1,207Edit 4/Nov/23: To answer some questions that a lot of people commonly ask that the first few chapters/summary don't answer:
There will not be any explicit sex scenes/smut/lemons. Sex will be mentioned, sexual things will happen, but there won't be dedicated scenes that are just characters doing the nasty in the pasty.
This isn't a harem story, despite implications that say otherwise. The pairing is romantically/sexually monogamous, though due to politics/other factors there will be others connected on paper, nothing will actually be traditional harem.
Feedback/Criticism is welcome, the only time I delete comments on AO3/guest reviews on FF is when they're personal attacks, grossly and outrageously toxic/offensive, or completely irrelevant to the story such as bot comments/advertisements. I try to respond to comments at the end of chapters rather than directly replying to them in the threads, something you can do on AO3, and that starts up around chapter 8 and gets more organised as time goes on/I get used to it. If you have a question besides one of the ones above, it might be answered in one of the notes depending on if its been asked before. I tend to respond to things on the latest chapters over earlier ones, and there's a few topics that just got exhausted such as people complaining about the Harry/Bellatrix pairing, but you'll see when I put the moratorium on responding to those lol.
Anyways, hope you enjoy this fic!
BBaRtS
Sirius rolled out of bed and stretched his limbs out with a satisfied groan. He looked out the window with a squint and scratch to his arse and saw it was nearing noon. He retrieved his wand from where it'd fallen behind the nightstand, and after a few quick summoning charms, had retrieved a pair of trousers that a cleaning spell could beat the funk out of and a bathrobe with a fluffy belt for him to tuck his wand into. After a brief trip to the bathroom for his morning business, he headed out into the kitchen.
The condo he lived in wasn't anything to write home about, but the muggle girls he brought there seemed to think it was impressive. Sirius had never particularly understood what it was about their side of the world that thought the higher up someone lived the more important they were; the only reason he'd chosen this condo in the first place was because it made it easier to pull his motorcycle in without any wayward glances. Most of the girls who saw it parked in his mudroom thought it was just there for decoration.
The place itself wasn't too messy for a single man who spent most of his time there either drunk or sleeping one off. If he was sober, chances were he was either at work, the Potters' place, or a bar in order to stop being sober. The kitchen was probably in the worst shape of his rooms, a stack of dishes lay in the sink and the countertop had enough stains to drive a house elf mad, but even then it hadn't discouraged any company he'd brought over. He wasn't particularly hung over this morning, so it didn't take him long to start a new pot of coffee in the confounded machine that he'd had repaired by Arthur Weasley more times than he could count. Once it was whirring, a sound the red-headed man had assured him was normal, he moved over to the living room in order to wait.
"Good morning," a voice said as Sirius plopped into his La-Z-Boy recliner.
"Morning," Sirius yawned back.
Wait.
He jumped to his feet and reached for his wand only to come up empty handed. The stranger was twirling it in his… Very small hands? Sirius blinked. It was a boy, no more than twelve or thirteen, with a cup of tea floating before him on a saucer.
"Who the hell are you?" Sirius asked. "How did you get in here?"
The kid took a sip of his tea by floating it over to his lips, and Sirius's heart was beginning to race. He was fairly certain, wandless or not, he could take on a child, but there was something familiar about this boy. He had dark bags beneath grey eyes with a mop of shaggy black hair that reached past his ears. Sharp cheekbones stuck up on either side of his face like mountains above the valleys that were his sunken cheeks. He was extremely thin, looking almost like a reanimated cadaver, and his skin was nearly albino with how pale it was.
"I walked in," the strange boy said after several seconds of silence. "You have no wards. Your door was unlocked. You should probably be more cautious… father."
Sirius swallowed. "I, uh… I think you got the wrong guy here."
The kid cocked a single eyebrow at him and Sirius flinched at just how much he resembled him. Well, a younger, emaciated, and photophobic him. "There's no need to worry. I don't need, or even want, almost anything from you. I just need you to introduce me to our family. Or at least write me a letter of introduction. After that I'll leave you alone."
Sirius scoffed. He wasn't sure if he was more annoyed that his supposed son was implying he'd be a deadbeat dad, or that he actually did feel some amount of relief at those words.
"Listen, kid-"
"Hydrus," he interrupted. "My name is Hydrus Black."
"Er, listen, Hydrus, even if what you're saying is true, I've been disowned," Sirius said. "Listen, why don't I go get dressed, and then we can… I don't know, I'm sure there's some blood magic we can use to prove if you're right and then…"
Sirius wasn't actually sure what would happen then.
