Chapter 6

The New Heir

September 6th, 1975

Rigel had seen neither hide nor hair of Adalene since Remus' unfortunate discovery. Rigel didn't even know how it had happened, either.

'I've gotten myself deep in it now. If Grandfather hears about this, he will be most displeased. Best keep it to myself for now.'

He was also dealing with the fallout of what had happened in the Dueling Pit, both with his house and with his friends.

Slytherin House now looked upon him with either awe or trepidation. They did not wish to anger him, especially after seeing Bellatrix writhe in agony upon his use of the Cruciatus. Subduing Bellatrix was not an easy task, and many had witnessed the difficulty. While she did not truly challenge him, she also was not a foe to be scoffed upon.

As for his friends, it was a mixed reaction.

James was obviously disturbed by seeing the Cruciatus Curse used, but he was hiding it well. Sirius, seemingly falling in with his darker tendencies, looked upon Rigel with newfound respect, although Rigel suspected he was happier with Bellatrix being contained rather than his use of the curse. Remus, surprisingly, seemed indifferent and had told him such in private.

Flashback

September 4th, 1975

Rigel was sitting at a table in the library, pouring over some of the elemental magic books he had borrowed from the Black Library. As he was engrossed, he did not notice Remus approach him.

"Alright, mate?"

Rigel jumped.

"Bloody hell, don't do that Mooney. Yeah, I think I'm fine. I wasn't expecting to use the curse, but… she just made me so mad, Mooney. I can't really describe it."

Remus nodded.

"While I doubt I will ever use that curse, I understand why you did. It was permitted, and she had already used the other Unforgivable on you. I suspect you also wanted to make a statement."

Rigel sighed, leaning his elbows on the table.

"Yeah, I suppose I did. Nobody will mess with Sirius, or me, now."

Remus nodded, "That's true. Just… please don't use it again, okay? I'm sure you know the consequences and not the legal ones."

"I do. I don't plan to use that again, at least not for a while."

Remus frowned.

"Why would you need to use it again?"

"Think about it for a second. First of all, I am now slated to be the most powerful man in Britain, and yes, that's what I will be. I suspect it might be used on Sirius' mother. She did the same to him, you know. He was ten."

Remus' eyes softened.

"I know. I think I'm the only other person that knows that - not even Prongs does. Padfoot and I bonded over my pain during my transformations. He… yeah, I know about it, alright."

End Flashback

Peter seemed to be fearful of Rigel.

'Hopefully, that will scare him away from joining the Death Eaters. Maybe I can make it different this time…'

Rigel sighed internally and hopped out of the shower, putting on his clothes and heading towards the Great Hall.

"Hullo, Prongs."

James looked up from his breakfast and smiled.

"Hey, Greymaw."

Rigel could tell something was bothering James, and he had a suspicion as to what it was.

"Do you think me a dark lord, James?"

James appeared startled by the question, his face turning to one of guilt.

"No, I don't think so. I've just been brought up to believe that any dark magic is horrible and that it corrupts. That's why I was so surprised to see you use it. You're still part of us, of course, and I don't hold any grudge against you. It was just… difficult to watch."

Rigel's face turned thoughtful.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to think I'm old Voldie's apprentice, now would we?"

James grinned.

"No, I don't reckon that would be pleasant."

Rigel grinned back, "No, it wouldn't be."

Rigel started piling food on his plate, the normal banter between him and James returning. It was something he was relieved by; he didn't want to alienate himself from his father within a week of meeting him.

Once Sirius, Remus, and Peter joined, the conversation turned toward prank ideas.

Rigel was inwardly grateful.

Despite his actions in the pit, his friends were still just that; his friends.

(Break)

Voldemort cursed under his breath.

He had hoped to have gotten a moment of peace, but that was apparently not possible with his position.

He turned his attention to the door.

"Enter."

Abraxus Malfoy and Bellamy Rosier entered, sitting down in the chairs across his desk.

