The French Prodigy

His training started that same night as Morgana made him review all his control exercises and complimented him on how far he had gotten, before adding an extra layer of complexity. The new exercises were much more fluid and stressed visualizing the flow of magic and changing to harmonize it with his surroundings. It was significantly harder than the rigid internal control that he had built up previously.

She educated him of the strata that magicals in this world were categorized into. There were squibs, who had an innate connection with magic that varied in strength but did not have the ability to channel it. Wizards were the average and most common category of magicals, they channeled the magic in their surroundings to cast a spell.

The next level above wizards were warlocks, who were able to personalize the magic before casting it, imbuing their unique signature into the very spells they cast. By being capable of such a feat, they could learn powerful ancient magics that were dependent on their intent. Essentially, only warlocks could learn and cast Grey magic.

The final and highest level a magical could achieve was the rank of mage. There was no need for them to channel magic through their bodies as they were able to manipulate magic in its most primal form. There were only seven at any given time, with all of them being Grandmasters of one Grey field of magic.

They tended to act like hermits, isolating themselves from the rest of society while shunning material wealth and power. This meant not many magicals ever had the opportunity to meet a mage.

Morgana was uncertain how it worked in the modern era, but back in ancient times, the mages formed the Council of Seven, guiding and protecting the secrecy of the magical world and the integrity of the Veil. House Le Fay had been granted a hereditary seat on the Council as a founding member, but after so many centuries had passed, she wasn't sure if that was still the case.

Hearing about mages and their abilities was overwhelming for Archer. Back in his old reality, the titles mage, warlock, and wizard had been used interchangeably to describe all magicals. It had more to do with culture and history than actual magical strength and knowledge.

A group of seven mighty mages would have put a stop to Voldemort and his madness quickly, ensuring the situation hadn't escalated past a certain point. It would have taken a load off his shoulders if such a group had existed.

That raised the question of how Voldemort had even been successful in this reality. If there were forces capable of defeating the Death Eaters without much trouble, why weren't they used? The Blood War started in the early 1970's and ended in 1981. Nearly a decade of infighting in the British magical community, and the outcome had practically been the same save for minor differences.

The Pureblood Lords had pleaded the same Imperius defense and gotten away with slaps on the wrist with several "donations" to good causes. He had hoped that this reality's Bagnold had been different, but she turned out to be the same corrupt bitch he remembered reading about previously. Why would the ICW not intervene in the Blood War?

The fighting had spilled over to the non-magical world several times, with Obliviation Squads being dispatched en masse to protect the Statute of Secrecy. With how many close calls there were, it was surprising that the ICW, the body that was charged with maintaining international relations between the magical communities and the Statute, wouldn't have at least offered aid. Last time he checked, the man had been elected as Supreme Mugwump while the war raged on and had requested international reinforcements on numerous occasions.

As he was pondering on the ICW's lack of action, another question came up. Why would the Council not order the ICW to intervene? From what Morgana told him, they were the de facto leaders of the magical world. They were obligated to meet once a year to be briefed on current events and make important decisions.

Surely, they had received reports on the battles of the British Blood War, right? They could have simply ordered the ICW to help put down the upstart Dark Lord who had systematically broken the Statute.

Protecting the secrecy of the magical world was in their job description. All they had to do was give the order and the war would have been finished before too many people lost their lives.

The fact that they hadn't rankled him. From his research, the war had extinguished several family lines. There were many more magicals in the world overall than he had thought. In his previous reality, the entire population of British Magical Society was less than ten thousand. Here, they numbered in the millions. Still, the death toll of the war was in the tens of thousands.

This would require some serious research as a big stumbling block had appeared in his previously well-thought out plans. Even if he gained influence in the French Ministry, the ICW could put a halt on reinforcements whenever they pleased. Another obstacle was the Council, which could also prevent the other countries from coming to Britain's aid.

'Damn! I need to make inroads in the ICW if I hope to stand a chance in the war. Was it bribery from the Death Eaters, like they did with the French Ministry?'

He wouldn't put it past Voldemort to have subtly influenced them to hold back until he was ready to confront them openly. The bastard was genuinely insane and had a flair for the dramatic, but one thing he couldn't be called was stupid.

The same went for Lucius Malfoy. Despite begetting a son that was nowhere near as smart and conniving, the man had clawed his way into the upper echelons of British Pureblood society and cemented House Malfoy's status as the leaders of the Traditionalist faction on the Wizengamot. The fact that the Malfoys were only an Ancient House that had been in Britain for less than 300 years only gave more credence to the man's incredible political acumen.

He was certain he could place the reason for the ICW's laissez-faire policy regarding the war against Voldemort solely at the feet of Lucius Malfoy. He was a key player that would need to be taken out early on to avoid future troubles. There was a good reason why he gained the reputation as Voldemort's left hand while Bellatrix was the right.

Taking out Malfoy would not only cause less deadlocks in governmental bodies around Europe, but it would also destabilize Voldemort's funding. The Malfoys were able to spend heavily on bribes mainly because of Narcissa and her status as a daughter of House Black. The Blacks provided all daughters of the house with personal vaults that would refill annually even after they were married.

The Malfoys had gained most of their liquid assets from Narcissa's vault. Combined with the family's original wealth and numerous shady business dealings, Lucius was able to grease all the right palms to always avoid justice for his reprehensible actions. Draco's claim to the Black fortune also brought them no small amount of business. With Sirius not imprisoned in Azkaban, and the rightful Lord Black, he wasn't sure if this was still the case.

'Looks like I'll have to dedicate this year to researching and planning out how to fight the war. Well, I'll probably end up becoming Marcel's number one customer with the number of books I'll need to order.' Archer groaned in frustration. Things just never were as easy as he thought they would be.

