A Pureblood Prince
Chapter 1
A Pleasant Flight
All rights pertaining to the intellectual property that is Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling. I own no part of it.
"Knight to E5…" The young man said, his brow creased in concentration.
"Queen to E5, master." A low, plummy voice replied.
Bertrum Ogden watched in dismay as queen of a slightly tubby disposition, glided across the chessboard only to rise from her throne and strike his valiant knight down with it, reducing the soldier and his horse's anatomy to small pieces.
"Pesky Pixies Scotchy! You have managed to best me once again." The young man said, throwing his arms up in apparent frustration.
"My deepest apologies master." The opponent replied, his voice filled with genuine remorse.
"Come, come now, don't take it like that. It was merely an instinctual exclamation. Nothing was meant by it."
"As you say master." The elf replied.
"Though I dare say dear boy. If we top you up with some Polyjuice potion, I could safely stake a stack of Galleons on you and turn a tidy profit at the Thaumaturge club tourneys."
He said with a cheeky smile.
"That would be inadvisable master. Scotchy is unaware as to the full scope of the intricacies and nuances surrounding the Polyjuice potion, though would expect results most undesirable if one were to participate in cross species transfiguration."
"A dashed shame. I have always wondered what it would be like to be a unicorn."
"It is truly most regrettable master."
"Well I think I have had enough competition for today, let us table this for now." Bertie said, whisking out his wand and silently waving it at the chess set.
A battle of voices erupted as all the kings horses and all the queens men found themselves being pushed and pulled into formation, as the chess set sealed itself shut.
The young man then continued to lay back on his pillow and took a deep breath of relaxation.
"Ah, a truly splendid day, wouldn't you say Scotchy!"
"The weather is indeed most agreeable, master." The elf responded as he packed the set away into the trunk brought along by the party of two.
"I have really outdone myself this time Scotchy!. Out of all our expeditions, wouldn't you say this locale stands top of the pops?
"Certainly Master."
"Yes, yes, this is truly trip worthy of being scribed in canon. Oh Jolly look! There goes another ship."
If the magically challenged (muggles) onboard the HMS Virginia sailing through the channel that day, deigned to gaze up at the clouds they would find themselves greeted to the curious sight of a singular red balloon, hovering in a static position high above the dover cliffs. As always completely unaware to the otherwise all together well-known effect of the disillusionment charm at work, masking the sight of far more astonishing view. Levitating high above the cliffs was a magic carpet.
7 metres in length and width, the carpet was of Indian make. Weaved from the finest silks of the Magical Raj, the fabric was Tyrian red, in dispersed with gold and red inlays working in tandem to form a pattern.
It was upon such a magical apparatus sat Bertie Ogden and his most trusted house elf Scotchy.
"Ah, I'm as chuffed as a hippogriff feasting on a ferret… Fetch me a drink would you Scotchy?"
"Certainly, master." The elf replied in the affirmative.
Surrounding the odd pair was a menagerie of luxuries such as food, drink, a plethora of tomes along with any other comforts that left the heir of House Ogden want for naught.
"Butter Beer Master?" The elf questioned as he reached toward the bottled substance in question.
"No, no! pumpkin juice will be more than satisfactory."
The elf paused for a moment before replying "As master commands."
"And perhaps a slice of that Cauldron cake." Bertie added.
"Certainly sir."
The Ogden heir was well aware that his servant had noticed his unusual reticence toward his preferred beverage and was simply waiting for the elf to bring attention to it.
"Was the butter beer wanting sir?" The elf said, his voice dripping with curiosity as he served his master the ordered delicacies.
The young man chuckled. Few wizards and witches would tolerate their house elves canvassing them in such a manner, but Bertie Ogden was one of the few. When questioned he stated himself completely justified on the matter, for Scotchy was no ordinary elf. Bonded to him at the tender age eleven, the young man had found his servant to be extremely intelligent. Rather than stifle his talents under the mediocrity of mere busywork, Bertie allowed his servant to prove his worth. As expected, the elf had risen to the task, proving himself extremely insightful with his counsel saving Bertie's griffin hide on innumerable occasions. This in tandem with the elf's undying loyalty to his master above all else had made him a constant companion of Bertie's. The youth was completely assured the elf would only act in a manner that aligned with his master's interests.