"What brings you two here? Good news, I hope?"

Abraxus spoke first, "There have been many happenings since the beginning of the school year, My Lord."

Voldemort raised his eyebrow.

"And what would these be?"

Abraxus smiled. The Dark Lord could almost visualize the silver dripping from his lips.

"I have begun to weave my influence into the Ministry. Unfortunately, since Minchum is still Minister, he is untouchable. What is not untouchable, however, are the heads of the departments. I already have a foothold in the Department of Magical Transportation and the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Voldemort frowned.

"Why would you spend time gathering contacts in a department that deals with animals?"

Abraxus grinned, a gesture that did not suit his usual cold demeanor.

"What will the public do when they face werewolves and vampires, My Lord?"

Voldemort smiled.

As much as his lower followers thought, he was not invincible, nor was he infallible. While he was almost certainly immortal, his body could still be destroyed, and he relied on the knowledge and wisdom of his Inner Circle more than he would speak aloud.

"Good work, Abraxus. You continue to prove to me why you are among my most faithful."

Voldemort turned towards Bellamy.

"And you, Bellamy?"

Bellamy sighed.

"I have an insight into the future of what we might face since I have two children at Hogwarts."

'That would be useful. He can bring me ideas as to who I should be focusing my attention on.'

"And what are your opinions?"

Bellamy sat a little straighter in his chair.

"While I doubt my daughter will join the cause, I am almost certain my son, Evan, will. He is very gifted and will serve your purposes well."

Voldemort nodded, "Anything else?"

"Obviously, Slytherin House should be your main target for recruitment, although I wouldn't discount Ravenclaw."

Voldemort agreed with the man's assessment. Ravenclaw, while not known for producing dark wizards, had indeed housed a few over the years.

"And the others?"

Bellamy shook his head.

"You would be foolish to attempt to recruit from Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. You and I both know they are almost completely full of light wizards or Dumbledore bootlickers."

Voldemort felt a surge of anger at the mention of the old fool.

'Dumbledore will fall, along with the castle and the rest of Britain. It is mine.'

"Very well. You may go, Bellamy."

Bellamy stood and bowed, then took his leave.

"My Lord?"

Voldemort sighed.

"You need not call me that in private, Abraxus. You know this."

Abraxus nodded, "I know, Tom. I just like to show you the same respect you show me. You have not asked for any of my gold or my child, although I highly suspect Lucius will join on his own. If I may ask, why do you let me call you that name still? I know that you hate it."

Voldemort shifted in his chair.

"You knew me as Tom, long ago, and it is not fair to you to ask that you remove that name from your vocabulary. The only people I allow to call me that name, in private of course, are you, Lord Lestrange, Lord Nott, and Mulciber. The only reason is because you knew me in school."

Abraxus nodded, turning his attention back to the school.

"Lucius has informed me of a few interesting developments with the Black Family."

Voldemort frowned.

While he was in the early stages of targeting the Blacks for recruitment, change was not something he had anticipated.

"What are these changes?"

Abraxus sighed.

"Apparently, there was a hidden son named Rigel. He is Sirius' twin, though not identical. Lord Black has named Rigel his new heir. It appears that Sirius did not want it. Now, even if we killed off Rigel, Sirius would inherit again before going to Regulus. Killing one heir can be deemed as an accident, but two would be found out immediately. The Black fortune is out of reach, for now."

Voldemort was not furious, but he was displeased. The Black coffers could have seriously helped the future war effort.

"What house is he in? Gryffindor, like his brother?"

Surprisingly, Abraxus shook his head.

"No, he is in Slytherin. Surprised me too, to be honest, but I suppose he is more like his family than I originally believed."

'If he is in Slytherin, perhaps he could be persuaded to join the cause…'

"What else do you know about him?"

Abraxus' face took on a look of discomfort.