His family held his second ever birthday party, and this time, the guest list was much larger. With all the fancy Pureblood parties they had attended, courtesy dictated that they had to eventually give an invite back to their hosts.

He enjoyed it, despite the lack of the homey feeling of the first one. More people meant he had less time to stick to any one group, as he was the birthday boy. He spent the rest of the evening flitting about, conversing with both the children and the adults.

Laura had been invited along with Renaud. Both showed up to congratulate him, and Laura had arrived early to gift him three sets of bespoke Apprentice robes. Other than Renaud, all the other guests had been surprised when he was trotted out in his brand-new Apprentice robes with Laura officially reintroducing him to the guests as her Apprentice.

After they had gotten over the initial shock of the announcement, he had been bombarded with congratulations, as everyone was aware of what an astonishing accomplishment securing an Apprenticeship under a young but renowned Transfiguration Mistress like Laura.

Bertrand had warmly congratulated Laura for taking on such a talented young Apprentice and wished her all the best in her research and mentorship. The Pureblood Lords all sucked up to him more than he thought possible. Back when he last met them, he was still just a young man with potential.

Now, that potential had been recognized and he was a formal Apprentice. His social status had skyrocketed in their eyes, as now, it was a foregone conclusion that he would eventually become a Transfiguration Master himself.

With how young he was, they all correctly assumed that he was extraordinarily powerful for his age and would only become stronger as he grew older. Laura had been proud of the fact that her Apprentice was the second youngest in the guild's history. As a part of his speech, he expressed his gratitude for the support of his parents, mentors, and friends, declaring that he would make them all proud.

He started his 3rd year at Beauxbatons by catching everyone's eyes with his Apprentice robes at the Welcoming Feast. Madame Maxime had made a formal announcement of his status and offered her congratulations on behalf of the staff. Desjardin had been ecstatic about starting their duelling training, upon learning the news.

After finding out about his family, he noticed that the problems he used to face with Transfiguration had been ameliorated for the most part. It was still a little unstable, especially in large or complex transformations, but it was enough to cast the third-year spells, proving that he could further his studies in practical Transfiguration and not be restricted to theory.

He followed his regular routine, except he decided to drop Herbology and Astronomy to take up Runes and Arithmancy. It was a difficult course load to bear in conjunction with specifying a research topic that would eventually result in a Mastery Thesis and helping Laura with her research.

Desjardin started joining him in his morning training and guided his efforts into practicing skills and spells that would be useful for duelling. Their goal was for him to make his debut in the U-15 tournament over the summer. This was an important event as it would declare to the world that he was Desjardin's student, and a good placement would reflect well on his teacher's skills.

While they were training for the duelling circuit, he had demanded to be called either Coach or Henri, and not Professor Desjardin. His reasoning being that since they were training in a non-academic capacity, his title as Professor and the prestige attached to it did not apply to their situation. So Archer decided to call him Henri, simply because it was easier and slightly more personal than Coach.

The first semester flew by as he kept up with his schoolwork while researching both the magical governing bodies of the world and how they operated, as well as what his Mastery Thesis topic would be. By Winter Break, he had finalized two potential thesis topics, and registered early for the upcoming 1993 European U-15 tournament.

Over the Winter break, he convinced his parents to make a trip to Gringotts Moscow so he could meet with the Romanov Account Manager, Tibkasz. He learned a little bit about the history of the family, along with how exactly he was related to them. It turned out that he was the grandson of the youngest daughter of Tsar Nicholas II, Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia.

Many believed she had been executed with the rest of her family in the Ipatiev House by the Bolsheviks under the command of Yakov Yurovsky. What most didn't know was that Anastasia was the sole magical child born to the Romanov dynasty in decades. Her mother, who was the favorite granddaughter of Queen Victoria, wrote to the Queen to ask for her assistance in securing her daughter a magical education once she turned 11.

Before her death, Queen Victoria coordinated with the goblins to create a false identity for Anastasia so that she could attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Due to rising tensions on the European Continent, his great-grandmother convinced her husband to send his daughter to the safety of Great Britain instead of the school of his ancestors, the Durmstrang Institute.

She was admitted to Hogwarts under the pseudonym Anna Nichols and sorted into Slytherin House. From age 11, she completed 6 years of her education when tragedy struck. Her family was deposed, put under house arrest, and moved to their final prison before being summarily executed.

Luckily for her, she had secretly received a one-time use emergency portkey as a gift from her great-grandmother, the Queen. Sadly, after months of imprisonment with little to eat, she did not have the power necessary to take her family along with her, and was barely able to get out of the situation alive. On July 17, 1918, Anastasia portkeyed away from Ipatiev House to a secret underground chamber in Buckingham Palace.

There she was met by King George V, and his family, who consoled her after her devastating loss. Instead of whiling her time away in grief, she chose to put all her energy into studying for her N.E.W.T. exams. She worked like a woman possessed, determined to become a Healer. She attended her final year of Hogwarts and graduated at the top of her class.

From there, she secured a Healer Apprenticeship with St. Mungo's Hospital. Her initiative and drive to be the best caught the eye of the Head Healer, who took a hands-on approach to Anastasia's education.

She went on to become a fully certified Healer after 7 years of working under the direct supervision of the Head Healer. Ironically, her training was only supposed to take 3 years maximum. Upon the insistence of the Head Healer, she delayed her matriculation for 4 years.

