Adjusting

1947, 23 October- Thursday.

In a span of three hours, he got more letters from owls. At least he knew how mail was delivered in this world now. It was strange seeing an owl up close. They were incredible and fascinating to look at, but the third owl that came was just right out creepy.

Supposedly, the owl was called Banshee, from what was written in the letter he received from Rome Macmillan, who is his cousin through his mother, which meant his mother's maiden name is Macmillan.

The name, 'Banshee,' seemed appropriate for the White owl that scared the living daylights out of him after it randomly began to screech at him as he was reading the letter his cousin sent.

Damn owl, nearly sent his soul back to his dead corpse.

It was nice to see Orion's friends cared about him. It was a shame he wasn't here to see it. He glanced to his side, where the opened journal was. He was still trying to get his head around it. It apparently reveals pages that the user wants.

At first, he thought it just showed random pages. However, when he began thinking about his family in his past life, flicking through the journal, many pages began to reveal themselves, all about family one way or another.

There were pages dedicated to different members of his family. He can confidently say Orion was slightly deranged. If he was writing ways, he wishes he could kill his cousin Cygnus- but other than that, Orion was practical, normal, to some extent.

Then again, the things said about one Walburga Black was worse than what was written for Cygnus. Orion was beyond the word paranoid about her. He didn't blame him… seeing as the bitch took advantage of him. His sister, Lucretia, was definitely right about the obsession thing Walburga had. Orion himself noticed it.

It was unsettling. She seduced a horny 14-year-old as an eighteen-year-old. Orion never told anyone again. He didn't blame him for not doing it.

He had some tendency to write poems.

'Death,

darkness descends,

a dying rose on the table, a blood-red cheek,

yet we sin.

Tortured, sordid.'

After reading that 'poem', he thought it would be best to close the journal and end the reading of it for the day.

'crack'

"Master! Solrey has gotten Master Orion the bookies!"

Orion sighed as he closed the journal shut, putting it on the table with the letters. He stood up, walking over to the coffee table, "Thank you, Solrey, you can put the on the table with the rest of the 'bookies'." He replied in amusement. Never had he seen someone so happy for being told what to do. He had already seen the library, which was better than he had anticipated it to be, with so many books; the room was large, with a tall ceiling that seemed to last for forever.

He had gotten a few books after spending a while scouring the books that were available and having Solrey just get specific books that held the information he wanted. Even coming back to his bedroom, he had Solrey go back with a few requests, to answer some questions he had.

He grabbed the first book on the pile from the new books that were brought. It was really handy having a whole sitting area in his room. Two couches and an armchair, right beside them was an archway to a mini-library. Well, it was more so a small room with all walls of the room shelved with books.

It was great because they had school books, as Solrey had said before.

'Pure of Blood' was what the book was called. Perhaps they were vampires in deciding with this obsession with blood.

As he flicked through the pages, he glanced at Solrey, "Do you know what happened to Walburga. Father and mother refused to speak of her."

Solrey had a thoughtful look on his face, "Bad Black is off tree! No more!"

Orion let the words process, 'off tree?' 'No more?' Is she dead or something? "Do you mean she's dead?" he questioned further, the opened book still in his hands. "No, no, death easy! Siri has taken her off the tree for her crimes against House of Black!"

He hummed. Perhaps he means she's been disowned. It made sense. The tree is a family tree, and she was taken off it, meaning she was disowned.

"Whose Siri?" he questioned again.

"Lord Sirius Phineas Black, Master Orion's grandfather!"

Perhaps that was the grandfather his father had mentioned before.

"Oh… does he live somewhere else? I haven't seen him." Orion spoke again, falling into his armchair, shifting into it, having just sat on the cushion.

"Yes, yes, Lord Siri lives in Black Manor but has been away in Germany- he should be back soon, after hearing of the recovery of Black heir."

Orion hummed in response, thinking of other things such as magic, the magic he now had. He won't deny it. He had experimented with it earlier. It was hard to stop when he started. It was simply foreign. It was a whole different experience, and it irked him that he didn't know what made it, how it was.

