Shout at the Devil

by MalcolmTent6730

Magic wasn't real. That's what Ryan Black was told for most of his life. It was a truth he believed until about a week after his eighteenth birthday, when he was contacted by his dead dad's estate about his own. Being born a squib he had no reason to be informed, except for a small gift his old man left him. Evil pieces in Harry Potter. AU Hogwarts University. Eventual OC-Multi,

1. Chapter 1

A few warnings here. This one is a Hogwarts University AU. I did this to rearrange the way the school works a bit, changing the classes into a major system you'll see in coming chapters. I know some people don't like that kind of thing, if you're one of those people you should probably skip the story. It's also going to be harem (though not everyone in the peerage will be a harem member), if you aren't a fan of that, give this story a pass. I have most of this listed in the story description, but I wanted to put a note here for anyone who skipped it and because the description cut out a bunch of stuff, I'm hoping to head off AU and Harem complaint comments lol. Oh, and there won't be any DxD elements except the peerage, though you will see expy and crossover elements from plenty of other things, I like expies and canon welding as anyone reading my stories already knows.

"Hey Ryan!" Bellowed a whiny voice from the front of the store. "I'm taking my smoke break. Come man the register!" I groaned. Shelby. I hated working on shift with Shelby. Her low cut tops and frankly absurd tits did nothing to make up for her butterface and whiny voice, not her laziness and refusal to do anything.

If there was any justice in the world she'd have been fired ages ago, but Marcus the manager liked drooling over her abundant rack. I was ALMOST positive she was at least blowing him, because every time she got in trouble for being late or fucking up they had a "talk" in his office and she came out with a warning and a smug smile.

Sarah, the cool eyed, pretty brunette who was helping me stock gave me a sympathetic look. "Sorry bud, but better you than me. I hate running the register at night. The weirdest people come in to buy shit."

She was right. They did. Less of them perved on me than they did Sarah (though the female customers still did it sometimes, and they were never the kind you wanted hitting on you), but they still did weird shit, tried to start fights or bragged about how laid they were getting or bought creepy shit that made me pretty sure they were planning a murder.

I groaned, heading out to the frunt to find Shelby there glaring, tapping her foot at me as she stared at her phone. "Will you hurry up?" She whined. "I've only got a few minutes." I missed her complaint, distracting by the way her foot tapping made her stupendous jugs bounce. Someone hadn't bothered with a bra today.

Shelby looked up and caught me staring at her jiggling glass cutters. "Ugh. You're such a perv, Ryan. I'm going to tell Marcus if you don't cut it out." Despite her tone and words, I saw her smile smugly, crossing her arms to make them pop. Shelby had tried to sleep with me at least twice, and I'd turned her down both times. No amount of rack was worth listening to her talk.

She pouted when I didn't take the bait, and then turned and stalked off, leaving me at the register. I groaned, leaning against the counter and fishing out my own phone. Nothing from any of my friends. Max was working late, Tasha wasn't speaking to me after she found out I fucked her cousin at her last birthday party, Ethan was out of town.

I did see one message though, from my mom. 'Call me immediately. We need to talk.'. I raised an eyebrow, that kind of message would usually be a red flag coming from a woman, but my mom and I were close, even after I'd moved out. My dad had fucked off right after knocking her up, and she'd moved us across the ocean to the US to get away from his batshit crazy family.

I was at work though, and I needed my job to keep my rent paid, so I pocketed the phone with a frown, hoping to get back to it later. There was a ding from the door bell, and I looked up curiously to see...a really weird man standing across from me.

Not weird like the normal night customer weird, REALLY weird. Like, wearing a poncho and a deer stalker hat with sideburns painted onto his chalk white face in what I was pretty sure was shoe polish. "Orion Black?" He said, in a high pitched and nasal english crisp.

My eyes narrowed. No one called me Orion. My dad had insisted on the name when he found out my mom was pregnant, said it was his dad's name, but I hated it. It sounded so cringy and try-hard. I went by Ryan, and the number of people who even knew my birth name could be counted on one hand with fingers left over.

"It's just Ryan." I said firmly. I didn't trust anyone british who knew my birth name. Mom spent most of my life telling me how crazy my dad's family was. Apparently they were some kind of weird blood obsessed aristocracy over there with tons of pull, and they would have been super pissed about dad knocking up a 'commoner'.

He smiled phonily, clearly not caring and just humoring me. "Ryan then. Might we speak in private?"

I gestured to the register. "I'm on shift, dude. You got something to say you can say it here. I doubt it's going to matter."

Grimacing slightly, he reached into a pocket, withdrawing a black box about the size of an envelope, but much thicker and heavier looking. Across the top I could see gilded letters spelling R.A.B. "My name is Philo Hostlethwaite. I'm a solicitor. I'm here to deliver you the last will and testament of Regulus Arcturus Black, as well as bequeath you the gift he ordered held in trust until this point in your life."

I blinked. That...that was my dads name. I mean mom called him Reggie, when she called him anything (except when she was drunk, then she just called him 'that fucker'). I looked around, making sure no one was nearby. Sarah was in the back and if Shelby came back befor the the shift was over I'd eat the register. Sighing, I waved him on. "Ok, fine. Bequeath me then. What did he have to say? Anything interesting?"

He gave me an unamused smile. "Quite." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cream colored envelope with my name scrawled across it in neat, even handwriting. "The explanation will be in this. I recommend you open it when you are alone." Then he turned on his heel and just VANISHED in a crack.

I stared. Then I stared harder. I walked out from behind the register and stomped down a few times. Nothing. No trapdoor, no wires. I looked down at the case still on the counter and the envelope. I put the envelope away. Later, when I was alone, like the man said.

