When the Stars Shine Brighter
Chapter 1: The Jump
August 1999
"Potter, move your arse!"
Harry did. For the past year, he had been training as an Unspeakable, or as they were called by the public, a Greycloak. After the Battle of Hogwarts, his life severely changed. Good or bad, Harry knew not.
Flashback
The changes started about a week after. Hermione went off to Australia to see if she could find a fix for her parents' addled memories, courtesy of herself. Harry didn't hear from her again. While Harry was busy with the cleanup of Hogwarts in the aftermath, his relationship with Ginny quickly fell apart. They had been a "couple" to all of their friends, but Harry never particularly saw them as one. They separated only a few weeks after the battle in a very tense Burrow household.
That was something else that changed, a glaring hole in his life. Seeing George without Fred joined at his hip (or was it George at Fred's hip? Who knows.) was a very odd sight, and not a welcome one. Molly had spent her days in the weeks and months afterward sobbing at anything that remotely reminded her of her late son. George actually attempted to end his own life, and Harry paid for him to see a mind healer; he couldn't bear seeing George in his perpetual suicidal state.
Apart from his troubles with the Weasley family, new ones started with his job as an Auror. Everyone seemed to look to him as a fix for any minor problem, and it grated on his consciousness very soon after he started. All he had wished for after his miserable first 17 years of existence was a sense of normalcy, but apparently, that could and would not ever be achieved. He quit not even a month into his job.
Fast forward to August of '98, he was returning to his small flat when he stopped in his tracks. Sitting on his couch, like an invited guest, was a man in grey robes and his hood pulled over his head. Harry instantly pulled his Holly wand out (he dared not use the Elder wand; he kept it locked in his Gringotts vault so no one could ever use it again) only to find that it was no longer in his hand. He looked warily at the man.
"Now, now, Mr. Potter, that wasn't very nice, was it?" Harry thought carefully before he spoke.
"Who are you?" That seemed like the safest thing he could ask.
"I would be Saul Croaker. Officially, I died after I graduated from Hogwarts in 1965. Unofficially, I am the Director of Operations for the Department of Mysteries."
"..."
"Shit."
End Flashback
After that introduction, he was informed that the Department had taken interest in him. Croaker gave him an envelope with an interview time in the D.o.M. Harry did not get a chance to say "No, thanks, I don't want to be mince meat for destroying half of your Department 4 years ago, thanks though!" before Croaker flooed away.
After Harry was interviewed, they told him why he was actually brought there. According to Croaker, Wizarding Britain was in a state of perpetual decay, and had been since the first Blood War. Prior to the start of the war in late 1975, Britain's wizarding population sat at around 50,000. As of 1998, it was 9,000. While most people don't know, the majority of magicals in Britain are either homeschooled by tutors or enrolled in a smaller magical school, of which there are close to 200 across Britain and Ireland. The decay wasn't necessarily caused by deaths, but rather, by emigration.
Croaker's mission for him was to first, live his life, but also try and save Britain. As such, he was sent to the Kronos subdepartment for briefing, According to the director, a man named Murphy, he would be sent back around August of 1975, right as the war officially began. This would give him ample time to prepare, as the population decline didn't begin until around 1979, when 20,000 left in one year. Also according to Murphy, once he left, his current timeline would cease to exist. Not that it bothered Murphy, or Croaker for that matter because it was not like they were dying painfully; it would be like they never existed. Not that Harry knew why, but he supposed that he didn't need to know.
One interesting fact was that Murphy somehow managed to configure the event to where Harry would be thrust back into his 15-year-old body, which meant that he would be attending Hogwarts. Harry could not go to Hogwarts looking like a carbon copy of his father James, so Croaker crafted a few solutions to this issue.
The first solution was that Harry complete a blood adoption. For this, Croaker sent a team to collect any remaining hair of Sirius in Grimmauld Place, as Kreacher had died recently and had also never cleaned the house after his death. Croaker hired a well-known Potion Master to engineer a modified blood adoption potion; instead of slightly changing his features to reflect his third parent, it completely changed his body. Croaker explained that while his magic from his parents was still there, his blood was not. His genetic structure now contained nothing from either James or Lily.
When Harry looked in a mirror, he was shocked. He looked nothing like before. His hair was long and slightly curly, his eyes were a hard steel grey, and his cheekbones raised as well as his cheeks more hollow. He looked exactly how a Black should. Croaker even said that he was now technically a pureblood since his blood from James and Lily was completely gone. He also gained around a staggering 5 inches in height, going from a slightly respectable 5'8 to an imposing 6'1.
The second solution was changing his name. Keeping with Black family tradition, he chose a celestial name: Rigel Pollux Black.
After that was figured out, Harry started his training regiment. This lasted around a year, and every day was around the same: Be rudely awakened at 5 A.M, do physical training until 8, have breakfast for 30 minutes, self-study from 8:30 to noon, have small lunch for 15 minutes, and then the worst part of the day, magical combat training from 12:30 to 5 P.M. While it was hell for Harry, Croaker did do his best for him, and within 6 months, Harry could hold his own in a duel with Croaker.
