The Black Heir

Review Replies:

VampireLover67: thank you :) I'm so glad that you're enjoying it; I'm sorry I left you hanging, but I can't promise I'll be updating super fast as my GCSEs are rapidly approaching. I will try to get more updates for this book up more regularly though, hopefully at least monthly.

Thranduil Arryn: yes, I'm definitely more inclined to Rhosymerde – but I guess that all depends on how she, and others, develop as characters. I quite like Isabella too tbh. Don't worry, no Ginny :)

SilverFox: I'm glad you're enjoying the story :) I don't think it's exactly an OC story as the character is still Harry Potter, just not with the same parentage – so technically he's an existing character, but I do have quite a lot of my own OCs in this book, I hope that makes it more interesting.

Snigtryg: interesting question :). As for how Harry/Corvus will feel about muggles and muggleborns, it will not be dislike or like – more indifference. Walburga, of course, would love for this to be contempt, but Sirius' influence will be strong too :). And as for if he'll be dark, I suppose it depends on how you class 'dark'. Will he be a Voldemort supporter? No. Will he have sympathies to the Dark side? Yes. Will he use dark/black magic? Definitely.

TheGirlWhoSawImagination: damn, I'm going to have to make my plot lines harder to guess with you always figuring them out :D. Yes, Ginny (don't worry, no Corvus/Ginny pairing) and the Twins will be more inclined away from Dumbledore – mostly because I believe that they're the least idiotic of the lot! I adore Theodore Nott too (mostly because of the name Theodore, adorable) which is why he's going to be quite a central character.

Thank you to everyone else who reviewed, thank you for your support :), I haven't replied to them all as soon my A/Ns will be longer than the chapter :D

Chapter 11: Sirius Orion Black

April 30th 1986

Sirius did not know how long he had been sitting there, wasting away. The cell he resided within how was far, far better than his one at Azkaban – due his mother and great-aunt's influence, he knew without a doubt. Time seemed unimportant to him now. In Azkaban, a month could seem like a year, a day could seem like an hour, under the constant shroud of darkness and despair there was only fear and regret.

When he had seen the paper, it had been a shock to learn that over five years had passed since his imprisonment. He could have sworn he had been in there for at least a decade and a half, maybe more.

In his depression, he had tried to conjure the memories of good times, of the Marauders – memories with the absence of Peter – and of the six months he and Ceres had spent together before being torn apart by the war. He had loved her; he loved their child.

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember his young son's face. True to what his Aunt Cassiopeia had said to him, it was his son that kept him alive during the relentless hours of isolation, where he was at the mercy of his own manic mind.

Liberation did not come for a long time, a time in which Sirius spent, staring at the same four dark walls, and blaming himself. If only he had been more perceptive, he could have saved James; if only he had been more intuitive, he could have realised what was going on with Ceres; if only he had been a better friend, he could have had Remus' trust that he was not the spy; if only he had been less reckless, he could have raised his son.

God knows what shit his mother had been forcing down his son's throat.

For the first time in what felt like years, the door to his cell was opened, and his mother stood there, simply observing him. She looked concerned, at first, causing him to laugh aloud. He truly was going insane to think that Walburga Black felt anything but ambition and greed.

"Come here to torture me?" He taunted, voice hoarse from a lack of water, and mind dwindling upon the howler that he had received from his mother when she had found out that he was placed in Gryffindor. He had sobbed himself to sleep that night, isolated, "the dementors already took care of that."

Walburga Black grimaced, grabbing her son's arm and pulling him up from the ground. He was unstable, wobbling on his feet rapidly, but somehow managed to keep himself upright, "I came to take you home, Sirius."

She noted the way his eyes brightened, no doubt at the prospect of seeing his son. Playing this to her advantage, she began to lead him out, glad that his distraction had meant that he allowed himself to be led by her. If he was more within his own mind, she knew that he would yank his arm away from her, rather the world see him crawl than receive help from her.

Dowager Lady Black scowled.

"Murderer!" She heard one man yell out, shielding a family member from her son's eyes, which were drawn away from his fantasies and to them at the yell. With a non-verbal spell, Walburga Black sent the man flying back into the wall and continued leading Sirius on with her head held high.

Sirius snorted in amusement, and Walburga herself cracked a small smile.

Leading him over to the first available fire place, Walburga clutched him tightly before calling out, "12 Grimmauld Place!" and the duo were gone within a flash of green.

