Hey this is the second chapter, hopefully the first one was well understood.
Chapter two: Remember, Reveal and Regret
The frost had hit, an icy coat covering everything, devouring life. A cold plague. It was a week until Walpurgisnacht day, the famous European holiday on the first of May when witches and wizards celebrated the first of spring. More and more young wizards had begun to tease muggles with exploding parcels, biting letter boxes, and boiling rain. Not to mention the Indian port key that lead across roads and in front of Muggle vehicles so they disappeared.
All in all Mr. Weasley had come home furious every day, but today he had been invited to a small work party, then he came home. Drunk. Grace, Fred and George never saw the clock change Mr. Weasley's spoon to home, nor did they hear the back door slowly creak open as they washed, rinsed and dried the dishes. What they did hear was the slow whisper as Arthur spoke, "Upstairs to bed boys, the bitch will finish." Mr. Weasley said heatedly, Fred shock his head. "We can help-" He didn't finish, Mr. Weasley rose a drunken hand and began slapping George across the face. A tear shed down his face as he whimpered in pain. A large red handprint slowly turning to bluish-purple on his cheek.
Mr. Weasley saw Grace walk towards the door and he locked it with a quick charm to stop her escaping. Then he cast a silencing spell, he knew Molly wouldn't come down stairs she was too obedient, but he was worried about the boys, Charlie especially. That childish idiot would surely tell if he were to see. Grace crawled under the table hiding from her father.
This always happened at to her. For a long time Grace thought she was just having nightmares about her father. It wasn't until Christmas Eve the previous year that Grace saw her father, wand out, in front of her whispering oblivate. She remembered though, his cold eyes bearing down. She never knew why the memory charm didn't work on her.
George was yelling for help, squealing like an animal, as Mr. Weasley struck him again with his belt. George tried to shield the unconscious and bleeding body of his twin as the belt smacked his thigh. The buckle leaving red imprints on his skin. Fred whimpered in curdled pain on the floor. His head was heavily bleeding from a cut above his left eye that he must have got when his head hit the stone kitchen floor. Grace watched the scene as behind her the tap that was still turned on, began to overflow.
The hot murky water washed over the side of the sink and began to flood the floor. As Grace watched from under the table she felt the sudden pickle of hot water wash against her leg. She yelped and looked behind her. The water was pouring across the floor. The stone floor gleamed as the plates in the sink began to rise from the flow of water. A crash suddenly sounded as a plate fell over the sink and onto the floor. Grace, ignoring the yells of her brother, ran across the room. The hot water splashed and hit her skin; she began to wince as the water ran down her leg. Her skin raw from constant beatings. Suddenly a sharp scream exploded from Fred. The flow of water had hit his bleeding figure. The scream made Grace turn violently in shock. She slipped on the floor. With a sharp intake of air she fell into the water. She screamed burning water hit her pale skin and she screamed in unbecoming anger. But with forced frustration Grace grabbed the edge of the counter. Hot water poured over her skin but she managed to pull herself up. Leaning over the counter Grace finally turned off the tap and drained the sink, plunging her hands into the water for a final time. The magic in the kitchen managed to suck all of the leaked water down the drain as well. Leaving Fred, Grace and the floor completely dry. Except for a red stain of blood that was now resting on Fred's shoulder. "Daddy, please. Dad it hurts." Yelled George as Mr. Weasley bent Georges arm back and around his back. CRACK. George screamed in an uncontrollable beat as his arm was snapped in half. The bone connection his elbow to his wrist was poking against his pale skin in an attempt to break through and tear his muscle. Mr. Weasley began to panic. Finally he had gone too far. "Fred?" Grace said softly as she walked up behind Mr. Weasley and tugged on his jumper. Mr. Weasley was panicky. He lunged at the children with his wand and with a harsh blow of his wand sent them all into a rush of darkness. Shit, he thought as he levitated them into the basement and slammed the heavy door. Locking it on his way to his room. With a final glance at the roof as he lead in his bed, he thought, I'm going to be rich again when the Girls Gringotts vault has passed to Dumbledore. He said he would give us half of the contents of the vault and their must be thousands of Gallons in it. It was her father's fault we weren't given the gold in the first place. When she's dead and gone, and the boys are finally and permanently oblivated; then I will have power enough to murder those that tormented me in school because of my family name. I will murder all those pureblood bastards starting with the last of Potters stupid little group.
AAA
It was the 23rd of April. The April showers were beating the floor. Draven couldn't remember how long he had been sat on the step, outside the kitchen door. But he knew that no one would destroy his thoughts here, because a thick wall of black berry bushes covered it. Which Sister Megan planted years ago to stop the children from sneaking into the kitchen and tearing apart the cupboards filled with treats.
Draven could hear the children running around indoors, causing havoc and laughing as they played games like hide and seek. He could see the cars through the bushes and an old man cycling past. He was completely relaxed, which is why the sudden scream shocked him. He stood up, and looked around expecting to see a little child, but there was no one. Draven inhaled the misty air. Someone had defiantly screamed.
"-Stupid hatchling cannot see my pain.-" said a hushed voice, which startled Draven. He looked around, a small branch in the bush twitched. Draven took a closer peek and saw an icy blue snake caught in the thorns of the branch. Draven extended his hand, towards the bleeding creature.
"-I shall bite you! Hatchling,-" snarled the snake, causing Draven to jump back. He could hear the snake, the words, and the language. Draven wondered if the snake could understand him, back.
"- Do you need help?-" asked Draven politely, manors always won friends.
