Paint It Black

Dear "Daughter"

Because of you my family is ruined. Now I am dying. Remember the promise you made me, half-blood.
Bring my grandson to my deathbed.

-W

XXX

Corvus Blackstone often thought, if someone wrote a biography on his life what would it say? He was certain that his years at Hogwarts would be impressive. He was after all the mastermind behind an entire underground monopoly. But what about his life before the Salesmen or even Hogwarts?

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Last year when Corvus returned from Hogwarts, his mother was front and center on the platform. She made sure that Corvus didn't wonder for even a split second about where she could be. Corvus had appreciated it. He felt children left waiting listlessly for their parents were an awkward sight.

But now it was the end of his second-year and his mother wasn't visible in the crowd of parents. The Salesmen wished each other a good summer and split. Louis, Anwar and Jeremy's parents were waiting for them. Max was going to take a train back to Manchester, where he lived. "Want me to wait with you?" he asked Corvus.

Corvus hated the thought of being a charity case. He shook his head. "She's on her way, no doubt. Probably got held up at a meeting with a client," he said loftily. Max however, didn't buy it and instead rested his things by Corvus's.

"I have time," he told him. "Wouldn't want you kidnapped." They stood watching all the other students either be greeted by their parents or disappear through the barrier alone to return home. Corvus checked his silver pocket watch. She's only six minutes late, he thought to himself.

Draco Malfoy came over flanked, as usual, by Crabbe and Goyle. Behind them were their parents. Malfoy's parents were the easiest to identify, because they looked exactly like their son. On the most part Malfoy looked the most like his father. His mother was quite good-looking with long blonde hair neatly held back and pale blue eyes.

Corvus was able to note her eyes because Mrs. Malfoy was staring intently at him while Mr. Malfoy conversed with another father. She looked alarmed. Corvus wondered why Mrs. Malfoy was staring at him like that. Probably because she thinks I'm some filthy orphan, he decided wryly.

"Wanted to wish you the best for the summer," said Malfoy. He was speaking to both Max and Corvus. "Next year we'll get Gryffindor back for stealing the House Cup. Potter's just a one-trick pony, I say."

"We'll see," smirked Corvus. He had enjoyed watching Potter and Malfoy's rivalry all year.

"We can't rely on Potter messing up. Certain people in our House will have to step up if we want the Cup back," said Max, critically eying Crabbe and Goyle.

"My thoughts exactly, Max," agreed Corvus. "How many points did you two pull together for Slytherin?"

Crabbe and Goyle looked blankly at each other. "Uhhh…" one of them practically drooled.

"Well, I got us at least twenty points," said Malfoy proudly.

"Then maybe you should take some time teaching your pooches some of your tricks," replied Corvus coolly. "Or find other friends, wouldn't want anything to rub off on you."

Malfoy embarrassingly regarded his friends. It slowly dawned on Crabbe and Goyle that they had been insulted. It was amusing to watch their blank expressions turn into confusion, then hurt, and finally anger. They could have taken Corvus and Max; neither of them was built for fistfights like them. But they wouldn't. They would be complicating their lives horribly if they did. "Anyway, I've got to go, mother has an entire meal waiting for me at home," Malfoy told them. "I'll see you both next year then."

Mrs. Malfoy's eyes were still glued on Corvus. She only stopped staring at him when she past through the barrier. It was strange, but Corvus assumed it was because she was obsessively watchful of her son.

Just as the Malfoys left the platform a black dart pierced through the barrier. It soared through the air, high above the heads of everyone. It screeched. Corvus smiled, recognizing what this black thing really was. It was a peregrine falcon.

The bird swooped down, as if it was going to strike prey. It was only two feet away from hitting the cement floor. The bird pulled up effortlessly and in a blink of an eye morphed into a woman. She wore a black pantsuit with high heels. Corvus was completely unfazed, but Max took a half step back in awe.

"About time, mum."

