November 12 th , 1981
Under normal circumstances, she would savour the bouquet of the
wine she was sipping, but as it had these past few years, the usually
sweet vintage left a bitter taste in her mouth.
In truth, Cassiopeia didn't know why she continued to indulge.
Perhaps she hoped that it would dull the heartbreak and pain of
watching from afar the demise of her family.
Maybe it had just become habit to seek solace in the bottom of a
glass that would never be empty.
Regardless, she drank, and though it brought her nothing of what
she sought, she had nothing else.
As Voldemort rose, her family had fallen, many becoming puppets
who had their strings cut, and others simply unable to weather the
storms that life brought.
Cassiopeia was still here, however, without purpose, an existence
she had endured for more decades than she cared to count.
She had grown old over the passing years, her once luxurious, dark
hair now marred with grey and the wrinkles around her eyes growing
only deeper.
Still, she was alive.
Even if she couldn't fathom why, she yet breathed whilst all others
she held dear had perished.
She took another sip of wine to swallow the painful lump that had
formed in her throat.
Cygnus and Druella had been the first to go.
From what little she had heard of their fates, they had died in service
to Voldemort, as had Regulus early in the conflict.
The boy had been too keen to please his mother who had also died,
though Cassiopeia knew no more details than that.
A simple check of her own copy of the family tapestry had confirmed
it.
Orion too was gone, and once more, Cassiopeia didn't know the
circumstances surrounding his passing.
Andromeda had left the family years ago and married a mudblood,
and Narcissa had been married off to a spawn of a Malfoy.
What Cygnus was thinking allowing that, Cassiopeia didn't know, but
the man had never been especially bright.
Dorea, her sweet, strong-willed sister had died from Dragonpox, and
according to Arcturus, Charlus had followed soon after.
Cassiopeia didn't know the man so well other than for his part in the
war on the continent, but he had a reputation for being an
exceedingly gifted wizard.
Arcturus had suspected, and Cassiopeia agreed, that the man had
died from a broken heart.
Despite her feelings about him, Cassiopeia couldn't deny the love
Charlus had for Dorea.
Bellatrix had joined the Dark Lord but had been captured after
attacking the Longbottoms with her own foolish husband and his
brother.
The woman would never see the light of day again.
Arcturus had died during the conflict, likely from a mixture of despair
and disappointment at what had become of their once great family.
The man had been too lax as their lord, had allowed the family too
many liberties, in Cassiopeia's opinion.
Still, there was nothing to be done about it now.
He was dead.
Most of them were or no longer carried the family name.
The biggest surprise out of them all was what she had just learned
about her great nephew and was the reason Cassiopeia found
herself hosting the man who had introduced himself as the family
solicitor.
"Would you mind repeating yourself, Mr Moon?" Cassiopeia
requested.
Moon nodded.
"Sirius has been sent to Azkaban for the murder of twelve muggles
and a wizard named Peter Pettigrew."
Cassiopeia frowned.
The name Pettigrew was not familiar to her, but she was taken aback
by the revelation that Sirius had proven himself more of a Black than
any other in several generations.
"Are you sure of this?"
Moon nodded.
"There are several witnesses who saw what he did," Moon
explained.
Cassiopeia released a deep breath as she placed her glass on the
table.
"I am flabbergasted," she admitted. "Sirius never seemed the type,
but I do not see how this is any concern of mine."
Moon rubbed his eyes tiredly.
Evidently, he'd had a long, stressful day.
"Usually, I would not interfere, but I liked and respected your
brother," he sighed. "Arcturus was concerned about the succession,
and only took comfort in his last days knowing that Sirius would
replace him as the Lord Black."
Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"The last I heard; he was cast out of the family."
"Not officially," Moon explained. "Arcturus never ratified the request."
Cassiopeia snorted amusedly.
That would have displeased Walburga if she was still alive.
"So, he is the new Lord Black?"
Moon shook his head.
"He is a known murderer and will either spend the rest of his days in
Azkaban or be executed. Had he formally accepted his title, he
would be the Lord until his eventual death, but he did no such thing."
"So, that means what exactly?"
"That the title will immediately pass on to the next eligible male from
the Black line. In this case, it would usually be Lady Malfoy's son,
Draco."
"Usually?" Cassiopeia asked suspiciously.
Moon swallowed deeply as he nodded.
"There is a complication, and that is why I am here."
"A complication?"
Moon released a laboured breath as he shook his head.
"Sirius, as the heir, created a will only a few months ago," he
explained. "He left everything to his godson."
"Including the title of Lord Black?" Cassiopeia asked confusedly.
"Unintentionally, I believe," Moon murmured. "Sirius believed that he
had been cast out."
"Even though he hadn't," Cassiopeia mused aloud. "I still don't
understand how this complicates things. No one other than a Black
can inherit the title."
"Correct," Moon confirmed, "but Sirius's godson is a Black by blood.