The snake turned gleefully, "-oh, a speaker! I am sorry young master,-" The snake hissed excitedly, his scales glistened like snow on his back. His black eyes fixed on Draven, as Draven carefully knelt beside the bush. "-I will free you, ice scales, from this painful cage.-"
Draven didn't wait for a replied; he just carefully released the snake, who hissed deeply in relief.
"- I am forever grateful, master of speakers-" he said. Draven shifted uncomfortably, since when was he a master.
"-Please, I am no master, I am just an orphan.-" hissed Draven truthfully, as the snake slithered in front of him.
"-Draven is my name, what is yours little snake-"
"-My names, humble orphan Draven-" The snake said, "-you are wishing to know my names?-"
"-Yes, if that's okay,-" said Draven suddenly wondering if he had offended the little creature.
The snakes head tilted down and his body coiled, he looked like he was thinking.
"-My names Draven is unknown to me,-" replied the snake sadly, Draven stood still, a feeling of guilt washed over him. He was now cold from the small shower of rain that had now started, he was also hungry he had lost track of time. The smells of ham drifted through the doorway that was slightly open.
Draven inhaled, and his stomach growled. The snakes' tiny forked tongue twitched and his eyes narrowed.
"-ham, eat it. Eat it, hungry-" the snake breathed before slithering under Draven towards the kitchen door.
"-Wait ice scale's!-" Draven begged, he didn't want the beautiful reptile to get caught in the kitchen. Beth and Issy would scream and Sister Megan would run in with her broom. Draven new this because of last year when a stray dog had wondered in at dinner; utter chaos had erupted.
"-orphan Draven is there danger. The humans do they hurt?-" whispered the snake, cautiously. Draven thought of William and Charlie.
"-Yes they hurt, evil children.-" growled Draven, a venomous spit curled in his mind. Sometimes he couldn't control his anger towards people and he did things. It was part of his gift. He could make things move without touching them; Annabelle's snow globe didn't fall off her shelf on its own, the day after she broke Draven's trainers. He could make things appear in front of him; James twenty pounds he got for Christmas hadn't flown from his pocket into Draven's hand, by its self, the following day James had pushed Draven down the stairs. Draven could also get into people's heads. Draven couldn't control the other gifts; they only happened when he was scared or angry, but Draven could get into any bodies mind at any time.
It was this particular gift that Draven scared the adults with, the ones that came to adopt him. He could always hear them: "I thought he would be bigger, he looks smart, what a stupid name, I wonder if he plays football, beautiful eyes, cute little kid, I wonder if he likes dogs, will he get along with Danny... All of them the same. Judging him, testing him, almost like buying clothes in a shop looking to see if he fit. So he answered them. Yes he knew it was cruel, but one day when someone accepted what he could do, Draven would leave the orphanage far behind.
Draven picked up the little snake. Its small body was smooth, Draven stroked the snake gently. A soft hiss told Draven the snake didn't mind, "- wrap yourself around my wrist, under my sleeves-"Draven whispered.
The snake obeyed as Draven walked silently through the door.
Beth and Katy, a younger blond girl, were making piles of sandwiches for lunch. The smell of ham, salad and fresh bread infused the kitchen, Draven inhaled. Draven could see their hands, scraping butter into the bread, and cutting up tomatoes, lettuce and ham. Ham. A huge leg of ham hung from the pantry ceiling, swinging gently.
Draven's face became still, as did his body. Stone still. His breathing stopped. Then he imagined the ham from the insides of the sandwiches falling into his pockets. The slight movement and new weight confirmed he had done it. The snake hissed softly as the smell hit him, '- your magic is gold, young master you are powerful-'
Magic, the sudden explanation hit Draven so hard he nearly fell back. Magic is what he could do. It was such a simple answer, and slightly farfetched, but it was right. What other children could do what he could do, none that he had met.
Gold magic was that a type of magic? Draven would have to ask the snake once they were in Draven's room, safe from little children and annoying teenagers.
As Draven crept through the kitchen, he past Beth who looked at him with a pathetic apologetic smile. "You okay, Draven?" She asked.
Draven nodded, he could feel the snake curling tightly around his wrist. Beth smiled and pulled Draven into a hug, Draven stood emotionless, the hugs were a reassurance to the younger orphans, nothing more.
When Beth pulled away she had a lot of annoyance over her face.
"Draven, you're soaked to the bone! You haven't been outside in this have you?"
Draven shifted uncomfortable, then nodded.
"Draven, upstairs now, I'll send you up some dry clothes." Draven smiled at the easy escape. He ran out the kitchen nearly slipping on the polished floor. The children had all retreated into the bathrooms to wash before the lunch bell. Draven could heat the scampering of feet and small whines as water and soap attack the grimy hands of the other orphans. Draven passed the bathroom a trail of water behind him as it dropped from his damp clothes, then up the staircase and into his room. Although small the familiar sight was a huge comfort.
Draven pushed his sleeve up and released the small blue snake. The snake slithered into the bed and pulled at the itchy covers, entwining the threads. "-Don't do that-!" Draven said he could almost feel himself hissing.
It felt nice, slow and soft like something trickling off the top of his tongue.
As soon as the snake stopped Draven began to smile, he was talking to a snake and the snake was talking back. Although it would be much better if he had a name that Draven could use. Draven thought he gazed upon the snake who hissed at the admiration. He had a silky long body and a pale blue glow, and in detail small black lines twisting around him, like thread.
Draven beamed, "-I have a name for you if you want it?-" Draven questioned.
The snake took a moment before looking up, "-young master wants to gives me a name? Is it a good name?-" the snake flicked out its forked tongue. He's probably thinking of the ham thought Draven.
