Chapter 2: The Black Legacy
Hello, welcome to a new chapter of Harry Potter and the lady of the world
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Arcturus Black gathered a small collection of wands within a well furnished ornate box. Inside the box rested the wands of his dear sister Dorea, his departed wife Melania, his father's wand and that of Charlus Potter. He also packed a small number of books on magic. Of course, marked children safe, and he had no doubt the old boy Dumbledore would likely give them a look over himself. But Arcturus didn't care. He was in the closing days or weeks of his life, and for as many triumphs his life had been marked by, he had also screwed a number of things up.
When he left his home in Britain, he wanted to retire and get away from the brewing trouble that had been Voldemort. So many of his friends and brother in arms were dying at the time, he was the last of a generation. The Old Guard.
Men and Women of Britain who had fought side by side when Grindelwald came knocking on their doorstep. They marched, they fought, they bled and they died hoping that the morning sun would bring about a better tomorrow after the darkness passed. And within fifteen years of Grindelwald being deposed. A new dark lord had been brewing at home, picking them off one by one.
And of course their children had to go on and follow this supposed Lord who was so cowardly he feared death itself. Now his brother and sisters in arms were dead, most of them slain by the dark lord. Others taken by common diseases that could have been cured if not for the civil war making medicine more difficult to come by.
Charlus and Dorea should not have fallen to a disease as common as the dragon pox, especially not with his sister being the gifted healer she was. Hell, Charlus and himself had survived much worse while fighting in the war.
As he closed his travel bag. Arcturus looked at the portrait he had retrieved from Potter Manor when he had visited to collect the wands of his deceased family member.
"Something bothering, Archy?" Dorea's picture asked him.
"Your goddamn grandson," Arcturus replied, "Boy is gifted, much more than your son was. Only nine years old, but already capable of using magic without a wand. But life didn't deal him a good hand, and he could turn his power into hurting people, he already seems to be developing a vindictive streak and a cold hearted ruthlessness,"
"Seems like someone screwed the pooch there," the portrait of Charlus said, stroking his chin, "We Potters are head strong, with a good sense of justice… but for a young mind justice and revenge can be confused,"
Then Charlus duplicate asked, "But you are afraid, you fear something about my grandson,"
"He's young, he has power at his fingertips," Arcturus said carefully, measuring his words, "And he has no respect for authority, he was abused by his muggles relatives, and if he speaks somewhat refined, but he does sound like some villainous buffoon at times. He could be charming, did the old boy Dumbledore mess up and create someone with the potential to become a dark lord?"
"Of course not Archy, I swear you men could be so pig headed at times," Dorea denied his question looking affronted he had even asked, "He was abused, and he sounds like he's only trying to cope with his situation, it's only a trauma response likely stemming from him copying whatever figure he sees as strong to protect himself. He needs guidance, someone who is willing to understand him. And perhaps a strong feminine hand to set him straight if he does start going down the wrong path,"
"Heh, You were always smarter than us dear," Charlus said as the portrait moved to lay a kiss on the oil painted woman.
"A strong feminine hand, ey," Arcturus said chuckling, "It just so Happens that Hogwarts is currently giving refuge to a Princess, a girl that is just a year older than your grandson. Her Kingdom fell, her family is gone, and she too is in need of guidance. But she's strong, actually, I intend to start teaching her magic. If one of the wands I've collected from you two and my melania matches with her… I have a feeling Princess Cirilla and young Harry could be a good match,"
"What are you thinking, Archy?" Dorea asked, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a questioning look.
"Your grandson might need a strong feminine hand, and Princess Cirilla will need a home and a family to call her own," Arcturus answered as he prepared to leave, "So, with Sirius in Azkaban, I intend to make Harry my heir. But It will be on the condition that he marries the princess. The House of Black might as well be extinct at this point. And I am not going to let this once proud house fade into nothing just because my son and the mad cow Walburga decided to drive it into the ground by following some uppity Dark Lord,"
"Are you sure, old friend?" Charlus asked, "My kin typically do not do well with arranged marriages or bethrotals,"
"I am" Arcturus replied, adding, "I am old, and I will be dying soon. This way, in my last days. I can at least redeem myself and this house and leave it on the hands of those who will cleanse it of its recent past and rebuild it anew,"
"Why do you want to teach young ciri magic at this age?" Dumbledore asked as they walked towards the Gryffindor tower, "She is only ten years old afterall,"
"Because it is better that she does something rather than sit here doing nothing, stewing in her thoughts," Arcturus stated as they approached the portrait, "Besides, I intend to teach her nothing more than what she would learn in her first year here,"
"I trust you," Albus said as they walked inside the common room area where Ciri was busy reading a copy of Beedle the bard.
