Arcturus Black
By: Katerinaki
Published: 9/22/2014
Beta'ed: No
Notes: If there's anything worse than losing your mother to dragon pox and then coming to live in a whole different country, with relatives you've never even met before, it's coming to live with relatives who already hate you, for something you didn't even do. That was how Arcturus Sirius Black, secret son of Sirius Orion Black and Lenora Cassandra Malfoy, understood family politics.
Chapter 2: Meeting the Family
Arcturus hadn't been with Marius and Ariadne long when it was announced that he would attend a social event at his mother's family's house, the Malfoy Manor. Of course, the Squibs themselves were not invited, but Arcturus was, despite his unsavoury parentage. Apparently the Blacks and Malfoys wanted to feel out their young member. He was, after all, technically the Heir to the House of Black. If everything continued as it was, he would inherit the ancestral house in London, as well as the Black vault and its impressive contents.
So, Arcturus was taken out and bought fancy dress robes that were itchy and stiff and made him look like a dork and then stuffed into them and sent from London to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. Upon arriving, he quickly found that it was not just the Malfoy and Black families here tonight. Apparently it was a social event for all the pureblood families. Or, at least those who had not been branded blood traitors yet. Witches and wizards of all ages mingled around the room, the men in fancy dress robes like Arcturus's and the women in elegant gowns. It was obviously some sort of ball, but most stood in groups around the edges, gossiping about this or that person and how their father's brother's cousin's niece eloped with a Muggle, oh the dishonour! Arcturus immediately hated it all, just as he'd hated Uncle Marius and Aunt Ariadne and their stupid townhouse and snooty personalities. But if he thought Marius had a rod jammed up his arse, these people must have whole timbers. Some of them looked it too, the way they sneered at others and their misfortunes. Arcturus wasn't so naive to think that he wasn't one of the topics they were scoffing over. He saw the looks as he passed and heard the mutters.
"Sirius Black's son...blood traitor...Murderer...raised with Muggles...practically wild!" Arcturus couldn't help but grin a bit at the last one. 'Well, maybe a little,'he acquiesced silently.
It didn't take long for his age-mates to find him. Like the adults, they ran in groups, also mostly split by gender. The one that approached him was led by a platinum blonde boy, obviously the son of their esteemed host Lucius Malfoy, Draco.
"You're the Black boy," he declared. "The murderer's son." The boy couldn't be older than Arcturus himself, but already he was a pompous ass.
"Yeah," he replied, "that's right. And who are you?" Of course Arcturus knew already, but he enjoyed the boy's reaction to his supposedly not knowing.
"I am Draco Malfoy," he replied, raising his nose as if he'd smelled something rotten, a gesture Arcturus had seen the boy's father make not five minutes before. "Heir of the Malfoy Family."
"Right," Arcturus replied. "And although 'Black boy' and 'murderer's son' both have a nice ring to them, I usually go by Arcturus Black, Heir of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." He enjoyed Draco's look of annoyance. After all, the House of Black was much older than the Malfoy family. The Malfoys were obviously French at some point, whereas 'Black' was British, through and through.
"How old are you?" Draco asked.
"Nine." Again Draco looked annoyed. So obviously the Malfoy heir was younger. He couldn't hold the 'elder' card over him.
"I bet I could beat you in Wizard's Chess," he challenged, finally looking triumphant.
"I doubt it," Arcturus replied. He was well versed in Wizard's Chess and knew all the tricks. His mother had been quite the proficient herself. It was doubtful this kid could provide a challenge.
"Let's find out." And he led his posse out the door of the ballroom and into one of the side parlours where a Wizard's Chess set was already sitting ready. No doubt that was the whole point of this room.
It was a quick game and Arcturus beat Draco thoroughly. He even toyed with him a bit and let Draco get his bishop fairly early in play. But in the end it had been a sweeping defeat and Draco looked thoroughly surly now. "Rematch," he declared. And so they played Wizard's Chess all night and Arcturus beat Draco every time. To the younger boy's credit, though, he did learn from his mistakes. Towards the end of the night, Arcturus had to really start wracking his brains for a move Draco hadn't seen before, something he wouldn't be able to catch on to. The last victory had been much closer than the first few.
"Check mate," Arcturus declared. "Good game." It was becoming a ritual. They'd shake, even though Draco likely hated Arcturus at the moment. It was the proper thing to do, and Draco was all about proper.
"You won't win next time," Draco promised. "I know all your tricks now."