"Not at all my good fellow, you need not take offence. I am afraid I have an engagement tonight, a small get together with the old cronies. Knowing them I have no doubt that the evenings particulars will involve the significant digestion of inebriants. I thought it prudent to preserve my health lest I find myself pie eyed and laid out in some gutter down Nocturn Alley."
"Would this engagement be connected to the name day celebrations; master's friends intend to hold in his honour?" The elf continued.
"Connected! Ha!" he laughed.
"They are one and the same my good friend." Bertie said as he enjoyed his snack.
"If sir is amiable, could Scotchy enquire as to why master's birthday celebrations are being held the day before his actual name day?"
"Ah you catch on quickly old fellow. You see morrow's celebrations will be held under the gazes of most of the upper echelons of the wizarding world. An evening chalk full of festivities no doubt, however one where we won't be able to have a sip of butter beer without someone sticking their manticore tails where they aren't wanted. In order to void such adversities, the chaps have wisely decided to prepone the event."
"Most shrewd, master."
"Indeed, my good fellow. In fact that is partially the burgeoning reason for this outing. I have no doubt that the night my old chums have planned will require some mental preparation, hence the relaxing day of peace and quiet, before my night on the town."
The two then proceeded to chat amicably as they enjoyed the vista before them.
A few hours later
Bertie rose from his reclined position and stretched his limbs.
"Ah! I think its time we head back eh Scotchy?"
"Indeed sir, the elf replied."
"Tell you what. How about you bundle all this up and apparate home, I find myself yearning for a more scenic route."
"As master desires." The elf replied dutifully.
As the elf continued about the task of packing up their belongings, Bertie removed his wand from his pocket aiming it in the direction of the trunk.
"Accio Cleansweep!"
A low rumble was heard deep within the endless confines of the trunk, causing the container to shake violently before flying open, letting escape the magical apparatus in question straight into Bertie's outstretched hand.
"Righto! Farewell Scotchy, don't wait up for me."
"Scotchy wishes Master a pleasant flight."
And with that Bertie walked to the verge of the windborne rug, his eyes alight excitement. Then with a simple, anticlimactic hop, he mounted his broom and set off into the expanse.
The effect was immediate. The pleasant, mild temperature of the magic carpet, the work of various charms and enchantments imbued for the rider's comfort, fell away exposing the young lord to the cold, biting winds of the English seaside. Though Bertie wasn't fazed, in fact he wouldn't have had it any other way.
Bertie loved flying. In his view riding broomsticks was a tradition as old as magic. A quintessential quality to any witch or wizard worth their pixie dust. While Purebloods were loathed to be seen riding broomsticks as a mode of transport, deeming such behavior unbecoming of their status, Bertie lacked such reservations. He considered the common wizard privileged to be unable to afford the floo powder that forced the Gentry of Magical Europe from one soot filled fire place to another. The monotony only broken by having to endure the incessant junctures of horrible stomach-turning abyss in between. No indeed, most wizards and witches were spared such a "luxury" and ins its stead granted the opportunity to spend their days in the open sky. Bertie also considered it a rather fine exercise in character building. What better time and place to contemplate one's existence than up amongst the clouds. However, all this was not to say that purebloods carried no fondness for the broomstick, rather the contrary as they were mad keen on the sporting facet, more than willing to take part in hunts, races and of course Quidditch.
While Bertie most certainly appreciated the competitive element, it was not the main reason he flew. Bertie felt flying was a joy unto itself. There was little more magical than being able to soar over the tallest mountains, only to then plummet toward the earth, descending at breakneck speed simply to bolt upright at the last moment, and dart across the valley below, all to do it again moments later. It was when appreciating thrills like this, the young lord truly pitied the muggles.