The grey haired girl looked up from her reading material, and greeted them, "Professor Dumbledore, Lord Black, how are you both doing?"
"We are fine dear," Arcturus said as he took a seat in the red and gold common room. Looking around the cozy and homey space, "After All these years, I finally sit in the Gryffindor common room. See old boy, I told you I'd infiltrate this place sooner or later. Ha! Just wait until charlus hears about this,"
"Yes, it was late… very late, archy," Dumbledore replied in good humor.
"Only my sister calls me archy," Arcturus replied grumpily and then turned to the princess and asked, "Tell me, Princess Cirilla. How would you like to learn magic?"
"I thought you had to be eleven to attend Hogwarts," Ciri asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, normally yes," Dumbledore affirmed, but also explained himself, "However those who come from a magical household, or those with a wizard or witch willing to teach them can learn magic at an earlier age. But do not worry, we know you have magic and you will attend Hogwarts next year once you turn eleven, arcturus here simply volunteered to give you a head start,"
Arcturus reached into his travel bag and retrieved the box that he had prepped before he left the house.
"Hopefully, one of these will do," he said as he presented to Ciri her limited options in regards to wands, "The wand chooses the witch. But these wands have had their chosen wizards pass away. They were outstanding people, and I know they would have wanted their companion passed on to someone who could be equally capable,"
"Is it really alright for me to use one of these wands?" Ciri asked, not exactly certain it was appropriate to use someone else's wand.
"You can use whichever feels best for you," Arcturus said encouragingly.
Ciri picked up one wand, and Arcturus noted it was the one his little sister once wielded to heal people with.
"Go ahead, give it a small flick," Dumbledore encouraged the princess to see how it felt in her hand.
And much to the surprise of both old men, a golden light shot out from the wand signifying a perfect match, as Arcturus said, "Well, I'll be. I didn't think that wand would choose you entirely,"
"Why? Did this wand belong to someone special?" Ciri asked.
"It belonged to my sister, Dorea Potter né Black," Arcturus informed the girl stroking his chin, "She was a gentle woman, who preferred healing to conflict. She died a decade ago, alongside her husband. A good man who i and the old boy here had the chance to fight alongside with, Charlus Potter,"
"You mentioned him," Ciri recalled, "You said he saved your life back in France? During a war,"
"Yes, indeed," Arcturus confirmed, "they both lived a long happy life, they had one son. My nephew James,"
"And he's fine with me using her wand?" Ciri asked to verify one last time.
"Even if he wasn't dear, dead men tell no tales," Arcturus said, "But don't be sad, he went down like one would expect a son of Potter and Black to go down. Fighting to defend his wife and child. Enough of that now, The spell I want to teach you first is the quintessential first year spell and one more useful than you'd think. Lumos, it produces a light at the tip of your wand. Simply flick your wand forward lightly as you say Lumos. Be confident, picture the light at the tip of your wand, and trust that the spell will work, and it will,"
Ciri swallowed, closing her eyes to picture the light as Lord Black had instructed her too, and in a clear and concise voice spoke while flicking her wand forward "Lumos,"
A light blinked into existence. Ciri opened her eyes, and smiled at the success with the spell on her first try, as she looked at the two, who quickly congratulated her.
From there, the two old men proceeded to walk her through her first transfiguration lesson. Giving her tips, as dumbledore conjured a match stick, and instructed her on a spell that would transfigure it into a sewing needle. By the end of the lesson, Ciri was having fun finding her childish enjoyment in something as simple as using magic to conjure a light or turning a stick into a needle.
