Set in 1986 — Cassius, age 10)
The house at the edge of the North Sea was older than the cliffs it stood upon. Storms broke against its wards, lightning crawling over invisible domes of magic. Inside, the boy who owned none of it yet — but would one day own far more — sat surrounded by books twice his height.
Cassius Arcturus Shafiq-Black had been reading since dawn. He always did. He read until the light dimmed, until the ink blurred, and sometimes until the hourglass beside him spun back on its axis.
A faint shimmer filled the air as the sand reversed. Time folded. He took a long breath and turned another page.
Five years old, and already far too clever for the world he'd inherited.He had discovered the time-turner purely by accident — hidden behind a portrait in the family library. When he touched it, his innate magic flared, binding the artifact to him before his mother could intervene. Since then, Cassius had used it with terrifying precision, doubling, tripling his days, all in secret.
While other children learned to read, he learned rune theory.While others played, he studied alchemy, wandlore, and the political history of the wizarding world.
His mind absorbed everything. He didn't memorize — he understood. Every spell, every motion, every formula.
How he came to Know about his leneage ?
It happened on a winter night, when the sea was black glass and the fire had burned low.
A soft crack of apparition broke the silence.
Cassius looked up.An old house-elf, wrinkled and trembling, stood in the doorway — eyes huge, voice shaking."Kreacher… Kreacher comes as promised, young master," it croaked, bowing so low its nose touched the carpet.
Cassius blinked. "You know me?"
"Kreacher served Master Regulus. Kreacher was told, 'If I fail, find my son. Tell him the truth.' Kreacher has found him." The elf's voice broke on the word son.
Cassius felt the world shift beneath him.His father — the name whispered in the shadows of his mother's silence — was real. And he had planned for this.
"What truth?" Cassius asked softly.
Kreacher held out a small vial, glowing with silvery memory. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to keep this safe. Said the world would not understand his choice. That only his blood would finish what he began."
Cassius reached out, and as his fingers brushed the vial, the truth unfolded — images flooding his mind:Regulus defying the Dark Lord, Kreacher retrieving the locket, and the moment of sacrifice in that cursed cave.
When it was over, Cassius stood very still. His hands no longer trembled.
"Then I will finish it," he said quietly. "And I will restore our name."
Kreacher bowed low, tears streaking his face. "Master Regulus would be proud."
He devoured treatises on magical inheritance, family magic, wandless spellwork, and pure-blood law. His system — the silent force within him — allowed him to replicate every skill, every incantation, every rune pattern he saw.
He learned cursebreaking from ancient texts the goblins had written, and occlumency from half-faded Black family diaries. When he ran out of books, he started transcribing the enchantments woven into the walls.
At seven, he performed his first blood test at Gringotts. The goblins had expected nothing from a child — until his lineage sigil appeared in silver fire:Regulus Arcturus Black – FatherSelene Shafiq – MotherStatus: Heir confirmed.
The goblin managing the test had dropped its quill. "By the bank's decree, the Black and Shafiq vaults are now under provisional access of the heir."
It took Cassius less than an hour to understand what that meant. Within weeks, he'd visited the vaults himself — a child escorted by startled goblins through miles of stone and secrecy.
He had not gone for gold.He'd gone for knowledge.
He left with trunks of spellbooks, grimoires, old family journals, enchanted ledgers detailing businesses and holdings long thought lost. Among them were entries about muggle economics , notes from pure-bloods who had secretly studied the outside world before the wars.
The boy understood what even his ancestors had missed:The wizarding world was dying because it refused to learn.
When he turned ten, he stood in the old Black family vault alone.Torches flickered over the crest carved into obsidian stone — the serpent and the stars.
In one hand, he held his father's letter — a final confession, recovered by Kreacher.
"The world I leave is divided. The Dark Lord sought to enslave it, the Ministry to deny it. But the true power lies with those who understand both magic and reason. If you are reading this, my son — build something better."
Cassius closed his eyes.
He could already see the future unfolding:He would study magic until no one could rival him.He would study the muggle world until no secret was beyond his reach.He would weave both into one — not just as a wizard, but as a builder of worlds.
When he opened his eyes, there was no hesitation.
He spoke softly, voice steady and certain:"I will restore the House of Black. Not through fear or blood, but through understanding."
From the shadows above, flame burst into being.A phoenix of silver and black descended, wings spreading in silent grace. Its cry filled the vault, deep and solemn.
Cassius raised his hand, and the phoenix bowed. A bond — ancient, instinctive — sealed between them.
He smiled faintly. "Erevos," he said. "That will be your name."
And as he stepped from the vault, the torches blazed brighter, casting his shadow across the stones like a crown.
In that moment, the boy who had learned faster than the world could teach became something new.
The heir of the Blacks.The heir of knowledge itself.The beginning of a legend.