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Blood and Honour by Lily Windsor

Format: Novel
Chapters: 3
Word Count: 12,654
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: General
Characters: Lupin, Sirius, James, Pettigrew
Pairings:

First Published: 10/13/2007
Last Chapter: 10/03/2010
Last Updated: 10/03/2010

Summary:



Beautiful banner created by Guiding Ray of Sunlight of the MNFF Beta Boards.

This story is currently not being updated. I do hope to continue with it in the future but until then it is going to remain dormant. Thank you.

"Our fight for Truth will continue until the last pure-blood wizard remains on this land. We are not prepared to sit back and watch our children fall prey to the disease of this country. We will continue to fight.”


Chapter 1: The Chateau de Purete
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]




It was close to midnight, but the East London streets were alight, glimmering with the glare of the street lamps. It was quiet save for the few drunken louts making their way home from a night out at the local pub.

Mr. Charles Ross was one such man: a twenty-five year old university graduate with far too much time on his hands than would be expected. He took the same road as he always did, attempting to steady himself by way of the brick wall. Each night was the same for him. Pints of beer; pretty women and reliving the 1966 football world cup for the millionth time with his mates. He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his evenings.

He walked slowly and deliberately up the backhanded alleyways, happily humming away to ‘All You Need is Love’ by the Beatles.

He stopped short as he caught sight of a smoky mist hovering in the air at the end of the alley. It took him a moment to collect his thoughts, his mind too groggy with alcohol to be very clear headed.

“Smoke,” he muttered with no amount of alarm in his voice. He continued stumbling along, not too bothered. He felt as though a part of him was trying to tell him something, a nagging feeling tugged at his senses and he felt oddly inclined to stop walking.

But he didn’t.

Blinking, he continued forward, now dreaming of a warm cosy bed to fall into and a hot water bottle to cuddle. It might be August but hot water bottles were great at more than just keeping one warm. They were a source of comfort, a source of love. They could touch one like a woman never could, they could reach in and grab ones soul, holding it tight, delicately melting ones insecurities and ridding one of... well... of hangovers.

“Mmmm... water bottle...”

Charles stumbled quite violently and fell to the ground with a thump.

“Ooof, now how did that happen?” he wondered, rather amused. With a big smile on his face he put his hands out and made to push himself up.

The ground was soft, no not soft exactly but lumpy...

With slow deliberation Charles looked to the ground where he lay.

Two cold eyes looked straight back at him.

With a shock and a yell, Charles scrambled backwards, the alcohol leaving his veins with swift precision. His mind clearer he took in the full picture.

A man lay there completely still. His skin was white, his eyes wide yet glassy. He looked absolutely petrified.

Death had surely claimed him.

Charles began to yell. He yelled even more as he looked up to the sky and saw that the smoke he had seen earlier had grown clearer, more prominent. But yet it was not smoke at all. It was terrifying: a snake protruding from the image of a skull.

He continued to yell. 





"Jettez ce sort! Encore. Encore."

Obeying the commands, eleven-year-old Sirius Black sliced his wand through the air meticulously. “Stupefy! Stupefy! Bombarda!” he cried, his feet automatically moving with accurate precision across the dusty courtyard.

The continuous curses hit their target every time, but although the live gargoyle shook slightly; it continued moving towards him, ignoring the damage of its crumbling arms.

"Sirius! Achevez-le!"

Narrowing his eyes and making a split second decision, Sirius spun in a semi-circle on the spot and aimed. “Confingo!” 
The figure before him burst into flame and the rubble dispersed itself around him. Sirius smiled slowly and with satisfaction, and then looked towards his tutor for his evaluation.

"Parfait!" Monsieur Chevalier clapped his hands. “Bravo, Master Sirius! Magnifique!” 
Sirius smiled and stowed his wand away in his robes. His young face was hot and sweaty, his black hair clinging to the side of his face in clumps. Three hours of duelling was exhausting work.

“I was good, wasn’t I?” Sirius said, a massive grin lighting up his face.

“Good you are, Sirius, but excellence is what you must achieve,” Mrs. Black said. She strode towards him from where she had been watching in the shade of a palm tree, a stern expression on her face, her skin alight with scepticism. Her black hair was tightly pulled back into a bun, her tall and lean figure upright and formal. Aware that Sirius’ lesson was almost complete, she had only been observing him for the past five minutes.

“Mother, didn’t you see how I cursed him to smithereens? He didn‘t even touch me and we were at it for hours.”

“Your posture is sloppy. Back straight is the way to go. And your knees, they were quite obviously caving. You were getting tired, Sirius, and it was showing. Then there is the movement in your wrists – far too slow. In a real duel you would hardly last ten minutes.” She turned her attention to Monsieur Chevalier. “Monsieur, you are my son’s tutor, why have you not pointed out these failings in his performance before? I do not pay you to boost his ego. I pay you to teach him true form.”

“Madam, I assure you, Master Sirius’ form is quite exemplary.”

“Hardly.” Mrs. Black sniffed and pointed her nose in the air dismissively. “I expect the best tutoring and if you cannot be bothered –“

“Non! Non, Madam! I apologise if you feel his performance is lacking. We shall work on it.”

Sirius sighed. He was looking at the ground, watching the tiny ants scurry around his feet. Work, work, work, he barely had any time to enjoy the summer.

“And what of my youngest? How would you critique his duelling skills?”

“Ah, Regulus is doing a fine job. We were at it for more than an hour this morning.”

“Is that all? Well, I certainly don’t see how an hour can be of much benefit.”

“I mastered the body-bind curse, Mother!” Regulus called. Although he was one year younger than Sirius, he might as well have been his twin. He mirrored Sirius in almost every way. Both tall for their ages, they possessed the same prominent aristocratic features. They had the same grey eyes and the same messy mass of jet black hair that fell in that elegant way across their foreheads. He was seated on the ground beside the fountain, a book in his lap.

“Regulus! Get up off that filthy ground immediately! You will get awfully dirty!”

Regulus jumped up hastily, his book falling to the ground.

“Now, Sirius, have you done your reading on the Ancient Civilisations and Settlements of Primitive Sorcerers today?”

“Yes, I read it this morning.”

“Have you prepared a synopsis for it?”

“Not yet –“

“Well be sure you do. Monsieur Chevalier has set you this work for a reason.”

“I gave him a week to write up the report, Madam.”

“A week? For what absurd reason would you do that? A day would be more than enough.”

“A day?” Sirius gaped, his mouth slightly open.

“Be sure you have it prepared by tomorrow, Sirius.” Mrs. Black looked at him sternly.

“Yes Mother.” Sirius couldn’t believe it. The report would take him many hours to write. He’d probably be awake half the night writing about how wizards finally discovered they could produce light from the tips of their wands. It was an awfully dull book.

“And have you practiced your clarinet today?”

“I haven’t had time,” Sirius protested.

“Haven’t had time?” Mrs. Black looked at her son in disbelief. “Do you think Salazar Slytherin said he didn’t have time when he was founding Hogwarts School almost completely by himself; do you think my dear cousin Araminta Meliflua – god bless her soul – said she didn’t have time when she was campaigning to make Muggle-hunting legal –“

“Well, she lost though, didn’t she? Muggle-hunting isn’t legal –“

“That’s beside the point! Other than portraying a serious error in the way our legal system is run, the point is that you have just as much time as either of those great people had, and if you cannot learn to prioritise –“

“Mother, I can prioritise –“

“See that you do. You will give me a performance this evening before bed.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“By the way, this just came for you this morning.” His mother handed him an envelope.
“My Hogwarts letter!” Sirius said excitedly, taking the letter from his mother. “I thought it was never going to get here!”

“It does seem to have taken a long time,” his mother said, frowning. “It must be that Muggle loving old fool, Albus Dumbledore. I deeply regret that you will have to be at school under such an incompetent headmaster.”

Sirius scanned his letter. “Yep, it’s just to be expected. September 1st, Kings Cross.”

“Andromeda’s letter has come this morning as well. I wonder where she is.”

Sirius shrugged. “We haven’t seen much of her these holidays. She just stays locked in her room all the time. What’s up with that?”