The boy in question is none other than Harry James Potter, son of
James Potter…"
"Son of Dorea Black," Cassiopeia whispered sadly.
She had never gotten to know her nephew, but what she had heard
was that the boy had been quite the pain at school.
Harry Potter was a name that had only become familiar to her over
the past week, the stories she heard from the Greek locals whilst she
was out buying wine as fantastical as anything she'd ever heard.
According to the rumours, the babe had killed Voldemort, and had
even survived the killing curse.
Hogwash, as far as Cassiopeia was concerned.
No one survived the curse, and babies did not vanquish Dark Lords.
Moon nodded, pulling her from her thoughts.
"Son of Dorea," he confirmed, his own tone matching Cassiopeia's.
"So, he will be the next Lord Black?" she asked hopefully.
Anyone else would better than the family name being absorbed into
the Malfoys.
"It seems that way, but that is not the end of the complications."
"Why does that not surprise me," Cassiopeia huffed irritably.
Moon chuckled as he slid a pile of parchment towards Cassiopeia.
"This is the marriage contract your brother and Charlus Potter signed
for Dorea's hand."
"Really?" Cassiopeia asked interestedly as she picked up the hefty
document.
"Most of it is innocuous enough," Moon explained, "but the part that
should interest you is the part I have highlighted."
Cassiopeia frowned at the document until she found the page that
had a green circle drawn around a section of text.
At the request of both parties, should either family find themselves in
a position where they are unable to provide suitable care and
upbringing for an heir befitting their station, that care will, without
prejudice, revert to the other family to ensure suitable preparation for
future responsibilities. This is to coincide with the second term of this
agreement, and in addendum to that, the heir should be educated in
the traditions and practices of their primary paternal family.
That was quite the addition to a marriage contract, and Arcturus had
once more, though unwittingly, proven his brilliance.
"So, does that mean that James's son's claim is stronger than that of
the Malfoy boy?"
Moon smirked this time as he nodded.
"Harry James Potter was not only named Sirius's sole heir, but he
fulfils the criteria of being a Black. He has as much Black blood as
he does Potter."
"But the boy is a mudblood," Cassiopeia pointed out.
Moon grimaced at her rebuke.
It was common knowledge that James Potter married a muggleborn.
"True," he conceded, "but does that matter? Your family is done,
Miss Black. It is now your choice whether or not it falls into the hands
of the Malfoys, or to your sister's grandson. I know what Arcturus
would prefer, and that is why I am here."
Moon wasn't mincing his words, and Cassiopeia respected that
about the man.
"Read the section of the contract again, really read it," he urged.
Cassiopeia did so, and the reality of what the man was trying to do
set in.
"You want me to raise the boy?" she choked in disbelief.
"Yes, and Arcturus would ask the same of you if he was here," Moon
pointed out. "The boy is already famous. He defeated a Dark Lord.
Think of the potential he must have and think of your brother. He
would be heartbroken to know his legacy was going to be
squandered. At least this way, you can shape the boy and your
family would be put to rest in one that is respectable, one that Dorea
married so wholeheartedly in to."
Cassiopeia deflated as another thought crossed her mind, one that
should have come before her first observation.
"Does that mean James and his wife are dead?"
Moon nodded solemnly.
"Voldemort killed them," he confirmed. "From what little I know, he
then turned his wand on the boy, but his killing curse backfired and
killed him instead."
"How?"
Moon shrugged.
"I don't know."
Cassiopeia swallowed deeply.
Dorea would be devastated that her boy had died so young, but if he
was anything like Charlus, James Potter would have died defending
his wife and son.
"Who has the boy?"
"Albus took him into custody for his protection," Moon explained.
"The Death Eaters are still out there, and he fears they will look for
him."
Cassiopeia's nostrils flared at the mention of the man.
"What has Dumbledore got to do with it?" she growled.
"Who knows," Moon sighed, "but he made it very public he is the one
caring for the boy. Without Voldemort, I doubt anyone would attempt
to attack the boy if he is with him."
Cassiopeia conceded the point with a nod.
"I don't get it," she mumbled. "Surely he can't raise the boy. He has a
school to run. He shouldn't be raising the boy anyway."
"No. he shouldn't," Moon agreed. "The wishes of the family were that
he is raised by a Black, according to the contract at least," he added,
tapping the document with a finger.
Cassiopeia smirked.
Moon was not a foolish man and knew exactly what he was doing.
He disliked the Malfoys as much as he did Dumbledore, but his heart
was in the right place.
He had been Arcturus's confidant for years when it came to the legal
matters of the family, and both men considered the other a close
friend.
"No, I have no idea how to raise a child," she huffed.
"You have an elf," Moon pointed out. "He can take care of the early
years, and you can take over when he is old enough to learn what he
needs. He will be an influential wizard, Cassiopeia, merely for what
happened between him and the Dark Lord."
Cassiopeia worried her lower lip as she pondered what Arcturus and
Dorea would want.
