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"The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends and the other begins?" — Edgar Allan Poe, The Premature Burial

Paint It Black

Part 1

Wool's Orphanage - London.

It is a very strange thing to wake up one day, remember your past life, and have your current one feel so far removed from reality that it seems to be part of a dream. I spent most of that first day in my new life—or rather, the day when I felt like myself—sitting in my small room here at the orphanage.

I needed time to try to come to terms with the fact that I could remember my old life and that this new one was set in a fictional universe. I knew that this world should be fictional and not real because of the two letters sitting on the little table beside my bed.

Both letters are addressed to Antecanis James Black. One of them is a Hogwarts acceptance letter, and given that I'm at Wool's Orphanage—where Voldemort grew up—it's clear to me I'm in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, and that this letter isn't some kind of prank. Even though I am 17, rather than 11, and due to leave the orphanage soon, I have the feeling that this is all real.

I recall filling out an Interactive CYOA recently, and the choices I made with that document must have shaped my new life. However, I don't remember choosing to be a 17-year-old guy instead of a boy of 11, not that I'm complaining. I have no desire for any high school drama, to go through puberty again or for anyone to care for me as if I were a child.

Besides the letters, I have other evidence that I'm magical. For starters, I'm a Metamorphmagus. I just know how to change my features, such as the colour of my eyes, the length of my hair, the shape of my nose, and things like that. I understand that I'll be able to do more as I practice, but I have no desire to do anything drastic, like changing my gender.

My Animagus form is that of an Eurasian wolf—a large and powerful grey wolf. Even though my Animagus form is that of a pack animal, I consider myself a lone wolf. Despite this, my cat, whom I never bothered to name, doesn't seem to mind my company. Perhaps it's because he also spends quite a bit of time on his own.

Antecanis James Black

Room 14

Wool's Orphanage

London

That's what it says on the front of my unopened Hogwarts letter. Given my name, it wasn't hard to figure out who my father was. Out of all the Blacks, only Sirius Black would give his son the middle name James. They were as close as brothers, and giving me James Potter's first name as my middle name should make people wonder why Sirius Black would ever betray him. Not that wizards are known for their logical thinking in the Wizarding World.

As for the name, Antecanis—also known as Procyon—is the brightest star in the Canis Minor constellation, whereas Sirius is part of the Canis Major constellation. Also, Canis is a genus of the Caninae, which includes wolves, dogs, and coyotes.

Another name for the star Sirius is the 'Dog Star'. So, my first name could be intended to mean 'little dog' while Sirius Black could be the 'big dog', I could easily imagine Sirius Black finding that amusing, and it fits with the family tradition of naming people after things found in the night sky.

Sirius might have found some humour in the name or even had some affection for me, although that hadn't stopped him from getting himself locked up in Azkaban. I can only assume that in this timeline, my father ran off, abandoning both his godson and me to chase down Peter Pettigrew. If so, then he was a fool.

The biggest clue to my identity is the letter from Gringotts, which arrived along with my Hogwarts letter. It informed me that Sirius Black had passed away in Azkaban, and since he had no known immediate family other than me—no living parents, siblings, or children, and no wife (meaning my mother was either never married to him or is also dead)—I am due to inherit his entire estate.

The letter made it clear that I'm getting everything, so I assume Sirius didn't write a will, as there are no other beneficiaries mentioned. Perhaps he didn't write a will in the books until after he escaped Azkaban, which might explain why Harry Potter isn't inheriting everything in this timeline. It would make sense for Sirius not to bother with a will before being locked up, since back then, he was an outcast from the family, and there were still other Blacks alive.

As far as I can tell. The Wizarding World seems to mimic the Muggle one when it comes to how inheritance works, so there's little chance of it all going to Draco Malfoy, as often comes up in fanfiction. Cousins can only inherit in the absence of a will if the deceased's spouse, children, parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles are all dead. Narcissa Malfoy might have been able to inherit, as she is Sirius's first cousin, but there was no mention of her in the letter.

This could mean that the Malfoys might try to kill me, but since I'm still alive, they may not know about me or may not know how to find me. Andromeda Tonks is also Sirius Black's cousin, so they might think the Tonks family got everything. For now, I'm alive, but I'll have to be very careful once I enter the Wizarding World.

My ally in all of this is that I'm a Metamorphmagus like Nymphadora Tonks and her son, who shouldn't exist yet in this timeline, so perhaps it's a Black family trait. This ability should help me get around without anyone realising who I am, as I don't have to look like I do now.

Also, it would be wise to limit my contact with the Wizarding World because, aside from the Malfoy family trying to take my money, if Sirius died in Azkaban, then people in this timeline should still think he was a Death Eater, even those who knew better in the canon one won't do so in this one.

Given how quick to judge and bigoted the wizards and witches are in this world, I've already begun to suspect that I'll be seen as Sirius Black Jr. by them rather than as a separate person, and that I'll be miserable at Hogwarts as a result.

The Death Eaters and their children will know Sirius Black wasn't one of them, but the rest of the students won't have that knowledge. I can recall how Luna was bullied just for believing in undocumented magical creatures, so I would likely have it worse, and unlike the children of Death Eaters, I have no family backing me up. As such, I will be isolated and an easy prey.

I would most likely end up in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. I'm not brave, loyal, or friendly, but I do like to read, and I can be cunning. However, I'm more of a sociopath than simply being autistic, as I was in my last life. As such, going to a school full of people who will hate me is not a good idea for them or me.

Even with my affinity for the dark arts, vast wealth and Pureblood pedigree, Slytherin would be a nightmare, as Snape—the Head of the House—hates Sirius Black. Without his feelings for Lily Potter to hold him back, as they did with Harry Potter, Snape could go too far and maybe even kill me. I would not put my faith in Dumbledore's protection as other students seem to.

Ravenclaw might not be too bad. I've been bullied in more than one lifetime, so I know I can handle it. However, I just don't think it would be worth it. Hogwarts isn't a good school when you think about it practically, nor is it safe, even if your fellow students leave you alone. So, I would refuse the offer to attend and seek my education elsewhere.

Since I will soon possess all of the Black fortune, I can just hire private tutors and live in Grimmauld Place, staying out of the Wizarding World as much as possible. People with real Death Eater relatives managed to get by; therefore, so can I.

The second letter remained unopened on my desk for hours, its contents weighing on my mind. When I finally opened it, it was all as expected:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

So I'm a magical orphan about to enter a world of magic, rich but likely to be an outcast in a world where people are forced to hide their gifts lest they be made an outcast. Sound familiar?

Where I live now is also odd to think about, because in my world, I'm pretty sure all orphanages had long been replaced by children's residential care homes, which began to be set up when the modern welfare state was established after World War II. Some things are different in this universe, and I wonder what else will be different from what I expect.

A part of me feels distant and disconnected from the idea of having a father in this world. But another part recognises that Sirius Black was unjustly imprisoned for over a decade, and now his life is over. I am left to deal with the consequences of his death—and his legacy.

I reread the letter from Gringotts. It was short, and I guessed the goblins were not ones to waste words. Their missive was direct, formal, and devoid of any sentiment:

Dear Mr Antecanis James Black,

Following the death of your father, Sirius Orion Black, in Azkaban, it has been discovered that you are the sole beneficiary of his estate. As his only recognised heir, the properties, assets, and holdings of the Black family now belong to you.

You are requested to appear at Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley, no later than August 1st, 1997, to finalise the transfer of assets and receive further instructions regarding the inheritance. Failure to appear may result in penalties or forfeiture of certain properties under Wizarding inheritance laws.

Please bring identification.

We look forward to your swift and timely response.

Sincerely,

Gringotts Wizarding Bank

The letter's message was clear. I had no choice but to go, and I had to be there by tomorrow. As much as I wanted to avoid the Wizarding World, not going to Gringotts could cause me legal trouble, and there was a chance that the Black estate could fall into the hands of the Malfoys or the Ministry.

Since the Ministry hasn't informed me of the passing of Sirius, I had to wonder if they planned to seize the assets without informing me, then later claim they did send a letter if I ever make inquiries. They might even send it late on purpose, as they did with Harry Potter when he had a trial about the change of the trial's starting time and its location.

But that's not what worries me. The real danger is that someone will undoubtedly notice when Sirius Black's heir emerges from the shadows. If the Ministry or anyone connected to the Death Eaters finds out about my existence, they might see me as a target.

It's not just the Malfoys who might be livid about a blood traitor's son inheriting the Black estate. I'm fairly certain a drawback I selected when filling out the CYOA should make something like that happen, but it's hard to remember all the details.

Still, I can't sit around forever. I have a new life to start, and the first step is simple: I have to go to Diagon Alley. Tomorrow is August 1st, and I can't stay at the orphanage forever. I have no resources or allies in the Muggle world. At least in the magical one, I'll have access to wealth and the chance to learn about magic.

Whatever Sirius left me will have to be enough. As for Hogwarts? Homeschooling seems fine to me. I won't even bother to reply to that letter.

Paint It Black.

Part 2.

Diagon Alley - London.

As I left the Muggle world, I carefully avoided contact with anyone from the orphanage—something I recall being well-practised at. If no one knew where I was going, the better it would be for everyone if any wizards or witches came looking for me. I needed to do my best to make sure I didn't leave a trail for them to follow.

Besides, I wasn't exactly attached to anyone there. I had no friends, no romantic partners, no real connections at all. It seemed I had spent the first 17 years of this new life in the background, avoiding attention. No doubt, my second-hand clothing and ordinary appearance also helped people to ignore me.

Finding the right street had been a bit of a chore, especially since all those fancy map apps you can look at on your phone in the 2020s don't exist yet. Even if they did, I doubted Diagon Alley would appear on any of them. Thankfully, I recalled a line in the first book about Hagrid and Harry going to Charing Cross, and there is a Charing Cross Road, a street in central London.

After wandering around London for a while, using my knowledge as a native of this city and a road map, I finally reached the Leaky Cauldron. It was as unremarkable as I had imagined—an old, dingy pub hidden from Muggles by magic, sandwiched between a bookshop and a record store. I hesitated only for a moment before stepping inside, and as I did, I was assaulted by the smell of pipe smoke.

As I passed through the pub, Tom, the barkeep, barely glanced at me. I had to admit, my heart raced a little as I stepped through the back of the pub and toward the entrance to Diagon Alley. I might be a sociopath with a talent for the Dark Arts, but I was capable of feeling levels of excitement.

I watched with interest as an old witch tapped the correct sequence of bricks, just as I remembered from the books, and waited as the wall parted, revealing the bustling alley beyond. As much as I wanted to linger and gawk at all the shops as well as the people doing their shopping, there was no time for that.

As much as possible, I quickly moved through the crowd toward the towering white marble building of Gringotts at the far end of the packed alley. Despite the rush I was in, I saw stores that looked as if they were worth exploring later, such as Ollivander's Wand Makers and a couple of bookstores that I already felt drawn to.

When I got to the bank, I saw that Goblins patrolled the entrance, their sharp eyes taking in every detail of the customers walking in and out. I knew I'd be under scrutiny, but I also knew Goblins valued gold more than human politics. As long as I handled the inheritance properly, they wouldn't care who I was or what I was up to, unless it affected them.

Despite time being a factor, I took a moment to read the warning Goblins liked to display:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

The inside of the bank was cool, almost cold, or maybe that was just how unwelcome I felt. While I felt uncomfortable here, I still decided that the bank looked impressive, with its marble floors and gleaming counters.

While taking in the sights and sounds, I approached one of the Goblin tellers, a well-dressed creature who eyed me with a mixture of suspicion and what I guessed might have been boredom. It was hard to tell, given that he wasn't human, and even during my first life, I'd had trouble understanding the emotions of others.

"I'm here to meet with someone regarding an inheritance," I said, keeping my voice steady while showing the Goblin the letter the bank had sent me "I received a letter about Sirius Black's estate".

The Goblin's eyes widened ever so slightly at the name, but he said nothing. Instead, he gestured for me to follow him. We moved deeper into the bank, passing through twisting hallways, until we reached a small and posh office. Inside, another Goblin sat behind a desk, shuffling through stacks of parchment. His chair was so high that we were at eye level while I was standing.

"Ah, Mr Black," the Goblin said, barely glancing up as I entered. "Come in. Please, sit".

I took the offered seat, doing my best to remain calm. I might have looked relaxed on the outside, but inside, I was very nervous. My entire future depended on this meeting going well.

"Mr Black, I am Snarltooth. I manage the transfer of funds and property here at Gringotts," he informed me, looking me over as he spoke.

The Goblin pushed a large folder of documents toward me and accepted my Muggle ID without question. Perhaps it was just a formality; it wasn't as if Harry Potter had to come to the bank when Sirius died to receive his inheritance.

"We are here to ensure the transfer of the Black family estate," Snarltooth said. "All properties, gold, and personal belongings will be placed under your name, provided you sign these documents".

I nodded and took the quill. My hand shook slightly when I signed each parchment, the weight of the moment finally hitting me. This was it. This was real. I was about to become a rich man—no, I was about to become a rich wizard. Motivated by that thought, I quickly read through and signed all of the documents. Once the last paper was signed and placed on the wooden desk, the Goblin sat back, eyeing me.

"There is one more thing, Mr Black," he said in a lower voice now. "The key to your family's vault. It contains many valuable items, as well as a great fortune in gold".

I kept my face impassive as I accepted the small brass key. My stomach twisted slightly as I realised that by accepting this key, I had radically changed who I was. I could dwell on that later. For now, I needed to see what my assets were. Aside from what I guessed would be a lot of gold, the vault should contain the magical items I had purchased when setting up the CYOA, which I had forgotten about, as I was understandably rather overwhelmed by all of this.

"How does this inheritance stuff work in the magical world?" I asked the Goblin. "Did Sirius Black have a will? Can the Ministry interfere with an inheritance?"

The Goblin shook his head.

"The Ministry only becomes involved if there is a will registered with them. Otherwise, Gringotts handles the matter, using inheritance laws to decide who inherits the property and wealth of a recently deceased witch or wizard," I was told. "Arcturus Black, who died in 1991, sold off most of the Black family's assets. He did have a will, but it was invalidated because his chosen heir was dead by then. Only his daughter, who refused to have anything to do with him, was still alive in terms of immediate family, but she died a couple of years later. As such, everything went to Sirius Black, who, as you know, recently died in Azkaban".

From what I knew of the Black family, most of them died young, at least by wizard standards. I wondered if they were cursed. If so, I hoped I wasn't affected.

"Our records don't indicate that Sirius married or had other children, so you inherit everything," the Goblin said. "However, it was a chaotic time for wizards in Britain before Sirius Black was locked up, so he may have married without Gringotts knowing".

Before I left this rather nice office, there was something I wanted to enquire about.

"I did wonder because the Ministry hasn't informed me of his death, and I was worried they might try to seize his assets," I mentioned.

The Goblin snorted.

"Gringotts does not allow the wealth of the wizarding world to be taken by the Ministry. If we did, those who entrust us with their gold would stop doing so, and we'd be out of business in no time," Snarltooth said.

This made sense, considering the Lestrange vault was full when it was broken into by the Golden Trio. If the Ministry was going to seize the vaults of criminals, they would have taken theirs.

"Far more likely is that the Ministry simply buried Black on the island and chose to forget about him without giving any thought to his estate," the Goblin added.

I was reminded of Hanlon's razor, an adage that states: Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.

"Thank you, Snarltooth," I said, standing and pocketing the small brass key to the Black family vault.

My mind was already racing with possibilities. Despite the Goblin's reassurances, I knew I couldn't be complacent. The wizarding world was full of corrupt leaders, and people tended to poke their noses into things that didn't concern them. Plus, the Ministry could always be depended upon to make a simple matter worse than it needed to be.

Snarltooth nodded, barely acknowledging my thanks as he turned back to his paperwork. As I left the small and posh office behind, I found myself moving back through the twisting hallways of the bank as I went over what the meeting had provided me. The Black family fortune, the remaining properties, and the family name. It was all mine now.

I reached the main lobby again, noticing the bustling wizards and witches. None of them paid me any attention, and this was good, as the last thing I needed right now was for anyone to interrupt my thoughts.

With the key to the Black fortune burning a hole in my pocket, I decided it was best to visit the vault now, while I still had my anonymity. If I waited too long, someone might start noticing me, and that could make it a lot harder to get my shopping done in peace.

I headed towards the entrance to Gringotts and found myself in front of a goblin who was managing vault access. I showed him the key and was quickly escorted to a small cart, just like I remembered from the books. The ride down to the Black Vault was a blur of twisting tracks and narrow tunnels. I could feel the cold, damp air whip across my face as the cart descended deeper and deeper into the bowels of the bank.

Eventually, the cart screeched to a halt, and we arrived at an enormous black door, intricately decorated with the Black family crest and the family motto. The Black family often acted as if they were a noble house from Westeros rather than wizards and witches. I wouldn't be shocked to find out that there was a castle owned by the Blacks, or maybe there had been. Judging by the paperwork aside from Grimmauld Place, all the properties had been sold off years ago.

The Black family motto is Toujours Pur, which translates to 'Always Pure' in French. The Black family was a wizarding family that placed great importance on blood purity and considered themselves akin to royalty in the wizarding world. I didn't even know if I was a Pureblood, although I had selected that option in the CYOA for reasons that had no doubt made sense all those years ago.

As I handed over the key to open the vault, I couldn't help but smile. This was it—behind these doors was the wealth of one of the oldest and most powerful pure-blood families in the wizarding world. And now, it was all mine to do with as I pleased.

The goblin inserted the key into the vault's lock, and with a loud, echoing click, the door creaked open. Inside, the vault was immense. Piles of gold galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts gleamed in the dim light. There were more coins than I could count, stacked in towering piles that reached my waist. But it wasn't the gold that caught my attention.

Tucked away toward the back of the vault were other things, such as ancient artefacts, dusty heirlooms, and objects that looked far too dangerous to be left lying around casually. Since I had no idea what any of it did or if it was all cursed or not, I left well enough alone.

My eyes fell on a large tapestry hanging on the back wall, like the one in a room in Grimmauld Place. The Black family tree. It looked just like I remembered, with names burnt out and missing from the lineages of those disowned or disgraced. I did not appear on it, nor was there anything to indicate whose baby mama Sirius Black's could be.

There were a few items here I knew to be safe, as I had selected them as part of the CYOA when setting up my new life. I'd selected a few things, and I was now recalling what they were.

On a stand, I found the protective gear I wanted, which took the form of dragonhide gloves, boots, a jacket, and black clothing that looked to be made of some thick fabric, probably offering some magical protection. I took the clothing and the magical ring. I knew it would turn me invisible when worn, and yes, it did look just like the One Ring.

I also took up my goblin-silver dagger, which I had selected during the CYOA, in case I needed to destroy a Horcrux. Although it might not be powerful enough for that without being imbued with basilisk venom. I did know where some of the venom could be found, but going after it would be risky.

After that, I filled up one of those 'bigger-on-the-inside' bags with plenty of money and made my way out of the vault. Even if I wasn't going to Hogwarts, there was plenty out there for me to buy.

Paint It Black

Part 3

Diagon Alley. London.

As soon as I left the bank, I planned to do what many in my situation would do in place, and that was to spend a lot of money at the shops to help me become a proper wizard. I decided to get my wand right away rather than wait, so I headed straight to Ollivanders. The dusty old shop appeared empty at first, but the owner suddenly jumped out and startled me.

"Ah, Antecanis Black. I thought I might be seeing you soon," he said.

I had no idea how he even knew I existed, so I asked about it. As it turned out, he wasn't some sort of seer.

"You were in the paper today," said Ollivander, handing me a copy of The Daily Prophet. "Your return to our world is front page news".

MYSTERY HEIR TO THE BLACK FAMILY FORTUNE EMERGES!

By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

The Black family—one of the most notorious and powerful pure-blood wizarding families in Britain—has long been shrouded in mystery, scandal, and tragedy. But, my dear readers, brace yourselves for a revelation that will send shockwaves through our society.

I, Rita Skeeter, your trusted source for the juiciest and most scandalous stories, have uncovered the existence of a previously unknown heir to the infamous Black family fortune. That's right—a new Black has risen from the shadows, and his name is none other than Antecanis James Black, son of the disgraced Sirius Orion Black.

For those who need a refresher (although, really, who could forget?), Sirius Black was convicted of mass murder, and among his many Muggle victims was the wizard Peter Pettigrew, back in 1981. What is less commonly known is that he did this after he betrayed the Potters, including his supposed best friend James Potter, to You-Know-Who.

He was confined in Azkaban until his recent and rather unremarkable death. Most believed that the Black family was as good as extinguished, with no legitimate heirs to claim the vast wealth and properties of the family. But in a twist of fate worthy of the most thrilling drama series, a mysterious young man has come forward to inherit everything.

Antecanis James Black—yes, you read that name correctly—is none other than the secret son of Sirius Orion Black. Where has he been all these years, you ask? Why is it that no one has ever heard of him? How, in Merlin's name, has the Ministry of Magic managed to overlook such a vital person?

Rumour has it that this young Black has been living in the Muggle world, raised in near obscurity in a Muggle orphanage, of all places! One wonders whether this was a deliberate attempt to keep him hidden from the prying eyes of the wizarding world or if he was simply abandoned.

Sources inside Gringotts have confirmed that Antecanis Black is due to inherit the legendary Black fortune, as well as any properties the family still possesses. But who is this mysterious young man, and what does his return to the Wizarding World mean for the rest of us?

Black by Blood, But Not by Allegiance?

Perhaps the most tantalising question of all is where Antecanis Black's loyalties lie. Will he follow in his father's footsteps, aligning himself with the dangerous forces of chaos that once threatened our world, or will he prove to be a new kind of Black—one who seeks to restore honour to the family's tarnished name?

Speculation is rife. Some suggest that Antecanis Black, having grown up away from dark influences, might be quite different from his father. Though that seems unlikely, given the Black family's deep involvement in dark magic.

One thing is certain: Antecanis Black will not go unnoticed for long. No doubt, many will be interested in this unexpected addition to the Black bloodline.

Danger Ahead?

Some might see Antecanis as merely a beneficiary of an old family name and fortune. However, with the Black wealth being so vast and with access to the family's dark artefacts, who's to say what he might do next?

Let's not forget the dark history of the Black family itself: cursed objects, blood feuds, and a propensity for aligning with the wrong side of history. Could this young man, with his secretive past and unknown ambitions, ever be trusted to turn his back on his family's dark history?

What Next for the Heir?

Of course, I, Rita Skeeter, shall leave no stone unturned in my quest to unravel the enigma that is Antecanis Black. Where has he been all these years? When did he learn about his inheritance? And most intriguingly of all—what does he plan to do with it? You can rest assured that more revelations will come in time, dear readers.

Stay tuned, as only I, Rita Skeeter, can uncover the truth behind this new chapter in the legacy of the Black family. Keep your eyes on The Daily Prophet—this story is only just beginning.

"Bloody hell!" I swore.

The woman—I'd hardly call her a journalist, as that would be an insult to the profession—might as well have told the entire Wizarding World I was a dark wizard in training. And how the hell did she know I'd grown up in an orphanage? Guesswork maybe? Some sort of record?

Mr Ollivander chose not to comment on my outburst or the article, focusing instead on why my hair had changed colour and style, which shifted when I got emotional.

"Oh, you're a Metamorphmagus!" the old wizard exclaimed. "Just like your cousin".

Yeah, she was training to be an Auror, if I remember correctly. She probably wouldn't want anything to do with me, as she didn't know Sirius was innocent, or maybe she did and might treat me fairly. Regardless, the Tonks family either didn't know about me or they knew and didn't care. Besides, they meant nothing to me.

"Now, as for your wand—your mother..."

I stopped him there, as I was interested in finding out who my mother was supposed to be.

"Mr Ollivander, do you know who my mother is?" I asked.

That stopped the old man in his tracks.

"Of course I do. She was here just the other day, or so it seems. Marlene McKinnon. Her family were some of the finest witches and wizards of their age, all wiped out by You-Know-Who and his followers," he said.

Well, that explained why no one from my mother's side had ever claimed me—they were all dead. And no one from the Black side would have wanted anything to do with me either. I'd gotten royally screwed over in this life. Dark wizards killed my mother, and the good guys locked up my innocent father. No wonder that I wanted nothing to do with either side.

"Your father's wand was dogwood," I was informed. "Dogwood and unicorn hair, thirteen and a quarter inches—a very playful wand".

Ollivander, still watching me with his piercing, perceptive eyes, stepped forward.

"But we are not here to dwell on the past, Mr Black. No, we are here to find your wand—your future companion," he said.

He moved swiftly, scanning the shelves with an expert eye. Wand after wand was pulled from their places, only to be cast aside after brief tests. The silence of the shop was broken only by the occasional spark or gust of wind as I waved various wands. None of them felt right. There was simply no other way to explain it.

"Tricky, tricky," Ollivander muttered, more to himself than to me.

I was starting to wonder if I should leave and look for other wandmakers.

"You're different, Mr Black. A Metamorphmagus, yes, but there's more to you than that, isn't there?" he said.