“I believe she is studying,” Monsieur Chevalier said. “You know she’s taking her NEWTs this year?”

“And to think she has to complete such an important school year under such an incompetent headmaster,” Mrs. Black said with a shake of her head. “Slytherin only knows what the Ministry must have been thinking to elect such a madman to take charge of our children. I must say, I do fear for our young ones, I do indeed. My dear old great-grandfather Phineas was an outstanding headmaster,” she looked down at Sirius. “However, I do not want your negative feelings towards Albus Dumbledore to get in the way of your studies. We have high hopes for you, of course.”

“Yes, Mother. You’ve told me all this before.”

“Well, you be sure to remember it. Right, now, on to other things. This afternoon we are scheduled for a tour at Musee de Chef-d'œuvres Magiques. After that we shall be attending tea with Monsieur de Lavoisier.”

Sirius felt his stomach sink to the floor. He’d been looking forward to going hover boarding this afternoon and now he had to go and spend all afternoon looking at boring paintings and eating dinner with dull politicians.

“Do not forget that we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow so a good nights rest is vital. I need you up before, dawn, Master Sirius, Master Regulus,” Monsieur Chevalier reminded them.

The boys nodded.

“Sirius I want you cleaned up and showered,” Mrs. Black said. “You look terrible. Regulus, change your robes. And in future, conjure a chair to sit on before soiling your bottom. I thought you’d learnt the conjuring charm last month.”

“Yes Mother,” Regulus said sheepishly.

Mrs. Black strode back to the Chateau de Pureté. The chateau had been in the Black family for centuries and Sirius had spent every summer there since he was born. Far from being spent as a holiday home, summer in St. Tropez, France, was a training ground. Sirius and his brother had to continue their home-schooling in a different environment. Discipline was something their parents enforced quite strictly.

“Well, hurry up, boys!” Mrs. Black called from the entrance of the chateau. “What on earth are you standing around for?” She turned and disappeared from view.

Sirius looked at his brother and shrugged. Together the boys hurried inside the majestic chateau, walked past their fifteen-year-old cousin, Narcissa, playing on the piano and headed upstairs to Andromeda’s room.

They knocked on Andromeda’s door but did not receive an answer, so they pushed the door open and went inside.

They saw Andromeda’s slender form sitting at a desk on the far end of the room. Her head was bowed low and her long light brown hair fell to one side. She seemed so absorbed to the point that she didn’t realise that anyone was in her room until Sirius touched her shoulder.

She jumped as if she’d been electrocuted.

“Why so jumpy, Andy?” Regulus asked and leaned over to see what she was writing.

Andromeda tried to cover her parchment up with her arms.

“Are you really just studying?” Sirius asked. “We’ve barely seen you all summer.”

“Oh, well.” Andromeda looked very flustered. She hastily brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’ve just been… it’s nothing.”

“We brought you your Hogwarts letter,” Sirius said. “They arrived this morning.”

“Oh, thanks.” Andromeda took the letter, her fingers twitching nervously. She looked at them questioningly. “Is there something you wanted?”

“What’s that?” Regulus asked, trying to reach around her and grab her parchment.

Andromeda slammed her hand down upon the desk, causing her ink pot to totter dangerously on the surface.

Regulus was shocked. He withdrew his hand and leaned into Sirius.

“Are you going to open that?” Sirius asked nodding at the Hogwarts letter still clutched in her hands. He was watching her suspiciously now.

Andromeda glanced at the envelope and tore it open allowing for a miniscule tiny object to fall into her lap.

“What’s that?” Regulus asked.

“It’s a Head Girl badge,” Sirius said excitedly. “Wow, Andy, you’re Head Girl.”

Andromeda smiled brightly as she picked the badge up and examined it. “I wasn’t sure whether or not to expect it.”

“Congratulations, Andromeda,” a voice sang out behind them. Narcissa walked into the room as if she owned it, her blonde curls bouncing about her rosy heart-shaped face. “Head girl, how marvellous. Father will be so proud.”

“Thank you, Cissy,” Andromeda said. “Thank you, all of you. If you don’t mind, however, I must be getting back to my studies –“

“But I have yet to tell you my wonderful news,” Narcissa said, a pout playing at the sides of her mouth.

“What news is that?”

“If you’d rather I left –“

Andromeda sighed. “Cissy, I’m sorry. What news do you have?”

“I’m a form prefect,” she said proudly.

“That’s wonderful, Cissy!” Andromeda said happily, jumping up to embrace her sister. “That’s everyone in our family. Father will be so proud.”

“Of course, I knew I would be. I was just pleased to finally receive my badge. Of course it is a rather revolting thing to have to pin to my robes, but sacrifices must be made for intelligence, I suppose.” She patted her hair importantly. “I’d like to compose a letter to Bella,” she said and walked towards Andromeda’s desk. “May I borrow some parchment?”

“No!” Andromeda yelled perhaps too loudly and jumped in front of her sister. “I mean, my work... it’s all in order. I don’t want you to mess it up.”

Narcissa was taken aback. “Well, you don’t need to be quite so rude, Andy.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just –“

“Never mind, I completely understand.” Narcissa began walking towards the door, her nose stuck in the air. “Oh, by the way, Aunt Walburga wants everyone ready and downstairs shortly. We’re going to the Musee de Chef-d'œuvres Magiques.”

“Are we really?” Andromeda said with a sigh. “I suppose that means I’ll have to finish all of this later.” She waved her wand across her documents and followed her cousins out of the room.





Sirius and Regulus kept close to their mother and cousins as they followed the tour guide into the next room. It had almost gone an hour and a half since they had arrived at the Musee de Chef-d'œuvres Magiques, and Sirius was beginning to feel restless. As they stopped before another painting, this time depicting a wilting black tulip flowing in the wind, his mind wandered yet again from his favourite music group the Hobgoblins to the latest trick he had learnt on his hover board to the letter he’d received from his best friend, Evan, only that morning.

Evan Rosier had excitedly recited news of receiving his Hogwarts letter and had gone on to tell of all the enjoyable things he and his sister had been doing that summer at their home in Dorchester. Sirius felt slightly jealous by this as he was well aware that the Rosier’s didn’t have lessons over the summer the way he and Regulus did, but he was cheered greatly by the news that he would be seeing his best friend upon their return to England in a fortnight, as they still had their Ascension to attend.

The Ascension was a huge deal and he had been looking forward to it for months. It marked his growth as a wizard and as an Avenger, the organisation he belonged to that brought together young pure-blood wizards to escape the tyranny of the Ministry which promoted the mixing of blood.

He managed to survive the museum tour for the most part by entertaining his thoughts in this way, while his cousins and brother looked on to the artwork with sincere interest.

“But is it not prudent to suppose that the black tulip could be symbolic of the darkness dying and making way for new light and life? Rather than as you say, a means to depict the ‘so-called’ indoctrination of the wizard-race –“

Andromeda could always be counted upon to share her opinion of the masterpieces with everyone else, but this tactic was never well received. Sirius had once heard his father say that Andromeda was becoming far too outspoken these days and that it was unbecoming for a lady of her stature to voice such thoughts. So it was of no surprise when he heard his mother shush Andromeda sternly.

Sirius did not care much for art. He could perhaps name most of the greatest artists of the wizarding world and he could probably analyse just as many paintings if he were required to, but that was not at all because he liked art. On the contrary, the only reason he had so much knowledge was because it had been expounded upon him since he were a toddler and there were times when he honestly thought this was the reason why he might ever get headaches.

He looked up at the painting, more out of curiosity than anything else, and felt unusually captivated by the wax and the oil. The black tulip bore into him, mesmerising his eyes by its intricate detail and design. He felt drawn by its intensity and he found he could not look away. There was something incredible about it, as if its artist had truly been trying to relay a message, portray a meaning. Black, the colour was captivating. Black, its beauty stole upon him. The petals were wilting, dropping to the ground, dying. Sirius shivered as the tulip continued to shed its bodice. Black, the colour was all too familiar to Sirius.

“Sirius! Keep up will you!”

