Chapter One

The Same Day As Always

A thin boy with sallow skin, cold, black eyes, shoulder-length, greasy black hair, attired in black robes and a black cloak — with a bit of the collar and sleeves showing a bit of white — walked along the hallways of the Black Manor, which had numerous floors, tall ceilings with crystal chandeliers, large stain-glass windows, and beautiful paintings hanging on the walls.

His eyes scanning the Entrance Hall, Austerus walked over to a painting of a slender, red-haired woman in a white dress. Taking his wand out of his robes, he pointed it at the painting and said clearly, "Alohomora."

The painting then opened, revealing a spiraling staircase that led down to a dungeon-like room. Keeping his wand out, Austerus walked down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence. When he reached the bottom, he said, "Incendio," pointing his wand at a stack of logs that were piled together as a makeshift fireplace.

Immediately, orange light filled the room, the flames crackling, bringing it into focus.

"Hello, Father," Austerus said to the figure that was slumped against the wall.

The fire revealed the man, who arms were wrapped in chains that were attached to a stone-cold wall. He had graying-white hair, silver eyes that gave him a misty look, and wore tattered clothing and no shoes.

The man, Peureux, looked up at his son, his face streaked with terror.

"Son," he said, "why are you here? Your mother wouldn't like this."

"A pity for her," Austerus said in a sarcastic tone. "I've come here, Father, because you need to eat. The last time you ate was yesterday evening. Currently, it is noon." Pointing his wand at the chains, he said, "Relashio."

With a clink, the chains broke apart. Peureux rubbed his arms and hands as he stood up on shaky legs. As he did this, scars appeared visible on his neck and arms.

"Father," Austerus said in his low voice.

"Yes, son?"

"Did Mother carve words into your skin again?"

There was suppressed rage in his voice as Austerus said this. It had been happening since before he was born, but he loathed his mother every time she did this.

"Come here, Father."

Slowly, Peureux walked to his son, his black piercing his own silver ones. Shakily, he said, "Don't worry about it. She was just venting out her frustrations."

"Frustrations?" There was venom in his voice as Austerus spoke. "You call this frustration, Father. Mother is hurting you over and over again, yet you still defend her."

"Please, son," begged Peureux. "Don't worry about me. Worry about yourself. You've been alone for many years, hardly interacting with anybody —"

"Because of what our family is!" Austerus said in his low but angry voice. "Mother, despite not being magical, is still dangerous in her own way. She will gladly risk the lives of others in order to save her own." He looked at his father. "And that means more scars for you."

"You know how she is!" Peureux said. "She's just jealous that you have magic —"

"Yet it's her fault she was disowned from the Black family!" said Austerus. "When she found out she was a Squib, she shrieked like a banshee and proceeded to attack anyone who came near her; when she was taken away, her family marked her off the Black family tree. They would never have a Squib in their pure-blood house, much less one of their own spawns."

Peureux said nothing, so Austerus continued. "What was she like when she met you, Father?" he asked.

"Controlling, abusive, judgmental, petty, and selfish," Peureux said in a pained whisper.

"Just like she is now," said Austerus. He started walking back to the stairs. "Now come, Father. I dislike the way how you don't eat, even when I give you the chance. You just prefer to starve yourself."

"It's difficult, son, you know that," Peureux said as they made their way up the stairs. "With me being Quirkless, I can hardly do anything without her beating me until I can't move."

"And you are trapped in this house until the day your freedom comes," Austerus said, closing the portrait of the red-haired woman behind him. "At least that's the way it currently is."

Making their way into the kitchen, Austerus proceeded to prepare two meals for his father — one he would currently eat and one later for the evening.

"I will check up on you later, Father," said Austerus as he walked back into the room with his father, who was carrying a tray in his hands.

"Thank you, Austerus," Peureux said, smiling. "Thank you . . . for everything that you've done."

Austerus simply nodded. When he was back in the hall, he closed the portrait and locked the door again.

It was ten o'clock when Morana Black arrived back at the manor, stars shining in the sky. She was a tall, slim-looking woman with green eyes (that flashed dangerously whenever she was angry), also had shoulder-length black hair — though unlike Austerus, her hair was sleek and shiny — and she often had a look of irritation on her smooth face. She was wearing a red dress and black high heels.

She was someone Austerus deeply loathed for many reasons.

"So," she barked, "still here, are you?"

"Obviously," said Austerus, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"Don't speak in that ungrateful tone!" Morana snapped. "You better be more grateful! I allowed you to live in this house —"

"A house Father worked for," said Austerus. "Meanwhile, you are just seducing men for their money; you do nothing else but that. I wonder how many men are blind to not see your real intentions."