The case though, I just popped the latches and opened it up to find...half a chess set. The pieces were made of some weird crystalline red material that seemed to almost glow, but there was only sixteen of them, so it wasn't even a full set. Lying on top of it was a note in the same calligraphic scrawl as the envelope was adressed in. "For my son, because I finally found an answer. Happy eighteenth birthday- Sincerly yours, Regulus Arcturus Black"

What the fuck? It wasn't my birthday. My birthday had been a week ago. Tasha and I were born on the same day, but she didn't like to share, so I had to have my party a day early. I felt pretty justified in barebacking her cousin in the upstairs bathroom as repayment. Amy was gorgeous and Tasha was ferociously jealous of the busty redhead.

I stared down at the note and the glowing chess pieces and snapped the case shut. Hopefully whatever was in the envelope would help me figure out what was going on.

The rest of my shift flew by, and by the time I was off I was almost too jittery to stand. I bolted for my motorcycle, revving it up and peeling out of the parking lot without bothering with a helmet as usual. I made it home in record time, locked up my bike and then headed up to my apartment, bolting the door four times behind me.

I didn't live in the best neighborhood, and the bolts on the door kept me feeling secure. I looked around my apartment with a sigh, wincing as I took in the beaten up flea market sofa, the shitty shoebox TV, and a coffe table flimsier than most coffee CUPS.

The place was a shithole, but it was my shithole. I wasn't one of those prideful 'do it yourself'-ers. I'd accept help if someone offered, but sadly that wasn't in the cards. Mom worked at a bank, and she'd barely been able to afford to raise me. Dad had left a bit of money, but she'd burned everything he gave her getting us to the US and getting a house and papers.

So when I moved out I had to move into a shack. It was a challenge, even for someone as good looking as me, to get women back to a place this busted, but I managed now and then. Other than the occasional hookup I tried not to spend time here unless I had to. When I was home I was usually either sleeping or getting ready to go out.

I checked my phone again, seeing if anyone called. My moms text was there, but I didn't feel like talking to her. I'd be snappish and she didn't deserve that, so it would make more sense to just wait and call her later. Other than that there was still nothing.

Without anything else to take my mind off it, I took out the envelope and opened it up. It was thick, and I expected a big long explanation of where he'd gone, how he'd gone and gotten himself killed, an apology, but there was just a folded leather folio, thin enough to fit into the envelope without looking distended.

I opened it, and the inside was filled with small unusual things. On one side, a key, something old looking, and a small folded paper with instructions to reach...something. A bank box? I didn't pay too much attention yet. On the other side was a plain silver hand mirror, tarnished and faded. Under the mirror was another set of instructions. Nothing absurd, just a neat little note.

I picked it up, reaching down to lift up the box with my dads initials on it before doing what the note said, feeling pretty stupid. "Arcturus." I said aloud, looking at my reflection in the small mirror while clutching the box with my other hand.

There was no way I'd have followed the instructions before today, no way I'd have said some stupid code word, but...I was curious. That crazy lawyer had fucking TELEPORTED, and I absolutely wanted to know how. Some kind of alien bullshit? Were there fairies or something? Could vampires teleport? That didn't seem like a thing.

Whatever I expected to happen, it was NOT what had taken place after I said the word. I felt a jerk behind my navel, like someone had hooked the center of my being with a metaphysical fishing like that could pull me along but wouldn't hurt.

The world shook, and then began to spin, whirling around me so fast my eyes wanted to cross. I tried not to puke, because that's pansy shit, but it was a near thing, and when the spinning stopped and my feet smashed down into dark stone, I stumbled to the side, feeling sick as hell and barely managing to catch myself before I keeled over.

I breathed through my nose, burping a few times on command to try to fight the nausea (the feeling of having to puke is a gas buildup in your stomach, burping releases the gas and usually stops you from puking). I managed to push down the illness, grinning in triumph as I straightened to look up and around me at the...cave? Or dungeon? Who the fuck knew.

"Oh good. You didn't vomit." Drawled a crisp british voice. I froze, whirling around to try to see who was in here, and when I did I froze solid. Behind me stood a man. A man that looked a LOT like me, though maybe a bit less handsome. Black hair, blue eyes so pale they looked grey, and a familiar raised eyebrow mocking me from somewhere other than the mirror for the first time.

Despite having never seen his face though, I knew it. From an old photo my mom kept in a drawer and took out when she thought I'd gone to sleep sometimes (though only when very drunk). A photo of a beautiful girl with bright green eyes and curly black hair, and the man standing in the picture frame in front of me smirking, not having aged a day. "Huh." I said dully. "Hey dad. How've you been?"

My father, who was apparently dead, was smirking at me off a canvas as what appeared to be some kind of living photograph. "I admit." He said conversationally. "You're taking this better than I'd have expected, given your upbringing. Must be the Black family blood. We always could stay cool under pressure." He paused. "Well, not mother. She had quite a temper."

"Oh I'm freaking out on the inside." I said cheerfully. "Just doesn't seem productive to start hyperventilating. Or I might be in shock. It's probably one of the two." I gestured at his current state. "So is this like a...Dorian Gray kind of thing?" I vaguely remembered the book was about some guy who was immortal because of a painting.

"My name is Regulus Black." He said with a frown. "I'd assumed your mother would have at least mentioned me. Sylvie was quite fond of me during our time together."

I rolled my eyes, trying me best to ignore his blatant lack of cultural awareness. Old people. "Whatever. Back on topic. What's with the painting. I thought you were dead. I've seen some crazy shit tonight, so my old man getting trapped in a painting isn't...completely unbelievable. This why you disappeared when I was a kid?"

He chuckled sadly. "Oh I assure you, I am quite dead. You aren't speaking to a person. Just a portrait. This particular portrait was has my memories up until around the time of my demise. I made arrangements so I could speak to you on or near your eighteenth birthday."

I looked at the mirror in my hand. "You don't say?" I shrugged. "Well, why the dog and pony show? Mom said your family were nobility, and apparently you can do...I guess magic? Talking pictures and teleportation seems like magic. Am I some kind of super powerful magician, hidden from the family as a baby because I was too powerful?" I had to admit. I was kind of getting psyched about this.

"No." He said in a tone that made me feel like an idiot. "You're a squib."