I wasn't sure if it was a question or an observation; as such, I stayed silent, not wanting to give him more material for whatever conclusions he was drawing. Ollivander finally paused, staring intently at a dusty shelf high up in the corner. With a flick of his wand, a long, thin box floated down into his hands. He opened it carefully and withdrew a wand made of dark, polished wood.

"Hawthorn," he said softly. "Hawthorn wands work best for those of a conflicted nature or those going through a time of turmoil in their lives. Hawthorn wands are adept at both healing and harming others, to match the duality of the wielder".

He handed me the wand, and the moment my fingers wrapped around the smooth, polished wood, warmth surged through my arm. There was no explosion of light or sparks, just a quiet, almost reassuring hum of power.

"This is the one," I said.

Ollivander nodded approvingly.

"Yes, yes. Hawthorn, eleven and a half inches, phoenix feather as a core—I'm not sure where I got that feather from," he admitted.

Right, I was supposed to have a phoenix as a pet because, why wouldn't I, if it was ever an option? Plus, I should probably have an owl, I think.

"A powerful wand indeed—well-suited to those with resilience, those who will not bow to others' will," Ollivander said.

It felt as if a piece of me had been missing all along, and I hadn't realised it until now. This was my wand, as I was its wielder.

I paid him and put the wand away in my pouch of holding (I didn't care what the locals called it). As I turned to leave, Ollivander's voice followed me out the door.

"Good luck, Mr Black," he said, his tone oddly grave. "I have a feeling you'll need it".

As I stepped out of Ollivanders, I was still buzzing with the energy of my new wand, yet the weight of the day was starting to sink in—the inheritance, the article and now the wand that felt as though it had been waiting for me all along. It was all a lot to take in.

The streets of Diagon Alley were bustling, but I felt oddly detached from the noise and activity around me. The article by Rita Skeeter had certainly put a target on my back. I was just lucky no one had any idea of what I looked like, not that this was much of an issue when you can change your looks.

Rather than stand there and plot revenge on Rita Skeeter, I decided to get on with my shopping, picking up a trunk to carry my things in. I then went to the apothecary for my potion supplies. The shop smelled of herbs and something faintly metallic as I entered. Shelves lined the walls, stocked with everything from dragon liver to powdered root of asphodel.

I couldn't help but feel a certain excitement, as the creation of magic potions was something I knew instinctively that I needed to master, even if I lacked a talent for it. I picked up the basics, following a mental checklist. Nothing fancy, just enough to get me started once I found a tutor who could teach me the basics.

After that, it was on to Flourish and Blotts. If there was one thing I knew about my situation, it was that knowledge was going to be my greatest ally. The shop was crammed with books, each more fascinating than the last. If I had been planning to go to Hogwarts, I would have ended up in Ravenclaw, even if I was almost sure that Slytherin might better suit me, depending on how it was decided.

I lost myself for a while within the shelves, gathering texts on defensive magic, duelling strategies, and the history of magical bloodlines. I paused at one particular book: The Dark Arts: A Comprehensive Study. I debated for a moment before slipping it into my growing pile. Currently, I wasn't planning on following in the footsteps of my so-called family, but it would be foolish not to understand what I might face and who knows what the future might bring. Besides, if it were in a shop that children had access to, it was likely to be all theory.

With a trunk full of books and other supplies, I made my way back out into the street, thinking about the next step. I needed a place to stay. My father's properties would be available to me, including a decrepit old manor full of dark relics. I needed somewhere quiet, somewhere I could lay low while I figured things out, and that townhouse seemed as good a place as any. I should leave Diagon Alley, summon the Knight Bus and go directly there.

As I walked, my mind wandered back to the revelation about my mother, Marlene McKinnon. I could not recall her name, and I should do something about that, as it felt wrong not to know my own background at least somewhat, and what if I had family on my mother's side who simply hadn't known about me? No, I wasn't going to go down that road; I didn't owe them anything. I needed to look after myself.

Before I could leave the alley, there was a noise as a bird with black feathers tipped with gold came flying at me, and before I could do anything about it, I was covered in golden flames.

Paint It Black

Part 4

Wools Orphanage - London.

Professor Severus Tobias Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School and Head of House Slytherin, rarely went out into the Muggle world these days, even though he had grown up in the town of Cokeworth, and he despised having to meet with potential students when whose students had parents hadn't attended Hogwarts, or in this case, weren't around to explain to their children how to prepare for their education.

Not because he was a bigot, he wasn't even a Pureblood, but rather, he simply didn't like children. He didn't like working as a teacher or having to interact with people in general, he'd much rather be working on some research in a lab on his own, but this was part of his duty as a teacher and as much as he didn't want to have anything to do with the spawn of Sirius Black he needed to be here to find out more about the boy.

Antecanis James Black was the boy's name. Black must have named the boy before he chose to betray his so-called friend and then dumped the little bastard here before going after Peter Pettigrew, or maybe even before that, and the brat should be grateful for this, as Sirius Black was not someone who should be allowed around children. He shouldn't have been allowed near them even when he was a child.

Whoever the mother was, she'd never claim the boy, so he had grown up in this abysmal place; perhaps he had been some Muggle that Black had seduced with magic or some witch more interested in gold than anything else a wizard might offer. Getting stuck in this place was no less than the spawn of Black deserved, and if not for the fact that this boy might be a threat to Harry Potter, then Snape would have been happy to leave him here.

Alas, it was the custom of the school to follow up on letters sent to Muggleborn and those raised in the Muggles with visits from teachers to explain things and to take the future students to pick up their school equipment. Normally, one of the more sociable teachers would be sent.

Snape had decided to do this for the young Black, so he could take a look into the boy's mind and see if he was following in his father's steps, so that at least Snape would know to keep a close eye on the boy. Which he would have done anyway, given his parentage, it was more of a matter of knowing how much trouble the boy would be before he got to the school.

The orphanage loomed ahead of him, as grim and soulless as he had expected. It was an unwelcoming building, with narrow windows and peeling paint, a fitting place for the unwanted and forgotten. Snape approached the heavy front door, pausing for a moment before knocking on the front door.

Slowly, the door creaked open to reveal a middle-aged woman with a stern expression and an air of exhaustion about her. No doubt she was some overworked government employee. Snape was not without sympathy for others, even if he kept it buried, and would not bother this Muggle any more than he had to.

"Yes?" she asked sharply, her eyes narrowing at the sight of him.

"I am here to see Mr Antecanis Black," Snape said, his voice clipped and emotionless.

The woman hesitated, suspicion flickering in her eyes.

"Are you from the police?" she asked, "We weren't expecting anyone so soon".

Snape offered a thin smile that did nothing to soften his cold demeanour. Naturally, the boy was a troublemaker.

"My name is Severus Snape, I am from the school he will be attending," explained Snape "His name was put down shortly after he was born".

Even Black had the foresight to ensure that his offspring had a place at Hogwarts. Not that parents needed to go to such trouble, Hogwarts had a special book that would send out invites to all the magical children when they became old enough to start safely studying magic. At least the boy wouldn't have to worry about funding his education if the newspaper had reported correctly about this Black brat inheriting the family fortune.

"He's not here, he packed up his stuff a few days ago and vanished," she explained, "I called the police to let them know, but he's seventeen and left on his own, so there isn't much they can do about it".

Snape was unsure of what to do next. Did Antecanis Black somehow know about the Wizarding World and leave to seek his place in it, or did he run away from it upon realising that the Wizarding World had remembered him? The fact that Antecanis had left of his own accord raised troubling questions, even if it wasn't as worrying as if he had been taken away by someone or outright murdered.

Snape didn't believe in coincidences. If Black's son had left the orphanage so suddenly, there had to be a reason. Someone—perhaps even the Ministry or a Death Eater remnant—could have sought him out. If that was the case, Snape needed to know before the boy became a pawn in someone else's game, and as much as he loathed Sirius Black, even that bastard's offspring shouldn't end up the captive of a Death Eater.

"Did he say where he might go?" Snape asked, his tone more urgent now.

The woman shook her head.

"Not a word. He was always quiet and kept to himself. Honestly, we didn't expect him to last here as long as he did as it's the little ones who get adopted the most often, but no one wanted him" said the orphanage's employee "He didn't leave any notes, and he never mentioned anyone or anything that would suggest where he'd gone, he just took what little he had and left".

Snape's mind was working fast. The boy's sudden departure could not be ignored. He would need to inform Dumbledore, even though he was reluctant to involve himself further, as the Headmaster might suggest having Snape reach out to the boy or worse, offering him protection, assuming that this boy could be found. Snape had no desire to get involved with yet another member of the Black family.

"Very well," Snape said after a long pause. "Thank you for your time".

Without waiting for her to respond, he turned and walked away. He was already planning his next moves. No doubt, he would have to go out into the world and find Antecanis Black. Not for the boy's sake, but because he needed to know where the boy's loyalties lay. If Black had inherited his father's recklessness, he might become a greater danger than anyone had yet anticipated, even if he had no interest in the dark arts.

Severus Snape strode away from the grim walls of Wool's Orphanage, deep in thought as he moved through the streets of Muggle London. His mind was filled with questions, none of which had easy answers. He made his way to a secluded alley and, with only a slight crack, he disappeared from the Muggle world.

Moments later, he stood outside the gates of Hogwarts Castle. He moved swiftly through the grounds, his destination clear: Dumbledore's office. Snape knew that Albus needed to be informed as soon as possible. Antecanis's disappearance could not be taken lightly, especially with the lingering dangers from the remnants of Lord Voldemort's followers. That boy's wealth could do a lot of harm in the wrong hands.

The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office leapt aside at Snape's approach, as though it sensed the urgency of his visit. He ascended the spiral staircase, his footsteps echoing until he reached the familiar door. Without knocking, he entered, as there was no need to, the Headmaster already knew who wanted to see him.

Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, his half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his crooked nose as he perused some correspondence. He glanced up, his blue eyes a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said, his voice calm with just a hint of concern. "By your presence here so early in the day, I take it your effort to meet with young Mr Black did not go well".

Snape wasted no time with pleasantries.

"Antecanis Black is gone," he said flatly "The boy left the orphanage days ago. No word, no sign of where he might have gone. The woman in charge barely noticed his absence, and she didn't seem overly concerned either, but given his age, all she could do was contact the police and let them know".

Dumbledore's expression grew grave, though not surprised; he must have already deduced that there would be trouble.

"I see," he said, setting aside his work. "And you believe this disappearance is more than him simply leaving to find his own way in the world".

That the Black boy had vanished so soon after getting a Hogwarts letter, a message that should have made no sense to him, was concerning, and if he hadn't been in contact with the Wizarding World, then he shouldn't have known where to go to claim his inheritance. Not unless he had help.

"I do not believe in coincidences," Snape replied, his voice cold. "If Black left of his own accord, it could mean any number of things. He may have discovered his heritage, or someone may have sought him out. We cannot afford to ignore this, not when Malfoy is already wealthy enough to keep that fool Fudge in office".

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in thought.

"Indeed, the timing is troubling. Antecanis Black could be an important part of the future of our nation. His wealth and family name have a certain power behind them. It would not be wise to allow certain people to gain influence over him," the old wizard mused.

Snape hadn't given much thought to the politics involved. The family name of Black could open many doors for the young man despite his parentage.

"I would not trust him," he said bluntly. "The boy is Sirius Black's son, after all. No doubt he will be reckless, arrogant, and dangerous".

Dumbledore nodded slowly, his eyes darkening.

"Sirius was reckless, yes, and dangerous," he agreed "But this Antecanis… he has been raised away from both the Wizarding World and his family, none of which are left. We know nothing of the boy's character, Severus. We must not rush to judge him, not until we get the chance to examine him and to do that, he must be here at Hogwarts. There might be hope for the lad if he is nurtured in the right way".

Snape felt a flash of irritation. Dumbledore's relentless optimism was infuriating at times.

"We cannot afford to be soft-hearted about this, Headmaster," he said, his voice sharp. "If Black's son is dangerous, we must be prepared. He may have already fallen into the wrong hands".

Dumbledore sighed, rising from his chair and walking over to the window. He stared out at the grounds for a long moment as if seeking some sort of insight from the view before speaking again.

"I will have our contacts in the Ministry discreetly look into the matter," he said at last. "In the meantime, Severus, I ask you to do what you can to locate Antecanis. He must be found before the wrong hands take hold of him. If he is in danger, we owe it to him to offer some protection; he is still an innocent"

Snape's jaw tightened. The last thing he wanted was to chase after some misguided Black. But Dumbledore's request, though gentle, was not one he could easily refuse, and the Headmaster did have a point about the boy's name as well as his wealth not ending up in the wrong hands.

"As you wish," Snape said stiffly. "But mark my words, Headmaster—if the boy is anything like his father, there will be no saving him".

Dumbledore turned back from the window, his expression solemn.

"Let us hope, Severus, that Antecanis Black is not like his father at all", he muttered.

Snape gave a curt nod and turned to leave, his mind already calculating his next move. He would begin by checking places a person might go to hide. Knockturn Alley would be an obvious starting point, and there were several other contacts Snape could reach out to in the darker corners of wizarding society.

He would do his best to find this Antecanis Black. Whether he would protect him or stop him, however, remained to be seen.

Paint It Black

Part 5

Number 12 Grimmauld Place - London.

I sat in the drawing room of the much-improved house, which had been cleaned by a small army of House Elves whose services I had rented. They had done, in a matter of hours, what wizards could have taken weeks to accomplish. They had managed to separate all the dark, magical items from the harmless stuff and take down that screaming painting of my grandmother. Which I had given to Kreacher to look after.

Since I hadn't known how simple it could be to outsource the problem, I had spent the last few days learning a few simple spells that allowed me to clean and repair parts of the house. Not that this time had been wasted, as learning those spells had allowed me to get used to casting spells, and I started to learn how to use my wand.

"Kreacher has recovered bad old filthy Master's Muggle machine," reported the House Elf.

By that, he meant the flying motorcycle that Sirius Black had lent to Hagrid to transport baby Harry to his magic-hating relatives so he could be abused as Dumbledore planned. "I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years," Dumbledore plainly stated in the book series, openly acknowledging that he knew and allowed Harry to be abused under the pretext of keeping him safe.

Since students started at Hogwarts six years later in this timeline, I could only imagine what the Boy-Who-Lived would be like in this timeline, and I would have to imagine it since I wouldn't be going near that castle. I would rather remain an uneducated wizard than subject myself to the people who could treat orphans that way.

"The filthy Muggle machine is in the garage, bastard master," informed Kreacher.

I didn't care what the House Elf called me as long as he carried out my orders and helped me put my new home in order. As for the bastard part, since we didn't know if my parents had been married, I could be a bastard. I had no way of finding out, and I didn't feel motivated enough to try. It was hardly relevant to my life anyway.

The dark artefacts that were currently hidden away in a trunk in the attic, one of which was a Horcrux, were of far more concern to me than one House Elf's manners. I would have to deal with those cursed things one day, but for now, they were contained.

Again, I considered sending the locket to Dumbledore with a note about it and the locations of the other Horcruxes. But I wasn't sure if that was the right move to make, as I didn't want that old man's attention on me.

"Thank you, Kreacher," I said.

That bike was one of the things I'd purchased using the CYOA, so it was mine even if it hadn't been part of my inheritance. Since it was part of the CYOA, I should have no trouble flying and driving it around.

I was enjoying a cup of tea while reading the paper. I'd sent off a Gringotts postal order to pay for some adverts that should lead to me gaining a tutor or two in different magical subjects, and I wanted to see if the adverts were in the paper.

The front page caught my eye, and I decided to read the article before checking if my advert had been placed.

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin.

For others, this wasn't much to go on, but I knew more about what was happening than most. While I hadn't seen Qurriel, the Hogwarts professor, around when I visited Diagon Alley, that didn't mean anything, as he could have just been elsewhere at the time. Maybe Voldemort was possessing someone else; he might even be haunting the forests of Albina for all I knew, and this break-in was someone else's work, although I highly doubted it.

I turned the page and spat out a bit of my tea when I read the title of the article on page 2:

The Eligible Bachelor: Antecanis Black – Wealthy Heir and Perhaps Britain's Most Eligible Wizard!

By Rita Skeeter

As Hogwarts is soon to open its doors to the next generation of young wizards, this reporter can't help but think about the young witches who will be getting their first tastes of love within its ancient walls as they prepare to take their place in our society and perhaps find their future husband somewhere within the castle.

One of those potential husbands is Antecanis James Black, the wealthy heir of the Black family and sole inheritor of that family's vast estate. His lack of family and need to sire future heirs must be leaving many wondering which witch will catch the eye of this dashing young man.

A Legacy of Wealth and Power

Antecanis Black, the son of notorious wizard Sirius Black, has inherited a substantial fortune, which includes the family's extensive collection of rare artefacts and significant property. His recent reappearance has already caused quite a stir, especially as whispers circulate about the immense wealth tied to the Black family name.

Despite his upbringing, sources close to the young Black reveal that Antecanis is focused on his future, prioritising his education and burgeoning social connections over romantic pursuits. However, with so many eligible witches vying for his attention, one cannot help but wonder if love is on the horizon for the young heir.

What sources? She was just making stuff up.

The Hunt for Love

Having grown up without the support of a loving family. People must wonder how it has shaped his views on love and relationships.

I couldn't read the rest of the article as I felt a bit ill and worried. Rita Skeeter had just rung the dinner bell for every gold-digging witch in the magical world, and reminded all the con artists, corrupt Ministry workers, and other crooks that one of the richest wizards in the country had no one on his side and little understanding of the Wizarding World.

This was the social equivalent of covering me in barbecue sauce and throwing me to a pack of hungry hippogriffs.

"Perhaps going to school abroad isn't such a bad idea," I muttered.

Just then, the front door opened, and someone tripped over the umbrella stand. This was alarming, as no one should be able to enter the house; it was believed to have every magical protection possible.

"The Bastard Master is not at home to visitors," said Kreacher. "The clumsy Half-blood should leave".

While I didn't know any spells to help me drive off an intruder, I still reached for my wand.

"Oh, shut it!" said a female voice.

I carefully moved out of the drawing room and found a pink-haired woman in her early to mid-twenties having a go at my House Elf.

"How the hell did you get in here?" I demanded to know.

This house was supposed to be secure.

"My mum was born a Black, so the house recognises me as part of the family even if Mum got blown off the family tapestry," explained the woman I knew to be Nymphadora Tonks.

I was not amused by her appearance here.

"So you figured that gave you the right to enter my home uninvited?" I asked.

She at least had the decency to look a little ashamed of her actions.

"I'm here on Ministry business. I'm a trainee Auror; Tonks is my name," she said. "We're sort of cousins if you didn't already know".

That last part meant nothing to me.

"Most people in the Wizarding World are related to each other," I pointed out. "That doesn't give you the right to intrude. If you are here on Ministry business, why aren't you in uniform, and why haven't you shown me any identification?"

She showed me her badge and then walked into the drawing room to take a seat without getting an invitation.

"I'll make this quick since you don't want me here," she said.

At least she'd picked up on that.

"I'm here because you haven't replied to your Hogwarts acceptance letter, and when a member of staff went to your address, you couldn't be found there," Tonks told me. "You'd run off, so I was sent to check up on you and find out why you never sent an owl to the school".

While I didn't think that was why she was here, or at least it wasn't the whole story, it did kind of make sense for the school to want to check up on me.

"I didn't send an owl to Hogwarts because I didn't own an owl until recently, nor have access to one," I explained, "By the time I did, the date for sending replies had already come and gone".

That had changed recently, as an owl had appeared in the house soon after I moved in. I'd named him Archimedes after that rather grumpy owl in the Disney movie Sword in the Stone. I then named my phoenix, who was somewhere around here, Phosphor, after the phoenix in a video game I rather enjoyed, and I still hadn't named my cat, not that he minded.

"And even if I had, I wouldn't have sent a letter, as I have no desire to go to Hogwarts," I stated.

Tonks looked as if I had just slapped her across the face.

"Not go to Hogwarts?" she asked. "Why wouldn't you want to go?"

I had a few good reasons.

"Well, let's see. From what I've heard about the place, it has a ghost for a history teacher who puts students to sleep, a former Death Eater teaching Potions, and, oh yeah, my father is believed to be a mass murderer. Everyone will see me as Sirius Black Junior, and I have no desire to subject myself to their judgments," I answered.

Tonks needed some time to think about that.

"Yeah, I can see your point about all the judgment," she said. "But you need to be taught to control your magic, and Hogwarts is the best place for that".

This shouldn't be a problem.

"I'm currently in the process of hiring tutors," I mentioned.

Tonks did not look convinced by my words.

"The thing is, you really should be supervised full-time when learning magic," she stated, "You don't have any family to look after you".

Please, as if Hogwarts correctly supervised its students.

"I'll pass, thanks. Nothing would kill my enjoyment of learning magic faster than a school environment," I told my unwanted visitor. "I'll hire a gaggle of tutors if that is what it takes to learn".

Most likely, Tonks was here on behalf of Dumbledore, as she was a member of the Order of the Phoenix in the books and could already be one of his minions. I could understand why Dumbledore would want me at his school, even if I would be miserable, as my name and fortune could be useful tools to him. He was more than willing to allow child abuse to take place under his nose if it served his plans.

"I guess if you are doing all right and have things sorted, then I don't need to be here," decided Tonks, who didn't know what to say. "I'll let myself out".

She must have had enough of my frosty attitude toward her.

"I'll just leave these here in case you change your mind about schooling," said the trainee Auror as she left some pamphlets on the coffee table.

Once she was gone and I heard Kreacher do something to the front door that sounded as if it involved chains, I checked the pamphlets, all of which seemed rather old. I ignored the ones about the foreign schools in non-English speaking countries, as I only spoke English, and as I more closely inspected them, one caught my eye.

Nevermore Academy

By the looks of things, it was the same school as seen in the Wednesday series, although she wouldn't be attending, given what year it is, and according to the pamphlet, it did offer classes for witches and Wizards. Also, it was in the States, far from the British Wizarding World, and it was a school for Outcasts. A foreign school was just what I needed. No one would have any reason to care who my father was, even if they had heard about him.

I needed to write a letter and get accepted there as quickly as possible. Before the entire Wizarding World came barging through my front door.

Paint It Black

Part 6

The Ministry of Magic - London

"So, Tonks, how did it go?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt as the witch entered his office.

Trainee Auror Tonks had recently returned from her unofficial assignment, which could have been handled by a regular member of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, a group tasked with general law enforcement rather than by someone preparing to become an Auror. They were supposed to be dark wizard catchers, not the kind of people who made house calls just to check up on someone.

While it wasn't strange for a trainee Auror to be given less important work to prepare them for more dangerous law enforcement that came later, checking up on some kid who hadn't sent an owl to Hogwarts wasn't typical work for Tonks. However, in this case, it had needed to be her, as she was the only member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) who could enter Number 12 Grimmauld Place—or rather, she had been.

She felt fairly certain that she wouldn't be able to simply walk in the front door next time, even if she was technically part of the family. Her mother, Andromeda Tonks, had told her that the Black Townhouse was open to anyone in the family, even those who had taken a different name upon marriage, or had a father who wasn't a Black, but they hadn't been sure if any of its potent magical defences had been altered over the years. Thankfully, they hadn't, and Tonks had been unharmed.

"Well, he's alive and seems to be in good health," Tonks said as she took a seat in Shacklebolt's office. "But he's dead set on not going to Hogwarts, and he wasn't happy to have me in the house".

It was clear to Tonks that, like herself, Shacklebolt found it hard to imagine why someone wouldn't want to go to Hogwarts, as that was just what you did when it was time to learn magic. Sure, there was some homeschooling and a few students even got sent to schools in other countries, but most of the young witches and wizards couldn't wait to get to the castle, just as their parents and grandparents had done.

"Why wouldn't he want to go to Hogwarts?" the wizard asked. "Has he been scared off?"

Tonks shifted in her seat again; she was unsure of what to say.

"He's figured out he wouldn't have an easy time making friends," the witch replied. "And I don't blame him—I had a bit of trouble at school because I had Bellatrix Lestrange as an aunt. I can only imagine what it would be like if she were my Mum".

The recent outbreak of illness at Azkaban meant that Bellatrix Lestrange, among others, was no longer among the living, and while no one mourned for them, it had caused some problems, including having a vast fortune end up in the hands of a young wizard who might as well be a Muggle-Born, given how little he knew of the magical world.

Kingsley Shacklebolt sat back in his chair and sighed softly. He was a seasoned Auror, experienced in dealing with the darkest wizards and the trickiest of magical crimes, so this matter wasn't something he had any experience with, yet it made sense to him to send young Mr Black to the castle. Hogwarts was supposed to be a place of safety and learning, yet here they had a boy determined to avoid it even though he needed to learn about his place in the Wizarding World.

"I suppose I can understand his reluctance," Shacklebolt said thoughtfully after giving the matter some more thought, "But outright refusing to go to Hogwarts? The boy needs to be educated, to learn to act like a wizard".

Tonks shifted in her seat again, unsure if she should mention that she noticed that Black was a Metamorphmagus like her, and she doubted anyone other than her would have detected the slight change that she had noticed during their short conversation. Telling people would only draw more attention to the lad, and that was the last thing he needed. She knew how difficult it could be to be seen as different from your peers.