This was done because the man was insistent on teaching her as much as he could. Had she chosen to graduate and become a Junior Healer, he would not have been able to train her like he could while her status was that of Healer Apprentice.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as upon graduation, her rank rose directly to Journeyman Healer, skipping the Junior Healer rank altogether. Her near encyclopedic medical knowledge combined with her passion for helping others helped her gain a legendary reputation in St. Mungo's and British Magical Society at large.

She dedicated the rest of her life to helping those in need and went on to invent a potion that cured hemophilia, a disease her little brother and many of her relatives suffered from. That potion was the famous Blood-Replenishing Potion, which went on to save the lives of millions around the world. It was a potion that was still used to this day and was considered a staple in a Healer's medical kit.

When the Global Wizarding War against the Dark Lord Grindelwald kicked off, she was one of the first from St. Mungo's to volunteer with the ICW as a field medic. There she met Alessandro Sforza, the man who would go on to become his grandfather.

His grandfather was from a minor Italian noble house that specialized in Transfiguration, which explained his own affinity to the field. He was a frontline combatant that oftentimes got injured during his missions. His frequent visits to the field hospital allowed him to meet his grandmother and they eventually fell in love and got married near the end of the war.

According to Tibkasz, she gave birth to his father Alexei "Alex" Sforza shortly before her death. Apparently, three Russian wizards were celebrating the end of the war in Italy, when they recognized her on the street. Stalin's propaganda had inculcated a blind hatred within all Russians towards the royal family. One they chose to act upon.

They followed her, found out where she lived, and attacked her and her family that same night. When they attacked his grandparent's house, his grandfather brought her enough time to escape with his father.

She dropped him off at a local orphanage before drawing their attention away. After a long chase, they finally cornered her and killed her in cold blood. In their blind rage, they hadn't realized that she was a Healer, and there was a reason that no one dared to harm Healers.

The moment life had left her body, the men were cursed by Apollo, the deity who had blessed her when she took her Healer's Oaths. They all fell deathly ill and every Healer who tried to help found that they couldn't. This let them know that they had committed the sin of killing a Healer, and they were left to die in terrible pain and abject misery.

With his grandmother dead, and his grandfather succumbing to his injuries, his father was left to grow up an orphan. Tibkasz didn't know exactly what happened next, as his father never contacted him about the Romanov accounts. Presumably, he had never bothered to take an Inheritance test and find out about his parents for whatever reason.

Some unknown time later, he most likely met the woman who would become Archer's mother and died shortly after. Tibkasz had taken it upon himself to search extensively for Alexei and only found out that he had died in France during a Death Eater attack in 1978. The greedy little bugger had attempted to close and seize the riches for himself and the Nation, only to find that an Heir existed, and he couldn't.

Archer had a good chuckle at the disappointment Tibkasz had shown when he had arrived. The Romanov account had been accruing a healthy interest for a long time and had become Gringotts Moscow's most important account. He felt a sadistic pleasure when he told Tibkasz that he was closing the account and transferring his money elsewhere.

The goblin had raged about and almost threatened his life, but a quick flare of magic told him exactly how bad an idea that would have been. Reluctantly, they completed the paperwork to formally close the account and a surly squad of guards had escorted him to the vault, which he emptied using the enchanted trunks he found in the Peverell vault.

Leaving Russia, they made a quick trip to Warsaw, Poland on their journey back to France. There, he met with the dwarves of Khazarak, and opened an account with them to house the Romanov family fortune.

It had been amusing to see his parents' expressions when they were informed of the conversion rate of Galleons to Euros. He had inherited the wealth of one of the richest families in all of Russia and combined with his other accounts, his individual net worth was nearing their family's total net worth.

As he learned more about his family history, he could feel a strange sense of belonging forming in the back of his mind. When he asked Laura about it at the start of the spring term, she was over the moon. That feeling he had experienced was the formation and stabilization of his magical self-identity. With this, his problems with Transfiguration would effectively disappear.

Her words proved to be true, as his skills had seemingly come back to him. The ease in which he could cast spells was slowly recovering to his peak during the war against the demons. The only difference was that he could feel himself growing even stronger. His maturation had started and as he pushed himself during workouts, he felt the steady development of his muscles.

Morgana decided that March 7th at 7:07 in the evening would be the perfect time to execute the final ritual to take up his position as Prince Le Fay. So he spent almost a month scouting out a good location that he could ward to prevent others from interrupting.

Morgana had assured him that the ritual was subtle and not very flashy. However, he wasn't about to take her words at face value. When undergoing the final rite, he would take whatever measures he could to prevent any situation that would bring unwanted scrutiny onto him.

He did not want to explain to the French authorities or anyone that he was the Prince Le Fay. It was a hidden card that he could reveal later, in a setting that would bring him the most advantages.

The months flew by as the fated day approached. Before he knew it, the day of the ritual was upon him. Breathing deeply, he engaged in Occlumency exercises to calm himself down. He had prepared the necessary ingredient and runic circle ahead of time and practiced the chant to the point he knew it by heart.

Sneaking out of his dorm, he Disillusioned himself and silenced his clothes and shoes before creeping down to the room he had prepared. Back in the old days, Beauxbatons had a class on Rituals that was mandatory for all non-magical born students. It was outlawed by the French Ministry in the 1800's after several students did irreparable damage to themselves by attempting rituals they had created.

The room that had been used by the students to go through the rituals still existed. It had long been forgotten due to disuse, but when he had checked the wards, they were still as strong as ever, showing no degradation despite the passage of time.

He had inadvertently learned of its existence from a book in the library that he had been using to learn the history of Beauxbatons. The book in question had described the earlier formation of the school wards and what all it protected. His initial plan of conducting the ritual in the forest was scrapped almost immediately, seeing as the wards would detect the spike of magical energy and immediately alert the Headmistress.

