The House of Black
Prologue
"En stirps nobilis et gens antiquissima Black".*
That's what she would always tell me if I ever behaved less than was expected of me. She would drag me to that awful tapestry and recite to me our family's noble past... And our great and destined future. Then she would say those words, those awful words, as if our history was something to be proud of. She would say, "Crescentia, my horrid girl, this is your family." Her awful rasp of a voice would rake across my ears, like nails on a chalk board. "Your great grandfather stood for purity of blood and the honor and power of such. Your great aunt fought with Grindelwald himself, even to her death. Your father has only ever served the ministry in his efforts to cleanse our world of such filth as the mud-bloods." I would nod my head, knowing all this to be true, but never out of pride for my family and their ideals. I would not look my mother in the eye, for she was very much a predator who might pounce at the slightest bit of challenge.
It was then, when she had recited the only bit of history she knew that she would put her hands on her hips and shake her head at me. I always thought she looked like a crow when she did that. As if she were fluffing out her wings in exasperation. "Why must you be such a horrid girl?" She would ask. "Why can you not be like your sister Walburga?"
Because Wallie is a toad, I would think to myself. And that she was, my dearest sister was almost an exact likeness of our mother. The only difference really was that Wallie sometimes would play with me. Walburga was a year older than I and had already received her letter to Hogwarts. Had already been sorted. Had already made top of her class.
In just a few short weeks, it would be my turn. Soon my mother would be buying my first broom. My owl. My very own cauldron.
Soon I would be going to Hogwarts.
But I would not make my mother proud.
I would not be top of my class.
In fact, academically, I would not even compare to my older sister.
But I would begin something in our family history.
Something that could not and shall not be stopped. Soon I would begin to show the world exactly what a Black was made of.
No. My mother would not be proud of me.
Nor will the descendants of Black know my name.
Little did I know, at the age of 10, that I would change the Wizarding World forever.
My name is Crescentia Maribeth Black, "En stirps nobilis et gens antiquissima Black".
* From Harry Potter Wikia, —Latin inscription on the Black family tree tapestry; "Behold the offspring of noble birth and the nation of the most ancient of Black".
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