"As you know, I still speak to Horace occasionally, and more so once Lucius entered Hogwarts. Lucius wrote me a letter three days ago that has me disturbed. Do you remember the Duelling Pit?"

Voldemort smirked.

Of course he remembered it; it was where he made his name and reputation. He had only dueled three times, however, every one of them had been higher-ups in Slytherin. It was the beginning of when Dumbledore truly became worried.

"Yes, of course. What happened?"

Abraxus drew a deep breath.

"On the morning of the second, Lucius, along with the Lestrange and Rosier heir, asked Rigel Black to sit at the Slytherin table since he chose company at the Gryffindor table. Surprisingly, he accepted and went to sit with them. Not even a minute into the conversation, Rigel made a comment to Lucius that he had an affinity for dark magic and had beaten Lord Black in a duel. Bellatrix, in her rage, challenged Rigel to the dueling pit."

Voldemort was curious. If he truly had an affinity for dark magic, he could definitely be recruited.

"Bellatrix defeated him, I hope? Surely a child at the age of 15 could not comfortably spar with her."

Abraxus shook his head, "I think it would be best if you were to watch the memory, Tom. Lucius provided it with his letter."

Waving his hand, a pensieve floated out from underneath a desk. It was one of the first things Voldemort had made upon leaving Borgin and Burke's; his runes in school were impeccable.

"Let us watch, then."

(Break)

October 9th, 1975

Having made it through a month of school, Rigel noticed a few things that seemed off; different than what he thought they would have been.

Voldemort was quieter than he remembered. He had done extensive research before leaving in 1999, and he did remember that Voldemort had started his reign of terror around halfway through the September of 1975. This was not the case, and Rigel could only assume it was because of him.

Closer to home, he noticed that James was not relentlessly pursuing Lily. According to his godfather, James asked her out just about every day, and James hadn't done it since a few weeks ago, which was what he was currently on his way to speak to James about.

"Hey mate, can we talk for a second?"

James lifted his eyes up from the book he was reading in the Great Hall and frowned.

"Sure, is it anything bad?"

Rigel laughed, "No, no. It's just- I noticed you haven't been chasing Lily around. What's up with that?"

James sighed.

"I don't even know if I can explain it without me sounding like a bigot."

Rigel's eyebrows rose.

"I'm not going to judge you, Prongs."

James sat up and fixed Rigel with a stare.

"I've been thinking a lot recently about why I had been chasing her. I finally figured out that it was because I'm a pureblood; I've always had what I've wanted, and when I couldn't have her, it drove me nuts. I think I've gotten over it. There's also something else…"

Rigel sat across from James. The Great Hall was mostly empty; Sirius was most likely snogging a girl somewhere, Remus was studying, and knowing Peter, he was probably asleep. Everyone else was in the dorms as it was close to curfew. Rigel knew he could find James here because, as much of an idiot as he made himself, he did like to read and usually did it alone.

"You haven't sounded like a bigot at all Prongs, why did you mention it?"

James looked ashamed.

"This is where it comes in. After I heard Sirius tell me he wouldn't marry a muggleborn witch, I started thinking myself. While the Potters aren't part of the sacred 28, they're as good as. The only reason we're not is that we had a muggleborn marry into the family around 3 centuries ago. If I married Lily, I would be the first Potter since 1642 to marry a witch that wasn't of pureblood. Do not get me wrong, I have absolutely nothing against them, but I feel like I would be disgracing my heritage by doing that."

Rigel was stunned.

'It's strange to think I probably won't be born in this timeline.'

"Well, what are you going to do?"

James sighed miserably.

"I don't know yet. My father will have to approve the marriage."

Rigel's face morphed into one of confusion.

'If that's the case, how did he marry Lily in my timeline? I know Charlus didn't die until an attack in 1979.'

"I thought your family didn't care that much about stuff like that?"

James scoffed, "My parents gave me the illusion of it. While we indeed embrace muggleborns, I imagine my parents would have been at least displeased if I married one. I know for a fact my father would take away my trust fund if I did so."