"If you really feel its necessary we can go get proof that I'm your son, but again, I just need you to introduce me to the Blacks as your son." Hydrus finished off his tea and, still wandlessly, floated his mug and saucer onto the nearby end table. "Your own status is irrelevant. They'll take me in."
"Listen-"
"You keep telling me to listen," Hydrus interrupted. "I think you should take your own advice. My uncle's proclivities have left him heirless. The rest of your generation are either a professional spinster, a disowned 'blood traitor', or married into another family's name. Cygnus still hasn't taken a new wife, or even hinted at a concubine. Your mother would sooner kill your father than let him have a second, younger wife and sire an heir beside your mummy's boy of a brother.
"Your grandfather will take me in within less than a heartbeat regardless of anything else, even if only to have a strong heir to the household. Hell, they might re-own you just so I'll show up on the tree." The boy smiled. "Though I suspect grandma might blast you right back off it once that's done."
Sirius half-sat, half-fell back into his chair. "Why?" Hydrus raised an eyebrow so he continued on. "Why would you want to be a part of that awful family?"
"Money. Power. Connections." The boy stood and Sirius flinched. His robes were filthier than the man had realised, and there was something off about his left arm, though Sirius couldn't tell what it was. "I've spent my entire life fighting. Fighting to survive, fighting to eat, fighting to find a safe place to just lie down and sleep. It's far past time that I had my due."
"Your mother." Sirius half-whispered. "Who is your mother?"
"Doesn't matter. She's dead."
"How?"
Hydrus shrugged. "I have no idea. Truth be told I'm just assuming." He hummed. "Or hoping? Would it be better to have a mother who's alive, but who left a newborn to freeze in an alley, or one who died in the alley before me?"
The lackadaisical tone the boy used left Sirius's stomach curdling, but he didn't have a response for a question like that. "And your arm?"
The boy's eye twitched, the first time his bemused-bordering-on-bored expression faltered since Sirius had met him. "No concern of yours. Will you help me or not?"
Sirius stared the boy down. His left sleeve hung limp, and although it was possibly just injured, he suspected the limb was missing from at least the elbow down. Hydrus still hadn't returned his wand, he was holding it in a reverse grip like a professional would to keep it from being easily grabbed or accidentally going off. Whether or not he was actually his son, Sirius had to agree the boy at least seemed powerful enough to intrigue that old goat Arcturus.
"W-, Wait here."
Sirius got up and made his way back to his bedroom then began digging through his sock and underwear drawer. After emptying half its contents, he found what he was looking for hidden in a balled up pair of skivvies so old and tattered that he'd have to be truly desperate to ever wear them again. He returned to the living room and tossed his old Scion Signet Ring to Hydrus, and to his surprise, the boy caught it with only half a glance and a snap of his wrist so quick Sirius nearly missed it, all without dropping the wand.
"That's a ring all us kids had at your age," Sirius said. "If you're certain, I mean really certain that you're my son then you should be able to wear it no problem. If not you might- Hey!"
Hydrus had already sat the wand down and slid the ring up his middle finger with his thumb. They both stared at it for a moment before it shrunk slightly to fit snugly along the joint. Sirius's heart sank. Technically it was still possible that the boy was one of his relatives' kids, but…
"Thank you," Hydrus said. "This will work just fine. As I said, I won't be bothering you again."
"Wait." Sirius stepped closer to his son. "I swear on my life and honour I had no idea that you… Well, that you existed. If I did…"
"You would've been the supportive, loving father you always wished you yourself'd had?" Hydrus asked, insultingly amused. "You couldn't have been more than seventeen, perhaps eighteen when I was born. You were living in your best friend's mom's attic. You wouldn't graduate from the Auror Academy until you were twenty and were living off their charity till then." The boy waved his hand dismissively. "Pretend you never met me. It'll be easier for you, and will be no skin off my back."
With a whip-like crack the boy disapparated, and Sirius wasn't sure if the child being able to do that impressed or terrified him.
Arcturus Black sat in pain. He had a hernia that the best healers the world had to offer could do nothing about. His hip had been regrown twice and each time had left him with a stronger limp. A curse he'd taken in the war had left him with a half-paralyzed face that constantly felt like it was being stretched back in a vice. Another curse had stolen a chunk of flesh from his chest that could never be grown back and ached with the rain.
