asked.

“Not really,” she said. “It’s just... a bag. But useful, if you pack clever.”

He added it to his growing collection.

Next, a small stand of hats drew his attention. Most were shapeless, worn from time, with curious feathers or faded ribbons tucked in their brims. One, a soft grey wool cap with a slightly droopy tip, had a yellowed tag that read:

"Notice-Me-Not Hat – For when you’d rather not be the subject of attention. Won’t hide you from teachers during night, however."

He tried it on. It felt cozy, unremarkable. He liked that.

A shelf nearby held an assortment of cracked monocles and forgotten reading specs, but one pair of wire-rimmed glasses rested in a polished wooden case with a handwritten note:

"Chameleon Lenses – Subtly alters hair and eye color to the most common in a crowd (typically brown). Makes the wearer’s appearance vaguely forgettable. Ideal for quiet getaways, library visits, or introverts at large social gatherings."

He slipped them on and looked into a small mirror nearby. His reflection shifted—his bright grey eyes dulled to muddy brown, his striking hair now an unremarkable shade. It wasn’t a disguise exactly, but it was enough to blend in.

“I’ll take these too.”

As he moved to pay, he noticed a small stack of tarot decks wrapped in ribbons. One was brightly colored, the cards smaller than usual, with illustrations of dragons in bonnets, sleepy-eyed owls, and dancing teacups.

“Children’s tarot?” Sirius asked with a smile.

“Beginner’s set,” the woman said. “They’re safe, charming, and mildly accurate if you shuffle with good intentions. Wonderful for learning the basics.”

He picked up the box, feeling the comforting weight of curiosity and possibility.

By the time he reached the counter, his arms were full of magical oddities, all of which looked like nothing to anyone not paying attention. And yet, he felt as though he'd stumbled across an unexpected treasure trove—one made not of power, but of practicality, wonder, and just enough mischief to be useful.

The old woman rang up his purchases slowly, humming to herself as she wrapped each item in brown paper.

“Got a bit of a nose for finding the right things, haven’t you?” she said as she handed him the final package.

“Maybe,” Sirius replied. “Or maybe they found me.”

She winked at him. “That’s how it usually works in here.”

With the bell chiming softly overhead, Sirius stepped back into the alley. His bag was slightly heavier, his pockets a little lighter, and his day brighter in that quiet, unspoken way that only comes from discovering something wonderful no one else was looking for.

Sirius found Augustus exactly where he expected him to be—seated near the window at Rubean’s Café, tucked into the quieter corner of Diagon Alley, just past the main apothecary row, drinking a cup of tea.

The café was small but elegant, with pale green walls, floating lanterns bobbing above each table, and a tempting aroma of tea, toasted bread, and something buttery drifting from the kitchen. An enchanted fiddle played softly in the corner, providing background music that never repeated itself.

Augie looked up from the menu and offered a half-smile as Sirius approached, laden with brown paper parcels and a satchel that seemed a little too full to close properly.

“You look like you fought a small antique shop and barely made it out alive,” Augustus remarked, reaching to help take a few things off Sirius’s hands.

“I did. And I won. Barely.” Sirius dropped into the chair across from him, setting the enchanted sketchbook and his Twinmind journals carefully on the table. “Odds & Ends Emporium. That place is ridiculous. I think I might’ve accidentally adopted half the shop.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Augie said dryly. He gestured toward a small bundle beside his seat. “Books are all here. Crystal vials too. The potions kit’s new—mid-range quality, but with extra space in the phial rack. Didn’t bother haggling. The seller recognized the crest on my list and just nodded.”

“Efficient as always,” Sirius said, glancing over the items. “No wand explosions?”

“None that I caused.”

A cheerful young waitress floated over with a notepad, bobbing slightly as she hovered.

“Ready to order, sirs?”

“Two teas—strong black with honey,” Sirius said automatically. “And the lunch plate. Do you have the roast chicken with lemon and herbs today?”

“We do!”

“Perfect. Two, please.”

She floated away with a smile, and Sirius leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs beneath the table.

“So,” he said, eyeing Augustus over the rim of his water glass. “Brooms next?”

“Thought you might say that.” Augie unrolled a narrow sheet of parchment from his pocket—an advertisement clipped from the Young Flyer’s Gazette. “There’s a new Ironwood series in stock at Wind & Weather. Solid frame, decent acceleration, and just within your self-imposed budget.”

“Speed?”

“Faster than your cousin’s old Cleansweep. Less flair, more control.”

“Perfect,” Sirius said. “I don’t want to show off—just not get flattened on the first day.”

They paused as their tea arrived, steaming and fragrant. Sirius poured in a bit of honey, stirred once, and took a sip.

“I also want to pick up a proper map of Hogwarts grounds,” he added. “Not the ones they hand out. Something old, with hidden corridors marked if possible. Or even charmed to update itself.”

“I might know a stall near the owlery that sells collector’s guides. Mostly made by alumni. I’ll check.”

Sirius nodded, satisfied. “And we need wrapping parchment, basic sealing wax, a polishing kit for the cauldron, and ink—two vials. One with disappearing ink, if they still carry it.”

“Already noted. I’ll grab them while you try out brooms,” Augie replied, sipping his tea.

Lunch arrived—roast chicken on toast with lemon-thyme gravy, roasted roots, and sweet vinegar-glazed carrots. They ate quickly but contentedly, the kind of easy rhythm that came from years of familiarity.

When they’d cleared their plates and Sirius paid the tab, Sirius stood and stretched once more, then slung his satchel back over his shoulder.

“Alright,” he said, glancing toward the door. “Let’s finish strong.”

“You always say that,” Augie muttered, standing as well.

“That’s because I mean it.”

They stepped back into the bright, late afternoon bustle of the Alley, Sirius’s satchel bouncing gently at his side, and the list of remaining items dancing somewhere between practical and entirely unnecessary in the best possible way.

Chapter Text

The days leading up to Sirius’s departure for Hogwarts were filled with a mix of excitement and a strange, quiet sadness. He’d grown used to the wide halls and grand rooms of the Black family estate, with its ever-watchful portraits and whispers from long-gone ancestors. The idea of leaving it all behind—his routines, the familiar creak of the floorboards, even the stern glances from the old elves—tugged at his heart more than he expected. Still, he didn’t let himself linger on it too long. There were goodbyes to say, and gifts to give.

On the night before he was set to leave, Sirius found Augustus in the garden, kneeling near the base of an overgrown wall, hands deep in ivy. Augustus, always quiet and steady, worked like the manor itself would fall apart without him. Sirius approached with a small enchanted bag in hand.

"Augie," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I’ve got something for you."

Augustus turned, curious. The bag looked ordinary, but when Sirius gave it a quick flick, it expanded in midair, revealing its magical storage depth.

"It’s enchanted," Sirius said. "You can fit just about anything inside—tools, books, even your lunch. Thought it might help with your work while I’m gone."

Augustus looked at the bag, then at Sirius, a rare smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Thank you, Master Sirius," he said, quietly but with feeling.

Sirius just nodded, suddenly unsure what else to say. Goodbye felt too final.

Later that evening, he ducked into Phineas’s room. They ended up sprawled on the floor, playing a long and thoughtful game of chess, not saying much, just sharing time. When the board was packed away, Sirius pulled out one of the twin journals he’d enchanted earlier.

"Here," he said, handing it over. "It’s linked to mine. So you can write to me whenever you want—about home, school, whatever. Doesn’t need to be anything special. I just want to keep in touch."

Phineas looked at the journal, then up at Sirius with a faint, serious nod. "I’ll write," he promised.

That was enough.

Sirius’s last stop was Ella’s room. He knocked, then let himself in. She was stretched out on her bed, book in hand, looking every bit the picture of disinterest.

"What now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked and sat on the edge of her bed, lowering his voice. "I’m giving you something, but it comes with rules."

She perked up a little.

He handed her a small, floppy gray hat. "Notice-me-not charm. You wear it, people are less likely to pay attention to you. It won’t make you invisible, but it’ll make it easier to sneak around. Thought you’d like it—just… don’t go starting a revolution while I’m gone."

Ella took the hat with a grin. "No promises. You’re going to regret this, you know."

"Probably," he said with a laugh. "Just don’t drive Mother mad. At least not more than usual."

"I’ll make sure to leave a few surprises for you to clean up when you get back," she replied sweetly.

He left her room with a chuckle, then paused at the window at the end of the hall. The garden was dark now, shadows stretching long across the lawn. In the distance, he imagined he could see Hogwarts already—towering and distant, filled with magic and mystery.

The next morning, September 1st, 1856, began with a quiet, solemn air hanging over the Black household. Breakfast was served promptly at 8 a.m., but it wasn’t the usual cheerful, chaotic affair. The family dining room, grand with its crystal chandelier and dark mahogany table, felt a little too large that morning.

Sirius sat at his usual spot, dressed neatly in travel robes, his Hogwarts trunk already packed and waiting by the front door. The house-elves had prepared a generous spread—steaming rolls, jam, eggs, roasted tomatoes, and spiced tea—but no one seemed to be eating much.

His mother, Ella Black, sat upright and graceful, but her eyes lingered on Sirius with a softness that rarely broke through her usual composure. "Remember, keep your shoes polished, be punctual to every class, and write home at least once a week," she said, adjusting the collar of his robe despite it already being perfectly straight.

Cygnus Black, his father, offered more practical guidance. "Don’t let yourself be led around. Make friends, yes—but remember who you are. Keep your head high. The Black name carries weight, and you are its future."

Then came Grandfather Aquarius, towering and stern even in his old age. He laid a firm hand on Sirius’s shoulder and looked him directly in the eye. "Uphold the dignity of the House of Black in all you do," he said gravely. "Not just with pride, but with wisdom. Your choices will echo for generations."

Sirius nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Nearby, Mr. Edward Hector and his wife Polly—longtime helpers and almost like an uncle and aunt to Sirius—pulled him into warm hugs. Polly fussed over his scarf, while Edward clapped him on the back. "You'll do just fine, lad," he said with a wide grin. "Make a name for yourself, but don’t forget to enjoy it too. Hogwarts only comes once."

His siblings were each handling the morning in their own way. Phineas had been pouting since sunrise, sitting at the far end of the table and stabbing half-heartedly at a piece of toast. He hadn’t said much, but his sulky silence spoke volumes.

Ella, on the other hand, was in tears before Sirius even finished his first cup of tea. "It won’t be the same without you," she sniffled, trying—and failing—to maintain her usual sass. When little Isla saw her older sister crying, she burst into tears too, despite not quite understanding why. She simply clung to Sirius’s robes, sobbing into his robes.

Sirius tried to smile through the emotion, brushing Isla’s curls back and squeezing Ella’s hand. "I’ll be back for the holidays," he reminded them gently. "And I’ll write. Promise."

The morning wore on quickly, and as the clock chimed a quarter past nine, the moment arrived. With one last look around the room, Sirius felt the weight of home settle deep in his chest. He hugged his mother and father, gave Phineas a one-armed squeeze, kissed Isla’s forehead, and whispered something silly into Ella’s ear that made her giggle through the tears.

It was time to go.

The carriage waited outside, ready to take him to King’s Cross Station—and to a world that would change him forever.

The morning air was thick with excitement and the tension of impending goodbyes as Sirius, along with his mother Ella and father Cygnus, made their way from the Black family carriage towards the bustling Platform 9¾. They had landed directly on magical side somehow which sirius thought was impossible but anyways. 

The atmosphere at King's Cross Station was one of organized chaos. A faint hum of magic pulsed in the air, and there was the unmistakable clatter of luggage being loaded onto trains, the squeak of trolley wheels, and the occasional shriek of children bidding tearful farewells.

Ella clutched Sirius’s arm, her eyes welling up with emotion she tried to hide beneath a veil of composure. Cygnus, as always, maintained a stern facade, his black robes sweeping the ground as he walked, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. Sirius knew that beneath his father's rigid exterior, there was a certain reluctance to let go. Cygnus had always expected excellence from his family, and perhaps that was why he felt an acute sense of both pride and pressure as his son prepared to leave for Hogwarts.

"This is where we part," Cygnus murmured in a voice so low only Sirius could hear. "Remember who you are, Sirius. The House of Black expects nothing less than perfection."

Sirius gave a slight nod, fighting back the lump that had formed in his throat. "I won’t forget," he said, his voice steady despite the storm brewing inside him.

Ella, ever the emotional one, reached up to smooth his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Be careful, my darling," she whispered. "And write to us often."

With one final squeeze of his arm, his parents stepped back as he joined the throng of first-year students making their way toward the magical platform.

As they neared Platform 9¾, the scene in front of Sirius unfolded like something out of a dream—a swirl of magical energy and the hum of wizarding power. The Hogwarts Express stood proudly, a magnificent, gleaming red train surrounded by a cloud of steam. Its whistle pierced the air, cutting through the general noise like a command.

To Sirius's eyes, the train was both impressive and a little underwhelming, despite its beauty. The train's muggle origins were undeniable. It had only been operational for a few decades, a relatively recent addition to the wizarding world, and that fact was not lost on his parents. They exchanged disapproving glances, a mix of disdain and distaste clear on their faces as they eyed the Hogwarts Express with contempt.

"Would it have been so difficult to maintain the traditional means of travel?" Cygnus muttered under his breath. "This muggle-made contraption is hardly fitting for Hogwarts."

Ella, ever the lady, merely sniffed and cast an appraising look at the gleaming carriages that attached themselves to the train. "It’s certainly no abraxan carriage," she remarked, the hint of an aristocratic sneer curling her lips.

Sirius had heard his parents’ opinions on the train many times before. They found the idea of a large, steam-powered muggle machine ferrying young witches and wizards to school rather beneath their family’s dignity. Sirius, however, was just trying to get used to the idea of leaving home, and the train, muggle-made or not, was the vessel that would take him to his new life.

The platform was alive with energy. Young witches and wizards were milling about in a frenzy, gathering their belongings, saying their last goodbyes to their families, and eagerly hopping onto the train. Sirius felt a buzz of excitement in the air as families greeted each other, exchanging words of encouragement and advice.

As he made his way through the crowd, Sirius spotted familiar faces: Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett, both first-years like him. Burton was a stocky boy with a broad, jovial grin, while Cloyd was tall, lean, and quiet in comparison, his thoughtful eyes scanning the scene around them. They waved enthusiastically at Sirius, who made his way over to them, relief flooding his chest at the sight of familiar faces amidst the crowd of strangers.

"Sirius!" Burton said, clapping him on the back with far more enthusiasm than was necessary. "Ready for your first year, mate?"

Sirius grinned. "I think so. Can’t wait to get this over with." He glanced at Cloyd, who was watching them both with a reserved smile.

"Have you found a compartment yet?" Cloyd asked, his voice low but steady.

"No," Sirius replied. "I figured we could find one together."