"I don't know what that is." I said flatly. "But it sounds insulting." The word was just...unpleasant. I didn't want to be whatever that was.

He shrugged. "It is, to an extent. But there wasn't much I could do about it. It's a term for a wizard born without the ability to use magic. When Sylvie told me she was pregnant I admit to being...less than enthused. As a mu- muggleborn, she'd have been the last person my family would accept me having a child with. My cousin was disowned for the same thing, and she was the one actually carrying the baby."

"So you left because you were afraid your family wouldn't LIKE me or mom?" I said, the excitement rapidly being consumed by slowly increasing rage. I was suddenly remembering a lot of shit I had always wanted to say to my old man, though it was weird talking to someone about my own age like they were my dad.

If I'd expected him to be apologetic, I'd been sorely mistaken. He shrugged. "I might not have, but when we learned after you were born that you were a squib..." His face finally showed some sign of discomfort. "My mother wasn't well, in the last years of her life. She'd always been volatile, but after my brother ran away, her expectations of me became overwhelming. If she'd found out her grandchild, her only direct heir after me, was a half blood squib?" He shuddered. "She'd have killed you. Then me. Then probably herself."

I blinked. Huh. That actually wasn't a bad reason to bail, all things considered. "Ok. So I was the shameful cripple wizard who can't do magic. Doesn't explain all...this." I gestured to the dimly lit dungeon, basement, whatever. The only thing down here was the portrait and a couple chests pushed against the stone walls.

"I told you in the note." He said with an eye roll. "I found an answer." He paused. "Well...found is a strong term. I bought an answer, from someone I probably should have avoided. I fell in with something of a bad crowd after school, and meeting Sylvie got me out of it. I had to go back in to try to exploit their sources to find a cure for you, and I suspect I found something awful. Whatever it was, I did NOT include it in the memories that made this portrait."

Holding up the box, I showed it off. "This thing? It's half a chess set. Pretty nicely made, granted, but I doubt it'll give me magic powers."

"It will." He said bluntly. Then hesitated. "Well, it would. But it doesn't need to. Squibs HAVE magic, it's just too little to be accessible. It's why muggle repelling charms don't work on them. Regardless, the king piece in that box will fix that. It multiplies your power from anywhere between ten and a hundred times permanently. That'll not only make you a powerful wizard, but give you access to an entirely new kind of magic."

He sounded excited by the possibility, and I couldn't deny I kind of got that. I hadn't known magic was even real, and he was telling me I was going to be some kind of super wizard now? It was a lot to take in, but it was still cool.

"And of course." He went on without slowing down. "I've made sure to time it perfectly for when you start university and leave your muggle life behind."

I paused. "When I...what? What's a muggle, you used that word when talking about mom? And what do you mean leave my life behind. I admit it's not the BEST, but I'm not bailing on all my friends and fucking off to become a wizard."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your manners are atrocious. Sylvie was far too lenient with you. You WILL be leaving behind your muggle life, muggles being non magical people, in order to learn wizardry. Your entrance letter to Hogwarts will be coming soon, and you'll need to relocate to attend the university. It's a prestigious school, and all the Blacks have gone there for generations."

"You want me." I said slowly. "The guy who didn't know magic fucking existed until like two hours ago, to go to an ivy league MAGIC college? How would I possibly keep up? I assume they have some sort of entry requirements, otherwise why the hell would it be a college to begin with?"

He waved me off. "You'll be given an introductory course like everyone else. Magic awakens at puberty, but for muggleborns, they have no method to channel or release it. It builds for a few years and then finally erupts around the age of majority. There will be plenty of muggle raised wizards and witches who need to be brought up to speed."

There was something extremely annoying about being told what you were going to do, and not being able to disagree because who the fuck turns down learning MAGIC. Still, something he said made me curious. "You said muggleborns can't channel or release it. What about...what do you call the ones who aren't muggleborn?"

"Purebloods." He said smugly. "Or half-blood, in your case. Regardless, USUALLY magical children with magical parents are raised learning magic. Such educations are slipshod and unfocused, however, what is good for one wizard may not work for another. As such, when you begin Hogwarts, you'll take introductory courses in all the subjects, some people may be behind or ahead in various subjects, even among the purebloods, so needing to start from the beginning isn't

unexpected. Past your first year you'll choose a major, and begin learning that type of magic to prepare for your career after Hogwarts."

That made some sense at least. If you learned random bits of magic at home, and you sucked at like...blood sacrifice, or whatever the hell they taught at magic school, then you could take a refresher course in that subject. People who were ahead could just skim until they got to new stuff. I'd be behind on everything, if I even went, but it would work out.

"So, say I decide to do this." I said slowly, because as bad as I wanted to learn magic leaving all my friends and moving across the ocean was...daunting. "How do you know I'll be any good at it? What if I'm just a shitty wizard with a lot of power?"

He grinned at me. "You're a Black. You were born for excellence. But even if you hadn't been. The evil pieces give you access to a type of magic that will allow you to learn extremely quickly. Devil magic, the magic of the creature you will become, is intent based. You wish for an effect and then pour power in to achieve it."

"Whoa. What?" I said, slamming to a halt in the conversation. "Devil? Like...it'll turn me into a demon? Am I going to become some crazy evil psycho?"

I didn't much care about the 'losing my humanity' bullshit most people would worry about, but at the very least I didn't want my personality to change.

"No." He said firmly. "I went to great lengths to procure the evil pieces. Despite their names, they won't change you or the others at all. You will still be you. You will simply be a version of you that does not age and occasionally has wings."

I stared at him. "Ok. There was so much what the fuck in that explanation I'm not even sure where to start. Lets go in order. Others? Not age? WINGS?"

He smirked at me. "Of course. You don't think I'd leave you with such an underwhelming gift, do you? The king piece is not the only evil piece that can create a devil. You have fifteen pieces to create yourself fifteen subordinates. They should aid you in restoring the Black family to its former glory. Two bishops with increased magical power, two knights with increased speed, and two rooks with powerful physical with batlike wings summoned on command and an unending lifespan."