"There isn't anything we can do," said the witch. "He's got every legal right to hire tutors, and they aren't going to change the law for one wizard, no matter how rich he is".

Shacklebolt nodded in agreement. Even Fudge wouldn't be able to get such a law passed, at least not anytime soon, and frankly, a fair few important people would be happy if Sirius Black's son didn't attend Hogwarts with their children, so such a law was unlikely to be passed.

"Dumbledore won't be happy about this," remarked the wizard. "But he only asked us to find the lad and check up on him. You are right, it isn't our place to tell people how and where they can receive their education. We can only encourage them to do the right thing".

Tonks admired the Headmaster and wanted to help the Professor, but there wasn't much else they could do.

"I'd better go home and tell Mum what happened," said Tonks as she stood up. "Sirius was her favourite cousin when growing up, and she wants to know about his son, not that I have much to tell her".

Her Mum had never believed that Sirius would betray the Potters, and perhaps she was right. They would never know now, as Sirius wasn't around to tell his side of the story, and even when he had been, no one important had wanted to listen.

"Oh, before you go, there was a phoenix spotted in the alley the other day. Did you hear about it?" asked Shacklebolt.

Of course, she had. Those birds were a rare sight.

"The boss wants to keep an eye out for it since it wasn't Dumbledore's bird. Witnesses in the alley say the phoenix vanished with a young wizard, but no one knows who he is," the wizard told her, "Just keep your ear open for any talk of a black and gold bird acting oddly".

It never struck either of them that the magical bird could be connected to the young man they had just been discussing.

Nevermore Academy - Jericho.

While the school was closed over the summer, Larissa Weems, the Principal of Nevermore, needed to be in her office to complete some paperwork, such as sorting out new admissions that had been arriving at the school over the summer, and there were always readmissions for returning students that she needed to confirm.

It wasn't odd for the occasional letter to reach her via an owl, as they had some magical students here at Nevermore. However, she had never before had a phoenix simply appear in her office and deliver a letter. Given that the wondrous, magical creature decided to rest on her umbrella stand rather than leave, Larissa assumed that the phoenix was waiting for her to reply.

Even here in Vermont, those aware of the magical communities had heard of Albus Dumbledore, the only wizard known to have a phoenix as a companion. So, when Larissa opened the letter, after recovering from the shock of the magical creature suddenly appearing in her office, she was surprised to see that the message was not from Headmaster Dumbledore.

It was from a wizard named Antecanis Jmaes Black. While Larissa had heard much about Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort, she was not an expert on British Wizarding society by any means, yet the surname Black sounded familiar. The educator wondered if the wizarding family had a branch here in America, but she quickly put the thought out of her mind. The letter should tell her what she needed to know.

Principal Larissa Weems

Nevermore Academy

Jericho, Vermont, USA

Dear Principal Weems,

I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Antecanis Black, and I am writing in hopes of securing a place at Nevermore Academy for my magical education.

While I was originally set to attend Hogwarts, I do not believe it would be wise for me to go due to my father having been accused of multiple murders when I was a baby. Though he is now dead, the Wizarding community in Britain is not known for its tolerance of those they see as different, and I do not think I would be welcomed at Hogwarts by the students.

Despite my desire for solitude and my wish to hire private tutors, I have been pressured into attending a magic school, and I feel that Nevermore would be the most suitable for me, as it would be wise for me to stay out of the public eye here in Britain, at least until I am equipped to face the magical community on better terms.

As the last surviving member of an old pure-blood family, I will be of interest to many people, but I am not yet ready to handle them, and I am concerned that people will try to take advantage of me.

Your school is known for accepting outcasts, and since I have inherited my family's wealth, I can afford any tuition fees, and I am free to make a large donation to help smooth things over, should my presence at your school cause issues. To be honest, given my family's dark history, you would be doing me a favour by accepting a charitable donation from me.

The pamphlet I was given doesn't go into great detail about the magical classes you offer and appears to be out of date. So if possible, I would very much appreciate an opportunity to discuss my potential enrollment, my special requirements, and my donation with you in person.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I eagerly await your response and hope to hear from you soon. Please pass your reply to Phosphor, the phoenix, and he will bring it directly to me.

Yours sincerely,

Antecanis James Black

Larissa Weems sat back in her chair and wondered what to make of this request. Her school had often hosted witches and wizards born in this country with mixed heritages, but most humans with magic usually preferred the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The sad truth was that most parents would rather educate their children themselves than let them mix with students from Nevermore. So, for a wizard from a British Pureblood family to request to attend Nevermore? That was very odd, as far as she knew, it had never happened in the history of Nevermore Academy.

Weems couldn't help thinking about the offer of a donation, which might seem like a bribe. But the letter mentioned special requirements, suggesting that Antecanis Black needed a specialised education. That wasn't unusual at Nevermore, which had a variety of students with extraordinary needs. Nor was it odd for Nevermore to accept donations to help improve their facilities.

As for the Black family, that name had sounded familiar, and what little she did know was now coming back to her. The name stirred faint memories of articles she'd read years ago from international publications that had, for a time, been very focused on the actions of the Dark Lord Voldemort and his followers, who had worried the entire magical world.

Weems picked up the letter again and read it more carefully. To her, it seemed as if Antecanis Black wasn't just asking for an education; he was asking for sanctuary, a place to retreat to where his lineage would not be a burden. She could sympathise with that. After all, Nevermore had always been a refuge for those who didn't fit in, herself included.

She couldn't deny her curiosity about his situation. A young man who had inherited great wealth, burdened by his family's dark history and with a desire for solitude, there was more here than just a troubled legacy. Could this young man be in some sort of danger?

As for these special requirements? What kind of magical training would he require? That was something she would need to discuss with her staff if young Mr Black was going to attend this school.

Nevermore had always been flexible when it came to making sure that their students could learn comfortably, sometimes that involved something simple, such as alterations to the uniform or supplying equipment for clubs. By the sounds of things, Mr Black might need more, and Weems was open to discussing that.

The offer of a donation lingered in her mind, and while Weems wasn't swayed by such things, Nevermore wasn't a place to be bought. The fact that he mentioned it suggested that he anticipated resistance to being accepted at this school. He likely believed that even in America, his family's troubled past could cause problems for him.

Weems quickly made her decision. She sat back down at her desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. Some of the families who had been sending their members to be students here for generations liked the old-world touch when it came to letters.

When it came to wizards and witches from Europe, who were very attached to their traditions, they would take offence if sent a typed letter or even one written on plain paper with a pen. No wonder the rest of the world seemed to be passing them by.

Dear Mr Black,

The arrival of Phosphor, your phoenix, was indeed unexpected but impressive. I have never seen such an impressive magical creature, and I understand from your letter that your situation is a complex one.

Nevermore Academy has long prided itself on offering sanctuary to those who do not fit the traditional moulds of society, be they magical or monstrous. We welcome students who need a place where their different talents can be nurtured rather than shunned. That said, your circumstances are unique, and I must admit that your family's reputation, while not familiar to me, raises important questions regarding your enrollment request.

You mention special requirements. This, along with your expressed concerns about remaining out of the public eye, leads me to believe that your situation may demand more than a standard magical education. It is important to me that I fully understand the nature of these requirements so that we may assess how best to accommodate you, should you join our school.

I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss these matters in greater detail. Given the complexity of your background and your hesitation to attend Hogwarts, I am concerned and feel that an in-person discussion will allow us to explore your educational needs more thoroughly. If travel to Vermont is inconvenient, I can arrange to visit you in person.

As for your offer of a donation, please know that we at Nevermore value our students for who they are, not for what they can offer financially. While I appreciate the gesture, your presence here would not be contingent on such contributions. Instead, I ask for transparency and cooperation as we work together to determine if Nevermore is truly the right fit for your educational and personal needs.

Please send Phosphor back with your reply, as soon as you can, and I will make the necessary arrangements to meet with you at your earliest convenience.

Yours sincerely,

Larissa Weems

Principal of Nevermore Academy

Weems sealed the letter with a firm press of her wax seal, another touch of the old world, and turned to the phoenix, which seemed to already understand that it was time to deliver the response. With a graceful flap of its wings, Phosphor took flight, snatching up the offered letter, and within moments, the magnificent bird was gone, disappearing in golden flames.

Weems looked forward to meeting this young wizard and finding out if he could fit into the school. Nevermore had always been a place for those with nowhere else to go, and it seemed this young man was just as much in need of Nevermore as any of her other students.

Paint It Black

Part 7

Nevermore Academy - Jericho.

In a burst of golden fire provided by my phoenix familiar—calling him a pet just seemed wrong—I appeared at the front entrance of the school I hoped to attend as a student. Unless I had messed up the number of time zones involved, I should have been just in time for my appointment with Headmistress Weems, or Principal Weems, to use the American term for her position. I hadn't appeared directly in her office, as that would have been rude, and I appeared to be on time as the principal was waiting to guide me to her office.

"Welcome to Nevermore, Mr Antecanis Black," greeted the leader of Nevermore Academy, who was able to act as if she hadn't just seen him appear in a burst of golden fire, "As I'm sure you've guessed, I am Principal Weems. If you follow me to my office, we can get started".

While I didn't get much of a chance to see the school as we walked to her office, I saw enough to notice how devoid of students it was. What I did see felt unnatural somehow. I suspected that this was because the place should have been filled with people, and that was why this place was giving me the feeling of walking through an abandoned house, only magnified.

The principal's office contained an unlit fireplace and a desk covered with various kinds of paperwork, some much more modern than what I had seen in the Wizarding World. The room was elegantly decorated with numerous lamps, several chandeliers, and plush armchairs, which I guessed were used during less formal meetings or social calls. It felt like a living space rather than just someone's place of work.

Soon, Principal Weems was seated in a large leather armchair behind her desk, and she invited me to sit across from her.

"Before we discuss anything else, do you have the paperwork for the wand permit, Mr Black?" she asked. "MACUSA is rather strict about such things, even here in Jericho, and while there is a grace period for this sort of thing, I'd rather not have MACUSA complaining to me about a student having an unregistered wand".

The Magical Congress of the United States of America (abbreviated as MACUSA) was the magical governing body here in the U.S. It was led by the President of MACUSA. From what I knew, MACUSA was even worse than the British Ministry when it came to sucking the joy and wonder out of magic through bureaucracy.

Until quite recently, Rappaport's Law had been strictly enforced in this country. To ensure complete conformity with the law, only upon reaching the age of majority (seventeen) would a witch or wizard be legally allowed to carry a wand. Even now, you still require a wand permit, although wand use is not as strictly monitored as it used to be.

In contrast, in Britain, you simply went to Ollivanders and bought one. No paperwork at all. I suspected that the only reason why I hadn't needed to fill out a dozen forms to travel by Phoenix is that it is so rare for them to interact with humans.

"How do things differ here in Jericho?" I asked as I handed over the permit.

Before she replied, the principal picked up my paperwork and looked it over. That had to be sorted out before we could discuss my enrollment, as otherwise, I wouldn't be allowed to stay in the country. She would handle sending it to MACUSA, and soon, I would have the magical equivalent of a student visa. This would allow me to stay in the U.S. for several years to study while at this school.

This way, I wouldn't have to go through the long process of immigrating or obtaining joint citizenship, something the British Ministry might try to block if they feared I would take my wealth out of the U.K. However, going abroad to school was legal, and MACUSA wasn't going to be intimidated by the British Ministry, even if they made a fuss about me leaving Britain to attend school here.

"Jericho, and Nevermore in particular, operates under certain unique circumstances," the principal said, her tone deliberate, as though she was weighing her words carefully. "MACUSA's regulations, particularly concerning wands, still apply here. However, since Nevermore caters to a more... eclectic student body than other magical schools, allowances are made so we can educate those with special magical abilities and backgrounds. While the existence of magic is kept hidden, the people of this town are aware that the school and its students are not normal, even if they don't know why this is".

I understood what she meant, as 'Outcast' was a colloquial term used to describe people with abnormal abilities, such as psychics, werewolves, and gorgons. Those without any such abilities were called 'normies', and there was a certain amount of tension between the two groups, as both sides had attacked each other many times in the past.

Another important thing I understood was that most people in this world didn't know what the term truly meant or just how far from human some outcasts were. They likely perceived the students as having special needs or something along those lines. I got the impression that they didn't want to know.

"Of course, Mr Black, you're no ordinary student even by Nevermore's standards. That's been made clear to me by the letters we exchanged ahead of your arrival," Principal Weems continued. "Your background is a bit more complex than that of other students. Perhaps you'd like to clarify what exactly it is you expect from your time here at Nevermore Academy".

Since arranging this meeting had taken a few days and many letters to sort out the details, I'd had some time to think about how I wanted to present myself to the headmistress of this strange school.

"I need somewhere secure, outside of Britain, to learn about magic. But beyond that, I'm looking to better understand the world in its entirety, not just the supernatural parts. I hope that, should I ever return to Britain, I will do so as a wizard with an understanding of how the world works, rather than as someone who, until a couple of weeks ago, was an orphan living in London".

When I wrote my letters, I had intended to give the impression that I was a vulnerable social outcast seeking sanctuary, which was true, to rouse sympathy.

"My education in what they call the Muggle world back home has left me unprepared to be a wealthy wizard, and going to Hogwarts would feel like throwing myself in the deep end of a pool full of sharks," I explained. "I need time to adjust and learn who I've become".

Hopefully, I was explaining myself well enough.

"Nevermore's strength lies in its acceptance of our students' differences," I was told by the Principal. "Here, students are encouraged to explore not just their special abilities but their identities".

She leaned forward slightly, clasping her hands on the desk.

"However, there's something you should understand—Nevermore is not without its own set of rules," she warned. "We maintain certain standards of behaviour here to ensure safety for everyone, magical and non-magical alike. The students who come here, much like yourself, are often gifted but troubled, or at the very least, they are... complicated. We have to guide them responsibly".

I nodded, understanding her underlying message. Nevermore wasn't a free-for-all; it had its boundaries, even if they were less constricting than MACUSA's or the Ministry's back in Britain. This was a place for the outcasts and the exceptional, but still within a controlled framework.

"As for your wand permit," she continued by saying, "Everything appears to be in order. You'll need to renew it annually while you're studying here, and any misuse of magic on or off school grounds will be reported directly to MACUSA. Much like in Britain, there are rules about self-defence. Using magic to protect yourself and others is acceptable as long as you're reasonable about it. I have booklets that explain the basics of wizarding law in this country. The laws have become more relaxed in recent decades, so you will have more freedom to enjoy magic than you would have done in the past".

For all the freedom and safety Nevermore might offer me, at least compared to Hogwarts, it still operated under American magical law. So I would need to be careful about how I practised magic.

"Now, when it comes to your phoenix, there are no laws governing its behaviour because it's so rare for a phoenix to become a wizard's companion. Travel by Phoenix is not regulated or traceable," she explained, telling me what I already suspected "So no one can stop you from coming and going as you please, but if you expose their existence by appearing by fire in normie areas, you will face prosecution".

That was as expected. Travelling to the world via a phoenix might seem awesome, but it could get me into trouble.

"As for enrollment," she said, smoothly transitioning, "We'll need to finalise a few details, but I trust you're already aware that Nevermore's curriculum is designed for students with unique gifts. Your talents will find a place here at Nevermore; it's just a matter of creating a timetable suited to your needs that the staff can accommodate".

We would need to agree on a lightly filled timetable, as I would require plenty of time for self-study and tutors.

"Don't worry, Mr Black. I expect you'll fit in quite well here," she assured me "Now let me show you around, so you can better see what Nevermore has to offer".

With that, she stood, signalling the end of our formal discussion—at least the part that would take place in her office. As we walked, Principal Weems pointed out various sections of the school.

"Over there is the library," she said, nodding toward an arched doorway. "It contains a vast collection of texts, some dating back centuries, many of which you'll find useful for your studies—both magical and otherwise".

I glanced at the door, intrigued by the possibilities of what lay within. The Black family library was impressive, but that was just the collection of books in the townhouse. It wouldn't compare to what even a small magical school could offer.

"Nevermore prides itself on fostering not just the academic growth of its students but also their personal development," she continued. "Our students are encouraged to explore their talents, not just in class, but also as part of one or more of our many clubs".

We passed a tower where I could make out a circular observatory at its peak.

"Astronomy and Divination classes are held up there," Weems said, catching my gaze. "We offer classes equivalent to Britain's OWL programs in those two subjects".

As we discussed the lessons I could take, it seemed to me that this school was far more flexible compared to the stricter curriculum of Hogwarts or what I had read of other magical schools. This made sense given the diversity of the student body, some of whom couldn't use magic at all, at least not in the way I did.

"I assume you'll want to focus on magical theory as well as practical application," she said, turning to glance at me with a knowing expression. "But since you will need to attend classes that will lead to passing OWL exams upon your return to Britain, I suggest a course made up of Astromancy, Divination, and Botany, which at Nevermore covers magical and non-magical plants. We also have a biology class that covers magical creatures and the Outcast races, such as vampires and werewolves. That class, along with some self-study, should give you what you need for a passing grade in subjects ranging from Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures, to Potions and Charms, with aid from the tutors you plan to hire".

I felt sure that with the aid of tutors, I should get more than a passing grade in these subjects. I'd selected some options in the CYOA that would help.

"You'll find that the students here are all outcasts in one way or another, but that also means they form strong bonds. I trust you'll do the same in time," the teacher said.

I nodded as I agreed. While forging friendships hadn't been my priority when I sought to enrol, it was clear that Weems expected some level of integration, and if I were to become an important wizard, I would need to work on my social skills.

"There is one last thing," she said, her voice taking on a more serious tone as she led me toward a secluded area of the courtyard, to take us away from prying eyes, not that there was anyone to see us as far as I could tell. "Your presence at Nevermore will not go unnoticed by others, both within and outside the school. You must be cautious, not just of those who dislike Outcasts, but of individuals who may wish to take advantage of you. Distance from your homeland and your place in this school can only shelter you so much".

It sounded as though the principal had already accepted that I would be a student of her school. Now we just need to agree on a timetable and talk about my donation. Even the best schools had room for improvement, and I felt sure that my family's money would be spent well.

Paint It Black.

Part 8.

Dumbledore's Office - Hogwarts School.

The Headmaster didn't even have to pick up the morning newspaper to know that he would be disappointed in its contents. All he had to do was look down at the paper on his desk and see the name of the author of the article to know he was going to be annoyed with what it had to report.

Miss Skeeter had always been a gossip lover, even before she had set foot in Hogwarts, and during her time at the castle, she had enjoyed causing trouble by twisting the words of others and by spreading rumours. She hadn't grown out of this habit since leaving the castle; all that had changed was that she had refined her methods and found a larger audience.

In some ways, it was a shame. Had Miss Skeeter devoted herself to serious research with half as much zeal as she did to find interesting facts to embellish, she could have done well for herself in the Department of Mysteries or become a serious magical historian the likes of which the Wizarding World had not seen since Bathilda Bagshot was in her prime.

Not that many who attended Hogwarts ever chose that as a career, given the poor teaching methods of Professor Binns. It was a shame that the school board was so tight-fisted when it came to funding, or they could have hired a new history professor—but they didn't have to pay ghosts, and the Ministry wouldn't provide extra funding.

After a fortifying cup of tea, Albus Dumbledore picked up the newspaper and began to read what passed for journalism these days.

Young Heir Snubs Hogwarts?

By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent.

According to sources within the Ministry, Antecanis James Black, the newly discovered heir to the once-powerful Black family, has chosen not to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This move, which some have called a snub to Britain's premier magical institution, raises questions about the boy's upbringing, motivations, and even potential ambitions beyond our shores.

Readers will remember that Antecanis Black, now known as the last legitimate scion of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, was only recently discovered to be the son of Azkaban inmate Sirius Black, and he was, until a few short weeks ago, reported to be living as an orphan in Muggle London.

How the young wizard managed to escape the notice of magical society for so long is a question that remains unanswered, and certain sources within the Ministry suggest that not all the details of this revelation are as clear-cut as they appear.

However, the most scandalous development is not his sudden appearance, but rather, his absence—specifically from Hogwarts. While young wizards and witches across the nation have eagerly sent their replies to their acceptance letters, no such letter was sent to the school by Antecanis Black.

Instead, sources confirm that he has chosen to attend Nevermore Academy, an American institution known for catering to what some might delicately call eccentric students, or what others would more bluntly describe as half-breeds, squibs, and outcasts.

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, who has for years supported the notion that Hogwarts is the best place for young witches and wizards, had this to say: "We extend an invitation to every eligible magical child in Britain. However, where families decide to educate their children is ultimately their own decision".

While it is legal for a young witch or wizard to study at home or attend a school abroad, there are whispers, my dear readers, that the decision to avoid Hogwarts was not entirely Antecanis' own, and that those who don't wish the son of Sirius Black to walk the same halls as their children have made threats, driving this young man out of the country.

Others claim that Nevermore Academy is merely a convenient hideaway for the child to avoid the probing eyes of the British wizarding press and, dare I say, those at the Ministry who remain suspicious of all things Black.

"Choosing Nevermore suggests he might be seeking something Hogwarts cannot offer—or something he wants to avoid," one Ministry official hinted, preferring to remain unnamed. "It's a calculated move, worthy of House Slytherin, for sure".

This reporter has a few theories about young Antecanis Black. Could it be that he harbours ambitions beyond the constraints of Hogwarts, and perhaps even beyond the constraints of Britain? My dear readers, it is no secret that some magical families prefer a certain distance from the Ministry's watchful eye. And with his family's checkered history, one must wonder what guidance, or misguidance, Antecanis Black is receiving, and from whom.

And what of Nevermore? The American academy, nestled deep in the woods of Jericho, is said to be home to students with peculiar abilities—psychics, shapeshifters, and creatures most of us would only read about in our copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

While Britain's Ministry of Magic dismisses the academy as a place for those with 'less traditional magical abilities,' one can't help but wonder if that is a diplomatic way of saying the school welcomes those whom other institutions might find too challenging—or too dangerous for others to handle.

Could it be that young Antecanis Black fits that description and is no ordinary wizard? Or perhaps Antecanis simply wishes to escape the expectations and scrutiny of being Black at Hogwarts. Being compared to his infamous father cannot be easy, and forging his own path may be exactly what the young heir seeks to do.

Whatever the reason, Antecanis's choice certainly has a lot of people speculating. What secrets lie behind this decision? Is he avoiding Hogwarts for his own safety, or is something-or even someone—at Nevermore offering him more than just an education?

Only time will tell if this young wizard's choices will lead him to greatness or infamy. But rest assured, dear readers, this intrepid reporter will keep you informed of every twist and turn in the growing saga of Antecanis Black.

Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent.

While Dumbledore did not approve of Miss Skeeter's choice of career, he would admit to himself, if no one else, that she was rather good at it. Albus felt sure that Rita was self-aware enough to know she was the one shining the light on Antecanis Black so brightly that he'd want to hide from it, and she had done it on purpose.

Albus Dumbledore liked to think well of people, but he was concerned that one day Miss Skeeter would get the public so riled up about something that she'd end up creating a lynch mob, and some poor soul would suffer due to her acid tongue and wicked way with words.

His efforts to guide the young Black wizard onto the proper path were not helped by these articles, not that he had much luck trying. He knew where Antecanis Black could be found: in Grimmauld Place, which was worrying as it meant the boy had access to many cursed objects and unsuitable reading material. It also meant he was isolated from any positive influences, such as right-minded people.

Young Nymphadora Tonks had managed to make contact when Dumbledore had requested the aid of an Auror he was friendly with, but the young witch hadn't had much luck trying to convince Antecanis Black to attend Hogwarts, where he could be helped to learn what it meant to be a wizard.

The young man should be coming to this school. Yes, it would have been awkward at first, but the students would have adapted to his presence. After all, Sirius had been a Black who was sorted into Gryffindor when all of his family were Slytherins, and he had made good friends during his years here at Hogwarts.

Granted, he had later betrayed those friends, but that wasn't the fault of those friends, and Dumbledore had never been totally convinced that Sirius had simply betrayed James Potter. There had been more going on, but Barty Crouch Senior had insisted on throwing Black into Azkaban without so much as questioning the young man.

Dumbledore had decided not to look into the matter more closely, as Sirius Black would not have been a suitable guardian for Harry Potter. He would have been too reckless, putting Harry in danger, and he would have spoiled the boy. Better for Harry to enter the Wizarding World without his godfather's preconceptions, whatever they might be, so that he can be guided down the right path, just as Dumbledore would have liked to guide Antecanis Black.

The Black wizard would only be in America for so many years; perhaps Dumbledore would still get a chance to help the young man avoid the wrong path.

There was a knock at the door, and Dumbledore knew right away that the school's Deputy Headmistress had come to see him. How he knew was not something he would share, even with her. Professor McGonagall would have to wait until this was her office before she could discover the secret, and then, like her predecessors, she would not share it.

"Come in, Minerva," he invited.