The former would inform her of her responsibility as a daughter of
house Black pertaining to the contract he had signed with Charlus,
and the latter would ask her to for no other reason that the boy was
her great nephew.
Cassiopeia cursed her siblings under her breath.
Despite everything that had happened throughout her life, she
couldn't shirk her duty and she could not allow Dorea's grandson to
be raised by any other whilst she lived.
How she would cope, she knew not, but it seemed that she now had
a purpose in life, a reason to live for.
Besides, this was the perfect opportunity to exact some revenge on
Dumbledore and irk the Malfoys in one fell swoop.
She'd never had much to do with children, but it seemed that she
would soon become familiar with having one around.
"I'll do it," she said in little more than a whisper.
Moon grinned before standing.
"They'd be so grateful, Cassiopeia," he said sincerely. "Leave it with
me, and I will begin the process. It may take a few weeks, but I have
no doubt that we will be successful in this endeavour."
With that, Moon swept from the room, and Cassiopeia immediately
began to regret her decision.
What was she thinking?
She didn't know the first thing about raising a baby, but she knew an
elf that did.
If Harry Potter truly was the heir of the Black family, and she was his
legal guardian, he would answer her call.
"Elgar?"
With a loud crack, the elf Arcturus had employed when he left
Grimmauld Place so many years ago appeared before her.
"Miss Black," he greeted her with a low bow.
"It seems that we will soon have a guest. Can you see to it that we
have everything we could possibly need for a future Lord Black?"
The elf smiled sadly as he nodded.
"Elgar will see to it at once, Miss."
He vanished with another crack, and Cassiopeia picked up her glass
of wine, noticing that some of the sweetness she enjoyed had
returned with her next sip.
Albus exited the pensieve having reviewed the memory for what
must have been the hundredth time since he had walked into the
Potter residence in Godric's Hollow.
No matter how often he reviewed it, what had occurred did not make
sense to him.
He was dealing with magic that was unprecedented, after all,
however, he had hoped to grasp a semblance of understanding.
James and Lily were dead, that was an undeniable fact, and Harry
was alive, a peculiar but no less truth of what had happened.
Tom.
Although there had been an unmistakeable permeation of death,
dark magic, and despair, no body of the man had been discovered.
Albus had no doubt that Tom had been physically destroyed by the
magical backlash, and that Harry had somehow indeed survived the
killing curse.
The essence of sacrificial magic belonging to Lily Potter that hung
over the darkness was more than enough for Albus to deduce what
had happened.
Still, there was still very much something of Tom within the room, not
dead but not quite alive, and despite his best efforts, Albus realised
he was out of his depth.
It would take time to discover just what had happened, but for now,
Harry was safe and that was all that mattered.
The boy would grow without the burden of fame and the death of his
parents hanging over him.
He should be granted a snatch of innocence before he came to
Hogwarts in a little less than a decade.
Housing him with Petunia also meant that Albus could watch him
closely to ensure that the magic he had been subjected to at such a
vulnerable age would not prove to be detrimental in any way.
It was a concern of the headmaster, and he hoped beyond hope that
it wouldn't be so, but such a dark unknown was worrying to say the
least.
No, Harry would be better off with his aunt, unburdened and allowed
to enjoy something of a childhood.
The world would one day look to him, more so than they did Albus
after he had defeated Gellert and expect young Harry to continue
being their saviour.
Albus pitied the boy.
He would one day be pulled from pillar to post by those that would
wish to use him for their own gain, and Albus knew not what to do.
It was difficult to decide what was worse; the vultures that would
come, or the monsters that lay in wait.
Even now, Harry Potter had enemies, dangerous ones that would do
all they could to get their revenge against him.
The war was being lost, but the babe had changed that.
Tom's followers were being round up, but Albus was under no illusion
that they would all be caught, and in truth, he was not even
convinced that Tom Riddle was dead.
Baby Harry's room may have reeked of it, but there was more life
than death, two contradictories painting a bleak future for a boy who
did not know just how special he would one day be.
' Neither can live whilst the other survives.'
The words that had been spoke to him, as ominous and poignant as
they were, sent a shiver down his spine.
No, Albus could not yet explain what had happened in Godric's
Hollow, but he did not believe that it was the end.
If anything, this was only the beginning.
November 15 th , 1981
It had been many years since Cassiopeia had been in Britain, but
now felt compelled to return. Perhaps she wanted to understand just
how devastating the war had been for the country, or she was
curious to experience the mood for herself.
Regardless, she was here now, and neither Diagon Alley nor
Knockturn Alley had changed much.
Most of the establishments she had visited during her teenage years
could still be found in the former, and though the names had
changed over the years, Cassiopeia quickly discovered the shops in
the latter were owned by the same shady characters, for the most
part.
It was not the shops that she was interested in, however.
Cassiopeia found herself in a rather seedy pub she had visited once
or twice in the past, nursing a glass of whiskey, her disguised
features hidden beneath a robe.
