Ch1.

The Self Insert

Blackthorn, pureblood.

John MacIssaac died at the age of twenty-six only to awake in St. Mungo's Hospital with a deep headache. He found out quickly that he had been in a coma for two years after his parents were killed by death eaters in an attack on Diagon Alley. He was suddenly aware of another life he lived with parents he did not know.

Now he was called Alaric Atticus Blackthorn, an orphaned pureblood. The four-year-old boy was told by a happy nurse that "you-know-who" had recently been killed by Harry Potter, the "boy-who-lived." Alaric was two years older than Potter, which helped calm him. More time to prepare. He was emotional at first, but the mind has an odd way to deal with trauma. He cried for his old life and his new, for he had died and come alive in a dangerous world where he was already a victim.

It took a few days but he recovered. His family's house elf, Missy, came to visit him every day. She was emotional. She had been taking the loss of Alaric's parents hard and she thought, along with the doctors, that Alaric would never really recover. He had been hit with a poorly aimed cruciatus curse that was intended for his mother who was carrying him. It was released after just a moment, but he was a toddler. The glancing kiss of dark magic leaves a stain on one so young.

That death eater died for his act.

Alaric had remembered more than he should of that day. As he passed out from the pain, he remembered his father, Atticus Blackthorn, thundering out "Avada Kedavra!" as a sickly green spell shot forth.

'That explains why so many people are giving me dark looks,' thought Alaric. 'My parents weren't "light."'

The memories of the real Alaric had been clear to him, his family was a darker grey than most. They were an old pureblood family that fell out of fashion three generations ago when Alaric's grandfather and granduncle both married half-bloods.

'Must have met some of the more... inbreed purebloods,' thought Alaric as he remembered Crab and Goyle from the fiction.

A loud 'POP' next to Alaric made him flinch.

"Master Blackthorn sir. We have letters from d'Ministry," Missy said quickly as she handed a thick envelope to Alaric.

As he began to read his hands squeezed the parchment making it crinkle.

Dear Mr. Blackthorn

We are writing you today to inform you that due to your status as orphan, the Wizengamot will be having a session on Thursday the 18th of April, 1982 in regards to your guardianship. Your presence is required at 10 a.m. in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Wizengamot Administrative Offices.

Due to your father, Lord Atticus Blackthorn, and your mother, Lady Emelia Blackthorn, use of illegal spells on February 6th 1980, an act that put many wizards and witches in harm's way, ending the life of one Michael Yaxley and harmed countless others, the Blackthorn estate has been fined 10,000G and certain properties have been transferred to the victims' families.

Enclosed is a detailed list of the properties seized as well as the recipients. Any appeal will be the responsibility of your chosen guardian.

Hoping you are well,

Director Maxine Bulstrode.

Alaric began to read through the attached documents. The most of the Blackthorn properties, except some costal islands, the family manor and a small farm. Next were Wizengamot session summaries where the 'victims' and their families fought for the Blackthorn fortune.

'It seems like the 'light' families didn't care or they wanted a bit for themselves,' thought Alaric. Most of the summaries showed death eaters and a few 'light' families fighting to get the most out of the seemingly extinct Blackthorn family.

'Likely my 'guardian' will be one of those families,' he thought grimly.

"Missy," Alaric said. "Can anyone access the family manor?"

"No Master Blackthorn," she replied with her ears drooping downwards. "It's be hidden after ol'Master died, you needs the family ring to be there."

"And where is the ring?" Alaric asked.

"Gringotts sir."

"Can you access the vault, Missy?"

"Yes Sir. Missy can be popping over!" She said happily.

Alaric smiled as he began to form a small plan.

A chubby and overworked man came on Thursday to pick up Alaric for his guardianship hearing. Alaric felt his heart beat as his anxiety rose. He was now only four years old and he had to outwit an adult. A flustered and unmotivated adult, to be fair. After a few days of preparation, he and Missy had a plan, and it was an okay one if he was being honest. He was constantly monitored by hospital staff by tracking charms – incase his health declined and he needed immediate attention – and now those tracking charms were gone.

The Medi-Wizard gave him a quick scan after erasing the charms as Mr. Whistler tapped his foot impatiently.

"Ready?" Asked Mr. Whistler as the Medi-Wizard patted Alaric's shoulder.

"Yes, right as rain. Do be careful with the floo, many a young wizard trip." Said the Medi-Wizard happily.

"Good, let's be on our way Alaric."

Alaric smiled innocently at the man and followed him out. As they walked towards the fireplace Alaric wiped a little sweat away and swallowed.

"Sir?" he asked. "Can I just run to the loo?"

Mr. Whistler just gave Alaric a tired nod.

Smiling Alaric went into the bathroom and found the stall with Missy inside.

"Master," She whispered loudly. "Here's the ring. Just say the family words and then call for me."

"Audeamus!" [Let Us Dare]

Mr. Whistler was not a patient man, so after his watch told him that the boy had been in the bathroom for 10 minutes, he began to knock.

After another minute he decided to just unlock the door, with magic, and check on the boy. He spotted him at the sink washing his hands so he quickly closed the door and hoped he wasn't seen. A feeling he unwittingly shared with the boy.