Today, it was pouring.
Still, there was work to be done; managing family finances that were above and below board, reading through various letters and missives from friends and foes alike, writing his own back to those who were worthy.
A quiet pop announced Kreacher's arrival. "Lord Master Black," it said with a bow. "There is a filthy stranger at the property line asking to meet with you."
"Who is it?"
"Kreacher isn't knowing, Lord Master Black." The house elf licked its lips. "Kreacher's just knowing that it's filthy. He's having a ring of the family though."
Arcturus frowned. There were only three rings that weren't in the vault already, and of those only one was unaccounted for. "Is it Sirius?"
"Is not the blood-traitor, no."
Arcturus's frown deepened and he began tapping his finger against the desk. It wasn't likely Sirius would send a child to his doorstep, but he supposed it wasn't entirely impossible. Regulus's ring was in his mother's jewellery box at Grimmauld Place. Andromeda had thrown hers at her father when she'd been cast out. Bellatrix would sooner die than let a family heirloom fall into the hands of someone else. Narcissa's had been returned the day of her wedding. His sons' rings were both back in the vault except for the heir ring, which Orion currently wore.
It wasn't possible for it to be a fake, not since Kreacher had been the one to announce its presence. The beast might've been a disgusting and vile little servant, but he was as loyal and fanatical towards the Blacks as possible. How the hell had someone managed to-
The entire mansion began to tremble, and he was thrown from his chair as the wards came crashing down with a sound like one of the old muggle bombs. Adrenaline and agony hit him in equal measure as he grabbed his cane and stood, while Kreacher looked torn at what to do.
"Lord Master Black-"
"Go," Arcturus snapped. "Deal with the intruder."
Kreacher vanished and Arcturus freed his wand from the head of his cane. The torment had given way for the adrenaline and for the first time in months his limping gait carried him without so much as a wince of pain. He threw open the front door and stepped out to find Kreacher's head snapping back and forth between himself and a strange boy who couldn't be anyone besides Sirius's son.
His great-grandson.
"Sorry about the wards," the child said nonchalantly. "I worried he hadn't passed my message along, given the wait."
Arcturus stared down at the stranger who could've practically stepped out of a memory. Had he been properly dressed, properly groomed, he would've been the spitting image of his grandson. Even down to the storm-grey eyes.
"Who are you?"
"Hydrus Black." The boy bowed a perfect forty-five degrees and threw out his right arm to show he held no wand. "Son of Sirius Black. Here to reclaim what he once relinquished."
"How did you break my wards?"
"Magic."
Arcturus narrowed his eyes at the boy. It seemed he was similar to Sirius in more ways than one. "Explain."
"I just… did it." The newly discovered scion shrugged. "I pushed my magic against them until they shattered."
A chill ran down the patriarch's spine. If the boy wasn't lying…
"Kreacher. Get the boy cleaned and clothed, then bring him to my study."
"Y-yes, Lord Master Black."
The house elf grabbed hold of the hem of the boy's robe and they vanished with a pop. Arcturus held back a groan as he turned on his heel and headed back inside, thoughts swirling around his mind.
It would take more than a signet ring to prove the boy's blood, but that could still be taken care of simply enough. If the boy really was the son of Sirius then it could change everything. This might've just been a secondary summer home, but the wards were still nothing to be scoffed at by a teenager. Walburga would throw a fit, but he could handle that. Even if the boy caused a rift in the family, so long as he didn't swear off women like Regulus had or spit in the face of his betters like Sirius, he could be the boon that the family had deserved for decades.
It all depended on just how easy he was to manipulate.
"M'lord." Arcturus found his thoughts interrupted by a much cleaner Hydrus. He now wore a fine robe that nearly shimmered in the light, and his hair was pulled back into a short, neat tail. There was just one thing missing. His entire left sleeve, and half the arm that should've been clothed by it.
"What happened to your arm?"
"I chose my life instead of it. Kreacher tried to hem the robe to a closed stitch around the stub. I refused. Better to show it all or hide it all." the boy half-answered. "To answer your next question, unless I get the results I'm looking for here today, I have no home. Sirius didn't raise me. I'm self-taught. Yes, that includes being able to project enough magic to destroy your wards."
Arcturus once more found himself just staring at the boy as he carried the conversation alone and answering his questions before they'd even fully formed. It was like he could read his mind, though a quick check of his passive occlumency wards told him that wasn't the case.