She was no more out of place than any other person here, and she
listened to the nearby conversations.
The furore of Voldemort's downfall had slowly ebbed away, and now,
it was those that had supported him that were left to pick up the
pieces of what remained of their lives, if they could avoid being
arrested by the aurors.
"You're joking!" a voice hissed a few tables away. "Crouch's own
son?"
Cassiopeia frowned as she sipped her drink.
"Karkaroff dropped him in it apparently," the man's companion
informed him. "Old Barty arrested him on the spot."
"His own son," the other murmured. "He'll have to resign to save
face. Can't have a head of department with that blemish."
"It doesn't look good, does it? Just imagine what information the boy
could have passed on over the years."
"No wonder he was so successful. Still, he's gone now, and the less
we talk about him the better."
The two men fell silent, and Cassiopeia pondered just how far
Voldemort's influence had reached.
If the son of the head of the Department of Magical Law
Enforcement had been involved with him, then it couldn't have
stretched much further.
"Are they still looking for the boy?" one of the men asked.
The other looked around to ensure they weren't being overheard and
nodded.
"Not that they will manage much," he snorted before draining his
glass. "Not until he is older and away from Dumbledore."
"The Dark Lord will be forgotten by then."
"No, not whilst there are those that remain loyal," the second man
countered. "There was no body, and most of his followers believe he
is still alive. That's why the Lestranges went after the Longbottoms
apparently, well, that's what Lucius told me before he was taken in."
"Well, if he is alive, he will be back."
"And I will be ready."
"What will you do now?"
The second man stood, and Cassiopeia realised how enormous he
was.
With fingernails like claws, and his face illuminated by the dim light,
she finally recognised him.
"I'm taking my pack to the continent," Fenrir Greyback announced.
"They need to be fed," he added with a raspy chuckle.
Clapping his companion firmly on the shoulder, he left the bar, and
Cassiopeia followed a moment later.
The infamous werewolf was gone, but she had heard enough.
Despite what was believed to have happened to Voldemort, Harry
Potter still had enemies here, and if the Dark Lord was indeed alive,
the boy was in more danger than he could comprehend.
Regardless of where Dumbledore was keeping him, Harry was not
safe, and with the buffoon in charge of his care, he would be illprepared
for what the future held for him.
Releasing a deep breath, Cassiopeia activated her portkey and was
whisked away from Britain, a place where war may no longer be
ravaging the country, but a conflict that was seemingly far from
finished lurked on the horizon, her thoughts focused on the task
ahead of her.
She was still not sold on the idea of raising the boy, but he was
family, and though Cassiopeia had no clue what she was doing, she
had to try, for those she had already lost.
November 19 th , 1981
Life in Britain seemed to be finally settling down with the Death Eater
trials finally underway, and Albus couldn't be more grateful for it,
though it appeared that there would be little consequence for those
that had supported Tom in his endeavours.
Already, many prominent lords and ladies that had found themselves
embroiled in the pureblood movement were claiming that they were
not acting of their own accord, and much to Albus's dismay, Millicent
seemed to be buying into it.
Whether she genuinely believed it or not was irrelevant. What
mattered was that she would likely accept what was being said, if
only to put an end to the unpleasantness Britain had endured these
past years.
Albus sighed as he shook his head.
Only today, an unusually bedraggled Lucius Malfoy had all but
begged for forgiveness on his hands and knees, promising to pay
charitable restitutions for his 'unwitting' participation.
Albus, among many others, were not falling for the theatrics, but the
Minister and others had.
The man had escaped a stint in Azkaban by the skin of his teeth.
Lord Doge had even gone as far to suggest the use of Veritaserum,
but that idea had been dismissed.
Lucius's lawyer, another who had likely supported Tom had pointed
out that the Lord Malfoy's mind was vulnerable from his time under
the Imperius Curse and that the use of such a potion could be
dangerous.
Having consulted several healers on the matter, they had agreed
with the assessment, meaning that Lucius, and any other claiming
they were not acting wilfully would be spared.
Coincidentally, many others were scheduled to be represented by
the same man, and Albus had no doubt that they too would get away
with their crimes.
It left the headmaster feeling disappointed in the justice system, and
the Minister for being so forgiving.
Albus believed in second chances for the most part, but there was
never an excuse for what atrocities the Death Eaters had committed,
and many would be allowed to walk free and continue to live
amongst them as though nothing had happened.
He was pulled from his maudlin thoughts as the fire flared into life,
and the head of one of his least favourite people appeared before
him.
"Millicent," Albus greeted the Minister tightly. "How may I help you?"
The woman was tired.
The war had taken its toll on her, and Albus knew she wouldn't be in
office much longer.
"I think you had best come through, Albus," the minister sighed
deeply. "Something has been brought to my attention that will
concern you."
"That sounds rather ominous," Albus mused aloud. "What is it?"