Burton nodded eagerly. "Sounds like a plan. Let’s grab a carriage before all the good ones are taken!" He turned, looking over the crowd of students scrambling to board the train, but stopped short as a small group of young witches ran past, giggling and pointing at him.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" one of them shouted back playfully, but they were already too far away to hear. The noise of the crowd was deafening—there was the shrill sound of an owl hooting nearby, a goat bleating in the distance, and the low rumble of the train, which was starting to move slightly.

Sirius couldn't help but notice the animals scattered around the platform. Cats were darting between feet, trying to avoid being stepped on, while owls perched on the shoulders of students, hooting softly in anticipation of the journey. He even saw a few magical creatures Sirius hadn’t seen in person before like nifflers darting around the ground, searching for anything shiny. 

As they made their way to the nearest carriage, the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the occasional bark of a dog surrounded them. Several other students had already boarded, but there was plenty of room for Sirius, Burton, and Cloyd to squeeze in. They found a compartment, and Sirius settled in, his stomach fluttering nervously as the train doors closed with a soft thud.

Outside, his parents were still there, greeting acquaintances, shaking hands, and exchanging pleasantries with other distinguished families from the wizarding world. Cygnus was deep in conversation with someone from the Lestrange family, while Ella was speaking with Lady Malfoy, both women wearing polite but tight smiles. Sirius couldn’t hear the words, but the way they spoke told him it was all about business—about connections, status, and the ongoing pursuit of their family’s reputation.

Sirius pressed his face to the window and waved one last time, his heart heavy with the thought of leaving his family behind, even if it was only for a short while. The train slowly began to pull away, and with a last lingering glance, Sirius turned to face his friends. The adventure was about to begin.

One hour into the journey, Sirius looked up from his game of Exploding Snap, hearing a soft knock on the compartment door. He glanced up to see his cousins standing there, their faces grinning mischievously as always. Lawrence, the more outgoing one, was holding a small bag, and Stephen, his older brother, looked a little more reserved, though equally curious.

"Hey, cousin, how’s the ride?" Lawrence asked cheerfully as he entered the compartment, offering Sirius a bright smile. In his hand, he held out a blue candy, the wrapper crinkling slightly as he offered it. "Meet Hemres Rookwood," he continued, gesturing to the brown-haired boy standing behind them. "He's in Stephen's year."

Sirius gave a small nod, returning Lawrence’s smile. He had met Hermes before—his parents and the Rookwoods had shared various gatherings over the years. Hermes, with his neatly kept brown hair and a calm demeanor, looked every bit the Hufflepuff he likely was, judging by his robes and the subtle way he observed his surroundings.

"Nice to meet you, Hermes," Sirius said, offering a warm handshake as he took the candy Lawrence had given him.

Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett, who had been lounging on the seats, looked up at the newcomers with mild interest. Burton, always the talker, leaned forward. "More family, huh?" he said, grinning. "What’s the candy situation like? We’re about to run out of these frogs."

Cloyd, who had been lazily flipping through a small magical card game, rolled his eyes. "Are you really going to eat all the chocolate frogs, Burton? At this rate, you’ll be bouncing off the walls by the time we get there."

Burton chuckled, not missing a beat. "I’d be happy to bounce off a few walls if it means I can avoid more of your bad jokes, Cloyd."

Sirius smiled, glad to have his friends around to liven up the ride. "If it’s more candy you’re after, the trolley’s going to pass through soon. I’m planning on stocking up," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "How about you two?"

"Already on it," Burton said, reaching into his bag to pull out a small pile of Galleons. "I’ll take anything that isn’t chocolate frogs. These things are starting to make my teeth ache."

"Yeah, same here," Cloyd added, putting his card game aside. "But don’t go overboard. We don’t want to end up with sugar rushes by the time we get to Hogwarts."

As if on cue, the trolley witch came down the aisle, calling out, "Sweet treats! Chocolate frogs, sugar quills, and licorice wands!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, looking at his friends. "Ready to load up?" he asked.

Burton grinned. "Oh, I’m already halfway there. Get me the chocolate frogs, the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, and those sugar quills."

Cloyd shook his head with a smirk, pulling out a couple of Galleons. "I’ll take a pumpkin pasty and one of those licorice wands. I’m not in the mood for sweets today."

Sirius chuckled and turned to the trolley witch. "I’ll take a dozen of everything. Go big or go home, right?"

The trolley witch gave him a knowing smile, clearly used to kids overloading on candy. "You’ve got it, dear. A dozen of each, coming right up."

She made her way down the aisle, and soon enough, they had a small mountain of candy piled up between them. Burton immediately grabbed a chocolate frog, tearing into it with a flourish. "Here’s hoping for a good collectible card this time," he said, popping the frog into his mouth.

Cloyd carefully unwrapped his licorice wand, eyeing it suspiciously before taking a small bite. "Not bad," he admitted, though he didn’t look all that impressed.

Sirius, satisfied with his own haul, leaned back in his seat, dropping all the candy into his leather satchel with a contented sigh. "This is exactly what I needed. A good stash to get me through the journey."

Lawrence, still standing in the doorway, looked at the pile of candy and raised an eyebrow. "You guys are really going all in on the sweets, huh?" he asked, eyeing the pile with amusement.

Sirius grinned. "It’s been a long time since I’ve had much candy. I’m making up for lost time."

"Same here," Burton added, grinning and popping another frog into his mouth. "You know what they say—candy today, breakfast tomorrow."

Stephen, looking more reserved, watched his cousins and friends with a mixture of confusion and mild fascination. "Do you guys always eat so much?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Of course," Cloyd replied with a wink. "You’ve got to start young if you want to survive the Hogwarts food situation. The sweets are the best part of the ride."

Hermes, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up, his voice soft but thoughtful. "It’s a bit surprising, though. I thought we’d be on a more... traditional wizarding transport. This Muggle train is nice, but it’s so... different."

Sirius chuckled at the serious tone in Hermes' voice. "It’s all right, Hermes," he said with a reassuring grin. "It’s not the train that makes the ride—it’s the company."

Burton snorted. "And the candy," he added.

The group laughed together, the atmosphere in the compartment light and easy. They spent the next few hours playing games, eating candy, and chatting about their hopes for the school year. It wasn’t long before they’d all forgotten the time, wrapped up in the joy of the journey ahead.

"Anyone want to start another game of Exploding Snap?" Sirius asked, looking around at his friends as the train rumbled steadily along. "We can’t let Burton win again, right?"

"Oh, you want to challenge me, huh?" Burton grinned, already shuffling the cards. "You better be ready to lose."

Cloyd raised an eyebrow but smiled. "Yeah, sure. You’ve been winning all morning. Let’s see if you can keep the streak going."

The games resumed with more laughter, the chatter flowing freely between them. They were all eager for what lay ahead, but for now, the thrill of the journey, the excitement of Hogwarts, and the endless supply of sweets were enough to keep them entertained.

" Hogsmeade station is 1 hour away. Students please leave your Trunks and Pets with it named properly and fully mentioned on trunks and Cages of Pets. Proper uniforms are compulsory for All students during the ceremony. Hogsmeade Station 1 hour away. Current time - 4:30 P.M.” 

An hour after this announcement, the train came to a slow stop with a groan of metal against metal. Sirius leaned forward, peering out of the window. The platform outside was bustling with activity, and the air was sharp and chilly. He could see students scrambling to gather their belongings, eager to get off the train. The door behind him opened, and a flood of excited first years surged past, some nervously clutching their sling bags, others chatting excitedly with friends. Sirius barely had time to collect his things before the compartment door swung open, and the crowd started pushing forward.

"Here we go," Cloyd said with a grin, nudging Burton as he got up. Burton, ever the jokester, chuckled and slapped Sirius on the back.

"Hope you’re ready for your first real taste of Hogwarts, mate," he said, the usual mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Sirius couldn't help but smile. "I’m more ready for the food than the castle, but I suppose we’ll see."

The trio shuffled with the crowd, making their way out into the brisk evening air. Sirius was sandwiched between a few kids, the chaos of the crowd pulling him this way and that. After navigating through the thick mass of students, he emerged into the open air and took a deep breath. The chill of the evening felt sharp against his skin, and he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders.

Ahead of him, several horseless carriages were lined up, waiting for the students. To his surprise, the carriages filled quickly, leaving a vast majority of students standing around, unsure of what to do.

"Guess we’re walking," Burton said, his tone a little disappointed. "Though it looks like they're coming back for us." He pointed to the carriages that had started to return toward the front.

"Yeah, it’s a bit odd, isn’t it?" Cloyd said, eyes scanning the crowd. "I thought we were supposed to ride those. Don’t they usually pull up the first years first?"

Sirius shrugged. "Guess we’ll find out in a minute."

The two adults standing at the front called out for first years, and the crowd parted slightly, revealing two groups of kids. Sirius noticed that there were more than 100 first years, and they were herded into a group by the two adults. 

Sirius felt a buzz of excitement in his chest. This was it—the first step toward Hogwarts. Burton and Cloyd flanked him as they moved toward the boats. The students were split into groups of four, and soon, Sirius found himself seated in the second boat, his friends beside him. An adult climbed into the boat in front, and another took the rear. The boats began to move, gliding silently across the water, as if pulled by the magic of lights.

Sirius looked around at the other boats, the other first years—some whispering nervously, others excitedly pointing at the castle. He felt a bit of that same excitement, mixed with an odd sense of awe as he turned his gaze forward.

And then, it happened.

Ahead of him, the dark silhouette of Hogwarts Castle slowly emerged from the shadows. The sight was like something out of a dream—a towering mass of stone, hundreds of towers rising into the night sky, windows sparkling with a golden glow. The walls were endless, stretching high and wide, roofs that seemed to have no end. The whole thing was bathed in a faint, almost ethereal light, casting a golden glow over the lake. The view was breathtaking. It looked like a place from a fairytale, a majestic, ancient place that didn’t belong anywhere near the Muggle world.

Sirius’s breath caught in his throat. “Wow,” he muttered, barely able to tear his eyes away. The boat rocked gently as it moved toward the castle, but his gaze was fixed on the distant walls, the glittering lights inside.

"Yeah, it’s something, isn’t it?" Burton said, clearly impressed too. "I’ve never seen anything like it. Looks like the kind of place where you’d expect to run into a ghost or two."

Cloyd let out a low whistle. "It’s like it’s alive, isn't it? The way it just... glows in the dark. I can't wait to explore that place."

Sirius was so caught up in the beauty of the scene that he didn’t even notice the boat had started to get closer to the shore. He looked down at his watch. It was only 6:30 in the evening, but the sun had already set, and darkness had claimed the sky. It felt much later than it was.

The boats reached the shore, and they disembarked in a line, their boats hitting the gravel as they made their way towards the edge of the water. The first years gathered in a loose group, some whispering excitedly to each other, while others just stood, wide-eyed, taking in the towering castle before them.

The adults—the caretakers of Hogwarts, no doubt—stood waiting at the water’s edge, guiding them with firm but gentle hands. The remaining first years were ushered quickly out of the boats, The air was crisp, and a quiet, almost reverent atmosphere settled over them as they approached.

Sirius glanced at his friends as they trudged up the steps, the excitement palpable in the air. They were nearly there. The grand doors of Hogwarts loomed ahead, so large that even Sirius felt tiny in their shadow. A line of students was already standing in front of the doors, whispering among themselves.

The doors creaked open, revealing the enormous entryway. It felt like stepping into another world. The hall beyond was vast, stretching high above their heads. The golden glow from the windows cast a warm light over the stone walls, giving the entire hall an almost magical glow. But it was the sense of history in that room—the years upon years of students passing through those doors—that made the space feel alive with possibility.

A tall figure stepped forward from within the hall, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the silence. The figure was dressed in rich robes, the kind that Sirius immediately recognized as belonging to a professor. The professor smiled warmly at them, and with a nod, she greeted the students.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said in a voice that carried over the students.

Chapter Text

A lady, tall with a gentle yet commanding presence, stepped forward. She had long auburn hair that cascaded down her back and a serene expression on her face. Her robes shimmered in the dim light, and her voice reached every ear, no matter how far they were from her.

"Hogwarts welcomes its new generation into its halls. May Mother Earth be with you always, and may you have successful years as pupils in the great halls of Hogwarts. Welcome, young wizards and witches."

Sirius stood tall, a soft smile on his lips, though he could sense that many of the other first years were unsure what to do. They stared at him and a few others who, like him, had been raised with certain traditions. The words of the greeting felt familiar, and without hesitation, he joined in with a few others.

"Thank you for the kind welcome Professor. May Mother Magic bless you."

A ripple of confused stares passed through the crowd. Many students looked around, wondering if they were supposed to respond in kind. Sirius could sense their hesitation, but he didn’t mind. This greeting, taught to him by his mother, had always been a part of their life—used to greet new people and situations with respect. It was something that felt natural to him, though here, it was certainly met with mixed reactions.

The lady smiled kindly, clearly understanding the momentary confusion. She gave a nod and continued. "I am Eupraxia Mole, Deputy Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Finally, I welcome you all to this sacred place of learning. Please follow me in two lines. Madam Oplye and Mister Alton, please guide the pupils in maintaining decorum."

Sirius glanced around as they were ushered into two neat lines. He caught sight of his friends—Burton and Cloyd—who were still chatting eagerly about the sorting. They were clearly excited, though both kept sneaking glances at the magnificent hall.

Sirius took a deep breath as they began moving forward, feeling the anticipation building. The massive hall stretched out before them, eight long parallel tables gleaming in the light of floating candles. They were guided to benches in front of the tables, where they were instructed to sit in preparation for the Sorting Ceremony. Although the benches looked hard and uncomfortable, Sirius quickly discovered that a simple charm made them soft and welcoming.

As the group settled, Sirius found himself marveling at the sight of the long teachers’ table ahead of them. There were many chairs—some simple, some adorned in bright colors, and others unique, like the two purple chairs that seemed to stand apart from the rest. At the center of the second platform just below the teachers table, a three-legged stool sat, topped with an old, tattered purple hat that was clearly the famed Sorting Hat. He could almost feel it watching him, awaiting its turn to work its magic.

Professor Mole stepped aside, taking her place at one of the purple chairs. The air seemed to grow even heavier with anticipation as Headmaster Dexter Fortescue, a tall and dignified man, stood and moved to the front of the room. His presence was enough to silence the chatter instantly. The hall became still, and the flickering lights seemed to dim in reverence.

"Welcome, pupils—old and new—to the sacred halls of our beloved Hogwarts. We hope everyone had a good time during the break from studies, and that our new pupils are equally as enthusiastic to begin their journey."

A murmur of appreciation rippled through the hall, and the Headmaster paused, his gaze sweeping across the students.