As the door opened, Professor McGonagall entered, her lips pressed tightly together in a frown. Dumbledore glanced up from the paper, adjusting his half-moon spectacles as she approached his desk. Not that he needed to see her face to detect that she was in an unpleasant mood this morning. The stern professor stood silently, waiting for his acknowledgement before speaking.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said warmly, setting aside the newspaper. "I take it you've seen Miss Skeeter's latest publication".

Professor McGonagall gave a short, sharp nod.

"Yes, Albus. I did. The woman is as insufferable as ever. That quote of mine she used was one I gave to another reporter on an unrelated matter several years ago," she explained.

This was no surprise as all of his staff, even the talkative Professor Sprout and friendly Professor Flitwick, knew to keep their mouths shut around Skeeter.

"Rita Skeeter is doing everything in her power to fan the flames. And, once again, she's succeeding," said the witch. "And at a cost to others".

Dumbledore sighed and sat back in his chair.

"She is talented at what she does, even if what she does is quite… detrimental for some people. However, it is not Miss Skeeter who concerns me, but the young Black heir. I fear her words may be pushing him further into isolation," warned the Headmaster.

McGonagall took a seat, her posture still rigid even as she sat.

"I've spoken to some of the staff, and there's a growing… unrest about young Mr Black," she shared. "They all know better than to give Skeeter's articles much attention; rather, they are more concerned about Mr Black's possible presence here at the school. They do not think the students would welcome him, and his presence here could be unsettling".

Dumbledore knew the Transfiguration teacher was choosing her words carefully, as she did not wish to insult anyone.

"I think young Mr Black has reached that conclusion as well," said the Headmaster. "He has already rejected our school, and I have no doubt he feels unwelcome in this country. And with Grimmauld Place housing so many… unpleasant reminders of his heritage, I worry what influence all of this may be having on such a young mind".

McGonagall looked concerned as well.

"Then perhaps it is for the best that Mr Black does not attend Hogwarts," she suggested. "Some of the students may react poorly to his presence, and I doubt Harry Potter would be pleased if we let the son of the man who betrayed his parents to You-Know-Who share a dorm room with him. Overseas, Mr Black can escape any expectations of his character".

Already, Dumbledore knew that he was going to need something stronger than tea by the end of the day.

"Perhaps you are right, Minerva," he conceded. "Nevermore Academy is hardly the kind of place a blood purist would wish to be educated within, which lessens my concerns somewhat, and maybe Mr Black would be better off away from Britain for a few years. Let everyone forget about him, and then once done with adventures abroad, he can join us again without so much attention from the public".

There was a brief silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

"Do you believe he will return to Britain once his education is complete?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore considered the question carefully.

"I would hope so. After all, this is his home," he said. "And in the years to come, we may need his aid. Besides, he'd hardly be the first young wizard to be educated in another land and then find his way back to us".

Since they both had quite a lot to do before the start of the new school year, this short meeting came to an end, and they soon went about their duties. They had a whole school to worry about and new students on the way, so they could only devote so much time to concerns about one young wizard.

Paint It Black

Part 9

Number 12 Grimmauld Place - London.

I slid a little piece of toasted bread between the bars of the cage and watched as the hungry rat devoured it. Of course, there wasn't a real rat inside; I'd never keep such a creature as a pet. Even if I had, Archimedes—my owl, named after the animated owl from one of my favourite childhood movies—would devour a real rat if I ever kept one, and if he didn't, my cat, which I had finally gotten around to naming Salem Saberhagen, despite his inability to talk, would have eaten the vermin.

Neither seemed to care that the occupant of the cage was actually a human, judging by the looks they were giving my prisoner. Perhaps they sensed the distaste I felt toward the transformed wizard whom I fed only to ensure he remained alive until I was done with him, and though I would offer him up.

The traitor and Death Eater known as Peter Pettigrew, AKA Wormtail, had been in my house for a couple of days, and I hadn't fed him before this. Despite the terror he must have been feeling—being trapped and likely knowing whose son I was—he still ravenously accepted the offered food. He knew it would not be poisoned because if I had wanted him dead, I'd have just killed him already.

My distaste for him wasn't merely because I disliked vermin or because he was the man who had framed my father. Frankly, I didn't care much about that, as I had never known Sirius Black. No, what disgusted me was that Pettigrew was a pitiful excuse for a wizard and possibly a pervert. He'd been a pet of children for over a decade, doing who knew what to them, and worse, he was a complete coward.

Kreacher had captured Wormtail for me with astonishing ease, popping over to The Burrow late one night with an unbreakable cage and whisking Pettigrew away before anyone even noticed he'd been there. Kreacher might not have cared for Sirius, but he had to follow orders, and capturing Pettigrew, who had framed a member of House Black, an unforgivable act in the eyes of the foul-mouthed servant, seemed to please the House Elf.

I didn't care about any of that. I didn't even care that Pettigrew was about to face the justice he had escaped all those years ago. My interest lay in using the vermin as a distraction. Originally, I had planned to slip quietly out of the country, but somehow, a leak had occurred. Rita Skeeter had gotten wind of my departure to Nevermore.

While my plans to study in the States were well within my rights—and MACUSA supported them as they didn't care who my father had been—I knew that the British Ministry of Magic would bend and break laws to get what they wanted. They would want to bleed me of my family fortune, and I had no doubt they would do everything possible to keep me from leaving if it would benefit them.

I wanted to throw a wrench in their plans, something to keep the entire Ministry busy until I was long gone, and then I could ignore them for a good long while. Peter Pettigrew would be my wrench. Once it became clear that Pettigrew was alive, Fudge and the other leaders would be too preoccupied to bother me. Fudge wouldn't want me around, not with the possibility that I would raise a fuss about my innocent father.

As for the general public, once the Aurors had questioned Pettigrew and discovered that he was the one who betrayed the Potters and murdered those Muggles, they would have no choice but to see me in a different light, not that it would change my plans. I might even be rewarded for turning in the rat, even if it was Kreacher who had done all the heavy lifting.

"Remember the cover story," I instructed the House Elf. "Pettigrew came after me here, and we captured him".

That way, I wouldn't have to explain how I knew Wormtail had been at the Weasley home. I'd been experimenting with some mental magic over the summer, recently using Pettigrew as a test subject. That kind of magic came naturally to me, allowing me to erase some of the traitor's memories. As such, he had no idea how he'd gotten here, and it was somewhat plausible that Pettigrew would come after me because he might fear that I knew the truth about my father.

"Yes, bastard Master," Kreacher replied. "Rat wizard tried to kill bastard Master, but Kreacher stopped him, and you put him in this cage".

I intended to hand Wormtail over to the DMLE. While it might result in him escaping to seek Voldemort's protection, I was sure the Dark Lord would return to power sooner or later. If it wasn't Pettigrew, it would be Barty Crouch Jr or one of the other Death Eaters who had bribed their way out of Azkaban, who would have some reason. It was all part of fate's plan, and I intended to stay out of the way of the drama.

With this in mind, I headed for the fireplace, tossing some floo powder into the flames and calling for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"DMLE office," someone answered.

I'd learned that you only needed to stick your head in the fireplace if you wanted your face to be seen; if you just wanted to be heard, getting close to the fire was sufficient.

"My name is Antecanis Black, and I need the help of an Auror. There's a dark wizard in my home," I reported.

Either my name rang a bell, or the mention of a dark wizard caused some alarm, as it wasn't long before a familiar voice spoke up.

"Antecanis, it's Tonks. Can I come through?" she asked.

Tonks must have been near the floo when I called.

"Come on in," I invited.

I stepped back, allowing the Auror to tumble out of the fireplace.

"As graceful as ever," I remarked, a smirk creeping onto my face.

She brushed herself off, choosing to ignore my comment.

"Where's this dark wizard?" she asked, scanning the room.

I pointed to the cage.

"There," I told her.

She looked at the rodent and then glanced at me with a worried expression on her face.

"Antecanis, that's just a rat in a cage," Tonks said as if I might be confused.

"Despite all his rage," I joked.

She didn't get the reference.

"Cast Homenum Revelio," I instructed.

The charm revealed the presence of other humans in the vicinity. As she performed the spell, both of us lit up along with the rat in the cage. I wasn't sure what the spell detected, as Wormtail was physically a rat. Perhaps it sensed a human mind or soul within him. Regardless, it worked.

"Did you transfigure someone into a rat?" Tonks asked, frowning slightly.

I had not; that was well beyond my level of skill.

"No, this person attacked me in my home, and when Kreacher blasted him with some House Elf magic, he turned into a rat before fleeing," I explained. "We were lucky to be able to capture him".

Tonks hesitated, uncertain of her next move. She finally pulled a device from a small pouch on her belt.

"It's a Secrecy Sensor," she explained. "It picks up on lies and attempts to hide; it should—"

She trailed off as the detector began to vibrate like a mobile phone.

"Yeah, I need to bring in someone more senior," she said, her tone shifting as she picked up the cage and brought it into the living room. "Whoever this is, they are trying to hide a lot of something from us".

A bit of an understatement, in my view.

"I'll be right back," she said, turning towards the fireplace. "Stay put".

She vanished in a swirl of green flames, leaving me alone with the caged rat and Kreacher standing silently nearby, eyes still narrowed in a mix of resentment and reluctant obedience. I could almost feel Pettigrew's fear emanating from the cage. Good. He should be afraid.

"You know what happens next, don't you?" I asked softly.

Peter Pettigrew didn't respond; he was incapable of doing so. He was locked in his Animagus form, not because of any spell I had placed upon him, but because the cage wouldn't break if he transformed. If he reverted to his human form, he'd die and make a terrible mess.

Tonks didn't take long to return, and this time she wasn't alone. She'd brought along Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. By opening up the floo connection on this side, I allowed entry into my home to anyone in the DMLE. This would be easy to prevent in the future, as I would just have Kreacher block up the fireplace when I left.

"Black, you'd better have a good explanation for this," Moody said, though his tone was more curious than accusatory.

He glanced at the cage, and while his magic eye wouldn't show him that the rat was Pettigrew since he was a rat in every physical way right now, the devices the Aurors were carrying were vibrating, and one was letting off puffs of smoke.

"Homenum Revelio," Kingsley cast.

The spell worked the same as before, lighting up the rat in the cage with a subtle glow.

"This is Peter Pettigrew," I stated flatly as if I were revealing the most obvious fact in the world. "He tried to attack me here in my own home".

The tall, black Auror raised an eyebrow.

"And you expect us to believe that?" he asked.

There were photos of a young Sirius Black and his friends in his bedroom, so that would explain how I knew what Pettigrew looked like.

"Believe what you want," I shrugged. "You can use Veritaserum or whatever else you need to prove it".

Kingsley's expression remained unreadable. He seemed to be weighing the situation. Then, as if making up his mind, he turned to the older Auror.

"Moody, verify it," he ordered curtly. "Tonks and I will cover you".

The Auror, who was supposed to be retired, muttered something under his breath before approaching the cage and drawing his wand. He cast a few detection charms, or at least I guessed that was what he was doing.

Mad-Eye Moody stunned the frantic rat, took it out of the cage, and then transformed Wormtail into his human form. He waved his wand, and several objects flew out of the criminal's pockets, including a couple of wands.

"And you say he attacked you?" asked Shacklebolt.

There was some scepticism there, a hint of something that told me he wasn't entirely convinced yet.

"That's right," I replied calmly. "And Kreacher helped subdue him".

I looked over at the house-elf, who nodded fervently in agreement, his ears flopping as he did.

"Yes, Kreacher captured the rat-wizard," the elf said. "Nasty rat-wizard who framed a member of the Noble House of Black".

Shacklebolt looked at Kreacher, then back at me, clearly weighing his options.

"That's quite a story, kid. But you do realise the implications of all this, don't you?" he asked, "If this Pettigrew, then the press is going to have a field day and the Ministry will be a mess for weeks ".

Of course, I did. That was the whole point of my staging this event.

"I suspect that your bosses will simply cover all of this up," I stated, making an effort to sound more emotional than I was. "Can't have people thinking the Ministry makes mistakes".

Kingsley took a deep breath and exchanged a look with Tonks—a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Kingsley nodded.

"We'll need to take him in," Kingsley said, his voice firm. "And you'll need to come in for questioning, Mr Black".

Before I could protest, as I didn't wish to go to the Ministry, Tonks, who had been standing silently throughout the exchange, stepped forward to speak.

"Given all the fuss in the papers, I think I should take his statement here," she suggested. "Less of a circus this way".

Kingsley nodded, seeing the wisdom of her idea.

"Fine. But keep an eye on him," he warned, "Until we can sort all of this out".

I'd be going to Nevermore in a few days regardless of what the DMLE wanted, and unless they arrested me for some reason, there wouldn't be anything they could do about that. As planned, I'd vanish, and by the time things were settled, I'd be long gone.

If the Ministry bothered me, then a certain paranoid Auror was going to be tipped off about Barty Crouch Junior, and if Dumbledore didn't leave me alone, then he would learn the location of a certain cursed ring. It was good to keep a few cards up my sleeve just in case I needed them. I even knew something about Rita Skeeter, that I might be able to exploit somewhere down the line.

Paint It Black

Part 10

Number 12 Grimmauld Place - London.

I stood in the drawing room of my family's home as the fireplace flared with green flames, announcing the arrival of an unwanted guest. I had been expecting another Auror to pop by to ask more questions, hence why the fireplace was open, so it was a bit of a surprise when a high-ranking Ministry official entered my house as if she had every right to be in my residence. She most certainly didn't, as I had only allowed access to limited members of DMLE in case they needed to question me about Pettigrew.

Dolores Umbridge stepped out of the fireplace, her sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face, her Innsmouth look was already making me feel a bit ill. Even worse, her pink cardigan clashed horribly with the room's dark tones. There was simply no accounting for taste.

"Ah, Mr Black," she simpered, her voice dripping with false cheer. "Such a charming home you have".

I decided to ignore that remark so we could get on with things. I didn't want her around any longer than she had to be.

"Madam Umbridge," I acknowledged tersely. "I wasn't expecting such an important visitor".

No sense in becoming hostile when I didn't yet know what this was about, nor was antagonising such a dangerous witch a wise move when you were in my position.

"Oh, but I thought I should pay you a little visit," she said, her smile never reaching her eyes. "There are certain… matters we need to discuss, Mr Black"

I didn't bother offering her a seat, nor did I sit myself. We both understood this wasn't a social call, and while her demeanour might have been pleasant, I knew that Dolores Umbridge didn't like being here at Grimmauld Place, and she liked me even less. Given that she'd never met me before, I couldn't have offended her personally; as such, I assumed this visit was connected to Peter Pettigrew, and this arrest was what had her so annoyed.

She looked around the room, her eyes scanning the shadows, no doubt wondering if there was anyone else about. No doubt my House Elf was nearby, but she wouldn't care about him.

"You've caused quite a stir at the Ministry," she continued, her tone casual. "This business about Peter Pettigrew… it's causing quite a lot of fuss for us".

Already, I was starting to get a feeling about what this meeting would be about.

"I handed over a dangerous criminal," I replied evenly. "The Ministry should be grateful".

In the Muggle world, I'd be celebrated for catching a murderer and ensuring he was in police custody.

"Oh, we are," she said, her smile widening to show her teeth.

Her eyes reminded me of a shark's in that they seemed soulless.

"The problem, Mr Black, is that the Ministry doesn't need this kind of attention", Umbridge clarified "The discovery that Peter Pettigrew is alive has proven to be rather troublesome".

I met her gaze without flinching.

"Troublesome for whom?" I inquired.

Given her presence here, I assumed the person being troubled was Minister Fudge, but since I was new to the Wizarding World, it wouldn't make sense for me to know that much about its inner workings, hence my questioning her for more details.

"For everyone, dear boy," she replied. "You see, the Ministry is in a delicate position. With Pettigrew in custody, questions about… past mistakes are being asked. Questions we would all prefer not to answer".

I said nothing, letting the silence stretch out until she felt the need to speak again.

"Such questions," she said, "could lead to unpleasant consequences for certain parties".

If Fudge had more than a few brain cells, he'd do the smart thing and blame it all on Barty Crouch Sr, who had been in charge of law enforcement at the time, rather than try to bury everything.

"I am here, Mr Black, to advise you," Umbridge continued. "It would be in your best interest, and the interest of your… family's legacy, to avoid causing any further commotion about this matter and let the Ministry handle things".

Basically, they didn't want me causing a fuss about the Ministry illegally throwing an innocent man into prison and leaving him to die.

"Commotion?" I repeated, feigning ignorance.

"You're a smart boy," she said, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

Her tone suggested she didn't believe I was smart, which suited me just fine, as it meant she was less likely to see me as a threat that way.

"You know very well what I mean. If the Ministry were forced to re-examine the circumstances of your father's imprisonment at length, it could cause a great deal of upheaval. And the Ministry could do without such problems," she stated.

I might have been insulted by all of this if I cared about what had happened to Sirius Black. I'd captured Pettigrew to create chaos at the Ministry and, by the looks of things, I had succeeded—not because I cared about justice.

"And what do you suggest I do, Madam Undersecretary?" I asked, careful to keep my tone just respectful enough.

I wasn't yet in a position to tangle with the Ministry, so it wouldn't be wise to refuse to cooperate. I was mere hours away from leaving Britain.

"Why, nothing, of course," she replied, maintaining her smile. "Simply continue as you have, behave as a good and respectable young man should, and allow the Ministry to handle these matters. After all, we know what's best".

A thinly veiled threat. Keep quiet, or else.

"If you persist in bringing up… unnecessary grievances," she said, saying what I'd guessed she would say, "The Ministry will have no choice but to reconsider its position on you and your inheritance. I would hate to see your future jeopardised when there is nothing the Ministry can do about your late father's imprisonment".

A not-so-subtle reminder that they had power over me. If I fought them, they could make my life miserable and take my wealth away from me, or at least, Umbridge wanted me to think the Ministry could. The goblin I'd spoken to seemed quite sure that the Ministry couldn't get its hands on my fortune, but I recalled what happened to Hagrid—he got carted off to Azkaban with no trial just because the Ministry needed to be seen as doing something. So I was sure they would lock me up if I caused them more problems.

"I assure you, Mr Black, no one wants that. The Ministry values its young citizens and wants them to prosper. But prosperity requires… cooperation," she warned.

Cooperation, which meant silence and submission. As much as I hated the idea, there was nothing I could do about it. Maybe one day things would be different, and at least I knew now for sure that the Ministry was my enemy.

"What about Pettigrew?" I asked. "The fact that he's alive proves Sirius Black was innocent. People will draw their own conclusions".

Umbridge smiled again.

"Pettigrew has already been sentenced and subjected to the Dementor's Kiss," she informed me. "Your father has been avenged, and there is no need for people to worry further on this matter".

I didn't mind that they had killed Wormtail, as he had destroyed many lives due to his cowardice.

"So," she said, her voice now saccharine sweet once more, "What do you say, Mr Black? Will you be a cooperative young man?"

I didn't have a choice in the matter. Umbridge had been quite happy to send Dementors after Harry Potter when he caused problems for the Ministry, and I didn't doubt she would do the same to me. She needed to be dealt with, but I didn't know if she had told anyone she was coming here, and Tonks could come through the fireplace at any moment, so I would have to play along for now and remove Umbridge as a threat later rather than kill her, even if it was something I badly wanted to do.

"Madam Undersecretary," I began, my voice polite, almost deferential. "I have no intention of causing trouble for the Ministry. I am content that justice was served and that people will now know my father was innocent. I can't bring him back, no one can, so there's no sense going on about it".

Rita Skeeter had no doubt written another article by now. They wouldn't be able to stop her, not with something this big.

"Of course," she said, her voice laced with sickly sweetness. "I'm glad we had this little chat".

She turned, preparing to leave, but before she stepped into the fireplace, she paused, her back to me.

"Be careful, Mr Black," she said softly, a final warning. "The Ministry does not look kindly upon those who cause problems".

And with that, she was gone, the green flames swallowing her up.

"Bitch," I said to myself.

Dolores Umbridge thought she could intimidate me into submission, but she had underestimated how little I cared for the Ministry's opinion or the legacy of the House of Black. I couldn't do anything now, but one day I would be a powerful wizard, and I would not allow myself to be pushed around.

"Is the pink toad witch gone, bastard Master?" Kreacher's voice rasped from the hallway.

I nodded even though he couldn't see me.

"Yes, the pink toad is gone," I said.

Kreacher entered the room with a fancy tea set floating after him. Like all true British people, I found the drinking of tea to be a good distraction from my problems, if only for a short time. I decided to sit down and read the paper before I made my final arrangements for leaving the country.

The Truth About Sirius Black – An Innocent Man Framed!

By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

In a shocking turn of events, this reporter has uncovered a scandal that threatens to shake the very foundations of our magical society. It has now come to light that Sirius Black may have been innocent all along! Yes, you read that correctly, dear readers. The infamous mass murderer whom the Ministry labelled as the right-hand man of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named appears to be the victim of a miscarriage of justice.

The breaking development centres around the recent capture of Peter Pettigrew, who was thought to have been murdered by Black over a decade ago. The revelation came when young Antecanis Black, the son of Sirius Black, exposed Pettigrew by turning the treacherous rat over to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

BETRAYAL AND DECEPTION

Let us revisit the events of that fateful day in 1981, when it was widely believed that Sirius Black, in a fit of madness, had murdered Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggle bystanders. The evidence against Black appeared overwhelming—Muggle witnesses reportedly saw him standing in the aftermath of an explosion, laughing maniacally, and when Ministry officials arrived, Sirius Black did not resist arrest and seemed to confirm his guilt by admitting that he'd done it.

All that was found of Peter Pettigrew was a single finger. In hindsight, it seems odd that Pettigrew's entire body could have been destroyed, leaving only one finger. None of the DMLE investigators at the time questioned this, as it seemed like such an open-and-shut case.

Now, in light of Pettigrew's reappearance and subsequent confession, it has been revealed that it was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed the Potter family. Yes, it was Pettigrew, not Black, who passed information to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, directly resulting in the Potter family's tragic demise. His betrayal led to the orphaning of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Pettigrew's actions, according to reliable Ministry insiders, were driven by cowardice and a desire for self-preservation. This led him to let the blame fall squarely on the shoulders of his childhood friend, Sirius Black.

One must wonder: How did such a grievous mistake happen? Why was Sirius Black, once a respectable wizard and member of the prestigious House of Black, denied the opportunity to defend himself in court? Why was no proper investigation conducted into the events that transpired on that fateful day?

An inside source at the DMLE (who requested to remain anonymous) expressed concern over the Ministry's handling of the entire affair. "It seems as though everyone was eager for someone to blame," the source confessed. "And everyone expects a Black to go dark sooner or later".

As a result, Sirius Black was condemned to Azkaban without a fair trial, where he languished for over a decade, wrongly branded as one of the worst criminals of our time. But what if the Ministry wasn't so much careless as they were willfully negligent? It's an uncomfortable question, but one we must ask how the Ministry will ensure such a travesty of justice never occurs again.

HEROISM IN THE FACE OF ADVERSITY

One cannot overlook the courage of Antecanis Black, the young heir to the Black family, who faced Pettigrew when, for unknown reasons, the dark wizard attempted to kill the son of the friend he had betrayed, perhaps fearing that Antecanis would uncover the truth. His efforts in capturing Pettigrew have not gone unnoticed by the DMLE, with several prominent officials lauding his bravery.

However, sources close to the case hint that young Black's actions have ruffled feathers at the Ministry, which had invested a great deal in maintaining the status quo. Despite the Ministry's attempts to keep Pettigrew's capture under wraps, whispers are spreading like Fiendfyre.

This reporter can not help wondering if Antecanis Black will receive any sort of award for the capture of the true villain of this story, or any sort of compensation, since it is the Ministry's fault that he grew up without a father.

Given Umbridge's visit, I highly doubted it. They were planning to wait for this storm to pass them by and do nothing about the harm caused.

A MINISTRY IN DISARRAY?

Now, dear readers, let us consider the bigger picture. What does this scandal mean for the Ministry of Magic and its reputation? Cornelius Fudge, our esteemed Minister, has been caught off guard by this revelation. The DMLE is reportedly scrambling to contain the fallout, as more questions are being raised about the reliability of the Ministry's decisions and its readiness to dole out life sentences without solid evidence.

Several members of the Wizengamot are calling for an urgent re-examination of the entire case against Sirius Black. Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, is said to be quietly furious at the revelation and has initiated a formal inquiry into Pettigrew's capture and confession. But will it be enough to restore public confidence in the Ministry's ability to uphold justice?

I guessed the Skeeter didn't know that Pettigrew had already been punished in the most horrible of ways.

WHAT'S NEXT?

While Pettigrew remains in Ministry custody, sources suggest that his fate may soon be decided. However, the real question on everyone's lips is: What will happen to Sirius Black? Will the Ministry admit its mistake and offer Black a full pardon post-mortem, or will they continue to defend their past errors?

This scandal highlights the importance of holding our leaders accountable and our responsibility to ensure that justice is not sacrificed for convenience. Sirius Black's innocence, buried under layers of lies and neglect, must be acknowledged, and those responsible must face the consequences of their actions.

Stay tuned for further updates as this story unfolds.

