Chapter 1. The curious case of Arcturus Black
— Great. Six years of searching wasted. Just imagine – this is a girl! A gi-rl! It's absurd!
You are not especially surprised by a speaking dog when you're five. But when a big, shaggy animal comes close to you in a dark and deserted, starts lecturing you for being a girl it surely takes you aback. However, I was so terrified by that point that I got lost, the dogs' claims being just another addition to my moneybox of despair.
I don't even know what I was thinking about at that moment, but I used my beloved method. It always worked on passers-by, and myself, a five-year-old, but it hadn't come to my mind that dogs might be quite another case. However, for a girl my age, I was extremely bright.
I flopped on my butt and bursted out crying. Loudly and inconsolably.
— Great, — commented the dog, as it took a seat nearby. With a skeptical muzzle, he began to stare at my sobbing, and at that moment, I already understood that he wouldn't fall for such tricks.
I quickly realized that nobody was going to feel sorry and rescue me, so I fell silent.
— Well. Since these degenerates didn't let me any choice, and you are the only successor, I will introduce myself. I am Arcturus Black.
That is how I got acquainted to Grandpa Black.
To be precise, I should say that Arcturus was my grand-grand-grandfather. He had a lot of children and named them in his honor, but then died of age at a little bit more than sixty. But his excessively anxious soul, carrying a destiny of some sort, didn't go to rest. Still, during his lifetime, he had sworn an oath to glorify the Black family through – and I quote- centuries, and therefore remained in transit on earth to look after his descendants. And here, when the last hope for reproduction, Regulus Blak, tragically died, the spirit of the old man rose from an illusive coma and moved around in search of the next successor. During his life he was a cool animagus, and for some incredible reason he got the appearance of a dog, which wasn't now common among ghosts.
— Generally, this is typical for the most powerful thoroughbred magicians — noted grandpa, looking at my notebook. I covered it with the palm of my hand.
— Don't disturb me! You complained that Blacks have thrown away the family chronicles!
— This is a chronicle?! — The dog bristled up. — Don't dishonor the family name! What is written here — he died of age at a bit more than sixty? I was fifty-eight! Just give me the pen!
He tried to snatch my pen out of my hand with his teeth, but I avoided it and pushed him away as he grunted "nothing respectful" and "the ill-bred little girl". I read what I wrote again and threw the notebook on the floor. Yeah, it really is hogwash.
Gravel rustled, and a car approached the house. The engine switched off, and a minute later the sound of the trill was heard below. The windows from my room gave onto the other side of the house, and therefore I didn't know who came to visit. But I guessed.
— Good afternoon, mam, it's the police.
I was on my legs half of a second later. I quickly twisted the notebook in a tubule, grabbed a jacket and opened a window.
Ha-ha-ha!
And now let's imagine that we fly.
I'm not afraid to jump from the second floor. I learned to do that during the first year, once I moved from the closet to the cool room upstairs. Children learn fast. But Black's successors learn even faster.
Arc landed nearby. He didn't like this nickname, but he didn't like to be named "grandpa" either. We silently slipped through bushes and were there.
— I told you that it was reckless!
I smiled and stole a loaf from my neighbor's bag. Oh yes, I learned that fast as well.
We went to park and I gave half of the loaf to Arc.
Six years have passed since Arc found me in the park alone - frightened and lost. I did get lost. And that happened because I ran away from home. Yes, I was five, and I have ran away from home, cheerful, isn't it?
But there really was nothing cheerful. I accidently broke half of the kitchen when my cousin Dudley poured boiling water on my leg. I just started to yell because of the pain and suddenly the glassware began to blow up. We were there together when Vernon came - Dudleys' father — Arc forbade me to call him uncle, rejecting all relationship with the muggles — my cousin was all cut by splinters, but there was not even a scratch on me. When Vernon began to hit my face, I felt horribly uncomfortable. That's why I ran away.
Then, I was living in an abandoned hotel for a week. I was lucky because a lot of children coming from dysfunctional families were living there. They were older than me and wanted to throw me out in the beginning, but they later realized that I haven't lived a better life than any of them. At first, Arc frightened them, he didn't let them come close to me, but then they started to listen to me and they let me stay. They even gave me a blanket and food. That is how I made new friends – well, the first ones in my life. Since that time, we meet on occasions and sometimes get in trouble together.