Millicent nodded.
"I don't think it is wise to discuss it here," she said pointedly. "Come
through."
With that, the woman's head vanished but the flames remained a
flickering, emerald, green where she had left the connection open.
With a shake of his head, Albus stood and approached the fireplace,
wondering what could be so important that it couldn't wait until the
morning.
Stepping through, he entered an office that was usually as well
organised as the woman it belonged to; however, the room was
untidy.
Stacks of parchment were piled on the desk and floor.
"Are these all upcoming trials?" Albus asked.
Millicent nodded.
"They are," she confirmed, "and everything else pertaining to the war
from start to finish, but I didn't ask you here to witness my misery.
Take a seat and read this," she urged, sliding a folder towards him.
Albus opened it and frowned.
"That was given to me an hour ago by Ambrosius Moon," Millicent
explained.
"A formal notification of the intent to house Harry James Potter with
his legally recognised guardian," Albus read aloud.
The more he read of the document, the deeper his heart sunk into
his very core, and when he read whom had signed the declaration,
his blood felt as though it had frozen in his veins.
"Cassiopeia Black."
The woman had not been seen nor heard of in decades in wizarding
Britain.
Just what she was playing at, Albus knew not, but this wasn't good.
How she believed she had any claim to guardianship was baffling,
but Cassiopeia Black was nothing if not ruthless and thorough.
Albus remembered her as a girl when she had passed through
Hogwarts, but even more so for her association with Gellert.
She had been his most ardent supporter, and when he had been
defeated, the woman had vanished into obscurity.
Until now.
"What did Ambrosius say?"
"That he would be returning with Miss Black shortly, and that he
would prefer for this to be dealt with quietly, and out of the public
sphere."
"She's coming here?" Albus asked worriedly.
Millicent nodded.
"That is what Moon said," she reiterated. "What would she want with
the Potter boy?"
Albus couldn't even begin to imagine her reasoning, but Cassiopeia
Black never did anything without purpose.
She had been quite the brilliant witch, but a misguided one in her
youth.
A Black through and through.
"We can't allow this," Albus said firmly.
"We will not," Millicent assured him, "but we must tread carefully with
her."
Albus nodded his agreement as a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Millicent called, sitting straighter in her chair.
Albus recognised Ambrosius Moon immediately.
He was perhaps the best wizarding lawyer in Britain, the very reason
the Blacks paid him handsomely for his services.
The lady that entered behind him was aged but appeared
considerably younger than the years she had lived.
Cassiopeia Black retained much of the beauty the Blacks were
known for, and there was no questioning her sharpness.
Her grey eyes were as lit with intelligence as they had been in her
formative years, and though she glared grudgingly at Albus, she said
nothing.
"I must say that I am taken aback by this," Millicent began, retrieving
the declaration from the desk and holding it aloft.
"What is there to be taken aback by?" Ambrosius questioned. "The
form is quite simple, is it not?"
Millicent's nostrils flared at his mocking tone, and Albus intervened to
prevent the already delicate situation deteriorating any further.
"I'm afraid I do not understand your reasoning," he broke in. "Surely
you have heard of the circumstances surrounding Sirius and what he
has done?"
Albus had not believed the young man would betray James and Lily
in such a way, but there was no denying the evidence of those that
had witnessed what had transpired.
Sirius had not helped himself with his own admission that he was to
blame for the death of the Potters, and his mad ramblings had seen
him sent to Azkaban on a dozen counts of murder.
The man, by all accounts, was quite insane, the madness that
famously plagued his family having infected him also.
Perhaps it was the months living in isolation in such trying times that
had done it, but Sirius Black had indeed cracked.
"I know what the boy did," Cassiopeia snapped irritably, "but I am not
here to discuss Sirius. My only interest is in my great nephew."
Albus leaned back in his chair.
Even he had forgotten that Harry was in fact related so closely to the
Blacks, but if this was the only justification Cassiopeia had for
claiming guardianship, she would be leaving disappointed.
"He is your great nephew," Albus acknowledged, "but that does not
give you guardianship, not when Harry has closer relatives than
yourself."
Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at him, but it was Moon that spoke
next.
"Unless you have magicked another Potter out of thin air, then you
may want to read this," he suggested, removing a thick document
from within his briefcase and handing it to Albus.
"A marriage contract between Charlus Potter and Arcturus Black,"
the headmaster murmured.
"Read the circled section," Cassiopeia instructed, grinning gleefully.
"At the request of both parties, should either family find themselves
in a position where they are unable to provide suitable care and
upbringing for an heir befitting their station, that care will, without
prejudice, revert to the other family to ensure suitable preparation for
future responsibilities. This is to coincide with the second term of this
agreement, and in addendum to that, the heir should be educated in
the traditions and practices of their primary paternal family."
Albus leaned back in his chair.
The contract was signed by William Potter, but that did not mean all
was lost.
Albus could use Harry's unfortunate circumstances to his advantage.
