Chapter Text
Eyes closed in the delight of post-coital satisfaction, Arcturus rolled off his wife and rested on her side of their bed, basking in the aftermath of their intimate union. The warmth of their bodies intertwined was a tangible testament to their passion and excitement for more, but when he reached for her wand on the nightstand to tidy up the mess they made, he felt a chill run down his spine.
"AHHHHHH!"
The sudden scream jolted his senses, energy coursing through his veins as he snapped his eyes open, searching for the source of the disturbance. Melania quaked in fear, seeking refuge in the shelter of his embrace.
The last thing expected was the sudden appearance of a…spinning black hole the size of his head, suspended in the air with wisps of green light sprinkling out.
It boomed as it expanded wider in an instant, tossing cabinets, fixtures, and anything else not bolted down, which was most of their possessions, across their room as a windstorm blasted through it.
Wand at the ready, Arcturus felt a surge of anxiety and dread at the unexpected attack on them. Hands shaking, he conjured a shield for them, his mind still racing with plans for Melania and him to make their escape.
Arcturus swallowed deeply. The weight of the churning mass of magic blew in his face, freezing him in place.
It was a rare thing to witness so much power in one place that he could almost taste it. He experienced the same during the last war, a magic that penetrated the very flow of blood from simply witnessing it, but even then, he had never seen such a spell used, and he had had seen much in his years.
He was doubtful if he could obstruct whatever ensued next, knowing he would be no match, but he would count it a win as long as Melania escaped and got word to Orion and Cygnus.
Before he could process the outlandish sight, a hooded figure emerged from the depths of the void, clad in tattered battle robes with more holes than fabric, barely clinging to his body, a cape, boots…and glowing green eyes gazing eerily at them.
The man, half-naked and disheveled, was hunched over and gasping heavily. His ragged appearance was a stark contrast to the enemy he was anticipating.
With a mixture of disbelief and a moment of hesitation, Arcturus tensed, his grip tightening on his wife's wand as he made to defend against the unexpected intruder, except for the man's words to cut through the tension with a name that caused him pause, bewildered.
"Damn, Sirius, how'd you get so old?" the boy questioned, his voice laden with a strange blend of familiarity and confusion.
That was as far as the invader went. Arcturus' reaction was swift, taking advantage of the man's stupor, he unleashed a stunning spell, hitting the intruder head-on.
The trespasser, or assassin, possibly, crumpled under the impact, unconscious and vulnerable before them.
Arcturus let out a deep breath he never realized he was holding in, unable to believe his luck at the opening he was given. He felt a surge of relief wash over him thanks to his quick victory, but it was tempered by a gnawing sense of unease.
How did this happen?!
"Are you injured, Love?" he asked, turning to his wife and examining her.
Melania was hugging him tightly, hyperventilating and shaking in fear. She most certainly expected to die today, as did he.
She shook her head, wiping away her tears but still holding on to him.
"No…Arcturus, I'm fine," she claimed, but still quaking. She pointed at the fallen man. "But what was that? How did he get in?" she squeaked out, hiding her beautiful tee*ts behind a cover that could not hide the panic in her voice.
"I am unsure. Bring me my wand," he growled, switching wands with her.
He left his bed and walked hastily, but with caution, wand still held aloft, followed by Melania.
"Please, be careful," she pleaded.
Her distress spurred his hand. He conjured a length of rope and tied the man securely, his arms held behind his back, confident he was truly comatose and not faking.
"Worry not. The intruder is down," he assured.
Melania held his shoulders while hiding behind him. Arcturus could feel her quaking, and when he turned to reassure her, he saw her puffy red eyes as she wiped another tear from her eye. She wasn't hurt, but the sudden intrusion had obviously sent her into a panic.
He growled, swearing to make the man pay for even daring to frighten her, along with any other transgressions he would soon uncover.
Melania was not one for deadly duels or war, she left those for her fantasy books. She duels well when they were younger, but their current passion was that of knowledge and spell creations, not a battle to the death, and not at their age.
Thankfully, he had continued his training and would do his utmost to impress her while she simply watched from the corner.
As he knelt beside their fallen captive, Arcturus felt Melania's mimicking his movements.
"It would be safer if you stayed back," he suggested.
She stiffened before straightening her back. He would rather keep her away, but he knew she was going to be stubborn about it.
"Don't…I'm staying here. You already have the man bound and unconscious. And I would very much like to know who snooped on us before you decide to kill them."
Arcturus wanted to roll his eyes.
