Chapter One

March 1979

Regulus Arcturus Black took the locket from Kreacher grimly. He had been ill for days after Kreacher had dragged him out of the cave.

"Thank you Kreacher, you are to tell no one in the family about this and this locket must be destroyed. Go rest for now" he said somewhat dismissively, admiring Slytherin's locket for its history. His lips curled in disgust when he realized what had been done to it by a filthy half-blood. The Dark Lord was powerful, and not a man to be trifled with, but Regulus doubted that he gave one whit about blood purity and the continuation of magical society. He only cared about torturing and murdering muggles, something that Regulus found to be… distasteful.

As for muggle-borns… Regulus smirked as he thought of Venna. She was one of the brightest witches he had ever known, and she was willing to learn wizarding culture rather than trying to change it. He closed his eyes, basking in memories of her. His… liaisons with her were going to get him blasted off of the Black family tree, he was sure.

The thought of marrying a pureblood witch from British society was absolutely abhorrent. They were vain, glittering examples of inbreeding and general stupidity. After taking a good look at his family tree Regulus had recently decided that new blood could only do it some good and it was amazing that Sirius and himself were both, debatably sane.

In order for Venna to be safe the Dark Lord had to be destroyed… and Bellatrix had to be safely locked up. His parents might disown him for marrying Venna, but Bellatrix would torture her to death.

December 1985

Lyra Black watched the muggle boys throw snow at each other from her place curled up on the window seat with her book- she looked up nervously as her mother and father's voices got louder.

"I need a son to continue the family line-" Regulus shouted.

"The family line? Ha! You married me and the only reason you weren't disowned is because your Grandfather realizes how bad it would make your family look after the war."

"Of course I married you" Regulus snapped. "And I didn't do it to fulfill some sort of political agenda, I did it because you were pregnant and-"

"You were trying to do right by me, I've heard this before" Venna snapped.

"Don't be ridiculous Venna. I did it because you were pregnant, and I knew that you could give me more children whose genes would be better from a dilution of inbreeding" said Regulus, and Lyra winced. That was the wrong answer.

"Marrying you was the worst mistake of my life! I should have married for love- no, don't touch me!" Venna shouted. "If you want a son than you will have to find someone else. I'm leaving you Regulus, and it's no more than you deserve, you filthy Death Eater!"

"Venna-"Regulus tried.

"You can keep the brat. I have no use for her, and besides, I've already packed and I only have one ticket. I'll send divorce papers from France." Venna finished, and with a distinct pop, she apparated away. The cottage was filled with an eerie silence.

A strange, queasy feeling filled Lyra's stomach as she realized her mother held no love for her, and had simply left without saying good bye. And then the silence was broken by sobs, and seven year old Lyra made her way down the stairs. Her father was kneeling on the floor, in front of the place where his wife had left him, sobbing brokenly into his hands.

Lyra knelt down beside him and embraced him as he sobbed. After a few minutes he pulled her into an embrace and she joined in him in crying.

Arcturus Black arrived at Black Corner Cottage three days later. Epsy let him into the house and he found his grandson in the kitchen working his way through a bottle of fire-whiskey. He didn't bother restraining himself from sneering as his grandson drank directly from the bottle.

"The heir to the house of Black drinking directly from the bottle. How very plebeian of you." He said, leaning on his cane.

Regulus looked up at his grandfather, took another sip from the bottle and spoke: "I was never supposed to be the heir grandfather, and perhaps you should have insisted that mother left Sirius alone."

"Perhaps, you both chose the wrong side in the end." He said.

Regulus snorted. "My brother was never a death eater. You are a fool to think that he ever was. Only the weak and foolish served the Dark Lord directly. No, it was Pettigrew who was a Death Eater, not Sirius. He was right to kill him, though I have some trouble believing him capable of killing a man he called a friend."

Arcturus looked surprised. "Do you think that he could be innocent?"

Regulus shrugged. "He could be. There was no trial. I found it surprising that Dumbledore didn't demand one for his pet, but I wonder if that would have interfered with his plan for the boy hero. It seems strange that he is still hidden away, the Death Eaters that would harm him are mostly locked away."

"Perhaps I will inquire as to why my grandson never received a trial." Arcturus mused aloud.

A ghost of a smile crossed Regulus' face. "If you are hoping to reform him, I wish you the best of luck, grandfather. Sirius is a Gryffindor, and not one for politics. He'll never be a proper heir to the house of Black."