"And how did you teach yourself manners?" he asked, thinking back to the bow.
"The Young Gentleman's Guide to Proper Society and Etiquette." Hydrus's eyes slid over the shelves behind Arcturus as if looking for the book. "If there's one benefit to our traditionalistic society, it's that a book written six-hundred years ago can still be helpful today."
"How did you get that ring?"
"I retrieved it from my father shortly before coming here, in lieu of the introductory letter I had wanted him to write." He gestured at the chair across from Arcturus and the patriarch nodded. The boy took his seat and folded one leg over the other as he settled in. "It was my first time meeting the man."
"You just showed up, took his signet ring, and left?"
"Received it," Hydrus corrected. "He gave it to me willingly after I guilted him. But yes."
"Why not spend more time with him?"
"He has nothing I need."
Arcturus cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Money. Power. Connections." Hydrus leaned forward in his seat and if it weren't for the aching in his side Arcturus would've found himself matching the boy's posture without a thought. "I want to reap everything the Black family has to offer."
The eldest member of the House of Black stared down at the boy who met his gaze unflinchingly. "And you believe the son of a disowned blood traitor can just waltz in here and take all that for himself?"
"I believe that unless you manage to leash Bellatrix or have Regulus raped you have no better chance of an heir to the family than myself," Hydrus said. "I assure you I'm more than capable of raising the family's status higher than it already is."
"What makes you think you're so capable of that?"
"I tore your wards down with my bare hands." The boy flinched. "Hand. At the very least, I have the strength to carry the burden."
"You didn't use your wand?"
Hydrus shrugged. "I don't have a wand. Food was more important at the time."
Arcturus hummed. "And you're… Thirteen?"
"Around there." Hydrus shrugged again. "Hard to tell with certainty. Thirteen going on fourteen?"
"You know nothing of your mother?"
"No. Presumed dead."
Arcturus nodded. "So you don't know your blood status?"
"I have the strength to silence those who would question me."
Arcturus clenched his jaw at the undirected threat. The boy certainly had the confidence of a pureblood heir, but that mattered little if all he could do was push his magic around like the proverbial bull in a china shop.
"Kreacher!"
"Yes Lord Master Black, Sir?" Kreacher asked after appearing with a snap.
"Bring me the Book of Families, the unabridged version." Kreacher vanished once more. "We'll need to find you a mother."
"That's it?" Hydrus asked with a cocked brow. "No testing of my blood to see if I really am who I say I am?"
Arcturus scoffed. "It doesn't matter whether you're Sirius's bastard compared to any other of my spawns. If you didn't have a direct tie to the Black family, not just in your body but your soul, your magic, that ring would've torn you to shreds."
"I see…" Hydrus hummed. "Well, a squib, perhaps? For my mother? If you choose some black sheep, no pun intended, like my father, it's possible she'll have friends who can deny ever having seen her pregnant. Squibs would be far more reclusive."
"A well thought out solution." Kreacher reappeared and dropped a book that looked twice as heavy as the elf himself on Arcturus's desk with a thump and cloud of dust. "But any 'friends' can be just as easily bought, or at least, we can purchase enough people to say the opposite of whatever the girl's associates say."
"If their lies can be bought, so too can their truths," Hydrus countered. "Blood and bonds are all that can be trusted."
Arcturus nodded, pleased at the boy's tongue. "I'll keep both options in mind."
Next was a test of patience, more so than anything else. If the boy really was this family's life line, he'd need to be able to maintain his stoicism in any circumstance. The last thing he needed was another Sirius running around and causing chaos just because he'd been forced to come and observe a Wizengamot meeting on the benefits and problems with using coconut charcoal for protection runes.
Arcturus typically found himself in the camp that believed in the old mantra of not fixing what isn't broken, but the benefits of the change had seemed to be significant enough to merit the swap. The downsides were mainly geopolitical, outside of the occasional Polynesian Pixie the stuff could potentially attract, on account of the fact that charcoal would have had to be imported. He and his own contacts in the west Indies could've made a tidy profit from the whole business had it gone through, but the lighter factions had been too split on the issue to get it done even with his own party-defying support, on account of the fact that they were concerned about the pixies of all things. Supposedly they would've upset the ecological balance of other pixies and sprites in the region. Arcturus thought it was all hog wash, he'd probably killed hundreds of the pests in his time so what was a few more? But apparently they believed in the danger of invasive species, which he took no small amount of derisive pleasure in hearing. Of course they'd care about the damn pixies invading and taking over, but not give one rat's arse about the damn mudb-
"My lord?" Hydrus said, interrupting his thoughts. "I hate to disturb your work, but I would hate even more to see you miss dinner on my behalf."