TBH-TBH-TBH

Corvus found himself unable to stand still, despite his great-great Aunt's scolding for it. His father was coming home. Sirius Black was coming home. He had asked his mother's portrait to tell him as much as she could about his father, which had taken several days, and Corvus had made sure all of the elves had prepared his father's favourite foods.

When the fire place finally roared to life, he swiftly ran over, ignoring his Auntie Cassie's warning. And, true to what she had said, standing so close had resulted in the inhabitants falling ontop of him.

Corvus groaned in pain as his head throbbed from hitting it against the hard wood, eyes moving up to meet his grandmother's unamused one's, soon scolding, "what did I tell you about standing so close to the fire places?"

Sighing, he recited exactly, "that one day, somebody somebody is going to land on me and that I am going to get seriously hurt."

His grandmother nodded in agreement of her own words, pulling Corvus up from the ground. Corvus turned, eagerly, to see where his father was; only to find that he wasn't there.

Before Corvus could show his disappointment, or cry (which he rather felt like doing), Walburga informed him, "he's gone to get cleaned up; he looks like a mad man."

Walburga didn't bother to add her opinion that he was acting slightly like a mad man too. But, she supposed, half a decade in Azkaban would do that to anybody.

Rushing up, before anybody could stop him, calling out for his father. He grinned when a dark haired – slightly mad looking, and very malnourished – was sighted at the end of the corridor. Corvus rushed to him, almost regretting it when he nearly knocked the physically weak man over as he tried to embrace his son.

Corvus squeezed tightly, unwilling to let go, he had only just got his family back, and he was unwilling to relinquish it in the slightest.

"Hello Corvus."

"Hello daddy."

Corvus soon felt tears falling upon his shoulder, ones that made his own join them, as he held on tightly to the closest member of family that he had. He could remember the countless hours, the countless days that he had spent wishing that he had a father and mother to love him as much as the Dursleys loved Dudley.

While his mother was dead, he could still talk to her portrait, and while his father was ill and a former prisoner, he was still here. He had got his family.

Walburga Black, a woman of sixty years, watched on at the reunion, feeling a slight warmth growing within her, not that she would ever admit it. It was time to begin Dumbledore's take down, she knew, whether it took months or years, she was determined that she would be around to see it.

TBH-TBH-TBH

2nd May 1986

The blonde haired male scowled as he walked into the large, spacious office that was painfully brightly decorated, with a painfully brightly robed wizard standing at the heart of it. The office was just as he had remembered it many, many years ago – ugly and atrocious.

"Lucius," the much older man greeted, a grandfather-like smile adorning his face, "it has been a long time."

Lucius Malfoy, the Heir to the Malfoy name, fought the retort not long enough and instead resigned himself to bow his head as a sign of respect, dusting off the vibrant yellow chair before he sat himself within it.

For several moments, Lucius and Dumbledore simply stared at each other, before Dumbledore finally broke such a silence, "I must admit, I was most curious upon reading your letter. Tell me, Lucius, what are your motivations for such an alliance?"

"The welfare of my son, my wife, and myself," Lucius informed him, "I want the Malfoy, Slytherin, Gaunt and Black Lordships guaranteed for my family, I want a place on the board of Governors, I want money, and I want the best of the Slytherin dorm rooms for my son and Heir."

"Very well," Dumbledore stated, thinking over the requests that would not be hard to deliver with his status in the school and the ministry, "and what do I get in return?"

"An insider," Lucius answered, leaning back with a smirk as he watched Dumbledore's face become more interested, "an easy way to know your enemies secrets, and an easy way to guarantee their deaths, should you desire it. I am sure that you remember how efficient I am at potions."

Dumbledore nodded, his mind whirling at such offers. He thought of who was, perhaps, the biggest obstacle that he needed to move out of the way currently. Walburga Black and Cassiopeia Black were very big issues, but he had a feeling that both of those damn stubborn women would cling to life despite anything, nuisances they were – sometimes he wondered if the two Black women made death flee from them with their fearsome nature; another attempt on Sirius Black too soon would surely spark a war between the Blacks and any they suspected, and he would surely be one of them, and he could not risk that.

Perhaps, all they needed, was a tilt in power. Titles, money, land; all of it contributed in power. And, as Lady Slytherin and Lady Gaunt, Aurora Malfoy had a lot to give, and getting Abraxas Malfoy out of the picture would give Lucius the title of Lord Malfoy.

"Tell me, young Lucius, what is going to happen to your mother's Lordships upon her death?" Lucius scowled, and Albus Dumbledore knew that whatever news he was about to share would surely not benefit them.

