POV. Arcturus Corvus Armand Black-Malfoy.
He stood before the large window on the third floor of Rosier Manor, watching the rain pound against the numerous panes that stretched from floor to ceiling. Directly opposite the study where the two Lords, Amanda's father, and the lawyers were seated. On the first floor, the other members of the Rosier family, Narcissa, and Draco were gathered. He gazed out the windows at a whole world — gray, wet, and blurred, yet no less beautiful for it. The downpour was so heavy that it slightly fogged the view, but even through the veil of water, Arcturus could make out the beauty of their courtyard. He could even see, in the distance, the wrought-iron gates adorned with forged roses, and the trees beyond, their branches bending under the weight of the raindrops.
"Beautiful. Not at all like Malfoy Manor. Here, nature isn't restrained, and it's mesmerizing."
Rosier Manor was enormous — rivaling their ancestral home — but built in a different style. Older, with thick walls of gray stone, overgrown with ivy and roses that bloomed even in January, before today's rain replaced the lying snow. Around it stretched a courtyard — truly a courtyard, not a garden. For there were no neatly trimmed, manicured bushes here; instead, freely climbing plants thrived, and beyond the manor, a real forest began immediately past the fence.
Arcturus stood by the window and felt something inside him quiet. Everything around was so overcast, so calm, that he liked it all. And it seemed he had made peace with it. Made peace with the fact that the choice would be made for him. Made peace with the fact that he would be betrothed to Amanda… or would he?
Hadn't he once reasoned that, in the end, this was the price for everything you get? And the price wasn't so high. But now he had cast those thoughts aside in an endless comparison of two girls. Amanda was beautiful, intelligent, cunning, and bold. She could stand up for herself, knew how to present herself, and promised to grow into a femme fatale who would break more than one heart. Arcturus hoped she could become a support, cover his back when needed. And everything was pointing in that direction — the girl was in love with him, and that was worth a great deal.
"Not that I had a choice. But if I had to choose, my inaction chose rather well."
He stepped closer to the window. The rain flooded everything outside — the fountain that gushed, its streams lost in the deluge, the trees whose leaves trembled under the impact of the drops, the vines that wound around the walls and fences. He liked Rosier Manor. It was cozy here, and he wanted to stay, to live, to feel this strange harmony between stone and nature.
"Just like at Milfoil Manor."
The thought stung somewhere in his chest, arising on its own.
For he had had a choice before… on the other side was Celine. A true genius of magic — not just talented and intelligent, but a genuine prodigy, one who appears once in a generation. If Amanda was cunning and bold, Celine was otherworldly. She saw what others didn't, felt what others overlooked.
"She's sure to achieve great things in magic. And she's so understanding and calm… sweet…"
He watched the rain, and suddenly something clicked in his head.
Rain, the Milfoil garden, Celine with her light-ash-blonde hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders.
He pressed his hand to his head, squeezing his eyes shut, but the images didn't disappear — they grew brighter, clearer, more painful.
"Rain and Celine…"
A snippet from a letter she had sent a while ago surfaced in his mind: "It's raining today, and you're still not here."
He opened his eyes. The glass was cool against his forehead. From outside, it might have looked as if a tear traced down his cheek — but it was just a raindrop, symbolically sliding down the glass on the outside. The boy stepped back slightly from the pane.
Relief and pain pressed on his consciousness simultaneously, and the world before his eyes swam, shifting, rearranging, returning to where it had once been.
In an instant, it was no longer Rosier Manor around him, but Celine Milfoil standing before him.
She was tall, slender, and her light-ash-blonde hair, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, seemed so weightless that he wanted to touch it. But the main feature was her eyes — large, bright blue, like the summer sky over Provence. There was no hostility, no cunning, no deceit in them. Only pure curiosity and a perceptive, bright gaze that saw more than she showed.
She smiled — a little sadly, wistfully — but there was so much warmth in that smile that Arcturus's heart ached.
"So, the time has come, hasn't it?" she said, her voice as soft as the whisper of rain outside the window.
"What time, Celine?" he asked, not understanding what was happening, but the memory couldn't hear him.
"Summer flew by so quickly…" the girl said sadly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Where is she coming from? And where am I?"