'That's why he was an auror before they went into hiding. My biological grandfather took away his trust fund until he became Lord.'

"What? That doesn't make sense, Prongs. They like them but would be angry if you married one."

"It's all about tradition. If I married a muggleborn, the Potter magic would most likely become weaker. The only reason for me to marry a muggleborn or a half-blood would be if we had a dormant magical trait that needed reviving. For example, I know the Blacks haven't had a metamorph in almost 250 years."

'This isn't even something I learned in Unspeakable training. Must be a close-kept secret among the pureblood families.'

"So, if a pureblood marries a muggleborn, the family magic becomes weaker but a trait can be revived?"

James nodded, "Right in one. I know it seems to contradict itself but usually, the trait reviving also maintains the strength of the family magic. The reason it's so important is that most families, including the Potters, have to be accepted by the family magic to become Lord. When Samuel Potter married a muggleborn in 1642, his son wasn't able to take the Lord's position. The Potter family had a vacant Wizengamot seat for nearly 50 years until Samuel's grandson, Jason, was born in 1674 and he took the seat in 1691. Needless to say, we've been pureblood ever since."

"Wouldn't that make your family blood-traitors?"

James shook his head.

"It's funny how that works, actually. If a member of your family 'sullies' the blood, your family is labeled as blood-traitors for two generations. We were elevated once again when Jason's son became Lord. Wouldn't you know all this since, well…. Y'know?"

Rigel internally panicked for a moment. This was territory James couldn't get into; his past.

"Nah. I was sent off at the ripe age of 10, so I didn't really have time to absorb anything my parents spouted at me."

James nodded in understanding.

"Makes sense."

Rigel smirked at the idea of how he was about to tease James.

"So, Prongsie, who's taking to your eye nowadays?"

James' neck became red.

'Oh yeah, I've got him.'

He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?"

James turned redder if such a thing was possible.

"I said, Narcissa Black."

Rigel's eyes bulged out of his head.

"My bloody cousin!?"

"Keep your voice down!"

"I can talk however bloody loud I want when you want to shag my cousin, thank you very much."

James' head hit the table.

"How do you even plan to pull it off? You know she's with that git Lucius. She's also a year ahead of us, mate."

"I don't bloody know! Well, actually, I might have an idea."

Rigel raised an aristocratic eyebrow.

"And, pray tell, what would that be?"

James smirked.

'Uh oh.'

"I see her in the library sometimes, and Lucius isn't there. Maybe I can worm my way in."

Rigel did not like the sound of that.

It was bound to end in disaster, but he would let James make a fool of himself.

(Break)

November 2nd, 1975

Sitting on his bed inside the curtains, Sirius reached deep inside his mind.

For the past 3 weeks, Sirius had intensely developed his Occlumency shields with Rigel testing him once a week.

He was surprised at how much of a "mindscape" a wizard could make.

Most wizards don't even accomplish that; they just have an average ability to repel Leglilemncy probes and some attacks.

Sirius looked upon his mindscape.

He had constructed a manor similar of that to his grandparents'.

It had 4 four floors, with each floor housing a different set of memories. He had scaled it to where the higher up you went, the more secret they became.

The first floor was most of the memories of the Marauders. It included when they first met on the train, their pranks, and most of their conversations. He decided to put them there because, while his memories with his mates were precious, they would be of little interest to someone looking for information.

The second floor was a mix of miscellaneous things and his early life as a child. While he was hated by the time he was a teenager, most didn't know his upbringing until around the age of eight was not terrible. What he did do, however, was add some defenses on this floor. Each memory an invader looked at invokes a sense of fear, even though there was none.

The third floor became more important. It included his memories of his childhood after his first year, the more secret conversations with the Marauders, and some of his nefarious activities while in school. No one needed to know what he and Marlene got up to in a broom closet, after all. This floor added, along with the sense of fear, real danger. If an attacker went on this floor, all the doorknobs burned to the touch, and the windows did not show the outside; they acted as a mirror to show you things that kept you on edge.