The patriarch blinked. He'd nearly snapped at the boy for his impatience, but a quick glance at the clock told him just how much time had passed without him having done more than skim a few members of the Aardwell family, Dutch purebloods that had nearly gone extinct in the war.
"I'm getting old," he muttered bitterly. "I'll do more research later."
"Perhaps you could leave it to another member of the family?" Hydrus said neutrally. "We'll need to restore your wards, after all, and I feel I could do a great deal more to help you with that than this."
The boy was giving him an out, but could he actually follow through on it?
"Know anything about runes? Arithmancy?"
"Very little," he admitted. "But from my… limited understanding of wards, they are typically charm-based runes that require the practitioner to draw the ward schemes and then give them an initial supply of magic that will then be supplemented by the ambient magic available to it. I had hoped that you would be able to repair any damage I'd done to the runes, and then I would supply the magic needed to top them back off."
"You think I couldn't supply the magic myself?" Arcturus asked with a growl. "I may be getting old, but my magic has never been stronger."
"I think a man should take responsibility for his own actions," Hydrus replied with a bow. "But that he should also know when his work would do more to hinder than help, as would be the case if I took on the entire project myself. I merely wish to do what I can."
"Hmph." Arcturus stood. "Come, we'll take our dinner in the den. I'll make some arrangements, and we'll work on the wards tomorrow."
Bellatrix Black, last true daughter of the most ancient and noble house of Black, sat with a bemused smile on her face as she continued to work on the project her grandfather had given her. 'FInd me a woman who can be bought from a respectable family,' he'd said. 'Squib, disowned, or even an ugly reclusive hermit that no one's seen in two decades, I don't care. Just make sure she won't discredit our family motto, is between the ages of twenty-eight and forty, and her family won't mind her being dishonoured.'
She giggled to herself; ugly certainly wouldn't do. If her grandfather wanted some creature comforts in his twilight years, she'd find someone he deserves. Her grandmother, a fine woman but not a Black, hadn't lived past eighty and poor Arcturus had been alone for nearly a decade and a half now.
"Nott, Nott, Nott…" She tapped her finger on an empty branch and tried to remember just who used to reside there. "Then again, the Nott's haven't ever been particularly pretty…"
A part of her wondered if the old man was planning to sire a new heir himself. Somehow she doubted even the head of House Black could still be capable of such a thing, but far be it from his favourite granddaughter to try and dissuade him of the notion. Once more she giggled.
Her laughter was cut short at the sudden wave of magic that washed over the entire house. Bellatrix shot to her feet and drew her wand. That had been a ward going up. She did a quick diagnostic spell and her stomach turned over as she realised the one that had just gone up was the only protection the house currently had.
"Kreacher!"
Kreacher appeared with a whip-like crack. "Yes, Lady Black?"
"What happened to the wards?" she asked. "Where is Lord Arcturus?"
Kreacher scowled and bared his half-rotten teeth. "Lord Master Black is with-" He cut himself off with a shudder. "Young Master Black. He's being the one who took them down."
She only half-listened to the mumbled curses of 'impatience' and 'blood traitors' before clearing her throat.
"They's being in the basement, fixing what the Young Master Black broke."
Bellatrix dismissed the elf with a wave of her hand. She silently crept towards the basement to see who exactly this 'Young Master Black' was. If someone had tricked her grandfather into thinking he was his son, she would slit his stomach and wear his entrails like a scarf. She could hear the patriarch's voice booming up the stairs as she made her way down.
"Exactly correct," Arcturus said. "Not just three, not 'nine', but three sets of three. Powerful numbers, boy, powerful numbers."
"So that's what the harp lines are for, they aren't just there for decoration." It was a young man's voice, a very familiar one. "Then-"
"Of course they're not just for 'decoration', boy!" Bellatrix wasn't alone when she cringed back and away from Arcturus's tone. "That is the essence of being a Black, nothing we do is just decorative. We aren't Malfoys for Merlins' sake. We create beauty and power as one. Purpose and purity."
"Function and form." Bellatrix finally chimed in, taking no small pleasure in the way this interloper jumped at her voice. "Who are you?"