By the end of the lesson, she went to return the wand, but Arcturus said, "Keep it, it is now your wand. It chose you,"
"Thank you," Ciri replied, "I will strive to use it for good like your sister did,"
"I am glad," Arcturus said as he left the room.
After her lessons with Arcturus began, and Ciri started to learn magic, she quickly found herself also taking lessons from the many professors at Hogwarts. Professor MacGonagall had swiftly ousted Albus as her transfigurations teacher. Though the Headmaster still came by from time to time to give her tips and ideas.
Professor Flitwick quite enthusiastically introduced her formally to charms. Which Ciri quite enjoyed learning about, considering the wide spectrum that charms covered, while professor sprout taught her about magical plants and their applications in potions.
She even learned to ride a broom, which was the most fun she had in her recent life.
Indeed, as Ciri reflected on the turn of her fortune, she realized how much good learning magic was doing for her. Slowly but surely she was beginning to put a new life together.
Even so, she couldn't help but lower her guard, not even at night. Every little sound woke her up, her sleep was light and oftentimes found herself taking a nap throughout the day because Ciri's nights were not restful.
And oftentimes, she still found herself thinking off and wishing for her proper home, a place that was never going to be hers again. And just like Arcturus had told her on their first meeting.
Some days she found herself doing better, some days she found herself doing worse. Some days she felt invisible, especially after performing a particularly difficult spell. Only to be knocked down by her own insecurities the next.
However, the old man's willingness to help her out was something that gnawed at the back of her mind. Why go out of his way to help a nobody like her? Sure, she had been a princess once, but that was all in the past now and thanks to the nilfgaardian she was just a destitute war orphan and homeless.
He had even given her a wand that once belonged to a member of his family.
So the next time she saw him, Ciri asked him, "Why do you go out of your way to help me so much? You've given me advice on how to move on past the death of my family, you are teaching me magic, but I don't have anything to pay you back with,"
"And I wouldn't expect you to," Arcturus replied sternly, going on to explain, "I don't help you because I expect to be paid back, I am helping you out because it is the right thing to do. Something this entire damn country seemed to forget, but I do admit, that there is a bit of a more selfish reason behind my desire to help you out,"
"What is it?" Ciri pressed, wanting to know more about why he felt so much empathy for her.
Arcturus sighed, "When I left magical Britain in nineteen sixty two. I didn't just leave my home behind, I left my house in the hands of an incompetent fool who ran my house. The Ancient and Honorable House of Black to the ground. Two of my grandchildren joined Dark Lord Voldemort over some nonsense extremist ideals such as blood purity. Another one married one of his dark munchers. My heir select ran away from home and now sits in prison for betraying his benefactors, another one married one of the dark lord's dark munchers, and another ran away to marry someone she loved. My house has been diminished, it's one honorable name tarnished,"
Arcturus lowered his head, "Now only four who carry my blood remain. My granddaughter was expelled from the family and her name burned from the family tapestry, my grandson sits in prison his name forever branded as a traitor, my younger granddaughter married to one of Voldemort's kiss asses, and the last one… my great grandnephew just a boy your age, but frankly, he has the power and motive to become something truly terrifying, Grindelwald was bad, Voldemort brought Britain to its knees, but mother magic only knows what such a boy could do."
"Is it really that bad amongst your family?" Ciri asked him with a frown.
"I'm trying to teach the boy better, to have some compassion, but between you and I? I'd like to do one thing right before death gets its due," Arcturus said simply, and then let out a weak, whizzing chuckle.
"I appreciate all that you have done for me," Cirilla replied, giving him a small laugh, "But don't think you can go on to die yet. I'd be left alone again,"
"Don't worry about that child. I got it covered," Arcturus assured her.
Ciri nodded, and the lesson of the day began, as she learned the basics of dueling such as stances, spell chaining principles and dodging… There was a lot of dodging involved.
By the time the lesson ended, Ciri was free to go on about her day. She still couldn't figure out how such an old man could move so fast and so nimbly.
Harry Potter watched as his granduncle hung up a portrait of his grandparents in the living space of his castle. The black haired boy with green eyes looked at the piece, and he wasn't entirely appreciative of it.
On the one hand, it felt like a backhanded insult to just be handed a portrait of grandparents he never got to meet and expected to have warm feelings in his tum tums about it. At least they weren't his muggle grandparents. He might actually kill someone over that.