"Well, if you tell me what you think of the name you can have the ham." Draven said, the snake shifted uncomfortable glaring at Draven.
"-You was speaking in human tongue.-"hissed the snake impatiently.
"- I am sorry, I said if you tell me what you think of the names you may have some ham.-" Hissed Draven slowly making sure he kept in his snake voice.
The snake nodded his small head in reply; Draven shifted thinking if the snake would like the name. "-Well, the name is Blackwater,-" Draven whispered unsure of his choice. In his mind it suited the snake as his black markings looked like little black waves on a blue ocean.
The snake nodded considerately, '-my name is Blackwater,-' he hissed softly.
Draven remembering his promise took the ham from his pocket and started nibbling on an edge, tearing parts off for Blackwater.
After they had eaten, Blackwater curled up in Draven's pillow case and fell asleep. Leaving Draven alone, to wonder about what Blackwater had said in the garden... Magic.
Draven always knew he was different, but not just because of his gifts. Draven had dreams about very odd and particular things.
In his dreams, Draven saw his family, two men and a beautiful woman; but there was another dream, a dream Draven never mentioned. He saw an old man with horrible twinkling blue eyes, along with a red headed woman with vibrant, green eyes. They looked down at him muttering and the old man made cold red lights sting Draven's body, this used to make Draven wake suddenly in the night screaming. But now it was the second part of the dream, the red headed woman was holding him and shaking him, "it's your fault, and we should have never taken you." Draven's dream ended when a blue light hit him. This is when he woke up screaming his whole body burning.
He would tell himself it was only a dream, but it always seemed so real.
Draven heard a small tap at the door, and Draven jumped from his thoughts.
Draven shifted from his bed and opened the door to reveal Beth, who was holding some new clothes.
"I got these from Gordon, they should fit you." She said smiling. She put the clothes on his bed then, turned to face him.
"Draven don't go outside again, alright?" Draven began to smirk, "don't want me to get wet again?" He asked sarcastically.
"You're not taking me seriously." She scowled.
"It's just a bit of rain,"
"No it's not the rain I'm talking about, Williams out looking for you." The fear in her eyes shone. And Draven new she had finally admitted it to herself, the fact that Draven was different.
"Speak." Draven commanded the older girl, who sat there looking at him.
"I should have realized it earlier; you're not like us. The things you can do, there not normal Draven." She said. Draven tensed.
"Normal, define normal." Draven spat, as Beth slowly moved away.
"Normal, is acting like a child not an adult, normal, is not knowing everything, normal, and is not disappearing like a..." She finally believed the others, "freak."
Most children would have cried but Draven just winced slightly as the icy feeling travelled through him.
"Get out." he ordered.
"No Draven I'm sorry I didn't mean it." She cried, Draven didn't listened he wanted her to know what it felt like to be alone.
So he looked into her eyes, and fell into her mind. He sieved through her thoughts.
Her mind was like bubbles, memories all floating around, first day of school, riding a bike, meeting Draven, watching a movie with her friends, laughing with her friend's parents. All the happy memories were floating at the top of her mind.
Draven spotted a dark cluster of bubbles at the bottom of her mind. He reached for them, getting left at the orphanage, being bullied at school, falling into the schools pond... That's right. Draven thought as he pulled the memory out of the bubble, so Beth remembered the day she nearly drowned.
After Draven felt serge of panic, he dropped out of Beth's mind leaving her to remember the day at the pond.
She yelled for a bit, thrashing her arms Draven found it very amusing. Then, once the memory faded she stared at Draven in horror, as he smirked.
"Leave," he said, she didn't need telling again.
Draven thought he would feel guilt as she left but there was nothing, no emotion.
Draven in anger glared at the pile of books in the room, until... Bang. The whole pile fell to the wooden floor. He stood up, glaring at them. Remembering the exact contents of each one, he knew it wasn't normal but it made him powerful; it have him an advantage over all the other children. Power was everything.
Blackwater had said he was powerful. He said Draven had gold magic whatever that meant.
Draven lade on his bed, in the warm, his clothes still damp. He taped Blackwater gently, and then watched as the beautiful snake wound around his hand.
"- Yes Draven,-" Blackwater hissed, like the air going out of a tire.
"-Tell me about magic-" said Draven softly as he stroked Blackwater's back.
"-You have powerful magic Draven, when you turn eleven years you will get a letter to Hogwarts, the magic school.-" began Blackwater.
"-Tell me more about Hogwarts.-" said Draven, who was extremely interested.
"-All I know is that great master Slytherin serpent speaker came from there, he was a very powerful wizard the only wizard to have black magic, although Merlin had white.-" Blackwater said.
"-White magic?-" questioned Draven, his soft voice felt pure in his throat.
"-I can see a glow around you, gold magic. Those with no magic have a soft blue glow, squib have purples, and weak wizards have red or orange, good wizards have yellow, powerful wizards have gold and the most powerful have white or Black.-" hissed Blackwater, Draven beamed at him.
"-Thank you, Blackwater.-" Draven hissed before rolling around and covering himself with the thin blanket. Blackwater hissed a soft "-sleep well,-" before searching the room.
Draven was Left to think about his parents, like every orphan does when their confused or sad. He was thought about his parents and what Blackwater had said; he had guessed that there was a sea of knowledge about wizards out there somewhere, one that he wanted to find. As he lay there thinking, he accidentally fell to sleep, dreaming silently.