He had been about to close and return the book to its place when he saw the small footnote at the bottom of the page. It mentioned a room the warders purposely avoided because it was used to teach a subject that might have unpredictable reactions to any external magic. That led to his discovery of the ritual room and its location.

He slowly made his way down the stairs to the basement, where the room was located. Entering the room, he tapped his wand to the rune cluster next to it, sealing it off from the outside. In the center, the runic circle he had painstakingly drawn with his own blood lay undisturbed. Walking towards it, he placed the Blood-Replenishing Potion right next to it so he could easily reach for it once he was finished.

He looked at the small clock he had kept near the circle to ensure his starting time was precise. It showed 7:00 on the dot. Dispelling the stasis charm on the vial of Morgana's blood, he disrobed and grabbed his ritual knife before taking his place at the center of the circle. The second hand ticked slowly, with the minute hand slowly encroaching towards the seventh minute.

He recited the words several times in his head as only the sound of his breath and the ticking of the clock resounded in the room. Upon reaching 30 seconds before the start time, he took a deep breath and prepared himself. This was a crucial ritual that would affect his blood, and there was no telling what could happen if he messed it up.

'Well, here goes nothing' was his last thought before the final few seconds till 7:07. The moment the second hand pointed straight up, he began the chant.

"Mater Magica, audite mea vocant. Voco vos ad iudicem a me, ut quaesitor statera (Mother Magic, hear my call. I call you to judge me as a seeker of balance.)"

The circle lit up, throwing a blood red glow onto the walls of the ritual room. The magic in the air stirred as he finished the first line.

"Ego pignus me tueri contra filios mala Chaos (I pledge myself to protect your children against the evils of Chaos.)"

The circle grew brighter, slightly blinding him with its intensity. He took the ritual knife and cut both his palms deeply. Placing the knife down, he kept his arms relaxed at the side, letting the rivulets of blood fall onto the circle.

"Ego pignus meum sanguinem, et magia ad tuendam sanctitatis anima mea (I pledge on my blood and magic to protect the sanctity of my soul.)"

The room shook slightly as the surrounding magic roiled and a light wind started blowing through the room. Archer continued as if in a trance, ignoring the changes around him.

"Ego pignus me adjuvaret bona et traditiones Domus Le Fay (I pledge myself to uphold the values and traditions of the House Le Fay.)"

He unstoppered the vial and gradually poured the crimson liquid onto the circle.

"Cum hoc sanguinem meum a proavorum, ego vocare eos iudicare meam dignitatem (With this blood from my ancestor, I summon them to judge my worthiness.)"

The blood he poured boiled slightly as it shifted to combine with the blood he had shed previously. A shining white ball of magic started forming in front of him. It grew as time passed, taking on a humanoid shape.

More changes occurred as the figure's features became slightly more defined until he saw the specter of Morgana standing in front of him. Her imperious gaze pierced his soul as her eyes glowed bright purple. The situation reminded him of the time she bestowed the title of Prince Le Fay onto him in the Peverell vault.

"Ego iudicabo vos esse dignum Domus Le Fay. Ite et adducite honorem nostrum nomen semel, iuvenis princeps Le Fay. Ut Mater Magica dux tibi magnitudo (I judge you to be worthy of House Le Fay. Go forth and bring honor to our name once more, young Prince Le Fay. May Mother Magic guide you to greatness.)"

Morgana dissolved into several motes of light which rushed towards him. The combination of his own blood and the blood he used to summon Morgana traveled up his feet and started forming a red cocoon around him.

Before he knew it, he was encased in a hard shell and there was a roaring sound in his ears. He couldn't move and he didn't know what was happening, as Morgana couldn't explain the entire ritual to him due to certain Oaths. He closed his eyes and relaxed as he retreated into his mind. At least he was confident that the ritual had gone off without a hitch.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he felt a small heat encompassing him. It slowly grew in intensity until the shell started to crack. In a grand burst of fire, the shell was broken and incinerated signaling his rebirth as the Prince Le Fay. Pain overtook his senses as he fell backwards, completely exhausted.

'I did it, Morgana. I'm now the true Prince Le Fay' was his last thought as he lost consciousness.

At the same time the blood cocoon around Archer shattered, far away in Great Britain, Sirius Black and his wife were enjoying their traditional Sunday dinner with the Potters. After Rose started Hogwarts, James had rejoined the Ministry as a Hit-Wizard. Partnering with Sirius once more, they had quickly demonstrated that the teamwork they had been famous for during the war was as deadly as ever.

Their wives had encouraged having a weekly dinner where they traded gossip and chatted about their lives. It helped keep their minds of the children, who were no doubt up to their usual mischief in Hogwarts.

These dinners had become something both families had come to rely on when they heard the news of Voldemort possessing Quirinus Quirrell and attacking Rose. Learning he was alive had brought up numerous past traumas they had suffered. In a way, the weekly dinners became a therapeutic outlet for them to talk about their worries for the future and plan on how to deal with them.

Sirius was in the middle of lightening the mood with a joke he heard at work when his ring started buzzing excitedly. It lit up as the raven totem of the Black family manifested in front of him. Its sudden appearance stunned everyone in the room.

He felt a nudge in the back of his mind. Something had changed and the family magic was trying to tell him what it was. He made a quick excuse before getting up from the table.

"Excuse me. I must check on something immediately. I'll be right back."

He briskly walked over to the Floo in the living room and grabbed a handful of Floo powder, throwing it into the fire.

"12 Grimmauld Place!" He clearly shouted before rushing into the billowing green flames.