But his thoughts were elsewhere; his eyes couldn't tear themselves away from her.
"Even in my memory, your eyes are incredibly beautiful," he said. "There's so much that's wonderful and pure in them."
A light blush appeared on her cheeks, and the sadness receded for a moment, replaced by an embarrassed smile.
"Are you trying to make our farewell even harder, Malfoy?" She tried to turn it into a joke, but her voice wavered, betraying her true feelings.
"Perhaps, Celine," he replied, understanding that this was merely a lost fragment of memory. "Perhaps."
"Everything was exactly as it was then. I think I remembered everything."
She looked at him, a storm of regret, sadness, and affection — now seeming so real and fragile — raging in her gaze.
"Will we see each other again?" she whispered, and in that simple question lay all her fear and all her hope.
Arcturus looked at her and didn't want to make empty promises, even now. He reached out his hand but, of course, couldn't touch her.
"We'll see each other," he said quietly. "We'll see each other… when it rains."
And she disappeared. Dissolved into the gray haze, leaving only an echo of a smile and a whisper drowned out by the rain.
Arcturus stood by the window, quietly repeating the phrase. Every last piece of memory finally fused together, for even those fragments that had chipped away and seemed lost forever had returned. In the end, he even recalled that terrible moment when his memory was erased. That moment that the then-Arcturus had desperately tried to save — and had succeeded.
He finally remembered that snippet of his thoughts just before they were wiped. Word for word, he recalled those desperate thoughts of his last act of bravery, when, on the brink of disappearance, his consciousness had found a way to preserve tiny grains of memory, to use them to recover everything.
"And this moment of my reasoning, I might never remember again. But if I do… then Arcturus, you must destroy them all… their entire family, down to the last one! Not for yourself in this moment, when you remember, but for yourself in that moment when you desperately tried to save your memory, knowing the futility of hope. Whatever it takes… do it! I hope you remember."
There the thought broke off, and it seemed Arcturus had remembered everything. Hope had once again proven it was never in vain, and the boy smiled sincerely, for he had taken his revenge. Every one of the Answorths had been killed; every one of his kidnappers was dead.
"Thank you, you did well…" he whispered his gratitude to himself.
"Are you talking to the window?" came a teasingly gentle voice from beside him.
He turned sharply.
Amanda stood there, and she was truly beautiful.
Her long light hair fell freely over her shoulders, framing a face that could drive any artist mad. A white dress with a pinkish hue flowed over her figure, accentuating every movement. Her porcelain skin, her beautiful eyes, her confident gaze — it all ate at the heart with its beauty, its tenderness, and its danger.
She was an aristocrat to her fingertips — from her walk to the smallest gesture. But she also possessed that particular boldness that Arcturus valued most in her. She could be gentle, but she could also be dangerous. She knew how to manipulate, how to play, yet remain a tender girl. Her lively, simultaneously soft and firm character was felt in every gesture. It drew many in.
"I…" Arcturus began, but faltered. "I wanted to comment on the beauty of your manor, but…"
He paused, looking at her.
"Your beauty in that dress has eclipsed all my thoughts. You know… dresses suit you very well."
Amanda smiled sweetly, adjusting her loose hair. The gesture was natural, but it carried that mesmerizing grace unique to her. But that movement reminded Arcturus of something.
"I'm glad to hear that," she replied with a smile, clearly hiding her embarrassment. "I like dresses too. They look… truly beautiful on me."
She paused, appraising him with a glance.
"By the way, Ark, I see you've dressed up too," the girl said sweetly. "That robe suits you."
It seemed like a simple return compliment, but she couldn't take her eyes off his stately figure in the formal robe and his face, which would make any girl fall in love. The boy looked older than his years. He was nearly a head taller than her, and this difference only emphasized how well they looked together.
They looked at each other for a short while — but without averting their gaze. Amanda studied every line of his face. Arcturus, finally able to pull his thoughts away from Celine, also paused for a couple of seconds, looking at her. But in the end, he managed to remember the unfinished business.
He took a large square box from his expanded-space pouch — about the size of a folded chessboard.