At first, he wasn't sure what to do to have it work. He had himself think back to the first time he truly experienced it, closing his eyes, imagining the atmosphere, and remembering what he had been feeling at that moment, which was confusion, panic, and sadness. He was scared.

The magic was a part of him.

Bodies respond to the way one thinks, feels and acts- When one is furious or terrified, the heart begins to pound against the lungs, and one may begin to breathe more quickly. When you're upset, you cry, others shout, while some fully shut down and feel helpless.

Magic was a part of it, responding to how one thinks and feels. His magic was lashing out, how he was feeling, acting as he wanted to act. He wanted to destroy the room. It was just how he felt at that moment, knowing he would never be able to go back.

Perhaps his emotions wouldn't have run wild like that, and he would have no complaints about this situation if he hadn't had family and friends in his past life.

It was hard not to think about them, wondering how they had reacted to his death, if they even missed him, or have they had easily forgotten of his existence, moving on with their lives?

He found it easier to use the magic… but controlling it was a different issue. It had its own mind, stubborn was what his magic was.

Levitating an object resulted in it smashing against the ceiling… and the ceiling was rather high. He tried moving his chair with his magic, but it ended up falling apart. Then he tried having it fixed, which ended up with more pieces.

He tried changing the colour of things, like his bedsheets. Let's say he didn't have bedsheets for about five minutes when he decided to call for Solrey.

1947, 24 October- Friday.

Tomorrow he was to meet his 'educator'. Madam Eloise Leron, a pureblood educator, who would be teaching all that he needed to know in his magical education, refreshing his memory. The healer had come the assumption that he remebred it all, just needed a refresher, seeing as he had some trouble naming things and explaining things as thoroughly as that would have been expected, then there was his heir etiquette. So far from what he had read on pureblood etiquette, it was normal for pureblood children to be raised by a governess until the age of eleven. It was also normal to have a tutor teaching them subjects that didn't require a wand until graduation.

They were taught a lot, from potions, magical theory, pureblood etiquette, basic runes, german, Latin and French, maths, literature and the history of magic. It ranges. Some might not learn them all and most likely did more, especially if you're an heir.

So it was most definitely that Orion had a governess who would have taught him the proper etiquette. He wasn't surprised at all. He was pretty sure it was common knowledge that nobles weren't hands-on parents, especially in the 1940s.

Why do something yourself when you can pay someone to do it? It was a brilliant idea. Instead of having to hold some screeching snotty kid, have someone else do it for you.

Having read what he had, it was all coming to him rather easily, which he would have to thank the original Orion for. Obviously, all of it was familiar to Orion, a sort of extra muscle that has muscle memory. His brain reminded itself of what it knows, refreshing it.

As his mind wandered through the different thoughts appearing and disappearing, he found himself snapping back into reality as he walked into something. His eyes widened as he saw the large vase fall forward before Orion could even react.

"Shit", he mumbled as he crouched down in from of the mess, trying to pick up the broken pieces only to drop them and hiss after being cut. "Well… isn't that lovely?"

He frowned as he stared at the blood gushing out of the jagged line across the palm of his right hand. It reminded him of the time he cut himself the first time in this body.

He sighed, both his hands resting over his thighs as he just stayed in his position, crouched there, unsure what to do- right, Solrey? He could do magic, disappearing and reappearing, surely fixing something should be as easy. He could try it himself… but who was to say he wouldn't make it worse.

He had walked down this hallway many times because it led to his bedroom, and he had always noticed this vase. It was lovely in its simplicity, much as how a canvas is just there to hold the art that has been meticulously done, enabling the flowers to take centre stage. The flowers that were now lying on the wooden floors were a delicate shade of purple, but it was the kind of colour that exuded confidence and pride in its ability to provide shine to the room.

"Orion?" he heard a voice call out to him. Panic overcame his emotions as he whipped his head back, staring at the corner he knew his mother would come from.