He spun through the Floo Network, careening towards his destination. The fireplace at 12 Grimmauld Place, the ancestral home of the Black family flared to life. Sirius stepped out and absentmindedly withdrew his wand and vanished any soot that might have been on his clothes. The raven flew out of his body and went upstairs, asking him to follow it.

The call of the magic got stronger as he neared his destination. Opening the door, he made his way towards the tapestry that was mounted on the wall. Numerous scorch marks dotted the surface, displaying the evidence of his deceased mother's madness.

His eyes flickered over the many names. Something had changed on this tapestry. That was what the family magic was trying to tell him. He went down the generations and followed the line down his grandfather's branch. It showed his father Orion and two lines, one of which led to a picture of his younger brother Regulus Black II, while the other was charred.

Not seeing what he was looking for, he went to the branch adjacent to his grandfather's. His maternal grandfather Pollux and his wife Irma, along with their three children were all displayed. Seeing nothing there, he moved to the next person in the same generation. That was when he saw it.

A line that initially wasn't there now prominently joined one Cassiopeia Black and a blank figure that had appeared next to her. It led down to another blank leaf.

It did not show any information other than the figure of a female. This meant that his Aunt Cassiopeia had given birth to a daughter. Underneath the daughter's leaf was another blank leaf, except this one showed the figure of a male. The daughter had given birth to a son.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he noticed something different about the son's leaf. There was a distinct mark of a raven on top of it. Whoever this mystery grandson of his Aunt was, he was the new Heir Primus of the Black family. Someone he hadn't even known existed had suddenly become first in the line of succession.

Recovering from his shock, he tried to think about what to do next. Should he confront his Aunt as the Lord Black? No, she had been one of the few in the family to never fear his grandfather, and that man was much scarier than he was.

Sirius snapped his fingers. That was it! He needed to inform his grandfather.

Rushing back downstairs, he walked up to the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

"Phineas Nigellus Black, the Lord Black has need of your services."

The sleeping portrait stirred and crankily muttered. "Kids these days. No respect for their elders." He gave a dramatic sigh. "What do you require of me, Lord Black?"

Sirius stifled a chuckle at his ancestor's antics. "I need you to go to your frame at Blackmoor Castle and call for my grandfather. Tell him it's regarding family matters, and I request his presence at Grimmauld as soon as possible."

The portrait bowed. "It will be done, Lord Black."

"Thank you, Phineas."

Phineas walked out of his portrait and Sirius sat down in the living room, awaiting his grandfather's arrival. After several minutes, the Floo flared to life as an elderly gentleman dressed in all black walked out of the fireplace with a scowl on his face.

"This better be as important as you made it sound, brat. If you disturbed my sleep for some foolish reason, Lord Black or no, I will bend you over my knee."

Sirius shivered at the thought. He had the misfortune of experiencing that once and he wasn't in a rush to ever go through that ordeal again.

"Thank you for coming quickly, grandfather. I was at dinner with the Potter when the family magic alerted me to something. It led me to Grimmauld where I found out something potentially good for our family has occurred. It will be easier to show you, so follow me."

Arcturus saw how serious his grandson was, so he followed him without further complaint. The pair made their way to the tapestry room where Sirius stood in front and simply pointed at Cassiopeia's leaf. Arcturus followed his finger and audibly gasped.

'Cassiopeia had a child? When was this?' Unlike all the other leaves, hers was not showing any information, including the year of birth or death. For all he knew, she was still alive.

His eyes went down to the sole leaf beneath the previously unknown daughter and his eyes widened in disbelief upon seeing the mark of the raven. "Cassiopeia's grandson is the new Heir Primus?"

Sirius nodded mutely.

Arcturus' mind was whirling with the possibilities. Cassiopeia was a proud daughter of the Blacks. There had to be a reason why his dear cousin had chosen to use the family magic to prevent her children from showing up on the tapestry. Whatever the reason was, they both needed to find out, as the future of the Black family rested on the shoulders of her grandson.

"Sirius, follow me." Arcturus gruffly commanded as they made their way to the Floo. One way or another, he would get answers from his cousin.

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder he yelled out their destination and threw it into the fire. "Schwarzdorne Herrenhaus (Blackthorn Manor)!"

The green flames billowed wildly as he and Sirius both stepped through. International Floo trips were significantly more uncomfortable than domestic ones. Arcturus had taught Sirius the trick to making sure he closed his eyes to avoid motion sickness and predict the timing of his exit to ensure he wasn't shot out of the Floo onto his arse.

While Blackthorn Manor was an extremely well-fortified property with extensive wards to prevent people from entering without permission, Sirius' Lord ring ensured they were given passage.

They stepped out of the Floo and looked around. The Manor looked to be in pristine condition. It was clean and maintained, yet there was a sense of emptiness. It was as if no one had been entertained in the living room for decades.

Before he could ask his grandfather what they were doing, a black spell came barreling towards them from the shadows. It was a good thing Sirius was a Hit-Wizard who had kept up his training, as his honed reflexes were the only thing that saved him.

An airy female voice called out to them. "You are trespassing on the property of the Black family. Surrender yourselves immediately, or you shall perish."

Arcturus spoke while Sirius recovered from the ambush. "Cassiopeia, relax. It's me, your dear cousin along with your favorite nephew."

From the shadows, a tall and lean figure emerged. "Arcturus? Sirius? To what do I owe such an impromptu late-night visit?"

Arcturus huffed. "Don't pretend you don't know why we're here Cassie. The jig is up, as they say. Did you think you could hide it forever?"

Cassiopeia did not react to the taunt at all. "I have no idea what you're on about, Arty. However, seeing as you and the Lord Black have decided to grace me with your presence, I must first offer proper courtesies."