"We have 152 new members joining us this year, and we hope they have the best time here, with students and teachers old and new. We also bid farewell to 102 young aspiring adults last year who joined us at your age, and they accomplished great things, making their futures bright. We wish the same—and more—for each of you."

At his words, applause erupted from both the students and faculty. The warm sound filled the Great Hall like a wave, and Sirius couldn’t help but smile at the thought of all the potential that lay ahead of them.

"And yes," Headmaster Fortescue continued with a slight twinkle in his eye, "many of you are waiting for the marvelous food our little helpers have prepared for us. But before that, dear first years, please wait for your respective sorting call. Then, Gryffindors, move to red and gold if bravery is your trait. Hufflepuffs, move to yellow and coal if hard work soothes your soul. Ravenclaws, move to blue and bronze if being wise is your goal. And lastly, noble Slytherins, move to green and silver if achieving your ambitions is your ultimate resolve."

The Sorting Hat, which had been silent until now, suddenly stirred to life. It opened its brim and began to sing, its voice echoing throughout the hall, warm and wise yet slightly mischievous.

"Oh, one might not label me beautiful,
For I’m no mundane cloth!
A dull face, a patch on the left,
A rip on the brim, but a piece of craft!
Look beyond the surface for a few olden facts,
Don’t be surprised, poise your act!
For I’ve got more brains and wit,
Than any other hat you will ever meet!
I live to sort, to sing and shout,
Where you belong at the beginning of your life!
Should you be in Gryffindor?
Where lie those brave at heart?
Should you be in Ravenclaw?
Where dwell the bright and smart?
Should you be in Hufflepuff?
Where belong the just and fair?
Or should you be in Slytherin?
Where guile and ambition are a pair?
Young lassies and frightened lads,
Do come forward and never fret!
For there is nothing I haven’t seen,
Nothing I haven’t heard!
So waste not a moment now!
Let me adorn your brow,
And tell you of who you’re worthy for,
I am a Hat of literature,
Made to decide your adventures!"

The song ended with a flourish, and applause rang through the hall. The magic of the Sorting Hat was undeniable, and a wave of excitement passed over the students. Headmaster Fortescue clapped his hands twice and said with a warm smile, "Begin."

At his signal, Deputy Headmistress Mole stood, a floor length scroll in hand, and began calling names. Sirius, his heart racing, sat with his friends, ready for his turn. There was no rhyme or rhythm to the order of the names being called, and as the first name rang out, the Sorting Ceremony began.

Sirius was called after five Lions, six Badgers, five Ravens, and four Snakes had already been sorted. He was the twenty-first student to be called—coincidentally, the same as his birth date. But with 152 students in total, it was nothing more than that: a coincidence.

He stepped forward and placed the Sorting Hat gently on his head. The moment it settled, a voice echoed in his mind.

“Ambitions sky high, cunning to achieve them… not afraid of hard work, and you value intelligence even more than some who dwell where wit is prized. Proud of your heritage, yet brave enough to stand against parts of it. Hmm… quite the mix. So tell me, young mage, where do you wish to make your fortunes?”

In his mind, Sirius answered firmly: “Slytherin.”

Without hesitation, the Hat cried aloud, “Slytherin!”

Sirius removed the Hat, handed it back to Madam Mole, and made his way toward the long table draped in green and silver. Four newly sorted Slytherins were already seated there. Some were sampling the light snacks arranged in silver trays down the center of the table, but most eyes in the Great Hall were still fixed on the Sorting. As each new student was announced, the upper years clapped courteously, welcoming them into their respective Houses.

As Sirius took his seat, he glanced at his watch again—an old habit, one that had lain dormant since his last life but now seemed to be returning. It was 7:10 PM. At the pace the Sorting was going, it seemed likely to conclude a little after 8 o’clock. The enchanted list in Madam Mole’s hands continued to unfurl smoothly, each name rising toward her as if guided by an invisible breeze.

Sirius had barely settled onto the green-bannered bench when he heard the next name called aloud in the hall.

“Flint, Burton.”

Burton, tall for his age with an easy confidence in his stride, marched up to the stool without hesitation. He gave Sirius a quick grin before slipping the Sorting Hat onto his head. The hat paused for only a few seconds before shouting—

“Slytherin!”

Burton tossed the hat back to Madam Mole with a casual flick of his wrist and made his way down to the Slytherin table, sliding onto the bench beside Sirius.

“Not bad company,” Burton muttered with a smirk, eyeing the green decor. “Suppose we’re stuck together now.”

Sirius returned the smirk, “Weren’t we always?”

Next came a name that Sirius knew would be interesting.

“Prewett, Cloyd.”

Cloyd, sandy-haired and slightly round-faced, looked less confident than Burton but still walked steadily toward the stool. He threw one last uncertain look over his shoulder—partly to Sirius, partly to no one in particular—before placing the hat over his head.

There was a pause, longer than most.

“Slytherin!”

Cloyd yanked the hat off and let out a small breath of relief before descending the steps quickly, shooting Sirius and Burton a quick grin as he joined them.

“Told you I’d make it,” he whispered, sliding into place. “Hat didn’t think I had it in me.”

“You’re a Prewett,” Burton replied, clapping him on the back. “No one ever does—until you surprise them.”

Sirius smiled faintly at that, warmed by the company of his friends. In the sea of unfamiliar faces, the fact that they were now together in the same house, at the start of this new chapter, gave him a quiet sense of comfort—and confidence.

From the high table, the Sorting continued. Names were called, cheers rang out, and the new house tables slowly filled with students, each beginning their journey in the magical world of Hogwarts.

By the time the last student was sorted—one Zeller, Maribelle to Hufflepuff—the hall echoed with applause. A few older students whooped and clapped extra loudly, clearly signaling the end of a long ceremony.

By 8:12, the Sorting came to an end. The distribution had settled at thirty-seven Gryffindors, forty Hufflepuffs, thirty-nine Ravenclaws, and thirty-six Slytherins. With everyone still wearing identical pointy hats, it was impossible to guess the boy-to-girl ratio just yet.

Headmaster Fortescue stood once more, his voice carrying easily across the Great Hall.

“We would save more lectures for tomorrow. Now, food is ready for us by the blessings of Mother Magic. Savor it.”

And with a clap of his hands, the tables filled with food—platters of roast meats, bowls of golden potatoes, thick gravies, fresh bread, glistening vegetables, and warm pies of every variety.

At the Slytherin table, Sirius leaned back and allowed the rich scent to flood his senses. Burton was already piling his plate; Cloyd, still looking faintly stunned, blinked at the sudden feast.

Dinner began promptly at 8:15 PM—a late start, perhaps, but no one was complaining.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Sirius said with a crooked grin, lifting his goblet.

“To seven years of mischief,” Burton added, clinking his cup to Sirius’s.

“And surviving them,” Cloyd said with mock-seriousness, raising his own.

They dug in, three boys beneath a green banner, the newest generation of Slytherins—together

The Great Hall buzzed with conversation and clinking cutlery as dinner unfolded. The newly sorted Slytherins sat grouped at one end of the long green-bannnered table, surrounded by older students who watched them with varying degrees of curiosity, indifference, or subtle appraisal.

Sirius Rigel Black, seated beside Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett, found himself easing into the rhythm of Hogwarts faster than he’d expected. The three boys chatted between bites, plates piled with roast meats, soft bread rolls, and thick gravy-soaked vegetables.

Burton, mouth half-full, nudged Sirius lightly. “Not bad for school food, eh?”

Cloyd snorted as he helped himself to a second helping of mashed turnip. “You didn’t see the way that roast duck tried to fly off the platter when I poked it.”

“Probably a welcome charm gone wrong,” Sirius replied with a slight grin. “Or a house-elf having fun.”

Around them, the rest of their housemates were engaged in similar conversations. Many of the first-years were introducing themselves—some shyly, others with the polished airs of practiced courtesy. A few seemed to be copying the etiquette of their peers, watching how to hold cutlery or when to speak.

Sirius sat back slightly, trying to keep track of the names around him. It was difficult with the chatter overlapping and his head beginning to throb mildly. Still, he nodded politely where expected and murmured pleasantries when prompted.

Eventually, a boy seated directly opposite to Sirius leaned forward, his voice smooth and clipped.

“Greetings. I am Felix of House Nott. And you are…?”

Sirius turned to meet the boy’s gaze, noting the finely cut green-trimmed robes and a posture that screamed pedigree. He replied with a practiced nod, “Greetings, Felix Nott. I’m Sirius Rigel of the House of Black.”

That earned him a few sidelong glances from nearby students. His name, evidently, had some weight.

Felix arched a brow, faint recognition dawning and said in a slight edgy tone. “Ah. I saw you at the Yule Ball, didn’t I?”

“I apologize,” Sirius said coolly, suppressing the urge to rub his temples. “I was occupied that evening. Still, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

His smile was polite—just enough to pass for genuine. Felix accepted it with a slight incline of his head.

With that, more students began introducing themselves. One by one, Sirius committed their names to memory: a tall girl named Calpurnia Mulciber, who spoke like every word was a decree; Cassian Rosier, soft-spoken but watchful; a lean boy named Arlo Vaisey, who said little but gave Burton a firm nod of approval after hearing his name.

Some students, however, kept their circles tight. Sirius noticed a few muggleborns and half-bloods being pointedly excluded from conversations by certain older students—not all, but enough to be noticeable. It was subtle: a conversation turned aside, a glance passed over. Sirius didn’t like it. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He greeted each person who approached with the same calm courtesy, regardless of lineage.

Soon enough, he was eating and conversing in equal measure. Burton kept things light with clever quips about the ceiling charm—“reckon it’s programmed to make the sky more dramatic”—while Cloyd launched into an impassioned defense of the Black Lake being filled with sea monsters. “I read it in Wand & Waterways! It's a cursed trench!”

Desserts replaced the main course as the hour wore on. The steaming platters vanished without warning, replaced by dishes of fruit, tarts, chocolate mousse, and a creamy strawberry pudding that Sirius allowed himself to try. It was lighter than he expected, the perfect close to the meal.

By the time the clock struck nine, the food vanished from the tables entirely, leaving gleaming plates and spotless goblets behind. Conversations had quieted. Across the hall, students leaned back in their seats, full and content.

From the Slytherin table, two prefects stood and called for the first-years. A tall, sharp-eyed girl and a dark-haired boy with a captain’s confidence stepped forward.

“All first-years, line up behind us, please,” she called. “Two lines.”

As they stood and began forming into neat rows, Sirius glanced at Burton and Cloyd. They were still grinning, clearly enjoying the chaos of it all. Behind them, two more prefects began a headcount, murmuring quietly as they tallied the group.

The rest of the hall stirred at a more relaxed pace—older students stretching, joking, and exchanging stories from their summer holidays. As the new Slytherins began to move, swept along by the crowd, Sirius quickly lost track of where they were heading. Too many students, too many shifting bodies.

The group of first-year Slytherins arrived at a grand portrait two staircases below the ground floor. The painting depicted a regal-looking couple, robed in elegant silver and green. Their eyes, sharp and knowing, followed the students with lifelike curiosity.

A male prefect stepped forward and addressed them clearly, his voice echoing slightly in the stone corridor.

“This is one of the entrances to the Slytherin House common room. It operates on a verbal password, which changes monthly. The password for September is ‘Secrets are Sacred.’”

He gestured to the moving figures inside the portrait as he continued. “Lord and Lady Silvian will only permit entry if the password is spoken correctly.”

“Very well said, young man,” said Lady Silvian from the portrait, nodding approvingly. With a graceful motion, she and her companion stepped aside within the frame, and the portrait swung open, revealing a wide, well-lit dungeon corridor draped with colorful tapestries.

The prefect began walking forward again. “These tapestries mark the other ten known entrances into our common room. They connect to hidden staircases scattered throughout the castle. You’ll learn more about them over the next few years.”

The students followed the prefect deeper into the corridor and emerged into the heart of the Slytherin common room. It was a vast, multi-leveled chamber carved into the foundation of the castle. Warmth radiated from several fireplaces, their golden glow dancing across walls draped in shades of green, grey, silver, black, and white. Large glass panes offered a mysterious view into the depths of the Black Lake, where flickers of aquatic life glided past like phantoms in the dark.

The room was both majestic and comfortable. Couches, armchairs, and benches were arranged in loose patterns across the floor, each paired with low tables and writing desks. Silver curtains partially concealed alcoves tucked into the walls, offering privacy or quiet for reading or reflection. Winding staircases led to upper and lower levels, and balconies hung with ivy and bookcases peeked out from above. The vaulted ceiling bore a painted mural, a vivid tale of ancient Slytherin victories and legends, bathed in firelight from the hearths.

Students milled about the space—some climbing stairs, others gathering in clusters on the plush furniture. The new first-years were directed into a semicircle around a group of older students waiting to address them.

A tall, confident seventh-year boy stepped forward. “I am Markus Flintstone, seventh-year prefect,” he announced. “With me are your house prefects and student council.”

He gestured down the line as he introduced each by name and year: “Gemina Markeley, also seventh-year. Louis Rowle and Alie Littcott, sixth-year. Samuel Ericstone and Christabell Yaxley, fifth-year. Walter Orpington, Humfrey Ogden, Elseth Crabbe, and Allison Harriswool, fourth-year. Gabriel Flame, Helen Scrimgeour, Joanne Chapman, and Sussane Bones from third-year. Edwin Perris, Madilon Hopkirk, Barnebye Prince, and Beatrix Rosier from second-year, And finally four among you will be chosen to represent first-years after the end of first month based on your performance.”

“These twenty two form the student council of the Noble House of Slytherin,” Mark Flint continued. “If you face conflict—whether within our house or beyond—report it to one of us.”

He gave them all a measured look before continuing. “Girls’ accommodations are upstairs to the left side of the common room. Boys’ accommodations are downstairs, also to the left. Follow your assigned council guide to your dormitories. Be ready at 7:30 A.M. for further instructions.”

With that, the first-years were divided and guided away to their respective sleeping quarters, still murmuring among themselves in hushed tones about the grandeur of their new home.

The corridors echoed with the shuffling feet and muffled voices of over a hundred students moving together.

But Sirius didn’t mind. He was in good company. He had friends beside him, a house behind him, and ahead—an entire castle to explore.

Just two floors below the main common room, the procession of first-year Slytherin boys arrived at a spacious, dimly lit chamber that mirrored the grandeur above. Arched ceilings, flickering fireplaces, and the familiar interplay of silver and green lent a continuity to the space. Though quieter than the common room, it still buzzed with life. Older students drifted through the area—some carrying towels as they made their way to or from the nearby baths, others laughing in hushed voices, deep in whispered conversation as they leaned against doorframes or perched casually on staircases.

The walls were lined with doors bearing polished silver plaques, some already glowing faintly in the low light. Balconies overlooked the room from the floor above, offering glimpses of additional seating nooks and bookcases. Several hallways extended inwards, weaving deeper into the dungeons. The scent of damp stone, faintly tinged with soap and firewood, lingered in the air.