"There are sixteen silver brooches here," he said. "Four have a stone set in the eye. They are for the Councilors. Six more are for our classmates — you know who. The rest are for the second-years, those we've already decided to give them to, and those you deem worthy to issue later."
He fell silent, and they both took hold of the box from opposite ends. Their fingers almost touched but didn't meet. They held the box like that — as if on purpose, as if it were another way for the two teenagers, who looked better than ever today, to stay close.
"Don't just hand them out casually," Arcturus added. "It should be presented mysteriously, so they become valuable to the recipients."
"Why only four for the Councilors?" Amanda asked, nodding at the box.
"I have mine with me," Arcturus replied. "And I wanted to give yours to you personally."
He took out a snake-shaped brooch with a green stone in its eye. Amanda smiled sweetly, accepting the gift.
"It looks wonderful," she said. "I think everyone will like them."
"The main thing is that you like it, Amanda," Arcturus replied. "Today will change everything, and although I'll be controlling much through Avery, I will trust you the most. You must keep an eye on everything and inform me if anything happens. Keep these words a secret and help me create what I want."
Amanda was flattered, unaware that Arcturus had said the same thing to Avery during their joint meeting. In this way, he decided to test them both, while maintaining control.
"I understand, Arcturus. You can trust me," Amanda, not taking her eyes off him, called the house-elf. "Finny, come here."
The little elf, in starched clothes with the Rosier crest, appeared instantly.
"Take this box to my room," the girl ordered. "Carefully."
The elf bowed and disappeared with the heavy load.
"Not the best weather for such a day," Amanda remarked, nodding toward the window.
Arcturus chuckled.
"I like it. Such a heavy rain... it's even cozy."
Amanda smiled and moved closer, standing beside him at the window. They watched the raindrops run down the glass in silence.
He glanced at Amanda.
"For now, I can probably enjoy the conversation. No matter how melancholy the rain adds, the beauty beside me doesn't let me fall into despair."
She was beautiful, Arcturus admitted to himself.
"And is it worth complaining about the burden of fate? I can potentially become Lord of two of the richest houses in magical Britain; today I'll be betrothed to a beautiful girl from an equally influential family who is also in love with me. And I find her attractive. Not to mention all the other prospects..."
It wasn't worth it. But apparently, he still hadn't made peace with someone else's choice. However, now he just smiled.
"Come," he said, extending his hand to her. "Show me your manor while they're busy. I think they can call us through the house-elf if needed."
"With pleasure, Arcturus."
Amanda unexpectedly took his hand, and they walked together. The rain continued to roar outside the window, and Arcturus Malfoy decided to leave the bargaining with himself for the future, enjoying the moment before the important event he had been running from for so long.
They walked for about another half hour, enjoying each other's company. Amanda told him about the family manor, and he listened attentively, beginning to enjoy the melodious voice of the girl who was acting at that moment like an ordinary, sweet girl... an infatuated girl. For the first time, Arcturus felt a lightness during his interaction with the beautiful blonde. They laughed and talked so easily that it finally became clear that all these years, the chains of upbringing had prevented them from seeing sincerity in each other. The only thing still preventing Arcturus from fully giving in to the moment was Amanda's blue eyes, which sometimes brought up the image of Celine, who would most likely be unhappy because of his choice. Their walk came to an end with the appearance of the house-elf, just as the platinum-haired boy had reasoned.
***
We sat in the spacious study of Lord Rosier. The study was large — walls of dark wood, high ceilings, massive furniture that remembered more than one generation. On the opposite side of the room, behind a black oak desk, sat Lord Rosier himself.
An old wizard and one of the first Death Eaters. A wizard who had waited for Tom Riddle to return from Hogwarts when he had still been asking Dumbledore for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position. He was over seventy, but his faded light-blue eyes still looked so piercing that they made even my father, Lucius Malfoy, hold himself more tensely.
The old school... I could have said that and admired his old-school aristocratic bearing, but I rather wanted to spit in his face. He had been involved in the fact that now half the nobles bore the slave mark of Voldemort. He was the one who had directly obeyed the young half-blood Riddle, fighting for blood purity. What nonsense... it infuriates me!
This whole generation had lost the influence they had a century ago. Old idiots...