The spell was broken. Sirius looked away and saw his mother beckoning to him from further down the hall. It seemed they were moving on. He chanced one last glance at the painting. It was stationary, as still as a Muggle picture. He ran over to join the group.





“Reggie, come here quickly.”

Regulus walked over to where his brother stood beside a large museum artefact. Another hour had passed and they had been given the freedom to roam about the museum by themselves.

“Lie down over here and put your head in this hole,” Sirius said and tapped the artefact with his foot.

“Why?”

“So we can play a game.”

Regulus lay down as he was told and Sirius walked over to a rope. “Okay, don’t move,” he instructed and he untied the rope. He pulled it back as far as he could and looked at his brother mischievously. Just as he was about to let go, Andromeda ran over to him frantically.

“Stop it!” she cried. “Sirius, what are you doing? Regulus, get up!” She grabbed Sirius and wrestled the rope out of his hands. She swatted him across the shoulder. “Have you gone mad?” she exclaimed.

“Have you gone mad?” Sirius shot back. “We were just playing –“

“Do you know what this is?”

“A gully-something or other,” Sirius said, clearly puzzled by his cousin’s reaction. “It’s a Muggle toy –“

“It’s not a toy, Sirius! It’s a guillotine. It cuts people’s heads off. Did you want to cut your brothers head off?” She waved her wand to retie the rope.

“It wouldn’t have hurt him,” Sirius argued. “It says right there –“ he pointed to a plaque to the side of it “– that Muggle’s attempted to use it on wizards but never succeeded because we’re too powerful –“

“The only reason it never worked, Sirius, is because the wizards blocked it with a spell. Now, was Regulus prepared to block it with a spell? I don’t think so – I doubt he even knows a spell powerful enough –“

“Slytherin’s serpent! It was a game!”

“You cannot play with people’s lives, Sirius, Muggle or Magical.”

“How do you know all this Muggle rubbish, anyway?”

Andromeda turned a slight shade of pink. “Look, I’m sorry I yelled, but next time please don’t touch things you don’t understand.” She turned and walked away.

Regulus looked at Sirius blankly. “Does this mean the game is over?”





The evening could not have come sooner for Sirius and his brother, when they went to tea at a small little Magical Cafe on the French Riviera. Andromeda and Narcissa were chatting with each other, discussing the history of some of the art they had just been to see. They sat down at the table and the wine bottle half filled their glasses.

Mr. Black was already seated there chatting with Monsieur Henri de Lavoisier, a great friend of his. As usual, he was smoking a fat cigar and gesticulating wildly with his hands. He was a very good looking man, tall and nicely built, with neatly tapered black hair just brushing his collar. It was easy to see the resemblance between himself and both his sons, who would most likely grow to look just like him.

“... I overheard the Minister the next morning, said he was uncertain and actually worried. But when he saw me it was all smiles and cups of tea. He thinks I’m daft, he does,” he said speaking in rapid French.

“What’s he worried about?” Sirius asked curiously.

“Don’t interrupt Sirius,” Mr. Black reprimanded. “It’s in the news too of course,” he continued, still addressing his friend. “Disappearances. Mostly just Muggle-borns, no one of any real importance, but I heard it said that the Minister is worried. He thinks something bad is coming.”

Monsieur de Lavoisier chuckled into his wine glass. “Ah, British politics, I do so love to hear your amusing stories, Orion.”

“I came up with a theory last night Father when I was reading the book set for me by Monsieur Chevalier,” Sirius said, attempting once again to join the adult conversation.

“Son, I’m in the middle of a conversation –“

“About Mudbloods, I know, and I have the solution to the problem.”

Mr. Black was curious despite himself and looked to Sirius questioningly.

“We should enslave them!”

Andromeda who was in the process of daintily sipping her wine started choking. Spluttering, she looked stricken. “Pardon?” she croaked.

Sirius smiled widely. “I have it all figured out. Instead of getting rid of them, why don’t we just make them our slaves? That way they would contribute to society and wouldn’t be so worthless anymore, so everybody would win.”

Monsieur Henri de Lavoisier started laughing but Mr. Black just looked baffled. “It’s not really that simple, son.”

“Why not? The Ministry think it’s wrong to try and purify the race, but like you said, Mudbloods don’t do much for our society, so if we put them to work for us we wouldn’t have to worry about excluding them anymore, because they would be helping us.”

Monsieur Henri de Lavoisier continued to laugh. “You can’t argue with logic like that, Orion.”

“It’s not supposed to be funny,” Sirius said.

“I’m afraid your solution would not be received well by the Ministry, Sirius,” his father said with a note of humour in his voice. “They are too blind to see the truth of the situation. Magical blood is in grave peril and I only hope the disease of our race can be cured before it is too late.”

“It will be,” Narcissa said. “I received a letter from Bella just today. She is confident that the uprising will prove most successful for the preservation of our people. Her letter was full of promise to be sure. There is a powerful leader of our people as you are aware and Bella wrote of how she has met him and conversed with him. She sounded positively in awe. There is certainly hope.”

“I have heard of this King of the Pure-Bloods,” Monsieur Henri de Lavoisier said. “You British are lucky to receive such a saviour. I only hope our own people can survive the poison being fed to us by the state.”

“Oh, The Dark Lord is not only bent on freeing the British, but he intends to extend his influence to the whole world eventually,” Narcissa said. “Bella is quite passionate in her letters and lets me know all the gossip.”

“What a great man,” Mrs. Black said. “I am so proud of Bellatrix for extending her hand to such a noble cause. Sirius, perhaps one day you might do the same.”

“Definitely, I want to help eradicate this world of all the mixed-blood scum,” he stated bluntly.

“Me too!” Regulus joined in. “I’m going to as well.”

Andromeda stood up at that moment. She looked rather pale. “May I be excused?”

“Andromeda, are you ill?” Mrs. Black said, concerned.

“I – yes – I need to lie down. I beg your pardon.” She left the table and headed back along the Rivera towards the chateau.

“It’s Sirius’ Ascension in a fortnight,” Mr. Black told his friend proudly.

Sirius smiled brightly. “That should be great. I just know I’m going to be given the Corporal Avenger award.”

“A true Black-hearted soldier,” Mr. Black thumped his son on the back enthusiastically.

“You’ve trained your boy well, Orion,” Monsieur de Lavoisier said. “He’s going to set the world on fire, that one: a fine Heir.”

“That he is,” Mr. Black said in agreement. “That he is.” 





A/N: Hi everyone! *waves with utmost glee* I'm so, so glad to finally get this up. Thanks if you made it to the end of the first chapter. I've been working on this story for close to two years but my first draft was so bad i've given an extensive revision and editing makeover to the poor thing. But yeah, first chappie I have now decided is good enough for distribution. *blushes* Well, I certainly hope it is! 

I want to thank loads of people for the help i've received on this, but specifically I must thank my friends and mostly my dad who has had to spend hours listening to me discuss intricate plot details and twists, despite never having actually read the masterpieces of Harry Potter himself. His knowledge of history and warfare and experience of going to a public boarding school in the 1970s is invaluable. Thanks dad! Then I need to thank Mistress of the HPFF forums for helping me out on creating a French setting for my first few chappies. And of course all you other HPFFs who hang around the forums offering your great help to those in need. You all rock. *hugs*

Okay, next I must ask you to forgive my lack of knowledge with regards to the French language and customs. If anyone knows better than me - and many of you will - feel free to correct me on anything that is inaccurate. In fact, I must insist that you call me out on it immediately. *grins* Particularly the French phrases - I used an online translater. Bad, bad, bad. I KNOW! *ashamed* (A huge thank you to ElissandrAnne of the HPFF forums for recently correctly me on the French! I appreciate it!)