“Alright, gather ‘round,” came a voice from the front.

Two fourth-year students stepped forward. One was tall and thin, with short-clipped straw-blond hair and sharp eyes: Walter Orpington. The other was shorter but broader, his nose slightly crooked as if it had once been broken and never quite healed right: Humfrey Ogden.

Walter scanned the group like he was appraising a set of items in a shop window. “Let’s not drag this out. You’ll be assigned rooms—don’t argue, don’t whine. If you’re unsure of anything, ask me or Ogden here. Otherwise, follow instructions, mind your tone, and you’ll get through your first week just fine.”

Ogden gave a grunt of agreement. “And keep it down. Some of the upper-years have early rotations. Don’t be the reason they hex you before breakfast.”

Sirius stood near the front, flanked by Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett. A few others clustered near them—Felix Nott, a boy named Carrow, and several others whose names Sirius hadn’t memorized yet. Toward the back of the group stood six boys—two with the faint air of unease around them. Sirius recognized one of them from earlier: Henry Pilch, a Muggleborn. Another, Wesley Moore, looked similarly out of place, glancing subtly at the tapestries and portraits with a mixture of awe and tension.

“Black, Sirius Rigel,” Walter called.

Sirius stepped forward.

“Single or shared?” Ogden asked, quieter this time, voice barely above the crackle of the nearest fire.

“Single,” Sirius replied evenly, aware of several ears perking at the response.

Ogden nodded without comment and made a quick note. “Room 1. Down the left corridor. First on the right. Name’s already on the plaque.”

Sirius gave a short nod and stepped back.

“Flint, Burton. Prewett, Cloyd.”

The two boys walked forward together.

“Twin-share?” Walter asked, already assuming.

“Together,” Cloyd said, a little too quickly.

Walter smirked. 

Cloyd bristled but didn’t respond. Ogden just scratched the name on his list and pointed. “Room 3. Opposite end of Black’s hall. Don’t break anything.”

As Sirius returned to his seat, he noticed Felix Nott step forward next.

“Nott,” Ogden muttered. “Double. With Carrow.”

Carrow looked smugly pleased, as if being paired with Nott was a personal victory. The two were assigned a room across from Flint and Prewett.

As the sorting continued, the list became less subtle. When it came to names like Henry Pilch, Wesley Moore, or the half-blood boys—Andrew Roper, Callum Fiske, Benji Dorn, and Tomas Meade—no choices were offered.

“Six-share. Room 8,” Walter announced flatly, without even asking preferences. The largest dormitory, tucked into a far corner of the lower floor, practically in the shadows. “Don’t make a mess. Don’t touch anyone’s trunk but your own. And if something goes missing, we assume the worst.”

A flicker of discomfort crossed Henry’s face. Tomas Meade clenched his jaw but said nothing. The rest followed, subdued. None of the noble boys were assigned to that room.

Sirius watched this exchange with a tightening in his chest. No words were spoken outright, but the message was clear. Discrimination in Slytherin didn’t always shout—it whispered, it shifted, it assigned.

The sorting finished shortly after, and the fourth-years offered no additional guidance beyond vague gestures toward the bathrooms and the location of their rooms.

As the new first-years began drifting toward their chambers, the ambient life of the House continued around them. A sixth-year boy in green-striped pyjamas stepped out of a nearby door, yawning and levitating a book toward the armchair by the fire. Two second-years giggled as they raced up the stairs to fetch something forgotten. An older girl leaned over a railing on the balcony above, deep in conversation with a seventh-year prefect, both of them sipping tea from conjured mugs.

Sirius lingered a moment, waiting for Burton and Cloyd to catch up. When they passed, he clapped Cloyd lightly on the shoulder. “Settle in well. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“You got the single, didn’t you?” Burton asked with a half-smile.

Sirius raised an eyebrow but kept his voice mild. “Would you expect anything else?”

Cloyd snorted softly. “I suppose not. Good night, Sirius.”

“Good night.”

He turned down the corridor Ogden had pointed out, and soon came to a door bearing his full name:
Sirius Rigel Black – 1st Year.

He stepped inside and closed it softly behind him.

The room was quiet. Private. His.

A large four-poster bed stood proudly in the center, its curtains done in green and silver damask. A study desk with clean parchment and fresh ink waited by the window. A small fireplace glowed gently, casting soft gold onto the stone walls. Two armchairs sat beside it, framing a low table. The cupboards stood empty, waiting. The bookcase, bare but full of promise.

Sirius stepped to the small, round submarine-style window and looked out into the black lake, where shadows of strange fish flickered by like ghosts. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

It wasn’t home—not yet. But it was his. And in Slytherin House, that was already a kind of power.

Chapter Text

It was late when Sirius finally drifted to sleep, his mind buzzing with names, voices, and the dull ache of a long day’s tension. The flickering light from the fireplace danced across the dark green walls of his new quarters, casting quiet shapes on the ceiling. Somewhere down the hall, a door creaked, a student laughed, and the plumbing sighed through the ancient bones of the castle.

He hadn’t even changed out of his uniform before collapsing onto the four-poster bed. Hogwarts was larger than life, but tonight, it was simply overwhelming. The sort of overwhelming he couldn’t admit aloud—not yet.

When he awoke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the cinnamon. A single biscuit rested on a tray beside a steaming teacup on the small table by the fire. He sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and blinked at the unfamiliar softness of the blanket tucked around him. The room had changed.

The cold, impersonal greens and greys of the night before were still there, but softened—layered now with warmth. The tapestry on the wall had transformed into a celestial chart, with silver-stitched constellations forming serpents and dragons winding across the stars. The fire gave off a golden glow, far gentler than it had been. The curtains had a richer sheen, the bedcovers bore a more elegant pattern in House colors, his clothes were unpacked in the wardrobe and his desk now held a neat stack of parchment, a quill, and a polished inkpot. 

Sirius didn’t need to ask.

“Kint,” he murmured.

The elf appeared instantly with a bow, eyes wide with pride and a hint of anxiety.

“Kint is sorry for not asking, Master Sirius, but you were sleeping, and Kint thought it best to do something nice, sir.”

Sirius looked around the room once more. He didn’t usually care about his surroundings—home had always been perfectly kept without needing his input. But somehow, this felt different. Like Kint had tried to bring a sliver of Black Manor into the dungeons.

“It’s fine,” Sirius said at last, voice low. “Thank you, Kint.”

Kint beamed, nodded deeply, and quietly vanished.

Sirius slid out of bed, picked up the parchment from the desk, and uncapped the ink. He sat down, quill in hand, and began to write.

Dear Father and Mother,

I have arrived safely and been sorted—into Slytherin, of course. As expected, but I’ll admit: hearing it confirmed still brought a subtle satisfaction. Even foregone conclusions must be fulfilled to hold value, no?

The Sorting Hat considered my mind for only a moment before it echoed what we’ve always known. I walked to the Slytherin table with my head high.

Burton and Cloyd were sorted right after me. You’ll be pleased to know they're both here as well. Old friends, steady company. Cloyd had a bit of an argument with the Hat—it tried to send him to Gryffindor of all places—but he made the correct choice in the end. I suspect that will earn him a bit of quiet respect down here.

The House is as it should be. Traditional, elegant, focused. There are undercurrents already—alliances forming, lines being drawn. I’ll observe carefully before moving.

The castle is everything they say it is and more. The arrival by boat beneath the moon was... dramatic. Fitting, really. I couldn’t help but imagine how it will look when Phineas arrives in a few years. He’ll do well here—especially if he’s prepared. Tell him I’ll write to him soon, with advice.

I already miss the manor, and our evenings together, especially mischief caused by Ella at every other moment, even soft cries of Isla, but I intend to make the name Black shine even brighter here, as I was raised to.

Your dutiful son,
Sirius Rigel Black

He sealed the letter with green wax and passed it to Kint, who reappeared without being summoned this time, as if sensing the moment.

“This goes home. To both of them.”

Kint nodded solemnly. “Kint will make sure it gets there, sir. At once.”

With a pop, he was gone again.

Sirius sat back, sipping the tea. He let the cinnamon from the biscuit linger on his tongue as the morning light—faint and filtered through the Black Lake above—cast soft green shadows across the room.

A new beginning had quietly arrived in the night. And Sirius Black was ready.

At breakfast —just as Sirius was buttering a warm cinnamon scone and listening half-heartedly to Burton's account of a Slytherin fourth year who claimed to have dueled a Veela in summer—the whisper reached the Slytherin table like a cold wind under the door.

Cloyd was the first to pick it up, pausing mid-sip of tea. “They're saying we’ll be tested,” he said, voice low but alert. “Divided into sections.”

Arlo Vaisey leaned in from a seat over. “It’s not a rumor. I heard Orpington and Ogden talking about it last night. Some kind of evaluation. To separate the real scholars from... the rest.”

Sirius didn't look up immediately. Instead, he smoothed the corner of his napkin and reached for the pot of clotted cream. “When is this happening?”

“On 5th,” Vaisey replied. “Two exams. Morning and evening. Eight subjects total. It’s all structured. Arithmancy, History, Herbology, and Astronomy in the morning. Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and Defensive Magic in the evening.”

“And english language,” added Burton, nodding. “Reading and writing scores are tucked in.”

There was a subtle change in the air. The Ravenclaws, further down the hall, had already begun clutching their parchment and quills nervously, some muttering incantations under their breath. The Hufflepuffs whispered anxiously, while a few Gryffindors exchanged grins that didn’t quite reach their eyes. Among the Muggleborns, confusion flickered—some hadn’t even received proper muggle education before Hogwarts, let alone studied Arithmancy or Astronomy.

The division wouldn’t just be based on performance. It would be labeled. Purebloods, Halfbloods, and Muggleborns—PB, HB, and MB—grouped and sorted for different sections accordingly. Some pretended not to care. Others looked terrified.

Sirius placed his scone back on the plate, finally meeting Burton and Cloyd’s gaze. “It was bound to happen. Hogwarts might offer education to all, but it was never built equal.”

Cloyd frowned. “Still, separating us like this? It’s just going to make things worse.”

Burton gave a lazy shrug. “Not for us. You’re a Prewett. I'm Flint. And Sirius here...” he smirked. “Well, he practically is the wizarding Britain”

A quiet pride curled at the edges of Sirius’s expression. He didn’t gloat, but he also didn’t deny it. Being a Black meant Slytherin had always been the only destination. But it still felt good—like a weight lifted, a relief from an invisible burden he hadn’t admitted he carried.

“I didn’t come here to be humbled,” Sirius said calmly, voice silken but firm. “Let them do their tests. I intend to be at the top of every list they make.”

Arlo gave an approving nod. “Good. The rest of us need someone to raise the curve.”

Across the room, uneasy glances were exchanged by a group of Muggleborn boys huddled at the far end of the table. Sirius noted them—two in ill-fitting robes, one already fumbling with a wand that sparked erratically. A half-blood from the Midlands muttered something under his breath, earning a half-smile from an older student nearby.

“They are in the six-bed dorm,” Cloyd said quietly, following Sirius’s gaze.

“The largest,” Burton added, “but most cramped. ‘Fair’ accommodation, I suppose.”

Sirius didn’t respond, but the flicker of distaste in his eyes said enough. He wouldn’t mock them—not yet—but he wouldn’t carry them either. This was Hogwarts. Every step forward was earned.

As the Great Hall cleared after breakfast, Prefects made quiet rounds, handing out a printed notice. The schedule was real, official, and signed with Headmaster Fortescue’s long looping hand.

Hogwarts Foundational Assessment - Year 1856

Date: September 5, 1856
Time: Morning Exams: 10:00 AM – 12:00 PM
Subjects: Herbology, Astronomy, History of World and Magic, Arithmancy

Evening Exams: 4:00 PM – 6:00 PM
Subjects: Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense and Offense

Instructions:
All first-year students must report to the Great Hall ten minutes prior to exam commencement. Each paper includes a language section with assigned marks. Points per subject:

Morning exams: 40 Points

Evening exams: 40 Points

Language and composition: 20 points

Stationery will be provided.

Sections will be posted the next day in the common room notice boards. 

As they filed out into the corridor, Sirius tucked the notice neatly into his robe.

“Feel like we’re being sorted all over again,” Cloyd muttered.

“No,” Sirius replied, tone cool. “The Hat judged our character. This will judge our mind. One is fate. The other—well, that’s mostly in our hands.”

And with that, the trio made their way toward their common room, heads high and steps measured, calm amidst the rising tide of nervous whispers.

As Sirius walked the castle corridors, his face remained the picture of calm—chin up, strides long and sure, his robes trailing behind with quiet dignity. But beneath the composed exterior, his thoughts twisted and turned like the staircases of Hogwarts themselves.

This was, objectively, a good exam. Sensible, even.

The castle opened its doors to anyone with a hint of magic in their blood—no matter how raw, wild, or unrefined they were. And with that open door came chaos: students who had never seen a quill, who squinted at parchment like it might explode, who didn't know to use a fork and knife at the same time. He’d watched one muggleborn boy on the first night eat roast turkey with his hands, then lick the grease off his fingers with loud, guttural pleasure. The boy hadn’t even noticed the stares.

Ravenclaws, of all people, had fared worse. The House of Knowledge now seated a handful of students who didn’t know Latin, didn’t know how to hold a wand properly, didn’t even speak English or French fluently.

It was less obvious in Slytherin—of course. The ambition that drew muggleborns and half-bloods to the house also made them mimic pureblood mannerisms with remarkable efficiency. Polished shoes. Eyes lowered when spoken to. A silent nod of deference when senior students passed. They adapted quickly, and Sirius had to admit, he respected that. But it didn’t change the fact that this—this whole system—felt like a quiet culling, wrapped in the language of “support” and “readiness.”

Because it wasn’t just about skill.

It was about blood.

The groups weren't just being labeled to form sections. They were being marked—PB, HB, MB. There was no veil of subtlety, no effort to mask the divide. A rare pureblood without education would be in the MB group, but Sirius knew—they all knew—that wouldn’t happen. The Board of Governors, every last one of them draped in velvet and pedigree, wouldn’t allow it. Not truly.

The school was ruled by tradition. Power sat with those born to it. Even his family, as mighty as the Blacks were, didn’t have a seat at the very top—yet. And Sirius? He was just a first-year. A promising name, yes, but not one the Headmaster or the Board would think twice about overruling.

Not yet.

He couldn’t change things from the outside. Not by whining about fairness or declaring the exams unjust. That was the Gryffindor way—loud, brave, ineffective. The Slytherin way was quieter. Strategic. It whispered behind closed doors, smiled at rivals while sharpening the dagger.

I’ll learn the rules, Sirius thought, jaw tightening slightly as he turned toward the Slytherin stairwell. And when I’ve mastered them, I’ll rewrite the book.