"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart," his mother hugged him. She was a young mother. She had Corvus when she was only seventeen. She had dark hair and dark almond shaped eyes. Her hair was kept at shoulder length and it was pin straight. She looked over at Max, "Are you one of Corvy's friends?"

"Mum," Corvus groaned. His mother ruffled his hair. Max laughed at the nickname. "I've told you about him, it's Max."

"Yes, Maxwell Love," Max offered his hand. Corvus's mother took it, shaking it firmly.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Corvus truly raves about you, Max," she grinned. "My name is Leandra Blackstone, please call me Leandra."

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For his whole life, from what he could clearly remember, it had always been him and his mother. Leandra explained that Corvus's father was killed during the First Wizarding War. After his death she fled England with Corvus for safety, leaving everything behind. She assured her son that there wasn't anything left in England after his father's death.

Leandra took Corvus away from it all. They went to Vancouver, Canada. Since they had nothing but a small bag of personal belongings, it was a struggle for the first few years. Leandra worked as a crafter, a magical architect. Magical buildings were complex structures, dangerous because of their unpredictable nature. An empty hallway could devour its creator if it felt it wasn't beautiful enough. Take Hogwarts for example, the stairwells rearranged themselves periodically when they got bored. In the wizarding world, it's a literal thing if a house or building has 'personality'. A crafter knew how to control magical constructs, and battle their personalities if they need to.

Leandra had to balance work and raising Corvus alone. She had Corvus come with her on business trips or with her on development sites. There were a lot of nannies. They never lasted for long though. Corvus and his mother always moved. Every job that was available she greedily grabbed at. They moved around a lot, rarely staying in the same place for more than two years.

Eventually, by the time Corvus was six, Leandra had built a good reputation as a crafter. She began to choose her projects, her pay was raised and their lifestyle became more luxurious. It has continued to improve, Corvus often bragged about the exotic locations him and his mother travel routinely to. They owned many apartments and houses across the map that they rented out for extra income. They only stayed at five star hotels.

Having been so close to his mother while she worked, Corvus grew up wanting to be a crafter himself. He showed potential. His drawings were very impressive and his mother often complimented him on 'thinking' like a crafter.

His mother was all he knew. A lot of times he tried thinking back to his father. He died when Corvus was just over a year old, but he was convinced that if he concentrated hard enough he could remember him. Not really his face, but his presence. Corvus found that as the older he got, it was harder to conjure his father back up.

Three months before his seventh birthday however, Corvus did meet one estranged family member. The meeting only lasted two hours. His mother returned to England for Corvus to meet this family member. He had been at his grandmother's deathbed.

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This grandmother lived alone in a big house in London. It had four floors, and a large carpet hanging on the wall with a picture of a tree. It was a dark house, the lights were all turned off except for a few dying candles. When Leandra brought him to this house, Corvus was left downstairs for a few minutes while his mother went somewhere upstairs. While waiting, Corvus walked along the walls, counting how many times his hands covered the length or how many steps he took to one end to the other. He loved to count. Later he would write down the numbers, just to add and subtract them for fun.

Leandra came back down the stairs, frowning. His mother didn't look too sharp back then, she was just beginning to get rich. Her hair was long and rather frizzy, it was pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes looked tired. They had left Florence, where they were living at the time, in the dead of the night. A letter had been delivered to Leandra, and immediately after they left for England.

His mother knelt before him and combed Corvus's thick hair neatly. A house-elf slowly came down the stairs, his eyes shined excitedly at seeing Corvus. "My little master has returned!" he gasped. Corvus looked to his mother.

"Mummy, who's that?"

"Grandma's house-elf, Corvus," she explained. She sighed gravely. "He's going to bring you upstairs to meet grandmother. Grandmother is very sick-"

"If she's sick, why'd she invite us over?" Corvus made a face. "Where has she been? I thought we had no family left."

"We don't… except for this grandmother and it was complicated, dear, very complicated," she told him. She gently removed a wavy strand of hair from his face. "A lot of people had to hide during the war, to stay alive, you see? And grandmother was one of them. But now she's very sick and she wants to see you."