"I will personally educate Harry to prepare him for his eventual
responsibilities," he declared.
"Is that so?" Cassiopeia questioned, raising a delicate brow. "Moon."
The man handed Albus another document, and the headmaster
knew that all was lost.
"Sirius made Harry his heir," he muttered tiredly.
"Which means that the boy must know how to run the Black affairs,"
Cassiopeia pointed out. "Only a Black can teach him that, and those
lessons must begin during childhood. With Harry as the heir to both
families, he will need to be raised by a suitable person, and in this
case, I am the best available."
Albus could not deny that, but that didn't mean he was comforted by
the situation.
"Why?" he asked simply.
"Because with no one else available, it is my duty," Cassiopeia
answered. "The boy is also family, my sister's grandson."
Oddly, her last words seemed to be sincere, something that Albus
had not expected.
"Without Harry, the Black name will disappear into the Malfoy line.
Arcturus would turn in his grave if that happened," Cassiopeia
continued, the harshness in her tone fading the more she spoke.
"Harry Potter may be the last chance for the Black line to continue,
or at the very least, be absorbed into a worthy family."
Albus understood the sentiment the woman held for her name.
The Blacks had once been among the most prominent, a position
that had declined over the past century or so, the last few years
more than ever.
Still, he couldn't give in.
"You do not understand the danger Harry is in," he sighed.
"I understand," Cassiopeia growled. "I have spent time listening to
those that would see the boy harmed for what happened. He has
enemies, and when they can, they will come for him. I do not know
what you have done with the boy, but he will never be safe,
Dumbledore. He must be ready for what he will one day face, and
you do not have the balls to do what is necessary. You couldn't even
bring yourself to kill Gellert!"
Albus could not deny the truth of her words, but he couldn't just pass
Harry off to the woman.
"You think that I would harm him, don't you," Cassiopeia accused. "If
you believe that, then you do not understand our magic. If Sirius
wasn't Orion's heir, Walburga would have throttled him in his sleep. I
could not harm the boy if I wished to. If anything, I would be
compelled to protect him, as I did Arcturus even when we fought on
opposing sides of a war."
Albus eyed the woman questioningly.
The thought of her wanting Harry to harm him, or hand him to
someone who wished to had crossed his mind.
"You may not like it, Dumbledore, but I am the best hope he has to
be prepared for the future, the best option to ensure he is raised
knowing what he needs to and that he is kept safe. Even you
couldn't find me or breach the defences of my home."
Albus rubbed his temples as he felt a headache begin to set in.
"I am here now because I wish to keep this as quiet as possible,"
Cassiopeia huffed. "I could have done this very publicly, and even in
front of the Wizengamot if I wished to. Do you think any of them
would vote against the wishes of two well-respected lords of their
families?"
Albus knew it was unlikely.
The bond between two lords was of paramount importance to the
purebloods.
That was one of the very few things the Wizengamot would agree
unanimously on.
Although every instinct was telling him to not concede, Albus could
see no way out of this, and evidently, neither could the Minister, but
there was still one more test Cassiopeia Black would need to pass
before he was satisfied.
"You will care for him?" he asked.
"As I would for any that has my blood flowing through their veins."
"You will protect him?"
"With my own life, if necessary."
"You will teach him?"
Cassiopeia smirked.
"By the time I am done with him, anyone would be foolish to cross
his path. He will be the best of both of his families."
The declaration sent a shiver down Albus's spine, but not one that
was unsettling.
If anything, it brought a semblance of comfort to the man.
Both families had produced notably strong and intelligent men. With
the ruthlessness and cunning of the Blacks, and the stubbornness
and honour the Potters were renowned for, Harry would indeed be
an influential man, something he already had the makings of from his
incredible feat of magic.
Perhaps it would be best for him to be raised by Cassiopeia Black,
after all, something Albus had not though he would be considering by
the end of the conversation.
Still wary of doing so, he however nodded, conceding to the woman.
He may one day regret the decision and would always have his
reservations, but he truly wanted the best for Harry, and though he
was reluctant to admit, Cassiopeia Black was just that, under the
circumstances.
"Where is he?" the woman asked.
"I will take you to him," Albus declared, curious to see what would
happen when they arrived at the address of Vernon and Petunia
Dursley. "May I use my portkey, Millicent?"
The Minister nodded her consent, and Albus offered his arm to
Cassiopeia as he stood.
With a grimace, the woman took hold of the sleeve of his robes and
Albus removed the phoenix pendant he wore around his neck before
activating the portkey.
"I would have always been on hand if he needed me," he assured
the woman when they arrived at their destination.
Cassiopeia looked around, a deep frown marring her features.
"Muggles?" she hissed. "You would have had him raised by
muggles?"
Albus held up a hand to placate the woman.
"What would you have done?" he returned gently. "Who could I have
trusted with his care?"
Cassiopeia deflated as she pondered the question.