Next I must unfortunately and very unhappily confess that I am not Jo Rowling the Mistress of Magic, although I might sometimes pretend that I am. It pains me to have to disappoint you in such a way, but I feel that honesty really is the best policy in such situations. *wipes a tear from the cheek*

Right, well, i'm over it now so on to other things. Reviews. Lovely, lovely, lovely reviews. See, i'm a writer. Well, okay so i've never seen any of my work in print but I will argue to the death that I am a writer. And I like people to like my work. Well, who wouldn't. But I also like people to give helpful feedback on my work too. Writers thrive on it. It's a kind of life source, should we say. The blood of literature. I would greatly appreciate hearing from you my fellow fanfictioners who have so honoured me by opening this page today. Please leave comments, suggestions, feedback. *big smile*

Hugs and kisses, Lily xxx

Chapter 2: At the Home of Uncle Alphard
  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]




“Missed me!” Sirius called out gleefully, dodging the curse his brother shot his way. “Ha, ha! You can’t get me!” He skilfully dodged another and stuck his tongue out mockingly.

“Come on, Reggie, you couldn’t hit a Muggle, you couldn’t –, “ his sentence trailed off as he was hit full in the face by a powerful hex. “Ooof!” his feet flew straight up in the air and he was thrown backwards against a nearby wall.

Groaning, he shook his head, which had turned a shade of bubblegum pink and grown a few inches longer.

Regulus grinned happily. “I hexed you!” he shrieked. “I did it! I hexed you!”

“Yeah, well there’s no need to look so happy about it.” Sirius said sulkily as he stood up and dusted himself off.

Regulus was doubled over in hysterical laughter.

“What is going on in here?” Mrs. Black said in annoyance, walking into the room. “Slytherin’s serpent, Sirius! What have you done to your hair?”

Silence rang throughout the room.

“Answer me at once!”

“Regulus hexed me,” Sirius said quietly.

“Did he?” Mrs. Black’s lip curled slightly. “As pleasing as it is to note that your cursing is improving, Regulus, I will not tolerate this type of behaviour inside the Chateau!”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Stop fooling around and do something useful!”

“Yes, Mother. Sorry, Mother.”

“Sirius, get rid of that ridiculous hairstyle!”

Sirius just stood there, his cheeks beginning to burn.

“Well?”

“I don’t know how,” Sirius admitted.

“Oh, my blood!” Mrs. Black closed her eyes and counted silently to ten. When she opened her eyes again she waved her wand sharply. Sirius hair turned back to normal. “You will work harder on your transfiguration, Sirius.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Stop playing around and get ready. We’re leaving soon.”

“We are ready.”

“Then go and help your father. He’s outside with the horses.”

Mr. Black and Monsieur Chevalier were charming the suitcases to fit upon the horses. “All set,” Mr. Black confirmed.

“I just hexed Sirius,” Regulus said with a grin as the boys caught up to the men.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “He hit me with one lousy curse and now he thinks he’s some kind of Spell whiz.”

Mr. Black chuckled. “Excellent boys, perhaps it is time Monsieur Chevalier began teaching you some more advanced curses.”

“Certainly, I can do that.”

“Wicked, can we learn that one that turns a person’s eyes inside out?” Sirius asked excitedly.

“That is strong magic, Master Sirius; you would need plenty of power to work it, and lots of practice.”

“I’m powerful.”

“You are, but you are still young. Some magic can take years to master. Patience is extremely important for those who wish to become the great wizards of the age.”

“See Sirius,” Regulus said with a grin. “Patience – guess that leaves you out, then.”

“Har-har-de-har-har, how very funny.”

“That’s enough, boys.” Mr. Black patted his horse lightly and turned around. “We should be leaving. Sirius, Regulus, get in the carriage. I’m going to fetch your mother and cousins. Then it’s back to London.”

“Back to London,” Sirius repeated with a smile, shoving his brother out of the way so he could climb into the carriage first.

The short flight across the English Channel by way of winged horses and a Disillusionment Charm did not take very long. Sirius enjoyed leaning out of the carriage and feeling the cool afternoon air rush past him. Below he could see the great ocean waves overturning upon one another, and little boats bobbing up and down. It was such a liberating experience.

Sirius was suddenly yanked away from the window by his mother who glared severely at him. “Only Mud-bloods gawk out of windows Sirius! I did not raise you in a barn!” He sighed inwardly and sat back against his seat, vaguely wondering how he could possibly amuse himself for the rest of the journey under his watchful mother’s eyes.

Upon arrival back in London, Sirius soon found himself stood in the Entrance Hall of their London family home. A large home: grand and old fashioned, well kept with lush carpeting and expensive wall decorations, lit brightly by chandeliers and gas lamps.

Within seconds, Kreacher their house-elf was before them, bowing low. “Welcome back Masters. Kreacher has kept the house well, yes Kreacher has kept the house very well.” He bowed even lower, his long nose scraping the stone floor.

“Very good, Kreacher.” Mr. Black loaded the elf’s arms up with luggage and then tore his travelling cloak from around his neck and threw it onto the nearby coat hook. “I hope dinner is ready.”

“Yes, yes, Master. Kreacher has a hot meal waiting,” the house-elf said eagerly, tottering under the weight of all the bags.

Sirius nodded at Kreacher and followed the succession into the dining room. He was pleased to be home. It had been an exhausting holiday in France and although he would be starting school soon, he was looking forward to seeing his friends again.

After supper, the boys were given the freedom to do whatever they wanted provided they did not go further than the end of their street. Sirius, who was not about to let such an opportunity pass him by, quickly calculated how long it would take him to visit his uncle Alphard and still be back in time for bed.

He grabbed his hover board and headed into the street, Regulus trailing after him.

“Can I have a go?”

“With what?”

“Boarding. Siri, please let me have a go!”

“Not now. But I tell you what. I’ll let you play with it all day tomorrow if you can keep a secret.”

“What secret?” Regulus asked eagerly.

“I’ve got to go somewhere, see, and I don’t want mum and dad to find out.”

“Where’ve you got to go?”

“Just some place. Promise you won’t tell?”

“But Siri, mum and dad’ll do their nut if they find out!”

“Well, they aren’t going to find out, just as long as you keep quiet.”

“What if they ask?”

“Make something up, then.” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“And you’ll let me play with your hover board tomorrow?”

Sirius shrugged in agreement.

“Well okay... but can’t I come with you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You just can’t, all right?”

“You never let me do anything with you!”

“Stop whinging. I’ll be back soon.”

Regulus stared after his brother in despair as he headed up the road.

It wasn’t a long way, and Sirius was fairly good on his hover board. His father had at last relented after years of being nagged and had given it to him for his last birthday. It had been cast with the phantasm charm by way of his uncle so as to trick Muggle’s into thinking it was a Muggle toy.

Uncle Alphard was not particularly welcomed over at the Black House anymore, for he was an eccentric man and, as Sirius had heard his parents mention various times before, held radical views. But nevertheless, Sirius had always been a regular visitor at his home, and loved to find out about his latest mad ideas and gadgets.

Sirius’ journey took him through Regents Park. He never particularly enjoyed walking through the park because it was always littered with Muggles and he was afraid he might catch something, but it was the quickest way to Camden Town where his uncle lived, so he was prepared to take his chances.

Sirius recoiled within himself as he entered the park. Muggles swarmed about him in buzzing groups, and Sirius found himself beginning to feel nauseous at the sight. He hopped off his hover board, held his head up high with obvious superiority and walked rather more carefully up the path that ran through the centre of the park, his eyes twittering back and forth as he went. Muggles were everywhere. Some were running about the place kicking a ball with their feet and chasing each other. Others were wearing strange white clothing and swinging a flat-shaped bat around in an attempt to hit a red ball that couldn’t even fly. More of them were simply running around and round in circles with clearly no actual point.

Sirius raised his eyebrows in distaste at the sight. “Like dogs, they are,” he muttered to himself. 

He walked across a smooth section of grass, passing by the Muggles dressed all in white. The red ball they were playing with whizzed past his head, just surpassing his ear, and fell to the ground with a thump. He looked at it curiously, half expecting it to jump up and attempt to collide with him as a bludger would have done. But it just lay there, completely still.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing, kid?” the Muggle with the bat yelled. “Get off the pitch!” 

Pitch? What pitch? Sirius didn’t know what they were talking about, but didn’t much care either. He stood up ever more straight and just carried on walking, ignoring the deadly looks being thrown his way.