Arcturus sneered at him. "You aren't either with your marriage to that-"

"She left me" Regulus cut him off bitterly. "I got divorce papers this morning."

Arcturus looked at the half empty bottle of fire-whisky on the table and the papers next to it. He sat at the table, looking around at the kitchen, which was clean but lacked the ostentatious wealth usually associated with the house of Black. He glanced at the divorce papers, which were fairly standard.

"I am surprised that she isn't trying to relieve you of a large sum of money." He said as he read them over.

Regulus' lips curled into a bitter sneer. "Only because she knows that she won't get it. I am not completely stupid, she signed a prenuptial agreement where if she did not provide me with a son she would get nothing if she left me."

"Speaking of children what is to become of your… daughter" Arcturus managed to get out, though it was still a tough potion for him to swallow that a great-grandchild of his was a half-blood.

"She is mine" Regulus hissed. "She will stay with me. Venna… is uninterested in sharing custody."

It was rare for Arcturus to show surprise. "She left the child?"

Regulus gave a curt nod. "She made it very clear that Lyra was unwanted by her. I wish she had not done so within earshot of the girl. It was unnecessarily cruel."

"You will need to remarry" Arcturus said. "And not a mudblood this time, a proper witch. Your mother-"

The scowl on Regulus' face could peel paint. "My mother and I are not on speaking terms. I will not allow her to match me up with some prissy society witch. If I marry again I will do it on my own terms, to a witch of my choosing. I will marry for love."

"You are a fool, Blacks do not marry for love." Arcturus stated. "If you do not produce a son, or more than one, just to be safe, the Black name will die."

"Maybe it should." Regulus said. "If you are so concerned with the continuation of the family, than you had better get my brother out of prison because I'm not likely to produce an heir anytime soon."

Arcturus stood. "Your generation is cursed with fools and blood traitors with no concern for the future. Whatever did the house of Black do to deserve such a tragedy?"

"Probably several things, including marrying to closely" Regulus shouted as Arcturus swept out of the room.

January 1988

Sirius Black looked around the courtroom, a bit bewildered as to why he was here now. Azkaban had not been kind to him. Courtroom Ten was not a room he was familiar with, and it was a change from the oppressive dreariness of Azkaban. The plum robes were a bit hard on the eyes, as was the general lighting of the room after years of only seeing things in shades of gray and black. The chains around his wrist came as no surprise.

"Sirius Black, you were accused of murdering on Peter Pettigrew and 13 muggles." A woman with a monocle began. It has come to our attention that you were never given a trial. Please explain the circumstances of the night of November 2nd, 1981 to the court…"

Late January 1988

Sirius Black looked around the little cottage in curiosity. It seemed odd to him that Regulus would live in such a rustic little cottage. Regulus noted his curious look.

"We haven't always lived here, but after my wife left me I needed a change. Welcome home brother, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish to. Lyra!" he finished with a shout up the stairs.

Lyra, Sirius discovered, was a girl of about 9 years of age who had shrewd grey eyes and long, dark waves tied back with a green ribbon. She was wearing a long sleeved black dress with green embroidery that matched her ribbon and stockings. She wore no shoes, Sirius noted as she came down the stairs.

"Welcome to Cottage-by-the Crossroads Uncle." She greeted with a quick curtsey. Her curious look gave him the uneasy feeling that he was being evaluated, it was the same look that Arcturus had given him upon his release. Even after various evaluations and potions at St. Mungos he felt a bit off.

"Thank you Regulus," he managed to get out. "for your… generosity."

Regulus smiled at him mockingly and ushered him into the kitchen to sit at the table. "How hard those words must be for you Sirius. Better here than with Grandfather- either of them", he amended. "Grimmauld Place is unoccupied at the moment, but I wouldn't recommend it. I'm not sure what curses mother left on the place. She was quite horrified that both of her sons became blood-traitors in the end."

"Blood-traitor? You?" Sirius questioned. "What did you do to end up as one in mother's eyes?"

"He married my mother." Lyra said. "She is a muggle-born."

"I'm sure that mother blasted me off the family tree just as she did many of our generation. Grandfather would not let her disinherit me though, or there wouldn't have been anyone left to carry on the name. Don't be surprised if he tries to set you up with some proper pure-blood society witch. He's been trying to get me to remarry for over a year now. He didn't even wait for my divorce papers to be signed before he started insisting that I remarry. If you wish to be reinstated as the Black family heir you're welcome to marry some prissy society witch. I've been considering taking Gringotts up on their offer to send me to Egypt just to get away from his presentations of suitable wives at every party I'm required to attend."