"The people living here are Harry's family, the last that he has," Albus
explained sadly.
"He has me," Cassiopeia said firmly.
Albus watched as she walked towards the house, not truly surprised
that wards did not react to her.
If she meant to harm Harry, the results would have been most
unpleasant for her.
"Are you coming?" the woman asked irritably.
With a nod, the Albus followed, and tapped smartly on the door.
It was nearing nine pm, but the lights were still on, and the door was
answered by a burly man.
"We don't buy or sell here," he said gruffly. "We're not interested in
religion."
"Mr Dursley," Albus greeted him. "We are here to collect young Harry
from you."
The man began to purple, his bushy moustache twitching.
"You're from that lot," he growled accusingly. "I told Petunia to get rid
of the boy, but she wouldn't listen. Said that she'd been threatened."
"Vernon, who is it?" a thin blonde questioned as she came to the
door, cradling a bundle of blankets to her chest.
At the sight of Albus, she paled.
"What do you want?" she whimpered.
"Mrs Dursley, we have come to collect Harry. He will be staying
elsewhere from now on," Albus explained.
The woman swallowed deeply and began sputtering as though she
had been caught doing something she shouldn't.
"Hand him over," Cassiopeia demanded angrily, holding out her
arms.
Petunia held the blankets tighter to her chest.
"This is my son, Dudley," she explained frantically. "The boy is…"
"Is where?" Albus interjected.
Petunia began to tremble, and her eyes darted towards the cupboard
under the stairs.
Not for the first time this evening, Albus felt his heart sink and he
pushed passed the Dursley's.
Opening the door, he was mortified to find Harry sleeping in a
basket, shoved in the cupboard as though he was nothing more than
a vacuum cleaner.
"You put him in a cupboard?" Cassiopeia whispered furiously as she
drew her wand.
Albus intervened, diverting the sickly yellow spell she cast away from
the Dursleys into the wall.
The paint began to bubble and drip to the ground, much to the horror
of the muggles.
"Don't!" Albus said sharply. "The wards will not take kindly to them
being harmed."
Cassiopeia's nostrils flared, but she reigned in her anger in favour of
retrieving Harry.
"He looks like one of us," she commented almost affectionately as
she looked upon him.
Albus nodded.
Harry already had many features shared by the Blacks, but there
was no denying his Potter heritage either.
He looked very much like James but had one defining feature of his
mother.
"Perhaps we should leave," Albus suggested, wishing to avoid any
more unpleasantness.
Cassiopeia nodded but glared at the Dursleys a final time before
exiting the house.
Albus followed suit, and closed the door behind him, horrified at what
kind of life Harry would likely have had here.
Was Petunia so petty to treat her nephew so poorly?
"And you believed he was safe here," Cassiopeia snarked as she
adjusted the sleeping boy in her arms. "I will not forget this, Albus,"
she warned.
Albus deflated as he looked at the woman.
She had no idea what she was letting herself in for, not really.
"The day will come where we will have to discuss many things," he
said sadly, "but they can wait until it is necessary to do so. Raise him
well, Cassiopeia. He will need to be ready for more than you could
hope to know."
Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes at him.
Were she not such a stubborn woman, she may have questioned
Albus further, but instead, she simply nodded.
"He will be ready for anything," she replied confidently before
activating her own portkey.
"I hope you're right," Albus murmured into the night before he too
vanished from Privet Drive.
Moon had been waiting for Cassiopeia to return home, and Harry
had remained asleep since doing so. It had been much than
anticipated to convince Dumbledore to surrender the boy to her, but
Cassiopeia had been left unsettled by the final part of their
conversation.
"May I make a suggestion?" Moon broke into her thoughts.
Cassiopeia nodded and gestured for the man to continue.
"The family affairs will need to be looked after until the boy is old
enough to do so himself, both families."
Cassiopeia frowned thoughtfully.
She didn't have the faintest idea how to fulfil the duties of a head of
house.
"Are you volunteering?"
Moon chuckled as he shook his head.
"No, I am a solicitor, Cassie, I wouldn't know where to begin," he
explained. "I will continue representing the Blacks where required,
and also the Potters if you wish me to."
Cassiopeia nodded gratefully.
"Then who?"
"Well, during the war with Grindelwald, Arcturus placed Lord
Parkinson as his proxy. The man did a more than admirable job in
the position."
"Can he be trusted?"
"I believe so," Moon assured her. "He is a friend of mine and
admitted that he helped fund the pureblood movement but did not
become a follower. Most families did so, whether they will admit it or
not. It was the best way to ensure their safety."
"Do you believe him?"
Moon nodded.
"He is unmarked, and not an evil man, Cassie. I would trust him with
this. He knows what he is doing."
Cassiopeia released a deep breath, not having considered this.
"Bring it up with him," she instructed, "but only the Black side of
things to begin with."
Moon offered her a bow as he stood.