CHAPTER BREAK
The young lord had found himself at the end of his scenic route homeward. The sun had slowly begun its descent, as Bertie entered the Wizarding hamlet of Snogden. (The humorous pun wasn't lost on its denizens neither.) The abode wasn't difficult to find, as all one had to do was look atop the highest mountain, to find its graceful figure overlooking the region.
While in comparison to the castles of other magical families like the Black's and Prewetts, Bertie's home didn't impress with splendor, the estate certainly held more than its fair share of opulence. Wand crafted by Licorus Black, the domicile was delineated to capture the architecture of the Beetle the Bard era, utilising a myriad rare woods and timbers. The building also evoked aspects of the contemporary Victorian style, imbuing the structure with a gothic aesthetic in line with the family's early Germanic routes. This ultimately resulted in a house that was tall, imposing, imperial, and ultimately an estate worthy of the Ogden Family name, but also a place one could call home.
Instead of arriving via the front entrance, Bertie slowly circled the higher floors of the house, the whine of the Cleansweep reduced to a light hum, until he found himself alongside the terrace attached to his room.
Hovering above the terrace, he gently lowered himself onto the balcony floor. With his feet firmly on the ground he swiftly grabbed the still levitating broom, and hurriedly entered his room.
As he entered, the chamber promptly began to brighten. Wizarding homes had no need for Edison's electric light, even the common flame was only used out of a sense of loyalty toward tradition and grandeur. In well-crafted Magi households, the room's magic recognizing the consciousness of the occupant would swiftly animate the appropriate enchantment, blanketing the space in an illuminating light.
Upon entering, Bertie took a moment to observe the room around him. One would conclude they were a rather snug set of chambers for a scion of the wealthy house Ogden, but for Bertie it was perfect. He roomed in the smallest of the manor's rooms which excluding room to walk, primarily comprised of a single cot bed, an antique bureau that once belonged to a distant ancestor, a wardrobe, ensuite bathroom, terrace and lastly a bookshelf, compact yet filled to the brim with scrolls, journals and tomes, extensively curated by the 16-year-old. When asked, he would call his spartan quarters a choice, one made with a resounding declaration to his parents, stating that "A room ought to be a sanctuary, A refuge from the world, not a replacement for it. It should house everything one needs to feel comfort and nothing more than but a little space to pace." An odd proclamation for a child of 11 years to make but one that was met with little resistance from his guardians. It had been his room ever since.
Bertie could here the soothing sounds of water emanating from the ensuite and released a sigh of relaxation. It appeared his House Elf had taken the liberty of running a bath for his master no doubt tired from his long flight and requiring a refresher before his night out. Bertie banished his broomstick into the cupboard and walked toward the restroom, wondering how he would ever cope without his loyal companion.
After a long soak, Bertie emerged from the bath invigored. Indeed, the magic infused water, acquired from the hot springs of mystical China had worked wonders. Bertie returned from the ensuite to find his progress impeded. Standing before him akin to a suit of armour hanging of a ghostly muggle mannequin, was his attire for the evening. Bertie walked toward the ensemble and observed it with great interest. His garb had been one of the few points of contention between Bertie and his servant. While Scotchy was more free spirited then others of his kind he was still a house elf. A house elf instilled with the centuries old virtues and traditions of propriety. This resulted in a very strict dress code that Bertie simply refused to abide, stating that fashion was one of his strongest suits and that the elf should learn to appreciate his master's style. While the elf couldn't outright prevent his master from wearing his choice of wardrobe, that didn't stop him from misplacing, hiding or outright destroying pieces of clothing he found offensive when his master was unawares. Eventually Bertie spent an entire day educating the house elf on the logic behind his fashion choices, and after much negotiation the two had reached an agreement that managed to satisfy one's requirement for flair and the others for refinement.
The cloth that stood before Bertie currently, was the result of that truce. It consisted of a white silk collared shirt, weaved by the lovely mistresses of Malkins, followed by a dark green velvet vest, decorated with a subtle but stylish floral pattern. The bottoms consisted of dark grey pants and pointed toe black boots to finish, with the entire ensemble being guarded by a dark maroon frock coat.
Bertie was smitten.