At last Sirius reached Camden Town and made sure he walked as far away from the Muggle-infested streets as he could. Unlike Sirius’ own home, Alphard’s house held few charms to keep its whereabouts hidden, and as such Sirius saw it long before he had reached the front door. It looked quite ordinary from the outside, but Sirius knew that this was only a deception, for within the walls lay an entire wizard workshop.

Without bothering to knock, Sirius entered the house. Alphard was usually far too absent-minded to lock the front door, and sometimes it remained unlocked for days on end, but that never caused much of a problem as Alphard hardly ever left the house, preferring to spend most of his time tinkering with his new inventions or studying the art of alchemy. To many, Alphard was seen as a bit of a buffoon, but to Sirius he was a genius.

Sirius found him exactly where he had predicted, in his workshop pouring over some strange device that was spitting and growling at him from the tabletop.

“Uncle?” Sirius tried to walk closer to him but found his way blocked by scraps of metal and rock guarding his way. “Uncle?” Sirius asked again, aiming a kick at the mess before him. He took a moment to glance around. The room was not that different from how he remembered. Hardly any space existed on the walls, most of it having been covered up with drawings and diagrams and theories. His large blackboard covered an entire section of wall, and a piece of chalk was etching complicated-looking equations across it at immense speed. Alphard was wearing a strange contraption on his head, which looked to be made of wood and leaves.

“Uncle!” Sirius said in a much louder voice.

Uncle Alphard jumped violently where he was standing. A bang sounded at Alphard’s head, and the chalk suddenly went berserk, speeding across the board with intense ferocity and then launching itself at Sirius’ head. He only just managed to avoid it and it exploded into splinters against the wall.

Uncle Alphard twitchingly removed the strange device from his head and Sirius saw that his shaggy white hair had been slightly singed at the ends.

“Upon my word!” Alphard was breathing heavily. “Merlin’s Beard, was it your intention to half kill me?”

“What are you working on?” Sirius asked eagerly, not bothering to apologise. “Anything exciting?”

“Exceedingly,” Alphard replied. “I am at a crucial point in the development of my work. I did not expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, well, we just got back from France and I’m bored.”

“Hmm, do your parents know you are here?”

Sirius snorted. “Nah, but they’re too busy to bother with me today.”

“And you so kindly decided to pay me a visit. I’m touched,” Alphard said dryly.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how France was?”

“Very well. How was France?”

“Dull.”

“I see. Care to elaborate on that?”

“Well, I learnt some cool new curses and Monsieur Chevalier says my dueling is exemplary.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad, then.”

“But I had to write so many essays and go to museums and all that boring stuff.”

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius! How terrible for you!” Alphard said mockingly.

“It was terrible!”

“You’re a Black, Sirius. It comes with the territory.”

Sirius grinned. “It’s my Ascension tomorrow you know. Are you going to come?”

Alphard chuckled. “You know I can’t.”

“Yeah… still, it’ll be…”

“What?”

“Well, I’m going to be Corporeal Avenger.”

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“It’s like you just said. I’m a Black. Of course I’m going to get it.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Sirius leaned forward onto his uncle’s worktop. “So what have you been working on?”

“Rats! I do hope it’s okay!”

“What?”

“My nifty mind reader.” Alphard picked up the helmet made out of leaves and wood that he had been wearing when Sirius had walked in. “An extraordinary invention if I do say so myself. Sometimes my thoughts get to be too much for me, and I am unable to keep up with the growing genius of my ideas.” He turned around and gave Sirius a wink. “So, I invented this.” He held up the odd contraption. “The magical components of my helmet have been charmed to read the inner most thoughts of my mind. I then charm the chalk to read my brain waves, and voila, all my ideas, sifted through and jotted down for me on the blackboard to peruse at my pleasure.”

“Wow.” Sirius was impressed.

“What do you think?”

“It’s a great idea.”

“I’m very pleased you approve.”

“Can you make me one?”

“Make you one?” Alphard snorted loudly and began to chuckle. “What on earth for?”

Sirius felt slightly hurt. “I have lots of thoughts too,” he protested.

Alphard shook his head, still chuckling. “I’m sure you do my boy.” And then slightly more quietly he added, “I just wish that even a quarter of those thoughts were yours alone.”

Sirius stared. “What do you mean?”

“What?”

“Who else’s thoughts would they be?”

“What?” Alphard repeated again turning back to his work.

“You just said…. Oh forget it,” Sirius sighed noticing that his uncle no longer seemed to be paying him any attention. “So how does it work?” he asked, pointing to his uncle’s latest invention.





Two hours later, Sirius said goodbye to his uncle and started to make his way back home. His mind was reeling with facts and figures that his uncle had gone on about and of which Sirius did not really understand. It was all very intriguing to him though as there seemed to be an almost secretive element to it all that sent spasms of excitement through his body.

It was reaching nine o’ clock now and although still rather light outside the sun had already begun to set. Sirius hoped that Regulus had covered for him should his parents enquire about his whereabouts as he knew that were his absence discovered, he would be in a whole world of trouble.

There were less people in Regents Park now and the Muggles dressed in the white clothing were no longer there. Sirius was glad to be able to walk through the park freely and he did so happily.

“You ain’t wan’ed ‘ere, Black, so clear off!”

Sirius looked up in surprise. He saw a small group of Muggles walking towards him that he hadn’t noticed before. He recognised them easily as some of the kids who lived on his street. He’d had a few scuffles with them in the past.

“Hey freak, come to cast a spell on me?” a tall and skinny boy with a face full of pimples said aggressively. Cooper, his name was, and although he was three years older, Sirius matched the boy in height.

Sirius stopped walking and turned to them. “I will if you aren’t careful.”

The group started laughing.

“Double, double, toil and trouble… oooh I’m so scared…” a girl said nastily.

Sirius scowled. “You should be.” He marched up to Cooper and looked him straight in the eye, but before he could register what had happened Cooper had reached out and grabbed Sirius by the front of his black shirt. He drew him up closer, and then pushed him with all his might into the dirty ground.

Sirius was caught by surprise and found himself on the ground amidst a cloud of dust. He felt his arm scrape painfully against a rock jutting from the ground, and then his chin collided with the hard undergrowth.

When the dust began to clear, Sirius tried to pull himself up, but was too late to react as the sole of Cooper’s shoe stamped on his fingers and dug them aggressively into the ground. He cried out and grabbed hold of Cooper’s leg, pulling it out from under him. The older boy came crashing to the ground, amass a jumble of limbs.

Sirius pulled his hand out of the ground and lunged at the fallen figure of Cooper. His fingers clawed at the boys face, frantically trying to tear at his skin, but Cooper took a firm hold of his longish dark hair and pulled.

“Arrrgghhh,” Sirius cried falling back again. He clutched at the back of his head and thought he could feel the sticky sensation of blood.

Cooper took this opportunity to stand up and take a firm kick at Sirius’ stomach. The foot collided with his chest and Sirius felt the wind knocked out of him. He could faintly hear the sounds of laughter in the distance, and was burning with humiliation beyond anything he had ever felt before.

He managed to pull himself up, determined not to let anyone see that he was in pain, and swore violently at the group. “You filthy Muggles,” he spat, feeling his hatred towards them bubbling up in his chest. “You just bloody wait.”

“Wait for what, Black?” one of the group sneered. “One of your curses?”

“Actually, you’re right. Why wait?” He pulled his wand out of his robes and pointed it in front of him.

Cooper laughed wildly. “What this, then? More games? You can’t be serious!”

“I hate your kind!” Sirius said shaking with overwhelming hatred. “But I especially hate you!” he flicked his wand sharply. “Diffindo!”

Cooper yelled as great jagged cuts appeared in his arm, and blood started seeping out of the open wound. Then one by one all the Muggles started yelling and screaming.

Sirius just stared at them all, the hatred etched in his face. “Serves you right,” he announced before turning around and starting to run. He didn’t stop running until he got home, ran inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

The hallway was silent where he had just entered and afraid that he might soon be discovered by his parents, he ran upstairs to his bedroom taking two steps at a time, grumbling obscenities under his breath. 










Sirius awoke the next morning with a thumping headache. Groaning slightly, he sat up in his bed, and blinked rapidly around the faint outline of his bedroom.