"There," Arcturus said as he tapped the portrait and the people depicted in it suddenly came alive.
"Archy? Is that little Harry? Oh my look at how big he has gotten! He looks just like James," the woman in the portrait spoke, sounding excited.
Said boy turned to his granduncle, and asked, "You got some magical portrait of my very much dead grandparents that can apparently talk and interact with the living, containing some form of consciousness within them. Are you trying to spy on me?"
"Shut up and introduce yourself boy," Arcturus replied exasperated, "And no, nobody is trying to spy on you, you little dipshit. I'm just concerned that you spend so much time here by yourself. Whether you like it or not, you need some form of human contact. Albus and his teachers won't stop by all the time, and I won't be around forever. Best that you at least have a magical portrait that encompasses the memories and a portion of the consciousness of your grandparents, people who care for you and will advise you when you need it the most,"
Harry looked at Arcturus impassively. But the old man just stared him down, so the boy just resigned the staring contest and took a stop forward to introduce himself, lowering his head, "I'm Harry Potter, your grandson. For whatever much that's worth,"
"Raise your head up," The portrait of Charlus ordered, "Potters bow their heads to no one,"
"Shush dear," Dorea said, quieting her husband as she took a closer look, "I've heard from Arcturus that your maternal side of the family was abusive. I understand your distrust of authority and people, but dear you don't have to worry about that with us. We might just be portrait, but we will still be here for you as much as we can little one,"
"Thanks," Harry replied, crossing his arms, then turned to Arcturus, "What else do you have planned?"
"We'll continue your etiquette lessons and how to be a reasonable human being," The old man replied giving the boy another hard look, "And if you are good I'll teach you some more about how a boy of magical nobility should act,"
"Yes, more lessons on posturing," Harry replied, though his tone of voice was flat and monotone which when paired with his unimpressed look gave Arcturus a clue as to what exactly the boy was thinking.
But the old man refused to budge. The boy would learn how to be a reasonable human being that benefited society instead of acting like a cheesy muggle fantasy villain. Come hell or high water.
It was Saturday morning of July 3rd of 1990 when Harry Potter was having breakfast, when Arcturus showed up once again. The old man stood by the entrance to the kitchen/pantry area where the boy sat eating. And once Harry was done, he asked, "What are you doing here?"
"Get ready, we are going to visit your parents grave," Arcturus said, "It's high time you visited and paid respect to your parents,"
Harry did as he was told, got ready and got to experience the joy of side along apparition. Once they appeared in a faint little village Harry fell to his knees and promptly puked his breakfast out.
Once he was done, he wiped the remaining grime from his lips with a handkerchief Arcturus handed him and looked up to his granduncle and asked, "What the hell was that?"
"Hehehe, I forgot you Potters don't have the stomach or footing for most magical transportation," the old man replied as he chuckled, "Not Charlus, not William, certainly not you,"
"No, I can teleport just fine, I mastered teleportation, that was not it. It was like I was being squeezed through a whole a tenth my size," Harry said in complaint, inadvertently impressing his relative.
"You can apparate already?" Arcturus asked with a raised eyebrow, "Impressive, I'm surprised you haven't splinched yourself,"
"Why would I do that? It's simple. I just close my eyes, imagine where I need to be and poof, I'm there," Harry questioned the old man.
Arcturus raised his brow even higher, and stated in a demanding tone, "Show me,"
The boy stood up and shrugged, and in a flash of green light he was gone. Not a single sound, or the twisting motion that was visible when people apparated away.
Then the boy appeared again in the same green light, causing Arcturus to say, "That's not apparition, that's something else…"
Of course, as Arcturus thought about it, he connected it to how Albus had said the princess had appeared in hogwarts. An explosion of green light. Could the two be related somehow? Impossible, Cirilla was from a different world entirely.
But if she could cross the boundaries to a different world?
Then he shook his head and said, "Tell no one boy. A different means of teleportation gives you an unfair advantage no one else has, keep it that way,"
Then they walked to the graveyard, and Arcturus walked to the section marked off for the Potters. Where previous generations had been interred before his nephew and niece-in-law, and where they too now unfortunately found their final rest.