She walked over and gestured to the sofa and armchairs. "Please have a seat. Would you like any refreshments?"

Sirius was the first to walk over and sit down. "I would like some water. Also, please prepare a bottle of Firewhiskey and three glasses. I have a feeling the conversation will require it."

Arcturus stood where he was with narrowed eyes. He knew that Cassiopeia had an idea of why they were there. Of course, being one of the most formidable witches in the Black family, she was not going to give up the information without a fight.

He grunted and gave her a nod in acceptance as he moved towards the sofa Sirius was sitting on. "Nothing for me, thank you."

Cassiopeia called a house elf. "Topsy."

An excited elf popped into the room. "What will you be needing, Miss Cassie?"

"A glass of water with the pitcher. Along with three tumblers and our finest bottle of Ogden's."

The elf gave a low bow before snapping its finger, making a pitcher of water and a glass appear in front of Sirius. It then popped away to fulfill the other request while Cassiopeia took her seat across from them. Her wand never left her hand.

"So, would either of you like to tell me why you have deigned to visit little old me? I thought I had been forgotten after all this time."

Arcturus tried to speak, but Sirius silenced him with a glare. Turning to her, he spoke. "It is good to see you after all this time, Aunt Cassiopeia. How are you doing these days?"

Cassiopeia gave him a small smile. "I am doing as well as can be, Sirius. I have my research to keep me occupied and I occasionally teach for a year to take a break."

Sirius smiled happily. "It is good to hear that, Aunt Cassie. If I may ask, where and what do you teach?"

Cassiopeia gave a sly grin. "I teach here and there, but my topic is usually educating young minds about the Dark Arts. I am one of the foremost scholars on the subject, as you well know."

Sirius lightly gulped. He did know. His Aunt Cassiopeia had been the one who taught his cousin Bellatrix everything she knew. To this day, despite losing her sanity in service to Voldemort, Bella was still one of the most formidable duellists in Europe. She wouldn't have been half as skilled if not for his Aunt's personal instruction.

Arcturus had finally had enough of their dancing around and decided to get to the point. "Cassiopeia, we discovered a change in the family tapestry at Grimmauld. It showed you had a daughter. Why did you hide her existence from the family?"

Cassiopeia stiffened before looking down. "I did it to protect her, Arty. During a time in my life when I made so many mistakes, she was the only good thing to come out of it. I had hoped to raise her in a world where she wouldn't have to hide her magic. Sadly, it was not meant to be."

Sirius looked a little lost at the conversation. Obviously, there was some hidden context he was missing. "What do you mean, Aunt Cassie? What period of your life are you referring to?"

Cassiopeia looked at him in surprise before glancing at Arcturus. "You didn't tell him, Arty? I would have thought once he inherited the Black Lordship, you would inform him why I isolated myself from the family."

Arcturus pinched the bridge of his nose while sighing. "I never saw any reason to. It was not like you attended any of the family functions save the funerals for a couple of hours. It also never came up in conversation, as you retreated from society at large."

Turning to Sirius, he spoke. "I guess you are entitled to hear the unabridged story of your aunt's youth. She graduated Hogwarts after the first muggle World War. Her interest in the Dark Arts took her all over the Continent, learning from some of the most skilled practitioners of the field.

There she met and took up the banner of a charismatic and powerful warlock. He went on to gain the title of Dark Lord Grindelwald, the man who started the Global Wizarding War to subjugate the muggles.

Cassiopeia entered his inner circle and proved to be deadly on the battlefield. She initially didn't tell any of us what exactly she was doing in Europe but assured us that she was safe. My father, who was the Lord Black at the time, felt no need to recall her to Britain. After he passed, I took on the mantle of Lord Black right around the time Britain decided to send reinforcements to the Continent.

Imagine my surprise when I saw her on the opposite side of the battlefield. She took the initiative and caught me off guard. She was extremely skilled, and in my unwillingness to spill Black blood, I ended up being badly injured.

After that, I didn't meet her again for another 4 years. I was much better prepared for our second encounter, as I had planned it out ahead of time. I knew I couldn't match her duelling experience, but I had something in my arsenal that she didn't. The family magic.

Our second duel was a short one, as I called upon the raven to punish her for daring to attack her Lord. She was bound by the family magic, and there was no way for her to fight. I poured a vial of Draught of Living Death down her throat and secreted her away from her allies to our villa in France.

She stayed in suspension for the duration of the war, and only after Dumbledore managed to defeat Grindelwald, did I wake her."

Sirius was dumbstruck by what he had just heard. His aunt had been a part of Gellert Grindelwald's inner circle? No wonder she had hidden away after her side lost.

Cassiopeia took over the story. "After Arcturus woke me up, I was despondent. I had lost myself in the haze and in the process, spilled rivers of magical blood. Some of the things I did in my time with the Alliance still haunt me to this day.

I asked Arcturus to kill me, letting me die a somewhat honorable death, but he chose to spare me out of some misguided sense of responsibility. After that, I took up residence in this property and stuck to my research in the Dark Arts.

The only time I left was when Pollux begged me to train Bellatrix. I agreed almost immediately upon meeting her. She reminded me a lot of myself when I was her age, and I saw it as an opportunity to repent for my sins during the war. Her strength would also be a blessing to the House of Black, so I taught her almost everything I knew, hoping that she wouldn't make the same mistakes I made."

Cassiopeia scowled as she continued. "Then she went and joined that half-blood upstart Voldemort. I don't know what happened, but she was forever changed once she came back from one of their 'raids'. The girl I had dedicated so many years of my life to had disappeared, and in her place, was a monster.

I heard of her actions during the Blood War. It was why I left the family for good and decided to live out the end of my days in this dreary home."