The boy looked just like Sirius, too much like him. Perhaps some new concoction based on the polyjuice potion? A powerful glamour rune branded into his skin?
"Have you finished what I asked of you yet?" Arcturus snapped. "We're working."
"I, what?" She scoffed. "Grandfather, who is this boy? He's clearly a fraud."
"Ha!" the man barked out. "Be glad that he's not. He wears the ring, Kreacher obeys him, and watch this." He shoved the boy towards the runes they'd been working on, the Mallignifencia Curse-Charm Ward if Bellatrix remembered correctly. "Go on, it's ready now."
The Sirius look-a-like glanced back at her for the briefest of seconds, an expression she couldn't quite read there and gone by the time he looked back at the runes. He placed his hand upon them, and Bellatrix snorted as he began to push his magic outwards. If she and Arcturus worked together and didn't mind being carried to bed by Kreacher afterwards, they just might be able to start the ward up. It was impossible for this one child to… To…
She gasped as his magic began to fill up the entire room. It was cold, dark, grim… Black. A pleasurable shiver ran down her spine as the magic enveloped her. Everything about this magic was raw and powerful; it felt like the time she, her sisters, her aunt, and Dorea had come together for an ancient coven ritual to summon the magics of their ancestors. It seemed to choke out the air in the room, strangling her with its magnitude and unadulterated strength. Finally it faded, and the ward that would rip the bones out of any unwelcome guest was erected once more.
"Forgive me, my lord," the boy started. "But would it be alright for us to take a break for lunch? If I try to do another one before I've had a chance to regain my strength, I don't believe I'll be able to finish the full set."
"Of course, son, of course." Arcturus clapped him on the shoulder. "And allow me to introduce you to my granddaughter, your father's cousin, Bellatrix. Bella, this is Hydrus, Sirius's bastard. It's his 'mother' that I have you looking for."
Bellatrix held out her hand was tickled pink when he took it with grace and placed a chaste kiss between her ring and the finger beside it. It was either a social faux paus to have only half-kissed the ring, or he already knew that he would have to get in his favourite aunt's good graces if he wanted to do well in this family. She gave him a warm smile and he gave her a tired, charming one in turn.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, er, first-cousin once-removed Bellatrix." The 'er' was clearly intentional and she giggled.
"Just call me Aunty Bella, sweety." She ran a hand across his cheek. "Come along now, let's see what Kreacher's fixed for us."
She looped her arm into his and allowed him to escort her back up the stairs and into the dining hall. "Does Sirius know he's here?" she asked her grandfather. "It's hard to imagine that blood traitor would be all that happy about it."
"He's aware," Arcturus said. "Isn't that right?"
"I introduced myself to him yesterday," Hydrus informed her. "He hadn't known of my existence, and from what I saw, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. He gave me his scion ring in lieu of an introduction letter."
"It's… Difficult to believe," Bellatrix said carefully as they took their seats around the dining table. "He's always been a cad, if he wasn't smart enough to use protection for you then I'd expect you to have dozens more siblings."
Hydrus shrugged as he poured wine into her glass, once more bringing a smile to her face. "Perhaps I do, or perhaps he's just nearly infertile. The Blacks have never been known for their… large broods."
"Mmmm," Arcturus agreed as he swished then swallowed a sip of whiskey that Bellatrix was convinced would've burned the taste buds from her tongue. "Weasleys we are not. I am curious to know how you came to know of your heritage, though."
Hydrus took a moment to finish chewing a bite of his steak, cooked blue just the same way she liked her own, before wiping his mouth and answering. "There's only so many times you can be confused for a Black before you start asking questions. The fact that it seemed my mother had named me after a constellation helped lend credit to it as well. From there it took just a trip to the Ministry's public records department to get a half decent accounting of the family members it could be.
"I must admit, I wasn't entirely certain I was Sirius's son until I met the man." He took a sip of his own glass of wine, and Bellatrix nodded approvingly as he didn't flinch at the taste despite his age. "It was a bit… Odd, seeing someone who so closely resembles myself."
"Indeed," Arcturus said with a snort. "I thought you'd stepped straight out of a pensieve when I first saw you. If it hadn't been for your arm…"
"Arm?" Bellatrix cut in with a frown. "What's the matter with your arm, dear?"
"It's missing, I'm afraid." Hydrus's nostrils flared. "A bad bit of business with a cursed object."
Bellatrix grabbed hold of the boy and pulled back his sleeve to see the sinewy white stump where his elbow once was. "And it can't be regrown."