It was a spacious, majestic room. The walls were layered by a silvery-grey silk, and long velvet curtains blocked the sunlight from penetrating the tall window. There were a few posters of his favourite music group the Hobgoblins stuck up haphazardly on the walls. A large sign hung across the back of his door that read: Better to be Dead than Red! in shock red lettering.

His room was sparkly clean and if it were not for Sirius himself, would have looked almost uninhabited. He rolled across his large bed and grabbed his wand from his bedside table. Aiming it at the candles, he muttered the incantation that ignited them. He rarely opened his curtains to let the sunlight in.

Beside his bed were his precious collection of music devices; his wizarding wireless; his rusty guitar; and his interesting collection of assorted wrist bands. His clarinet had been put carefully beside his door but he didn’t care much for that particular instrument. He would have much rather his parents allow him to learn the guitar, but as that particular request was completely out of the question he had taken to teaching himself with an old contraption that his Uncle Alphard had helped him put together.

Sirius crawled out of bed, almost tripping over his hover board which had drifted across the room during the night, and rubbed the back of his head soothingly. He had a quick shower and got dressed into his favourite black jeans with a Hobgoblins shirt on top, and then descended into the basement kitchen where Kreacher was bewitching pots and pans to clean themselves.

Regulus was already seated at the table pouring large quantities of syrup onto his porridge. Sirius pulled a chair up beside him.

“Ah Sirius,” his father looked up from the Daily Prophet, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “Just the wizard I wanted to see.”

Sirius looked at his father and waited.

“As you know, tonight is your –” he broke off suddenly and stared at Sirius. “What’s that?”

“What?”

“That mark on your chin.” Orion put down his newspaper and leaned towards Sirius. “You have bruises,” he said.

Sirius’ hand flew to his chin with lightening speed and his brain worked furiously to come up with an excuse.

“What happened?”

“Oh, I just fell over,” Sirius replied, perhaps a little too quickly.

Orion looked unconvinced. “Have you been fighting?”

“No.” Sirius shook his head. “I just fell.”

Orion raised his eyebrows sceptically but seemed to believe him as he changed the subject. “Your Ascension,” he said. “Make sure you are looking respectable tonight my boy. We have a reputation to uphold and I intend you to come out on top and looking your best.”

“Don’t I always,” Sirius replied, slathering marmalade on his toast.

Mrs. Black clucked her tongue from where she was rummaging in the pantry.

“Make sure you are there at seven sharp,” Mr. Black added, turning to his wife. “I’ll be meeting you there.” He stood up, put his top hat on and nodded around the room. “Have a good day everyone. Stay out of trouble, boys.” He left the room. 





“Daddy!” Narcissa cried.

“Hi, sweetheart” Cygnus Black gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek and then shook off his cloak.

“Cygnus, how wonderful. I wasn’t expecting you until later tonight,” Mrs. Black said in greeting.

“Hi, Uncle Cygnus,” Sirius said reaching the bottom of the stairs, his brother peering over him from behind.

“Master Sirius.” Cygnus held out his hand for Sirius to shake. “And Master Reggie. My you boys look so big. Sirius, a Hogwarts student now, I hear.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Won’t you come through to the living room,” Mrs. Black invited, taking his cloak off his hands and throwing it on top of Kreacher.

“I was hoping to speak to Andromeda though. Where is she?” Cygnus asked as they settled together in the cosy room.

“I’m here, Father.”

Andromeda had just followed them into the room. She gave her father a quick peck on the cheek and then held up her Hogwarts badge. “I’m Head Girl.”

“That’s marvellous!” Cygnus clapped his hands together rather like an excited little boy. “How wonderful.”

“I’m a prefect,” Narcissa said hurriedly, but unfortunately her father did not seem to hear her.

“Andromeda, that’s fantastic!” he continued. “I am ever so pleased, all the more reason to celebrate.”

Andromeda raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Celebrate what?” Sirius asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as usual.

“I have very happy news,” Cygnus continued. “Very happy, indeed. Andromeda dear, do come and sit by me.”

She did as she was told.

Everyone was looking at Cygnus expectantly.

“I have over the last few days been in serious negotiations with Abraxas Malfoy, and it has all been arranged.”

“What’s been arranged?” Andromeda asked, confusion evident in her face.

“Marriage, my dear. Marriage. You shall marry Lucius Malfoy. Our families will come to be joined once again. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Andromeda went very white. She stood up shakily and stared at her father. She seemed incapable of words, and Sirius thought she looked as if she might be sick.

“Marriage?” she croaked.

“Yes, isn’t that great news,” Cygnus said happily, clearly having not noticed the less than happy expression on his daughter’s face.

“Oh, how splendid,” Mrs. Black said. “How very charming. They shall marry after school, of course?”

“Oh yes,” Cygnus replied. “It will be a July wedding. We have all year to arrange it. They shall both be well qualified upon leaving Hogwarts. There couldn’t be a better timing.”

Andromeda was still white. She held her hand to her throat in what was certainly silent disbelief.

Sirius didn’t understand why she looked this way. The Malfoy’s were one of the most prominent pure-blood families in the country. Surely Andromeda should be pleased. Perhaps she was pleased and didn’t know how to express it.

And sure enough, a second later Andromeda seemed to snap out of her reverie. She nodded her head slowly.

“Yes, Father,” she said softly. “If you wish it.”

Cygnus stood up and threw his arms out wide. “Of course I wish it. What sort of a man would I be if I did not wish the best for my daughters.”

Sirius was surprised to see a few tears trickle out from beneath Andromeda’s eyelashes.

“I’m sorry,” Andromeda said croakily, and wiped away her tears. “I’m just so happy.”

“I knew you would be,” Cygnus said, joyously. “So be sure to look your best for tonight my dear. Remember that Lucius will be there.”

“Yes sir. May I - may I go?”

“Of course.”

Andromeda ran from the room and Sirius heard her thumping up the three landings to her bedroom.

“I am so happy for Andromeda,” Mrs. Black said. “Lucius is a very good investment.”

“Yes, I couldn’t have hoped for better.” He looked down at Narcissa. “You’ll be next, of course.”

“I will?” Narcissa looked excited at the prospect

“Of course. I will need to keep my eye out for a man worthy of your hand.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose at Narcissa’s dreamy expression and could only hope that he wasn’t going to be made to marry some boring aristocrat when he turned seventeen.

Chapter 3: The Corporal Avenger
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Sirius and Regulus had spent a very uneventful day locked up inside the house. They had played three games of Wizard Chess and two games of Dragon Draughts, of which Sirius had won every game, and was now standing in front of his mirror trying to do up his tie. He fumbled clumsily with it for a few minutes, and then threw it to the floor in frustration.

“Oh, for Slytherin’s sake!”

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know how to do up a tie, of course he did, he just wasn’t thinking straight. His mind kept drifting on to the evenings events. He was really looking forward to his Ascension, but now he had a black eye and a swollen lip. Not exactly the impression he wanted to make.

He was fully dressed: smart black trousers; green shirt; and smart black robes. There came a knock on his door and his mother’s voice called. “Sirius? Are you ready?” She walked into his room. Noticing his unruly tie she directed her wand at it which wrapped itself around Sirius’s neck and pulled in tightly.

Sirius gagged as the tie narrowly avoided throttling him.

“That’s better!” Mrs. Black said. “Now, hurry up. Get your shoes on, brush your hair and come downstairs!” She marched out, closing the door sharply behind her.

Ten minutes later, Sirius made his way downstairs.

Regulus was standing in the Entrance Hall talking animatedly with two children Sirius knew very well. “Evan!” Sirius exclaimed, jumping the last few stairs to join his best friend.

Evan grinned at him. He and his twin sister Jadis were the children of an old school friend of Sirius’ father’s.

“Ready for tonight, then?”

“Definitely! You?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been preparing for this all summer.” Evan puffed his stomach out and grinned secretively. “I’m fairly certain I’m going to be named Corporal Avenger. Don’t spread it around, though.”