"I'll bet you do," Arcturus retorted, standing and stretching. His back was stiff from sitting hunched over the chessboard for so long. What time was it anyways?
"Next time, bring your broom too. We'll play Quidditch. I have a private pitch outside." Draco seemed very proud of the private pitch and once more confident that he'd beat Arcturus. In Quidditch, it was possible at least. Arcturus wasn't horrible, but he wasn't the best flyer and hadn't had much practice, living where he had where it was easy for Muggles to see what was happening the in small yard they had behind their apartment building. If Draco had a private pitch, chances are he'd gotten a bit more practice, even if he was younger. Arcturus would have to try to find a way to practice between now and the next social event.
When he got back to Marius's house, he quickly changed and settled down to sleep, however his mind was still going over the night. It hadn't been fun, but it hadn't been horrible either. He'd played a lot of chess and had all but forgotten the stiff collar of his dress robes that was practically choking him when he'd left the house. Arcturus decided he didn't like Draco any more than Uncle Marius, Aunt Ariadne, or Lucius Malfoy. But at least the boy could provide an ample distraction. And if he had to go to those social events, better to spend the time with people closer to his age than to wander the swarms of adults and listen to all the dirt they say about each other and his parents.
Come the next time, Draco made true on his word. Arcturus brought a broom and Draco thoroughly thrashed him. Granted, Arcturus was extremely rusty and at a disadvantage since those on his team didn't really like him or knew him, but Arcturus was fairly certain Draco could've beaten him one-on-one too. He was good. Not great, but good at least, for someone his age. Arcturus found out that Draco was eight, though he would be nine very soon. Draco's birthday was June 5th, and Arcturus was invited, albeit reluctantly at first.
"I suppose you can come, though I doubt you'd know anybody." The group Draco hung out with normally consisted of mostly boys and one girl. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were both more brawn than brains and so thoroughly inbred, Arcturus wondered how they even functioned. Theodore Nott was Draco's sidekick, echoing almost everything Draco said and practically worshiping the ground he walked on. Pansy Parkinson was the only girl and if an eight-year old could have arm candy, she'd be Draco's. She constantly fawned over him and sang his praises. Arcturus was fairly certain Pansy already heard wedding bells, though Draco seemed not in the least bit interested in her in that way. He only tolerated her because his parents told him to and she could play a decent game of Exploding Snap.
This group Arcturus got to know at all the social events and soon became, not part of their group, but accepted as a tagalong, at least. Arcturus actually made a point not to become one of Draco's cronies. It wasn't just because Arcturus was older than him. Arcturus wasn't a crony. He was more of the 'loner' type. The others seemed to recognize that and were perfectly happy to let him be that way. They tolerated him because Draco was constantly competing with him. Every time Arcturus saw him, it was something new, a new game, or maybe a rematch of an old one because Draco had learned a new move, technique, or manoeuvre. The one thing Draco could never beat Arcturus at, though, was Wizard's Chess. Arcturus remained the victor in that, whether they played once or a hundred times. Draco was never satisfied with that, though, so Arcturus was often reaffirming that title.
Draco became his competitor, a rival of sorts. The adults saw it and thought it poetic. The Heirs of two of the richest, most outstanding pureblood families, competing against one another. The fact that both were half-Black, half-Malfoy only added to the adults' amusement. It was like they were fighting over who was the true heir of both houses. Neither boy saw it that way, but that's what the adults thought. Lucius Malfoy even went so far as to pull Arcturus aside privately one evening, before Draco could drag him off for whatever match they were having that night.
"I see you have become close to my son," he commented.
"I wouldn't say close," Arcturus replied.
"Yes. I suppose friendly adversaries would be a more fitting description," Lucius agreed. "And who often wins these 'matches' you have?"
"It depends," Arcturus told him.
"On?"
"On the game. On the night. On whether or not I want to hear Draco's whinging or his bragging for the rest of the night."
Lucius looked put out at the slight insult to his son, but he held it together and his voice and manner stayed purely informal. "Yes, well, I suppose nobody likes to lose. Good luck tonight, Mr. Black."
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Arcturus replied, nodding a slight bow, more in mockery of Lucius's sudden formality rather than any feeling of respect he might have. Lucius obviously didn't see it that way, though, because he smiled a little and returned the short bow, apparently approving.
'Great, they approve of me,' Arcturus thought. 'That's never good.' That night he routed Draco in Gobstones.