The next morning bought a frost. The whole street was covered in a beautiful soft gleam. Cars speed past showering the payments in a spray of water. Men in plain suits slid as they hurried into their cars. Waiting for their cars to heat up, as they scraped the ice from their windows with their sleeves.
AAA
Draconian Malfoy and his older cousin where sat at the dining room table at breakfast. It was exactly a week before the Malfoy Walpurgisnacht ball and so the adults where hectic as they slandered the house elves as the creatures contently worked to prepare the house.
Narcissa, Draconian's mother, had demanded that the boys where to retreat to the upper wing of the house that had already been cleaned. Narcissa was the younger of the black sisters by nine months, she was her father's little girl and because of that she had become devoted to her son like her father had to her.
Draconian was the light in her life when five years ago she had seen nothing but an overpowering gloom. Now she saw her son: the Malfoy heir, a beacon of intellect and the proper pureblooded son to Lucius even though he failed to see it himself.
Narcissa had left her son and nephew in the dining room eating a delicious breakfast of ham and cheese croissants that she had made that morning. Both boys where extremely polite when eating despite their age. In general, actually, both of them where as polite as an adult, Lebenth was perhaps older but her little dragon was two years younger, something his father and grandfather usually forgot.
When Narcissa re-entered the dining room at quarter to eight to escort the boys to their lessons she saw them in a frustrating game of wizard's chess. Narcissa smiled softly as she watched Draconian take two of his older brothers pieces in a swift movement. Lebenth, now without a queen and bishop, had only two pawns and his king. She watched as Lebenth gave an impatient glare at the dimly lit bored.
He was losing. He was about to lose a game of chess to a five year old that still had his queen, both rooks, both bishops and a pawn. He was fed up with this game but he hid his feelings and forced himself into his cousins mind, boastfully he thought, "I see check in three; and you, younger cousin?" Draconian smirked as he raised his hand and tapped his king on its crown.
"I see checkmate in one depending on your move. Which will hopefully take place in a matter of seconds." Lebenth snarled. He roughly placed a hand on his king and began to move his piece to the left before spotting the position of Draconian's queen that was directly waiting for Lebenth to drop his piece. He tried to put it back but Draconian said, "Tut Tut cousin, please refrain from cheating." Lebenth began to become flustered but then saw the 'no' gesture his aunt was giving him from the doorway.
With a heavy sigh, Lebenth placed his piece on the board as Draco called, "Queen to B4," Lebenth watched as his king sat stranded and was soon beheaded. Draconian laughed gleefully.
"I beat yo- I mean, well played Leb." Draconian said with a small smile forming on his face. Lebenth handed Draconian his hand and they shock politely. Lebenth smiled at his cousin's enthusiasm.
"Come on Drake, Aunt Narcissa is waiting-" before Lebenth could finish his thoughts Draconian spun around to see his mum smiling down at him. Her blond hair framing her pale face and her blue-grey eyes sparklingly intently as she took his shoulder.
"An exciting match, Draconian," His mother stated kindly as she lead him and Lebenth out of the room. Draconian let his lips twitch into a grin, "You think so?" He asked as Narcissa nodded.
"Yes my son and I am sure your tutor will love to hear of it as soon as you get into to class." Draconian pulled the hint from her sentence and with one last smile nodded and walked briskly down the hall with his cousin towards his tutor's room.
Kynenir Valerie -Stone was one of the most famous pureblood tutors in the wizarding world, and therefore the most expensive to hire. He was a vampire and aged through more than 500 century's. He was a the third son of the Valerie cult master, before he was banished for studying magic, he had a adopted son, of age six, who occasionally came with him to the manor. Kynenir, or master Stone, had dark hair, which made his skin appear more pallid than a winter moon. His bloodshot eyes were black, because the iris of a human bitten by a vampire distorted. He was a strict but caring soul and needed little blood to stay sustained due to his age. When he did feast he feasted on muggles.
Draconian and Lebenth calmly entered their tutors office which was laid out as a small classroom. In this class five times a week from eight thirty till twelve the boys were taught the theory of basic charms and transfiguration along with the history of pureblood families. Lebenth was obviously learning higher theory work however Draconian had a talent for history and worked at the same level as his cousin.
The boys sat at their desk and quietly waited for master Stone, taking out their quills and parchment in the meantime. Draconian had recently been given a beautiful peacock quill form his cousin as he had broken Draconian's last set of Raven feathered quills.
As the door in front of the cousins opened to reveal the professor Draco called in union to Lebenth's thoughts, "Good morning master Stone." The man smiled and placed his pile of books he had been levitating on the desk. All of the undead had naturally vivid mental magic so master Stone could hear Lebenth. "Good morning boys, how was your breakfast?" Lebenth smiled and thought, "Quite nice, we had croissants." Their professor smiled and replied, "Cela ne sonne bien. J'ai moi-même eu un petit déjeuner anglais complet en compagnie de vos pères. Nous parlions de votre dernier enseignement de la littérature à vous préparer pour les nombreux essais que vous écrirez à l'école." Lebenth and Draconian smiled, they had completed their lessons on the French language last term. Both boys were now fluent in all European Languages.
"Why where you discussing are knew subjects, master Stone?" Asked Draconian, the vampire smiled at the young heir. "Well, as your tutor I take it as my duty to assist you and Lebenth in your academic studies Draco. And I believe you and Lebenth are ready to leave the subject of Charms theory and begin a harder subject."