"Keep talking!" she shouted. "I dare you!"

"You're not worth my time, Mother." Austerus stood up, his black eyes meeting her green ones. "Besides, I'd expect nothing less from a Squib — particularly one that I'm related to."

He left his mother screeching at the bottom of the stairs as he walked up to his room. Other doors, some bordered up, others not, remained locked as his was on the right side.

Opening it, the room was revealed more like a dungeon. It was cold, dark, and filled with multiple jars of the body parts of creatures and liquids. On the left side was another door, which led to his bedroom. A desk — along with a bottle of ink and a quill for writing — was seated near the back, two candles on each side of it.

In a corner stood a cupboard full of ingredients Austerus used for his potions, and on his desk sat a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and symbols that laid in a pool of the lit candlelight.

A Pensieve, something that was extremely rare for witches and wizards to own. Though it was nothing but a mere replica, it still obtained the any memories that were dropped into.

It's always painful to witness, but it's the only way to escape my current life, Austerus thought as he gazed at the silvery light that was moving ceaselessly, he knew he didn't care — he never knew when he stopped caring, actually.

Austerus pulled out his wand from the inside pocket of his robes and pulled it out. Raising the wand to his temple, he placed its tip into the greasy roots of his hair. When he withdrew it, the same silvery substance was shown, stretching from his temple to his wand like a thick strand, which broke as he pulled the wand away from his temple and it fell gracefully into the Pensieve, where it once again swirled silvery white, neither gas or liquid.

Doing this a few more times, he raised the wand to his temple and deposited the silvery substance into the stone basin.

The memories swirled, silver white and familiar, and without hesitating, with a feeling of tortuous grief approaching, Austerus plunged headfirst into the basin. He was falling through whirling darkness — he heard strange noises — scenes were forming —

He now found himself standing at the street of Spinner's End, where a line of old railings separating the river from a narrow, cobbled street. He silently stood there, looking across the road at the rows and rows of dilapidated brick houses, their windows dull and blind in the darkness; some of the streetlamps were broken.

A frown on his pallid, sallow face, Austerus walked away from the entrance, trudging through Cokeworth, the place he knew since his mother was disowned from the Black family. They had lived their for many years, experiencing poverty and unhappiness.

A few minutes later, he was in a nearly-deserted playground. A single huge chimney dominated the distant skyline, bits of smoke blowing into the sky. Underneath a tree sat a small boy about ten years old, silently reading a book, his blue eyes trailing along the pages.

Nearby, hidden behind a pile of slightly overgrown bushes, was a younger version of himself. He still had the same greasy black hair and sallow skin, but there was unmistakable greed on his pale face as he watched the boy underneath the tree, the sun catching his bright brown hair and making it blow in the wind.

Suddenly —

Snap!

The boy looked up from his book and searched around for the source of the noise: Austerus had trotted on a twig. With shaky steps, Austerus climbed out of the bushes, his overlarge brown coat and stained pants giving him a disheveled appearance.

"Hi," he said meekly.

"Hello," said the other boy. "Where you the one hiding behind those bushes?"

Austerus flushed bright red. "Y-Yes. I wasn't doing anything bad, though." He stuck out a hand. "I'm Austerus, by the way."

The boy smiled, showing white teeth.

"My name's Everett. Nice to meet you," he said, shaking Austerus's hand. "But . . . I have to ask. Were you spying on me?"

"No!" said Austerus hurriedly. "I just noticed that you could do things that I can do as well. Here, watch."

Picking a lily from the flower bush, Austerus proceeded to hold it in his palm. It began to hover a few inches, before it floated towards Everett, who opened his own palm. The lily lowered itself delicately, and it began to open and close its petals, as if it was stuck in forward and reverse.

"Is this magic?" said Everett in surprise and wonder, the lily continuing to hover above his palm.

"Yes. I've seen you do things like this, too," Austerus said. "Here, you try." Walking back to the bushes, careful not to get a splinter on any of his fingers, Austerus removed a rose from the bush. It was red like blood and green like the grass.

"What do I do?" asked Everett as Austerus walked back and handed him the rose.

"Concentrate," said Austerus. "Make it fly towards me."

Opening his palm, Everett laid the rose. After a few seconds, Everett cleared his mind, focusing as hard as he could.

Make it fly, make it fly.

Slowly but surely, the rose lifted itself and began hovering towards Austerus. As he caught the rose in his hand, the two boys looked at each other and smiled.