While Croaker was no Voldemort, he was very skilled and somewhat powerful. Harry compared him in terms of fighting ability to that of Bellatrix, and as he thought more about it, Croaker could have probably beaten her in her prime. Another 2 months and Harry was winning their duels nine times out of ten.
Croaker had insisted that he learn all aspects of magic, light and dark. He'll never forget what Croaker said to him when he initially refused to learn something so dark.
Flashback
Harry was doing some self-study before lunch when Croaker walked in. Harry made to stand up as a sign of respect but Croaker just waved him to sit down. Harry did so, and Croaker spoke.
"Potter, you have impressed me these first 3 months of training, however, we need to start with the real stuff. What is the most dangerous magic you have learned while here?"
Harry thought a second before answering, "Hmmm, most likely something to do with explosive magic, I'm decent with those." Croaker nodded, noting that was exactly what Harry was studying at that time.
"Put that book away. Here, take this, and use it well." Croaker threw a book at Harry, which he caught instinctively. It read 'Magicks Most Evile.' Harry threw the book down immediately. "What the hell? I'm not reading this shite!"
"Potter, when your enemies are throwing blood-boiling curses, eye gougers, and organ liquefiers, what are you going to use? A fucking stunner?"
Harry was silent after that.
End Flashback
After training that morning, Croaker and Murphy pulled him aside for a private meeting.
"Potter, or Black I guess I should say, you have impressed us beyond belief. You came in here a boy and are exiting a grown man. Your dueling skill is unrivaled in today's climate, your knowledge of magic is extensive, and your work ethic is to be admired. I'm sorry to see you go, but you and I both know it's necessary. Make us proud, Black."
'Rigel' nodded and shook Croaker's hand. "It's been a pleasure working with you, sir."
Croaker shook his head. "I believe you've earned the right to call me Clarence, Rigel."
Rigel nodded and turned towards Murphy, who looked eager to start explaining the time jump.
"So, Black, in a few moments, we'll have you set up in a ritual room. You are allowed to take the clothes on your back, the identification we forged for you, your two wands, and basically nothing else. Any more added to the ritual can cause it to go awry. Do you understand?"
Rigel nodded. Rigel had gone under glamour to Gringotts to retrieve the Elder Wand around a week ago and had been using it regularly since. While it wasn't a power increase, his magic responded to him instantly. He felt as though he never had to think of an exact spell, only push his intent through the wand, and it had not let him down yet.
Rigel followed Murphy out of the room, shook hands with Croaker a final time, and went into the Time Room deep into the D.o.M.
Rigel was placed in the center of a giant runic array. Murphy's voice echoed around him. "Get ready, Black. Good luck, and make us proud. Clarence and I know that you'll accomplish anything you set to achieve."
Rigel prepared himself, and let a few tears escape. While he was sad to go, he was immensely looking forward to seeing his father, godfather, and Remus again. His life felt empty now, especially with the absence of Remus and Sirius.
He saw the runic array start glowing. At first, the glowed a nice gold color, and then later shifted to a bright blue.
"This is the final goodbye, Black."
Rigel nodded, and as he felt a tug on his navel, he smiled. While he had work to do, he was ready.
Break
August 2nd, 1975
Rigel slammed down into the same room he left, with a few glaring differences. The Runic array was no longer there, and the shelves were still stocked to the brim of time-turners; he had destroyed those in his excursion in 1995 that ended in the death of Sirius. Sirius!
His godfather was out there somewhere, however, he had things to do first. With haste, he donned his class VI Unspeakable robes and was about to leave when he heard a voice.
"Hey! Stop, NOW! What the hell are you doing in this room!?" Rigel smiled. 'Always leave it to Murphy to be protective of this room.'
Rigel turned around and flashed his cloak, showing the golden "VI" on the collar. Murphy stammered an apology and quickly left the room. Not wasting time, Rigel left and went into the hallway and then into the lift.
He pressed the button for the Ministry Atrium and once there, he stepped out and into the floo.
"Hogsmeade!"
Rigel figured the first thing he should do is speak with the aged Headmaster. While he and Dumbledore will never see eye-to-eye, he could definitely help him with what he needed.
Walking out of Hogsmeade and towards Hogwarts, he met a slightly younger Professor Flitwick at the gates. He seemed to be checking a ward stone when he jumped in surprise at Rigel.
"Oh! Hello there, how may I help you?" He asked it friendly enough, but there was a subtle hint of danger in his tone. It seemed even now that Hogwarts was tense with the current political climate.
"Hello, Professor?..."
"Flitwick, Filius Flitwick, charms professor and head of House Ravenclaw."
"Professor Flitwick, sorry to disturb you, but is the headmaster here? I am a new student here in Britain and was wondering if I could speak to him regarding registering myself for the upcoming school year."
"Ah! A new student, a pleasure to meet you. Yes, Professor Dumbledore is here. May I ask your name?"
Rigel hesitated for only a moment before answering. "Black. Rigel Black."
Flitwick seemed to be a bit nervous at this, however quickly recovered. "A Black, eh? I can't help but expect that you end up in either my house or Slytherin. May I also ask why you weren't here the previous years?"