"Well aren't you simply dashing!" Bertie said with a grin.
The spectral figure stood unmoving.
"Well hop on then." He said expectantly.
With a wave of his wand arm, Bertie banished the robe had worn out of the bath into his wardrobe, positioning himself with his arms and legs outstretched. As he did so the ghostly the ghostly attire lost its form, instead gliding onto his, weaving through his arms and legs and onto his body, fastening buttons and tightening belts as it went, finishing with a final flurry of his coat as if magic itself was pleased with its accomplishment.
The young heir then moved toward the mirror that adorned his wall, eager to inspect his appearance.
Bertie cut a slightly figure. His build was slender yet muscular and at a notable 6ft 2 he stood head and shoulders over many of his peers without looking spindly. He carried an attractive visage, with strong handsome features and a warm smile which in tandem with his baby blue eyes and messy brown hair made him quite the catch.
He smiled at his reflection, pleased with his handy work.
"I say! I do clean up well." Bertie said with a cheeky grin. Muggles would consider talking to a mirror to be an act of extreme vanity. They were unaware of course that in the wizarding world, mirrors spoke back.
"Could be better." A bored voice rang back.
Bertie mimed having his heart impaled. "Oh, fair mirror on the wall, how come you wound me so?" He cried helplessly.
"Oh, come now, darling…" The mirror spoke back in a sultry tone.
"Your appearance is adequate but there is much room for improvement."
Bertie put on his best mummer's voice.
"Oh, I beg thee fair mirror whose surface casts the most elegant of reflections. Do not allow me to be cast out into the world in such a state. I beseech thee for thine guidance and aid on thy's quest."
The mirror vibrated, clearly giddy at having praise showered upon it.
"Oh well. Only because you implore so sweetly."
"Now let me get a good look at you, head up now, stand straight!" After a few minutes' deliberation and several more minutes of scolding, the mirror set about making numerous alterations to Bertie's appearance, combing his hair, adjusting his clothes. Several more minutes and the addition of some subtle charms later, the mirror spoke.
"There. Don't you look ravishing!" The mirror said, clearly pleased with her work.
Bertie thanked his favorite mirror, promising a sound polish on his return.
The son of Ogden then headed for the door.
"Time to paint the town!" He said with a laugh.
Authors Notes (I know these authors notes are a mile long, but if you are a pre-existing follower or even a newcomer simply wanting to get caught up, I implore you to give it a read as it goes through a great deal. I shall also be publishing this on my profile.)
Hello guys and gals. I am back! I know, I know you have questions, and I hope you will be willing to hear my justifications and allow me to explain the reasons behind my long hiatus and sudden return.
The year has been rough. I thought after a year of university I would have gotten the hang of things. Year 2 seemed to have been made aware of my confidence and set about making it a priority to disabuse me of that notion. It's been a whirlwind and my extremely naïve belief that I would be able to get a chapter out every two weeks got shattered almost instantly. It wasn't until the mid-semester break that I managed to find the time to start writing again, and I did. I wrote for two weeks straight and collated about twenty thousand words and yet I couldn't bring myself to publish any of it. I simply wasn't satisfied with the content yet. I desperately wanted to let those of you who are nice enough to follow me know that I didn't throw in the towel and that I was still working but fanfiction has a rule where authors are not allowed to make postings that are just updates. I then thought I would post the update on my profile but I realised that I hadn't informed you all to look toward my profile for updates in the first place which meant that most of you would have still been in the dark. It was a cock up on my part and i do want to say how terribly sorry I am, and I hope I haven't disillusioned you to the prospect of enjoying my content. I will endeavor to do better going forward, I promise you. And yes, there will be a forward to go to.
This brings me to the second potential query, which is what the hell is this new story and where is the Black Son update. There is a reasoning behind this as well. While I wasn't actively writing Black Son over the year, I was pondering it. It's something I do constantly in my head and its what keeps me engaged with the material. The thing is, is that over the year as I was mentally drafting it, the inherent problems of the story started to become the prevalent. The fact is, is that I had got wrapped up in my own grandiosity and the story was suffering for it. It just didn't feel like Harry Potter anymore and that was a sad realization for me. Now there is nothing wrong with Fics that stray from the parameters of the source material, but my belief is, is that if you intend to make your potter world different, you need to go all out.