"I will do so tomorrow, quietly, of course. If you have any further need
of me, I will be available."
Cassiopeia nodded gratefully and Moon exited the room, and only a
moment later, the front door closed leaving Cassiopeia cradling a
still-sleeping babe.
"Elgar?" she called.
The elf appeared immediately, his gaze shifting to his new master.
"He is the Lord Black," Elgar confirmed.
"Potter," Cassiopeia corrected. "He is the Lord Black, but he carries
the Potter name."
"Like Master Charlus."
Cassiopeia nodded.
"He is Charlus's grandson."
Elgar smiled fondly.
"Master Charlus was a good man."
Cassiopeia hummed.
She and Charlus had never gotten along.
Her respect for him as a wizard and as her brother-in-law could
never overshadow the fact the man had fought against Gellert.
"Watch him, Elgar," she instructed, handing the elf the bundle of
blankets. "If he wakes, feed him."
"Elgar will protect the Lord Black," the elf assured her proudly.
He would too, and as Cassiopeia took her leave of the house, she
couldn't help but wonder just how different her life would be and what
the future held for the boy she had taken in.
Already, he was unique simply because he would be the lord of two
prominent families, but the circumstances surrounding the fall of
Voldemort made him even more so.
Cassiopeia could not comprehend any kind of magic or power that
would have resulted in such a feat, but there was one person who
just might.
For thirty-six years he had been housed within his own prison, and
for most of that time, Gellert had wished that Albus had killed him. If
there was anything he couldn't stand, it was living a tedious
existence.
Still, things had improved since his initial imprisonment.
He was allowed books and even some small birds to keep him
company.
Of course, he wasn't allowed a wand, but that was for the best.
Gellert still craved power and keeping his means of obtaining it away
from him meant that the world was safe from his more visceral
inclinations.
"Did I miss another sleep?" he asked as he heard footsteps
approaching his cell.
"No, it is just late," Cassiopeia replied as she reached his cell.
Gellert greeted the woman with a smile.
Besides Albus, she had been his only visitor over the years.
"What is bothering you, my dear?" he asked, noting her
uncharacteristic expression of worry.
The explanation he received was not anything Gellert would have
expected in his wildest dreams, but he did not interrupt the woman
as she spoke, allowing her to vent until she was breathless from
doing so.
"The boy is the grandson of Charlus Potter?" Gellert asked
interestedly.
Cassiopeia scowled as she nodded, and Gellert chuckled.
"You still hold a grudge against the man," he sighed. "You hold on to
the past too much, my dear. I have let it go, and so should you."
Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow at him and Gellert shook his head.
"You're certain he survived the killing curse?"
"Dumbledore is."
"Then that is indeed what happened," Gellert mused aloud. "Albus is
not prone to lies or flights of fancy. I don't suppose he was too
pleased that you bested him."
"No, but I don't know what to do, Gellert," Cassiopeia murmured.
"The boy has powerful enemies and will likely have more when
certain people learn of his position."
Gellert nodded thoughtfully.
If the boy was anything like his grandfather, he would be a capable
wizard, and with Cassiopeia raising him, he would be as ruthless as
her brother had been.
Quite the combination indeed, but with so many enemies, and a
potential dark lord still out there somewhere, would it be enough?
If Albus believed this Voldemort was still alive, then Gellert had no
reason to think otherwise.
Cassiopeia had taken on quite the task indeed.
"Did Albus say anything else?"
"Only that there were things that I didn't understand, and that we
would need to discuss them when Harry is older."
Gellert shook his head.
Albus, as ever, was holding back vital information, but Gellert knew
him well enough to know he would not give it up until he was ready
to do so.
"The boy must be prepared for anything," Gellert sighed.
Cassiopeia nodded her agreement.
"I will need your help, Gellert," she almost pleaded.
Gellert reached through the bars and grabbed the woman
comfortingly by the hand.
"You will have it," he assured her.
Cassiopeia Black had remained loyal to him, and the least he could
do was return that loyalty.
Besides, Gellert was very interest to see just what such a boy could
be capable of.
If anything, he was looking forward to it.
"Keep me updated on him, my dear, and when the time is right, I will
help you ensure that there is nothing that he won't be able to face. If
Voldemort comes for him, he will be ready, and if any other chooses
to make an enemy of him, they will regret doing so," he mused
aloud.
"You have a plan," Cassiopeia said almost accusingly.
"I always have a plan," Gellert replied. "Now, off with you, I need to
finalise it."
Cassiopeia frowned but bid him farewell before leaving and Gellert
took a seat at his rickety desk to ponder everything he had learned.
Humming to himself, he reflected briefly on the absurdity of the
situation.
Cassiopeia Black was raising the grandson of who had been one of
his greatest foes, and Gellert would now be dedicating his time to
helping the boy.
The irony was not lost on the former dark lord, and he chuckled to
himself as he set to work.
"You'd better appreciate this, Potter," he grumbled to himself