"She's thinking of giving the title of Lady Gaunt to Meissa's blood traitor daughter, and the title of Lord Slytherin to Ceres' brat as he can speak Parseltongue."

He scowled. No, that would not do at all. To kill off Aurora Malfoy would be to give more power and influence to Sofia and Corvus, both titles would remined all of their rich ancestry, descendants of Salazar Slytherin and his wife, Rowena Ravenclaw, even if there was remarkably little money left in either account.

Tom Riddle Jnr, who had once had access to them as the only Heir, though now not able to access them as there was Heirs of more direct ancestry, had drained them dry to support his gathering army. And he would rise again, Dumbledore knew, which is why he so desperately needed control of the Black heir.

"Am I right, however, in assuming that the title of Lord Malfoy will go to you upon your father's death?"

Lucius Malfoy nodded, eyes widening – almost comically – when he realised where this was going. Something akin to regret and shock also played within them, but Dumbledore reassured himself that this man was not stupid enough to go back on their alliance – he had too much control over Malfoy now, for him to break the alliance would be for Dumbledore to expose what he had done. And then his father would most certainly not give him the Malfoy Lordship.

"Your first task, is to kill off Abraxas Malfoy. I need an ally with power, Lucius, and right now you are deprived of it."

TBH-TBH-TBH

11th May 1986

Lucius Malfoy swallowed as he eyed the purple vial again. He was angry with his father of late, the blatant favouritism toward the family's of his sisters wounding him greatly. But he didn't want him dead.

"Are you alright, my child?" His mother inquired of him kindly as she awarded him with a soft smile. Many who saw such a smile could not believe that she was a Gaunt, despite her Gaunt appearance, and it only made what he had to do harder.

His kind-hearted, thoughtful, loving mother would surely be destroyed by the death of her beloved husband. But Lucius did not have a choice. She had to understand that.

"I'm fine, mother," Lucius informed her, straining a smile that did not quite reach his eyes, "Draco has been asking for you and father recently, he believes you to be neglecting him for his cousins."

Aurora frowned, looking incredibly disappointed that her grandson felt such a way, "I will be sure to tell Abraxas, I never wanted Draco to feel unwanted. He is a dear, a credit to you and Narcissa – it wouldn't hurt him to be friendlier to the boys and Sofia, though, they have often tries to include him in their games."

Lucius fought a scowl at the thought of his son, his Heir, playing with the children of blood traitors but nodded to his mother none the less, "I shall tell him to make more of an effort."

Aurora nodded pleasantly.

No, Lucius thought to himself, he would tell Draco the opposite.

"I am making tea, would you like some?"

He shook his head, as his mother got up to bustle about making six teas – for Abraxas, Sirius, Walburga, Cassiopeia, Meissa and Narcissa, Aurora told him – and Lucius watched as she got out his father's favourite mug.

He watched as she put sugar – he wondered when his father had started taking sugars in his teas again, having stopped for a while, a time in which only Narcissa had tea with sugar – and milk into it. He stood, as she turned her attention to the other teas, telling her he was going to the library, quickly placing the vial's contents – which he had hid up his sleeve – into the mug.

He watched, from the doorway, as his mother took the tray out, giving out the cups. He breathed out a sigh in relief when, true to his hypothesis, his father's favourite cup was given to his father. He watched as they cheersed, and then as his father brought the cup to his lips before slipping the contents out.

Lucius began to panic, knowing that he had made it so that the poison was tasteless, until he heard his father's admission of, "it has far too much sugar."

His mother rolled her eyes at him, talking of how he used to love sugar and apologising for forgetting, just as Sebastian Potter scored with the quaffle against his twin sister, who positively scowled at him as Corvus aimlessly chased a snitch about.

"I'll have it," Lucius heard, and realising it was Narcissa that offered with horror, "mine has no sugar in it and I find it far too sower."

They switched cups, and Lucius was tempted to run and grab the cup from her hands. But that would show his guilt, then they would know what he did. And so Lucius watched with horror as Narcissa brought the cup up to her lips and began to drink. Pulling himself away from the scene, he fled to the library, scowling at the tears that made their way down his cheeks.

Twelve hours after his observation of the drinking of the tea, Narcissa Malfoy was dead, and none were able to pull Draco from his position of sibbing over his mother's body – the only person who truly loved him and protected him now being lost to him forever.

A/N what changes, I wonder, will this bring to Draco? Will Lucius continue to be Dumbledore's lapdog? Tell me what you think so far in the reviews :)