He passed a group of older students in the corridor—fifth-years, chatting about some Advanced Alchemy lesson—one of them gave him a brief nod. Recognition. Already.

It wasn’t power. Not yet. But it was the scent of it, and Sirius Rigel Black had a good nose for that sort of thing.

He would ace the exam. Not just to prove himself, but to ensure he was in the room when decisions were made. No one would change a thing for muggleborns or half-bloods out of charity. But perhaps... if someone clever enough stood high enough, they could change things out of design.

And until then? Let the school sort and stamp and label everyone as it pleases.

He’d wear whatever label they gave him—so long as it was etched in gold.

Couple of days later, the dungeons were buzzing.

Not with fear—at least, not openly—but with the restless energy of students trying to outrun uncertainty. Tables in the common rooms and study rooms had been rearranged, transfigured, and repurposed into study spaces. Textbooks were cracked open, quills scratching feverishly on parchment. Charts of star constellations floated midair, diagrams of potion ingredients rotated slowly above tables, and candlelight flickered over rolled-up timelines of magical history.

The test was tomorrow. And everyone knew it wasn’t just a test.

Older students had been assigned—or volunteered—to help first-years prepare. They hovered like hawks over groups of eager, squirming students, correcting quill grips, quizzing Arithmetic equations, and drilling astronomy charts. There was laughter, groaning, and a few quiet tears hidden in sleeves. It could almost have passed for a scene of unity.

Almost.

Sirius sat on a bench by the Slytherin fireplace, a thick sheaf of notes resting in his lap. He wasn't part of the tutoring circles, not officially. But his eyes scanned the room constantly. Watching. Measuring.

Humfrey Ogden, the fourth-year Slytherin representative, stood nearby with a few of the younger boys, including Cloyd. He was running through potion ingredients at a clipped, efficient pace.

"Snake fangs, powdered root of asphodel, crushed daisy root—Prewett, what’s the reaction if you add too much asphodel?"

Cloyd, unusually alert, shot back, "Temporary paralysis. Countered with mandrake essence or mild pepperup draught."

Ogden gave a sharp nod. "Good."

Burton was across the room, calmly decoding a star chart with the help of a girl from third year. The two seemed oddly in sync—Burton with his stiff posture and quiet intensity, she with an eye for precision.

But further across the hall, Sirius saw something else.

A group of muggleborns—two boys and three girls—sat awkwardly in a cluster near the back of the hall. Their textbooks were open, but none of the older students had approached them. One of the girls, a nervous one with frizzy hair, raised her hand tentatively toward a passing prefect. He smiled tightly and murmured something about “coming back later.”

He didn’t.

They were being left to fend for themselves.

No one said anything cruel. No one pointed and laughed. But the silence around them was loud, and the avoidance was deliberate.

“Why aren’t they helping them?” Sirius asked softly, glancing toward Felix Nott, who had taken the seat next to him.

Nott didn’t look up from his Arithmancy workbook. “Because there’s no point. They’ll be in the MB section. Doesn’t matter how well they score. Everyone knows it.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Even if they outperform half-bloods?”

Nott’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “They could get perfect scores and still end up in the third section. You think the Board would let muggleborns sit next to a Malfoy?”

He said it casually, like a simple truth, and turned a page.

Sirius said nothing, but inside, something shifted. He looked across the room again—one of the muggleborn boys had written something upside down in his notes. Another was practicing wand movements with his left hand because no one had corrected him.

They don’t even know they’ve already been sorted, Sirius thought grimly. Not by the Hat. But by the world.

Still, he didn’t get up.

Not yet.

Because he knew—this wasn’t the moment for noble gestures. This was the moment for taking stock, for learning the terrain. He wasn’t here to rescue anyone.

He was here to win.

“Care to quiz me on Charms?” he asked Nott instead, breaking the silence.

Nott arched a brow. “A Black asking for help?”

“I’m asking for speed,” Sirius said coolly, flipping open his notes. “I don’t have all night.”

Across the room, one of the muggleborn girls silently switched from her battered old book to copying notes from the boy next to her. Her handwriting was careful. Her eyes burned with determination.

They would learn soon enough.

That magic was only half the battle.

The morning of the exam dawned grey and cool, the sky overcast as if Hogwarts itself had lowered a veil of solemnity over the castle. Rain tapped softly against the dungeon windows, steady as a heartbeat.

Sirius Rigel Black rose early, long before the chime of the enchanted alarm tones. Kint had left out a set of perfectly pressed black robes with silver-threaded cuffs and polished boots. A bowl of cinnamon biscuits waited beside a pot of hot cocoa on the side table. Sirius ate slowly, dressed precisely, and took one last look in the mirror above his fireplace. His expression was calm. His stomach was not.

By the time the rest of Slytherin House stirred, he was already in the common room, reviewing last-minute notes with Cloyd and Burton.

“I’ve revised Arithmancy twice. If they throw numerological paradoxes at us this early, I swear I’ll scream,” Cloyd muttered, chewing the end of his quill.

“You’ll scream quietly,” Burton said. “Slytherins don’t make scenes.”

Sirius gave a dry smile. “Except in the courtroom or on the battlefield.”

Breakfast was a quiet affair, but food was still served till 9 AM. Students sat in clusters, whispering, eating, or staring blankly at their plates. The tension was thick, like a potion ready to boil over.

Sirius noticed how some of the muggleborn students barely touched their food. One boy kept glancing nervously at the professors seated at the dais, as though awaiting judgment. Others, more cheerful or more naïve, chatted amongst themselves, unaware of what awaited them by the end of the day.

At precisely 9:45, Professor Hereswith Marchbanks—one of the most senior members of the faculty and Head of Examinations at hogwarts—opened the doors of the great hall again. The long tables in the Great Hall had been removed and exchanged with neat rows of single person exam desks. 

“First years, please take your assigned seats. Exam parchments are color-coded and enchanted with your names. Wands in plain sight on your table. Quills down until instructed. You may bring a water flask.”

The Great Hall shimmered slightly as the ceiling adjusted, cloudy skies giving way to a cool blue ambiance. Rows of desks—elegant but austere—were now covered with charmed parchment. Sirius found his name without trouble and took his seat behind Cloyd, who looked pale but determined.

At exactly ten o’clock, Marchbanks waved her wand and the first portion of the exam began.

Morning Exams: Herbology, Astronomy, History of World & Magic, Arithmancy

It was brutal—but not unfair. The first section on Herbology required students to identify illustrated magical plants and explain basic uses. Astronomy followed with constellation mapping and a question about lunar phases affecting magical creature behavior. The History section was long and essay-based, much to the horror of those unfamiliar with writing more than a few sentences. Arithmancy—the real monster—had numerical pattern analysis and a single logic puzzle that left half the hall staring in despair.

Sirius worked methodically, his handwriting neat, answers precise. Cloyd sweated through the logic puzzle, muttering numbers under his breath. Burton finished the entire section with five minutes to spare and spent the rest of the time checking each answer like a soldier inspecting his weapons.

And then—lunch.

The students staggered out like they'd just returned from battle. Some, like Nott and Malfoy, seemed to glide out, untouched by anxiety. Others were pale, whispering to each other in frantic tones. Sirius passed a Hufflepuff muggleborn girl in the corridor, crying quietly behind a pillar. No one stopped.

Afternoon Exams: Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense & Offense

The Great Hall, now dimmed with the late afternoon light filtering through high windows, still buzzed faintly with the static tension of nerves. Students filed in once more, moving slower this time, their morning energy dulled by fatigue and growing dread.

At precisely 4 PM, the second stack of exam parchments materialized on each desk, subject names flashing briefly across the top: Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense & Offense.

The exam was entirely theory-based—no wandwork, no incantations—just ink, logic, and prior learning.

Sirius exhaled slowly, steadying his nerves, and set to work.

Charms tested incantation structure, spell mechanics, wand movement theory, and magical safety protocol. Questions asked students to identify the difference between a Lumos and a Lumos Maxima, and explain why improper pronunciation of Alohomora could cause an unintended magical backlash. Sirius answered with careful detail, including two footnotes referencing spellwork journals he had read last summer.

Transfiguration focused heavily on magical laws and limitations: Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration, material-to-material transference ratios, and transformation consequences. Where some scratched their heads over the difference between animate and inanimate transfiguration boundaries, Sirius breezed through, recalling pages of handwritten notes from his family's library and information drilled in him by his tutors.

Potions was less abstract—more about potion composition, ingredient interaction, and sequence importance. Diagrams showed cauldrons mid-brew and students were expected to identify what had gone wrong based on steam color, froth consistency, or temperature notes. Sirius found it almost leisurely. Years of helping Phineas catalogue dried belladonna and grind bezoars had paid off.

Defense and Offense, though its name suggested action, was all theory—structured like a strategy paper. There were essays on curse categories, classifications of magical threats, wandless defense hypotheticals, and an ethics section on acceptable magical retaliation. It was dense, abstract, and—according to Sirius—more about demonstrating clarity of thought than actual magical aptitude.

Around him, students scratched quills furiously or stared blankly at their parchments. A few muggleborns openly struggled, clearly not used to long-form essay answers or technical vocabulary. Even some half-bloods stumbled. Sirius glanced up once to see a Gryffindor boy biting his lip, blinking back tears. Across the hall, Professor Marchbanks stood like a statue, expression unreadable.

By the final parchment, Sirius’s hand was cramping, and ink flecked his fingers—but he was confident. Not arrogant, not entirely. But confident.

He had been trained for this. Taught to write with precision. To analyze spells. To memorize theory. This wasn’t new—it was simply a new arena for things he had studied at home for years.

Burton finished with ten minutes to spare and folded his parchment with the casual grace of someone who knew he had performed well. Cloyd, determined and a bit breathless, scribbled his final sentence just as the clocks chimed six.

When the exams officially ended, the hall fell into a drained hush. Marchbanks dismissed them with a flick of her wand, and Sirius, Cloyd, and Burton walked out together, boots echoing against the stone.

“Defense was wordy,” Cloyd said, rubbing his neck. “But I think I managed.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sirius said, adjusting his sleeves. “You always do better under pressure.”

“I liked Potions,” Burton said casually. “Straightforward. I don't trust Transfiguration. Too many exceptions.”

Sirius gave a small laugh but said nothing more.

The tension had drained from his body, but something else remained—anticipation. Tomorrow, the results will go up. The divisions would be made.

And for all his knowledge, his hours of study, his name, and his pedigree—he still felt like he was walking a tightrope, and the wind was just beginning to blow.

The hearth in the Hogwarts staff room glowed softly, shadows licking the walls as the long oak table groaned beneath the weight of parchment stacks, steaming teapots, and floating quills. It was well past curfew, and yet every chair around the table was occupied.

This was the night of judgment.

Deputy Headmistress Eupraxia Mole sat at the head, her posture straight and expression unreadable. Her dark green robes shimmered faintly in the firelight, and though she had long since relinquished her post as a Magical Theory professor, no one at the table doubted she was the most discerning magical intellect among them. She was here to listen, but she would decide.

At her right, Professor Marchbanks cleared her throat, conjuring a large chart that hovered over the table, inked neatly with scores and categories. “Examinations concluded at six o’clock. All eight core subjects have been evaluated. Language and Composition scores are averaged into each subject score. We now discuss placement for the academic terms.”

Professor Beatrix Bulstrode, one of the faculty of Potions—her greying hair coiled like a serpent at her nape—flicked through the top parchment. “It’s a solid year for purebloods. Strong showings in Defense, Transfiguration, and Potions. Expected, of course.”

Professor Merrythought, younger and sharper in disposition, raised an eyebrow. “Some of the half-bloods did better than you might think, Beatrix. Especially in Astronomy and Arithmancy. Two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw placed within the top fifteen overall.”

Professor Redmund Thornley, head of Transfiguration, let out a scoff. “Arithmancy, Astronomy, and History are non-magical disciplines. Useful, yes, but not indicative of magical strength. They require discipline, not magical instinct.”

Merrythought rolled her eyes. “You'd think discipline would count for something.”

Near the end of the table, Professor Harrion Slughorn—on sabbatical from his tenure at Beauxbatons and now observing as a guest lecturer—was scribbling meticulous notes. He had a strong nose, a courtly manner, and an eye for patterns in both names and behavior.

“Interesting, though,” he murmured, eyes glinting. “Many of the top scores, even in theory, belong to students tutored before Hogwarts—especially those with private instructors. That does tend to skew expectations, doesn’t it?”

Professor Viridis, the Charms Mistress, nodded. “Indeed. Home tutoring varies wildly. It’s part of why we reevaluate in the fourth year, when they’ve had time under our curriculum. The re-sorting of sections then is based entirely on merit and declared subjects.”

Mole raised a hand, and the murmuring settled.

“Continue,” she said softly.

Marchbanks conjured five glowing banners into the air, each labeled with one of the upcoming academic sections for the year.

First Year Academic Placement (1856 Batch):

Total Students: 152

60 Pureblood

70 Half-Blood

24 Muggleborn

Section 1PA – Pureblood A (30 students)

→ 10 Slytherin – 8 Ravenclaw – 6 Hufflepuff – 6 Gryffindor

Section 1PB – Pureblood B (30 students)

→ 9 Slytherin – 8 Ravenclaw – 6 Hufflepuff – 7 Gryffindor

Section 1HC – Half-Blood C (35 students)

→ 6 Slytherin – 10 Ravenclaw – 10 Hufflepuff – 9 Gryffindor

Section 1HD – Half-Blood D (35 students)

→ 6 Slytherin – 9 Ravenclaw – 11 Hufflepuff – 9 Gryffindor

Section 1ME – Muggleborn E (24 students)

→ 5 Slytherin – 6 Ravenclaw – 7 Hufflepuff – 6 Gryffindor

Professor Viridis gestured lazily toward the ME column. “Twenty-four muggleborns. Even with the few outliers, the majority scored lowest in Charms, Defense, Transfiguration, and Potions.”

Beatrix Bulstrode nodded sharply. “Lack of magical heritage and access to basic education. They’ll be placed together. Best to tailor the curriculum to their level as usual.”

Merrythought raised her voice a fraction. “You're assuming they can’t catch up.”

“You're assuming they can,” Thornley muttered.

Slughorn spoke again, softly but clearly. “Well, it’s not a question of potential, is it? Only preparedness. That’s what these first-year divisions are always meant to measure.”

“Exactly,” Marchbanks said with finality. “By fourth year, they’ll be re-sorted based on actual performance and declared subjects. OWL eligibility requires a minimum of three magical subjects and two non-magical ones. We’re laying the foundation now—one that allows each student to reach the bar.”

Professor Mole stood at last, folding her arms.

“We all know the Board prefers clean divisions,” she said. “But that does not mean we make our decisions purely on blood. Test results support the groupings—barely, but enough. No muggleborn qualified for a pureblood section. Only three might have qualified for half-blood, and even they are missing key conceptual understanding. Language especially.”