"No," he confirmed despite the fact that it hadn't been a question. "Not without letting the curse return as well." Pity welled within her heart as he stared longingly at the limb. "Perhaps I could've severed it a bit further down, but…"
"Better to do a thing right the first time than have to do it again," Arcturus said. "I've seen countless fools try to fend off mediwitches and end up losing far more than they should've, sometimes even their lives, back in the war." Her grandfather took another long draught of his whiskey. "What sort of object was it anyways?"
"A ring." Bellatrix allowed Hydrus to have his arm back as he pulled the sleeve back down. "One that I believe belongs to me."
"A ring?" Bellatrix asked. "What ring?"
"The ring of House Gaunt."
Arcturus coughed up the whiskey he'd been sipping. "What on earth would make you think it's yours? We've never married into the Gaunts."
The Gaunts were family as old as theirs, but one that had fallen from grace centuries ago. They'd first dabbled in inbreeding in order to preserve their purity, but unlike other families, they'd then gone on to make it a standard. Her aunt Walburga marrying her opposite-uncle Orion had been one thing, but from what Bellatrix recalled, the Gaunts were strong believers in 'kissing-siblings', not just kissing-cousins. They'd finally died out just earlier this year, if she remembered right.
Hydrus looked at her and hesitated for a moment before gathering himself. "Aunty Bella, could you conjure up a snake for me?"
Had the implication behind his request not shaken her to her core, the name he used would've melted her heart. "Of course." She drew her wand. "Serpensortia!"
From the tip of her wand a hooded cobra appeared. It reared up and turned back towards them, but Hydrus began to hiss at it. The sound sent shivers through Bellatrix once more, but this time there was no comfortable familiarity for it. It was just…
"Incredible!" Arcturus bellowed. "You're a parselmouth!"
"I am," Hydrus said. "My name seems more appropriate now, no?"
"But the ring rejected you?" Bellatrix asked. "How is that possible?"
"I believe it had been cursed by Morfin Gaunt," Hydrus said. The cobra was slithering towards him now, thankfully not touching any plates along the way. "That inbred, half-witted squib." The boy was practically snarling, but took a deep breath and steadied himself as the snake slithered up his arm and settled around his shoulders like a scarf. "He's been dealt with."
"And the ring?" Arcturus asked, no more bothered than Bellatrix at the implied murder. "Where is it now?"
"The stomach of an infant basilisk." Hydrus resumed his meal, and now that she was paying attention Bellatrix noticed he used some form of wandless magic to cut bites of steak away. "By the time its two metres long I should be able to extract the ring, sans curses."
"Setting aside the fact that you've somehow managed to hatch a basilisk in the first place, won't that damage the family magics within the ring as well?"
"If the family magics aren't powerful enough to withstand it, then they weren't worth it in the first place."
"Well said." Bellatrix leaned over and placed a kiss on the side of the boy's head. "There are no families that can surpass our own."
"This'll save us the trouble of finding a proper mother for you." Arcturus was swirling his drink in its glass. "As I said, we've no Gaunts in our blood, which means whomever Sirius knocked up must've had it in hers. Even we don't have proper records for that wreath of a family tree, some unknown squib off their line will work fine."
"Will he be attending Hogwarts?" Bellatrix asked. "There's still a few weeks before the new school year starts."
"Hmph. What's that school going to teach him that I can't? The boy is a prodigy, far beyond needing that coward Dumbledore's meddling."
"Kreacher!" Bellatrix suddenly called, wanting to cut off her grandfather before he went off about the war and 'that no good coward Dumbledore hiding like a neutered kneazle'. "Inform my sister that I'll need a meeting with her husband and as many of the… malleable members of the Hogwarts board as possible."
"Oh?" Arcturus asked. "What's this then?"
"You said it yourself, dear grandfather, he'll need a proper teacher." Bellatrix giggled to herself. "It shouldn't be so hard for a decorated duelist, and a Black no less, to snag a teaching job."
"I suppose its about time you found yourself a real job," Arcturus said, and Bellatrix tried not to bristle at his 'joke'. "See to it then. If that Malfoy brat tries to give you any hassle I'll remind him what the underside of my boot looks like."
Bellatrix smiled at the thought of that.
"Now come on, son." Arcturus stood and Hydrus followed despite half his meal being unfinished. "Let's finish those wards."