No wonder Umbridge didn't want me causing a fuss; the Ministry was going to have a heck of a time dealing with public outcry without me getting involved. Yet I felt sure they would manage it and soon go back to business as usual.

"I'm so glad I am leaving this country," I muttered to myself.

If I ever came back to stay, I wouldn't do so to become a model citizen; that was for sure.

Paint It Black.

Part 11.

Dumbledore's Office - Hogwarts School.

Harry Potter found himself standing in front of Professor Dumbledore's desk. He had not expected to be summoned to meet with the man he had heard much about but knew not at all. He simply wasn't used to coming to the attention of important people, and when anyone in authority did pay attention to him, it had never ended well.

Spending sixteen years with the Dursleys had taught Harry never to trust an adult. So the idea that the Headmaster wanted to help Harry, even in some minor way by explaining recent events, never crossed Harry's mind, as such, he had no idea why he was here, and he assumed that he had somehow gotten into trouble despite having only just arrived at the castle to start his magical education.

The only reason Harry even knew there was something to discuss, other than potentially some unknown rule-breaking, was because one of his fellow students had passed him a copy of today's paper. From that article and some discussion with his classmates, Harry learned he had a godfather, who had not been around when he was growing up, to take him away from the Dursleys because he had been in prison until he died. To make matters worse, Sirius Black had been innocent the entire time and could have looked after Harry.

At least he didn't have to go back to his hated relatives, as from what little he understood, there had been some sort of magical protection on Number Four Privet Drive that had faded away when he turned 17. Harry wondered what sort of magical protections there had been because they certainly hadn't helped to protect him from bullies and his relatives.

Other arrangements would have to be made for where he would stay over the summer. No one had bothered to include Harry in deciding this, and that was just typical of his life; he doubted he would even know where he was going until the last moment.

"I take it you've heard the news, Harry," Dumbledore began by saying.

His confusion and concern were plain to see on Harry's face, even if he was used to hiding how he felt. He got the impression that Dumbledore would have known what he was feeling, no matter how straight Harry kept his face.

"Is it true, Sir? About Sirius Black… and Peter Pettigrew?" Harry wished to know.

Headmaster Dumbledore sighed deeply, his fingers steepling as he rested his hands on the large desk.

"Yes, Harry. It is all true. I spoke with Peter Pettigrew myself," he answered. "Sirius was framed, and Peter Pettigrew was the one who betrayed your parents to Lord Voldemort".

Harry was used to people not telling him things, or outright lying to him—in the case of his Aunt and Uncle, who had told him his parents were drunks who died in a car crash. He had thought the Wizarding World would be different, and while he was enjoying learning about magic, so far, he didn't think much of those who practised it.

That Ron Weasley boy seemed convinced that they were already best friends, even though his family had been harbouring Peter Pettigrew, and Harry wasn't convinced they had simply not noticed that the same rat had been around for more than fifteen years. There was something fishy going on with that boy, or maybe Ron was just that stupid.

"How come no one told me about this?" he wanted to know. "Shouldn't I have grown up with my godfather's son?"

Harry wasn't sure how such things worked, but he felt fairly certain that Antecanis Black should have been like a cousin to him. However, given Dudley, perhaps Harry had been fortunate not to have more than one cousin around when he was younger.

"We did not know of Antecanis Black until quite recently, not until he was invited to Hogwarts," explained Dumbledore. "During the war, there were many secrets, and the Black family was not known for being… forthcoming. Antecanis' existence was hidden from us even after Sirius was imprisoned".

Harry picked up on the most important part of what had just been said.

"Antecanis isn't here at Hogwarts," he pointed out.

Given the newspaper article, if his godfather's son were here, he was sure that someone would have pointed him out during the welcoming feast last night. There would be gossip about him, just as there were lots of people talking about Harry.

"Mr Black has chosen to study abroad rather than attend Hogwarts," the Headmaster shared.

Harry hadn't known that was an option, and he couldn't help wondering if it was too late to transfer to somewhere he wasn't so well known, as he did not like the attention he was getting. That was something to think about later; for now, he wanted to know more about who his godfather's son was. He might be the closest thing to the family that Harry had left.

"What kind of person is Antecanis?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore paused, his eyes searching Harry's face, perhaps deciding how much to reveal.

"Antecanis Black is not like his father, who was the white sheep of the Black Family, you might say. Antecanis is not like the rest of the family, either, I'm pleased to say. The Black family are not a nice group of people—or rather, they weren't, as Antecanis is the only remaining Black" Dumbledore told Harry "From what little I know, he is a young man shaped by isolation and a mistrust of authority. His actions in exposing Pettigrew weren't due to him seeking justice, but rather because, for some unknown reason, Pettigrew decided to attack Antecanis in his home".

Harry couldn't help finding that odd.

"So he doesn't care that his father was innocent?" he wondered.

Dumbledore looked at Harry with a sad smile.

"I believe that, in his way, he does care. But Antecanis did not know Sirius; he grew up in an orphanage," the Headmaster continued, "And since we can't find his mother, she has likely passed on as well".

Harry found himself empathising with this other wizard.

"Does he know about me?" was the boy's next question.

Harry's voice was quiet and uncertain as he spoke.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. "I am sure that Antecanis knows who you are and what your parents meant to his father, as it is rather common knowledge. I know that the daughter of Sirius's cousin, Andromeda Tonks, has been in contact with Antecanis. But I cannot say how he feels about any of them. He is—how shall I put this?—a remarkably private person".

Of course he is, thought Harry. It made sense; after all, someone who grew up in isolation wouldn't be used to trusting others easily. He felt that way himself, and Harry couldn't help wondering what Antecanis would think of him. Would he even want to meet?

"Wait, Pettigrew attacked him?" Harry asked, a touch of anger in his voice as that bit of news registered, "Is Antecanis alright? The paper didn't say if he was hurt or not."

To Harry, it didn't make sense that the crook would stick his neck out after all these years, and he found that he was concerned about Antecanis despite never having even heard of the other wizard until this morning.

"One of the Aurors investigating this case assures me that Mr Black is fine", assured Dumbledore.

Harry had learned not to ask questions while growing up, but for once, he broke that habit.

"Headmaster, why would Peter Pettigrew attack Antecanis. I thought Pettigrew was supposed to be hiding," Harry said.

Dumbledore paused as if he were considering what to say.

"I believe Pettigrew was desperate. He had been in hiding for many years, under the protection of your classmates' family without their knowledge," stated the Headmaster. "For reasons I am still trying to uncover, Pettigrew chose to confront Antecanis. Perhaps he feared that Antecanis would uncover the truth about his father or already knew something".

Harry felt a knot of frustration tightening in his chest. Pettigrew, who had already taken so much from him, had even ruined the life of someone else connected to him. And all because Pettigrew had been a coward.

"Professor, why wasn't I told about this before?" Harry demanded, trying to keep his voice steady. "Why didn't anyone think to tell me?"

He was getting rather sick of people keeping things from him, and while Harry had no desire to rock the boat, he should have some answers.

"Harry," Dumbledore replied softly, "there are some things, regrettably, that have been kept from you in an attempt to protect you as you grew up. But now that you are of age and the protection that once surrounded you has faded, it is time you are allowed to learn more and take part in decisions about your own life".

For some reason, Harry didn't think the Headmaster was telling him the whole truth. He'd been told that Dumbledore was a great and powerful wizard, and yet how wise could he be if he hadn't known Sirius was innocent and that Pettigrew had been hiding out at this very school at times? Something Harry knew because Ron Weasley had told him he was planning to bring the rat to his school, as his brother Percy had done.

"So what happens now?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, if anything at all.

"That, Harry, is up to you," Dumbledore said. "I would suggest writing to Mr Black. Perhaps you can help him to become a proper part of our community".

While Harry would do just that, he couldn't help thinking that there was more to the Headmaster's suggestion than him simply offering some advice. Yet he had no idea what that could be.

Tonks Residence - Southern England.

Given how busy their lives could be, it wasn't often that the three members of the family had a chance to sit around the kitchen table and enjoy breakfast at such a sedate pace. Normally, a meal shared by the family would be a good time to share news and catch up with each other, but for a change, it wasn't the events going on in the lives of any member of the family that had become the subject of talk; rather, they were all concerned with the life of Antecanis Black.

Andromeda Tonks had long ago separated herself from the family she was born into so that she could embrace the life she had chosen for herself. This hadn't been done just because she didn't like her original family or because she'd wanted some sort of clean slate when starting a new phase of her life; she'd had to break off contact for her safety, as well as for her husband's and daughter's well-being.

Andromeda knew that getting blasted off the family tapestry would have been just the start of it if certain members of her family had gotten their hands on her. Since there had needed to be a clean break, Andromeda had also cut off contact with Sirius, the only one of her cousins she had liked. This had been for his protection; if her sister, Bellatrix, even suspected that Sirius knew how to get to Andromeda, she would have forced the information out of him.

Andromeda tried not to think about that and turned to her husband, Ted Tonks, who was going over the article Rita Skeeter had recently written, and he seemed amused by it rather than worried.

"How quickly people forget," commented Ted. "It wasn't that long ago, Skeeter was painting this lad as a future dark wizard, and now he's coming off as the hero. Do people never remember the articles Skeeter wrote before?"

Andromeda had noticed that herself, and this wasn't the first time her husband had made that observation. More than once, she'd wondered if the Daily Prophet was subtly enchanted to make people believe whatever rubbish it printed, even if it contradicted what had been written before. However, all the tests she'd run had come up negative when it came to magic that manipulated the mind, and so she'd concluded that most people were just idiots.

"So, how is Antecanis handling all of this, Nymphadora?" Andromeda asked her daughter.

The youngest Tonks at the table scowled upon hearing her given name, but she knew not to bother telling her mother to call her something else. It would be a fruitless effort.

"I haven't seen him for a couple of days," said the trainee Auror. "He seemed fine then".

Ted looked up from the paper, concern shadowing his usually cheerful face.

"He's not hiding away, is he? All this attention… even if it's mostly positive now, it can be overwhelming," Ted wondered

Nymphadora shrugged before speaking.

"He's not hiding; it's more like he just doesn't care what people think of him. He's mostly been packing up his stuff for when he goes to America for school," she shared.

"What about Dumbledore? Does he know what Antecanis is up to?" asked Andromeda.

Unlike many others, Andromeda Tonks had never been a big supporter of the Headmaster. She'd been a Slytherin and a Black long enough to know that no one who reached the heights he had did so without stepping over a few people. Nor was anyone who held so many positions able to do a good job with all of them. That Lucius Malfoy had been able to keep Fudge in office for so long was proof that the Ministry of Magic was in the hands of the most vile of blood purists, and Dumbledore seemed powerless to stop them.

"Probably," Nymphadora admitted. "Him leaving for the States was in the paper".

That wasn't what Andromeda had meant, and she was sure that Antecanis had more going on than people suspected. Peter Pettigrew was too much of a coward to have gone after Antecanis, and she knew enough about Grimmauld Place to know that Pettigrew couldn't have broken in. The new Black had to have tracked down and captured the rat; of that, she was sure. She just didn't know why or even how.

"And Antecanis is still leaving the country?" Andromeda wondered.

Since the news of the only remaining son of the Black family going to school abroad had been in the paper, that meant pretty much everyone in the magical world knew about it—unless they had already forgotten. But plans can change.

"I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on him," said the trainee Auror. "But if he leaves the country, there isn't much I can do about it".

The older of the two women sipped her coffee before speaking again.

"Do you think he should stay?" Andromeda asked, her voice almost hesitant.

Nymphadora considered the question for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of toast.

"I don't know, Mum. If he decides he still needs a fresh start away from all this madness, I can't say I blame him," she replied, "Even if you have to be mad not to want to go to Hogwarts"

Ted set the paper aside and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table.

"If Antecanis leaves, he'll be on his own again," he said, his tone more serious than usual. "Andromeda, do you think he has anyone to turn to if things get rough?"

Andromeda's face tightened slightly, a mixture of regret and guilt. She felt bad for separating herself from Sirius so completely because while it had been necessary, it had also left Sirius with no support from his family. Andromeda had worried a lot less once Sirius had moved in with James Potter's parents, but despite this, she felt that she should have kept a closer eye on Sirius and been there for his son when he ended up alone.

"I doubt it," she replied softly. "The boy grew up isolated and ignorant of our world, and the Black family name isn't going to make it easy for him to find people who'll trust him".

Ted nodded, his expression pensive.

"You know, I always wished there was something we could have done for Sirius back then," he said. "Maybe this time we can help".

Andromeda didn't reply immediately. She was caught in the memories of the past—of a fiery, rebellious cousin who had defied his family like she had and of the price he had paid for it. Sirius had risked his life to do what he saw as right, and it had cost him everything.

"We could invite him over around Christmas when he gets back from school," Ted offered. "No need to rush anything or pressure the lad. Just a simple invitation".

That did seem like a good place to start, and it would give her the chance to explain to Sirius's son why she hadn't been around to take care of him. She was sure that once he understood that she had simply been aware that Sirius even had a child, he would open up to her if given the chance.

She was very eager to learn more about Antecanis, such as who his mother was, and her daughter had let it slip that he was a Metamorphmagus. She wanted to see this young man for herself, and if he wanted to learn how to better use this magical talent, then Nymphadora would be the perfect person to teach him. It would let them bond as they should have done when they were children.

"Maybe just let him know that… well, he has a place to turn if he ever needs it," advised her husband.

Ted had a talent for telling his wife what she needed to hear.

"He might appreciate knowing he's got people watching his back, even if he won't say it," said Nymphadora.

Andromeda sighed, knowing her daughter was right. Antecanis might be as stubborn as any other Black, and from what little she had gleaned, he was fiercely independent and uncaring about the expectations of others. Offering him a lifeline wouldn't be simple. It would have to be done subtly, without making him feel like a charity case or a project, as he would only resent that if her guesses about him were right.

"I'll write him a letter," Andromeda decided. "Nothing demanding. You could make sure he gets it, Nymphadora".

Ted reached over and squeezed her hand, offering a reassuring smile.

"You're doing the right thing, Andromeda," he said. "He might never say it, but I'm sure it'll matter to him".

Andromeda could only hope that his words turned out to be true.

Paint It Black

Part 12

Nevermore Academy. Jericho.

The massive front gates of the school opened for me despite the lack of any visible mechanism or people to operate them, so I could only conclude that there was some sort of spell on the gates and that I fit whatever parameters were needed to make them open. Even over the noise of the engine, I heard the massive gates shut, as they were badly in need of oil on their hinges.

Before coming here, I had decided to leave my cat in Grimmauld Place. Salem preferred to be alone, and Kreacher could take care of the animal's basic needs until the term ended and I returned to England for the holidays. I had set my owl, Archimedes, loose upon arriving in America, knowing he would catch up when ready, as post owls could always find their owners. As for Phosphor, he could just teleport here any time he wanted to.

As I reached the main entrance of the school, I began to slow down my enchanted motorbike, which I felt sure I had selected when setting up the CYOA all those years ago, even if the details were rather fuzzy. Spending seventeen years on some sort of autopilot meant that my memories of filling out the CYOA were very old, and most of it was lost to time.

I had figured out that the bike, which had once belonged to Sirius Black, must have some sort of magic on it that made people accept me driving it because you'd think MACUSA, a government that heavily regulates even wands, wouldn't let me drive around on an enchanted motorcycle—even if it was enchanted to make Muggles ignore it. Yet they had just stamped a few forms before letting me drive away on it.

Slowly, I came to a stop outside the old building and looked around. Many students were hanging about, perhaps waiting for friends to arrive or for their parents to leave. As I stepped off my bike and took off my helmet, I noticed more than one young woman giving me a visual examination. If this had been a TV show, I imagined their view of me would be in slow motion with the song Bad To The Bone, playing in the background.

For sure, I had the undivided attention of the principal and a small blonde-haired girl who turned out to be Enid Sinclair. I already felt the desire to pat her on the head and call her a good girl, as she was simply that adorable. If anything, the TV show didn't do her justice.

"Principal Weems, do you have anywhere I can lock up my bike?" I asked the educator.

MACUSA might be much more relaxed at the century's end than it had been in its earlier decades, but the people I'd spoken to in New York were clear about keeping the machine locked up when not in use.

"Yes, Mr Black, we have a garage for the cars of the older students who can drive," the principal said. "I was informed by MACUSA that you would be arriving today, but I wasn't expecting you until this evening".

That was because it should have taken me over five hours to get here, and it would have if this bike didn't have some enchantments on it similar to those of the Knight Bus. I had no idea how that worked, only that streets seemed to bend and twist, and then suddenly I would find road signs letting me know I had covered long distances. The bike was happy to drive itself as long as I knew where I wanted to go.

"I made good time," was all I said on the matter.

Already, it looked as if Enid Sinclair was going to start vibrating with excitement if she didn't get a chance to let off some of that energy by bombarding me with questions or at least having her presence acknowledged. This was something the head of the school picked up on.

"Antecanis Black, this is Enid Sinclair, one of Nevermore's veterans, you might say," she introduced.

I took off my dragon-hide gloves, stashing them in the bike's compartment, before taking Enid's hand and kissing the air just above her knuckles. For some reason, that just seemed like the right thing to do. It might be because I'm a British person in America, and they expect us to be charming. Any American who has such ideas has never been to take away after the nightclubs close.

"Delighted to meet you, Miss Sinclair. Please call me James; Antecanis is a bit of a mouthful to keep saying." I invited.

"Hey, James! I'll be showing you around," said Enid once she was done beaming a big smile at me. "You can call me Enid".

Miss Weems seemed happy to leave me in Enid's capable hands as I put my bike away in the back of the garage.

"Will you take me for a ride?" requested the adorable werewolf.

I saw no reason why not. There was something infectious about her enthusiasm, and she seemed pleasant enough to hang around with. I did wonder why I wasn't a little star-struck since I was hanging around a fictional character from a TV series I had rather enjoyed. Not for the first time, I figured that it must be one of my perks that allowed me to stay calm about all this, or the fact that I am sort of a sociopath, although I wasn't as sedate about it as I might appear on the surface.

"It does have a sidecar," I mentioned. "Or you can ride while holding onto me, but you'll need to bring a helmet. I don't have a spare".

Enid seemed rather thrilled with the idea of getting to ride with me and kept smiling as she gave me a tour of the school. While September had only just started, the campus was already covered in leaves, and people had begun dressing for the cold. I seemed rather out of place in my protective clothing, not that I felt awkward, since I thought my protective clothing made me look very cool.

"What kind of leather is that?" Enid questioned.

She ran her hand down the arm of my jacket while speaking.

"It's dragon hide," I told her. "My family had this stashed in its vault".

Enid made an excited noise.

"So it's true, what I heard?" she asked.

Quite possibly.

"It depends on what you heard," I said.

Rumours travelled faster than even enchanted motorcycles, so I wasn't surprised to hear that the student body had heard of me.

"That you're a wizard from England," Enid continued, "Very rich and from an old family".

Well, I could prove part of that. I took out my wand and lit the tip of it without needing to say Lumos; non-verbal spellcasting was something I could manage for some simple spells.

"I'm just starting to learn," I told the cute werewolf, "but I've already learned to cast a few spells. And yes, the Black family is very old as well as very wealthy, and I am the last Black standing, so all the family's fortune is mine".

While there was no way it could have fit, I was able to take an entire trunk out of the bike's rear compartment, much to Enid's amazement.

"How about you show me to my room so I can put this away, and then you can give me the tour?" I suggested.

I'd negotiated with the principal for a private room rather than a shared one, pointing out that since I would be doing research into magic, I didn't need the distraction of a roommate or to risk harming them should a spell go wrong. No sense in risking turning my roommate into a Newt.

As we walked, Enid let me know that Nevermore contains four halls of dormitories: two for boys and two for girls. Each hall has a dorm mom or a dorm dad in charge of watching over all students. She also told me that the dorm rules must be strictly followed, no loud music, and it's forbidden to have boys or girls in each other's halls.

Enid took me to my room, which was rather spartan in terms of decoration until I opened the trunk and waved my wand around. The magic made it look as if invisible hands were rapidly flying about, emptying the trunk and putting things in place; even my clothes went into the wardrobe, and some of my books filled the shelves.

"Oh wow, that looks like a huge time saver," commented Enid.

Her wide eyes made it clear that she was a lot more impressed than her words suggested.

"I made it look easy, but it took me hours of practice to get right when I was packing to come here," I mentioned. "And it works in reverse too, so if you ever need help packing and unpacking, just let me know".

No harm in acting friendly since I was going to be at the school for years if things worked out.

"Classes don't start until tomorrow," Enid let me know as we began the tour, "So we have plenty of time to look around".

Miss Weems had shown me a few places during our meeting during the summer, but there was still a lot for me to see, and I was quickly led to the quad, a large outdoor area surrounded by walls and walkways. In its centre was a fountain with a large dead-looking tree. At its edge stood a statue of Edgar Allan Poe.

The cute werewolf told me what was important for a new student to know, which turned out to be information on the school's different ethnic groups. The main ones were the Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales.

"So most of the students here are werewolves, vampires, sirens, and gorgons, but we've also got shapeshifters, psychics, and those who have no faces," Enid shared with me.

She meant 'no face' quite literally, as there were students here who had no faces. I wasn't normally someone who judged others by appearance, but those kids freaked me out, and I decided to avoid them. Too many thoughts of Slender Man.

"Then we have some smaller groups," Enid continued. "We have a few young hags—those are the people wearing veils, don't sit with them for lunch as they eat raw liver, and we even have a few Veela this year. Then there are the people who are mixed race; they sort of mingle. You're the only Pureblood wizard here as far as I know".

I noticed that we walked by the Gorgons very quickly.

"Is everything alright?" I asked.

While I didn't exactly empathise with people, I was quite capable of picking up on when people were distressed, and I was curious as to why Enid, who seemed so sociable, was avoiding an entire table of people.

"I used to date one of the Gorgons," Enid told me. "We broke up over the summer because my mom didn't approve. It was all very dramatic—tears and a lot of shouting. I think Ajax was upset too".

Sounded like Enid had to put up with a lot of family drama. Something I was glad I got to avoid. The closest thing I had to family was the Tonks lot, who wanted me to visit during the Christmas holidays. I wasn't sure if I would bother or not, as I couldn't see any advantage to socialising with them other than learning more about British Magical culture.

"We had a normie teacher, Miss Thornhill, but she turned out to be evil," Enid let me know. "There was a whole thing with people trying to murder my roommate, and I nearly got killed in the woods. I had to wolf out and fight a Hyde, it was totally traumatising"

I vaguely recalled something about that in the Wednesday show, and given that the school was open again, it seemed safe to assume that in this universe, not so many people had died, or it had been very well covered up. It wouldn't be the first time a magical school should have been shut down due to the danger faced by the students, and it wasn't.

"Right over there is the cafeteria," Enid said. "It's open between 6 AM and closes at 4 PM, so if you get the munchies in the evening, you should stash snacks in your room or just go into town".

Given that a good chunk of the school's population was made up of vampires, who, judging by the hats and sunglasses, didn't tolerate the sunlight very well, it seemed odd that the cafeteria would close so early. Then again, they might not eat food at all, or maybe they liked to eat early because they were so old.

"I'll keep that in mind," I replied.

We soon moved on as there was more for me to see.

"This is the library," Enid said, her volume lowering in the way that people's voices do when they enter a library.

The room was larger than the library at Grimmauld Place and far less dusty. I'd not been able to get a proper look at it over the summer, and I was impressed by what I saw.

"Wow," I said while stepping further inside. "This place is incredible".

I was looking forward to spending a lot of time in this place.

"You'll find a ton of rare books here, especially on magical creatures and species. It's a perfect place for research—or so I'm told. I'm more of a trashy romance and magazine girl myself," she admitted.

I imagined the knowledge hidden among those pages, waiting for me to unlock it. But it could wait, as I could tell Enid was eager to get on with the tour, and I was going to be at this school for some time.

After leaving the library, we wandered through various classrooms. Some were set up to teach mundane subjects, while others appeared to be set up to educate the students on more magical matters.

As we strolled down one particularly long corridor, Enid paused and turned to me.

"So, what are you most excited about studying here?" she asked.

The Dark Arts were alluring, but I decided not to mention that, and it was hardly the biggest field of interest I had in mind. Duelling was something I wanted to look into, and the magic of the mind also appealed to me.

"Whatever seems useful or interesting," I answered.

I could tell that the werewolf wanted more than that from me.

"But mostly I'm here to learn more about the world and the different races. Principal Weems was eager for me to try out the clubs," I mentioned.

Miss Weems had decided to let me choose what part of the school I would donate money to, be it an educational subject in need of funds or one of the school's clubs that might need new equipment.

"Let's get you back to your room so you can settle in before dinner," Enid said, her expression brightening again. "And then we can meet up later, right? I want to introduce you to more people".

That seemed fine with me.

"Absolutely," I replied.

Making friends was not my primary goal, or even a secondary one, but my life here would be easier if I at least went through the motions and didn't alienate myself. I was going to be here for years, so there was no sense in making myself seem like an outsider.

Paint It Black

Part 13.