"You." I said flatly. "Are TERRIBLE at explaining things. What the actual fuck? Why wouldn't you start with that?" I shook my head, cutting him off. "No. Right. Not a person, just a painting. I shouldn't be surprised...I guess. Or maybe I should, I don't know the fucking rules for this nonsense."

"So now what?" I said tiredly. "I'm not...I don't think I can say no to this. Not to learning magic and...whatever else this is. But I can't just abandon my whole life without a word. Mom and my friends are still back home, wherever that is in relation to this. If I even do this I owe them a goodbye at least."

He shrugged. "You can return by speaking the password to the mirror again. The portkey is two way. As for timing, once you use the king piece your magic should register as awakening. It'll act like an outburst and you'll be sent a letter. Ilvermorny is actually the closest university, but you're a Black, you'll get a Hogwarts letter."

I sighed, weighing the mirror in one hand and the box in the other. So much to thin about, to learn. I had to talk to my mom for one thing, apparently she was a witch. That would be a weird conversation. After a few more questions about my life (I asked about the family, apparently I had an uncle in prison, though dad insisted it was bullshit) I finally decided I'd had enough and said my goodbyes.

Coming back was as easy as saying a word, because of the...portkey. For now I just wanted to go home and sleep. I was exhausted from work and this was surreal and kind of disturbing in some ways. Then I'd talk to my mother and decide if I wanted to use the 'evil pieces'. I knew myself well enough to know I probably would, but it at least deserved a bit of thought. With a final glance at my dad's portrait, I said the key word and felt that tug behind my navel again as the world began to spin. Time to go home.

I didn't bother waiting the night out, I headed straight for the house of the only person I knew who could answer the million questions swirling in my head. The trip to my mom's place was both unbearably long and over in a blink somehow, and when I arrived there by bus, I walked down the dark street peacefully, unworried about any of the street crime I'd have feared by my apartment.

The house I grew up in was in a nice little neighborhood, every lawn well trimmed, every house freshly painted. The walk there was relaxing, and when I pushed open the white picket fence my mom had insisted on and walked up the porch steps, I inhaled the scent of lavender and chamomile from my mother's garden, the mixture never failing to put me at ease.

Knocking lightly I checked the time. It was late, one in the morning or so, but I didn't care. I had too many questions, needed to know too many things. The small case of chess pieces weighed down my coat, feeling like it was dragging me so low I was afraid I'd sink into the earth.

It didn't take long for the porch light to flip on and mom to open the door. She was in a robe, looking bedraggled and half asleep, and she scowled lightly at me as she saw me. Not enough to make me feel unwelcome, just enough to let me know she'd have preferred me to exercise that welcome at a more reasonable time of day.

"Ryan?" She said sleepily. "Honey, it's the middle of the night. What are you doing here? This couldn't have waited until tomorrow?"

"Are you a witch?" I said bluntly, not really knowing how to softball this. How do you ask subtly if someone has been lying to you your entire life? Not that I blamed her really, since I didn't have magic before telling me would have been entire truckloads of suck. What would have been the point?

She blinked, her confused face smoothing over. "Ah. This conversation. Come inside then, can't exactly have this talk outside." She turned and strode into the house, leaving the door open for me to follow her in. I wiped my shoes on the mat then took them off and set them by the door, just as I had for my entire childhood. Mom didn't like shoes in the house.

Then I padded after her across the well cleaned hardwood floors, past the right side staircase that led up to my childhood bedroom through the alcove full of pictures of me as a kid, and into the kitchen where mom used to make me soup when I was sick. Every memory was different, was changed slightly knowing what I knew.

Gesturing me to sit, she started brewing tea. Lavender and Chamomile, just like the plants in the garden. She steeped it for a minute or two, saying nothing, then poured it into large mugs, adding sugar and milk just like I'd learned from her growing up. She passed me mine, and I sipped gratefully despite the burn.

"So." She said quietly, finally breaking the silence. "Someone told you. Mind if I ask who? It's a bit cruel, and I'm deciding whether or not to be…displeased."

The way she said that was the same way she always said things like that when I was a kid. Like people should be afraid of her displeasure, like if someone offended her she could and would make them pay. It occurred to me that a lot of bad things had happened to people who had messed with me in my life. Mysterious bad things. Maybe people SHOULD be afraid of her. Maybe I should.

As if reading my mind, her expression softened. "Oh, honey. Not at you. Never at you. It's just…I had reasons for keeping this side of our heritage from you. I was trying to be kind. You aren't exactly like other wizards and witches."

"I'm a squib." I volunteered placidly, and she winced, hard.

"Yes. Yes you are." She looked like she might cry. "And that's not fair. I know. I wish I could have taught you magic growing up. Could have shown you how to cast spells, and brew potions. I never tried to involve you in magic though. It felt too harsh. To make you stare at everything you couldn't have."

I reached into my pocket and withdrew the case, passing it to her and telling her what the portrait had said. She DID cry this time, tears running freely down her face as she covered her mouth with one hand and stared at the box.

"He…he did it. He promised me you know. That he'd find a way. Before we split up. I assumed it was just a comforting lie he told a silly girl. I didn't know he meant it. Didn't know he'd DO what no one had ever done before." A sob wracked her body. "Oh Reggie."

I swallowed hard. "You could…talk to him about. He left behind a portrait. It told me everything I needed to know. You could see him again."

She just shook her head sadly. "No. I can't. Not really. Just like you can't. Portraits aren't people, they're more like recordings. He won't remember the conversation you had. Or the one he'd have with me. Not after they ended. Sure he can fake it for a short time, but portraits don't learn or grow. They're snapshots of a person as they were."

"So…I can become a wizard." I said blankly. "What do I do with that? There was so much information just dropped on me. Should I leave? Go off on my own to London and attend this…university. What about dad's family? Will they hunt me down, welcome me back? Hate me?"