"Is she dying?" asked Corvus. He was a clever kid. Leandra nodded sadly. Corvus frowned. He hadn't figured out what death meant, but the idea of a dying woman waiting for him sort of creeped him out. "Will you come with me, mummy?"

She stood up and took Corvus's hand. "Of course, dear."

The house-elf led them upstairs and to the right. They entered a large room. It was a circular bedchamber. The tall, thin windows were shut and the heavy, dark curtains drawn. The dark wallpaper lost its appearance in the shadowiness of the room. There was a large king-sized bed in the middle across from the door. The air was thick and foreboding. Corvus squirmed..

Leandra brought him to the bedside of his dying grandmother. She was perched up by a lot of pillows. Her salt and pepper hair was long and laid all about her wrinkled, grave face. Her eyelids were shut, but they fluttered open to reveal similar grey eyes. But she didn't have the green shade his did. Her thin lips pulled into a smile. Her teeth were rotten. Corvus hated the smell around her. It was the smell of death covered by expensive perfume.

"Corvus," his grandmother croaked. Her hand lifted, searching for his. Leandra nudged him. He let her grab hold of his hand. Her grip was tight and her touch cold.

Corvus didn't know what to say or do. His grandmother covered his hand with hers, smiling dreamily. "Good boy… heir to the proudest… pureblood-" She coughed suddenly, it sounded painful and disgusting. Corvus grimaced, pulling away slightly but his grandmother wasn't going to let go of him. "Handsome, handsome boy…"

Her eyes closed and her head settled back again. There was a heavy silence. But then she started speaking again, but it was all nonsense. "Filthy Mudbloods ruined my boys… All blood-traitors get caught, I said so… Orion? Orion lets have people over… Yes, my sons are handsome, very handsome…" Her voice trailed off. Leandra placed a hand on Corvus's shoulder. Was she done?

Corvus tried to get his hand back, but this only knocked her back into reality. Her eyes opened again. She studied Corvus, as if she couldn't recognize him from earlier. She applied pressure to his little hand. "Corvus," her tongue barely moved. Her eyes were locked on him and he couldn't look away. Her grip loosened.

Her eyes weren't seeing him anymore. They weren't aware. She was completely still. She was lifeless. Her touch was stone cold. She was dead.

Corvus snatched his hand away, his heart beating wildly. Leandra immediately wrapped her arms around her son. "Corvus," she whispered into his ear, "It's okay. She wasn't in pain, okay? You saw how happy she was. It's okay. Don't be afraid."

This is why Corvus can see the Thestrals.

X
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Leandra and Corvus were speeding away from London in their red, sleek BMW. Leandra had several cars. She enjoyed luxury vehicles especially when she fused a little magic with them. Corvus liked taking car rides, but only on the Autobahn or freeway, where it was open road. They were heading for the Ferry to take them across the English Channel. They had a villa in Baden-Baden, Germany they enjoyed using for summers.

Corvus was slowly drifting off, but Leandra interrupted him with a random comment. "Draco Malfoy's started school then?"

One eye peaked open. "Yeah, so?"

"Noticed his family that's all."

"Didn't think you'd know them."

"Recognized them from when I went to Hogwarts," she said. "Wasn't friends with them, doubt they'd remember me. It was interesting seeing them again. Draco in Slytherin then?"

"It runs in their family doesn't it?"

"That doesn't mean anything, where you're sorted can be coincidental."

"If that's true then the Sorting Hat is rather pointless, mum."

"Tradition usually is," she retorted. "How is Draco though? Do you two speak?"

Corvus shrugged, "We're on speaking terms, yeah. He keeps himself busy torturing Harry Potter, seems to find a purpose in that."

Corvus's favorite song started to play on the radio. The Rolling Stones' Paint it Black. He turned the volume up. His mother watched the road, though her brow was subtly frowned. He never stopped to think, how did his mother know Draco's name?