Both boys took difficulty in hiding their smiles. "Anyway, that will not be until next week for now let us carry on with your history and mine. Please get out your new books,"
Draco hurried to remove his book from his desk that had a draw in the side to store his books and parchment. He was paced with a slight run back to his desk and placed the large book on top of his parchment. The cover was jet black and in silver scrawl the title appeared letter by letter: The Sacred Thirty-One. Draco, once the writing had fully appeared, took a moment to smirk at Lebenth. Lebenth smirked back then the boys opened the book to the first page. When their tutor watched both boys focus on the first page he began to read, "The Sacred Thirty-One written by Cantankerus Nott," He paused here to make sure the boys were listening. On seeing their fixated stares he continued, "With in this novel contains a dictionary of those, whom in my eyes, have the purest of blood. Purebloods. The finished result of this novel has presented itself as a dictionary of Thirty-One names that deserve recognition and praise because of their pure magical heritage. This means that through months of careful research I have discovered which families are worthy and which are not. There are no blood traitors, half-bloods, or Mudbloods recognized in my work. For it is they who shall be our downfall." Master Stone paused here; he turned to the boys, his face stern. "I trust that you boys will not judge your friends after this topic-" Lebenth laughed in a high pitched tone that made the room drop in temperature. "Are you suggesting we befriend the unworthy,Stone?" He thought in a deadly way, as master Stone sighed, "Obviously not. However I am suggesting that you and Draco depend on your associates by your own judge not by the biased words of a young wizard who wanted to create an imprint on his society." Lebenth bowed his head in shame and nodded as his tutor carried on. "The Thirty-One families comprised of: Abbott, Avery, Black, Boles, Burke, Carrow, Corrux, Crouch, Flint, Gaunt Greengrass, Griffith, Grim, Hindes, LeRoy, Lestrange, Longbottom, Malfoy, Nott, Ollivander, Potter, Prewett, Queens, Rosier, Rouge, Rowle, Selwyn, Slughorn, Stone, Travers, Weasley-" "WEASLEY?" The boys raced into uproar Lebenth head hurt with a swell of emotion and Draco's hair flared red. "You want us to befriend a Weasley?" Lebenth thought as he stood up, face burning with rage as he through his ink across the floor. "No, Lebenth. Please be seated-" Master Stone answered calmly as he vanished the ink with his wand. "But you said-" Began Draco as he too stood from his chair. "I said do not judge your friends. Have you ever met a Weasel?" The boys looked at him agape, "No sir," They answered. "Do you plan to befriend one?" Master Stone inquired. "No sir," was again the reply. "Then how did my previous statement apply to one?" Both boys looked with shame at their tutor before sitting down. "It did not apply to the Weasley's as I said. I am sorry for disrupting the lesson sir." Lebenth mumbled in his head as Draco nodded. Master Stone nodded and tapped the book with his wand. "Good, now please turn to page three," Lebenth and Draco turned the page.
Master Stone smiled then began to read:
The Black family holds great power in the magical community. The Black family traces its purity to the Arthurian Era. The Black family began with the birth of three witches Morgan, Elaine and Morgause. These three witches were the daughters of the Lady Igraine, who was a half eleven, and her first husband, the Muggle Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall. The Lady Igraine was beautiful and full of unconditional light she was loved by all and when her husband died she married King Uther Pendragon, a Celtic Elven high king. To whom she bore a non-magical son, Arthur Pendragon. The Elven high king in shame hid the son with a family of low elves. Igraine fell into deep sorrow.
Her three daughters outraged at their young brother named him Scieb (Traitor of magic, that has lately been translated to squib) however their beloved mother told them that until three horrid sins had been committed by her son the witches were not to touch him.
The young squib grew into a fine man and when his father died his mother returned him to his rightful crown. The boy of fourteen was given a half-elveish tutor, Merlin, and with the tutor he ruled wisely. In time the young king fell in love with a pretty Muggle girl, Guinevere. The girl was cursed by Morgan to bear no children for the king so her brother would have to choose one of his half sisters children to become his rightful heir.
Many children were born to the sisters yet each possessed little power in comparison to theirs. The three sisters were distraught. Until their own mother spoke to them, "Morgan with divine hips shall berth a prince with night locks on his temple and blood trembling with magic, Mordred the Black. This son shall murder his father that his mother took under loves face."
The prophecy sent Morgan, bearing the face of Queen Guinevere into her brothers chambers were she was given a child. However as Morgan lay still for nine lunes of a full moon, her sisters caused the Queen to fall into love a quaint Knight. On the ninth month Arthur caught the knight and his wife in her private chambers.
Arthur stricken with pain, when he discovered the affair, asked his wife three times were their child was she denied the child and with Elevish sin he struke her, again he asked her she said he had not berthed a child, he struck her then asked a third time she denied his words and he struck her with sin a third time. Morgan came forth suddenly with her son that had been borne at dawn, for now the king had committed three sins and could be killed so she presented his unknown death into his arms. He held his son high and named him Mordred Prince of Britain. Then with the boy in his left arm and sword in his right he murdered his wife and knight.
Mordred when in his childhood youth was a druid, an elven prince and powerful son with an innocent face, he connected to his mother and Merlin through his mind and spoke little to his father as he deemed himself unworthy. The Mordred the Black was told he would murder his father. However the boy was not a killer, he did not want blood on his hands.
On his eighteenth birthday Morgan and Arthur went into battle together the boy protected his father from European Muggles. The Muggles lost and Arthur and Mordred were the last.