She looked around the room, eyes lingering on each professor.

“We continue this policy. First-year sections are to be fixed. But by third-year’s end, every student will have the opportunity to move based on merit alone. That is non-negotiable. If any student earns it, they will rise. Do we understand?”

Murmured affirmations echoed across the room.

Marchbanks gave a crisp nod. “Then I’ll finalize the rosters.”

Mole turned and swept out of the staff room, her cloak trailing behind her, leaving the fire to flicker alone in the silence.

And just like that, another year’s quiet war had begun.

Chapter Text

The next morning was thick with tension—though hidden behind smiles, laughter, and the general bustle of students making their way to breakfast. Whispers and parchment notes passed like wildfire through the tables of every house. Placement results had been posted in each common room, and the implications were slowly setting in.

At the Slytherin table, Sirius sat with his usual quiet confidence, flanked by Burton Flint and Cloyd Prewett. Their section—1PA—was the most elite, composed solely of purebloods. They exchanged nods with Felix Nott and the others in their cohort. The unspoken affirmation in their eyes said enough: We’ve made it .

“I suppose it’s not a surprise,” Burton muttered between bites of toast. “But it’s still a relief, innit? Being a Black didn’t exactly guarantee anything... though I’d wager it helped.”

Sirius gave a wry smile. “If it hadn’t, I’d have hexed the whole staff by now.”

Cloyd chuckled. “I’d pay to see that. Though... let’s be honest, you didn’t even need to try. You probably aced those exams in your sleep.”

Around them, more Slytherin first-years were processing the results. The divide had become crystal clear overnight. Those in 1A and 1B sat taller, while those in 1C and 1D—a mix of half-bloods—were quieter, more watchful. The ones placed in 1E, the muggleborn section, were almost absent from the morning chatter altogether. A few sat in pairs, eyes cast downward as they picked at their food. They had not yet realized that no amount of effort could break them into the upper sections—not under the current system.

In Ravenclaw, a similar atmosphere prevailed. The 1PA and 1PB students held their heads high. The half-bloods in 1HC and 1HD tried to act indifferent, but whispers buzzed around them.

“I heard Acantha Greystone nearly burst into tears,” a third-year Ravenclaw whispered to her friend. “She thought she had a shot at 1PA.”

“She’s half-blood, isn't she?” the friend replied matter-of-factly. “No chance. Doesn’t matter how smart she is.”

Over at the Hufflepuff table, the atmosphere was more muted. The house prided itself on unity, but even that was being tested. Students in 1HC and 1HD shared nervous looks, while those in 1ME were clearly feeling the divide. The seven muggleborns had been lumped together with barely a glance at their individual performance.

Gryffindor, for its part, had the most volatile response. A few students were openly angry—especially among the half-bloods who had done well on paper but were still placed in the second-tier sections. Others accepted it with a shrug, but even they couldn't help but notice the way seniors started treating students differently.

By the time classes began that day, the air was thick with observation. Upper-years from each house had suddenly taken a renewed interest in the first-years. In Slytherin, fifth-year Christabell Yaxley whispered to a friend as she passed the 1PA group:

“Greengrass, Black, Malfoy, Flint, Nott, Fawley, Prewett, Carrow, Rosier and Shafiq... Slytherin’s finest, I daresay.”

Her friend smirked. “And the rest?”

“Background noise.”

Up in the Astronomy Tower, two Ravenclaw prefects discussed the outcome with some irritation.

“We had half-bloods who scored better than the purebloods from other houses. Still didn’t get placed above them.”

“It’s not about fairness,” one of them said darkly. “It never was. It’s about perception. Blood and name.”

Back in Slytherin, Sirius kept his expression carefully neutral as he observed the effects. He didn’t revel in the division, but he also wasn’t naive enough to deny its use.

“You alright?” Burton asked, nudging him.

“I’m fine,” Sirius replied, voice calm. “It’s just... funny. Everyone knew the game was rigged. But now that it’s official, they’re still surprised.”

“That’s the system, mate,” Cloyd added. “We didn’t make the rules, we just... survive them.”

Sirius looked around at the tables. At the way some students stood taller, while others shrank back. He saw power realigning itself—quietly, efficiently.

Sirius Black had scarcely stepped out of breakfast the next monday when he found himself being swept into the whirlwind of his new academic life. His schedule, meticulously laid out in deep green ink, was packed to the brim. Fourteen subjects a week. Nine core subjects. Five electives. Even among the pureblood elite, few had taken on the maximum course load that was allowed. Even Burton and Cloyd had more free time than him. 

But Sirius wasn’t most students.

He tucked the parchment into his satchel and smirked to himself. “Light work.”

The first few weeks passed like the turning of pages in a well-thumbed book—quickly, and with just enough time to do the homework. Sirius settled into the rhythm of life at Hogwarts with surprising ease. Despite the heavy schedule he had willingly taken on, he felt more invigorated than exhausted.

His mornings began early, sometimes before sunrise, when he would exercise for an hour and practice martial magic to keep up with it. Breakfast in the Great Hall was a thunderous affair, full of chatter and clinking silverware, but Sirius often kept a book propped against his pumpkin juice as he read between bites of cinnamon biscuits to prepare for classes. The familiar taste always made him think of home.

Charms was the first core subject of his week every monday, and it often felt like an anchor to more familiar waters. Professor Vass, pale and ponderous, taught as if time didn’t exist—a fitting quality for a charms master. His voice droned like a slow-moving spell, but his subject matter was layered and nuanced if one knew where to look. On the second Monday, when he asked about the strategic consequences of the Cheering charms, Sirius answered without hesitation. His response, referencing not only the category itself but also its divisions and a few examples, earned him a rare smile and an approving nod from the professor.

It was a small moment. But in Hogwarts, small moments mattered.

In Astronomy, he found himself partnered with Laviana Greengrass, whose icy demeanor thawed slightly when Sirius drew a perfect model of the Eastern Constellation arc from memory. They started slowly building an alliance to dominate selection of house representatives at the end of month with the beginning of this partnership. 

Charms and Transfiguration moved at a blistering pace, even without practical work in the first term, but Sirius handled the theory with ease. Essays on magical inversion, wand theory, and channeling efficiency became opportunities to outshine—not just to impress his professors, but to assert quietly that he belonged. 

He wasn’t the only one who stood out. Cloyd Prewett had a knack for pattern recognition in Arithmancy, and Burton Flint was shockingly competent at Herbology despite loudly claiming he found plants dull. Cassian Rosier and Darius Malfoy, two other boys also from Section 1PA, were shrewd and calculating, always whispering commentary behind their textbooks. But Sirius didn’t mind their presence. If anything, the subtle rivalry spurred him onward.

But it was the electives that stirred something more than ambition. students from first to third year could start electives at the beginning of any year as they only held three years worth of study for OWLs, so it was usually a mix of all houses and first to third year in those classes, as some students needed more time to settle in hogwarts and did not choose any electives in their first year, sirius was one of the rare one with electives. Even Burton and Cloyd each just had two electives, one of them being Estate and business management, which was kind of compulsory for heirs. 

Ancient Runes, held in a sunlit tower room near the Astronomy wing, became a sanctuary of sorts. With only thirty students—first through third years—the room felt quiet and curious rather than competitive. The circular tables were carved with old languages and tinged with faint traces of magic. Professor Corwin Ellery, tall and constantly in motion, made runes feel like a game of secrets. He flung chalk like darts, peppered students with puzzles, and laughed heartily when stumped.

Sirius often sat beside a Ravenclaw second-year named Cyra Fleet, who had a perpetual ink smudge on her cheek and a habit of humming while translating.

“You’ve read the Karanthian Lexicon ?” she asked after he breezed through a complicated cluster of elemental runes.

Sirius nodded without looking up. “Last spring. Good bedtime reading.”

Cyra grinned. “You’re alright, Black. Just don’t beat me too often.”

That had surprised him. She didn’t care that he was a Black. Or a Slytherin. She cared about the text, and the puzzle, and whether or not he could keep up.

It was refreshing.

In Music and Composition, Sirius met Francis Bell, a Hufflepuff who played the glass harp with such haunting clarity that even the enchanted instruments seemed to quiet in awe. Francis was soft-spoken, but when he spoke of harmonics and tempo spells, his eyes lit up like wandlight.

Then there was Leta Durham, a third-year Gryffindor in Literature and Poetry, who wrote verse faster than most people breathed. Her poems were sharp and brutal and beautiful, all at once. She muttered once during class, “Don’t know why more people don’t take this. This is the best part of Hogwarts.”

Sirius had only nodded, caught in the rhythm of his own quill as he penned a reflection on The Song of the Wandering Queen. Under candlelight, with ink smudges on his sleeves and ideas swirling like wind, he had felt something unfamiliar and exhilarating.

He wasn’t just learning. He was becoming.

Even Language Studies, the most crowded of his electives, crackled with energy. The class met thrice weekly in a high-ceilinged room full of floating translation banners and enchanted chalkboards that switched scripts mid-sentence. It was chaos—glorious, vibrating chaos—and Sirius found himself relishing every second.

Professor Renwick was a stout wizard with an unruly beard and the energy of three men. On the first day, he marched into the room with an actual sword strapped across his robes—rumored to be enchanted with a Babel Tongue hex—and bellowed, “Words are power! And in this class, you will learn to wield them like blades!”

“Merlin,” Sirius whispered to Cyra Fleet, who had slipped in from Runes. “Are we dueling or conjugating verbs?”

“Hopefully both,” she muttered back, eyes wide.

By the end of the first week, they’d touched on Gobbledegook, Troll Sign, Ancient Western Isles Chant, and even snippets of Undercommon—a particularly guttural dialect spoken by subterranean fae. When Sirius managed to string together a crude but grammatically correct insult in Troll Sign, Professor Renwick clapped so hard that dust flew from the ceiling beams.

“You’ll make a fine translator or a terrible diplomat, Black!”

The students roared with laughter. Sirius only bowed.

Then there was Art, held in a sunlit studio that smelled of beeswax, lavender, and faintly of burnt parchment. The room was alive—literally. Paintings blinked from the walls, unfinished sculptures whispered ideas to passing students, and parchment that disliked your brush strokes would crumple itself in protest.

Sirius loved every inch of it.

He spent one afternoon trying to replicate a phoenix’s rising flight through magically animated color. His first attempt exploded into a mushroom cloud of orange, startling three first-years and causing Professor Beasley to cheer, “Now that’s artistic courage!”

Even when a splatter spell went rogue and covered Francis Bell’s shoes in shimmering purple slime, the laughter was warm, unjudging.

“Honestly, Black,” Francis sighed dramatically as he wiped glitter from his trousers, “if I wanted to swim in stardust, I’d have joined the Astronomy Club.”

“You’re welcome,” Sirius said with a grin. “That shade brings out your eyes.”

The classes blurred into one another over the next two weeks—each one chipping away at Sirius’s old sense of limits. Estate and business Management was unexpectedly practical and amusing, especially when Professor Bonham made them negotiate over dividing fictional galleons in a simulated shop dispute.

“Your scenario,” she said one Thursday, “is this: you run a wand-selling business. Your partner wants to add singing charms to the handles. You hate music. Go.”

“Clearly,” Sirius said smoothly to his Hufflepuff partner, “I’ll be buying you out.”

At night, after classes and dinner, the Slytherin common room buzzed with its usual cocktail of firelight and intrigue. Cloyd Prewett, always nosy, once caught Sirius reorganizing his thick study planner.

“You’re mad, you know. You won’t have time to breathe.”

Sirius, lounging with a quill behind one ear, replied without missing a beat. “I’ll breathe when I’m brilliant.”

Burton, half-asleep on the couch with a book on potion theory draped over his face, raised a single hand. “Then I hope you enjoy gasping through O.W.L.s.”

But there was affection in it now. Respect. Even the older Slytherins had begun to nod to Sirius in the halls.

At the end of each evening, just before sleep, Sirius reached for his most treasured magical object: a small black diary, twinned with another, locked to his magical signature. Phineas's diary. The boy was still at home, not yet of age for Hogwarts, but they wrote to each other daily in enchanted ink that shimmered faintly when fresh.

Wednesday Evening, Sep. 17th

Phineas:
Did you really tell your professor you’d “buy him out” in class? Mother would have fainted.
Also, Ella keeps stealing my chess pieces and says I need to “prepare for brutality.” What does that mean??

Sirius:
Yes. And no one fainted. They laughed. Also, Ella’s right. Hogwarts isn’t brutal… unless you’re unprepared.
Start reading Hogwarts: A Lawful History. I’ll quiz you next week.
Also—don’t let her use your rook. Hide the rook. Trust me.

Phineas:
I’ll put it in my sock drawer.

Sirius:
Too obvious. Go with the biscuit tin.

Their exchanges were a mix of brotherly ribbing and quiet mentorship. Sirius took it seriously. He didn’t want Phineas walking into Hogwarts wide-eyed and underprepared like some of the muggleborns had. Life wasn’t fair, and Hogwarts made sure you knew that fast.

Sometimes, Sirius even wrote home the old-fashioned way—on parchment with black family wax seals, delivered by Opal, his owl.

Sep. 15th
Dearest Mother,
Classes are vigorous and excellent. I’ve joined all five electives I chose previously, all of which I find stimulating in different ways. Professor Housewick reminds me a bit of Grandfather—if Grandfather were louder and wielded languages like a battleaxe.
The castle is far larger than I imagined. I’ve made acquaintances in every house. Do not worry; I remain sensible and discerning.
Please give my regards to Father and Aunt Aliya.
Yours,
Sirius

His mother’s reply had come two days later, neatly folded and crisp.

Sirius,
Five electives? Ambitious. Do not burn yourself out. Your father is pleased to hear of your confidence and progress. Aunt Aliya sends a tart recipe. Kint has it.
Do not neglect your posture. Or your penmanship.
With pride,
Mother

Sirius read it with a faint smile. She’d meant well—even if she hadn’t said she missed him. He wasn’t sure she did . But he didn’t mind. He was learning what it meant to build something for himself now.

By the end of the third week, Sirius no longer needed to read the carved plaque on his dorm door to know he belonged here. His schedule was packed, his ink was constantly running dry, his sleep was fleeting.

But his mind? Wide awake.

And Hogwarts, in all its complexity and contradiction, was beginning to feel like his. 

The summons came not by owl or prefect, but in the oldest Slytherin tradition: quiet words, passed like contraband through the common room.

“South study room. Half seven. Don’t be late.”

No explanation, no authority. Just the kind of message you obey without asking why.

When Sirius arrived, the air was thick with anticipation—and torch smoke. The study room had been rearranged. All the desks were pushed back, forming a wide open floor, and upper-year students lounged like sphinxes in the shadows. Some on desks, some cross-legged on windowsills, all of them watching.