Sirius was taken aback. He hadn’t expected his best friend to think he had much of a chance, especially not when he was up against him. He felt slightly sorry for Evan, knowing that he would be disappointed when Sirius was awarded the title. He was about to say something, when Jadis approached them. She had long raven black hair which fell below the small of her back, and the palest smooth skin he’d ever seen. Her brother looked relatively like her, except with shorter hair and sharper features. Her lips were pursed tightly together but she gave Sirius a bright smile when she saw him.

“We were just talking about the new headmaster at Hogwarts,” Evan said, indicating to Jadis and Regulus. “My father says he’s ancient, senile almost. Slytherin only knows what the Ministry were thinking, letting some old codger take over the school.”

“Well, the Ministry are idiots themselves, aren’t they?” Sirius said.

“I heard they wanted him for Minister,” Jadis added. “But he turned them down.”

“Why would he do that?” Regulus asked. “What does he want with the school?”

“What does he want with us, you mean,” Jadis said. “Wasn’t he the one that defeated Grindelwald?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” said Evan. “Dubblefore or something.”

“Dumbledore,” Sirius corrected.

“Yeah, whatever. Seems kind of suspicious doesn’t it?”

“Well, what can you expect,” Sirius sneered. “From a blood traitor Muggle lover like him.”

“That is so true,” Jadis replied standing up straighter. “We shouldn’t be forced to learn in such company. They should get their priorities right.”

“I agree,” Sirius said. “Someone should put a stop to it, you know. Bring back the old ways. Overthrow the Ministry. We need a firm hand.”

“Well, that’s what Lord Voldemort is trying to do, isn’t it?” Evan said.

“Who?” Sirius, Regulus and Jadis all stared at him blankly.

“Lord Voldemort,” Evan looked at them all in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of Lord Voldemort.”

“I don’t think so,” Sirius said, straining hard to remember.

“It sounds vaguely familiar,” Jadis said. “Well, who is it then?” she asked her brother.

“He’s some kind of pure-blood wizard who thinks we need to go back to the old ways. He has all these policies and ideas.”

“Like what?” Sirius asked.

Evan shrugged. “Don’t you guys read the news?”

Sirius shook his head. “It’s boring.”

“Not these days. Disappearances are happening every day now. Mostly Mudbloods.”

“I did hear some stuff about that,” Sirius said nodding.

“But no one knows much about him,” Evan continued. “He doesn’t really show his face. His followers are the ones who have been preaching the word.”

“His followers?” Regulus asked eagerly.

“Yeah, the Knights of Walpurgis. We had a few come to our house and talk to dad.”

“We did?” Jadis asked in surprise. “How come you know all this and I don’t?”

“Because you don’t pay attention,” Evan said. “I asked dad about the mysterious wizards that kept coming round and he told me.”

“I like the sound of this,” Sirius said. “At last someone that is prepared to stand up for our rights.”

Jadis nodded. “I just think it’s gross that we have to go to school with them. Have you guys noticed how much Mudbloods stink?”

“It’s their blood,” Evan said. “It’s contaminated. That’s what dad says. I hope we won‘t have to share a dorm room with any. I don‘t want to get a disease.”

“We won’t,” Sirius said. “There’s no way a Mudblood would make Slytherin.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Evan replied. “Sometimes they do.”

“Salazar Slytherin would be appalled!” Jadis exclaimed.

“How do we get sorted anyway?” Sirius asked.

“Some kind of test I think,” Jadis replied. “I think we have to prove our magical ability.”

“That’s easy,” Evan looked pleased. “Just shout out an Unforgivable. Slytherin will be a shoo in.”

“You can do an Unforgiveable?” Sirius gaped, mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“Well, no,” Evan admitted. “But I’ve heard dad use one before, so I could just say the incantation. It probably won’t work but it should be good enough.”

“You’d better hope it doesn’t work,” Jadis said seriously. “Unforgiveables are illegal. You’d probably be expelled.”

“Jay, I was kidding,” Evan said, rolling his eyes.

Sirius chuckled.

“Everyone ready? We’d best be off.” Mr. Rosier walked out from the dining room with Mrs. Black beside him. “Good day, Master Sirius. Master Regulus.” He nodded at them politely. “Let us get going then.”

The children took their parents hands and turned on the spot. 


 





They arrived in Upton Park, an area in London which Sirius had come accustomed to as the place where Avenger meetings were held. They walked together into the rundown looking building, which opened up into a large hall, lined with floating candles and velvet drapes. Seats had been conjured to face the stage, where a large podium had been erected. Sirius felt shivers of excitement ripple down his arms.

“Ah, young Master Black. A pleasure to see you again.”

Sirius looked up. Abraxas Malfoy stood with his wife, Ursula, and son, Lucius.

“Hello, sir,” Sirius greeted and shook their hands.

“Where is your father?” Mr. Malfoy demanded before Sirius could say anything else.

“I am here, Abraxas.” Mr. Black walked forward, from where he had been exchanging words with some other friends, his hand outstretched. “So good to see you. And my dear Ursula, you look wonderful. Ah, yes, and Master Lucius. I hear you have been made Head Boy, how marvellous.”

Lucius nodded stiffly and then glanced down at Sirius, a sneer evident on his lips. Sirius scowled at him. He’d never liked Lucius very much.

Evan pulled Sirius to the side and whispered, “I can’t stand that Lucius. He always looks down on me like I’m just some little kid.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sirius said. “And guess what, he’s marrying Andromeda.”

“He’s marrying Andromeda?” Jadis echoed. “That’s pretty big news.”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded.

The hall was filling up fast and the children easily spotted some of their friends and hurried over to join them. “Tortilis!” Evan hailed one of their friends, Tortilis Wilkes, who walked over to join them. He was a skinny boy with red hair and lots of freckles, and was always sporting a scowl on his face. He never really had very much to say and Sirius had never really liked him much.

“Did you have a good summer?” Evan asked.

“Was all right.”

“Did you get your Hogwarts letter?”

“’Course.”

“Us too. Exciting, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

“Hey, look, it’s about to start. We should take our seats,” Sirius said, and they headed over to the seats that had been prepared for them in the front row. Jadis joined them, her best friend, Jezebel Bathory, beside her. Regulus had left them to go and sit with his own age group.

Within minutes the candles had dimmed and the Leader of the Avengers stepped toward the podium. “Witches and wizards, I thank you for being here tonight,” he began. “As you all know, the Avengers was founded five years ago, as an attempt to train and hone the minds of our young witches and wizards of pure ancestry. To bring together the children of those who are worthy and teach them the true ways of the Wizard world. There has been a succession of brain-washed teachings in Hogwarts School for many years now, and no longer are we prepared to stand back and watch our youngsters lose all sense of who they are and where they come from. We have taken it upon ourselves to fight this ongoing mass of modern thinking, and we thank you all for your overwhelming support. None of what we have achieved would have been possible without the tremendous monetary and political help that you have given us.” He looked at everyone meaningfully. “I am sure the majority of you are aware that we have been campaigning for many months now for a credible new Headmaster at Hogwarts School. We held a strong resistance but I am afraid that, as you all surely know by now, we have lost. Renowned Blood-traitor and former Transfiguration teacher, Albus Dumbledore, accepted this esteemed position back in the month of May.”

Many murmurings broke out in the audience. The speaker stepped forward holding his hand up for silence. “This is upsetting news for most of us, but it is important to note that it does not end here. Our fight for Truth will continue until the last pure-blood wizard remains on this land. We are not prepared to sit back and watch our children fall prey to the disease of this country. We will continue to fight.” He cleared his throat. “In many ways this is why we are here tonight. In less than two weeks many of our boys and girls will be starting their first year at Hogwarts School. These children, whom we have held and loved and taught for eleven years will be taken from us and sent out to fend for themselves in this corrupt world. This is a scary thought and may be hard to accept, but that is why you have all spent so much of your time and energy in teaching your children, so that they will not succumb to the filth these Blood-traitors preach, but that they will be equipped to fight against the mind washing that will no doubt be inflicted upon them.