Morgan however came to the battle as the last Muggle fell and she took power over her son and with his cursed body she murdered her brother. Yet Merlin who had followed her saw this and told the Knights of Arthur that Morgan had murdered her brother, not his son. Who became kind and passed the royal Black wizarding name through generations that will still come to pass-"
"Is that it?" Asked a curious Draconian, Stone smiled. "Of course not Draconian, the story here is just a brief line of your heritage, the in depth novel is in your grandfathers study at Black manor, I believe." Draconian acknowledge this and nodded, Lebenth remained silent as always.
Stone carried on, "The Blacks place a great importance on blood purity. The family motto, written on the family crest, is Toujours Pur, which means "Always Pure" in French that was the motto of Mordred.
The Blacks are commonly described as "extremely handsome or beautiful". They are considered to be beautiful people, being tall, thin and having attractive features. The traditional look for most of the Black family is black hair and dark eyes with some exceptions, such as Alphard Black who had red hair or Orion Black I who had blond hair and blue eyes. (This lead to the court case involving the poor boys parentage. A significant rivalry between the Malfoys and Blacks that has newly been resolved.) They possess a certain aristocratic elegance that reflects upon their personality.
The Black family is the wealthiest Wizarding family. There, known, two vaults in England Gringotts number 711 and number 3 are described as a treasury of gold. Their wealth is to be envied by all. The 600 family houses and 200 house elves (Public knowledge may be limited) is only an example of their power.
Let us, audience of this chapter, understand that when the Black family is infuriated there is no mercy."
When Stone looked up from reading he spotted the two struggling hands in the air. He smirked, "Yes Draco?" Stone asked as the young heir grinned in satisfaction. "Are the Black Family richer than us still, sir?" Stone smiled. "Yes they are Draco; it would take a thousand years to match the wealth of the Blacks. Lebenth?" Lebenth smiled as Draco pondered the answer and asked through his mind, "Is the Black family still powerful sir? I rarely hear of father talking about them?" Stone answered with a practiced tongue; he knew that the young boy was not meant to discover some truths. "Yes, the family's heir Regulus Black, your Aunts cousin, is currently working as a silent counselor for the English Wizgmont. He is trying to redeem the power of our pureblooded ways. As for the head of the family, Lord Orion, he recently suffered a great loss and has not made an appearance for many years however his wife Walburga-"He said this with a sneer in his voice, "-is currently residing in France with her cousin. Doing nothing on either matter."
Lebenth saw the anger in his tours eyes and quickly changed the topic. "What about the Malfoy family sir?" He suggested with a smirk on his face. Both cousins rapidly read the chapter. Snorting at the text in some places and grinning at others.
"The Malfoy family is a pureblooded wizarding family whose French ancestry is well known throughout the wizarding society. The Malfoy family although denied by most members come from a line of squibs that till this day is still unnamed. The Malfoy name was given to the family in the first generation and therefore the name of the squib line was lost. The name Malfoy is derived from the French "mal foi," meaning "badly (or in this case, bad) faith" or "unfaithful". In law, "bad faith" refers to a case in which a malicious motive on the part of a party in a lawsuit undermines their case. This would be relevant to the general cruel natures displayed by some members of the house. In existentialism, "bad faith" is a philosophical concept in which people blame their own failures on external factors, thus denying responsibility for their actions. Also, this most likely refers to the Malfoys' famous tendency to switch their loyalties to avoid danger or punishment, rather than steadfastly supporting their presented views.
Many historical achievements (Wizarding) have been noticed by society in compliment to the Malfoy family such as their short rule over France when the family posed as the House of Valois from 1328 to 1589. Another achievement of the Malfoy family was their strategist advice that assisted in many wizarding and Muggle battles including the naval battle: The Spanish Armada. This is a significant battle as the Malfoy family assisted the Black family's heir Elizabeth Tudor in this battle.
The family crest pays homage to Salazar Slytherin, bearing the colors black, green and silver, as well as images of several serpentine creatures. The Latin words "Sanctimonia Vincet Semper" appears inscribed on a silver banner, meaning "Purity Will Always Conquer".
The aristocratic features of the Malfoy family are traditional. Blond hair and steal blue eyes. It is unlikely to ever have a Malfoy heir without this description and therefore it has become a signature look that many wizards and witches find tremendously attractive.
The Malfoy family is the third wealthiest Wizarding family. Their vault in England Gringotts number, number 12, is described as fountains of silver upon emeralds. Their wealth is to be envied by many. The 327 family houses and 50 house elves (Public knowledge may be limited) is only an example of their rising wealth.
Let us, audience of this chapter, be warned that the Malfoy have a honored tradition: They are Slytherin through and through."
They boys read the last sentence in their minds and together. No matter what neglect Draco suffered he was proud to be a Malfoy.
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Gloom lay thick across the tired walls of Malfoy manor. A hungry wind bit the windows, they quivered. Looming above the oak doors was a window engraved with a pearly glow. Lilius Malfoys private study had little light. A cold ember sunk into ash in the fireplace and a single candle perched on the craved desk. Lilius sighed as he fixed his gaze onto a grandfather clock, which stood like a lonely man, in the corner. The time was quarter to eleven. Lilius impatiently diverted his cold stare towards the ring in his hand, a deep haunting blue stone stuck in between two twisted silver branches. Detailed silver leaves waved on an invisible wind around the stone. The Ravenclaw Lords ring had been passed through to his squib biological father, shortly before Lilius had murdered him. How would have guessed the great and intelligent Ravenclaw line producing a long generation of squibs.
Lilius who, quite proudly, was the heir to two Hogwarts founders wore the rings, much to Lucius's envy.
Lucius was Lilius's brother. Even though it was through adoption they were and always would be brothers.
Tom Marvolo Riddle was Lilius's name before Lord Abraxas Malfoy had adopted him.