At the center stood two students, unmistakably in charge.

Markus Flintstone—broad-shouldered, with a slow smile that always seemed one step from mockery—and Gemina Markeley, sharp and cold-eyed, her prefect badge glinting like a threat. They weren’t merely students. They were institutions. Their presence didn’t demand silence—it created it.

Sirius folded his arms and leaned against the wall near Burton and Cloyd, heart thudding with interest he tried to pretend wasn’t there.

Markus  spoke first, voice slow and amused. “Election week,” he said, stretching the syllables. “It’s not just about choosing someone to carry your parchments or kiss up to the Head of House.”

The third-years chuckled.

“It’s about learning the game. How fast you read the room. How deep you see.”

Seraphina’s voice cut in, crisp and honed. “Each of you will vote. Two names: one boy, one girl. Top two of each become your Class Representatives. The next two? Deputies. Everyone else—better luck next year.”

Sirius glanced around. Most of the first-years stood stiff, trying not to blink. Cierra Fawley was already smiling. Laviana Greengrass looked like she’d been waiting for this moment since the Sorting Hat was sewn.

“Where does this happen?” Burton asked, eyes narrowing.

Seraphina’s lips curved into something colder than a smile. “The Hollow.”

A collective shiver passed through the room.

“The Arena,” Markus  clarified. “It sits beneath the common room. Seats around two thousand. All Slytherins attend. Every year. Every vote.”

Sirius straightened slightly. So that wasn’t a myth.

He’d heard the whispers from second-years—about a massive underground hall with water trickling down obsidian walls, torchlight that flickered in time with speakers’ voices, and ancient charms that remembered every name spoken within it.

“It’s tradition,” Markus  continued. “Centuries old. Goes back to 1223, when Salazar’s blood descendants used it to train orators. Dueling with words instead of wands. Now, every year, we remember: power speaks first.”

A pause.

“Campaign how you want,” Gemina added. “Just don’t be dull. Don’t waste our time.”

By the next morning, the Slytherin common room had transformed into a miniature parliament—if Parliament were run by overcaffeinated eleven-year-olds with delusions of grandeur and a flair for hexed stationery.

Deals were whispered over toast. Alliances were forged during Herbology revision. And Cloyd Prewett had somehow declared himself Campaign Manager-in-Chief of one Sirius Rigel Black.

“You’re clever,” Cloyd announced, dragging Sirius by the sleeve away from his untouched breakfast. “You’re better read than most professors, probably. But you never sell it.”

“I’m not a fruit stall,” Sirius muttered, voice muffled by a bite of marmalade toast.

“You are now,” Burton declared triumphantly, slapping a badge on Sirius’s chest with all the flourish of a coronation.

The badge read:
“BLACK. Cleverer Than You.”

Sirius blinked. “Is this… whispering?”

From somewhere under his collar came a soft, repetitive hiss:

“Vote Black… Vote Black…”

“It’s got a Soundless Whisper Charm,” Cloyd said, beaming. “Very advanced magic. Took me a whole hour.”

“It sounds like I’m being stalked by a ghost with asthma.”

“Exactly,” said Burton. “Memorable.”

Meanwhile, the rival camps were taking shape like storm fronts.

Darius Malfoy operated with chilly elegance, walking the halls like he was already elected to something more important than Class Representative—Minister, perhaps. He rarely spoke, just offered cool, appraising nods and the occasional perfect, disdainful smirk. His robes were pressed. His quills were monogrammed.

Felix Nott, on the other hand, was louder and leaner, slinking from group to group like a well-dressed fox. He made offhand jokes about Sirius’s whispering badge (“Clever idea… if your campaign is trying to haunt people”), and smirked when first-years laughed a little too loud to impress him.

“We’re running against powdered wigs,” Sirius muttered one evening as Nott swanned past again.

“You’re not running,” Laviana Greengrass said with a sigh, appearing behind him like a ghost armed with a clipboard. “You’re being pushed because of your name. At least act like it.”

She handed him a folded parchment. “Talking points. Bullet Listed. Don’t improvise.”

“Is this alphabetical?”

“Yes. I know who I’m working with.”

Sirius blinked. “You’re helping me?”

“I’m helping us,” Laviana replied crisply. “Fawley’s already bribed half the half-bloods with licorice wands.”

While Sirius and Laviana strategized like awkward aristocrats learning to waltz, Cloyd was quietly building a small empire. He approached all the five muggleborns in their year—Henry Pilch, Wesley Moore, Mary Owens, Angelica Montgomery, and Marianna Green—with a deal so understated, it didn’t even feel like one.

“I’ve noticed,” Cloyd said casually, “some of the reading materials are insufferably dense. I'm starting a study circle. Just a few of us. Discussion-based, inclusive. Every voice counts.”

The muggleborns, still finding their footing in the stormy waters of Hogwarts tradition, blinked. “You mean… like a tutoring group?”

“No, no,” Cloyd said, grinning. “You tutor me. I talk too much. It’ll be great.”

He didn’t mention Sirius’s name at all. Not once. But the next day, all five wore little green serpent pins—unofficial tokens of Sirius’s team, hand-charmed by Burton to warm slightly when touched.

“Is that a bribe?” Sirius asked suspiciously.

“It’s solidarity,” Cloyd said. “With mild temperature control.”

The truth was, Sirius hadn’t meant to care. Not really. His instinct was to smirk, stand just to see what would happen, maybe shake things up.

To Sirius’s mild horror, Cloyd and Burton had become… too enthusiastic.

Burton’s new campaign poster was six feet tall and enchanted to breathe green smoke in the shape of a serpent that looped the words:

“BLACK: SAY IT LIKE A SPELL.”

It mostly coughed and sneezed glitter. Ezra Brown got a mild case of spark-lung from walking past it.

Meanwhile, Fawley’s team had gone the confectionery route—handing out sweet rolls in green foil with “Vote Cierra” spelled in sugar letters. Morag Shafiq even offered to hex the rolls with a Laughing Draught “just for fun.”

“She’s weaponizing baked goods,” Laviana said darkly.

“I respect it,” Sirius admitted.

Back in Team Greengrass, things were run like a Ministry department. Laviana conducted practice speeches in empty classrooms. Hilda Avery reviewed eye contact angles. Ethel Goyle took names of anyone who sneered at Laviana and added them to something she called The Observation List.

“Which is not a hit list,” Ethel clarified. “We’re just noticing them.”

But the more he watched the dynamics—the alliances, the quiet strategy, the raw ambition—the more intrigued he became. There was something… addictive about it. The thrill of maneuvering. The taste of legacy on the tongue.

And if he was honest with himself, the stage sounded fun.

They all think politics is about rules, he thought. But it’s just theatre with stakes.

Each evening, Sirius scribbled a few lines in the enchanted diary he shared with Phineas.

Sirius: “Never run for office. Unless you’ve got a Flint and a Prewett to make a spectacle for you.” 

Phineas: “Do I need one too?” 

Sirius: “You will. Practice speeches. Practice smirking.”

Phineas responded with lopsided doodles and half-witty comebacks. Sirius looked forward to those moments.

He also wrote home twice that week—once to Mother and once to Augie.

To Mother:
I’m standing for class rep, mostly because everyone expects me to. I suppose if I must carry the name, I might as well make it sharp.

Classes go well. History drags, but I’ve taken to Art like a mermaid to water. Don’t laugh.

To Augie:
I miss your bread. No, your bread, not the school’s. Also, tell Kint he’s not off the hook. I saw a boy with a crooked stitch on his robe and thought of your scolding.

Oh, and I might be running for something. Apparently being loud is half the work. The rest is looking unimpressed.

As the vote neared, the atmosphere in the common room turned electric. Sideways glances sharpened. People clumped tighter in their alliances.

Laviana breezed past Sirius one night on her way to the dorms. “We’re going to win,” she said coolly.

He grinned. “You say that like it’s a surprise.”

She looked at him with a raised brow. “I don’t like surprises.”

Neither did he—but he was learning to be one.

Chapter Text

They called it The Hollow .

Not in jest, not whispered by bored third-years with too much time and not enough supervision. No— The Hollow was spoken of like a secret best not spoken at all. In tones of reverence. With a hush reserved for ancient spells, near-forbidden rites, and the sort of stories passed down in locked parlors and blood-stained lineages.

Sirius Black had assumed it was just another Slytherin myth. A house that reveled in myth-making, after all. There were plenty of them—enchanted labyrinths under the lake, ghostly snakes in the pipes, a lost locket with a whispering curse, and of course, the vague but ominous legend of “the thing that still swims below.”

But as the floor beneath the Slytherin common room began to rumble—stone grating against stone, furniture shuddering—he realized something.

Some myths bite back.

He looked up sharply from where he was seated near the fire. Across the room, Laviana Greengrass stood with an unreadable expression on her face, one hand calmly brushing a wrinkle from her robes. Cloyd was already on his feet, practically vibrating with glee.

"It's happening," he hissed. "The Hollow's opening!"

Burton, not to be outdone, grabbed Sirius by the arm. "Come on, come on! You’re not going to want to miss the entrance."

Sirius barely had time to grab his wand before the far side of the common room split open—literally. A panel in the wall behind the cold portrait of a nameless, hollow-eyed Slytherin ancestor began to groan open. The portrait moved not with hinges, but with silent, sentient awareness, bowing forward like it was granting passage. Beyond it, a spiraling staircase of slick, dark stone wound downward into darkness.

The air changed.

Older students, some of them already in their formal House robes, had begun gathering. Fourth-years nudged third-years aside. Second-years stood with stretched necks, whispering in awe.

The stairwell spiraled tighter than he expected—so narrow they had to walk single file. Green torches lit the descent, flickering like they were being breathed on by some unseen beast. Every few steps, a new carving appeared on the walls: snakes entwining names, serpents curled around mottos, Latin scripts that shimmered and shifted when looked at directly.

Sirius paused by one and felt a chill run down his spine. It didn’t say anything ominous—just three names, and beneath them: "Failed. Forgotten. Forever."

He stepped away quickly.

“Cheerful little tradition,” he muttered.

There was a weight to the way they descended. The first-years, at least, walked with bated breath and wide eyes. Cloyd Prewett looked like he’d eaten a box of fireworks and was waiting for the first spark. Burton Flint kept craning his neck to see around each curve, muttering, “Merlin’s bones, this place is massive …”

The second-years, trailing behind them, wore mild smirks. The third-years exchanged lazy bets on the candidates. The fourth-years and above didn’t speak at all. They walked like nobles returning to their court.

Etched along the walls of the winding stair were names—thousands of them. Names of past representatives, both elected and disgraced. In between, Latin mottoes and coiled serpents gleamed with ancient enchantments. Some names shimmered with emerald luster. Others were scorched black.

"Are those… burn marks?" Henry Pilch whispered.

"Those are the names of candidates who disgraced the House,” Burton whispered back reverently. “Like running crying to a professor, or—” he lowered his voice dramatically, “—trying to appeal a vote.”

“Appeal?” Fawley repeated. “There are rules?”

Cloyd snorted. “This is Slytherin. There are traditions, not rules.”

The Hollow opened like a heartbeat.

They emerged into a cavern so vast it felt impossible. The air was damp with lakewater and magic. It was not a hall—it was an arena. A sunken, circular pit surrounded by steep rows of stone benches rising up like a great amphitheatre. The lowest level was the “floor”—smooth, ink-dark stone with a great etched serpent that spanned the diameter, its eyes glowing faintly green.

At full capacity, it could house a thousand.

Tonight, it held just under four hundred—all of Slytherin House.

But the way the torches blazed, the way the banners unfurled themselves overhead, the way the wind whispered through the carved stone seats—it felt as if the eyes of every Slytherin who had ever lived were watching.

Sirius swallowed. “Did they really build this just for school elections?”

“Politics and power,” Laviana corrected him. “The founders knew it was the same thing.”

“They’re not wrong,” Sirius admitted. “Still dramatic.”

Burton was practically glowing. “Dramatic is good. Dramatic is memorable.”

The murmurs died down as a tall figure stepped forward into the center of The Hollow.

He was lean, sharp-featured, and moved like someone who'd walked this space a hundred times before. His emerald-trimmed robes swished with practiced elegance. When he stopped at the center of the obsidian floor, the green flames behind him flared—possibly by design.

“I am Markus Flintstone , seventh-year prefect, and reigning leader of Slytherin,” he announced in a deep, polished voice, loud enough to echo through the seats.

Sirius leaned over to Burton. “That’s a real name?”

“Sounds like a noble boulder, but they are just an offshoot of the main flint line” Burton muttered.

“With me,” Flintstone continued, sweeping his hand down the stone dais behind him, “are your House Prefects and student leadership. The pillars of our House. Those who keep the flame lit.”

One by one, the named students stepped forward in crisp synchrony, lining the edge of the stage like a row of living portraits.

“ Gemina Markeley , seventh-year. Duelist champion, potions scholar, and our very own negotiator with Professors when we need… flexibility.”

Gemina inclined her head slightly. The look she gave the crowd could have frozen fire.

“ Louis Rowle and Alie Littcott , sixth-year prefects. Alie handles discipline. Louis handles… discipline with fewer witnesses.”

Louis grinned and gave a little wave. He got a scattered chuckle from the older students.

“ Samuel Ericstone and Christabell Yaxley , fifth-years. Samuel leads our book network—if you don’t know what that means yet, don’t ask in public. Christabell is… Christabell.”

Christabell Yaxley stared at the first-years like she was selecting which ones she could out-duel with her left hand. Someone from the second row visibly scooted back.

Flintstone continued: “ Walter Orpington, Humfrey Ogden, Elseth Crabbe, and Allison Harriswool , fourth-year representatives. All of them facing reelection tonight. Do wish them luck… and maybe bribe their friends.”

Walter gave a nervous cough. Humfrey was already sweating.

“From third-year: Gabriel Flame, Helen Scrimgeour, Joanne Chapman, and Sussane Bones. And representing second-year: Edwin Perris, Madilon Hopkirk, Barnebye Prince, and Beatrix Rosier. ”

Beatrix waved with a little too much energy. Madilon Hopkirk elbowed her with sibling-level subtlety.

“And finally…” Flintstone turned to face the rows of wide-eyed eleven-year-olds. “Four among you will join these ranks in a week’s time. Two boys, two girls. First-year representatives, chosen by your peers.”

His gaze narrowed, a flicker of amusement crossing his face.

“Don’t worry. The arena hasn’t devoured a first-year since 1732.”

Burton Flint snorted. “I knew it had teeth!”

As the prefects took their places, the green fire dimmed slightly, casting long shadows over the polished serpent on the floor. Markus Flintstone raised his hand. A soft silence fell—no enchantment, just tradition. Every Slytherin listened.