As if he wouldn't notice her redirecting his focus and anger elsewhere, but he would allow her to stay and watch. At least she would close where he could protect her.
"As you wish, but you must stay behind me at all times, I don't know what we will uncover," he commanded.
She nodded.
Melania was adamant in her decision, showing him how strong she was no matter how unnecessary it may be, he appreciated it nonetheless, but she couldn't hide how scared she was, not from him.
Together, they surveyed their prisoner, searching for any clue to his identity and relieving him of any hidden weapons.
But as he went through every charm and counter curse that might be useful, all that was found was a mokeskin pouch, and even it was under protections that refused to be expelled no matter what he tried.
"Is that it? Nothing else on him?" she inquired.
He shook his head.
"Aside from the torn robes and his purse, I can't find anything."
"He looks like he's been in a brawl," she discerned.
"It could be. Or from self-harm or the magic he used to enter our home. The damage could have been caused by any number of things."
"But how was he able to break in to begin with?" she asked. "That wasn't a Portkey or Apparition we saw, Arcturus. That…thing was something else. Have you any idea what that was?"
And wasn't that their true concern of the night?
His thoughts turned to the display of magic that heralded the man's arrival.
"That black hole…I have never encountered anything of its like before and am sure it was never mentioned in any tomes I've read. Some sort of new transport spell, perhaps, but the magic it gave off felt immense compared to the others," he murmured, a dozen rational possibilities coming to mind.
He couldn't recall ever hearing of anything similar to it. Given the aftermath left behind and the potent magic still lingering around, the man must be somewhat gifted.
Though very few would ever be able to use it, a spell like that, a new method of magical transportation, would make the creator famous and widely acclaimed, similar to the inventors of Floo powder or flying brooms if made public.
Or send him to the Department of Mysteries to be forgotten.
"And one that bypasses all your wards," she added. "You have dozens of them covering the place, and he snuck through all of them. Did you feel anything amiss before he arrived? It could have been something subtle."
"Nothing significant until you alerted me, and I saw the thing with my own eyes. I can still feel our wards, but I need to take the time to test them. Most spells that break through wards will create noise, a lot of it, but this one did not." he admitted with reluctance, upset over being ambushed in his home, as well as the plethora of wasted hours he spent researching and putting them up.
Melania went still, and he gave him a piercing look.
"That is a very dangerous piece of magic, Art. If it got out, house protections could be made obsolete," she said ominously.
"It can," he agreed solemnly. "To break through them all without being noticed is no easy feat, especially when done by a single wizard."
If there were someone out there who could simply disregard protections like that, nowhere would be safe from infiltration. Homes, Hogwarts, businesses… For Merlin's sake, Gringotts could be robbed from the comfort of his home.
"That still doesn't explain how he found us in the first place or why he targeted us, of all people. What did we do?" she questioned, agitated.
"Nothing we have done excuses this attempt on our lives, Melania, but I'll have the truth from him. One way or another, the man will not be left unscathed," he pledged.
Arcturus would break him down, torture him, tear through his mind, and rip his limbs before he healed what could before beginning the process all over again, but much slower.
He spat on his unconscious form, then pulled the hood and tightly grabbed ahold of the dark mop of hair covering his face with no small amount of delicacy and took a better look at the man's smooth, pale face.
The silence that ensued was a telling because they did not anticipate what they saw. He stared more curiously at him while Melania gawked in disbelief.
"That's a boy, Arcturus," she cried.
A soon-to-be-dead boy.
But she was correct. The man was, in fact, a child who looked no older than his eldest granddaughters.
That realization did not bring him as much comfort as it should have. If anything, it brough him more worries and more questions along with it. The boy could not have the understanding to cross wards so effortlessly, especially his, let alone display such power.
And it didn't help explain how he knew of their location.
He had gotten complacent.
He should not have been so surprised to be a target of assassination, no matter how small the chance. They had left the public's eye to get away from all the scheming around them.
He would rather continue living his twilight years in peace with only Melania than suffer the people he greatly disliked, which was everyone but her.
The only contact they had was with their children and, on rare occasions, the Macmillans.
Their last correspondence with other families was when his sons visited with their wives, bringing in the proposals offered to his granddaughters.
They were good matches, each of his granddaughters would gain the title of Lady to a Pureblood House, but others were refused for the superior match.
Someone might have felt slighted.
Arcturus looked curiously at the sleeping boy, roaming his face for features that may tell him which family he came from.
But none of them matched, not quite like…
Though he already checked for transfiguration and potions, he sent another Finite at his face.
Nothing.