I think of a fic like "Emperor" where the author has written the lore going all the way back to WW2. Its because he has flushed out the world in such immense detail that a story as grandiose as that doesn't flounder under its own weight. The problem with the Black Son wasn't the story or even the lore which I still think is really cool. The problem was, that I didn't go all out. I didn't want to, I still wanted to write a story that felt like Harry Potter. But you can't write a story like that and implement the grand pieces of lore I had intended without cracks and tears in the canvas of the story becoming apparent. I had realised this around the half year mark and set about rewrite. That's what I spent the two weeks doing. I stripped the story down to its essence and built it back up in a way that I really liked and felt was grounded and respectful of the source material. The fic however just wasn't coming together, I was at the end of the chapter and I just couldn't finish it. Despite knowing exactly where the story was meant to go and what I was meant to do, it just didn't click. So, I am afraid to say that I have placed that story on Hiatus. I haven't abandoned it! I love Orion's story and I do certainly want to tell it, just not right now. Perhaps when I gain some chops as a writer, I can give myself another crack at that particular whip of a story.
So now what's this new yarn I am weaving? This was a story I had planted the seed for ages ago and had forgotten about. It's a story I am fond of telling for several reasons. First and foremost is the character. I love the idea of Bertie so much, mainly because he isn't important. The fact is Harry and to a larger extent even Orion both have destinies that shape who they are, dominating every aspect of their existence. Bertie is so brilliant because he is normal. He doesn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders, and while he shall no doubt be privy to some grand events, he is at heart just a wizard intent on living happy existence. He wants to have fun and because he is in such an entitled position, one of simple, wealthy pureblood mundanity, his problems aren't world ending, rather they are simply the problems of a well-meaning young man who just isn't interested in a greater calling.
That's the story I want to tell. And while Bertie doesn't have the luxury of a dark lord breathing down his neck yet. He gets to experience thrills of an altogether different sort and as a result will experience sides of the wizarding world, we as readers sadly never get to touch in the Potter Books.
Now to get a couple of things straight. The setting. Again, I had planned this story long ago and the Fantastic Beasts films hadn't come out yet. Now I have tried my best to incorporate the new lore into the fic and I have largely been met with success. However, the… let's say interesting second film has thrown a bunch of crap in the air and I don't think that its current state is coherent enough for me to work with. So, this is a heads up. I shall follow the story from the first Beasts film and the vast majority of the second but Areola Dumbledore or whatever he is called and some of the other stuff, I intend to disregard and instead substitute the widely assumed head canon of the HP community.
Second the posting schedule going forward. Now as mentioned previously, it seems I am incapable at present to do two chapters a month, now if I do get stuff done early then sure I might pop em up as a bonus but the vast majority of the time you shall be receiving chapters once a month. Now if circumstances dictate that the once a month deadline cannot be met, due to things like life, then please check my profile for an update on the situation. I will keep you guys in the loop, I swear. Another thing, my life is going to be pretty busy the next couple of months. Christmas season is here and that means very little time to write. I don't think it shall be a problem in regard to the next chapter but a warning just in case. Also, I am travelling to the UK next month so there will probably be a delay there too. I shall post an update on the profile closer to the date regardless, but I am just letting you know beforehand.
Now I know this chapter is a short one and ends kinda abruptly. The original chapter was much larger, but it was taking to long to write and I really wanted to give you all a taste of something, so I cut this first bit together and posted it. The subsequent chapter postings will be larger I promise, and these authors notes will be smaller too I swear! I just needed to give you insight into where this ship is heading, and I do hope you will all do me the honour of joining me for the voyage. Thank you to all those who have been following me, I do hope you will stick around, and a big welcome to all newcomers, I do hope you folks like the content and feel inclined to join the gang.
Please feel free to ask any questions or leave a comment. Hearing from you all means a great deal. So, until next time, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!