Turning back, he saw… well, the pieces? They were fixing back together- it was fixing itself. He shot up, standing straight, deciding he wouldn't question it, "So now you want to comply?" he muttered in annoyance, yet a hint of relief was there.

"Orion? Did you say something? I knew you came over here." His mother walked toward him as he glanced at the vase that held her favourite flowers. She looked to where he was staring.

"Lovely, isn't it? My niece got it for me. They're quite rare, both the vase and flowers."

Oh…

"And why are you clutching your hand like that! Did you hurt yourself, Orion?" she grabbed his hand, opening his palm, the cut… it was gone.

His magic was being really convenient.

"Hm? no, I didn't hurt myself." He told her.

"Right- now, your clothing! Perhaps you had been Imperiused to have worn these" she took a step back, scowling at his choice of clothing. "Orion! You simply cannot wear these two designers together. Just choose one. What in Merlin's name were you thinking?!"

Merlin?

"Right, what in Merlin's name was I thinking."

1947, 25 October- Saturday.

It didn't take long for his father to have someone educate him. Not long ago, the man was acting as if he hadn't just been at the hospital this week, and it wasn't bloody Monday. There were standing in one of the parlours the Manor had, standing in front of a fireplace, which Orion couldn't bring himself to ask why.

"She'll be teaching you until I deem the results plausible. I'm sure you'll catch on quickly, won't you, Orion?" his father told him as he was stood at his side.

Orion found himself curious one what the woman would begin with. It didn't really make sense to start with etiquette first, but it wouldn't be bad for her to start on it, only the surface of it, while she focused more on the magical aspect of her role in teaching him the basics of everything, gradually advancing on the topics.

He already knew he may have some trouble, though after learning all the subjects Orion had done at Hogwarts, he had gotten books on them all, learning the basics of them all, allowing him a better understanding of the underneath of what he would be learning.

Again it was easy to learn it, his brain soaking the information up like a sponge, which again proved to Orion that his brain was remembering what it already knew, and as he read what was on the pages, different information on those particular topics came up in his mind, some he didn't understand but some he was able to decipher the meaning of, from the basics he had read.

It felt as though he now had photographic memory.

"Yes, father, I will," Orion replied back, refraining from rolling his eyes. Nagging seemed to stay the same as in his previous world.

"Once she arrives, you will greet her first. Do I make myself clear?"

So he had to greet her? He would have just expected his father to do the greeting, which the woman would greet in return, then it would be his father to introduce him to the woman… not him greeting her first. Was this a test of his lack of manners thereof?

He couldn't believe he was going through with this all. The idea of being an heir to a Noble Household sounds enticing, but all Orion heard was money and status, when in reality, it was hard work and responsibilities.

He hasn't even explored the outside world yet, which he really wanted to do. He had been outside the manner, but what was there really other than gardens, statues and fountains. They were a nice view, but he wanted to see shops, other wizards and witches that aren't bloody 'mummy' and 'daddy.'

"Yes, father," Orion replied once again, his brows furrowing as he fixed the pieces together, so a fireplace was a type of transportation? How did it work? Was it similar to how Solrey can teleport, or how they used that 'portkey?' what other transportations did they have?

After finding the library the other day, he made a point to read anything he could about the wizarding world's history. Apparently, there was some dark wizard that was defeated just two years ago. Grindelwald, wasn't it? Well, that man.

He made sure not to react to how green flames erupted before revealing a person- it was shocking. He was still trying to process it all. He was surprised he hadn't had a panic attack yet. He just finds himself getting more confused by the minute when talking to either of his parents, even his elf.

He let out a low sigh, deciding how he should start it with. A simple Hello, wouldn't suffice. According to that book he had read, there were different ways to greet someone. It hadn't specified when to use such greetings, so he was hoping any could be used at any time.

He could feel his father's gaze on him as the woman stepped forward, staring at him.

It was his queue.

Don't mess this up.

"Well met, Madam Leron. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He awkwardly told the short woman. Her gaze was nerving. She looked just as old, older than his father at least.

He messed it up.