"Here we are," Arcturus said as they came to a stop in front of the tombstone where Lily and James Potter were buried.
"Remember something boy," the old man stated, as he motioned at the tombstone, "You're parents loved you. More than you might ever know, they loved you enough to stand before a more formidable foe for your sake. Your mother, a muggleborn witch that followed Voldemort for the mere fact her parents didn't have magic, somehow invoked a magic so powerful it withstood the killing curse and bounced it from you into the dark tosser."
For once, Harry didn't have any witty or snarky comments. As he stood there looking unusually quiet and pensive as he stared at the grave of his parents.
Once again, Arcturus spoke, "If there's one lesson you should take from me, from your parents. Potters and Blacks do not bow to anyone, we don't follow others. We stand up for what is right, and what we believe in, and we stand up for those we love, and whether we live or die we fight. Fight like hell onto victory or death,"
"I know life has dealt you a bad hand, Harry," the old man said, finally calling the boy by his name, "And retreating into yourself is how you protect yourself. But it's time, acknowledge who you are. Harry, son of the Ancient and Honorable House of Potter. They didn't get these titles by being passive, but by holding down fort and protecting their own, for well over a millenia they faced and protected themselves and others from any threat to them and Britain, and as it's heir this duty falls onto you,"
Harry nodded, once again not speaking out loud and just looking at the grave of his parents.
"And as my Heir, I want you to know I expect to be buried here too. In my service uniform from the war," Arcturus commented slily, "You are also the last member of House Black that's free and sane of mind enough to keep my house afloat, don't squander it like my sons did,"
"That was just because you were a bad parent," Harry finally spoke with his usual brand of snarkiness and bite, "But I'll keep that in mind,"
"Good, one more place to go," Arcturus said as he took the boy to the destroyed house down the street, as he told him, "This is where your parents made their last stand,"
Outside of the House there was a statue erected to mark the defeat of Voldemort. Though neither of the two commented on it, only sharing a look of disgust as they made their way inside, and up to the room where the nursery once was.
Harry could sense and feel the powerful magic that still resonates in the room. As he made his way towards a certain spot, where he could see a faint glow of magic.
The green eyed boy kneeled down on the spot, and hovered his hand over the spot and produced a small magic circle in an attempt to absorb the magic left in it. However as the tendrils of magic jumped to him, he was pulled into a vision.
"Move aside you silly girl," a nasally voice demanded.
"Please not Harry, take me not him," Lily Potter begged and pleaded as she moved to stand protectively over her son.
The Dark Lord looked at the woman before him with disdain and pointed his wand at her. And in the motion of a lightning bolt he chanted, "Avada Kedavra,"
Lily Potter fell to the ground dead. And the Dark Lord turned his wand onto the baby on the crib, "Avada Kedavra!"
The green lightning strike rebounded from the baby, leaving him with a cut in the shape of lightning. Striking the caster true, and the room exploded, the robes of the Dark Lord fell to the ground as a wraith fled from death and away from the cottage at Godric Hollow.
Arcturus watched the boy who was in a trance and heard him take a deep gasp of air, and asked, "Are you alright?"
Harry looked at him from over his shoulder, tears streaming down his face though the look in his eyes was hard, and pained, "This is it… this is the exact spot where my mother died. Yet he lives,"
"I know," Arcturus said, his own expression turning hard, "I know,"
Though internally, the old man was proud. Even if it wasn't the best way to go about it, whatever Harry had seen. And from the context clues likely had seen his mother perish through whatever he had done, but the vision seemed to ignite a fire in the boy that had been absent before.
July 10th, 1990
Hogwarts
Ciri walked down from the dormitory onto the common room of the Gryffindor tower and noticed McGonagall was there waiting for her, looking at her with a somber expression, as the elder Scottish witch said, "Ciri, come. I have news for you,"
As Ciri approached the couch the two sat down, as the elder witch said, "I'm sure you noticed Lord Black hasn't been around in a couple of days now. Unfortunately we were just notified that he passed away a couple of days ago."
"Oh," Ciri said as her face fell and felt a sadness seep into her, and then she asked, "When is the funeral?"