Nevermore Academy - Jericho.

Enid had left me in my room for a few hours, to go do some girl stuff I assumed, which led me to wander off and explore the library until the cheery werewolf tracked me down, because earlier she had decided that we were having dinner together and I had agreed since I had decided to be sociable enough to make time here go more smoothly and because it was hard to say no to Enid Sinclair.

Even though I was supposed to be a sociopath, I found myself rather pleased to see her when she wandered into the library. Maybe it was because I was a wolf Animagus and wanted to be part of a pack, even if I wasn't supposed to care about such things. I figured that I'd just have to put up with having a complex character and confused feelings at times.

Joining people for dinner at 3 pm was a strange experience for me—perhaps because I'm naturally a night person—but Enid had her own theory about why the cafeteria had to be open at such odd hours, and her reasoning made sense to me as I'd also come to that conclusion.

"I think it's because the vampires are all old people," she said as we found a table to sit at. "I mean, think about it, old people get up super early and go to bed early, so they have to eat dinner in the middle of the afternoon".

As it turned out, vampires can eat regular food in addition to drinking blood, which Enid assured me was animal blood, not human and being a werewolf, perhaps she could smell the difference. I could see them eating regular food as well as drinking blood from cups, like it was an everyday thing. The blood-drinking made me feel a bit weird.

"Makes sense," I said. "Most of them are likely old enough to be our great-grandparents".

Vampires' lifespans are very long in this world. I'd read enough to know that some of the vampire students there would be over a hundred years old and could potentially live well over a thousand years. Some of them had been at the school for decades. I couldn't imagine spending decades as a teenager; that seemed like a nightmare.

"You don't like vampires much, do you, James?" Enid questioned.

I wasn't sure what to say as I picked at my food.

"No, I don't," I admitted. "I think it's because I like to think I'm at the top of the food chain—the apex predator. It's unsettling to find out there are things out there that could eat you. But I'm sure I'll get used to it once I get to know some of the vampire students. It's easier to see someone as a person once you realise you have more in common than you thought and that they don't want to devour you".

That didn't stop me from wanting to keep a sharpened stake on my person, even if it might be more practical to set them on fire with my wand, once I learned how to do that.

I knew that Sirens can use their voices to manipulate the feelings, thoughts, and actions of others, but like the Veela allure and other forms of mind-control magic, it can be resisted by strong-willed people. Occlumency also helps to protect you from what sort of thing?

Gorgons only turn people to stone for a few hours, and it's a defence mechanism, not something they use to prey on people, so that doesn't bother me, even if I am not a big fan of snakes. Which is somewhat ironic, as I am Parseltongue as well as other things.

I can hardly judge shapeshifters, given that I'm technically one as a Metamorphmagus. I imagined I could use that to impress Enid if we got closer.

"What about werewolves?" asked Enid.

She didn't know that I knew she got very furry during a full moon.

"As long as you don't start biting and scratching me, we're cool," I said with a wink. "I have a bit of the wolf in me, too".

I'd have to wait to show her my Animagus form, as I wasn't registered, and I didn't want people to know, as it was an advantage against any potential enemies.

"Oh, so you heard about me?" Enid asked. "Who spilt the beans—was it my ex?"

I smirked at her.

"You said earlier you had to wolf out to help your friend", I reminded her.

I had to be careful not to give away that I already knew a fair bit about her. It wasn't as if I could tell her that she used to be merely a fictional character to me, so I changed the subject and asked her to tell me all about werewolves. She was quite happy to do so, if only because she wanted to natter at someone.

She told me all about how werewolves live in packs consisting of their families, which can be nuclear or extended. The leaders of the packs are the parents. Like wolf packs, the breeding pair—or alphas—are the dominant male and female. The breeding wolves in a pack mate for life and maintain order. The alpha female is the pack's matriarch and can be considered the glue that holds the pack together. This was true for werewolves as well.

"I get the sense that your mother is very much the matriarch of the family," I commented as Enid told me more about her home life," and that you'd prefer it didn't have so much authority over you".

Enid shrugged.

"Sort of. My dad and my brothers are the ones who bring home the bacon, but my Mom is in charge of our home lives, and she rules with an iron fist. So, my Dad doesn't get much say when my Mom decides to do things like send me to school across the country," I was informed.

There was certainly some resentment there.

"And she gets to tell me who I can date. Gorgons are off the menu, according to her" Enid shared with me, you'd be okay because any children we had would be werewolves since it passes down from mother to child. That's one reason werewolf packs are all about the matriarchy. But it's not okay if you hook up with a gorgon or a vampire—because then it gets complicated. I'll never be like my Mom if I get with a gorgon".

While women in real life don't complain about the patriarchy as much as television would have you think, it does happen. And by the sound of it, they wouldn't be any happier with women in charge.

"Wednesday, over here!" Enid suddenly called out.

A rather small goth girl, who looked about as threatening as a 5'1" person could be, came over and sat with us.

"Enid," she said.

The goth girl did not acknowledge my presence at first, which didn't bother me. I'm not a narcissist, unlike some other sociopaths, and I'm wise enough to know that being the centre of attention is often not a good thing.

"Wednesday, this is Antecanis Black. He's a wizard, but you can call him James," said Enid, who was polite enough to make introductions. "James, this is my roommate and bestie, Wednesday Addams."

I decided not to shake her hand as I might not get my fingers back intact.

"Charmed, I'm sure," I said.

Wednesday finally paid attention to me.

"Black, as in the British Pureblood family?" she asked.

Given her love of all things macabre, it shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did that she had heard of my family.

"Yes," I replied. "Although I am all that's left of them".

Enid seemed to find that statement awkward.

"Your family's infamy is well known to me," the goth girl said.

Wednesday's expression remained mostly as impassive as before, but there was a subtle interest in her eyes that hadn't been there initially. Perhaps it was the macabre details of my family history or the fact that I was different from the average student at Nevermore. I had a feeling she was evaluating me—perhaps even intrigued. Not that she would ever admit it, and I didn't bother to inquire.

"Likewise," I replied.

I could tell that Enid was less than stimulated by this conversation, yet she let her friend do the talking. She seemed to be something of a beta female when her friend was around.

"What will you be studying while attending Nevermore?" Wednesday asked.

I had to consult my timetable to remember, and then it was just easier to show her.

"Mostly I'm here to study magic without having to stay in Britain, as my father was known to be a mass murderer—even if it was later proven he was innocent," I said. "I felt it was best to stay out of the country. Wizards and witches in Britain are not kind to outsiders".

Wednesday might have been interested in what I was saying—it was hard to tell.

"Ah, yes, Sirius Black. He murdered one wizard and a dozen bystanders," she said.

"Not quite," I corrected "He was accused of murdering them and was proven innocent when the wizard he was supposed to have murdered turned out to be alive. Pettigrew confessed to the murder of the normies and to faking his own death before he suffered the Dementor's Kiss."

Enid looked confused.

"He was kissed by a demented person?" she asked.

No, but I wouldn't put it past the Ministry of Magic to have that as a punishment.

"Dementors are widely considered by magizoologists to be one of the foulest Dark creatures in the world. Dementors feed on happiness, leaving you with only despair to feel. If allowed to, they suck out your very soul with a kiss, leaving you an empty shell of a person," said the goth girl.

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from joking about it looking like Wednesday had firsthand experience with Dementors. While I didn't think she'd care if I insulted her, there was no point in antagonising such a dangerous person. Plus, I wanted her to like me because I was so going to try to tap that little ass of hers.

"They're used as guards for the wizard prison, Azkaban," I told the werewolf. "I imagine my father could have told us quite a bit about them before he died".

The fact that he was tormented by them for over a decade would bother me if I gave a damn about Sirius Black. The fact that it didn't bother me was something I understood to be wrong.

"This is a bit of a grim thing to talk about over dinner," Enid said, her eyes darting between Wednesday and me.

I figured she was hoping one of us would change the subject to something more upbeat.

"Anyway," I said, shifting my tone to something lighter, "Nevermore seems like a great place to be if you want to learn about all sorts of people and creatures—better than dealing with school in Britain with all its Pureblood politics and Ministry corruption".

Enid seemed relieved at the change in direction.

"Yeah, Nevermore is… interesting, to say the least. I bet you'll fit right in," she stated.

"If only because no one fits in here", added her roommate.

There was something very endearing about how hard Enid tried to make everyone around her feel welcome. Even if I wasn't naturally inclined towards caring about others, I could appreciate her effort when directed towards me.

"So, James," Enid continued, determined to keep things positive, "What else are you into?"

Before I could try to answer, her roommate spoke again.

"I rather like your connection to dark magic and old families with tragic backstories," said the goth girl.

Once I gave it some thought, I realised I don't have any hobbies.

"I'm devoted to learning magic, and I haven't had the chance to do much else since I left the orphanage", I answered, "Which is part of my tragic backstory, so I won't talk about it now and bring down the mood".

Wednesday's eyes flicked up from where she had been silently stirring her food. I felt a little uneasy under her intense scrutiny, wondering if she was silently judging me. The rest of the meal passed with not much else being said.

After she left, Enid sighed and leaned back in her chair with a relieved smile.

"Well, that went better than I expected", she shared.

I had to wonder what she had been anticipating.

"Was that a good first impression or a bad one that I just made?" I asked.

If nothing else, having an Addams dislike me could be bad for my health. I might want to look into protective enchantments for my bedroom.

"You never know with Wednesday," Enid said, laughing a little. "She's great, but she can be… intense".

Bit of an understatement.

"I can tell," I replied.

Enid grinned at me.

"Well, at least you survived your first dinner with her. That's a good start," she praised.

Now we just have to see how things progress from there and see if I can hook up with one or both of these attractive young women and maybe date one of them. We'd see how things worked out.

Paint It Black.

Part 14.

Nevermore Academy - Jericho.

Not long after I arrived at this school, I discovered that I wasn't as cut off from Britain as I would have liked. As I sat in my new room, a House Elf, dressed like a little postman, popped up and dropped off a bundle of letters before vanishing again before I could do more than gawk at the sight of having an unknown House Elf in my room.

The encounter left me somewhat confused until I realised that this must be how Magical America handled international mail. MACUSA was more concerned with security than the British Ministry of Magic, so it made sense that they would have a way to stop foreign birds from flying about the country.

I sat down at my desk and opened the first letter. I felt fairly confident that none of the correspondence was cursed, as MACUSA would have detected it, given how that organisation likes to poke its nose into people's business.

Besides, it wasn't as if I knew how to handle such things even if I could detect them. And if I didn't read my letters, I might be caught unaware by some legal issue. So after some thought, I decided it was worthwhile taking the risk to read the letters as long as I did so carefully after I found a spell that could open the letters for me, and I only touched them while wearing dragon-hide gloves.

The first letter was from Andromeda Tonks, who had written earlier, having her daughter deliver her first letter to me before I left the country. I'd been tempted to ignore my father's cousin, but after some thought, I'd sent a letter to Andromeda, pretending to care about why she'd never been part of my life and telling her I'd get back to her about visiting her home around Christmas.

I hadn't yet planned what I was going to do over the holiday, and I might remain here in America. Because, like when attending Hogwarts, you could choose to stay at Nevermore over the holidays, so I might not even return to Britain until the summer. By then, I hoped to be prepared to handle a few matters back in my homeland.

My student visa would keep getting renewed as long as I was studying, so there was no reason at all for me to go back to Britain full-time for many years. Yet, I chose to remain in contact with Andromeda Tonks because I wanted someone across the pond to send me any Daily Prophet articles that involved me. Best not to be caught by surprise.

Dear Antecanis,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know I wrote to you recently, but I find I am very curious about Nevermore Academy, and I admit I'm hoping you'll tell me all about it. I've heard a great deal about the place, and yet I know very little. A lot of the British magical society looks down on anything foreign, so any charms it has would have been completely lost on visitors from Britain.

And of course, I want to know if you are settling in and if you are making any friends. What are the accommodations like? Do they have Houses like Hogwarts, common rooms, or grumpy Potions teachers in the basement? That last part is a question from my daughter.

So far, there haven't been any articles involving you in the newspaper, but it hasn't been long since the last one. There might not be for a while, as Nymphadora suspects that the Ministry is putting pressure on the Daily Prophet to stop writing about Sirius Black so that people won't be reminded of the miscarriage of justice that destroyed your father's life.

Should that change, I will send you the article as promised. Until then, try to enjoy your schooling at Nevermore, make some friends, and maybe spend some time with a pretty girl.

Warm Regards,

Andromeda Tonks

I suspected that Andromeda had imagined it would take longer for her letter to arrive and that by the time I got around to replying, I'd have had plenty of time to properly settle in. Given this, it made sense to delay sending my response, and it wasn't as if I had much to report, even if I felt like writing back this soon.

The second letter came from an unexpected source. I hadn't imagined that Harry Potter, of all people, would write to me, as the only connection we had was a man who had died in Azkaban. Sirius Black might have been his godfather, but that didn't mean he and I were family.

After some thought, I decided not to deal with that right now. While there could be some benefit to being on friendly terms with the Boy-Who-Lived, I just didn't know what I would say to him. Plus, I would have to be careful what I told him, as no doubt Dumbledore would read any letter I sent to Potter, and I didn't want to be involved with the Headmaster at all if I could help it.

The other letters turned out to be rather shocking in terms of their contents—not because they were cursed or anything like that, but because they were offers for arranged marriages. This wasn't something I thought would happen in the Wizarding World outside of fanfiction.

As I checked the return addresses, I started to notice a common connection between the young women being offered as future brides.

Daphne Greengrass: A Slytherin student

Millicent Bulstrode: A Slytherin student

Tracey Davis: A Slytherin student

I didn't know about any Lily Moon or Sophie Roper, but I wouldn't be shocked if they were also Slytherins. The whole arranged marriage thing must be kept to certain families who were very big on Blood Purity. No mention of Pansy Parkinson, but she was Draco Malfoy's minion, if I recall correctly. Her family must want a match with the Malfoys. That family wasn't as old as the Black's, but they were rather wealthy.

Given the number of girls on offer, I had no doubt there would be more offers in the future now that I wasn't thought of as the son of mass-murder. I imagined that a lot of Pureblood families were interested in gaining a connection to my name and access to my family fortune.

I wasn't stupid. I knew these families wanted to control the Black name and fortune, and because of that, I had no intention of replying to any of these offers anytime soon. Outright refusals might anger some of these pureblood families, so I wouldn't take any action until I researched the proper protocol for this situation.

Now, it seemed much wiser to stay in contact with Andromeda Tonks. She had successfully cut herself off from the purebloods once, even marrying a Muggle-born, and should be able to help me do the same. I had no desire to marry, and even if I did, I certainly wouldn't marry some inbred pureblood, but it would be good to know how she got some distance between herself and the Purebloods.

I decided to get ready for the day and put on my new uniform. I did wonder about the outfit, as it seemed a bit silly to have adults in school uniforms. But upon thinking about it, I realised that the vampire students all wore the uniform, and from what I understood, they could be around a hundred years old. If they wore it without complaint, then so could I.

Not long after I got dressed, there was a short knock at my door. I opened it to see Enid, looking ready for class. As ever, she seemed happy, and I did not doubt that she'd sought me out to have someone to talk to. In my first life, I'd grown up with two sisters, so I knew that there were times when a girl just needed to natter away at someone.

I would have to be careful not to get too friendly with Enid by becoming her confidante, in case she puts me in the dreaded friend zone. There's nothing more demeaning to a man than getting friend-zoned. I would rather be friendless than subject to such a horrible fate, so I needed to ask her out soon.

To make things a bit harder to navigate, I also wanted to get closer to her roommate, and asking Enid out could be counterproductive to that goal. But it could also allow me to get closer to Wednesday. Perhaps I could suggest a threesome? Wednesday might be freaky enough to go for that, and Enid was the kind of person who was eager to please. Plus, we're at college, and this seemed as good a place and time as any to try such things.

"Are you okay, James?" Enid asked as she skipped into my room. "You look a little annoyed by something. Is it me?"

I decided to tell her about the arranged marriage offers.

"People still do that in England?" asked the perky blonde.

It did sound like something that should have died out with smallpox and sending telegrams.

"If these letters are typical, then yes, they do," I replied. "It's a pureblood thing, I think. Some families are really big on maintaining bloodlines and all that. They tend to be families with connections to old money and dark magic".

Enid looked worried.

"That's crazy. I mean, it's not like they really know you, right?" she wondered.

No, they did not.

"They don't know me at all," I agreed. "It's like they're offering property deals instead of relationships. You have to be a special kind of prick to barter away your child like this".

Maybe, in their minds, they thought they were securing their child's future or something along those lines. But even I would never think of my child as someone to offer to another person, no matter the circumstances, and I don't even want children.

"And… you're not going to, you know, actually consider it?" Enid asked hesitantly.

She sounded more worried about this than she should be, considering we met only yesterday.

"Of course not," I assured her. "I left Britain to escape all that pureblood rubbish".

Enid seemed to consider this for a moment before her usual bright demeanour returned.

"Well, that's good to hear. I can't imagine what it must be like to have people trying to plan your life for you," she said, then paused. "I mean, more than your parents normally do".

She was still bitter about her mother forbidding her from dating a gorgon, by the sound of it.

"You'd think with me not having parents, I could escape that sort of thing," I grumbled. "Now I have other people's parents trying to dictate my future".

Enid offered me a sympathetic look.

"Sounds exhausting," she said with a small smile. "But at least you're at Nevermore now. They can't do anything to you while you're here, so don't worry".

I couldn't help but smile back. There was something about her relentless optimism that was contagious.

"You're right, and I'll try to make the most of it," I replied.

We soon left the room together.

"Will you sit with me during breakfast?" requested Enid. "I want to introduce you to my other best friend".

I wondered who that could be.

"Sure, why not?" I said.

As we walked down to breakfast, I couldn't help but think about how strange my life had become. A few months ago, I'd been an orphan with no prospects, and now I was at Nevermore Academy, dodging marriage proposals from strangers who wanted access to my name and wealth—people who, I was sure, wouldn't have looked at me twice until Sirius Black's name was cleared. Now I was going to breakfast with a werewolf.

We reached the dining hall, and Enid waved energetically to a small group of students. But my eyes were drawn to Wednesday, who was sitting at the far end of the table, focused on a book. She didn't seem to notice anyone around her, absorbed as she was in whatever macabre literature held her attention.

It wasn't long before I was introduced to more of the Nevermore crowd. There was Yoko Tanaka, a vampire who was romantically involved with a siren named Divina. Yoko was Enid's main source of gossip, I soon discovered, as the two of them started chatting as we sat down for breakfast.

Divina, who was sitting, had an expression of one who was used to this sort of thing and retreated into the pages of a magazine, leaving me to try to keep up with the rapid exchange of talk between Yoko and Enid. If nothing else, it was a way to spend my time for my first class here at Nevermore.

Paint It Black

Part 15

Nevermore Academy - Jericho

Having Enid come over to my room after classes to share some wizard treats with me wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I decided to ask her out, but I wasn't too worried about being put in the friend zone since she was trying hard to impress me by sharing tales of what she'd gotten up to before school broke for the summer.

As far as I knew, there were no outright lies, as things seemed to have happened differently in this timeline than in the Wednesday show. Still, I was pretty sure she was embellishing her role in these events rather than outright making stuff up. Yet I found it mildly entertaining all the same, and I was impressed by her accounting as she reminded me that while she was a real person, her life was far from normal.

Before Enid could finish her account, Wednesday knocked on the door and let herself in before being invited, which could be considered rude. However, the lack of a verbal invitation at least proved she wasn't a vampire, since, as in some folklore, the vampires of this world require an invitation to enter your living space, whether it's your home or a dorm room.

The goth girl entered with a small box under her arm and made no move to get closer until I offered her some sweets. I had gotten Kreacher to buy me some wizard candy before I left Wizarding Britain in case I needed something to break the ice with my fellow students. At the rate things were going, I might win Enid over with just some Every-Flavour Beans. This was because werewolves apparently have a sweet tooth—or perhaps a sweet fang would be a better term.

"So, just as Wednesday was about to get ripped apart by the Hyde, there I am," Enid was saying. "I was all 'Get Away From Her, You Bitch!' Then I wolfed out for the first time and got into a fight with the Hyde—and I won. He went running for the hills".

Enid gave her roommate a look that urged Wednesday to back her up.

"That is exactly what happened," said the goth girl, in an even more emotionless tone than usual. "Enid made Tyler her little bitch".

The cuter of the two girls seemed very pleased with herself.

"I think you deserve a chocolate frog," I told Enid. "Be careful—they jump".

The werewolf, proving her status as a fearless predator, yelped in surprise when she opened the little box, as the chocolate frog leapt into the air, only to be caught one-handed by Wednesday, who then bit its head off.

"Hey, that was mine!" Enid complained.

I had plenty of other chocolate, so she needn't worry about going without.

"It's the card that's the best part anyway," I said to the blonde. "Each box comes with a famous witch or wizard; people collect them".

Enid examined the card before Wednesday took it and read the contents aloud.

"Morgan le Fay, more commonly known as Morgana, was a medieval Dark witch famous for being the enemy of the legendary wizard Merlin. She was the half-sister of King Arthur. During her lifetime, Morgan le Fay played a role in numerous events, becoming famed for her powerful magic and healing skills. She was an Animagus, taking the form of a bird, and ruled as Queen of the island of Avalon"

"A fine role model for young women," I joked.

No one laughed or even smiled.

"A worrying amount of her biography seems to be defined by the men in her life," commented Wednesday.

Enid decided to change the subject as I took out some Honeydukes chocolate for us to share.

"So, what did you go and see the Principal about?" she wondered.

I must not have mentioned my donation before now.

"Before I was accepted here, I offered to make a large donation to the school because I thought it might help smooth things over," I told Enid, as she and her roommate listened. "Principal Weems decided not to accept the donation before approving my place here at Nevermore, and she wanted me to see more of the school before I decided how to help with the donation".

Wednesday looked interested—or maybe annoyed. I couldn't tell.

"So, Antecanis, you attempted to bribe your way into this school?" she asked.

While I wouldn't have phrased it that way, it was essentially the truth.

"I was rather desperate to be accepted at a school outside of Britain, but it needed to be one where people speak English, and that limited my options," I explained. "I figured a donation would help things along, and I didn't have a lot of time to find a school, as I was worried that if I didn't get a school lined up, I would be forced to attend Hogwarts".

Enid sounded sympathetic when she spoke next.

"Aww, James, was it that bad back in England?" she asked.

I could have hidden inside Grimmauld Place and gotten tutors, so perhaps it wouldn't have been terrible to stay if I weren't forced to go to school by the Ministry.

"Let's just say that I am glad to be away," I said, "Magical politics in Britain isn't healthy for people like me".

"Not that their efforts worked," Wednesday remarked, "You obtained a place here regardless".

She was right about that.

"I just felt it was better to put some distance between myself and Wizarding Britain, for political reasons," I said.

Enid picked up on the idea that this wasn't something to dwell on, given the mood we were trying to create.

"So, what did you decide to donate to the school?" she asked.

I bit into the Honeydukes chocolate before replying.

"We're getting a computer lab," I answered. "This school tries to equip Outcasts with the tools they need to navigate the normie world, and computers are going to become a bigger part of life in that world over the next couple of decades if the trend I've noticed continues".

Barring a major disaster like a nuclear war, I knew that trend would continue because I'd seen it first-hand.

"Aren't you concerned about helping to turn an entire generation of young people into slaves of technology?" questioned Wednesday.

I shrugged.

"A person should get to decide how much of their life is influenced by technology," I replied. "Besides, no one will make you use the computer lab".

The topic shifted again as Enid inquired why Wednesday had come to my room with a small box under one arm.

"Is it a housewarming present?" the blonde asked.

As it turned out, that wasn't the case. Inside the box was a crystal ball that Wednesday could use to contact her parents.

"Antecanis, last night, Enid mentioned your problem with offers of an arranged marriage," said the goth girl to me "As it turns out, I am suffering a similar nightmare".

Before either her roommate or I could ask about it, the crystal ball spoke to us—or rather, the people on the other end of the magical phone call spoke to us.

"Is that Antecanis Black?" asked Mrs Addams.

Oh wow. Wednesday's Mum is a total MILF—way better looking than in the TV show. Shame she's married and therefore off-limits, as even if she weren't devoted to her husband, getting involved with a married woman would never end well.

"Hello, Mr and Mrs Addams," I greeted.

Now I was a little starstruck, if that term applied here, since this was Morticia and Gomez Addams. Alas, I had no time to ask one of the dozen questions I already wanted to ask them.

"Come closer. Sit next to Wednesday," instructed Mrs Addams. "We have something to discuss with the two of you".

I did as instructed, sitting next to the goth girl on my bed.

"Enid informed me on Wednesday of your issue with certain families in Wizarding Britain trying to arrange marriages with their daughters," Morticia was now saying. "Arranged marriages are normal for certain families here in America as well, including the Addams family and the Frumps, the family I was born into".

I had a feeling that I already knew where this was going, and I was rather taken aback.