Lilius only referred to himself as Tom to claim his vaults at Gringots and to pass on his heritage to his son.
He had been told about his true parentage just before he started Hogwarts:
The two heirs of the Malfoy house were sat at the bay window in their double chambers. Four of their close cousins circled them as they battled in an intense game of wizard's chess. The light illuminated their stern faces through the window pain. It was a cold day in December, and the boys were steadily becoming impatient as the wait for Christmas drew closer.
Lucius brushed his shoulder-length hair out of his eyes as he called, "Knight C5," with a trumpet smirk plastered across his cheeks. He was a strategist, even at the age of seven. He was the champion chess player among the six and not surprisingly the wittiest. It was, of course, a Malfoy trait.
Lilius was watching his queen become black rumble with shocking purple eyes. Different, from the usual Malfoy traditional look but the same proud emotion still lurked between them, even as a child. He turned to face his cousin Sirius Black.
Sirius was the heir of the Black family. Enough said. He was a prodigy of magic, at six he had mastered the first grade classes that they would teach at Hogwarts. He was now on grade three. His black hair was tied with a silver ribbon, his grey eyes were surveying the match, and his trademark grin was falling across his elfish face.
"Lucius, if mistakes were magic you would be a muggle. I honestly cannot see a way to win this match Lil. Surrender now and do so proudly." Sirius said as he raised his palms and fell back into his chair. Lucius smirked again as Lilius sighed.
"One day I will beat you brother, but until then I agree with Siri, good game." Lilius swooped across the room and took the seat next to his closest friend. Sirius grinned and moved closer to him.
Lucius turned to face them all. Rodolphus and Rabastan, the LeStrange twins, were sat opposite him. The twins were identical; with brown curls and signature green eyes. They were talking, in Spanish, about Hogwarts. Ever since their older cousin Neil had been sorted into Slytherin, School had suddenly become a much loved topic between the children.
The last of the group was Morgan Flint he was good friends with all of the children however if you asked the adults the favoured pairs were: Lilius and Sirius, Lucius and Rodolphus and Rabastan and Morgan.
It was nearing lunch when the fire place sounded in the hallway and the voice of Lord Abraxas Malfoy boomed a welcome. Sirius looked down at his watch. "I doubt it is any of our fathers as they are also invited for dinner." The others nodded in agreement as Abraxas entered the room. A heavily clocked stranger stood in silence behind him.
"Lucius, son, could you please escort your guests down stairs? I need a word with your brother alone." Lucius nodded, knowing not to disagree with his father, he led the others, except Sirius, out. Abraxas motioned for Sirius to leave but he lazily shock his head. "Sirius can stay, father, he can be trusted with my life let alone a family secret." Lilius said with a short wink. His father sighed, "Well if you're sure son." He said in a voice almost regretful. He then patted his son on the shoulders sent a glare towards the Black heir and left. Leaving the stranger in the room. A tense silence caused Sirius to stand and draw his wand. He growled at the man, low and dog like, before Lilius also stood up. They turned on the man whose face was covered. Slowly Sirius said, "By order of the House of Black I demand you sit on the chair-" He gestured to a old wooden one he transfigured from a pillow on the floor, "-Take off your clock, apologise for your poor lack of an introduction and show us your wand." Sirius wasn't playing. He felt threatened by the very stance of the man who was now walking towards the chair.
Carefully the man did what he had been told. When the man removed his hood Sirius became wide-eyed. Nicholas Flamel sat in Lilius's chambers his face white and frowning.
"Do not rely on your name boy. I doubt very many care of a Black haired boy with wealthy robes especially when his arrogance seems to be his only shield." Sirius nodded and stood back into a bow, Lilius did the same. Both boys were slightly annoyed, Sirius had shown his skill of magic very professionally and non-threatenly through his transfiguration. He had warned without actually warning.
But both boys were purebloods and had manors. They apologised, offered Nicholas drinks and then after the usually protocol sat down opposite the half-blood.
With a sigh Lilius was first to talk as the silence was awkward. Usually their guest would have had tea and the slurping of a drink would have made the tenseness vanish but the eccentric man had declined any drinks saying he only drank his own wine and ate his own food.
Nicholas starred at the boys with a soft expression that was slightly off. His white eyes rimmed with a red line looked almost painful.
"Are you blind?" Asked Sirius with little concern of the mans health at all. The mans gaze shifted towards Sirius's mouth. "I am, Master Black." Was the reply. Lilius gaped at the man, "But you created the elixir of life. How can you be blind?"
Nicholas smiled softly, the kid was smart. "Well Master Malfoy, to have an elixir of life the elixir must be given a form of life to generate from. A powerful source, it seems I did not give it a powerful enough source and now it has began to rot my senses. My taste first, then my smell, and now my sight." Both boys shuddered at the coldness in the mans voice.
"The matter of which brings upon us why I am here. I have denied you, Lilius, your sense of belonging." Both boys shuddered again before asking, "Pardon?"
"Let me explain, I once knew a man named Roel Salazar Slytherin-" "-The grandson of-" "-Do not interrupt me Black!" Sirius fell silent and Lilius looked back at the man suddenly extremely interested in his words. "As i said, I once knew Roel. He and I were as brothers before he died and I lived on with my elixir. As both of you probably know after a few more centuries the last of the Slytherin line was murdered and thoughts that lived changed their names to Gaunt. I knew of them. Heard lies and truths. Heard the family was brutal and blood thirsty. But also heard of a light. Merope Gaunt, the daughter. She-"
"Fell in love with a muggle and had a bastard at the age of fifty because her first child died. She oblivated her muggle husband endued with love potions had a second child in the year of my birth and both the child and Merope disappeared. We know, my father gives me that lecture almost every day, love a muggle means love a life as one."