Finite Incantatem
And again, nothing changed…
His attention was taken away by a gasp from his wife, hands over her rapidly beating heart.
Melania looked to be in a daze, her mouth agape and her eyes bouncing from their prisoner to him and back again like it was some quidditch game. She seemed to have come to the same conclusion he had begun to make.
There was his last shred of hope that his eyes were simply playing tricks on him in his old age.
The boy was giving him a bloody headache, and he wasn't even awake to do it.
"You see it as well, my dear?" he checked.
Melania took her time to find the words, shaking her frantically before moving closer to the boy's face.
"He looks a little like you…and your sister," she cautiously confirmed, closely scrutinizing the boy's face as if she were reminded of something.
"Yes, well, he did call me Sirius," he reminded her.
The boy was well-built and darkly handsome, with fair skin, a strong jaw, and curly black hair hiding a thin, lightning-shaped scar. The boy had enough of his family's looks to have them wondering.
More of Dorea than himself, but it was plenty to turn a few heads and have the gossiping hens prattle on about his family.
"Your father?" she wondered.
Arcturus would smile if the situation allowed it and if he was not so on edge.
The chance the boy belonged to Arcturus never seemed to cross her mind. The thought of betraying his vows and besmirching his good name was simply not in his nature.
Others, on the other hand…
He grunted. "Possibly, but I find it hard to believe my father had any sorted dalliances before his death, and the boy looks no older than Bellatrix or Andromeda. He would have to of been born after his death. I would fear Orion or Cygnus before I consider he belonged to my father," he said angrily.
If he discovered that one of his sons had produced a bastard that caused this attack on them, they would be punished severely and by his hand.
"They would nev…," she paused and blushed when he gave her a knowing look.
She always tended to coddle their sons when they were children and disregard their worst flaws, though he was just as guilty.
"Maybe," she said hesitantly. "Or he could belong to someone…distant."
"Blown off the family tree, you mean," he amended.
She sighed in resignation as she never cared for the tradition but understood.
"Never mind that. His looks could be just a coincidence. We have time to find out who his kin are later. What are we to do with him now?" she asked, fidgeting with her sleeves.
It wasn't a coincidence and did not believe it was either. Arcturus could tell the boy's face unnerved her as much as himself. His very presence would cause problems within the family and place a stain on their reputation if a relation between them was discovered and it got out.
Then, there was the reason for his destructive invasion of their home.
It compelled him to take drastic measures to find the reasons behind it because there was no telling what a boy with power and the looks of his family was planning to do.
But he had a few guesses.
It would be a new experience, torturing a child who resembled his family so much, but he would try, imagining a motionless Melania dead in his arms.
Oh, I will most certainly try.
Fortunately, with his rags, he looked more ruffian than he did a Black noble.
"I will interrogate him personally, of course, and find out where he came from and how he appeared in our home without my knowledge. He is our prisoner now. With him, we have an opportunity to discover his purpose first-hand. If not for him appearing right before us, I fear we would have never known of him before it was too late," he gritted out, unable to take the apparent insult against them.
To dare attack the Head of House Black in his home showed just how little respect the boy cared for his family's station.
"Was it truly that close?" she asked, and he recalled she had her eyes shut for most of it.
He exhaled a ragged breath, thinking of an excuse.
He put a hand around her and squeezed her shoulder in comfort.
"It won't happen again now that I know someone is after us," he promised her.
Melania quietly paled, grabbing his arm.
"He's a boy, Arcturus," she said incredulously. "A child. There is no conceivable way he could have done this without some help. Not you nor Dumbledore could pull whatever that spell was at his age. It was incredibly lucky you took him out when he was incoherent. What if others know of his spell and use it? What if he has backers waiting for his return? They could try again," she asked with concern.
The possible consequences if the intruder had not appeared directly before them were not forgotten.
I know, my dear. What other plots am I not aware of?
"My thoughts precisely, but have no fear. By now, I expect his partners, if there are any, to have realized their mission was a failure. If they do attempt something, it will be another day, and we will have been gone long before then. There are too many unknowns surrounding him, and we currently lack information to help us move forward without falling into an unknown trap laid out for us or compromising our sons and grandchildren. We have some time to question him before we take our leave, and I am keen on finding out what is occurring that I am ignorant of. I thought he may be a student since he doesn't look of age yet."
Melania shook her head and scoffed at him.
"Slughorn wouldn't be able to control his curiosity if he had the boy for Potions. Orion or Cygnus would have brought it to us sooner."
"True. An outside hire then or homeschooled…" he concluded, thoughts turning to the major British families.