Alaric was over-joyed, it worked. He had taken the family ring back to their hidden manor and dropped his blood on the ward stone. The Blackthorn family had put a lot of money into their defenses in the last few decades so their wards were some of the strongest in Britain. Unplottable from the muggles and impossible to find for witches and wizards. There was no floo access and any apparition could only be done by those keyed into the wards by blood. When he last head of the house died the protective enchantments reset themselves.

The security was the reason why, in Alaric's mind, the Ministry of Magic had not seized the manor, they did not know if it existed. They 'knew,' because everyone lived somewhere, but they didn't really know.

Alaric had feared that his new guardian would be able to access his family vault, so he needed to get Missy into their family manor so that she could move everything from Gringotts. He knew he couldn't avoid a new guardian, but he kept his family ring on just in case he had to leave. Only the strongest of anti-portkey charms would stop his ring. So, it sat on his finger invisible and intangible to all.

-10:33 a.m. Ministry of Magic, Wizengamont Administration Services-

Alaric sat in a small office alone for over half an hour as he watched people walk by. He was nervous as he entered the Ministry and waiting did not help. He kept thinking of the different pureblood families that were in the movies and the few he liked would dislike the Blackthorn family for their supposed darkness.

'Even Harry used an unforgivable,' thought Alaric. It was to reach the Hufflepuff Cup and end Voldemort, so Alaric knew it was fine, but the wizarding public were not known for critical thinking. The dislike for his family stemmed from his father's use of the killing curse in Diagon Ally. Elsewhere would have been a lot better, but people associate Diagon Ally with children going to Hogwarts so Alaric understood. He did not like it, but he understood.

After a few more moments of anxiously waiting an expertly dressed Witch came into the office.

"Blackthorn," said the lady. "I am Director Bulstrode, an hour ago the Wizengamot sent out a letter to Cassiopeia Black. She is your second cousin, twice removed. She will be your guardian."

[A/N: 2nd cousin twice removed is your grandparent's 2nd cousin. Or, your Great, Great grandparent's sibling's grandchild.]

A loud 'POP' signaled the arrival of a house elf. The elf wore a tattered cloth and hunched horribly.

"I's be Mistress Black's elf. I's take young Blackthorn to Mistress," said the elf.

'fuck,' was all Alaric could think as he inched over to the elderly elf. He grabbed the elf's outstretched hand and felt like the world squeezed against him. All he could think as he apparated away was that he never heard of a Cassiopeia Black.

Landing on his stomach Alaric felt the cold floor as bile shot into his mouth. He had vomited. He pushed himself to his knees as the vomit vanished, even his face was clean. He looked at the elf next to him and mumbled a "thank you" as he waited for the world to stop spinning.

"Mistress will see you's for lunch," said the elf. "Make sure you's clean. I's bring you's to you's room now."

With that the elf guided Alaric down a hallway and to a wooden door. The stone floor was polished and made the dark wood doors seem earthy. The walls were a creamy yellow with candles affixed.

With a heavy push Alaric entered his room and he was stunned. It was like an apartment to itself. There was a large bed in the main room with a bathroom and walk-in closet attached. The floors were hardwood and the furniture looked old, yet comfortable. Another door opened to an indent which the elf said could be expanded if needed. If Alaric needed an office, he could easily have the room.

"You's be getting clean and dressed now," said the elf before it popped away.

Alaric could only shake his head as he went to get ready to meet his new guardian.

In a dark silk robe Cassiopeia sat on her back porch drinking tea. Her movements were refined and her eyes scanned the distance, as if Alaric had not just entered her home. She was intrigued with the child; his family was, in some ways, opposite to hers. Her Black family was filled with the elderly. The young women were married off and had different names, while the rest were dead or in Azkaban. Blackthorn was the last of his line, but still just a child. While the Black family could not recover, too old to bear new children, the Blackthorn family had a bit of hope.

The two families were close once in her grandfather's time. Her parents were close friends with the Blackthorns before they began to marry half-bloods. Scandalous really, but as she retreated from society, and her nieces and nephews died following the Dark Lord, she understood. It took years to realize that the purebloods were more worried about losing power than anything 'noble.' Watching a few families fall apart from madness after marrying their children to those who were a little too closely related also helped her understand. Now, she realized that the 'Black madness' wasn't getting worse in the younger generation, it was just her brother marrying someone a little too close.

When she took a good look at her sister's nephew, James Potter, and compared the boy to Pollux's children, she couldn't stop herself from realizing the truth. The 'mud-bloods' at Hogwarts were right to call the pure-bloods inbred, well some of them.

She was bitter, a little lonely, and knew that the Blackthorns were right. Marrying half-bloods kept them sane, but the madness of the Dark Lord caught them anyway. Now a young boy was left alone. He was wealthy, but what was stolen would be missed. She could try to fight on his behalf, but she was old and, even if she wasn't, it was the boy's battle. She would prepare him, if he impressed her, but she would let him do the fighting after she was gone.

Cassiopeia Black was 67, but felt ancient. Poorly done rituals in her youth had caught up to her – another reason she realized the 'old' ways weren't perfect – and she would be happy with another 10 years. By then, the boy would be in Hogwarts and she'd do him a small favor of helping him become emancipated. Or she'd just pretend to not die until he became an adult.

Cassiopeia Black smiled thinly as she thought of her last great move on the political chess board that was Britain.

FIN