Lilius grinned and Sirius as he once again interrupted, and laughed at his impression of his father. Nicholas frowned. "Be silent boy." He whispered as he then said. "I was chosen to protect the line by Roel as his brother that is why we created the elixir. And to make sure the same family who murdered the last of the Slytherin line didn't murder the only heir I took him from Merope and hid him with a pureblood family who gave him a knew and caring home." Sirius snorted, "That's some storey." He said choosing not to believe what his mind was yelling at him. But hen again why else would the man be telling Lil.
"That's right, Black. The bastard child as you so valiantly named is sitting at your side."
"I don't believe you," said Lilius, suddenly. His eyes blazed as he stood up. "Tell the truth!" He spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. Sirius stood up and moved towards the corner of the room. The voice his best friend used was a command, more deadly than his. He was glaring at Nicholas, who made no response except to continue smiling pleasantly. After a few seconds Lilius stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything scared.
"Who are you?"
"I have told you. My name is Nicholas, my child." Nicholas paused when Lilius leapt from the bed and backed away from Nicholas, looking heartbroken.
"No, I remember you? You're the man from the ball; you told father how much you wanted to take me away. Well I don't want to go! I refuse; my brother is here I won't leave him. "Sirius growled in agreement as he protectively stood in front of Lil..
Nicholas was impressed; Lilius had only been a small boy of three when that conversation had occurred.
"I am not here to take you away, Lilius; I'm here to explain some family complications. And your inheritance." said Nicholas patiently. "As I have explained, I met your mother before you were born and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about her."
Lilius snorted, "My mothers in the kitchen downstairs if I want to know about her, I can go down myself and ask what ever I please." Nicholas gave the boy a saddened glance that unfortunately Lilius caught.
"What?" He questioned.
"I want to tell you about your biological mother and father, but if you don't want to listen nobody will force you —"
"I'd like to see them try," sneered Lilius, who had not yet understood the information inside Nicholas's statement. Unfortunately Sirius had and was now holding a rather desperate expression on his face. Nicholas reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a photograph he managed to get from the Riddle house hold, and another he took of Merope just before she died. He handed them to Lilius who starred at the blankly. Nicholas didn't expect him to remember.
"Merope Gaunt and Thomas Riddle. A pure blood witch and a squib. Heirs of Ravenclaw and Slytherin."
"Pathetic squib. "Both boys said in turn.
Nicholas went on, as though he had not heard Lilius's last words, "Your father and your mother —"
"Are down stairs!"
"Your mother and father are the people in those photographs, whether you believe me or not nothing will ever change that." Sirius started to shake.
There was silence. Lilius had frozen, his face expressionless, but his eyes were flickering back and forth between each of Nicholas's, as though trying to catch one of them lying.
"My mother and father?" he repeated in a whisper.
"That's right," said Nicholas.
"But...but does that mean Lucius isn't my brother, did father lie?" Lilius looked heartbroken, and Nicholas addressed him.
"Lucius is still your brother for as long as you want him to be, your blood adopted made that happen and Lucius loves you. Your father is my very good friend and took you in when I couldn't? I also can guess as young Black has remained in the room after me explaining that you are not a pureblood, he does not care either." Sirius nodded in agreement, "You can't get rid of me, Lil." The boys laughed.
"Where is my mother," breathed Lilius. A flush of anger was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered.
"She's dead, and your father is living-"
"I DIDN'T ASK ABOUT THE SQUIB!" Lilius bellowed. His legs were trembling. He stumbled forward and sat down on the bed again, staring at his hands, his head bowed as though in prayer.
"I knew I was different," he whispered to his own quivering fingers. "Tell me about her... I don't believe you! But tell me anyway." Nicholas smiled.
"I honestly don't know much about them, but I know your true name is Tom and your mother looked like your sister does."
"I have a sister?"
"Yes" said Nicholas, who was no longer smiling, but watching Lilius intently. "My adopted daughter Maria."
Lilius lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it.
"She wants to meet you Tom," Nicholas said.
Lilius and Sirius gave an irritable twitch, as though trying to displace an irksome fly.
"My name is Lilius," He stated coldly.
"You dislike the name 'Tom'?"
"There are a lot of Toms," muttered Lilius as Sirius nodded, "Muggles name." He stated. Then, as though Lilius could not suppress the question, as though it burst from him in spite of himself, he asked, "Can she speak to snakes. Lucius can't, father says it's my gift— they find me, they whisper to me."
Nicolas could tell that he had withheld mention of this strangest power until that moment, determined to impress. "Parselmagic as you know is descended from Lord Slytherin" said Nicolas, after a moment's hesitation, "but no, she cannot speak Parseltounge."
His tone was casual but his eyes moved curiously over Lilius's face. Roel had told him many years ago that only his true heirs could speak to snakes. They stood for a moment, man and boy, staring at each other.
Lilius remembered it to well, fifteen years had passed from that day, and he was now twenty two.
There was a quite knock. Lilius smiled, ten to eleven; his son was a perfectionist at arriving precisely when he was meant to.
"Father?" The innocent voice of a child said. Lilius chuckled breathlessly, "Son?" He teased.
"May I enter?" The heavy oak door began to open.
"You may," Lilius replied to his son. He heard the light footsteps cross the room.
As he saw his son walk across the room, he realized he had an almost perfect reality.