"What's on your mind?"
"If we've unknowingly insulted or snubbed someone in recent months," Arcturus pondered, rubbing his chin.
"Besides our children?" she teased in her attempt to break the tension.
He grinned. One of his favorite pastimes was dressing down his sons and their wives when they behaved too full of themselves in his presence.
Just how difficult was it to remember their place, really?
"Yes, aside from them, I can't imagine what has happened to provoke an attack against us."
"The betrothals could have been messier than what we were led to believe," she suggested.
"Betrothals fall apart and are spurned regularly," he reminded her. "I'm certain any rejection Orion or Cygnus made would not have led to this."
"Are you sure? I wouldn't put it past the Rosiers to pull something when they don't get their way. You don't think Druella would betray us to help her brother, do you? Or Walburga, for that matter," Melania asked hotly.
Arcturus snorted derisively.
"Druella's a sheep. She will follow Walburga's lead through and through, and Walburga doesn't have the stones to dare challenge me unless I am already buried in the ground. Who would help her even? Her uncle is as witless as his father and every other Crabbe before him."
He saw her lips twitching into a ghost of a smile.
"Besides, they're the ones who advocated for the better matches. They ought to be happy with it," he added.
"Walburga has always been an impatient grasper. Don't you forget how she seduced Orion back in Hogwarts? She's made it no secret that she desires your ring and title fully for Orion sooner rather than later," she cautioned with a frown.
"Never, but Orion has full autonomy over the vaults and our Wizengamot seat. And has done his duty in my place as Lord Black for years. All politics and deals are made through him now. She wouldn't risk my wrath coming down her comfortable existence when she is essentially Lady Black. Though she could never match the grace of the true Lady Black," he said sincerely, taking her hand and kissing it.
"You're sweet, Arcturus, but I'm still not ruling her out yet. But I'll admit it would be a dumb gamble on her part. We should be searching the other families for likely suspects, especially Lestrange and Nott," she said, scrunching her nose.
They were the last families they heard from.
Rodolphus Lestrange and Theodore Nott were being arranged to marry Bellatrix and Andromeda, respectively, with further talks with the Malfoys for Narcissa's hand. They should be exempt, but Arcturus knew it wouldn't be beneath any of them to strive for more than what he allotted.
"It would not surprise me if that were the case," he agreed, "but they have already achieved what they desired: a Black bride. We are allies now and soon allies by blood. There is no need to stir the cauldron when they have little to gain from it. There are other, more probable suspects."
"Like who, the Malfoys?" she asked with contempt laced in her voice.
His eyes narrowed as he considered them.
"This does stink of something Abraxas would do while keeping his hands clean," he acknowledged, "but only if money doesn't solve his problems. No, if anything, the man should be raining gifts on us to get on my good side after Orion and Cygnus agreed to a courtship for Narcissa. But I believe he is confident that Lucius will be accepted. Though with all this, I can't be certain of anything. No honor among that lot. Truthfully, it can be any of them, and the boy is the only way I can think of to narrow down the suspects."
Yaxley, Flint, Avery, Parkinson…they all seemed to want a connection with the Blacks these days. They were told of how upset they were when denied, and rightfully so, but made no further overtures after Orion informed them informed them of his decision.
But that could all just be a bluff. Whether his sons hid it or weren't aware of their schemes to begin with, he wasn't sure. Any one of them could be trying to change his mind.
Travers, Mulciber, Carrow, there were too many potential foes. Half of them would give up a load of gold for a spell that bypasses wards, and the other would love nothing more than to end the Blacks and replace them with their own House in the pecking order.
He let go of the boy's head and let it drop on their marble floor with a thud.
When he looked at their destroyed room, his eyes caught sight of the long, brown wand lying on the floor away from where he fell, sticking out from under one of the many broken cabinets.
He walked over and picked it up hurriedly, taking away the only weapon found of the intruder, and assessed it.
It was unusual…far too unusual.
Can't this bastard have anything normal?
It was over a foot long, with spherical bumps, a hundred notches covering it, and a dozen ruins he could not begin to decipher running along its handle.
Arcturus was no expert in wandlore, but he had read plenty of subjects since his retirement. It was a useful piece of knowledge that was not commonly studied but was an advantage for the few who did.
Most could only identify the wood for simple comparisons or a passing fancy.
If dug deeper, one could hypothetically get the measure of a Witch or Wizard or at least an idea of their character without a single encounter, all from simply knowing the nature and combination of their wand.