"I'm not interested in marrying." Sirius said, drinking the tea that his niece had just made. "I'm even less interested in being the Black family heir. If I didn't hate the ministry so much I'd go and ask them to be reinstated as an Auror. Pettigrew, that miserable rat, is still at large. But for now I am most interested in finding out what happened to my godson, since I haven't been doing my duties as godfather for the past seven years."

"Apparently Dumbledore sent him to live with muggles, which is rather inappropriate for a boy who is both the boy-who-lived and the Potter family heir, as he is the last of that family. It caused a bit of a scandal, but since no one knows where he is, there is nothing to be done. It's Dumbledore who you will have to ask for your godson's whereabouts.

February 1988

"He is safe Sirius" Dumbledore said, looking over his half-moon glasses at the agitated man across the desk. "It is best not to disturb his relatives."

"I want to see my godson." Sirius responded, barely containing his anger.

"And you will, but not until after he turns eleven. For now he is safe and happy with his relatives." Dumbledore said, and his tone left no room for debate.

June 1990

Harry Potter was not at all happy and far from safe with his relatives. Aunt Petunia was especially vicious with her frying pan. It was Uncle Vernon who did the most damage with his frequent fists, especially after consuming liquor on especially bad days at work. Grunnings could have been doing a bit better, not that it would've stopped the limited meals and swipes directed towards the Dursley's young nephew.

It was when Uncle Vernon lost his job that Harry decided to run. He stole enough for the bus fare to London, but he knew that if he stayed he would be hurt severely.

July 1991

Lyra looked around Diagon Alley in amazement. There was so much to see, and though Regulus worked at Gringotts, she had never visited the alley before. He preferred to bring her to the wizarding village of Hogsmeade to get basic essentials, especially when it wasn't a student weekend. Regulus did not like being seen out in the Wizarding World very often, preferring to remain in the shadows. Instead they took frequent trips around muggle London, and to Paris and Rome.

Regulus put a firm hand on her shoulder and guided her through the busy throngs of people. School lists had gone out a week before, and since the month of August had started, students who wished to read their textbooks before school started were in a bit of a panic.. He wore plain black robes edged in silver runes, and Lyra wore one of her simple black dresses, her outfit of choice.

"Ollivanders will be our first stop Lyra" he said, guiding her through the crowd. Ollivanders was narrow and surprisingly shabby for hosting an inventory of objects guaranteed to be bought. A bell tinkled as they entered the shop, and Lyra stiffened a bit as she felt the air tingle with the potential magic of so many magical ingredients in one place. It was more than a little dusty, and Lyra's lips curled into a sneer.

"Good morning" a soft voice called out from the darkness that clung to the hallway filled with boxes. Regulus had fingered his wand, and Lyra had already seen the man before he spoke.

"Good morning," Lyra greeted in return, grey eyes carefully tracking his movements.

"I don't believe I know your wand sir, though I have sold many wands to various Blacks over the years." he said to Regulus.

"Mine is from elsewhere" he said. "It suits me well enough, it is my daughter who is to get a wand today."

Ollivander frowned, pale eyes scrutinizing Regulus curiously for dodging his question.

"And your name child?" he asked.

"Lyra," she replied quickly.

"Which is your wand arm?" he asked, taking out a tape measure.

"My left" Lyra replied. Ollivander began measuring various things, nattering on about wandlore. The tape continues on measuring as he began pulling down boxes from the shelves.

"Walnut-" Lyra waved it and several shelves came crashing down. Regulus moved out of the way.

Ollivander snatched it back. "Perhaps not. Ebony and a phoenix feather-"

This time he didn't even let her wave it as it began to emit smoke. "Blackthorn and a dragon heartstring."

Sharp, tiny needles of ice came spitting out of the wand, embedding themselves in shelves and boxes before melting as Lyra put the wand down. "Almost" Ollivander said, looking at the boxes before handing her another.

She waved the pale wand, and it felt right as tiny blue flowers came out of it. Ollivander's pale, bulbous eyes blinked in surprise. "I've never seen anyone conjure flowers before. Of course, the ice needles were new too. Well Ms. Black, your wand has found you. Aspen, 9 ¾ inches, with a dragon heartstring core. That will be 7 galleons."