The elder Rosier chewed his lip, examining me, and there was neither warmth nor even ordinary politeness in his gaze.
He looked at his granddaughter quite differently. Whenever his gaze fell on Amanda, barely noticeable wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes — apparently an attempt at a smile, which he didn't quite manage.
His son, Amanda's father, was younger — about forty-five, with light-ash-blonde hair, clean-shaven, with regular features. His name was... Etheridge, I think. I had seen Amanda's parents at the Ministry Ball.
Beside him stood Eleanor Rosier — Amanda's mother. Her graceful appearance and delicate features — all had been passed on to her daughter. She was beautiful in her restrained elegance and carried herself as if this day had been rehearsed by her a hundred times.
As had my mother, Narcissa Malfoy, who stood beside me. Her proud posture, impeccable hairstyle, and barely noticeable smile — everything spoke of her having prepared for this moment no less than Eleanor.
My father, like Lord Rosier, was serious. The two Lords and their solicitors had already decided everything. Now they simply stood aside, acting as notaries.
I shifted my gaze to Amanda. She stood opposite, between her parents. Her hands, folded before her, trembled slightly — she tried to calm them, but not very successfully. She kept nervously wanting to adjust her hair, and each time her mother gently but firmly lowered her hand.
Nervousness is nervousness. Even for little snakes.
But I was calm. Calm as a boa constrictor, and there was one other person in my field of vision like that. Lord Rosier looked at me with his heavy gaze, but I looked back.
At some point, the elder Rosier finally looked at my father and gave a short nod.
My father placed his hand on my shoulder. So it was time. Everything that followed would be mere formality. A way to bind and burden me and Amanda. The Lords had already exchanged such agreements. Therefore, I was sure that if a situation arose where one side wanted to break the contract, war would break out sooner than compensation would be paid. For they had burdened themselves considerably.
Everyone moved closer to the center of the room. I stepped forward, towards the Rosier family. Amanda stood in the middle, between her father and mother, her head slightly raised.
I stopped opposite their family.
"Mr. Rosier, I have the honor of asking for your daughter's hand, Amanda Rosier. My fortune and feelings for her allow me to hope for your blessing."
Amanda's father looked at me for a long second, then nodded, as if his opinion at this moment actually decided something.
"Mr. Malfoy," he replied, his voice as steady as mine. "I know you as a worthy young man from a respected family. I give my consent to the betrothal to my daughter, provided that you honor all agreements reached by our families."
I looked at Amanda again. She stood before me, her eyes looking at me with expectation.
"Miss Rosier," I said, slowly extending my relaxed left hand, palm up. "If you allow me to hope for your favor, I will do everything to become worthy of your hand."
She lowered her gaze to my palm, then lifted her eyes to me again.
"I am deeply touched by your proposal, Mr. Malfoy," she replied, her voice soft. "And with the consent of my parents, I accept it with gratitude."
She extended her left hand.
I gently touched her fingers, barely maintaining contact with my fingertips, as etiquette prescribed.
Instead of pulling the ring from my pocket, as everyone expected, I decided to show something that would clearly sting Lord Rosier, standing nearby. I lifted my gaze and met his faded light-blue eyes. My gaze was just as dead and empty as his.
Then I turned my gaze back to the beautiful girl whose hand I gently held. She looked at me as if mesmerized — without looking away or blinking. The entire world for her now seemed to have narrowed down to me.
A light movement of my right hand, and a dark velvet box levitated above it. A smooth movement of my fingers, and it opened, revealing a gold ring adorned with a large diamond and a scatter of smaller ones.
The ring slowly rose into the air, obeying my will. Hovering and spinning, it glided towards the three outstretched fingers of my right hand and stopped, almost touching them.
I closed my fingers around the ring.
The box still hung in the air — unneeded and forgotten. But I didn't remove it. Let it reinforce the Lord's awareness; I think he should make a certain association with a very powerful individual.
I slipped the ring onto the ring finger of Amanda's left hand.
"Then," I said, and at that moment, everything around seemed to freeze, "I am immensely glad, Amanda."
Now I could address her by her first name during this ceremony.
I inclined my head and kissed the back of her hand. When I lifted my head, Amanda was smiling sincerely. But for some reason, I was sure I had glimpsed something distinctly predatory in that smile for a moment.