"Since Wednesday turned seventeen, and became an adult by the standards of the magical world, there's been pressure on us to arrange a marriage," explained Mr Addams. "It's a tradition for the Addams family that the mother of the children arranges these marriages. When Mama was ready to find a wife for me, she called upon her old friend Hester Frump—Granny Frump, as Wednesday knows her—and Mama arranged for her to bring Ophelia, Morticia's older sister, to meet me. But I'd already fallen in love with Morticia during our time at Nevermore, and after some hijinks, it was agreed that I would marry Morticia".

His wife took over from this point.

"It's clear to me that Wednesday would reject out of hand any suitor I tried to arrange for her, but there are certain expectations when one is part of this family," said Mrs Addams "And when I heard of your position, Antecanis, I had an idea".

Wednesday got impatient.

"To cut a long story short," the goth girl explained, "We should agree to a marriage proposal between us—an agreement that neither of us is required to see through to its end so that we both have an excuse not to deal with any offers of a political match until we are ready".

That was where I figured this was going, and it made sense. It provided me with a good way to refuse any marriage offers from pureblood families, as already having a future bride is a valid reason not to get engaged to some girl. Despite what some fanfics might suggest, polygamy isn't legal in Britain, either in the mundane or magical worlds.

And as for anyone attempting to intimidate the Addams into backing out of an arranged marriage—well, like Mr T, I'd pity the fool.

"It sounds like a logical course of action," I said.

Enid, who had been listening intently, looked confused.

"Wait… so this would be like a fake engagement?" she asked.

Mr and Mrs Addams might be hoping for more to grow out of this, but they knew their daughter well enough not to say that, as it would put her off the idea.

"Precisely, Enid," Wednesday confirmed, her tone matter-of-fact. "It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement designed to allow Antecanis and me to meet our social obligations on our terms. After school, we can revisit this arrangement and decide how to proceed".

Mr Addams' voice chimed in from the crystal ball.

"Ah, to be young again and have to navigate such treacherous waters," he said.

Mrs Addams soon redirected the conversation before her husband could get all sentimental.

"Naturally, there would be certain expectations. Families might seek proof of this 'engagement,' and we must maintain appearances when necessary," Morticia Addams warned us "But given that Wednesday isn't known for public displays of affection, this can be limited to spending time together at a few social events. Perhaps some dancing and hand-holding to help sell it. Are you both comfortable with that?"

I was rather on board with the idea. It might be very sudden, but I did need a solution to my problem, and I would have plenty of time to get to know Wednesday.

"If this keeps Wizarding families back in the UK from trying to take advantage of me, then it seems like a good idea," I said.

It should, if nothing else, let me focus more on my schooling, and this did turn into something more, as I was sure Mr and Mrs Addams had considered, I would cross that burning bridge when I got to it.

"And I have no desire to entertain unwanted courtship attempts or be bound by archaic family traditions," said Wednesday as she diverted her attention to me "This benefits us both, Antecanis, and we would both be free to seek companionship outside of this arrangement as long as it isn't too public".

This made sense to me.

"All right," I said. "It's not like I want to get married—I've only just started living my new life. It'll be years before I'm settled enough to consider having a family of my own".

While Wednesday's posture remained rigid as we sat together, her tone, though still flat, held a faint hint of approval.

"Good. It's settled, then," said Wednesday.

As Mr and Mrs Addams voiced their satisfaction, Enid still looked bewildered. Meanwhile, Wednesday turned back to the crystal ball.

"Mother, Father, if there are no further matters to discuss, I shall proceed with drafting the necessary documents to finalise the terms of my agreement with Antecanis," she said. "I'll send you a copy of the agreed-upon terms"

Mrs Addams spoke before the connection was broken.

"Remember, dear, appearances matter. You must give the world a believable show if they inquire," she reminded.

Wednesday nodded in agreement.

"Naturally, Mother. I have no intention of allowing any suspicions to arise," she assured her parents.

The conversation with her parents wrapped up, and the crystal ball's image faded. For a moment, there was a heavy silence as the three of us processed what had just transpired.

"So…" Enid finally broke the silence. "Are we celebrating this… engagement?"

I reached under my bed for my stash.

"This calls for some firewhiskey," I stated.

Wednesday remained quiet for a few moments before speaking.

"There is no need for celebration. This is purely a strategic move," she said. "And I have a written contract to create."

Enid decided not to try the whiskey. She looked more affected by the agreement than either Wednesday or me, as if she didn't know what to make of the situation.

"I'm going to go with Wednesday and try to wrap my head around this," the werewolf decided.

The two girls soon left me alone, and I decided I might as well start writing back to those purebloods now that I had a valid excuse to refuse their offers.

Paint It Black

Part 16

Malfoy Manor - Wiltshire.

Narcissa Malfoy sat in the conservatory, sipping her afternoon tea and flipping through the pages of Spellbound, the wizarding celebrity gossip magazine she was rather fond of looking through. She wasn't paying much attention to the publication; her mind wandered over recent events as the wizarding wireless played softly in the background.

These days, the house felt rather empty and quiet since her son Draco was now attending Hogwarts, as generations of Malfoys had done before him, and Lucius was keeping himself busy at the Ministry even more so than normal. As such, these days, Narcissa found herself with little else to do other than find ways to pass the time.

The passing of her sister Bellatrix, many of the Lestrange family, as well as her cousin Sirius, who her husband was sure had never been a Death Eater, had left Lucius rather busy of late. The Ministry was in a bit of a state, and it wouldn't do for Fudge to start acting on his own. He might start trying to think for himself.

It wouldn't have been proper for Narcissa to publicly mourn the passing of convicted Death Eaters, those foolish enough not to denounce the Dark Lord. Still, she grieved somewhat for her sister in private while Lucius focused on trying to seize any assets available from the many Purebloods who had died due to the sickness that had spread through Azkaban.

Lucius cared little for the money, as they had plenty of that; instead, he was far more interested in acquiring any valuable family relics or properties. However, he hadn't been very successful in that regard despite his influence at the Ministry of Magic.

The blood connections between different Pureblood families were difficult to navigate, and very few of the Dark Lord's supporters had bothered to write wills, as they hadn't believed they could lose the war. This tangled mess had been left to the Ministry and the goblins of Gringotts to sort out using inheritance laws.

Because the Lestrange family had several branches in different countries, this meant that the fortune of the British branch ended up going abroad, along with their other possessions, much to the annoyance of Lucius and other influential members of their society. Alas, there wasn't much any of them could do about it, given how the laws worked and how the goblins weren't the kind of creatures that could be easily pushed around.

What bothered them both the most was that the entire Black fortune, and everything that hadn't been liquidated by Arcturus Black before his passing, had gone to some illegitimate and unwanted child of Sirius Black. The boy was most likely a half-blood and a bastard, yet because he was Sirius's son and because that blood traitor had been the last person to carry the name Black before he died, his son had inherited everything.

That might not have been much of an issue, after all, accidents could happen, and Narcissa was Sirius's cousin—but the boy had no known next of kin that they knew about, so it was unclear what would happen to the Black fortune; it might even end up in the hands of Andromeda Tonks. Besides, killing this boy right after he inherited would have been a bit too suspicious to ignore, even for the fools at the Ministry.

Narcissa was sure that once this Antecanis James Black—who at least had a proper Black name, even if his middle name was a bit pedestrian—had arrived at Hogwarts, then Dumbledore would have kept a close eye on the bastard, making his elimination somewhat troublesome and risking the Black fortune falling under the control of the Muggle-loving fool.

Perhaps Lucius had instructed Draco to get close to Antecanis, as Draco had already been told to befriend Potter. Most likely, he would have failed again, just as he had to get on Harry Potter's good side, but at least they would have someone to keep an eye on Antecanis. Besides, Draco's failure with Potter could have been due to Dumbledore's influence rather than her son's inability to be charming.

If the boy ended up in Slytherin, Lucius would have had Severus Snape's aid in dealing with him. Given that Sirius and Severus had been enemies since they met, the Potions Master wouldn't have needed much encouragement to help the Malfoys get Antecanis expelled, leaving the boy vulnerable.

That plan, however, failed before it could even begin. Antecanis shocked quite a few people by not attending Hogwarts and choosing to go to school abroad. This wasn't so uncommon; she and Lucius had even considered sending Draco to Durmstrang, to keep him away from Dumbledore's influence, but since Lucius was on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, it would have looked odd to send Draco abroad.

Antecanis Black, going to Nevermore, some peculiar school in America, had been rather brilliant of the boy. Few of the right sort of people had much to do with anything going on in the States, and MACUSA was not as easy to work around or control as the British Ministry.

Therefore, arranging an accident would not be practical and might not be worthwhile if the boy decided to transfer the Black wealth to the States, ensuring the Malfoys could never get their hands on it. MACUSA had different rules than the more civilised parts of the world about what was to be done with an inheritance.

Narcissa had considered venturing to Grimmauld Place while her cousin's son was still in the country, but she hadn't been sure if she could still enter the property despite being born a Black. Then, later, there was the fact that Sirius had been proven innocent when Peter Pettigrew was discovered, which had caught the attention of Amelia Bones, the Head of the DMLE, making it wise for the Malfoy family to keep its distance until matters cooled off.

There were other ways to manage Antecanis Black and the Black name, such as marrying him to one of the daughters of a family over whom Lucius had considerable influence, which was the plan they had in motion now. Once married, it would be simple enough to ensure he died young after fathering an heir that the Malfoys could ensure was raised correctly. Alternatively, if he were controllable enough, he could be kept alive and taught the right way to be a wizard.

Some half-bloods could be useful as long as they knew their place and paid proper respect to their betters. Snape was one of those half-bloods who was careful not to get ideas about this station.

This longer-term plan failed as well when Narcissa choked on her tea while skimming over an article in Spellbound. An article she soon began to read in much greater detail.

The Addams Family has formally announced the betrothal of their daughter, Wednesday Friday Addams, to Antecanis James Black, heir of the illustrious Black family.

Narcissa had to put down the magazine and clean up the spilt tea with a wave of her wand before making sure her eyes hadn't deceived her. Yet, here it was in print: Antecanis was set to marry the daughter of Morticia and Gomez Addams. There was a photo of the American Outcast family, who were rumoured to include witches and other creatures with strange powers, and a separate photo showing Antecanis Black.

Narcissa couldn't help noticing how Antencanis looked like a young Sirius Black, and she wondered how the Addams family had managed to get a picture of her cousin's son. She hadn't even known what the boy looked like.

Wednesday Addams, who did not look happy to be seen with her family in the photograph, was not as pretty as some of the Pureblood girls in Britain. Both of the Greengrass girls were much better looking, but that hardly mattered if this Wednesday Addams had already gotten her claws into Antecanis. She didn't look the type to give up what was hers; there was a hint of something dangerous in her eyes.

Narcissa had never met an Addams and hoped she never would, but even in Magical Britain, that family was well-known. It was even rumoured that the Dark Lord, who had travelled the world to study dark magic before returning to Britain, had avoided going to parts of America not because of MACUSA but because of the Addams family.

The Addamses were a massive family with branches all over the world, and were rumoured to have a stranglehold on dark magic in the States. How much of this was true, Narcissa had no idea, but she was fairly certain she didn't want to find out, given that the Addams family motto supposedly had something to do with eating the flesh of their enemies. Given how creatures they had in their bloodline, that motto could be quite literal.

"Dobby!" she called out.

A battered and bruised House Elf appeared with a slight popping noise.

"Yes, Mistress?" he asked.

The elf was in a poor state, which did not reflect well on the family, and he needed to be dealt with, but House Elves were hard to replace, so killing the creature wasn't practical. This one, while a hard worker, was crazy even by the standards of its inferior race; as such, getting him to smarten up was a waste of time.

"Is my husband back from visiting the Ministry?" she asked.

The House Elf would be aware of its Master's location, and Dobby nodded to share this information before Narcissa dismissed the poor creature. She stood abruptly and walked briskly to Lucius's study. The door was ajar, and her husband was seated at his large desk, poring over legal documents with a furrowed brow.

"Lucius," Narcissa's voice was steadier than she felt.

He glanced up, and she noted that he did not look happy; one of his schemes at the Ministry must not be going well. Sometimes, she wished her husband would leave, bribing Fudge to one of his minions and take up a relaxing hobby, but then she'd have to deal with him being around the house all the time. So, it was for the best that Lucius spent his time playing with his pet Minister.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, his tone laced with mild irritation.

Lucius hated interruptions when he was engrossed in scheming, especially if it pertained to the ongoing mess of asset acquisitions he was trying to sort out. From the look of the documents he was reviewing, Lucius was still trying to find some legal loophole to obtain assets of the recently departed Death Eaters—a waste of time, as the goblins would never let anyone dictate the terms of what went on in their bank.

Narcissa approached his desk and dropped the copy of Spellbound on the polished mahogany surface.

"Read this," she instructed.

Lucius raised an eyebrow in irritation at being told what to do, but he complied, turning to the page she'd opened the magazine to. His eyes skimmed the headline, and then he looked up at his wife with a look of concern on his face.

"Is this magazine reliable, or is it like the ridiculous rag the Lovegoods put out?" he asked.

Narcissa took a seat before replying.

"Normally dependable," she answered. "As much as celebrity gossip can be. And this article was commissioned by the Addams family".

Her husband sat back in his cushioned chair, considering the implications of this declaration.

"Then Antecanis Black is out of reach for now, perhaps forever," Lucius said. "Tangling with the Addams family is… inadvisable. They are beyond our usual means of persuasion or influence. Even MACUSA knows better than to interfere with Addams' business unless they have no other choice".

Lucius rarely acknowledged that anyone or anything was beyond his reach, even though there were a few, like Dumbledore, whom he could never truly control.

"Do you know anything about this girl?" Narcissa asked.

She was more curious than anything else.

"No, but it hardly matters," Lucius replied dismissively. "The Addams family is powerful. They are obsessively loyal to each other and fiercely protective of their own. Harm one, and the entire clan might come down on you. They have the numbers, influence, and wealth to wage war on all of Wizarding Britain if they wished".

Surely they couldn't be that powerful.

"And yet," Narcissa pointed out, "if we do nothing, we risk losing the entire Black inheritance to them".

While it was still a little too early in the day, her husband had decided to have something stronger than tea to drink.

"Yes, that is a concern, but there is little we can do about it," he stated. "The Addamses aren't the kind of people we want to associate with, but nor can we afford to anger them. So, we will not interfere with Antecanis Black. Should he become involved in our affairs, we will remain distant and polite at all times".

Narcissa inclined her head in acknowledgement and left the study, the heavy door clicking shut behind her. As she made her way back to the conservatory, she decided that she would listen to her husband. The Addams family was not one to be trifled with, and at least there was no chance of Dumbledore getting his hands on the boy either.

Paint It Black

Part 17.

Nevermore Academy - Jericho.

While this part of the school was most often used for fencing classes, which I didn't take part in as I'd never held a real sword in my life, it could also be used for other purposes, like my sessions with Milo Raywood, my duelling instructor. I'd hired him to teach me all about both the sport of duelling, and this space was ideal for these sessions because of its size and due to it being empty most of the time.

When setting up this new life, I had ensured that I would have a talent for offensive and defensive magic, rather than for transfiguration, handling magical plants and animals. Sure, this might somewhat limit my career options unless I devoted quite a bit of time to those subjects, but since I was extremely rich, that wasn't much to worry about, and I had other things I wished to focus on.

This was because when setting my new life I'd been far more concerned with learning how to stay alive once the Death Eaters became active again, rather than getting high marks in exams, and while Death Eaters were less of a concern than before with me planning to spend my time in the States, I was sure the rest of the world had its share of dark wizard problems.

Even if no dark wizards outside of Britain would ever desire to target me, there were plenty of dark creatures and dangerous Outcasts out there that I might run into while exploring this world, not to mention bad Muggles, so it was best to be prepared and to make sure I could fight using magic. I still had very little idea of what was out there, hidden from the eyes of mundane humans.

"So far, you have shown some skill in offensive and defensive spellcasting, with you getting to grips with some basic jinxes very easily," said Mr Raywood, my expensive tutor.

This was to be expected since, if memory served, I'd selected to have an affinity for Defence Against the Dark Arts and the Dark Arts themselves. While many might think that should mean I would focus on cursing people and creating abominations against nature, simply throwing around jinxes in a duel is still part of the Dark Arts, which are all about harming others, even if it is indirectly, like when making zombies to guard your Horcruxes.

Jinxes just happen to be the socially acceptable part of the dark arts, and while Hexes are more serious, you can get away with casting quite a few of them in a proper duel. Since I was bound to end up fighting something nasty in the future, it seemed a good idea to know some socially acceptable Dark Arts spells.

Mr Raywood, a retired champion duelist, took up a position facing me across the room, and once again, the two of us went through the motions of preparing for a duel. I knew that to start, the combatants face each other and bow as a sign of respect before taking up an accepted combative position.

This was an important difference between a real fight and a duel. If two wizards simply wanted to murder each other, they wouldn't bother with the formalities, unless you are a drama queen like Voldemort. Formal duelling, which can be as much of a sport as a way of settling disputes, is about more than two people fighting—it has cultural significance, and skipping the formalities is considered disrespectful to wizarding tradition.

Duelling exists as a sport, much like boxing is in the Muggle world. Outside of actual combat, it becomes a friendly competition, and aside from Quidditch, it's one of the few forms of public entertainment they have in the Wizarding World that can draw a large crowd.

This highlighted the main difference between a duel, even one to the death, and just fighting with magic. Taking part in a duel is as much about showing off your magical prowess as it is about defeating a foe or succeeding in a sporting event.

"At the count of three, you will attempt to disarm, disable, stun, or even lightly injure me," said Mr Raywood. "I will protect myself and see how well you are progressing with offensive spellcasting".

My instructor, who was quite spry for a middle-aged man starting to put on some weight, counted down, and when he reached three, I fired off a series of jinxes. Minor charms are meant to inconvenience a person rather than do any real harm.

To aid in learning to duel, I was paying for three lessons a week, so while I'd only been at Nevermore for a few weeks, I'd already learned a lot from my tutor, and I had plenty of books on defensive and offensive spell casting to occupy myself with between practical lessons.

I started with the Jelly-Legs Jinx, Locomotor Wibbly, a spell that made a person's legs feel like jelly. While Mr Raywood swatted the orange-coloured spell aside with a magical defence known as Hex-deflection, it was a good spell to use in a duel and not complex to cast.

My talent for such magic was so good that I didn't need to say the words aloud or make precise wand movements; those were tools to allow lesser mages to focus their intent. This wasn't the case when I tried other kinds of wand magic, but I had a feeling I would master non-verbal spellcasting for all types of magic before too long, as it was a matter of proper focus and control.

Sometimes, if the wand movement was an easy one, I found myself using it to add a little extra kick to my spells. For example, when I used the Knockback Jinx (Flipendo), I made a flick with the tip of my wand, and a blast of white energy struck Mr Raywood's shield. He didn't even budge, but the spell had felt more powerful.

That hand movements and words are so important in how humans use magic is something that makes sense to me, as words are very important to humans, and thanks to our hands, we are a tool-using species, which is what has put us above other forms of life on this planet.

"You'll need to be faster in a real duel," the instructor told me.

I slashed my wand, and a gold-coloured spell—the Pimple Jinx (Furnunculus)—struck his magical shield. I followed up with the Slippery Jinx, which was supposed to make an object slippery and difficult to hold, but Mr Raywood moved his hand, and I missed his wand, which was what I had been aiming for.

"Very good," praised Mr Raywood. "As I've mentioned a few times, you have a natural talent for defensive and offensive spellcasting. If you're willing to keep committing to practising three hours a week as we currently are, then I can have you ready for the junior duelling leagues by the summer".

I was very pleased to hear this.

"You think I can be a duelling champion?" I asked.

My instructor seemed to think so.

"With enough practice, I think so," he said. "Any amateur duelist can throw around a few jinxes, so we'll have to work on your defences as much as your offensive spellcasting. Now that I have a good idea of where your talents lie, I can create a training program for you".

I was rather excited by this prospect.

"There are advantages to becoming a duelling champion," Mr Raywood went on. "While the prize money might not interest you, and the trophies are mostly good for taking up room on your mantle, becoming a champion can open many doors if you ever do want a career".

While having a career wasn't important to me now, wizards can live a long time, and who knows how I might feel about having a successful career in twenty, thirty, or even fifty years from now.

"Aside from that, there's always demand for good duelling instructors, and while witches duel just as well as wizards, I find that male champions can often attract plenty of admiration from young ladies," I was told, "But most importantly, the best duelists develop their magical skills to excel in their field of study and earn the title of warlock".

Since I was somewhat of an introvert, I had little interest in the admiration of others, and a job was no real concern, as I had more money than I could ever spend. However, I liked the idea of using duelling to develop my magical talents, and I knew the title of warlock denoted one learned in duelling and martial magic.

It wasn't a title handed out simply for winning duels but something a wizard earned by making it clear he was not to be trifled with, thus gaining the respect of other spellcasters. I found that I would like to have that title if only for myself, rather than what others would think of me.

"Sir, what would becoming a real duelist involve?" I asked.

It wouldn't be as simple as just continuing these lessons.

"Listen to me, Mr Black, becoming a true duelist and perhaps even a warlock is not an easy thing," he informed me. "If you're serious about competing in the junior leagues, you'll need to commit fully. You have to want it".

Competing in duelling leagues sounded exhilarating. If I became an award-winning champion known throughout the wizarding world, people would no longer see me as just the son of Sirius Black but as a powerful wizard in my own right. Despite not caring much for the opinions of others, being known simply as Sirius Black's son was an issue.

"I want it", I admitted.

"Good," Raywood said. "Now, for the second half of this lesson, we will go over shield spells. If you don't master defence, you'll only last so long in a real duel. Start with Protego. It isn't the most powerful shield charm, but it's versatile and has quite a few variations. I suspect it will take a few lessons before you can cast this spell dependably".

I took a deep breath and prepared for the next part of the session. Magical defence was more challenging than offence; it required focus and a keen sense of timing. Offensive spells could be flung with fury, even if that made them easier to defend against, but defensive magic was about staying calm and in control.

With this in mind, I raised my wand and cast the spell, verbalising it as I did.

"Protego!"

A faint shimmer appeared in front of me, a thin shield that barely lasted a second before dissipating. It was a bit frustrating, but I knew even wizards and witches who had years of magical education struggled to produce a proper shield charm, so I wasn't disheartened by not getting it right as quickly as I had other spells.

"Again," he said, his tone neither encouraging nor harsh. "Until it holds."

I worked to crush any doubts I had. I couldn't afford that kind of thinking. I was Antecanis James Black—I had natural magical talents and skills to develop. I was not some Hogwarts student learning magic like it was a Muggle subject. Magic meant something to me; it made me special and was my key to becoming a powerful man who didn't need to kowtow to bureaucrats and leave the country to avoid the attention of the media.

Finally, I managed to hold Protego long enough to block one of my teacher's jinxes, the shield holding like a pale, almost invisible barrier in front of me. As it did, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Well done," Mr Raywood said. "You'd be surprised how many novice duelists can't produce a decent shield charm. Some rely on dodging spells or counter-jinxes to remove the effects of a jinx, but with a good shield, you can avoid being hit altogether. It also forces your opponent to use more powerful spells to overcome your shield, and this can tire them out".

In this world, mages don't have a set amount of mana that refills over time, but duelling is both physically and mentally taxing, so stamina is important.

"A good shield charm can also frustrate your opponent," he continued. "They can end up devoting too much of their energy to offensive spellcasting in an attempt to beat down your defence, leaving themselves open to a sudden attack".

With a nod, I took my place again, wand poised, and I looked over to meet Mr Raywood's gaze.

"Let's go again," I said. "I want to focus on my shield charm".

I would master duelling and become a champion, for myself and no one else.

Paint It Black

Part 18

Nevermore Academy - Jericho

Wednesday Addams looked at the small clock on her desk and found herself concerned about her roommate. This was an odd state of affairs for Wednesday, as she wasn't one to worry about people outside of her family. Yet, Enid Sinclair had somehow managed to worm her way into what passed for a heart within Wednesday. An impressive accomplishment that was also quite bewildering.

This feeling of concern annoyed her, but there wasn't much she could do about it, as Enid had some strange ability to make people like her despite her annoying habits. So all she could do was wait for Enid to return from her date with Antecanis James Black while also hoping that all had gone well for the werewolf while she was away.

She couldn't complain about Antecanis Black taking Enid out to —wherever it was they'd gone—since it was part of the agreement she had written up just to make things clear for Antecanis what being her fake future husband required from him. The document had no legal weight, and made clear both of them were free to date as they saw fit, except for certain social events when Antecanis would escort Wednesday just to keep up appearances.

Yet, as Wednesday sat at her desk and tried to write, she found herself slightly bothered that Antecanis Black had gone out with Enid—and she wasn't sure why. Did she feel possessive over Antecanis because he was supposed to be her pretend future husband, or did she not like that Enid, her best friend, was showing so much attention to someone else?

No, that was all ludicrous. Even if she needed a best friend (and she didn't), Enid was only out for the afternoon and evening; she would soon return, as it was almost curfew, and while they didn't have classes tomorrow, Enid would no doubt have something else planned to do this weekend so she wouldn't stay away all night.