— Write it down in your chronicles, word for word – every week. - Grandpa interfered peevishly.
I wanted to object, but after thinking about it, I managed not to. And wrote what he said.
Then there was an interesting story with the Guardianship agencies. I went to the police and told them that I was lost. Arc ordered me to behave as if I was with him, during the first meeting. I smeared the tears on my cheeks and answered all the questions that the police officer asked, with the naivety expected from a child. I even added juicy details about my life in the closet, the housework and the constant feeling of hunger.
— Hunger still pursues you — Arc said as he scratched behind his ear.
— Just don't do this right now, ok? You ate half of a loaf, even though you are a ghost!
Arc wanted me to return to the Dursley's house on more favorable conditions. At least I would get a shelter. But I could always run away from it. That was without considering that Arc was a very cunning dog.
— All right, all right, I'll drop it. – I said with teeth clutching near my ear.
We did it. With the desperate desire of hiding the shameful rumors about their niece's abuse, the Dursley's promised to keep a good attitude towards me and let me move to the room upstairs. They even allowed grandpa to stay with me in exchange of my promise to not tell any bad things to the police officers and inspectors from the guardianship agency who often came to check on me.
Basically, when we returned to the Dursley's, another life began. Now, there was grandpa with me, who, even though he was a dog, cared for me in his own way and I had friends from the streets. Also, there was still something left unexplored. Magic.
It was wonderful opportunity. A missing piece of a puzzle. All my life was suddenly filled with sense when magic appeared in it. Nothing ever made me as happy as training my magic skills.
Grandpa had a house filled with books about wizardry. It was also my house, but I was still a bastard - I didn't carry the right surname, and therefore couldn't get inside the house. Grandpa said that as soon as my strength would be at its best on my eleventh birthday — not without reason children are taken to magic schools from that age — and I would then be able to see the house and get inside it. For now, Arc periodically vanished for several days to later come back home dragging new books to me.
Once there was money in my pockets, acquired in a way that was absolutely not fair with my friends, I was able to buy bus tickets and go with Arc. Nothing much more than some books could fit in my backpack, some others in grandpa's mouth.
The more books I studied, the more I wanted to know. The stronger I got, the more I wanted to test everything in practice. Arc refused to get me a wand. According to his age-old theory, children that weren't at least eleven years old can't use wand without hurting their natural magic abilities. But he strongly encouraged me to develop the intuitive magic abilities. Grandpa could conjure anything without a wand during his lifetime — for old magicians it was a rule so they could overcome themselves and learn it.
— Now hothouse children learn nothing in these alleged schools — agreed Arc, beginning to talk about his favorite subject. — Earlier, everyone has been obliged to be able to use about twenty different types of witchcraft without using anything, except their own gift!
First of all I learned to jump from the second floor — otherwise night walks with friends would be impossible. Then, of course, once the bar under the house had been cleared — I learned to jump off from the fourth floor even though it was frightening.
— You have also dislocated an anklebone a month ago — Arc reminded caustically.
From those reading nights, where I wasn't wandering around the city, I learned to create light spheres. At first, they rushed over the room and went out in five seconds, but now they burn for hours. I also learned to practice silent walking which was especially difficult, and something called "magic fingers".
— You also learned to steal from bags, but it's better if you don't write it down— grandpa noted.
From the very first day, I try to gain speed. In a fight, speed is very important, but I cannot move quickly enough yet. Even though it gets better with time. Especially after Sam dragged all of us to the hall of martial arts three years ago.
— You can distract people's attention — helped Arc.
I can make others look away indeed.
— And therefore, you sometimes sleep during lessons.
And therefore sometimes I sleep during lessons, but the teacher doesn't notice.
— And lovely ladies don't notice either how you pull things out of their purses. Don't write it.
— I don't pull things out of someone's purse so often — I moved past that. I only need money for the most necessary things. Chocolates, for example. Sneakers. A ticket to London.
I thumbed through the pages of a notebook and pulled out the letter placed between them, made of dense parchment.
"Dear Gertrude Potter! We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."
— Here is the reason of my melancholy. — Arc commented.