Chapter One - The New Heir of House Black

In the clandestine corners of the wizarding world, where ancient tapestries whispered secrets and the darkness concealed untold mysteries, a young heir found himself at the nexus of a fate he had never foreseen. Regulus Artucrus Black, often overshadowed by the audacious figure of his elder brother, Sirius Orion Black, was thrust into the center of a whirlwind of change that would forever alter the course of his life.Their home, the House of Black London Apartment, stood as a timeless testament to tradition and power, a shadowy domain veiled in secrets and obscurities. Within these hallowed walls, Regulus, the dutiful son, and Sirius, the irreverent rebel, had been raised under the stern gaze of their mother, Walburga Black. Yet it was Sirius who dared defy the family's age-old principles, a choice that would sever his ties to their lineage and alter the destiny of the Most Noble House of Black.

Regulus Black sat imprisoned in a dimly lit chamber for hours, a reluctant audience to the ceaseless tirades of his mother. He felt as though he'd been thrust into the heart of a dramatic turn of fate, unlike any he had ever anticipated. Regulus, the once overshadowed son, had now been designated the heir to the ancient and enigmatic House of Black. The chain of events that had led to this moment was shrouded in mystery. His brother, the infamous Sirius Orion Black, had made an audacious, permanent escape to the Potter's Manor. This act had severed his ties to the family and erased his presence from their storied tapestry, all under the furious gaze of their mother, Walburga Black.

"That blood traitor, that good-for-nothing rebel! Regulus, I command you, under no circumstances shall you associate with that menace! He is a stain on this family's honor!" Walburga Black's voice rang through the room, sharp and cutting.

"Yes, Mother," Regulus responded obediently, his gaze fixed on the charred visage of his brother in the family tapestry. This day was something he'd feared for years, ever since Sirius defied their mother by being sorted into Gryffindor at Hogwarts. To Regulus, only madness seemed to run in their family.

Intruding upon the tense scene, Regulus's father, Orion Black, appeared at the chamber's entrance, his absence during Sirius's return from Hogwarts still a mystery. He surveyed the room, his face a mask of unreadable emotions, and his eyes fell on the charred image of their eldest son in the tapestries.

"I understand," he said, breaking the silence. The head of the Most Noble House of Black walked toward Regulus and placed a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, a gesture weighted with significance.

"Walburga, it appears we must prepare for the 'Coming Out Ball for the New Black Heir.' I entrust you with the task of managing the guest list and making the necessary arrangements," he directed his wife. Turning back to Regulus, his eyes conveyed his unspoken expectations. "You are on the cusp of turning fifteen on the second Sunday of August. Do you comprehend the implications of this?"

"Yes, Father," Regulus replied, sensing his father's desire for a more detailed response. "It means that I must prepare myself to assume the role of the heir."

His father nodded, concealing his thoughts behind a stoic facade. "Very well. I expect nothing less from you. You are dismissed." He turned to his wife. "It seems, Walburga, that I must leave once more."

"Again?!" his mother exclaimed, her discontent palpable. "But you've only just returned! We have so much to plan and do, especially with the Ball for our son just two weeks away."

"Yes, again. As you can see, you have dispossessed us of our eldest son. There are matters that demand my immediate attention, considering the substantial changes regarding the rightful heir."

With an internal sigh, Regulus left the chamber the moment his father released him. It was only the second week of summer break, the date being July 27, 1976, with his fifteenth birthday approaching on August 8.

He retreated to his room, casting a Muffliato charm, and let loose his frustration by destroying whatever he could find. Lately, he had found solace in the Muggle method of venting. Now that he was the heir, the comfort of his room had lost its appeal. He couldn't help but emit a bitter laugh; he had finally become the heir, an unwanted burden thrust upon him due to Sirius's recklessness. His fury knew no bounds as he became the receptacle for all of Sirius's perceived responsibilities.

"Kreacher," he summoned with a pop, and the house-elf materialized in front of him. The tiny creature let out a squeak upon seeing the state of Regulus's room.

"Little Master has called for Kreacher? Is Master Reggy need something, sir?" Kreacher inquired, leaning forward to examine Regulus for any signs of harm.

Regulus sighed. "I am unharmed, Kreacher. I appreciate your concern. Please restore the room to its former state and then bring me some firewhiskey in the library."

"Yes, Master," the elf acknowledged, vanishing with another pop. Regulus found himself in the library, scanning the shelves absentmindedly. He selected a book and settled into his favorite reading spot near the window.

"Of the Horcrux, the most wicked of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction," he read before turning the book to reveal its title, "Magick Moste Evile," written by Godelot, a tome on Dark magic.

"What on earth?" he exclaimed. The book had captured his full attention, and he delved deeper into its contents, a mix of fascination and disquiet taking hold of him.

"A Horcrux is an object in which a Dark wizard or witch hides a fragment of their soul, with the intent of achieving immortality. To create a Horcrux, a wizard must deliberately commit murder. This act, seen as the epitome of evil, damages the murderer's soul. The wizard then uses this damaged portion of the soul to cast a spell that separates it from the whole and encases it in an object. This process involves an unspeakable act. Should the creator meet their demise, they exist in a non-corporeal form, with methods available to regain a physical body."

His musings were interrupted by Kreacher's return. "Master, your firewhiskey has arrived," the elf announced, placing the bottle and a glass on the reading table. Regulus put the book down and traced the embossed letters on its cover. He realized that he hadn't dismissed the elf yet. "Thank you, Kreacher. You are excused," he conveyed with a nod. The diminutive creature disappeared with a final pop. Regulus found himself in contemplation, wondering how this Dark book had found its place in the family library and what secrets it might hold. His immediate concerns, however, were directed toward the looming "Ball."

Author's Note:

Hello, everyone! I'm Eadlyn the 1st.

This is my debut fan fiction. English is not my native language, so please forgive any grammatical errors or misspelled words. The genre of this story is in a gray area, and I'm a major fan of Hermione's character. I enjoy pairing her with almost all the male characters in the "Harry Potter" series, and I particularly love time-travel fics. Today, I decided, why not create one of my own? This isn't a reverse harem story, but rather, a time-travel fic told from the perspective of Regulus Black, with occasional shifts to other characters depending on my mood.

EDIT

10-11-2023

I wrote this last 2016 and my writing skills is autrocious. I am coming back to edit this fic and hopefully finish it. Update is still sporadic.