"Later Today in the afternoon," Professor McGonagall answered, "Professor Dumbledore and I will accompany you once the ceremony opens,"
Ciri spent the morning feeling melancholic, though eventually she did get ready for the funeral.
It was open air, in a quaint little village called Godric's Hollow. When she arrived with Professors McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore she noticed there were already two groups of people there having what looked like a bit of a standoff.
Then another voice spoke up, "Enough!"
Ciri saw a kid that could be no other than her standing off to the side, looking at the group with a man with platinum blonde hair giving them a hard look, as the boy spoke, "I invited Madam Andromeda and her family because Granduncle saw her as family. She was his granddaughter no matter what those disgraces Walburga or Orion said. Arcturus was the Lord of the House and as his heir his wishes are my responsibility. Lest you forget Malfoy, I made the funeral arrangements, I as the heir took responsibility for the invitations which is why you stand here, at my grace. Because your wife Madam Narcissa is also equally his granddaughter and sister of Madam Andromeda,"
"Of course, Heir Potter. Apologies for overstepping the boundaries," the man with platinum hair said as he gave a slight bow.
"Let it be the last time we ever have to have words," the boy said looking at the man pointedly, as he turned to the incoming group.
"Professor Dumbledore, I see you bring company," The boy said as he looked at Professor McGonagall and Ciri.
"Of course my boy, Professor McGonagall here went to Hogwarts with the old boy, and Miss Cirilla here could be considered Arcturus apprentice," Dumbledore said as he introduced the two, "Professor McGonagall also was the teacher and Head of House for your parents,"
"Mister Potter, my pleasure to finally meet you," Professor McGonagall said as she extended her hand.
"Charmed," the boy replied.
Now up close to him, Ciri was able to note the boy had green eyes not too dissimilar to her own. But whereas she had mousey grey hair, he had jet black hair and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.
"Cirilla, meet Harry. He is Arcturus Grandnephew and his heir, Harry, meet Cirilla, as I had said she was Arcturus student," Dumbledore proceeded to introduce the two.
"Grandnephew?" Ciri said looking at Harry, and asked innocently, "Are you related to Dorea Potter by any chance?"
Harry raised an eyebrow and asked, "My Grandmother, why?"
"Um, Lord Arcturus allowed me to use your grandmother's wand," Ciri said as she held it out for him.
However, Harry merely looked at it, his arms crossed, and said, "Keep it, it has a strong connection to you. Frankly, It'd be pretty useless to me anyways and would just sit in some drawer collecting dust as I have no need for a wand,"
"Quite a bold claim Mister Potter," McGoganagall chimed in, "I look forward to seeing if you are as talented as your parents,"
"I assure you Minerva, Harry here has far surpassed his parents. Why the first time we met he showed amazing telekinetic control over six spears," Albus stated with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Wands are merely a focus in which mages are able to amplify and supplement their internal magic with magic from the environment," Harry commented as if it was the most obvious thing, "I have already developed a method through the use of circles, runes and symbols made from my own magic particles,"
Then he turned to Dumbledore, "I trust that you are good to start the ceremony?"
"Of course, I will do so at once," The Headmaster said as he walked forward and around the casket, and stood next to a picture of Arcturus in his younger years, wearing what looked like a military style uniform and a wreath of flowers.
"We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of a most exceptional man, a man i had the pleasure of calling a friend, a father, a warrior, and a man of honor, dignity and respect," The Headmaster spoke his eulogy towards his old friend, adding, "I remember when Arcturus studied at Hogwarts, and I was a mere transfiguration professor. He was an exceptional student then, and a great leader, as Arcturus Black and Charlus Potter brought Peace between the rivaling houses of Slytherin and Gryffindor for their short time there and then Again as men, fighting against the darkness of Grindelwald and his followers. Fighting with distinction in France, Norway and during the battle in Diagon alley. And leading troops with distinction during the allied liberation of france on the eight of june of nineteen forty four, and again during the Siege of Castle Numengarde where Grindelwald and his forces were finally routed and defeated,"
Dumbledore paused, receiving a polite applause from everyone, and then he said, "And in his late years, during the final days of his life, his return to Britain. Where he returned to the land of his birth to right the wrongs committed by his descendants. Where he chose to guide two lost souls who were desperate for guidance, Harry Potter, and Cirilla Riannon. Would anyone like to say some words about the disease,"
It was silent for a moment, however Ciri heard Harry turn to her and ask, "Would you like to go first?"