Her eyes teared up as she sniffed lightly. "Another reason was that I could secretly keep track of my daughter, my darling Celeste. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. Her father was a Muggleborn I had met during an Alliance rally. Arthur was so handsome and charming, I couldn't help but fall in love with him.

I dreamed every night of us living as a family once the war was won. He was such a gentle soul, always wanting to do good by me and her. He died covering our escape from an ICW ambush in our Headquarters, and I was completely lost afterward.

I knew that the family would never accept her due to her blood status. Her life was all I cared about, so I did the hardest thing I ever had to do and gave her up. It was a good thing too, as I had no idea whether she would have survived my elder brother's anger."

Arcturus cleared his throat. "That wouldn't have happened Cassie. Your daughter may have been a half-blood, but the blood of the Black family still ran through her veins. We would have accepted her if only you had told us."

Cassie snorted. "Don't lie to me, Arcturus. You were just as much of a blood supremacist if not more so than Pollux. You mellowed out in your old age.

Sirius might not know how you were when you were younger, but I remember clearly. My daughter's life would have been threatened and don't you dare try to deny it."

Arcturus sighed deeply before reaching for a tumbler and opening the bottle of Firewhiskey that had appeared during their conversation. Oh he liked to think that he would have been better, but he knew she was correct in her assumption. He hadn't been nearly as accepting in his youth as he was now. Cassiopeia had made the right decision, and it hurt him to realize that.

He poured himself a dram before taking a large sip. A pleasant heat built up in his abdomen and traveled up his throat as he lightly exhaled a small plume of fire. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself, and spoke softly.

"Alright Cassiopeia. I can admit that you did the right thing, but I want to know how you hid her from the tapestry. It should be impossible as anyone with a smidgeon of the family magic will show up on it."

Cassiopeia looked like the cat that ate the canary. "That depends. How much is that information worth to you?"

Scowling, Arcturus replied. "You're really going to try and bargain with me?"

"Yes." A short and sweet reply was all he got.

"Fine. I have a unique and rare book on some ancient Dark rituals from the early 1800's in my personal collection. Will that suffice?"

"Perfectly. The tapestry relies on blood magic to detect the existence of new Blacks. Should they awaken the family magic, it would be able to also report on the death of any member of the House of Black based on whether the family magic still tied them to the House.

I devised a blood ritual that allowed me to use Arthur's blood to suppress and conceal Celeste's existence from the tapestry. Before I gave her to the orphanage, I used another blood-based ritual to conceal her true appearance, hiding any evidence that she was my daughter.

I made my fair share of enemies during the war with how many people I killed. If they learned that I had a daughter, they wouldn't have hesitated to kill her to get back at me. So one night I snuck out of Nurmengard with Celeste, and Apparated all the way to Paris, deep inside enemy territory, and left her at a local orphanage. I made sure to donate a decent amount of money to ensure that she and the other children would be well cared for.

Once I said my goodbyes, I Apparated back to Nurmengard and Arcturus drugged and spirited me away barely a week later. When I first arrived here, I used the network I had built up to learn more about her life."

Cassiopeia took a tumbler and filled it halfway before gulping it down. Her shoulder shuddered as tears ran down her face. She struggled to continue as her breath hitched. Nevertheless, she kept going.

"She grew up to be a beautiful young woman. She was powerful too, and received an acceptance letter to Beauxbatons, where she met her future husband. He was an orphan of Italian ancestry who lost his parents during the war.

They bonded over their shared experiences and got married in 1978, in a magical temple in Rome. It was a private ceremony, and they shared their marriage vows in front of a statue of Venus. I witnessed it using scrying magic, and I was so tempted to meet her and congratulate them in person.

I held myself back at the last moment, thinking that she had found happiness, and I didn't have any right to interfere with her life ever since I gave her up that night. I stuck to protecting her and her husband from the shadows, but my efforts were for naught.

Her husband was killed in a Death Eater attack in Paris, and she was left all alone. After that horrible event, she completely disappeared, and none of my contacts could locate her. A year later, I learned that my enemies had finally learned of her existence and killed her in retaliation for my actions in the war."

Her tone turned dark and foreboding. "I was furious. If they had tried to kill me, I wouldn't have minded, but they had taken the one thing I still lived for. It was unacceptable to me, so I took revenge on them for killing my precious daughter. I taught them what happens to those who dared to cross Cassiopeia Black.

I covered my tracks well. Not a single person knew who had slaughtered those families and they were too scared of incurring the wrath of the killer themselves. I came back home that day wanting to end my misery once and for all. I had a vial of Mortis Amplectu in my hand and was about to imbibe it when something stopped me.

I don't know why, or how, but I somehow managed to partially regain my will to live. I struggled in the aftermath. Some days were good, others had me rethinking my decision to live on. I buried myself in research to distract from the pain. Not a day goes by that I don't think about her."

Silence reigned as Cassiopeia described her deceased daughter's life and the suicide attempt that followed. Arcturus was struggling to keep calm as his hand tremored. Learning how close his dear cousin had been to ending her life was painful to hear.

He had been Lord Black during that time. He had willingly fallen out of contact and never bothered to reach out other than to invite her to the funerals of several close family members. If she had taken her life… He didn't want to think about how that would have affected him.

Sirius poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey which he downed in one gulp as he tried to process what he had heard. It hurt deeply to find out that his favorite aunt, who had always accepted him for who he was, tried to kill herself. He felt the knowledge weighing down on him as he tried to come to terms with it.

There was a time when he too had considered taking a shortcut to the next great adventure. His Aunt Cassiopeia and Uncle Alphard had been the ones who had reached out and convinced him that things would get better. Now, he was married to the love of his life, and had a beautiful daughter who was the apple of his eye. He couldn't imagine his life without them.