"None of the above." Said my mother shortly. "They're all dead." She paused. "Or in prison. Your uncle was locked up for betraying his best friends, and your father's cousin Bella for torturing people. Couldn't have happened to a nicer woman. I hated that bitch. We got into quite a few duels when we were in school. She never could get the best of me."

I blinked at that. "Duels? I assume this isn't the pistols at midnight kind of duel?"

"Merlin no." She laughed bitterly. "Magic and blood politics mostly. Your father's cousin hated me for being born to muggle parents. It's stupid because magic comes through family lines in any case, so for me it was just recessive. But people are often stupid. Lots of them hated me for who my parents were."

"Is that when you and dad fell in love?" I said. "In school?" She hardly ever talked about dad.

Smiling fondly, she shook her head. "Eventually. Reggie was a pretentious prick, and for the first year or two we were more hatefucking than anything else. But I grew attached and so did he. Insisted on keeping it a secret from his family because he swore his mother would kill us both. Then school ended and I got pregnant. Reggie was terrified, thought his family would hurt you."

I grimaced slightly at the mention of my parents early sex life. My mom didn't really have a filter with her loved ones. She wasn't one to wax poetic about her sex life or anything, but she didn't censor herself about any subject.

"What do you think I should do?" I asked solemnly. "I…I want to go. To learn magic. It sounds amazing. Not the blood stuff or the politics but…it's MAGIC, you know? Who WOULDN'T want to learn magic?"

She laughed with delight. "You sound like me when I was your age. I loved magic. Still do. It's mysterious and beautiful and special. Learning magic is the best goal you could ever have." She teared up again. "I never thought I could share this with you. You said all you need is…king piece?"

My eyes widened. "Of course! I can give you one too, so you can be a devil with me! We'd both live forever and-" She held up a hand to stop me. Her face serious and not at all interested in what I was offering.

"You will not." Her tone was flat and very final. "I'm not old, and witches live a long time. We can look into that later, but for now, it wouldn't be wise. As a squib who gained abilities you would be unprecedented. Any oddities or unusual changes could be laid at the feet of what you were. If I show up stronger and with new abilities, people will notice."

I blinked at her in shock. "You're…coming with me? But you have a life here. A home. You'd leave all that for me?"

She shrugged. "Of course. You're my boy. Besides, I do miss England. I haven't been back in quite some time. I'd like to visit my parents, maybe see some old friends." Her smile dimmed. "The one who are still alive in any case." She gestured at the case. "Well then, it sounds like you've decided to go as well, so let's get you prepared. We'll want to have this done before the Hogwarts letters go out."

"Just…just like that?" I said worriedly. "Don't I need to prepare, or meditate or something?" I glanced at the box nervously, only to see it open with a small booklet having been pulled free by my mother.

"Looks like no." She said with interest. "Huh, these are fascinating. I wonder where Reggie got them. The booklet explains all of the unique aspects of the pieces, and it's signed G. O'D. Which seems extremely arrogant." She shook off her thoughts, snapping the book closed. "Regardless, lie down on the floor, I'll set the piece on your chest and you'll absorb it. No point waiting, I have no clue how this works anyway."

Which made sense, honestly. There was no reason to drag my heels on some mysterious magic my mother had never heard of. She didn't have sources or potential research directions or anything. It would be just as big a crap shoot in a week as it was now, or in a year. Might as well grit and bear it.

I laid down, controlling my breathing as I waited. Despite my willingness to take the risk, I was a little nervous. But every time I considered backing out, I just remembered…magic. I was going to be able to do MAGIC. Magic was amazing. Magic could do anything. Magic was the thing I'd always wanted.

Not being a wizard, I hadn't know about that. But I'd ALWAYS wanted magic. Some part of me rejected this world, the way it felt, the mundanity. I craved power and excitement, and I'd have done anything to get them. I dabbled in the occult as a kid (fake occult I guess, because none of those demon summonings actually worked), tarot, herbalism. None of it was real. None of it worked.

This though. This was a chance to become something more than human. I'd never been a person who valued humanity for its own sake. If I could be better, I WANTED to be better. To be more than I was now. My mom set the glowing red king piece on my chest, and I stared down at it as it was subsumed into me.

It dropped through my chest, slowly sinking into me as ripple rolled through the very space that I occupied. Like a stone sinking into the black sea. Slower than normal (things sink slowly in the black sea because of the high salt content), but still pretty quick.

Then it reached…something, and I felt a change. Like a spark being struck against kindling, flame roared through my entire being, consuming me body and soul. Fire rolled down my veins out over my nerves, across my skin, into my eyes.

Every part of me was burning, was changing, and as it did, I felt myself become MORE. Felt myself grow until my body was JUST shy of exploding before the pain receded and I was left panting, covered in sweat. And with a brand new pair of wings. Cool.

July 28th, 2010, St. Louis, Missouri. 11:00 AM EDT

I woke feeling like I was floating on a cloud. My skin tingled, my muscles buzzed with energy, I felt like I could fight a grizzly. My eyes snapped open and I saw nothing but darkness. "Where am I?" I wondered aloud. "Is this some sort of…demonic realm?"

"What?" Asked my mom's voice from like five feet away. "No." There was a click and then light bathed the room. "We're in your room. I told you those blackout curtains made the place too dark." She rolled her eyes at me. "Honestly. 'Is this some sort of demonic realm?' what's wrong with you?" Her impression of my voice was low and dull and definitely not flattering.

I sat up, glaring at her in embarrassment. "Hey, it was a legit question." I reached down to flip open my cell phone. My eyes bugged out as I stared at the screen. "Fuck!" I snarled. At her concerned look I held up the phone. "Well, I don't have to worry about quitting my job. I was out for THREE DAYS?"

It wasn't until I said it that I noticed how haggard she looked. Dark circles around her eyes, pale, waxy skin. My mom was normally a pretty put together person, but right now she looked like she'd been run over by a bus, and they'd backed over her when they were done.