The scene dissolved, and before Austerus knew it, re-formed around him. He was now standing in a small thicket of trees. He could see a sunlit river glittering through their trunks. The shadows cast by the trees made a basin of cool green shade. Two children sat facing each other — one cross-legged, the other laying on his stomach — on the ground. Austerus had removed his coat now; his dirt-stained looked less unattractive in the half light.

". . . and the Ministry can punish you if you do magic outside school, you get a letter when it happens."

"But I have done magic outside school!"

"It's alright. We haven't gotten our wands yet. They let you off when you're a kid and you can't help it. But once you're eleven," he nodded importantly, "and they start teaching you, then you have to be careful."

There was a little silence. Everett had picked up a fallen twig and twirled it in the air, and Austerus knew that he was imagining sparks trailing from it. Then he dropped the twig, leaned in toward his younger self, and said, "It is real, isn't it? It's not a joke? My brother Ethan says you're lying to me. Ethan says there isn't a Hogwarts. It is real, isn't it?"

"It's real for us," said Austerus, gazing at him with a smitten look. "No longer for him, though. But we'll get the letter, you and me."

"Really?" whispered Everett in amazement.

"Definitely," said Austerus, and even with his poorly cut hair and his odd clothes, he struck an oddly impressive figure sprawled in front of him.

"And will it really come by owl?" Everett whispered.

"Normally," said Austerus. "But you're Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents."

"Does it make a difference, you know, being Muggle-born?" Everett asked suddenly.

Austerus hesitated. His black eyes, eager in the greenish gloom, moved over the pale face, the blue eyes, and light brown hair.

"No," he said. "It doesn't make any difference."

"Good," said Everett, relaxing; it was clear that he had been worrying.

"You've got loads of magic," said Austerus. "I saw that. All the time I was watching you . . ."

His voice trailed away; Everett was half listening, but had stretched out on the leafy ground and was looking up at the canopy of leaves overhead. Austerus watched him as greedily as he had watched him underneath the tree.

"How are things at your house?" Everett asked. A little crease appeared between Austerus's eyes.

"Fine," he said.

"They're not arguing anymore?"

"Oh yes, they're arguing," said Austerus. He picked up a fistful of leaves and began tearing them apart, apparently unaware of what he was doing. "But it won't be that long and I'll be gone by then. I still worry for my father."

"Doesn't your mother like magic?"

"She doesn't like anything, much," said Austerus. "She's extremely hard to please."

"Austetus?"

A little smile twisted Austerus's mouth when he said his name.

"Yes?"

"Tell me about the dementors again."

"What else do you want to know about them?"

"If I accidentally do magic outside school —"

"Like I said before, they'll only send you a letter," Austerus quickly assured him. "Dementors are for people who commit horrendous crimes. They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban. You're too —"

He turned red again and shredded more leaves. It was clear as day, however, that he wanted to say, "You're too good for that."

And the scene re-formed. Now, Austerus was standing on platform nine and three-quarters, seeing himself next to his mother: She looked much younger, but there was a sour look on her face as she jealously looked around the platform, over the cats mewling in their owners' arms, over the owls fluttering and hooting at each other in cages, and at the many children boarding the Hogwarts Express.

A short distance away, Austerus saw Everett and an older boy he supposed was his older brother. He had the same light brown hair as Everett, but he had golden eyes instead.

The two boys stood a little apart from their parents. Everett seemed to be pleading with his brother. Austerus moved closer to listen.

". . . I'm sorry, Ethan, I'm sorry! Listen —" He caught his brother's hand and held tight to it, even though Ethan tried to pull it away. "Maybe once I'm there — no, listen, Ethan! Maybe once I'm there, I'll be able to go to Professor Dumbledore and persuade him to change his mind! I promise!"

"I — don't — want — to — go — back!" said Ethan, and he dragged his hand back out of his brother's grasp. "Freak!" he spat at his younger brother. "That's all you'll ever be!"

Everett's eyes filled with tears as Ethan succeeded in tugging his hand away.

"I'm not a freak," said Everett, deeply hurt. "That's a horrible thing to say."

"Doesn't matter," snarled Ethan. "You'll be lucky if even one person approaches you." He walked off to where their parents stood . . .

The scene dissolved again. The younger Austerus was hurrying along the corridor of the Hogwarts Express as it clattered through the countryside. He had already changed into his school robes. At last, he stopped outside a compartment in which, hunched in a corner seat beside the window, sat Everett, his face pressed against the windowpane.

Austerus slid open the compartment door and sat down opposite of Everett. He glanced at him and then looked back out of the window. He had been crying.

"I don't want to talk to you," he said in a quiet voice.

"Why not?"

"Ethan h-hates me. Because I saw that letter from Dumbledore."

"So what?"

He threw him a look of dislike.