Regulus counted out the galleons, paying extra for the cleaning kit and a holster. He helped Lyra put it on before they even left the shop. "A wand is a very valuable tool, but like all tools it is useless if you can't use it properly... or if you don't have it."

Regulus shuffled Lyra in and out of a number of shops, including Twilfitt and Tattings, which was on the tad expensive side for robes. Regulus was not concerned, he made a sizable sum from his curse-breaking work at Gringotts, and if Arcturus had not reinstated Sirius by now, he was unlikely to at all. Sirius had not kept company with any female, suitable or otherwise, since being released from Azkaban.

The pair's very last stop was Flourish and Blotts. Regulus helped Lyra quickly gather up her required texts.

"We may as well browse the collection while we're here" he said, admiring the many books. A love of knowledge was something that he had shared with Venna, and his daughter. The difference between him and Venna was that Regulus needed a reason to seek knowledge, being a Slytherin came with a certain amount of realistic practicality that the other houses lacked. But the pair of Blacks also enjoyed reading, and Regulus took his daughter to muggle bookstores on a monthly basis, and wizarding ones twice a year to add to the ever growing collection at Cottage-by-the-Crossroads.

It was as Lyra was browsing the collection of textbook sets by the standard book of spells series (she got the whole set and the appendices) that she bumped into the boy. He had greasy black hair and ill-fitting rags. Based on the books that he was clutching she realized that he must also be a first year. His green eyes were quite wary. Lyra's first instinct was to sneer, but she stopped herself. For all she knew he might be a valuable ally.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, and held out a hand. "I didn't mean to bump into you. I just got distracted by all the books."

He quickly took her hand and shook it. "It's alright. This place is a bit overwhelming innit? I'm Harry by the way." he finished.

"I'm Lyra" she replied, returning the greeting. "Are you a first year at Hogwarts too then?" she asked.

Green eyes flashed in surprise. "How do y'know that?" he demanded.

She waved a hand at his textbooks. "Your books. There the same as mine." Lyra replied, as if should be obvious.

"Mr. Potter" said a sharp voice quietly. "Are you quite finished?" a man asked. He was a sneering man with sallow skin, shoulder length greasy hair, and a hooked nose, above which were gleaming, dark eyes.

Lyra could not quite contain the surprised at meeting the boy-who-lived, and was quite glad that she had not sneered at him.

"Yes Professor Snape." he said, sounding somewhat resigned.

The Professor put his hand on Harry's shoulder and was going to steer him away, but Regulus had just moved into his way. Lyra could tell that Regulus was somewhat uneasy at encountering the man, and she wondered why.

"Ah, Severus. What a pleasure to see you again. It's been years." he said with false cheeriness, and moved to Lyra's side immediately, putting his hand on her right shoulder so that he could reach his wand. "I see you've encountered my daughter Lyra. I rather suspect that she'll be in your house unless she breaks tradition and ends up in Ravenclaw like her mother was."

Regulus turned to his daughter, keeping an eye on Professor Snape. "Lyra, this is Professor Snape, who is the head of Slytherin house and teaches potions at Hogwarts."

"Hello professor," Lyra greeted warily. "I'm looking forward to your class. Potions is a very useful subject to learn."

"That it is Ms. Black" agreed Professor Snape before he turned back to Regulus. "I'm afraid I have a few more errands to run as Minerva has roped me into assisting her in introducing students to the magical world yet again and I must be going." Professor Snape did not sound particularly pleased.

"That's quite alright, we should get going as well." Regulus replied.

"I hope I see you at Hogwarts Harry" Lyra managed to get out as Professor Snape dragged the boy away. She was very curious as to how Harry Potter had ended up in such a state.

Regulus turned to her. "Who was that, Lyra?"

"The boy?" she muttered. "That was Harry Potter. I wonder how he ended up in such a state. Are his relatives not well off? Uncle Sirius would be horrified to see his godson in such a state."

"I'm more interested in how Severus got roped into taking the boy shopping" Regulus speculated. "He hated the boy's father- and Sirius too, for that matter, though they certainly did plenty to earn his hatred. I think he might have loved the boy's mother though, but I wouldn't recommend mentioning that to anyone. He didn't choose her in the end." Regulus' eyes darted around nervously. "Come on, let's pay for those books of yours and go home. I don't think I really want to run into anymore... old friends." Lyra let her father quickly pay and drag her out to use the floo- not the one in the Leaky Cauldron, but the fireplace of a different, less crowded pub towards the other end of the street.