Rigel sighed internally, and began to answer. "It is somewhat complicated. You see, my father, Orion, sent me away around the age of 10 to get a better grasp on my magic since I seem to have a natural gift as well as a hard time controlling it; I do hate this, but allow me to brag that I am more powerful than most my age."
It wasn't the complete truth but it would have to do.
"Oh? Natural talent, you say? What kind?" Harry chuckled internally as they reached the front gates of the school; they had been walking for a while now.
"Does this answer your question, Professor?"
Professor Flitwick nearly jumped out of his skin at the hiss that escaped Rigel's lips.
"A Parselmouth?! I thought that was only in the Slytherin line?"
"Someone from Slytherin must have married into the Black Family centuries ago; while it isn't well known, the Black Family did have a Parselmouth in the 1700s," and that was the truth. Rigel, or Harry back then, had done some digging on his ability. His grandmother, Dorea Potter, was Black, and there was a man named Acrux Black around 1730 that was a Parselmouth, and he did sire several children. While none of them inherited the ability, Rigel surmised that he still retained it because it is a magical trait. While it is passed through blood, the ability itself is ingrained in your magical core, not your genetics. Your blood just activates it from being dormant.
Flitwick hummed, still in surprise, and soon they reached the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office. "Well, this is where I leave you. Good luck and good day, and I hope to see you in my O.W.L. class next month!" Rigel waved him goodbye and asked the gargoyle for entrance, which it granted.
Break
Albus Dumbledore was not having a great summer. He received news that only provided truth to the rumors of a pureblood movement led by an extremely powerful individual. Albus had a guess as to who it was but was prevented from dwelling on it further by a visitor.
"Enter."
The door opened and a young man who looked to be of very similar appearance to young Sirius entered the office. "Hello, may I ask who you are?"
Rigel bowed in greeting. He learned in his study of pureblood, and also general wizarding culture, that bowing to an elder is a sign of complete respect. Offering your hand to someone much older and wiser than yourself isn't necessarily considered disrespectful, but insinuated that you place them as just any other wizard and not of much importance.
"Greetings, Headmaster. We have much to discuss." Dumbledore's eyebrows rose to his hairline but gestured for Rigel to take a seat. "What seems to be of importance, my boy?"
Rigel internally grimaced at the moniker before pulling his wand carefully, holding it up, and stated, "I Rigel Rpollux Black swear on my life and magic that everything I am about to tell Albus Dumbledore is the truth; so mote it be." Rigel glowed gold before speaking further.
"I needed to do so because otherwise, you would not believe a word out of my mouth for the next two hours." Dumbledore frowned.
"What is it, Mr. Black? It seems to be greatly bothering you."
Rigel nodded and said, "It would be easier if you dose me with Veritserum; it is a lot and easier for you to find out by using a truth serum. I know I swore an oath, but it'll be better for both of us." Dumbledore smiled at the gesture of faith shown by the young man and retrieved some from his personal storage.
After placing three drops on his tongue, he started asking questions.
"What is your name?"
"Rigel Pollux Black, although that is not my birth name."
"What is your birth name?"
"Harry James Potter."
Dumbledore almost fell out of his seat. 'How could this be? As far as I know, young James has no siblings, and this boy looks nothing like him…"
Pressing further, he asked, "What is your birthday?"
"July 31st, 1980."
Again Dumbledore was shocked.
"Are you a time traveler? If so, what is your purpose?"
"Yes. I was sent here from the year 1999 to prevent potential damages to Wizarding Britain, and to kill by any means necessary Tom Riddle."
Albus sighed in defeat. The last part of what he said only confirmed his fears of the leader of the pureblood movement. Allowing the truth serum to wear off, they talked extensively about Rigel's past. Albus was saddened to hear of all the tragedy that happened in Rigel's timeline and resolved himself to prevent it.
"As we come to a close tonight, there is one issue that I'm afraid is rather large. How are you going to validate your identity?"
"I was actually hoping that you could help me with that. Is there anyone you know that could help me?"
Albus nodded, although reluctantly. "Although I do not personally like the man, Arcturus Black is your best hope. I fought with him in the war against Grindelwald, and while I do not agree with his views, he is a good man and cares deeply about his family. You undergoing a blood adoption will only make this easier since you already look like, and I suppose really are, one of them."
Rigel nodded thoughtfully. "Well, can you send word to him?"
Albus nodded and stood up. He walked over to the floo and said, "Black Manor!" His head disappeared and remained so for around 10 minutes before he stood up once more.
He chuckled and said, "He is coming through. While I do believe you'll be able to get through to him, do keep in mind this man has the sharpest tongue of any I have ever met and will not hesitate to rip you to shreds should he find you to be dishonest or of ill will."
Rigel very nervously nodded before a man stepped out of the floo. He looked to be around 20 years younger than Dumbledore. He had salt and pepper hair and grey eyes that glinted curiously as well as menacingly. He was about to speak to Dumbledore before he saw Rigel in the seat across from the Headmaster's desk.
"What the fuck is this sick joke, you old goat fucker?!"