Chapter 69: To Walk With Death

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14 August 1992, Diagon Alley

"The truth is, with most of my descendants either dead or in Azkaban, I need to find an heir. There are a few candidates that are suitable to be the next head of the Black family. You have proven your worth in Hogwarts and, I just had to see it for myself. I have to say, so far, I am not disappointed."

Harry's answer was simply gaping at what the man had just revealed.

It took a few seconds for the Potter scion to recollect himself, "You want me to be your heir?"

"Oh, by the powers no," the Black patriarch responded with a snort, "I'm just here to get a measure of you, to see if you would be a good fit."

"And… What do you think?"

"Kid, the Black family headship is something that people have coveted for centuries. I never expected my family to implode the way it did when I stepped down and gave reigns to my son. Our family is old and very powerful. We have access to knowledge that has been lost many times over during the purges. Our family crest contains enough information about forbidden magics that could shake the very foundations of our world. We are the only family with a member that reached the very root of magic itself, something every mage worth wanted to achieve. Dark lords and Light lords alike have vied for our legacy, and we have protected it for thousands of years. I will not give away the legacy of my ancestors on a whim. I will test you; I will observe you day and night, and I will make my judgement. Should I find you unworthy, you will never see me again."

Harry stiffened and murmured, "The root of magic?"

The man chuckled, "You're curious. That's good, very good indeed. After centuries of research, it was concluded that magic has a source, an origin, outside of time and space. One of my ancestors long ago managed to uncover it and reach it for a fraction of a second, but the knowledge he had gained when he glimpsed at this mythical source was otherworldly. He became the first chronomancer, known nowadays as Kronos. He disappeared after a while, whether it's by choice or not, no one knows. But reports say that he was able to see multiple futures at once, change the very course of destiny, affect the fulfilment of prophecies, and so much more. He was the first Black, the creator of the first magical crest, even if it was filled with a pittance of his true knowledge. After the man disappeared, countless descendants tried to replicate his experiment but were barred from entry. Magic remembered the path he took and fixed it. This was the start of an arms race, the very purpose of every wizard and witch for thousands of years, reaching the mythical root of all magic and earning its blessing."

"But why isn't it a thing nowadays?" Harry couldn't help but ponder.

"Albus Dumbledore," the man's grey eyes were practically growing from the sheer hate he held for the man, "he destroyed our society without any of us noticing. We are meant to be explorers of the unknown. Our purpose is to experiment, to enhance our knowledge to allow the next generation to have a chance of reaching the mythical root. Slowly, with his reforms, he banned many fields of magic, he turned Hogwarts into a place where the study of new magic is not encouraged, and he turned our heirs lazy. I and like-minded individuals formed a group to oppose him, the Knights of Walpurgis. We fought him on the political scene and were partially successful in evading him. Of course, we failed to see the effect of his efforts on our heirs. And that damnable fake Dark Lord convinced them to join his camp after we retired. The Knights of Walpurgis turned into the Death Eaters, and well, no one was able to stop Dumbledore anymore. Our heirs had turned into nothing more than savages, slaves to their desire to cause pain and misery, and we stood aside helpless to stop it. Our heirs forgot what it meant to be wizards. To be a mage is to walk with death, and yet the entire magical world became content in wallowing in their mediocrity."

The man looked mournful at saying this. But some of his knowledge was terrifying. The very existence of Kronos as a true Chronomancer was very disturbing. Someone capable of affecting fate in any measure was scary, capable of seeing timelines and go back and forward in it, that was just ridiculous. Harry definitely didn't know anything that could frighten him this way. Although the existence of a root of magic had a lot of connotations. If it was outside of Time and Space, then how did Kronos reach it in the first place? And if magic originated from outside the physical world, then how did it spread? And if it could remember and block the last intrusion, did that mean that there was sentience to magic?

Arcturus Black seemed to be amused at Harry's pondering expression, "I see it now. You're not like the other children, are you? You want to understand magic, to research it, not just use it. You're far above your peers, not because of some sense of honour or duty, but only because you're curious. Oh, you would have been wonderful if I had just gotten to you when you were younger. I would have raised you as a proper mage, with proper education, instead of the muggle nonsense you had to endure. You were able to catch up rather easily. If you continue down this road, I can see myself choosing you."

Harry hesitated for a moment, before answering, "But I can't hold the Black crest. I have one of my own. And you will know that there is no way a body can handle two crests at the same time."

The man's eye widened, "Huh, the Potter crest. It's surprisingly picky with its holders. Charlus told me that it practically refused him, outside a few potions and a few battle spells. Although he could have been lying, the details of magical crests were very private family matters. Although, for some reason, your grandfather did loathe Grindelwald with a passion, enough to give away a fortune to help finance the campaigns against him. I had never seen him as afraid nor as dedicated as he was in the war. And even afterwards, he was still wary of Dumbledore, the man who killed Grindelwald who he fought with a passion. Your father, on the other hand, refused to unlock it, and so did Sirius to prove some sort of point to his mother. It's why they were called blood traitors. They refused their legacy, choosing to listen to the seductive words of their headmaster. But let's not speak ill of the deceased. I had hoped that you wouldn't have unlocked yours, but it is no matter. You can have the headship and have the crest stay dormant until you pass it on to one of your children. I only wish that you secure my legacy."