It helped that his family library lacked for nothing, filled with the most rare and exotic books. Some of the tomes they owned were unlikely to have more than a handful of copies still in existence.
The collection of wands in his vault gave him plenty of solid samples to study, enough to ignite his curiosity. Many were generations old, left behind after a Black passed, but brittle and old. They were merely decorative heirlooms, and he wouldn't risk using any of them, but the diversity was vast.
And yet…none came close to matching anything like what was in his hand. So intricate and perfectly made with strange designs, the complexity of the wand was far beyond anything typical to Britain.
The runes adorning it were not in a language he recognized or if it was only one that was used. There was little similarity between them. And feeling the many bumps and notches, Arcturus was mystified over what purpose they could possibly serve.
And that was aside from the wood it was made of that had him so befuddled.
He must have been taking his time because when he looked up to find Melania now wearing her nightgown, to his great annoyance, and looking at him patiently to finish playing out a thought in order to ask what was on her mind.
"That…is an odd wand," she commented, looking curious as she reached for it to examine.
"Hmm…" he nodded in agreement, still staring at the wand in thought.
"Oh!" Melania grabbed his shoulders to get his attention. "We can take it to Ollivander. Ask him who he sold it to. He might know," she happily suggested.
Her idea had merit. He was but a novice in wandlore compared to someone like Ollivander. The man had created the majority of wands used by Hogwarts students and was well known to recall the name of every person he sold one to.
And if it were any other wand, Arcturus would agree, but on this occasion, it wasn't likely.
"That would be of no help," he murmured.
"Why not?" she quirked her eye, sounding unconvinced.
"Because Ollivander does not use Elderwood for his creations," he informed her as he twirled the wand between his fingers.
"Elder...?"
"Yes, and truthfully, I do not know of any wizard stupid enough to use such a wand. You recall the superstition, do you not? Wands of Elder, never prosper. I wished to get my own for our collection, but it is known as the hardest wood to master for a reason, on top of its undesirable history. I do not believe Ollivander would sell a wand that could injure its owner. I suspect a foreign wandmaker or self-made, perhaps. Either way, I am hesitant to ask him for assistance."
Curious. The mystery grows. At the bare minimum, I get a rare wand out of this.
"You can be wrong. You can still question him. He might recognize its creator and give us a lead."
True. It was a sensible approach. Ollivander could have possibly made and sold the wand, and if not, he was acquainted with other wandmakers and could potentially give them a direction to start their pursuit.
But he was hesitant to go down that path.
Apart from refusing to involve others more than necessary, he had no guarantee that Ollivander wouldn't open his mouth, and the wandmaker was acquainted with many people.
Particularly Dumbledore, and that thought brought his eyes back to the wand.
"What is it? Did you discover something?" Melania asked, catching his inquisitive look.
"I thought… No," he said, shaking his head. "Though it does look familiar, I cannot remember where or from whom," he said, narrowing his eyes in focus.
It was discomforting how little information he had on such a powerful wizard, but he was now confident in his ability to keep him confined. The likelihood that the single power spell had drained the boy gave him enough to gauge his strength.
Impressive for a child if he had help, but not enough to outduel him and escape while tied and wandless.
He levitated the boy upside down and began walking out.
"I will take him to the cellar and see what I can squeeze out of him," he said sad*stically.
"Should I contact Orion and Cygnus?" she suggested.
"No!" he turned around and reacted quickly. "I will gain all the answers I need from him before they are informed. We do not know who is plotting against us nor what their plans are for us. I do not need them or their wives leaking our family business to outsiders before I know what is going on. The only person I currently trust is you."
"Then, is there anything I can do for you, Arcturus?"
"Bring me a vile of Veritaserum from our inventory. That, along with a few Crucios and Legilimency, should loosen his tongue fairly quickly."
"Do be safe down there. I'll give the wardstone a quick once-over while I'm at it. It might tell us specifically how his spell works," she offered. "If it's broken, then we are leaving immediately," she commanded
He agreed, gave her a kiss, and thanked her for remembering before she ran off.
He walked into the largest room underneath their home. The cellar was dark and humid, filled with shelves of wine and oversized caskets of rum.
Conjuring a chair, Arcturus placed their prisoner in it and transfigured the ropes into chains, adding more locks to his legs and neck and charming them, leaving the boy's head as the only visible part.
As the finite changed nothing, he assumed there was no Polyjuice involved and that the face was his own.
Finishing up his preparations, Arcturus was finally ready to begin his interrogation.
"Enervate," he cast, rousing him from his slumber. "Open your eyes, boy," he ordered.