She had short dark hair, the ends of her hair slightly curved inwards, with dark eyes to match. Her robes were a brilliant green, rather distracting, really.

The silence was deafening until his father broke it. "Merlin, save us all." His father muttered before huffing, looking anywhere but at his son.

What?! What did he do now? He thought he did rather decent for the first time!

"Ah… I see what you mean now, Arcturus. A troubling case indeed. An heir to a Noble and ancient heir, greeting me like some filth of the streets of muggle London. You would think manners were to be muscle memory, but it would seem that was thrown out with the rest of his memories. Hopefully, the academic side of his brain is more active." She drawled as her eyes inspected him, only making him stand straighter.

"Apologies... Madam, though you will find yourself correct on the academic aspects of things..." He replied slowly, reminding her that he could hear her.

She scoffed, "Right, moving on. Tell me the words of your House."

He stared at her, his mouth parted as he tried to get his head around what she said before he turned to look at his father, who looked ready to be anywhere but there. "I'm not too sure, sorry." He replied after a few seconds of silence.

"Go on, try- you have to at least remember that."

Did she not know the meaning of having no memories?

He remembered reading about the Houses, but he wasn't sure if he had seen the House of Black. If he did, he would have remembered- wait, had he seen it? Perhaps he did. It could have been when he got slightly bored and began to skim over the rest.

He stayed silent for a moment, trying to find himself back where he had been when reading that book, Lestrange, Nott, Selwyn- Black, so he did skim past it.

The crest. He remembered seeing the crest as he passed it and two words underneath it like the rest of the houses had.

"Always pure?" he responded again. She hummed thoughtfully as she neared him, her hand patting his chest. "Bless your heart." She said- the tone she used had Orion knowing straight away, that she meant something else.

"Good enough, you translated it to English so that at least means you haven't forgotten the languages you're fluent in. Interesting how the brain works."

She moved towards his father, and he watched.

"Worry not, Arcturus. We have been good friends for a while. I will certainly fix the boy…" she trailed off, her head turning towards him, looking him up and down.

"Perhaps teach him how to put outfits together-"

He frowned immediately, looking down at the 'robes' he wore- what was wrong with them?! He thought he did a fantastic job, even with the boots!

"-Perhaps fix that strange posture of his. He'll be a proper pureblood gentleman, fit to have the family name of the House of Black." She turned back to his father once again, who was smiling in thanks.

"He'll be thanking me himself." She spoke again, rather confidently.

Finally, she turned back to Orion, "Dear, why don't you introduce yourself. That was something that your greeting lacked. After it is our first meeting, is it not." As she spoke, he noticed the look on his father's face, he wasn't sure what it meant, but it only made his father look more intensely at him, expecting something.

"I am Orion Arcturus Black, heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." He replied, then realisation dawned on him- they weren't speaking English. Was it Latin?

Muscle memory is a handy thing

"Thank Merlin for that", his father grunted out, "Thank you for doing this, Madam Leron." He directed at the woman.

"Of Lord Arcturus, it is my pleasure. Perhaps when we fix that posture of his we will begin with something simple, perhaps spells. We'll see if you're still familiar with using your wand."

1947, 28 October- Tuesday.

The Manor was rather large. It was as though every day he was seeing something new, discovering a new room. Well, it was because he was. Just the other day, he found the 'tapestry' room, a room that showed family members. They were having dinner in silence, the three of them, his father, his mother and himself.

"How have your lessons been with Madam Leron?" his mother asked him, her gaze set on him, which he met as he looked up from his plate. He chewed what was there in his mouth, finishing it. "Ah, it's been going fine, mother. I find myself rather good at absorbing the information given." He replied respectfully, nodding his head at her.

"That's good. I hadn't expected you to have so much done and learnt so soon," he heard his father drawl, "Do tell me, which house has the words, 'Corvus oculum corvi non eruit'" his father continued to speak, setting his cutlery down.

It had only been two days since his supposed 'lessons' had been gone with Madam Leron. He had two different lessons at different times yesterday, one in the morning, which lasted five hours with breaks in between, that started at 7am, ending at 12pm. The next lesson starts in the evening at 7pm, ending at 11pm.