"He's my brother!"

"Is it because he —" He caught himself quickly; Everett, too busy trying to wipe his eyes without being noticed, did not hear him. "But we're going!" he said, unable to suppress the exhilaration in his voice. "This is it! We're going to Hogwarts!"

Everett nodded, mopping his eyes, but in spite of himself, he smiled.

"You better be in Slytherin," said Austerus, happy and encouraged that he had brightened a little.

"We'll see," Everett said.

And the scene dissolved once more . . .

Austerus was now standing in the Great Hall, the Sorting Ceremony taking place. He was standing right behind his younger self as they faced the candlelit House tables, which were lined with rapid and anxious faces.

Then Professor McGonagall said, "Wainwright, Everett."

Everett stepped forward, nervous beyond belief. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat onto his head, and barely a second after it had touched his hair, the hat cried, "Gryffindor!"

Austerus let out a sigh of slight sadness. The roll call continued. At last, when only a dozen students remained to be Sorted, Professor McGonagall called him.

Austerus walked with his younger self to the stool, watched him place the hat upon his head.

"Slytherin!" cried the Sorting Hat.

The black eyes showed nothing but disappointment, which, in his mind, seemed to drown out the cheers coming from the Slytherin table.

And the scene changed . . .

Austerus and Everett were walking across the castle courtyard, evidently talking about something. Despite it being a memory, Austerus hid in the shadows, not wanting to witness it. A year seemed to pass by, as both had grown a few inches.

"But it's advanced magic!" said Everett in protest. "Even most witches and wizards can't cast it."

"Which is why I want to learn it, and I know you want to as well," said Austerus, his black eyes strangely glinting in the sunlight. "Haven't you ever wondered what your Patronus could be?" he asked.

"Yes, I have," admitted Everett. They both as they entered the corridors. He wrung his hands nervously. "I just don't think I have it in me."

"That's not true!" protested Austerus. "You're an intelligent student. They haven't invented a spell that you couldn't accomplish, haven't they?"

Everett's face turned bright red; he beamed a bit, which allowed Austerus to gaze at the blue eyes, entranced by them.

"Okay," said Everett. "I think we should give it a try, though it's not going to be easy."

"If we practice, though," Austerus said, taking Everett's hand in his, "we'll be able to do it."

"What do you think your Patronus would be if you successfully cast it?" asked Everett as they walked along the corridors still holding hands.

"I think it would be a doe," said Austerus. "It is an unusual Patronus. What about yours?"

"If I had to guess, I would say an eagle," said Everett. "They symbolize that you're strong-willed and free, and aren't afraid to try something new."

Austerus nodded. "You do often try new things; they always seem to work, too. Come on," he tugged Everett down the hall, "we need to go ask for permission to receive private lessons."

And the scene dissolved . . .

"Expecto Patronum!" a voice shouted.

Looking around, Austerus saw Everett standing alone in a deserted classroom, waving his wand and saying the incantation: A few bits of silvery-blue vapor came out of his wand.

"Come on . . . Come on . . . I can do this I have to do this," said Everett. He took a deep breath, concentrated deeply, waved his wand, and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

From the tip of his wand burst out a silver dun stallion. It began to walk slowly in circles, appearing more beautiful by the second, it's long mane falling across its muzzle. The silver-white eyes looked at Everett, who stood there, unmoving.

Slowly, however, it soon stood in front of Everett, looking at him in a gentle manner.

"Yes!" cheered Everett. He smiled at the Patronus, taking in every feature. Waving his wand, the stallion disappeared, but the grin on Everett's stayed. "Austerus will be so proud of me when he sees it!"

He ran out of the room, his Hogwarts robes flapping around his ankles.

It was now nighttime. He and Everett now stood at the top of the Astronomy Tower, their robes rippling in a fresh breeze.

"What did you want to show me, Everett?" Austerus asked, eyeing Everett curiously.

"This," said Everett. Taking out his wand, he waved it and said clearly, "Expecto Patronum!"

The silver dun stallion emerged again, this time galloping across the room before stopping in front of Austerus, the silvery-blue light illuminating the Astronomy Tower.

Austerus looked at the Patronus, the stallion reflected in his black eyes. Turning to Everett, he said, "I'm very proud of you, Everett. Never forget that."

Everett smiled. "Don't worry, I won't."

Waving his wand again, the Patronus disappeared, as did the scene.

Rising from the Pensieve, the now-fifteen-year-old Austerus proceeded to extract the memories from the Pensieve and place them back inside his mind. When he looked up, he could see that it was past midnight.

Tomorrow was going to be another long day, especially with the lack of sleep he would have to endure once again.