"I'm happy too," she said softly.
Behind her, her parents and grandfather watched the levitating box, which slowly floated and settled on the table. Absolutely without any hand movement — it had taken considerable effort not to lose concentration, but the reaction was worth it.
We walked together towards the same table where the documents lay. The Lords had already signed everything. The lawyers stood aside, to later be able to confirm their authenticity.
On the table lay a silver dagger and a blood quill that wrote in the writer's blood. The main object was a golden goblet. I took the quill in my hand and scanned the contract's clauses.
Almost all of them were familiar to me, as they were expected. But I was looking for what had been added yesterday.
"The contract is valid only if Arcturus Corvus Armand Malfoy is the heir and becomes the future head of the ancient and noble house, both by will and by word."
Mordred take you...
I lifted my eyes and looked at the two Lords. Lord Rosier stared at me with the same stony expression. My father was clearly tense, knowing my character. Although this time, there were two proper fighters present, not counting my mother.
But I didn't care. Since Father had nevertheless decided to secure the house for my brother, I would take it by force later. I wonder, did he really expect to be able to kill Sirius... Otherwise, he would have to leave the Malfoy house to me for the betrothal. Although... perhaps after the wedding, he could change the house's will.
I took the ritual dagger and, without hesitation, made a deep cut on my palm. Blood flowed more abundantly than required, but I didn't flinch.
A lot of blood was needed, but I gave as much as was necessary, and even more, filling a quarter of the goblet, which had been half full of wine.
Amanda approached the table and didn't hesitate either. Her blood mixed with mine in the golden goblet. The wine, mixed with our blood, became dark red. Almost black.
We stood opposite each other. The ancient and Ministry-forbidden blood oath, still alive in the old houses, had been memorized in the couple of hours before this moment.
"Iuro," I began in Latin, my voice echoing through the study, "me fidelem fore et eam quae ante me stat defensurum." (I swear that I will be faithful and protect her who stands before me.)
"Iuro," Amanda replied, her voice just as firm, "me adjumentum et firmamentum fore ei qui ante me stat." (I swear that I will be support and foundation to him who stands before me.)
With each word, the heartbeat grew stronger. With each word, magic thickened around us, and I felt something connecting deep within. Drops of blood appeared on our skin — on my wrists, on Amanda's neck.
We took turns drinking from the goblet. I took a sip, then she took a sip. The goblet was large, and we drank for a long time, passing it back and forth until it was empty.
When the goblet was empty, the world around us seemed to explode with magic — though not for others. I saw it, not with my eyes, but felt threads of blood stretching from my chest to hers, gradually intertwining. I felt something heavy and unshakeable settle beneath our skin.
"Visne tuam manum et cor mihi dare?" I asked, looking directly into her eyes. (Do you agree to give me your hand and heart?)
"Volo, sanguine et magia iuro," Amanda replied, her eyes glistening. (Yes, I swear by blood and magic.)
"Sanguine et magia iuro," I repeated, and at that moment, something clicked into place, binding us forever. (I swear by blood and magic.)
My head spun sharply, and my vision blurred. The ritual had taken blood and strength, so I only miraculously managed to stay on my feet, even supporting her by her waist — she leaned into my chest, afraid to fall. My vision darkened, and the only thing keeping me conscious was her gaze; there was no one else around.
The study had emptied. Everyone had left, because by aristocratic norms, no one was supposed to see us kiss before the wedding. True, everyone seemed to forget about that at Hogwarts. Here, even the lawyers had left the room.
I leaned towards her lips.
They were soft, gentle, and their taste wasn't spoiled even by our mixed blood, which left a coppery and slightly sweet tang on the tongue. When we pulled apart, I looked into her eyes.
But soon my thoughts drifted from romance...
They had calculated everything! Given us time alone before the ceremony. Chosen this particular order of actions. Inserted into the contract a clause that now made it clear what kind of alliance of four houses my father had spoken of.
I was sure Lord Rosier would not have allowed such an "oversight." He understood that I would become Lord Malfoy only if I did not become Lord Black. At the same time, they believed they could finish off Sirius. Only they didn't know that Sirius was already dead.