"Sure were." She said, forcing a smile. "I thought you grew out of sleeping in? I was monitoring you with spells and making sure to keep you hydrated." She gestured to one side at a drug store IV kit sitting next to the bed. It wasn't in my arm right now, but I saw a few empty bags of saline. "All my scans were coming back perfectly normal so I figured you were ok."

Her voice cracked a bit at the end there, but I didn't mention it, I just opened my arms and she threw herself at me in a bonecrushing hug. "I feel like an idiot." She whispered. "I just got so excited by being able to do the impossible I let you rush this decision. We should have checked them over or something. I know they're pretty out of context for me but I could have discovered SOMETHING."

I just shook my head, squeezing back before letting go, standing up to stretch. "Not your call." I said with a groan as I leaned back, arms both up and out to open up my chest. Of course…then I froze. Because I felt something else stretch. Something behind me. I'd never felt anything like it. Looking back over my shoulder I stared wide eyed at my new WINGS.

"Well." I said blankly. "Those are new. Interesting. Were those there a second ago?" My mom stared, shaking her head mutely. She looked like she was about to pass out. "Never mind. You look wiped. Get some sleep, I'll make something to eat and watch some TV or something." She opened her mouth but I cut her off. "Nope. No arguments. Bed for you, ma. We can talk in the morning."

She sighed, but nodded, making me promise to wait and talk before going anywhere. I agreed, and ended up napping myself after she went to bed. Apparently being unconscious is NOT the same as being asleep.

By the time I woke up, I could smell food cooking. Bacon and eggs. I checked the kitchen and sure enough mom was up and alert. "How are you always so cheery in the mornings?" I said with a chuckle as I came into the room. "Some kind of magic spell?"

She snickered. "No, though I do have a few emergency pepper-up potions around in case I need them. Didn't need to dip into my stock this time. Though I did take a dreamless sleep." She shuddered. "The sounds you made as you changed…I'm so glad I decided not to take you up on that offer. I could HEAR your bones changing shape."

I looked down at myself. I was a little broader and bit more muscular, but I didn't see where the bones would have moved. Maybe it was the wings? I couldn't tell if they had bones in them but it seemed likely. "So." I said as I sat down. "What are those things you just mentioned? You said something about potions?"

"That I did." She said with a smile. "I'm a potions mistress. Or I was training to be one before we left England. That was my major at Hogwarts. I was the third best in my year. Behind my friend Lily and that absolute twat Severus Snape."

"Potions?" I asked with interest. "That sounds kind of cool. What exactly ARE the majors? I know I'll be trying them all first year, but I'd like a head start on what kind of magic I can learn if I have to pick."

Heaping bacon and eggs onto a plate for me she sat down across the table. "There are several subjects. Your options for majors will be Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Defense against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and Herbology. There are also several minors you can choose from, like Arithmancy, Ancient runes, Care of Magical Creatures, but you can't even take the intro courses for those until year two."

I nodded along as I shoved a few strips of bacon in my mouth, I was starving from the transformation. "Well Transfiguration and Potions are self explanatory, and Defense against the Dark Arts doesn't take much guessing, not does Herbology. Only one that seems a bit nebulous is Charms."

"Charms can add properties to people or objects." She said with a smile. "Making things float, or sing, or dance, or at later levels enchanting them to do magical things like being bigger on the inside. It's a fun subject, though not one I had a knack for. Lily, the friend I mentioned before, was extremely gifted at Charms, she took the subject as a minor when she majored in potions."

Well, nice to know that was an option at least. Before I could speak again though, there was a light tapping on the window. I jumped out of my skin, but my mom just smiled and hopped to her feet, walking over to open the window as a fucking OWL flew through the opening to land on the table in front of me.

He glared at me viciously, and I raised an eyebrow, before handing him a tiny slice of bacon. Apparently that was the right call because aside from nearly snapping my finger off, he didn't do anything else. He was carrying an envelope, and mom grinned, picking it up and tearing through the thick cream paper to read the letter aloud.

Dear Mr. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to attend Hogwarts University for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of all books, supplies, and materials required for your first year at our prestigious university.

Term begins September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.

Sincerely,

Minerva Mcgonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Mom beamed. "Huh. I was half expecting them to mention how unexpected it was. Bit tight for the acceptance date. But it should be doable. We'll need to head to Diagon Alley so you can claim the family vault in any case, we can just dip in early to get your school supplies."

She practically squealed as she leapt across the table to squeeze the life out of me again. "I can't believe my baby boy is going to Hogwarts! I never thought I'd see this day. I wish I'd had time to give you lessons. I'll tutor you when you're home over the summer so you can pick your major with a good grounding in all the subjects."

As she chattered excitedly, I read over the list with fascination. Cauldrons, scales, books, all looked pretty interesting and understandably useful. I stopped at one entry. "Wait…a wand?" That seemed pretty weird. Wands were bullshit stage magician stuff. Did I need one to do magic?

"Yes." She said firmly, breaking out of her reverie. "A wand. Wands are foci that concentrate and shape magic. Some people learn to cast spells without them, but it's hellishly difficult and requires an intense familiarity and mastery with the magic in question. For spells you aren't an expert in, you just use an incantation and a wand to sculpt the power before you release it."

I considered the king piece, what it had done for me and given me. I could feel my magic, strong and vital, bubbling under my skin like superheated tar. It was thick and potent, but it didn't feel uncontrolled. I felt like I could do magic if I just knew how. Like my power WANTED to be free, but I just needed to give it form.

I held out my hand, staring at it hard, focusing on the space above it. I kind of wanted to cast a fireball, that would be awesome. I glared at the spot above my hand, letting my magic out, pouring it into the image in my head. Fireball. I needed a fireball. I wanted to make fire. All I had to do was-

There was a nearly inaudible pop and a tiny spark jumped in the air above my hand. I yelped and fell over backwards leaning away from it, spilling out of my chair onto my ass. My mom, however, was staring at me in shock.