“Therefore tonight we celebrate the Ascension of our eleven-year-old boys and girls who have done phenomenal jobs training as Avengers, and who I am confident to say will make you all very proud. I would like to say that I am proud of all of you for the courage you have displayed in working towards a new beginning. You are, after all, the Leaders of Tomorrow. Remember to believe in yourselves and trust your instincts. Can everyone please put their hands together and give it up for the Avengers, Troupe of 1971!”

Loud applause broke out in the Auditorium and Sirius grinned excitedly to his friends. “And now without further a due I will announce the winner of the Corporal Avenger award,” the speaker said, allowing the cheers to quiet down. “Every year there is a child who displays the most promise, the most courage. A child who simply excels in everything we set for him or her to do and who truly sums up what we stand for. This is a child whom we would expect to grow up to do great things for this country. It is truly a tremendous honour, and every pure-blood child’s dream. This year the Corporal Avenger award goes to –“

Evan looked at Sirius and winked, but Sirius secretly had his fingers crossed tightly for luck.

“– Sirius Black.”

“Sirius!” Evan glared at his friend who paid no notice to him at all. There were stars in his eyes. Great cheers sounded throughout the auditorium.

“Come on up son and get your award.”

Sirius ran up onto the stage and allowed the Leader of the Avengers to pin an official looking badge onto the front of his robes.

Sirius smiled brightly and took to striking a pose as great camera flashes went off before him.

 

 







“This is delicious!” Mrs. Malfoy exclaimed. “Walburga, you simply must tell me the recipe.”

Dinner at the Black House that night was a joyous affair. Mr. and Mrs. Black had been so happy at their son’s achievement that they had invited some friends over on the spur of the moment.

Walburga smiled brightly. “I’m glad you like it,” she said. “It was terribly hard to get the ingredients.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because its centaur meat, of course.”

Mrs. Malfoy nodded in understanding. “Didn’t the Ministry ban the consumption of centaur meat?”

“Yes, that is correct,” Walburga shook her head sadly. “They seem determined to ban all of life’s delicacies.”

“How did you manage to buy this, then?” Mrs. Malfoy asked.

“On the Black Market; there is a good trade in Knockturn Alley. You can buy anything by them. Of course it costs a bit, but it’s always worth it.”

“What else do they sell?”

“Oh, everything: seers’ eyes and Muggle tongue. Very expensive though.”

“You must give me more details on them later.”

“Oh, yes, I will. Just remind me before you leave.”

Sirius was digging into his plate of food and enjoying every mouthful. Not only was this one of his favourite dishes but he was in such a good mood after winning the Corporal Avenger award that anything probably would have tasted good at that moment.

“Lucius will be joining up of course, as soon as he leaves Hogwarts.”

Sirius looked over to where the men were deep in conversation.

“Join up with what?” he asked.

His father looked annoyed, but Mr. Rosier smiled at him. “With the Knights of Walpurgis,” he said.

“With that Lord Voldemort guy?” Sirius asked.

“That’s right,” said Lucius smugly, “I intend to join up as soon as I finish school.”

“Are you joining up as well, Andy?” Regulus asked.

Before Andromeda could answer for herself, Lucius broke in. “Of course she will, won’t you Andy. We’ll sign up together as soon as we’re married.”

Sirius thought he saw a flash of indignation cross Andromeda’s face, but a second later it had been replaced by a big smile.

“That’s my girl,” Uncle Cygnus said joyfully. “I’d join up myself if I wasn’t getting on in years. But you….” he looked around at the children, “… you’re the future of this country… it will be you who will fight to bring back the old ways.”

“I want to join up, too,” Jadis announced. “Do you have to finish school first?”

Cygnus chuckled. “I do not believe so. Bella already joined up of course and I’m not even sure she bothered to wait until she finished at Hogwarts from what I can remember, she was so keen.”

“No, you don’t have to finish school first,” Abraxas said. “But that’s pretty much what the Avengers is here for. To build you up before you join the big boys.”

“Well, that’s over now. We’ve Ascended.” Sirius said.

“Yes, but I do believe you need to be sixteen until you can join the ranks,” Mr. Rosier said. “You kids just need to concentrate on your studies for the time being.”

“But I want to fight for my country!” Jadis said passionately. “All the Muggle scum and Mudbloods! They’re destroying everything we worked so hard to build! They’ve already destroyed everything! They should be exterminated!”

Abraxas laughed. “You’ve got a feisty daughter there, Adriano.”

Mr. Rosier shook his head slightly and sighed. “Jay, I understand you,” he said. “But there will be plenty of time in the future to join the cause.”

“Is it successful?” Sirius asked.

“Is what successful?” Mr. Rosier asked him.

“What this voldy guy is trying to do. Purifying the race? Is it working?”

“Sirius!” his father snapped at him. “His name is Lord Voldemort! What have I told you about showing respect towards your superiors?”

“Well, yes, Sirius,” Uncle Cygnus said in answer to Sirius’ question. “I do believe they are very successful in getting the message across to as many pure-blood wizards as they can. Their ranks are indeed growing.”

“But you haven’t signed up?”

“No, like I said, I am getting too old to be of much help.”

“But you aren’t that old. Isn’t Dumbledore much older than you?”

Silence rang throughout the room.

“What did you say?” his father asked venomously.

“Errr…” Sirius looked at them blankly.

“Do not speak of that man at my table!”

Sirius was confused. “I only meant…”

“Don’t speak of things you do not understand!” his father snapped. “Dumbledore is a filthy, disgusting blood traitor and is not worth our attention!”

“I agree,” Sirius said hastily. “But he is going to be my headmaster, isn’t he?”

“Unfortunately,” Mr. Black said bitterly. “Stupid old fool. If Lord Voldemort is going to be ridding the world of Muggles and Mudbloods, he should take out the blood traitors as well. They’re just as bad.”

“Here, here,” Cygnus said, raising his glass in agreement.

Mr. Rosier nodded. “Yes, Dumbledore and those Weasley’s, and the Potter’s too, of course.”

“The Potter’s!” Abraxas’ eyes flashed. “Trash, that’s what they are!”

“Who are the Potter’s?” Evan asked.

“Blood traitors of the highest order,” Mrs. Black said. “That family has been causing trouble for centuries! It is because of them that Mudbloods have equal rights to us. And it was them that blocked my dear cousin Araminta from passing through a Ministry bill to legalise Muggle hunting. Despicable creatures, they are!”

“I ran into Julius Potter at the Ministry the other day,” Abraxas said. “He was obviously up to something, but he wouldn’t tell me what. He’s been hanging around too much lately for my liking. Filth like him should just keep out of it!”

“What business would he have at the Ministry?” Mr. Rosier said in surprise. “He’s long since retired.”

“He‘s probably just trying to sort out the Ministry,” Mr. Malfoy said. “You know what the Potter’s are like. They can never keep from sticking their noses into things that don’t concern them!”

“Perhaps he is trying to run for Minister for Magic,” Cygnus said jokingly.

“I don’t see why we need a Minister at all,” Mr. Black said. “Why not just drop all this government and democracy rubbish and just have a leader. Someone who can turn this world around and give us back our freedom!”

“Like Lord Voldemort,” Sirius said.

“Exactly!” Mr. Rosier said. “I am in total agreement. Why not stop this foolish running around and just give all powers to Lord Voldemort. Everyone knows he’ll get what he wants eventually. They should just skip the middle and get right to the end.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Abraxas raised his glass. Everyone around the table raised their glasses too. Sirius lifted his glass of wine and held it out in front of him.

“To Lord Voldemort,” Mr. Malfoy said.

“To Lord Voldemort,” everyone repeated.

“And may he succeed in all his noble endeavours, to bring balance and prosperity to the Wizarding World. To eradicate all those who are not worthy to live alongside true sorcerers!”

“Here, here.”

All around the table, they drank their glasses dry. 
 



A/N: Hiya everyone. It’s been a bit of a gap between posting and such but hopefully I will manage to start posting more frequently now. I recently moved out of Oxford to the East Midlands so a lot has been going on – but yay, I’m so glad to be out of the city. Well here is my next chapter: if you have any questions please either message me or comment via the reviews panel. Thanks a lot guys. 

Hugs, Lily xxx
 


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