But in general, it didn't matter. The ritual couldn't be interrupted, but there was always a way out. The ancient ritual binds us by blood... which sounds funny, considering that Amanda is actually my third cousin on my mother's side. But the essence of the ritual was different. And during its existence, I had read that some methods had been created to bypass it. But I didn't want to bypass it right now, and the method was unknown; I only knew that it existed. The Black family library would help me... when I become Lord and receive the signet ring.
"You're beautiful," I said, smiling.
She smirked and pressed closer to me.
"Will we have time for another kiss before they come back?" she whispered.
We did. Afterwards, they came in, and then during lunch with the two families, when the entire Rosier family — much larger than ours — joined us, I finally had a moment to think.
For I had a new plan. They were counting on the wedding to take place before I became Lord Black. But if the opposite happened, if I received the title before the wedding — which would take place after we finished school — then I could break the betrothal without penalties. For no one else can decide for Lord Black.
And I would become Lord Black, and definitely before the wedding. No one would stop me. Neither the old Lords, who had forgotten why they feared Voldemort. Nor Dumbledore, whom they feared to touch. I would restore greatness to the ancient and noble houses, but this time, that greatness would be subordinate to me.
I would prove that being a Black is akin to being of royal blood. I'm sure there would be a hundred other obstacles, but as long as I live, I would pursue my goal.
I would build the world I desired. For I am Arcturus Corvus Armand Black-Malfoy!
***
From the Author
Well, the moment has come to explain everything.
It seems the time has come to discuss the second volume. But first, I must congratulate myself and all of you, dear readers. The end of the first volume has arrived, and we have almost reached the events many have been waiting for — namely, Durmstrang. The size of the first volume is almost 2.4 million characters. That's a huge number; translated into words, it's 368,000 words, or about five average-sized books.
Now I'll explain why the finale of this volume feels so "un-final." The thing is, according to the original plan, there were no volumes at all. Plus, the return of the memory was supposed to happen in a different scene, combined with the murder of Benedict Answorth around the summer holidays of the third year, without the external exams. But Sirius's death was timely, as were almost all the other events. However, I decided to change things a bit, and that's how a character like Edrian Vance emerged as a replacement for the main antagonist of the third year — Benedict Answorth. In the end, in some ways, it even turned out better. But even if I had written it as originally planned, the finale wouldn't have been particularly impressive — because there wasn't supposed to be a volume finale at all. What's more, when I started writing, according to my calculations, the story should have already reached its conclusion by this volume. But it turned out that you can't just rush through events as you please. In that case, you end up either just listing what the hero did, or you get random scenes with three dialogues lacking logic and liveliness.
But in any case, I must admit that much could have been cut significantly, namely: removing the first few chapters, removing the lengthy lessons in the first year, also removing two flying lesson scenes, a couple more chapters from the second year, and separately removing the Tonks exposition, which ultimately didn't play a role. Initially, she was supposed to be in place of Merula Snyde, but then I changed my mind. So if I started rewriting, I would completely remove half a chapter dedicated to her duel. Altogether, that would be about ten chapters fewer, but that's still not the point. The initial plan was to reach the prologue events in 70 chapters, and finish the story in another 70. Now I realize that I'll need about 150 more chapters to reach the prologue events — I'll separate that into another volume — and then the same amount after the prologue events for a third volume.
In the end, it will be a story that can be read from any volume, and the difference will be whether you understand where the original characters and their backstories come from. In short, I plan to split the originally intended single book into at least three large volumes, or maybe two large ones and a bunch of smaller ones — I'm not sure yet.
I'm really looking forward to this moment, because if the finale of the first volume wasn't all that impressive, then the prologue of the second volume should completely overwrite that aftertaste. In any case, I've tried very hard, and since the release of the first chapter, I've made every possible effort to find time and write chapters. And now I'm immensely glad that I've found such an audience that reads, comments, and leaves reactions.
In the end, it's unlikely anyone will say that my fanfic is the best in this fandom, because there are many flaws. But I hope that for some, it will be a complementary piece of the fandom. And on that note, I think that's all. I'm going to get some sleep.
Thank you all, soon the second volume will start appearing here!