The fourth floor contained his most guarded and precious memories. They included meeting Rigel, finding out who his parents were, becoming an animagus, the family secrets his grandfather had told him, and the creation and usage of the Marauder's Map.

He was rather proud. According to Rigel, what he had accomplished in the span of four months was something most wizards did not in five years of regular practice. He suspected it was due to his original training when he was younger by his father.

That invoked a sense of sadness within him.

While his father never stopped Walburga, he also wasn't there at the worst parts; he only saw the superficial arguments.

He never saw his wife cast the Cruciatus curse on his own son.

Sirius suspected if he saw or found out, he would have expelled his mother from the family or at least exiled her.

Shaking his mind of those thoughts, he headed to the Room of Requirement so that Rigel could test him.

Entering, Rigel smiled at the sight of him.

"How are you, Siri? Been snogging McKinnon lately?"

Sirius flushed.

"I'll have you know I do no such thing," turning his nose indignantly in the air.

Rigel scoffed.

"I smell her all over you."

Sirius huffed, "Whatever, let's get on with it. I think I might be ready."

Rigel nodded.

"We'll see. Legilimens!"

(Break)

Rigel looked around in wonder.

He did not believe that Sirius would have come this far in the span of 4 months, but he was determined, and it showed.

Entering the manor before him, Rigel noticed things that were curious.

If he looked closely, he could see an indication of what the memories were, and they were usually hidden in items. If you touched them, you were brought in.

He noticed a dining room table that had a stag carved into it.

'Prongs.'

Putting his hand on it, he was whirled into a train compartment.

Sirius sat downtrodden in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

Rigel could tell that something must have happened at home beforehand.

Sighing, an 11-year-old Sirius closed his eyes and slumped in his seat. As he did so, a knock sounded on the compartment door. When it opened, it revealed a boy with dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and round-rimmed glasses.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Sirius looked irritated.

"Sure. I don't care."

James sat and then frowned.

"Shouldn't you be more excited to go to Hogwarts? I mean, we're going to be learning magic!"

Rigel smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. Rigel, or Harry, had been the same way if a little apprehensive.

"Trust me, I've seen enough of it. I hate my family. Gits."

"Who is your family? You don't look like a muggleborn."

Sighing, Sirius looked dreadfully at James. Rigel suspected Sirius thought James would run at the mention of his last name.

"Sirius Orion Black."

While looking a little surprised, James flashed a giant grin on his face and took Sirius' hand, shaking it rapidly.

"James Charlus Potter."

Rigel once again stood in the dining room.

"That's a good memory, Siri."

Sirius spoke from behind him, "I know."

Rigel jumped.

"Merlin, don't creep up on me, you bastard."

Sirius laughed, "Come on, I think you've seen enough of poking around my brain. It gets extremely dangerous as you go up and I don't want you getting hurt."

Rigel nodded, "I think you're ready. You can start with a spell tonight to ease into it."

As they came out of his mind, Rigel stood up from his chair.

"I told you I would teach you the Cruciatus Curse once you've got a hold on your mind. You now do. I am trusting you, Siri, so don't make me lose it."

Sirius nodded solemnly.

"I won't."

Sirius looked determined.

"So, how does it work?"

Rigel flicked his wand into his hand and conjured a mouse, along with a table and a glass box he put the mouse in.

Sirius looked gobsmacked at Rigel's casual display of advanced transfiguration.

"The Cruciatus Curse is much like the Killing Curse in terms of intent to cast; however, it is more dangerous on the caster's mind. Instead of a feeling of hate to cause death, you need a twisted sense of the desire for your victim to live, if only for the cause of suffering. It is what is dangerous. The Killing Curse is over in less than a second. The Cruciatus, when cast, obviously causes your victim to suffer unimaginable pain. As they write and scream on the ground, your mind is fed with genuine delight from seeing them suffer. You most likely noticed in my duel with Bellatrix, Professor Slughorn had to stop me. I was ahead of myself and out of practice with that curse; if he hadn't stopped me, I would have continued. Sirius, I felt glee as my own cousin screamed on the ground like an animal being slaughtered. Keep that in mind."