Harry hummed, "Out of curiosity, who are the other candidates?"

"There are a few scattered all over Europe, but I wish that my legacy remains in the country that we helped build. I will not reveal them, just I will not reveal your candidature to them, to keep things fair, and avoid sabotage."

Huh, understandable, but from what he could remember, Draco Malfoy was definitely a candidate, considering he's the man's great grandson. However, while the boy did have some potential, he was a bit too arrogant and self-assured to be handed away such a rich legacy. Maybe after he grows up and matures with the difficulties of life, he would be able to handle it. Longbottom could technically be a candidate, with his great grandmother being a Black, but he was Dumbledore's puppet, and the Black Patriarch would probably rather let his family legacy die than leave it at the hands of the headmaster. The Weasleys were out, of course, except maybe Bill, who was a very good curse breaker, if the stories were right. But he was too old to be given a new magical crest. After all, the preliminary magical maturity at thirteen was the deadline for getting a magical crest.

Still, Harry was fascinated with the concept of the root of all magic, and that was enough to make this conversation worthwhile. The Potter scion wanted to reach it. His main goal in life was to discover the mysteries of magic, and what better mystery was there than its very source? He needed to research it further, and also take a deeper look at his own magical crest. Yeah, he didn't know how his own irregular crest would react to a new one, even if it was dormant.

From the sound of it, Harry's grandfather had a very weakened version of the crest, which made him get a few potions out of it, but also a deep wariness towards Dumbledore and Grindelwald, the very instinctive wariness that Harry feels whenever he thinks of the headmaster. Did he know that they were hunting the Deathly Hallows, and thus their family was in danger? Oh, how Harry wished he could meet the man.

There was something missing, though, Sirius Black was dead. That wasn't supposed to happen according to the stories, and it was good that he had clocked it now instead of being surprised by it later, "What happened to your grandson, Sirius? And what do you know about the fire that killed my parents?"

The man's eyes turned mournful, "He died in the same fire as your parents did. After he ran away from his harpy of a mother, your grandparents took him in. After the dark lord hunted them down and killed them, they joined Dumbledore's order to fight him. Your father practically emptied his vault financing their campaign, and Dumbledore took advantage of that hatred. I don't know much about what happened in Godric's Hollow, only that it was a very large Death Eater attack that was targeted at your family. Sirius was fighting side by side with your father for hours, repelling Death Eaters, but they were being overwhelmed. Dumbledore was nowhere to be found, probably trying to deal with the aftermath of the Dark Lord's defeat at the hand of the Longbottom boy. Your mother was nowhere to be found, but after your father and Sirius died to a killing curse at the Lestrange's hand, the fire appeared from your bedroom, and disintegrated the entire village, with only you as the remaining survivor of the carnage. No one knows where that fire came from, or how it even worked. It wasn't even hot, it just consumed everything it touched. The Unspeakables have been trying to figure that one out for years, but no amount of scrying or divining could see anything past that. The few that used a time-turner either couldn't get inside the village, and those who directly tried to get inside either didn't survive the trip or just died in the fire. That's all I know."

Huh, that was a lot more information than the pittance Dumbledore had given him. Now that he knows more about what happened, Harry expected to feel some sort of closure, but all he had were questions. If his father and his – probable – godfather had died before fire, then what happened to his mother? Why did she stay behind? Dumbledore did say that the fire had her magical signature all over it, but no one would be able to cast something like this fire at just over twenty years of age. Lily Potter was a brilliant witch, but this was something that still baffles the Unspeakable. So, what happened?

The man sitting at his table seemed to age slightly, "I'm sorry for not getting involved in your life. I had lost a grandson, a granddaughter, and a nephew to this fire. It was so soon after the loss of my wife, Dorea's death, and Regulus' that I just decided to leave it behind for a while. I am glad you grew up into the man you are now, but still, to make amends, I'm offering you my help slightly. While I think you're happy with your living conditions, and the freedom it provides, I will fight on your behalf if you are caught. I will do my best to be your guardian if the ministry ever catches wind of your living situation. Is there anything else in particular that you need?"

Harry's eyes widened at the man's help. He didn't trust him, but he was grateful for the man's offer of assistance when it came to his living condition. While he wouldn't want to be formally under a stranger's mercy, if it protected him from Dumbledore, then it would be worth it. Still, he was happy where he was, and he had a backup plan in case he was caught. That was a relief. But when thinking about what was probably going to happen the following day, he had the opportunity to get an advantage. The Potter scion took a breath and answered, "I need everything you have on Basilisks."

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