He had another this morning and will soon have another this evening, after dinner.

"House of Lestrange, is it not?" replied from memory.

He wasn't sure how to explain it. Perhaps, 'photographic memory' was the way to put it, yet he didn't think that it was what it was, or maybe it was, it wasn't something he had before. Just reading the things he had been reading, having just stuck, all still in his mind, ready to be used and recited. He found himself understanding it to be Orion- the original Orion, merely remembering what it was he already knew, which made it easier for him to simply soak the information easily.

Reading things, he would get a feeling of 'I've seen this before,' yet he never had, though Orion would have.

He hoped the Orignal Orion was happy wherever he was. He was… Orion was suicidal. It was shocking to see all the things Orion had written. He wanted to know the true Orion, what he liked, what he hated- after all, he had stolen his life, one he didn't want. Surely Orion would be glad. It was saddening that Orion didn't feel as though he belonged.

With the journal, he would get to know him.

He saw his mother nod, pleased with the answer, while his father had no reaction, "Then you must know the meaning" his father spoke yet again.

"A crow will not pull out the eye of another crow", he translated for the man, not allowing him to catch him off guard. He had to impress the man if he wanted to meet with this 'Enrique'. Even so, just have him impressed so the sooner he'll be able to leave the Manor without a worry.

"Their family emblem?" the man spoke again, testing what Orion knew.

"A raven." Orion immediately replied.

"If someone of a high status greets you, what would be deemed inappropriate?" his father questioned him again.

"Moving to shake their hand if they had not yet had the first move."

His father hummed in response before asking another question, "I'll keep it simple. What colour is the potion of the shirking potion?"

"Green," Orion answered the question without a thought, as though it was second nature to answer questions without thought.

"What do you know of the 18th-century goblin rebellion?" Arcturus asked another question. The question was a rather easy one, in Arcturus's opinion. He was already made aware that such information Orion should know even with his 'amnesia' though there would be things he wouldn't know.

Hearing the question, Orion began to answer, "To put it simply, the goblin population of the wizarding world revolted against discrimination and prejudice toward their kind by wizards and witches. Urg, the Unclean, was an activist in this war. He and a goblin had a role in leading the rebellion. The war began during Albert Boot's term as Minister for Magic, starting in 1748 and ending in 1760."

Finally, the questioning stopped, and Orion decided to ask a question, something he was curious about after seeing the family tree. "I have a question." He started with. Before either his mother or father could respond, another voice responded.

"A question. I'm curious what it is little Orion has to ask." The voice wasn't one Orion was familiar with. He turned around to see a man. Old was what he would describe him as, he merely stared and stared like an idiot before he bowed his head respectfully, unsure who the man was, but from his clothing, it was obvious he was wealthy.

Were those buttons gold?

He had a pendant attack to the breast of his robe, one of the House of Black, so it was obvious he was a member of his family, and he just looked like his father and himself.

"You don't seem to know who I am… fascinating. I merely thought you were acting the fool when you said the boy lost his memories, Arcturus." The older man spoke again.

He was rather close… too close, all up in his face, staring right in Orion's eyes, which had him leaning backwards.

"Father", he heard Arcturus speak, his tone simply calm and respectful. "Sirius", he heard his mother speak as well, his tone as respectful. The man huffed dismissively as he finally backed away from Orion.

Ah, so his grandfather that Solrey had mentioned. "Greetings, grandfather. I heard you have been away in Germany. Was it pleasant enough?" Orion found himself asking.

"Germany? Yes, it was fine enough as it could be, better there than here." The man grumbled, "And you found out how?" the man spoke again.

"From my house-elf," he told him honestly, and the older man hummed.

"Where's that blasted elf of yours, Arcturus- TERRY!" his grandfather's voice sounded out loudly. Then an elf appeared, "How shall Terry serve Master?" the elf croaked out.

"Firewhiskey, a whole bottle." The man simply answered as he sat on the chair beside Orion. "Do you know what firewhiskey is, boy?" the man directed at Orion.