Sirius' face looked grim at the speech.

"Maybe it isn't a good idea…"

"No. You will learn it. Just like every other piece of magic, this also has its use."

Despite looking apprehensive, Sirius nodded.

"Okay… well, what will I practice it on?"

Rigel nodded approvingly, "Good question. What is an animal you hate? Or at least an animal that resounds with bad memories?"

Sirius thought for a moment before his face darkened.

"Snakes. They're on every bloody doorknob in Grimmauld Place, and it only got worse after I wasn't sorted into Slytherin."

Rigel looked slightly uncomfortable at the thought of his brother torturing a snake but nodded nonetheless.

"Serpensortia."

Rigel froze it for a moment before turning to Sirius.

"Now think of a memory that can be associated with someone you hate. As the feeling of it begins in your mind, focus on it with your magic. Then, cast the curse. The most important thing is that while you do need to focus on it, allow your Occlumency barriers to keep it from invading the rest of your mind; keep it locked in a room in that Manor of yours."

Rifle saw the look of intense focus on Sirius' face before it darkened.

"I'm ready."

After seeing Rigel mod and unfreeze the snake, Sirius cast.

"Crucio!"

The snake unraveled from its threatening coil and stretched longly onto the ground, twitching. It moved as though a thousand little daggers were dragging along its scales - as if a fire burned within. After meeting Rigel's eyes, Sirius stopped.

Rigel's eyebrows rose.

"It was impressive that you were able to stop that fast. I wasn't."

Sirius scoffed, "You're a better wizard than me."

Rigel shook his head, "It isn't about who is a better wizard; it's about who has more control over their emotions. I didn't."

Sirius nodded.

"What now?"

Rigel sighed.

"This is what I wasn't looking forward to. We need to do pain control."

Sirius' face looked ashen.

"W-what is that?"

Rigel conjured a pair of chairs and took a seat, Sirius following.

"It's where you learn to push the pain out of your focus, effectively neutralizing the Cruciatus curse. It isn't permanent, but it does allow you to fight back. It also takes longer for your mind to break."

"Ar- are you saying we use it on each other?!"

Rigel nodded, his resolve not breaking.

"That is exactly what I'm saying. When the curse hits you, reach into your mindscape and try to draw your physical pain into an enclosed space. It actually doesn't take that long maybe three or four tries."

Sirius looked on the verge of panic.

"Yeah, three or four times under the Cruciatus curse! I can't do that to you!"

Rigel shook his head.

"You can, and you will. As I said, it only takes a few tries. If we get it down now, we won't ever have to do it again. Stand up."

Sirius shakily stood and walked to the opposite position of Rigel.

"You will be doing it on me first. Keep it going for five to ten seconds."

Sirius raised his hand, his wand trembling.

"Crucio!"

Rigel let out a scream for but a moment.

Sirius watched him drop to one knee, and then raise his head to look him in the eye with a smirk on his face.

Sirius stopped the spell.

Rigel stood, legs shaking almost unnoticeably.

"Ready?"

'Fuck me.'

"Crucio!"

Sirius screamed and dropped to the floor.

Rigel was about to stop the spell when Sirius stopped twitching. Curious, he kept the spell going. Sirius slowly rose to his feet, his face in a permanent grimace, but standing nonetheless.

Stopping the spell, Rigel whooped.

"Good job, Siri! Now we can never do that again."

Sirius shakily laughed and hugged his brother.

"What if James and the others find out, and I'm alone because they think I'm dark?"

Rigel realized Sirius was crying on his shoulder.

"You'll always have me. I love you, Sirius."