Harry Potter, now known as Hydrus Black, let out a sigh as he sat on the far too comfortable, far too expensive bed he'd been given.
"Kreacher."
The house elf appeared with a whip-like crack, looking as uncomfortable as possible. "Young Lord Master Black."
"You've done well so far," he said. "Keep it up."
"Is Kreacher being told how it is you is young lord master, and Lord Master Black is old lord master?"
"No." The last thing he needed was the second most psychotic elf he'd ever met finding a way to let the 'real' Blacks know what he'd done. "All I wanted to do is let you know that your performance thus far is satisfactory. Keep it up, for the glory of our family."
Kreacher began to pull at his ears, and Harry was almost tempted to let him continue on; see if the elf would actually manage to tear them off.
"That will be all Kreacher, continue to see to our family members' needs."
With another crack the elf was away, and Harry removed his shirt. He took up the small knife he'd nicked from dinner the previous night, and slid it against his arm. Once the blood had begun to pool in the gap of flesh, he knelt down from the bed and with his thumb for a quill and the blood for ink, he drew a symbol onto the floor. A straight line, a circle surrounding it, then a triangle whose top met the tip of the original line. The symbol of house Peverell, the omen of death, and the sigil he'd chosen to represent his faith in Magic itself.
"Evening," he said to start his prayer. "Another day in the House of Black done, and the second old face met. I really thought I was ready for it.
"Fucking hell, Bellatrix looks so different. She's actually pretty, and although she's still got crazy eyes, she's been kinder to me than even Sirius was when I saw him." Not that he could blame the poor bastard, given the way he'd had to treat him. "It was all I could do to not kill her then and there. I know it would ruin everything I'm working towards, but it's just so hard."
He'd killed her, along with her husband and brother-in-law, years ago in his previous timeline. It had been a disappointing and only mildly cathartic venture, just like all the others.
"Arcturus isn't quite what I expected, even beyond him not being dead. He's clearly on his way out, mentally and physically, but he's got a kind streak in him. It's buried beneath a layer of curmudgeon-ness and racism, but who's grandpa isn't like that?" He paused, trying to think of what else to say to his 'deity' of choice. "Things are finally moving along. None of this is what I wanted, but I'm sure you knew that. I promise though, even if I can't be here for the reasons we agreed upon, I'll do whatever I can to still make things right. If there's anything I'm doing wrong, or anything you need me to change, just send me a sign."
'The graves are filled,' echoed in his mind. 'The graves are filled.'
"Not sure if that was you or just me going crazy, but alright." He stood and vanished the blood from both his arm and the floor. "Good night."
He closed the wound and settled into the bed to sleep. It was nice. Years spent living beneath trees and stars on the run from an immortal dark lord meant any comfort, let alone ones as extravagant as this, were a godsend. He probably should've still been trying to discover what had gone wrong, why he wasn't back when he and Magic had intended, but it was hard when the blankets were just so-
The door to the room creaked open, and not for the first time since his return he wished he'd had his wand. Instead he kept absolutely still. Even the dark lord hadn't been able to cast the killing curse nonverbally, so no matter what he'd have at least a second to wandlessly transfigure up a wall in order to… to…
Oh god. Bellatrix, he prayed it was her anyway, was sliding into his bed. She wrapped an arm around him and began to nuzzle into his neck.
"My boy…" the insane woman whispered. "Aunty Bella's boy…" She suddenly giggled, much louder. "You're awake."
"Yes," he confirmed, cursing his racing heart for giving him away. "It's still a lot to take in."
"Hmmmm…" She pulled him in closer, and Harry wasn't sure whether it was a motherly love or something slightly more disturbing. Technically they weren't as closely related as he'd let on, but she didn't know that, and sure his mental age wasn't far off from hers, but she was still the same woman who'd killed countless people, including many of his friends. "Don't worry, Aunty Bella will take care of you."
'Oh god, oh god, oh god.'
To his relief, her breathing began to steady and before long he was certain she'd fallen asleep. He cursed his return to puberty for the small amount of disappointment that brought him, but he had to admit sleep was coming along a lot faster now with her warmth enveloping him.
'A world without Voldemort…' he thought. 'No Voldemort. No Horcruxes. No waking up to screams and blood and curses and-' Bellatrix shifted slightly and derailed his thoughts. 'Oh god are those… Is she…'
He shifted himself this time and confirmed that she was, in fact, sleeping in the nude.
'The graves are filled,' he thought to himself. 'Merlin help me.'