“When Salazar Slytherin founded this House,” Flintstone began, “he did not seek students who followed orders. He sought those who shaped them. He valued ambition, cunning, and greatness—not as given qualities, but earned ones.”

He began to pace slowly, voice steady.

“This arena— The Hollow —was carved over centuries. Not by Headmasters, not by the Ministry, but by Slytherins. Stone by stone, this chamber was built by students who wished to mark their place in history.”

His voice rose slightly.

“Every name etched in this stairwell, every title held here, every betrayal, victory, triumph and disgrace… it’s all remembered. Because we remember our own. And tonight, that memory continues.”

The flames flared again, and the serpent etched into the floor reared its head, tail curling into a glowing circle.

“Tonight, first-years speak their name into the Hollow. They show us not just who they are—but who they might become. And when they do, we shall judge. Quietly. Carefully. And without mercy.”

He smiled faintly.

“Because this is not a performance. It’s a declaration.”

A long pause. Then:

“Let the elections begin.”

The serpent hissed in answer, coiling tighter. The light glowed brighter around the circle in the center of the floor.

Cloyd muttered, “All this just for student council.”

Sirius grinned. “I’m starting to love it.”

The ceremony was ritualized , like everything else in Slytherin.

Gabriel Flame (third-year) and Allison Harriswool (fourth-year) reappeared in full robes, flanked by their year’s prefects. There was a speech, naturally—lots of emphasis on lineage, merit, duty , and the pride of the green and silver banner.

Allison ’s voice echoed perfectly through the magically enhanced space. “You will vote for two. One boy. One girl. No more, no less. Do not be foolish enough to spoil your ballot—Slytherin has no patience for clowns.”

A second-year in the crowd visibly gulped.

Gabriel Flame smirked and rolled a gleaming silver coin over his knuckles. “Top two become Class Representatives. Next two are deputies. Everyone else learns humility.”

Then, to scattered applause and several not-so-quiet mutterings, they called the six first year candidates forward.

Sirius stood between Darius Malfoy and Felix Nott. On the opposite end, Laviana Greengrass gave him a slight nod. Cierra Fawley smiled like a dagger, and Hilda Avery just looked supremely bored.

Each candidate had a moment to speak.

Felix Nott began with a speech that sounded like it had been written by his father’s solicitor—crisp, ruthless, and terribly dull.

Malfoy followed with a cryptic, eight-word address: “I represent tradition. I do not need applause.”

It worked. A few purebloods clapped anyway.

Cierra Fawley’s pitch was far more animated—saccharine sweet with just enough venom behind the smile. “We are the most ambitious House in Hogwarts. We should lead like it. I’m not here to play—unless it’s to win.”

Laviana Greengrass went next. She didn’t raise her voice. Didn’t project power. Just clarity.

“We’re new here. But not lost. Let’s build something. Together.”

It was... weirdly moving.

Then came Sirius.

He hadn’t prepared anything, of course. That would’ve meant taking this seriously. He hadn’t even glanced at the script prepared for him by greengrass. 

He stepped forward, gave a brief bow that mocked Malfoy’s elegance, and spoke without thinking.

“I was going to let the badges speak for me,” he said, tapping the enchanted button on his chest, which whispered “Vote Black” with a faint asthmatic wheeze. “But since we’re all here…”

He grinned.

“I think Hogwarts is mad. And brilliant. And enormous. And we’re all just trying to find our feet. But I’ve spent the last few weeks reading everything I can, asking questions, poking around, and generally annoying everyone. And what I’ve learned is this—leadership isn’t about being the loudest or the purest blood. It’s about listening. It’s about seeing. And if I get your vote, I’ll make sure I see you.Always.”

A pause.

“And also, I have the best campaigners.”

From the stands, Cloyd Prewett threw a handful of spark-bursting confetti. Burton shouted, “Vote Black or regret it forever!”

Sirius winked and walked off. “Thank you for your ears and your pity.”

The applause was scattered. Then it swelled. Then it became genuine.

The last spark of confetti from Cloyd’s absurd spell drifted down like a lazy snowflake. Then silence settled, heavy and anticipatory.

Allison Harriswool raised both hands, her green-trimmed sleeves catching the light like banners. “The speeches have concluded. You will now cast your votes.”

Gabriel Flame’s silver coin vanished into his sleeve. He gave a bow that was 80% mockery, 20% menace. “Let the wandlight reveal what your words won’t.”

The ritual began.

Second-years were already herding first-years to the glowing platform, where a pedestal stood between two enchanted columns of smoke—one emerald, one silver. A Sixth-year prefect held up a gleaming obsidian bowl rimmed in runes.

“Each of you will step forward when your name is called,” Allison said, her voice carrying through the enchanted acoustics of the Hollow. “Raise your wand. Speak the name of the boy and girl you vote for. The wand tip should glow with green or silver. The flame shall record your vote.”

“It is not anonymous,” Gabriel added cheerfully. “So if you vote for the wrong person and suddenly start finding flobberworms in your bed, you’ll know why.”

A wave of laughter rose from the older years.

Among the voters, quiet conversations broke out.

Cloyd was subtle in his way. Earlier that week, he'd quietly promised the five Muggle-borns in Slytherin a rotating study group—“just us, no drama, all the answers”—hosted in a private alcove of the common room with his older cousin overseeing. "No one falls behind," he'd said. "We move forward together."

It had landed well.

“I like Black,” Wesley Moore whispered. “He doesn’t act like we’re beneath him.”

Henry Pilch nodded. “Also, the badge is hilarious.”

The half-bloods in 1C leaned Black too—Roper, Meade, Graves. Ezra Brown said, “He doesn’t take himself seriously, which is the most serious thing of all.”

The rest? The votes fell into place like chess pieces.

The names began.

It was slow, methodical, and full of tension. Each name called was followed by whispered speculations, tiny betrayals, and half-hidden glee.

Some students hesitated.

Some raised their wand with dramatic flair—Callum Fiske nearly did a full pirouette before voting “Felix Nott and Cierra Fawley,” like he was casting a hex at a ballroom.

Others muttered their votes so softly the flames seemed to guess for them.

Burton Flint marched up like he owned the arena. “Sirius Black,” he barked. The green tip on his wand flared extra brightly.

Then: “Laviana Greengrass.”

Silver sparked like a falling star.

Cloyd Prewett skipped up whistling a tune, held his wand like a conductor’s baton, and said, “The obvious choices: Black and Greengrass. You’re welcome.”

Even the seventh-years laughed.

Felix Nott’s allies voted in tight, disciplined silence—Malfoy, Carrow, Rosier, Brewer. Their eyes stayed forward, jaws clenched like soldiers in formation. When Darius Malfoy raised his wand, he declared: “Felix Nott and Cierra Fawley.” A pause, then he added: “Obviously, the best choice for deputy.”

The crowd murmured.

Some of the votes brought gasps. When Tomas Meade—a supposed Nott ally—cast his vote for Sirius Black, a girl in the Nott section gasped . Nott didn’t move, but his jaw twitched.

Mary Owens voted Greengrass and Malfoy. Wesley Moore went Black and Greengrass. Annabel Connolly voted for Sirius and Cierra Fawley, earning a raised eyebrow from her best friend.

Henry Pilch shouted his votes with reckless glee—“Sirius Black and Laviana Greengrass!”—and danced a little jig off the platform. Half the arena stared. He bowed. “I enjoy drama!”

“Camryn Brown,” the sixth-year student called.

A girl in the third row straightened, clutching her wand like a sword. She marched up, hesitated a moment, then lifted her wand high.

“Sirius Black.”

The tip flared green.

“Laviana Greengrass.”

Silver flame bloomed.

Two wisps of light drifted into the obsidian bowl, where they shimmered briefly before vanishing. The Hollow had cast its first ballot.

Allison Harriswool stepped forward, raising her wand with crisp formality as the last ribbon of vote-light vanished into the obsidian bowl.

“Gabriel,” she called.

Gabriel Flame emerged from the line of third-years, wand in hand and face as unreadable as stone. He touched the tip of his wand to the rim of the bowl and murmured a spell under his breath.

The bowl glowed. It hissed softly, as though exhaling after a long sleep, and then spat out a parchment scroll that unfurled midair with a dramatic snap. Lines of glowing ink began to form.

A collective gasp rippled across the Hollow as numbers appeared.

Gabriel read, his voice cool, clipped, and just faintly amused:

“First-year boys—
Sirius Black: 20 votes.
Felix Nott: 10 votes.
Darius Malfoy: 5 votes.”

In the second row, a few of Nott’s allies exchanged glances, their composure cracking just enough to betray disappointment. Darius Malfoy stood perfectly still, arms crossed, glaring into the stone floor like it had personally betrayed him.

“First-year girls—
Laviana Greengrass: 23 votes.
Cierra Fawley: 10 votes.
Morag Shafiq: 2 votes.”

Hilda Avery leaned toward Morag and stage-whispered, “Well. That’s one more than I expected.”
Morag looked as though she’d just bitten into a rotten doxy.

Gabriel stepped aside as Markus Flintstone returned to center, voice amplified by the arena’s charms:

“Slytherin First-Year Class Representatives are as follows—
Boys:
Sirius Black – Class Representative.
Felix Nott – Deputy Representative.
Girls:
Laviana Greengrass – Class Representative.
Cierra Fawley – Deputy Representative.”

There was a smattering of applause—some sincere, some perfunctory, some suspiciously passive-aggressive. From the back rows came a hushed murmur:

“Power couple.”

“Please, no.”

Sirius turned to Laviana, extending a hand. “Well,” he said, eyes still wide with triumph, “looks like we’re in charge.”

Laviana took it smoothly. “Try not to look so smug.”

“Impossible,” Sirius grinned. “I was born for this.”

He gave a solemn little nod toward Cloyd and Burton, perched proudly up in the stands like manic gargoyles.

“You two are officially insane.”

“We’re visionaries,” Burton replied with a bow.

“I just wanted the badge to work,” Cloyd confessed. “But honestly, this is better.”

Laviana joined them, flipping her blonde hair with theatrical flair. “Now that we’ve won, we must actually accomplish something. I propose we begin with tea.”

Just then, Cierra Fawley glided past with a sugar-sweet smile and eyes like poisoned needles. “Don’t get too comfortable, darling. The knives stay sharp in Slytherin.”

“Comfort’s for Hufflepuffs,” Sirius called after her, not missing a beat. “We prefer drama.”

Right on cue, Burton launched a celebratory green flare into the Hollow’s ceiling. Confetti burst from his wand in a glittering spiral—this time enchanted to hover and spell out BLACK-GREEN in floating silver letters that shimmered ominously over the arena.

Someone groaned audibly. Someone else clapped. Most simply rolled their eyes.

Felix Nott gave a cool, unreadable smile.
Cierra Fawley didn’t bother hiding her amusement. She arched her brow and said softly, “Let’s see how long the crown fits.”

Sirius didn’t blink.

“Oh, I’m not wearing a crown,” he said, flashing a grin. “I’m building one.”

The last of the confetti from the first-year elections had barely settled when Gemina Markeley stepped forward, her long green-and-silver cloak billowing with every step. Her presence commanded immediate attention—sharp-eyed, composed, and unmistakably in charge.

“All right,” she said coolly, her voice cutting clean through the buzz. “Fun’s over.”

The Hollow dimmed slightly as the torchlight adjusted, shadows lengthening across the stone seats. The giddy energy of the first-years gave way to a more serious hush as the older students straightened.

“Upper-year elections commence,” Gemina declared. “Standard procedure: all current class representatives stand for reconfirmation unless formally challenged. Any challenge must be made before your year is called. If none arise, we move directly to vote.”

She cast a glance at the prefects standing nearby, then nodded.

“Anchors, step down.”

Gabriel Flame and Allison Harriswool—third and fourth-years respectively—stepped back from the obsidian bowl. Gabriel did so with practiced grace; Allison added a wink to a fourth-year friend that earned a stifled laugh.

Taking their place were Louis Rowle and Alie Littcott, both sixth-years and current candidates.

Rowle looked born to the task, his crisp uniform immaculate, voice smooth and commanding. Alie Littcott had a more sardonic air, flipping her parchment with the detachment of a bored executioner.

Louis cast Vocem Amplifico and addressed the house.

“Second-year elections begin. Your votes determine whether your current reps retain their roles. Vote clearly. Vote wisely.”

Alie added, without looking up, “And if you mess up your spell, don’t blame us when your vote catches fire. Again.”

A few second-years exchanged panicked glances.

The process unfolded with familiar rhythm. Names were called, wands lit at the tip, and votes whispered and guided into the obsidian bowl. A glowing haze surrounded the basin as it collected the magic.

Each time the final vote was cast, Alie tapped the rim with her wand, and a parchment unfurled midair. Louis read the names, monotone and absolute.

Second-year: all incumbents retained.

Third-year: a little closer, but unchanged.

Fourth-year: smooth as a well-oiled broomstick.

Gemina Markeley stepped forward again, her voice rising like the closing argument of a trial.

“Results confirmed. No seats lost. No challenges raised. The House remains strong.”

She paused, sweeping her gaze over the assembled students.

“Slytherin does not fear tradition,” she said, her tone proud. “It perfects it.”

With a flick of her wand, glowing green script hovered over the Hollow:

SECOND: Perris, Hopkirk, Prince, Rosier
THIRD: Flame, Scrimgeour, Chapman, Bones
FOURTH: Orpington, Ogden, Crabbe, Harriswool

The names shimmered for a moment, then vanished into mist.

Sirius leaned toward Laviana and muttered, “No wonder nobody challenged anyone. It was like watching statues reelect themselves.”

“Statues with hexes,” Laviana replied. “And long memories.”

From behind, Cloyd whispered, “I’m just glad we only had to do it once tonight.”

Burton added, “They’re like ghosts, but with better hair.”

Laviana turned, amused. “You realize you just insulted half our prefects?”

Cloyd shrugged. “It’s fine..”

The older years began to file out—quiet, orderly, with the same solemn dignity one might expect from a royal court. There were no cheers, no chants. Just nods exchanged, hands clasped briefly on shoulders, silent approvals passed like currency.

The first-years lingered a bit longer, letting the weight of it settle in.

This was Slytherin.

You weren’t just part of a House.

You were part of a society.

That night, Sirius lay in bed, the badge still whispering faintly on his nightstand.

Vote Black… vote Black…

He smirked to himself and reached for the enchanted twin-diary under his pillow. 

Sirius:
“Well, Phinny. I’m a politician now. Accidentally, of course. Also, someone in the audience today fainted during my speech. Not because it was good—apparently she just forgot breakfast. So I am now, officially, the only candidate who made someone swoon.”

He waited.

After a minute, the page shifted as words scratched themselves from far away.

Phineas:
“I will outdo you in every way. Wait and see.”

Sirius grinned, tucked the book away, and whispered, “Good.”

Let the games begin.