"That…that was wandless magic." She said numbly. "How the hells did you do that? I don't think I can do that. In fact I KNOW I can't. Even that tiny spark. That wasn't a spell, you just…made your magic do something. I didn't even know that was possible."

I shrugged as I stood up, brushing myself off. "It was a lot harder than it felt like it should be. But I think it's my magic. Demonic power is more…intuitive. It obeys. I just don't know how to order it around yet. I bet learning actual spells will help. Like I think I can train it to react faster and easier."

Making that fireball had required nearly inhuman levels of focus and concentration, and it still hadn't been enough. I imagine the magic was like that on purpose, so you didn't just burn people alive with a stray thought. You needed intention and willpower to make it take shape. I wondered how it would work with a wand?

"Well." Said my mother quietly. "That's quite an interesting thing to find out. Perhaps when you access the family vault we might look around for any mention of this G. O'D. I get the feeling that what's been done to you may be a bit more…complex, than I expected."

I shrugged. "Oh sure. I was going to check it out anyway. I want to see what kind of magic is in the vault. Do I need to do anything to claim it?"

"A blood test." Her tone was nonchalant. "They'll cut you and spill a few drops onto a blood stone keyed to the Black Family bloodline. The closer you are to the head of house the brighter it'll burn. Since you're the only actual descendant of the direct male line who isn't dead or in prison for being a racist nutjob you should be the best claimant."

It was hard not to grin at the thought. Dad had been…well kind of an ass, but based on what he and mom had said and his bearing I was guessing we were rich as fuck. I was going to go absolutely apeshit with that money. I could just imagine all the awesome magical shit I could buy at this Diagon Alley place.

I wanted to go and get that inheritance immediately. I just didn't know how we'd get there. "So." I said eagerly. "When do we leave?"

She grinned at my enthusiasm, trying not to laugh at me behaving like a kid on christmas. "Well we can't leave yet." She said as she tucked the letter into a pocket. "First I have to apply for a transatlantic floo connection." She scrawled out a short message with a pen on a piece of paper from the kitchen drawer and sent the owl off through the window. "Once we get that…no reason to wait. I guess your first introduction to magic can start today."

July 28th, 2010, The Leaky Cauldron, London England, 7:00 PM BST

"I regret everything." I moaned as I slumped against the wall of the 'Leaky Cauldron' two hours later. Well, two hours St. Louis time. England was six hours ahead of us, so it was actually seven PM here. "Why didn't you warn me?"

We'd just come out of a fucking FIREPLACE, having traveled through 'floo powder', which was arguably the worst thing I had ever experienced, and that INCLUDED being turned into a devil. Floo travel was the bastard child of nausea, vertigo, and getting kicked in the nuts, and my head was simultaneously spinning, pounding, and throbbing in a way that made me seriously wish the transformation had killed me.

"Wouldn't have helped." Said my mother pitilessly. "In fact, bracing makes it worse. Trust me, this was the kindest way I could have done it. Would it help if I said it gets easier?" I glared at her, but nodded slightly. "Shame, because it definitely doesn't."

My glare intensified as a loud laugh rang out to one side. I looked over and blanched as I took in the single oldest human being I had ever seen, a wrinkled old bald man with no teeth and bright, clever eyes. He gave me a toothless grin when he saw my reaction. "Don't be so jumpy lad. You'll see far worse than me around these parts."

"Debatable." Said my mom with a cheeky grin. Her voice had shifted a bit, a slight english accent tinging her words that hadn't been there before. Not enough to be jarring, but being back across the pond was clearly influencing her manner of speech. "How are you Tom? We wanted a room." She fished into a pocket and pulled out an unusually large gold coin, flipping it to him.

He caught it deftly, hand snaking out shockingly fast for such an old man. He didn't keep the coin though, whipping it back at her overhand quick enough that she barely caught it. "You keep your gold, lass. No barmaid of mine pays for room, even one as hung up her apron a few years ago."

She gave him a warm smile. "Thanks, old man. This is a one off though. My boy is about to come into some money, so you can bet we're paying the next time."

"As you say." He smirked, waving her off. "Go sit down, dinner is still up, and I know you love the mutton the way old Sadie makes it." His voice brooked no argument, and my mom nodded, leading me over to the table.

We sat down and he brought out a few bowls of stew made with a meat that had an odd texture I didn't recognize. It was pretty good, surprisingly fatty, and I finished both the stew and the fresh bread it was served with pretty quick, washing them down with a bottle of a sweet butterscotch flavored drink called 'butterbeer'.

Once we finished that, mom excitedly dragged me out back into the alley and withdrew her wand. I'd never seen one before, and I admit I stared a bit. She grinned at me. "Twelve inches. Unicorn hair. Birch. Extra whippy. Good for charms." I had no clue what any of that meant, but she tapped a few stones in a quick pattern and then stepped back as the wall began to move.

Aside from the floo and my own spark, I hadn't seen much magic, so watching the wall come alive and shift itself aside to create an archway was thrilling. My mother made a flourish with her hand, showing me the darkened street lined with glowing gas lamps. "Welcome." She said officiously. "To Diagon Alley."

We stepped through the archway, and I felt my breath catch. Not because of some immense palatial building or grand cathedral. It was almost the opposite of that. Diagon Alley was just a street full of stores, but the mundanity of the layout provided all the more contrast to the magic taking place.

People floating trunks, creating flowers, making brightly colored glowing bubbles fill the air outside a shop where they were advertising. All of it just…normal. Like this was just a tuesday. Somehow the lack of spectacle in the proceedings made it all the more jarring. That a world existed where this was commonplace.

My mom grinned, grabbing my arm and pulling me along. "Yes, yes, it's very impressive, move along hon, you're blocking the archway. We can explore at length as we go, for now we need to head to Gringotts and get your bank account back from that whore Narcissa and her Death Eater husband."

Her voice was dark at that last comment, and I raised a brow at her. "Not a fan of the relatives?"