(Break)

The Marauders were eating in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table, Rigel with them.

"So, Rigel. What will you do now that you have control over who Bellatrix marries?"

Rigel sighed.

"I'm not sure yet. She needs to be treated in a facility before I choose anyone."

"What?!"

"Oh, shite. We've done it now, mate."

Rigel scowled.

"What do you mean, 'choose anyone'?! That's barbaric!"

Rigel rubbed his temples.

"Evans, you have no clue what you're talking about."

Lily fumed.

"Just because I'm not a bloody pureblood doesn't mean I can't voice my opinion!" She spat the word with distaste.

Surprisingly, before Rigel could speak, James intervened.

"Actually, yes it does Evans. You haven't an idea what you're speaking of. Just because the Wizarding World doesn't conform to your views doesn't mean you have the right to tell all of us that we're backward and 'barbaric' as you put it. There's a lot more at play."

Lily paused, mouth agape.

Seemingly, she hadn't expected the boy who had spent years pining after her to disagree with her. If anything, she had thought he would have agreed with her, seeing as how the Potters aren't as medieval as the rest.

"What? I don't really see how. He gets to choose who she spends the rest of her life with!"

"Yes, Evans, I do! I won that right in a duel. I humiliated her. She learned her place, which is beneath me. I am the heir of The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. She is the daughter of a second son. She is nothing in this family. I told her the terms, to which she agreed, and then she lost. She knew the stakes. Now she just doesn't get to marry dear ol' Rolphie. So sad, I must say."

Sirius snorted, as did James.

Lily looked absolutely furious, but said nothing, leaving her seat and storming out of the hall.

"Good dodge, Prongs."

James turned red but nodded his agreement.

"Speaking of, who are you after now?"

At Sirius' question, James conveniently looked at his bacon as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"No one."

Sirius grinned, propping his elbows on the table and flattering his eyelashes at him.

"Is it me, Prongs? I must say, I'm quite flattered, but I don't quite play for that quidditch team."

James threw a sausage at Sirius.

"Shut up Padfoot."

(Break)

November 9th, 1975

James walked into the Hogwarts Library, a place he was admittedly not familiar with. Looking around, he spotted Narcissa Black, soon to be Malfoy, seated at a table, her head in a book.

'How do I go about doing this? Maybe a blunt approach will work? No… Maybe I'll borrow some of that Slytherin cunning from Rigel…'

James walked over to the table and stood awkwardly until Narcissa noticed him.

Looking up from her book, which James noticed was named 'The Delicate Art of Healing; an Intermediate Introduction.'

She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

James fidgeted.

"I was wondering if you could help me in my 5th year Runes class."

"And what would I get in turn?"

James cursed internally.

Thinking fast, he responded, "I'll let you borrow books from the Potter Library. Within reason."

Her eyebrows raised to her hairline.

"That is… quite an offer, Mr. Potter. Why would you do such a thing?"

'Because you're bloody hot.'

"Maybe I just want to get to know you better?"

Clearly not believing a word out of his mouth, she snorted.

"Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Six to seven-thirty. Do not be late."

James nodded, internally cheering like a child would.

"Of course, Ms. Black. I shall see you tonight, then?"

Narcissa looked thoughtful before nodding. It was a Wednesday.

"Yes. Be here at six."

James grinned, "Of course, my lady," before walking out of the library, not noticing the blush upon her cheeks.

(Break)

Arcturus Black sat in his study, a cigar in his mouth and a glass of whiskey in his hands.

Recently, he had received enough marriage offers for Rigel to fill up the family vault.

"Bloody pricks."

He continued shuffling through the offers only to pause as he noticed a rather haughty-looking owl outside his window. Rising out of his chair, he walked to the window and let the owl inside.

"What do you bring to me?"

The owl held out its leg, a letter dangling in the air. Once he took it, the owl flew to an empty perch and put its head under its wing, evidently not being one for conversation. Huffing, Arcturus shuffled back to his chair and looked at the crest under the wax seal.