"…A fire of whiskey?" Orion replied slowly, not sure how to answer, his sarcasm light as can be.

He assumed it was a drink, seeing as he asked for a 'whole bottle', likely alcohol. He could already feel his father glaring at him as if he should have just stayed shut.

Which resulted in the man throwing his head back, laughing, "I think I like this Orion better," The man said in a hushed tone as his laughing seized, the bottle already in front of him with the elf disappearing.

"Father, you really shouldn't be drinking", Orion heard his father drawl. He didn't seem too worried about it. It sounded like he had to force himself to mention it, not caring that him doing it would have consequences, which Sirius promptly ignored.

"What a shame it is he has lost his memory. You better learn everything that is needed to know and fast. You can't keep the boy hidden within the Manor forever. We can't have that fool, Pollux demanding to make Alphard heir." Sirius spat out.

"It wouldn't matter if Pollux demanded such a thing. It simply wouldn't happen. You won't allow it, nor will I, father. Orion may have lost his memories, but that doesn't mean he won't regain them… if he doesn't, he can always relearn." Arcturus spoke.

Again Sirius huffed, "And his studies? His NEWTS? He's going to have to relearn everything while his classmates are working in the ministry or even abroad. The boy is stuck here- handicapped, that's what he is, a liability. How long will it take for him to relearn it all? I don't like the idea of Alphard becoming the heir. An idiot is what that boy is, in some sort of rebellion stage… perhaps Cygnus, though he still needs a lot of work. He's too much like Pollux, annoying little shits- not to even mention that girl Walburga. Pollux is lucky I didn't have him disowned as well if he hadn't proven he had no part in her schemes."

After going on a rant, Sirius turned to Orion again, "Can the boy even hold his wand, right?" he asked, then turned to Arctusu for an answer. Before Orion's father could respond, Sirius spoke again.

"Can the boy even cast spells? Does he remember them?" another question Sirius asked, which had both his parents looking at Orion with uncertainty on their faces.

Orion found himself getting nervous- would they have him do some spell?

"I know how to use my wand, grandfather." He replied confidently, hoping that would be the end of it.

Now that it was mentioned, where had he put the wand? It was most definitely in his room, perhaps on his desk… hopefully on his desk.

The man picked up the now empty bottle, holding its rim, "Right, refill this for me, will you then?" was Sirius' reply.

Refill? That was a thing… he glanced at both his parents and then his grandfather. He won't deny that he hadn't been practising using his magic- though his lessons with Madam Leron helped, watching her use her wand, and her small description of how it felt to use magic, how to use it as an extension of one's body.

He stared at the bottle, willing to do as he wished, concentrating Solrey on it and finally letting out a breath as he watched it refill. He had a confident smile as he congratulated and sheered within himself, but that enjoyment dimmed significantly when he met their gazes of confusion.

"Darling, we meant with your wand", his mother said slowly, surprise spread across her face as she procced her so using wandless magic, not having seen him do such before.

So, using magic without wands wasn't normal? He assumed it was something that the other wizards and witches could do.

"And with words- Orion, since when could you do wandless magic- forget wordless!" His father demanded.

"I don't know? I hope you all haven't forgotten I have amnesia. Perhaps I had reasons for not telling you, but at least you're all aware now?" only silence was heard after his response, only for it to be broken by his grandfather's laughter. He was the most amused by the situation.

1947, 29 October- Wednesday.

He stood there captivated by all the names, his second time in that particular room. Staring at the names of the current members of his 'family'. The tapestry room was where he was after finally figuring out what the scorch marks meant. It meant those members of the family had been disowned, as saddening as it was, some for stupid reasons, perhaps all were for stupid reasons.

Phineas Nigellus Black- 1846-1925, his name attached to another name, a branch reaching another name beside his, Ursula Nora Black née Flint- 1845-1935. His great-grandparents.

He glanced at the names beside them, which indicated that they were Phineas' siblings. He hummed, noticing that Phineas hadn't been the older sibling.