She snorted. "The only one of those bastards I could stand was Sirius, and even he wasn't very close to Reggie. Narcissa Malfoy is a prissy sycophantic bitch, and her husband is a slimy murderer. I suspect he was directly involved in the death of my ex-boyfriend, Benjy Fenwick. Benjy was a cocky, insufferable idiot, but he didn't deserve to die."

I could hear the pain in her tone, and I suspected it was about more than Benjy. In the short time I'd been aware of magic, mom had made a few references to the war, but she changed the subject as soon as she noticed. She'd lost a lot of friends from what I could tell, and the last thing I'd do would be to push it.

It was weird to think of her having friends. My mom was an energetic and outgoing person, and she was always friendly to everyone, but she never let anybody get close. It was just me and her for as long as I could remember. She'd never ever dated, despite being constantly hit on for my entire life (I NEVER brought guy friends over, because there was a one hundred percent chance they would try to sleep with her and I'd have to kick their ass).

She led me down the street, around a very subtle turn, and we arrived in front of a huge marble building replete with columns along the length of the front steps.

Marching us up inside, she dragged me to the counter, where a very small, ugly man with a wrinkled face and pointed ears sneered down at a paper he was scribbling on through small spectacles. His sneer got wider as he noticed us, exposing sharp teeth. "What do you want?" He barked in annoyance, seemingly at our very existence.

"We're here to reclaim rightful ownership of the Black Vault. We're requesting a blood test." My mom seemed both unsurprised and unbothered by the tone, staring the man down with a bored expression. He snarled something unintelligible and hopped down from an apparently massive stool to vanish behind the counter.

At my raised eyebrow my mom shrugged. "Goblins. Our relationship with them is…not symbiotic, exactly, but not exactly parasitic. They like treasure, we like financial security, so we tolerate each other for the sake of that arrangement. Gringotts is one of the oldest institutions in the world, despite multiple attempts to close it down during the rebellions."

I filed away that bit of info, weird as it was to know GOBLINS existed, and waited until the goblin in question came back. He emerged from a small, three foot tall door in the counter, which disappeared seamlessly into the wood as it closed, and gestured sharply for us to follow.

Mom trailed after him, so I did the same, and we came to a small stone room with no windows and a bare wooden table in the middle. On the table lay a case, illuminated by a pair of floating white lights on the ceiling at either end of the room. The goblin hopped up on a chair and popped open the case, opening it up to reveal a large, dark red ruby.

He held up a palm. "Hand." I looked at my mom, who nodded, and held out my hand. A dagger appeared in his grip as he snagged my wrist, and with a quick motion, he drew it smoothly across my palm.

"Son of a bitch!" I hissed, trying to jerk back. The goblin pitched forward, eyes widening in shock before he set his foot on the table and dragged me back. He was really fucking strong, and I think I'd shocked him with my pull. Maybe a devil thing. My blood dripped onto the stone, the red gem blazing to life so brightly it almost blinded me.

The goblin snorted, then opened a compartment next to the stone and withdrew an old weathered piece of parchment. Checking something on the paper, he nodded, then held out a feathered quill, turning the document to face me. "Sign to accept lordship of house black, and I'll arrange to have you apprised of your assets."

That had been…fast. But whatever, I leaned down and plucked the pen away, looking for ink. He gestured to my bloody hand, and I sighed, dipping the nib in the blood and scribbling my name. The gem and name both flashed, and the goblin nodded, rolling it up and putting it back in the case.

Without a word, he hopped down and walked out, slamming the door behind him. My mother sighed. "Well, that was less unpleasant than it could have been. Most of them hate humans. The diplomatic ones are sent for account management duties, so we'll be dealing with one of those next. Hopefully they'll be less…abrupt. Oh, here, give me your hand."

I held it out to her with a wince, and she mumbled a few words I couldn't hear. My palm knitted itself together like magic, and I blinked in awe as I flexed it. The goblin had slashed the middle of my palm and there were lots of muscles there. Any hand movement had been excruciating, but now I felt great.

The door opened and another goblin, equally ugly but somehow warmer seeming, hopped up on the chair across from us and thumped down a number of files. "Hello." He said in a gruff but pleasant enough voice. "I am Gorehew. I understand Bloodclaw has already certified your bloodline and arranged for the transfer of assets, you simply need to be apprised."

"Yeah." I said slowly. "Why was that so easy?" He looked up at me, an eyebrow rising. "I mean, no complaints here, but I would figure you guys would need to be more…thorough?"

He grinned, showing me sharp teeth. "The bloodstones are account safeguards added by the families in question. We personally only apply the protections demanded by the account holder. The bloodstone was enough for your ancestors, they were always a bit…particular about blood. Yours is strong, so you passed."

"Not your problem." I said in understanding. "So why are you being so helpful now?"

Gorehew's grin stretched, taking on a bloodthirsty tinge. "The previous claimant was active in lieu of a proper inheritor. Since there WAS a proper inheritor, that means they were using the vault under false pretenses. Which means there must be an audit. Which means money will most likely be seized. Money WE, as account handlers, will get a share of."

It was my turn to grin, which seemed to throw him off. "Sorry. I just appreciate people who are straightforward about their motives. I can understand greed, and I don't have a problem with it. In this case it's good for me. So, why don't you tell me about all the illegal uses of my account since my uncle went to prison and we can figure out how to demand as much…compensation, as possible."

I'd never been rich before, and maybe it was the devil in me, but I found myself hungry for it. I wanted money, lots of it, to spend as I saw fit, and if I got to stick it to some people my mom hated in the meantime, all the batter. Gorehew looked delighted as he turned the papers so I could see them. It was a large stack. I was probably going to be here a while…I didn't mind. This was going to be fun.

As per usual pat-reon has another 10k words of this story at that site /malcolmtent for anyone interested, and Questionable Questing has chapters posting MWF(2k chapters) for anyone who wants to read ahead free. QQ also has a cast list with pictures for anyone interested, since people had been asking on there for previous stories to include that.