She nodded and walked next to Dumbledore and faced the small crowd. Most were looking at her with a mix of curiosity and estrangement as she gulped and spoke, "Lord Black was my teacher. When I first arrived at Hogwarts I was lost. My family was murdered, and I had been running away from my attackers. He was the one who noticed the grief I had been hiding away, and comforted me, gave me advice on how to process grief properly and move on. He gave me a wand and taught me how to use magic and started me on the journey to recovery. I didn't know him long, but in the time I did know him, he changed my life for the better and for that I am forever grateful,"
Then she gave a small bow, and then walked back to Professor McGonagall. Her cheeks burning red with embarrassment at speaking in front of so many stranger about someone she barely knew.
And then, Harry Potter was finally up to speak. He didn't move from his spot. Merely placing a fist on his hip and speaking up, "Arcturus Black was a frumpy bastard who didn't know when to not stick his nose where it wasn't wanted."
There were several gasp heard by Ciri, the son of the platinum haired man and the blonde haired woman asking, "Can he say that?"
And a chuckle from another older girl with the second group she had seen when they arrived.
Then, Harry continued, "But he was my Grand Uncle, and the only family I knew outside of my parents that gave a damn about me. He always gave me lessons on what I should and shouldn't be as the Heir to the House of Black and the House of Potter. But the last time we spoke he gave me one final lesson, Toujours Pours. Always Pure. Though some idiots may think that an idiom for the ideal of blood purity as some of his descendants did, doing so as fanatically as it was idiocy."
The boy looked up, adding, "He told me, In truth, Tujours Pour had nothing to do with whether how many generations of fucking your brother or sister to keep your blood pure you did. But about the purity of your magic, your intentions, purity of integrity, of honor, and of duty. The House of Black is known from many magics, from the darkest magic, to the most wholesome of healing spells. And yet, whatever a Black did, he did so with purity and earnesty, granting them excellence above the rest, and that's why the House of Black was better than almost every other house… except the House of Potter of course, but these two shared a common value, we bow before no one. We bow to no one, and we serve none, but our duty to the land, to magic, and to our fellow witches and wizards,"
The boy sighed, "Arcturus exemplified these Values. Whether it was his service to the nation, during the war. Or whether it was his loyalty to his friend and brother in law. Arcturus requested to be buried here in the cemetery typically reserved to the Potters to be beside his brother, his sister, and his wife who was also buried here with the blessing of my Grandfather, Charlus. Asking to be buried not in fancy robes, or the clothes he wore to the Wizengamot as a Lord. But in the uniform he wore as a common soldier. His honor remains unquestioned, his loyalty absolute, his integrity intact, and his duties fulfilled. Godspeed you, you bloody bastard, wherever you are,"
There was another round of polite clapping. As the Pallbearers lifted the casket from its stand, and laid it on some ropes and began to lower it by hand onto the grave.
The groups began to disperse and leave. But Ciri remained there, watching as the person who showed her empathy and kindness and helped her the most was buried there.
Though most of the crowd had dispersed, she wasn't the only one standing before his grave. As the boy, Harry Potter stood beside there, watching the burial quietly.
Soon tears began to fall from Ciri's eyes as she tried to remain as quiet as possible. But soon a hand took hers and squeezed it gently.
Ciri looked to see that Harry had taken her hand in an attempt to comfort her. And as the dam broke, she hugged him, and he hugged her in return and did his awkward best to comfort her.
In the distance, McGonagall and Dumbledore watched them. As McGonagall asked, "What are we gonna do about Ciri? The term is set to start soon, we assumed that Arcturus would eventually take her in but he's gone now,"
Dumbledore smiled, "Well dear, don't you think the solution is quite clear?" As he motioned towards the two children hugging each other.
"Are you sure that's a good idea? Need I remind you what happened the last time?" Minerva questioned Dumbledore, then looked back at Ciri and Harry. Commenting, "They could make a cute couple, but they are only children Albus,"