Sirius Pollux Black- 1845-1853, his great-great-uncle, who seemed to have passed away at the age of eight.

Elladora Cassiopeia Black-1850-1931, his great-great aunt.

There was another name, though there was a scorch mark resting about it. Isla Andromeda Black, his other great-great Aunt in the line of Black, it showed no date of birth or death, though it was clear she was the youngest of the four siblings, with the position of her name.

"Solrey", he called out.

'crack'

"Master!" the excited elf exclaimed, bouncing where he was.

"Isla Black… what was the reason for her disownment?" Orion questioned as his eyes were still set on the tapestry.

"Married a filthy muggle called Bob Hitchens," was the response he received. So she married someone she obviously loved if she went as far as being disowned by her own family, how ridiculous.

His great grandfather had had five children, with Orion's grandfather being the oldest.

Sirius Phineas Black-1877, the man was still alive and kicking, that was for sure. The man had married a Hesper Lorien Black née Gamp. The second sibling was also disowned, with the scorch mark proving it.

The name beside it was Phineas Socrates Black.

"Phineas the second?"

"Supported the muggles, Master!"

Moving to the next name, his great uncle, who was dead as it would seem.

Cygnus Alarcon Black- 1889-1943, married Violetta Ellaron Black, née Bulstrode. Together they had four children. Two of them were married, while one was currently unmarried and the other disowned.

Then there was Belvina Rena Burke, née Black, who married Herbert Arion Burke and had three children, two sons and a daughter.

The last sibling among them was Arcturus Theon Black- 1884, who was still alive. He married Lysandra Lora Black, née Yaxley and had three daughters.

Callidora Lysandra Longbottom, née Black- 1915, she married Harfang Alexander Longbottom and had two children, a son and a daughter.

The second daughter of Arcturus the second and Lysandra who disowned. Cedrella Annabeth Black.

"Cedrella?"

"Married a Weasley master, Septimus Weasley." He hummed at the response, so she was Cedrella Weasley, not Black.

The last daughter was Charis Talia Crouch, née Black- 1919. She was married to Casper Richard Crouch and has two children at the moment, a son and a daughter.

Moving back to Cygnus and Violetta Black and their children, Pollus was their first born.

Pollux Cygnus Black- 1912, his father's first cousin, making the man Orion's first cousin once removed- in a sense, his uncle, which would be the expected term. He married Imra Willow Black, née Crabbe. Together they had three children, his second cousins.

He snorted, seeing the name Walburga. Her's was scorched as well. Walburga Elladora Black.

Alphard Pollux Black- 1932 & Cygnus Aries Black- 1934.

Moving back up, the second child of Cygnus and Violetta was Cassiopeia Violetta Black- 1915, his first cousin once removed, better yet, his aunt.

The third sibling was scorched off, only the name remaining. Marius Jerome Black.

"Marius?" he said in a questioning tone, waiting for an answer from his elf.

"Squibby!"

A frown settled on his face, so a 'Squib'? Someone who was born within a magical family but they themselves didn't have that gift of magic. So, they disowned a child? Well, that's lovely, isn't it? The family really was mad. Perhaps that wouldn't be the case if he ever does become Lord Black. He would hardly kick his own child out because they didn't have magic. He wouldn't love them any less. They would be his blood, his family.

He felt sorry for Marius. He glanced to the next name, which was Dorea Morina Potter, née Black- 1920, married to Charlus Henry Potter.

This meant that Marius was born between the years 1915 and 1920, with his older sister being born in 1925 and his younger sister being born in 1920.

Finally, he moved toward his side of the family. Starting from Sirius, his great grandfather, to his father, Arcturus Sirius Black- 1901, he married his mother Melania Adeline Black née Macmillan, a marriage which resulted in two children, his elder sister Lucretia Melania Prewett née Black, having married Ignatius Willam Prewett. Then himself, who was born in 1929.

His father had two other siblings, Lycoris Caspian Black- 1904, Orion's uncle and Regulus Polaris Black- 1906.