Looking at the sobbing figure of his aunt, he decided to try and give her the same hope she had given him at his lowest. "Aunt Cassie. You do have a reason to live, as you are not alone."

Cassiopeia sniffled while wiping her eyes. "What are you talking about, Sirius?"

"What I'm saying is that my cousin Celeste gave birth before she was killed. You have a grandson that is still alive, Aunt Cassie."

Cassiopeia went still. "No. That's not possible" she whispered disbelievingly.

Arcturus interjected. "He's the reason we found out about your daughter, Cassiopeia. The family magic informed Sirius that the House of Black had a new Heir Primus. That was what led us to seeking you out."

"Heir Primus? My grandson? How is that possible? I ensured that the Black family magic was suppressed before giving Celeste away. There was no way it could manifest in her son."

"As of right now, the tapestry only shows a blank male figure. Can you dispel the magic so we can find out about your grandson's identity and locate him?" Sirius asked.

Cassiopeia shook her head. "The ritual I devised was foolproof. I made it so that nobody in the Black family could ever dispel it. Otherwise, Celeste might have been discovered. The only way it would have dispelled itself is if… No. It can't be" she gasped.

"What is it?" Arcturus worriedly inquired.

"The only way it could be dispelled is if my grandson took on the title of a family with primacy over the Blacks. There's only one family that holds that position." She spoke while staring at Arcturus.

Arcturus' eyes widened. "The Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell" he whispered, almost reverently.

Sirius looked at their interaction in confusion. "Peverell? Like the Tale of the Three Brothers?"

Arcturus was jolted out of his thoughts. "The very ones. In fact, our very first ancestor, Arcturus Black I, was born Antioch Peverell. The eldest of the three brothers of legend. The one who received the Elder Wand from Death itself. Though, that story was a load of nonsense."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.

"What he means is that the legend you grew up with is nothing but that. A tall tale woven by the three brothers for the express purpose of saving their family. The Peverells were feared by all due to their rich history and powerful family magic. In the time of Antioch, the house had fallen on hard times, and the wolves were circling in the periphery, looking for a sign of weakness.

To secure the legacy of the family, Antioch, along with his brothers Cadmus and Ignotus, hatched a cunning plan. The elder two would fake their deaths and start new families that would become cadet lines to the House of Peverell.

Ignotus would act as a decoy, to show the world that they had weakened and were not worthy of being attacked or feared. His line eventually ended with a granddaughter, Iolanthe, who married into the family that became the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter.

Antioch faked his death as planned and settled down in the village of Blackmoor. There he took on the identity of Arcturus Black, first of his name, and built the foundations that would see us become one of the oldest Pureblood houses in all of Britain.

His younger brother Cadmus left Britain altogether and traveled the world. He settled in India and earned a name from the local populace that would go on to influence Magical Britain several centuries later. You, my dear Sirius, along with all Blacks, are related to the legendary Salazar Slytherin."

Sirius' jaw dropped at the bombshell she dropped. He was related to one of the founders of Hogwarts. The same one that Voldemort was related to no less!

Arcturus gave a deep chuckle. "Don't look so surprised, brat. There was a reason why the Black family was predisposed to Slytherin House. Ties of blood to a founder does have a large effect on the sorting process. You and your daughter are the only ones to buck the tradition and be sorted into Gryffindor."

"I cannot believe that I have a grandson. It fits the timeline though, from when her husband died to the day she was killed. She could have given birth. There was simply nothing for my contacts to go on, as Celeste must have given birth to him in secret. Otherwise, there would be some paper trail to follow."

"Cassie, reach out to all of your contacts and try to find him. We must locate and retrieve him as soon as possible. The family's future depends on it. I will not have that brown-nosing prick Lucius Malfoy and his spawn steal the legacy of our ancestors out from under us." Arcturus resolutely declared.

"Don��t worry, I will mobilize every resource I can to find him." Cassiopeia gave her word, fierce determination and newfound hope in her eyes.

"You have my complete support in your search, Aunt Cassie. Let me know if you need anything, and I'll make it happen." Sirius pledged.

Cassiopeia nodded. "Thank you, Sirius. I will start immediately. When we find him, all I ask is that you let me contact him first. Before we involve any House business, I want to meet him as his grandmother."

Both men agreed. They could tell she needed this.

After seeing them off, Cassiopeia made her way to her study and tapped her wand to a hidden rune cluster on the side of her writing desk. A small pulse of her magic caused a hidden compartment to pop out. Reaching inside, she retrieved a black leather journal.

Opening it, she started going down a list of names along with individual dossiers. This was her little black book, which contained blackmail material on nearly every major politician and magical house in Europe. Her time under Gellert had not been only spent inflicting pain and death to others.

He had been a masterful manipulator, who had built a robust information network that allowed him to bribe and blackmail any politician who had stood in his way. The entire German Ministry had fallen to his ploys and power grabs. A little information leaked at just the right time to cause a scandal large enough to oust a bureaucrat from his position, allowing Gellert to replace them with a loyal supporter of his cause.

If there was anything the man had taught her, it was that everyone had skeletons in their closet. Knowing how to use that information was an artform that could only be learned and honed through practice.

After nearly 40 years playing the Great Game, as she called it, she could probably be considered one of the few Grandmasters in the art of politics. At the very least she was no less skillful than Albus Dumbledore himself.

She would find her grandson, even if she had to go call in every favor she was owed. It would all be worth it to meet him. She had abandoned Celeste in her time of need. There was no way she would make the same mistakes with her grandson, the last of her family.