Inside a black and white shield, a wand could be seen crossed with a sword with the words 'Knights of Walpurgis' written underneath. Raising an eyebrow, he opened the letter and began to read.

Dear Lord Arcturus Black,

I write to you with a warm welcome.

As you can see from the seal, I write from an organization known as the Knights of Walpurgis.

I would like to congratulate you on the naming of your new heir, Mr. Rigel Black.

I must say, I find that he intrigues the organization. Ah, I forget myself. Who am I to not explain who we are?

The Knights of Walpurgis are a group of like-minded individuals with the purpose of preserving our sacred traditions and customs of Wizarding Britain. We aim not to harm or kill, but to protect and prosper.

It is our belief that if your new heir were to join us, he could truly make a difference in the tide to overwhelm Britain soon. It is our fear that our noble cause will not be well received and that Wizarding Britain will turn to war in order to halt our goal.

I, and the organization, humbly request that should you be interested, we would like to meet with you and your heir over the Yule Holidays.

If you are so inclined, this letter will act as a portkey between seven and seven-thirty on the evening of December 23rd.

You have my magical vow that neither I nor anyone else with us will attempt to harm your or heir, nor shall we stop you from leaving at any time.

Sincerely,

A Friend.

Witnessing the paper glow golden upon his reading of the vow given, he sat back in his chair.

Arcturus was no fool.

He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this letter was most likely written by either the Dark Lord or one of his inner-circle followers.

Oh yes, he remembered the so-called Knights of Walpurgis.

His son Orion, having started Hogwarts in 1940, had written to him about it years later.

Tom Riddle was a third-year Slytherin when his son started school. Tom was still a nobody-mudblood in 1940, but by 1945, he had his power base. Orion had started writing to him asking to join the very same group that wrote to Arcturus now, but he had absolutely forbade it. If a Black wasn't the leader, it wasn't valuable enough to be in; especially if it was led by a mudblood.

That had at least been his thoughts at the time.

Who knew that Tom Riddle would grow to be one of the most dangerous Dark Lords in the last 500 years?

Sighing, he began thinking of the possibilities.

'If I do what I'm about to, this could lead down a very poor road, but it might be necessary. I need to have a talk with Sirius and Rigel before the end of Yule.'

(Break)

"You want to what?"

Currently, Albus Dumbledore sat quite perplexed behind his ornate desk.

Arcturus Black truly was an enigma.

"I want Rigel to join the Death Eaters."

Albus rubbed his temples.

"Why, may I ask?"

"Think about it. I mean really think about it."

Albus thought about it.

He still thought it was a rather poor idea.

"I do not see the gain in this, Lord Black."

Arcturus sighed.

"If he joins, we can get information no one else can. You and I also both know he is in a position to become Tom's most valuable, above even Abraxus. We, Rigel and I, have a meeting with him over the Yule Break."

Albus' eyes widened.

"You do?"

Arcturus nodded severely.

"Yes, he wrote me a letter the other day using the Knights of Walpurgis as his moniker."

Albus' eyebrows rose.

"I haven't heard that name since probably the 40s."

Arcturus nodded, "That was what he called his group whilst he was still in school."

"So, what other benefits do you see to this?"

Acturus leaned forward.

"Besides intel, he will most likely be able to protect more than would be. Especially my family."

Albus understood. Arcturus put his family before everything.

"You do realize he will be forced to do unspeakable things?"

"He is able."

He was, and Albus knew it. He, and Tom for that matter, would be weary to cross wands with him. While he heavily doubted either of them would lose in a duel against him, Albus was not quite certain that he would walk away with everything intact.

Arcturus reminded him of that. When he had seen Arcturus duel Gellert, even though he was waning, he had managed to land a rather unpleasant cutting curse across Gellert's face, a scar he still carried to this day in Nurmengard.

"That he is."