Wednesday had seen what her roommate was capable of in a dangerous situation, and Antecanis was a wizard; between them, there wasn't much out in the world that they couldn't handle. If Antecanis did anything to Enid, well, that was why Wednesday had the nail gun kept under her desk.

Wednesday's keen hearing picked up the sound of familiar giggling. That was Enid for sure, as no one else she knew ever expressed mirth like that. While the goth girl felt the urge to go to the door to find out what had put her friend in such a good mood, she stayed glued to her seat. She wasn't going to give in to mere curiosity. It wasn't as if she cared that much about what Enid might be doing in the corridor outside their shared room.

Besides, there was no need to rush things. Enid would soon enter the room and share what she'd been up to in great detail—more than enough to satisfy Wednesday's curiosity on the matter. So she did not get up, march to the door, and open it, no matter how much giggling she heard. She stayed firmly in her seat.

When the door finally opened, it wasn't Enid who entered—at least, not right away. Instead, Antecanis came in carrying several heavy-looking shopping bags, bags he soon placed on Enid's bed. Before Wednesday could inquire about the bags, he left again, barely acknowledging her presence, not that she had the right to call out anyone about a lack of manners.

It took an annoyingly long time—although it wasn't really that long if the clock was to be believed—for Enid to finally enter the dorm room, with even more shopping bags, including one that declared her love of New York City. She was wearing a tacky souvenir hat, providing a further clue as to where she had been all afternoon and this evening.

"Did you go to see the Statue of Liberty?" Wednesday inquired.

She was rather confused as to how Enid had managed to get to New York and back during the time she had been gone, as it was at least a four-hour drive each way.

"Yeah, James took me to New York on his motorcycle. It didn't take long because all the roads were doing this weird bendy magic thing," reported the werewolf. "I was too busy holding on to see much of it".

Wednesday assumed that Antecanis, who insisted on being called James, as if Antecanis wasn't a perfectly good name, must have enchanted the motorcycle to make faster trips or more likely had a more experienced wizard do it for him.

"So, Enid," she said, her voice colder than usual, "you risked life and limb to go hurtling down roads while defying physics just to see some… tourist traps?"

Enid grinned, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

"And to shop!" she exclaimed.

There seemed to have been a lot of shopping involved.

"Every time we got on his bike, it was like he knew exactly how to get where we wanted to go," Enid continued. "We saw the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, and those two towers that are part of the World Trade Centre".

Enid paused for a moment.

"For some reason, James told me to enjoy them while they last," she added. "I have no idea what he meant; it didn't look like they were going to be demolished".

Wednesday shrugged.

"Boys are strange creatures with alien thought patterns," she said with a complete lack of irony. "Who knows what's going on in their heads?"

Enid was now putting some new clothes she'd purchased away in her drawers. The goth girl felt a twinge of sympathy for the young man, as she did not doubt that the werewolf had dragged the British wizard to an unreasonable number of stores while looking for clothes in her style.

"Then we went to lunch. We had hot dogs because that's what you do when you're in New York," reported Enid.

"Sounds cheap," remarked Wednesday.

Odd, considering the wizarding family known as the Blacks were meant to be quite wealthy.

"Oh no, he paid for all my shopping," said Enid. "He just wanted to have a New York hot dog because it's part of experiencing the city, and we went somewhere fancy for dinner later on".

Given how much Enid had brought back with her, she must have spent quite a bit of money. Although if rumours of the Black family's wealth were anything to go by, it was probably pocket change to him.

"So you found the excursion… stimulating?" the goth girl asked.

If Wednesday was right about the noises she'd heard outside their room, the trip hadn't been all that her best friend found stimulating.

"Yeah! I couldn't wait to come back and tell you all about it, Wednesday," stated Enid. "And when we went to the magical part of the city, I found a present for you at this place called Ebbingdales Wonders for Wizards. It's this huge department store that sells cool magical stuff".

Enid took out what looked like a snow globe and told Wednesday to shake it before setting it down. When the goth girl did so, the globe didn't create a snowy scene but instead produced a tiny tornado that swept through, destroying a miniature New York landmark before the whole thing reset itself.

"I figured it would be to your taste," said the werewolf. "Oh, and I got some perfume for us to share that changes scent every time you spray it".

She plopped down on her bed, still surrounded by some unpacked bags, and looked at Wednesday, her eyes bright with glee.

"James is so cool," she declared. "I'm totally over Ajax".

Before Wednesday could comment on that, a soft tapping came from the window. The two girls turned to see an owl tapping on the glass.

"Why is there an owl here?" wondered Enid.

Wednesday got up and opened the window to retrieve the letter. Once she'd taken it, the owl flew off into the night sky.

"That was Archimedes, Antecanis's pet owl," the dark-haired girl explained. "We've been corresponding by owl post".

Enid gave her a perplexed look.

"Why don't you just walk to his room if you want to talk to him?" she wondered.

Rather than explain (as she doubted her best friend would understand the reason), she opened the letter and read it.

"He's responded to my formal invite to the Addams Family Halloween party with the news that he doesn't know how to dance," reported Wednesday.

Well, that wouldn't do at all. How could her pretend future husband not dance with her? That would be a clear indicator to anyone attending the party that she and Antecanis weren't as close as they should be.

"You should give him dancing lessons," suggested Enid. "That might be romantic".

Wednesday raised an eyebrow.

"Why would you want me to be romantic with the boy you're dating?" she asked.

Enid didn't seem concerned.

"I thought we were sharing him?" asked her roommate. "Or at least you're borrowing him for special parties. I don't mind if he takes you out—it's not like you'd be interested in him that way, right?"

Wednesday was unsure how to respond.

"If he's going to attend the Addams Family Halloween Gala, he'll need to at least understand the basics," she said, more to herself than to Enid. "An inability to dance is not an acceptable reason to refuse to attend the gathering".

Enid's face lit up with excitement.

"Oh! This could be so much fun! You could teach him one of those waltzes or something!" She started humming a vaguely waltz-like tune, then paused. "I mean, he should be prepared. What if other people want to dance with him? I hope you don't have a long list of single cousins".

That wasn't much of a concern. Aside from herself, her brother, and her Uncle Fester, most members of her family were married, and those who weren't wouldn't be interested in a British wizard, as they were rather dull creatures for the most part. Then again, Antecanis was wealthy, alone in the world, and came from a lineage of dark magic. She could think of a few members of her extended family who might seek Antecanis as a husband.

"I do need to make sure that no husband-seeking wenches get their claws into him," said the psychic.

Enid giggled all of a sudden.

"What?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow.

Enid shrugged and smiled.

"It's just nice to see you getting involved in something that isn't a murder mystery," said the young werewolf. "You're taking this pretend engagement stuff very seriously".

Why wouldn't she? If she didn't, then her parents might try to set her up with suitable partners from respectable families. She would have to drive them all off, and that would be a lot of work. Best to use one boy as a shield to keep the others away, as that would give her more time for her writing and her studies.

"I am invested," Wednesday agreed. "In ensuring my social façade remains intact, Antecanis is simply a means to an end—one that won't work if he can't dance at the party on Halloween".

Enid chuckled as she reached for her perfume, spritzing it into the air. The room filled with a scent reminiscent of autumn woods. It was not unpleasant.

"Well, maybe that means you should give him some private lessons," the cheery werewolf suggested.

Wednesday tilted her head thoughtfully. Dance lessons did make sense, and she could use the time to prepare her date for the evening, to teach him how to interact with her family. And Antecanis was pleasant enough to spend time with, at least compared to others at Nevermore.

"That seems like a good idea", stated the dark-haired girl, "Enid, I will be borrowing Antecanis for dancing lessons. It may take some time".

Her roommate just smirked and started paging through a magazine she'd picked up while out today. Her roommate could be very predictable at times, and it was funny to watch Wednesday talk herself into doing something she badly wanted to do. As for James, well, it wasn't as if he was going to get married anytime soon, and who knew how things would work out.

Paint It Black

Part 19.

Nevermore Academy - Jericho.

While I'd never understood why magical people spent so much time studying astronomy, there are a couple of good reasons to keep an eye on the cycles of the moon if you happen to be a wizard. One of those reasons is that some potion ingredients can only be harvested under the light of the full moon. This was why I was in the greenhouse so late, carefully removing leaves from a plant I planned to use in a potion I would make as part of my magical education.

The other thing you need to be wary of is that werewolves are real in this world, and a large number of them can be found here at Nevermore. Despite this, werewolves aren't normally a concern for wizards in America because while MACUSA is a rather strict government, if you fill out the right paperwork and follow the rules, they don't tend to discriminate as much as the British do—or at least not in the same way.

As such, werewolf groups like the one led by Fenrir Greyback don't exist here, or if they do, they're keeping their heads down. It wouldn't shock me if that were the case, as the Magical American community does have hunters who deal with things like Hydes and Wendigos. I would have to look into the group, as being a monster hunter could be an interesting career if I don't devote myself to simply studying magic.

It also helps that, in this part of the world, werewolves are mostly part of strong family units and organised into clans, which makes it harder for people to push them around as a minority. However, MACUSA is very strict about werewolves being locked up during the full moon. Because of the focus on security, it was very worrying to find that they weren't all locked up tonight and that at least one of them was prowling around the greenhouse. This was not normal, and I was understandably worried for my safety.

For most of the staff and students, werewolves, even when in their monster forms, aren't a huge concern. Werewolves normally only go for humans when they attack, as species like vampires, veela, and gorgons can't be turned into werewolves, and they are hardly defenceless. Gorgons can turn people to stone, even if just for a short time, and vampires have all sorts of freaky powers from what I understand.

Psychics and other humans, including wizards such as myself, do have something to fear, but as an animagus, I don't need to worry about getting infected. One of the interesting things about being an animagus is that even in our human form, we can't be infected by the curse. I recalled reading in a book about Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration that you cannot have more than one animal form, so you cannot become a werewolf if you're an animagus, and vice versa.

Not that I was too concerned about that right now, nor did I wonder for the hundredth time how I could be both a Metamorphmagus and an animagus, something else thought to be against the rules of magic, because there was a werewolf prowling around outside, and while it couldn't infect me, it could still rip me to bloody shreds without much effort.

Despite my growing panic, I found myself wondering if I should call out for my phoenix. He could get me back to my room quickly—unless he wasn't around, and calling out for him would alert the werewolf to my presence. I found myself unable to call out loudly for fear of attracting the werewolf. Phosphor must be asleep or something, because he certainly wasn't sensing my need for a quick escape or hearing me when I whispered his name.

I also didn't know how to apparate, not that it would matter because Nevermore was bound to have defences to prevent someone from teleporting in or out of the school. Portkeys are so heavily regulated that you can't just carry one for emergencies, and even if I had one, there are ways to prevent them from working, so it might not have helped in this situation. I couldn't call for Kreacher either, as I would have to yell for him to hear me, and that werewolf was mere meters away. Besides, could he even teleport across the Atlantic?

The werewolf was now climbing onto the roof, and one of the skylights was open. Some part of my mind managed to run through a few ideas, as limited as my choices were, I could run, fight, or turn into my wolf form and hope the werewolf lost interest. They rarely harm animals since they have little to fear from other predators, even something as powerful as a wolf.

I chose the third option, and if there had been a better choice, I didn't see it, as I wasn't thinking clearly. But things worked out, as the werewolf turned out to be Enid. In my wolf form, I could smell her despite her not being herself. I doubted any other werewolf would smell of expensive perfume and make me want to pet her.

Despite my desire for petting, I stayed as still as possible and kept my distance. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel threatened by me. I knew Enid was a very kind person, but I had no idea if she was even aware of herself. People born into werewolf families for generations are not like those who have been bitten; there are differences, and while I read up on the subject, I found I couldn't recall the important details at this time.

I mentally debated my options for a few seconds, finding myself about to think more clearly. I could try to communicate, but words would be meaningless to her even if I could speak. Another option was to make a quiet escape, but any sudden movement might provoke her. My best hope lay in avoiding any threat display, allowing her to see me as non-threatening and to hope she left the greenhouse.

Slowly, she turned her gaze my way. Her eyes and fur were undoubtedly colourful, but my wolf eyes didn't see colour as well, and my night vision was limited even in this form, so I couldn't make out details. When Enid moved closer, I felt my hackles rise instinctively, but I held my ground, lowering my posture in submission. She was the superior predator, and I'd be a fool to challenge her. Her gaze softened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of recognition. Could she smell me despite my current form, as I had been able to detect her?

Taking a slow, steady step forward, I lowered my head further, trying to communicate that I wasn't a threat to her at all. She watched me, her breathing steadying, and then, as if satisfied, she backed away and, in an impressive feat of agility, leapt out of the greenhouse through the skylight she had used to enter.

Relief washed over me, but I didn't dare let down my guard yet. I watched as she leapt off the roof, vanishing into the shadows of the grounds, leaving me alone. I finally relaxed, feeling the tension drain from my muscles as I shifted back to human form and moved to leave the greenhouse.

Only to have to turn back to my animal form when I realised Enid was waiting for me outside. She didn't attack me; rather, she seemed to be signalling for me to follow her into the woods. I wasn't sure what to do, but in the end, I decided to follow her. If nothing else, I should make sure she didn't attack a human, not for their sake but because the guilt of hurting someone would consume her. Besides, I didn't want her to be locked away or be put down by MACUSA. I'd become rather attached to her.

So we raced off into the dark woods together. As we did, the part of me still thinking as a human (since I was thinking as both wolf and man right now, at least part of the time) realised with some amusement that my father must have done this some nights while at Hogwarts. Now, here I was, running through the woods with a werewolf. Perhaps if I ever have children, I could turn this into a sort of family tradition.

I never thought much about Sirius Black; he was a sperm donor, and I knew even less about my mother. Yet tonight, I kept wondering if he'd felt the same when he ran into the Forbidden Forest with Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew. I could understand why he did this despite the risks.

Enid, for her part, seemed rather calm, not at all like the crazed predator most people assumed werewolves became under the full moon. As we moved, I realised she was guiding me somewhere. I kept following her, trusting her in a way I wouldn't with just anyone. This was Enid, after all.

Before long, we reached a small hill that offered a clear view of the sky and of the moon that looked very large tonight, even for a full moon. We both howled at it for the sheer joy of it. Other werewolves joined in, somewhere in the distance, and there was something incredibly freeing about it—a release of emotions I didn't even realise I'd been holding in. I'd never been very good at articulating my feelings, so this was quite refreshing. In contrast, Enid's howl had something almost melodic in it, a hint of her gentle spirit even in this wild form.

As we fell silent, a strange calm settled over the hill. We sat side by side, gazing at the vast expanse of stars that looked rather different through the eyes of a wolf. It was now quiet enough to hear the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional distant hoot of an owl that hadn't been scared away.

Then we spent hours roaming the woods, tracking different scents, and avoiding the werewolf students, who seemed to have stayed together as a pack. They had their fun, and we had ours, and they didn't care that we were around as long as we kept our distance.

Eventually, the first faint light of dawn appeared, and I sensed a change in Enid. She was coming back to herself, her human side slowly reasserting itself. I shifted back to human form as well, and when I did, I was very glad my pouch with an Undetectable Extension Charm on it stayed with me, as it contained, among other things, a tent, some spare clothes, wet wipes, and even a bit of food.

I watched from a short distance as Enid, whose clothes hadn't been destroyed by her transformation, which didn't make any sense, returned to her human form. My clothes remaining intact didn't make any sense either, but I didn't complain.

She looked around, disoriented but unafraid. Her usual spark began to return as the faintest glimmer of recognition passed through her eyes when she caught sight of me.

"How did I get out of the cage?" she wondered.

I shrugged and set up the tent with just a wave of my wand. I figured she would want to get inside and warm up.

"No idea," I told her, "We ran into each other after you got out".

I wondered if it had been some sort of sabotage, as securing werewolves didn't seem like something a person would be careless about.

"Did… Did we just spend the whole night out here?" she asked.

Before I replied to that, I let her marvel at how the tent was bigger on the inside. That she didn't react that much to the sight let me know she wasn't firing on all cylinders yet. Which was likely why she hadn't yet gotten around to asking me why I could turn into a wolf.

"Yeah, we did. You led me out here," I replied, "Now, how about a cup of tea, or you could have a bath?"

She decided to go for the bath before she had any tea, and while I didn't have any girls' clothes for her to change into, I didn't think she'd mind wearing some of mine until she got back to the dorm if it meant she could clean up sooner rather than later.

I decided to make some breakfast because if Enid felt like me, she was feeling rather hungry after spending hours running around in the woods. Besides, it gave me something to do as I wondered what all this meant for the two of us.

Paint It Black.

Part 20.

Woods - Jericho.

"Oh, now you turn up," I said to the familiar-looking bird who had perched himself up in a nearby tree.

My phoenix had finally made an appearance, and while I couldn't be sure, I got the sense that the magical creature was amused by what was going on. For all I knew, he had purposely not come to my rescue last night because he had known I wasn't in any real danger, and the magical creature might have even had an understanding of what would happen.

No one knew much about phoenixes as they were aloof creatures; only a few had ever interacted with wizards, and their motivations and intelligence were hard to understand even by those who were bonded with one from what little I understood. So for all I knew, he had been watching last night's adventure.

I closed the flap of the tent and moved inside. Looking around, it would be easy to believe that I was now standing in a nice apartment if not for the fact that the walls were made of fabric and there were no modern electronics around. Even if they did work around wand magic, something I would need to test, there was no way to plug anything in, so I had to make do with appliances powered by magic.

Soon, I moved into the kitchen and waved my wand around, performing a few household charms that I knew would go unnoticed by any sensors MACUSA had set up, because if they hadn't, I already would have gotten a good telling off and at least a fine by the American magical government.

While I didn't know for sure, my thinking was that one of the reasons why MACUSA didn't interfere with Nevermore Academy or its relationship with the nearby Muggle town of Jerchio had to do with something supernatural around here, making it difficult or even impossible to track any magical activity.

This would explain why no Hit-Wizard, the closest thing the magical world had to SWAT teams, and they were rather good, as Aurors would call them in when they needed backup, hadn't tracked down the Hyde. A creature that dangerous would be a great threat to the International Statute of Secrecy, not to mention human lives.

If this were the case, then I should be able to get away with casting any kind of spell I desired as long as I stuck to this area, but on the off chance that I was wrong, I wasn't going to be casting any powerful spells outside of tutoring sessions. Even if MACUSA wouldn't lock someone up for performing household charms in the woods as long as there were Muggle witnesses, there was no sense getting into legal trouble.

I did have Muggle-Repelling charms as well as other basic protective charms set up around the tent, so I was taking some security measures. As to why I needed to use household charms, that was because I was making Enid and me some breakfast. I could have just cast a cleaning spell on both of us and walked back to the school, but Enid was worn out, and I was tired too, so getting some rest before heading out made sense.

Besides, this was a good chance to spend some time alone with Enid, and I knew enough about werewolves to know that their need for protein increased around the full moon. I imagined the transformation took a lot out of them. With this in mind, I reached into the cold box, the magical version of a refrigerator, a box enchanted to preserve food, and I decided to fry up some bacon along with a few eggs.

I was craving this myself, and I knew that Enid would likely be doing the same. The smell of cooking food brought Enid out of the bathroom, and I thought she looked rather cute wearing one of my t-shirts, which was very oversized on her since she was a petite young woman.

"Oh, that smells so good," she commented.

She then gave me a perplexed look.

"Where did you even get that from?" she wondered.

I'd read The Deathly Hallows book, so I knew that even people with years of experience with magic can go hungry if they aren't prepared.

"When I put together this tent, I made sure I'd have everything I would need to live off the grid," I explained. "Just in case I ever ran into some trouble. The magical world can be unpredictable at times, so I felt it was best to have measures in place in case things got dangerous or someone took my home from me. I don't have a family to fall back on, unlike most people".

Enid frowned upon hearing that, feeling sad about my lack of blood relatives, I assumed.

"Plus, this tent is useful for a bit of unplanned camping," I said, making myself sound more cheerful.

I placed our meal on the table in the main area of the tent, which would be a living space in a real home, and I served some tea.

"Sorry, no coffee," I told Enid, "I didn't think to pack any".

She didn't seem to mind.

"So this is like an English breakfast?" she asked. "How fancy".

I'd ended up making bacon, eggs, and baked beans, along with toast, going a bit overboard perhaps.

"Something of a full English breakfast," I replied, "I'm rather hungry this morning".

Saying this reminded Enid of what had happened last night.

"So when were you going to tell me you are a skinwalker?" she questioned.

In certain mythologies, skinwalkers are said to wear animal skins to gain the animal's powers, nature, and attributes. Some stories say they can become animals in form but retain their human minds. This was a different kind of magic than the advanced transfiguration that an Animagus learned to us.

They differ from Animagus because a skinwalker can use the pelts of different animals. Animagus can only turn into one kind of animal that reflects their spirit in some way. Sirius Black became a dog because he was loyal and friendly, and Pettigrew was a rat because he could be sneaky.

"I'm an Animagus, not a skinwalker," I replied.

After quickly explaining the difference, I asked her not to mention my ability to transform as I wasn't registered as an Animagus.

"I think we did things a little backwards," commented Enid as we finished eating. "I think we were supposed to have breakfast after spending the night together, sure, but not running around in the woods. I thought we would go out for dinner and then wake up together after we sneaked into your room back at the school".

That was how such things often worked out.

"Neither of us is exactly normal", I pointed out.

I sipped my cooling cup of tea as Enid spent a moment in thought.

"So do we go to bed now?" asked the blonde girl. "I need a nap".

That did seem like a good idea, and not for the reasons a guy in my position might be thinking, even if I did plan to make a move, I did fancy a nap.

"I could do with a lie-down," I told the werewolf.

Without another word, because what needed to be said? We quickly took off our clothes as we entered the bedroom part of the tent, both now in just our underwear, and we crawled into bed without getting a chance to see much of each other. Not because it was cold, but rather because Enid suddenly got a bit shy, and we were both eager to lie down.

As soon as she made it clear that she wanted my attention. I was happy to give it to her. Enid began letting out a series of quiet moans and gasps, clearly enjoying the feeling of me groping her young body and kissing her. I quickly figured out that she had a weakness for kisses in certain spots, and she liked it when I stroked her as if she were a puppy.

A lot of my blood began rushing downwards, causing my dick to stiffen up. I figured that Enid might not have seen a hard cock before, as while she looked down, her hands stayed far from it, and her attempts to feel me up made it clear that she didn't get how a man's body was different from a woman's.

Lucky for her, I did understand that it wasn't wise to go for the tits or pussy right away. I made sure to run my hands all over her soft body before I went for a part of her that she might not be so comfortable with me touching. For someone who could turn into a creature strong enough to rip a human being into bloody chunks, she was quite soft in body.

"James, how do I make you feel good?" Enid asked when we both came for air, "I've never gotten this far with a boy before".

I took one of her hands and guided her on what to do to make me feel good. Enid giggled as she groped my cock through my boxers under the covers.

"Just keep the claws sheathed," I told her.

I was well aware of what she could do with those claws.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," she promised. "And you need to do the same for me. This is my first time, and that means you take it slow, and we need some protection".

That might be an issue if she insisted on using a condom.

"I don't have any condoms," I told her.

Enid looked disappointed.

"Can't you just... pull out?" the blonde girl questioned.

She clearly didn't care much about the risks involved. She was horny; I could feel the heat coming off her.

"Don't worry, I can take a potion to make sure I can't get a girl pregnant," I mentioned.

As for STDs, unless a disease was magical, like dragon pox, there were easy ways to rid yourself of illnesses with potions, and I had great resistance to disease thanks to how I had set up the CYOA. Plus, we were both virgins, or at least I was in this life.

"Oh, that makes things easier," said Enid.

As I got the potion and drank it down. The blonde werewolf shifted about in bed and soon threw a set of pink underwear off into the corner of the room. With that, she made it clear that she had no intention of putting them back on anytime soon.

Then, as I removed my underwear and got my back into bed, she grabbed my dick again and started pumping it with one hand with enthusiasm, having already gotten over her early shyness. I had to stop her as she was very eager to please, and I didn't want to fire off before I had even gotten inside her.

I soon put my dick into her, and I found it hard not to fill her pussy while ramming my hips into her, because I didn't want to hurt her, despite my lack of empathy towards most other people. I managed to do it slowly and found my dick enveloped by a warm, wet sensation as she began to get used to having me inside of her.

"You're so tight," I needlessly commented.

Once I was inside her, I didn't move right away, as I could tell she was trying to get used to the sensation and to deal with the pain she was feeling.

"Good girl," I told her.

She smiled despite the discomfort she was currently feeling.

"Oh yeah, keep calling me that," Enid said with a moan.

Before I could, Enid pulled me closer to her, and we kissed as I began to slowly move my body. I knew that she would adapt quickly to having me inside her, as she was very much ready for this, as long as I gave her some time, and after a while, I began to move a bit quicker. Making sure she was okay with it.

"Good girl," I repeated.

For sure, she hadn't gotten enough affirmations when growing up, if my words were having this much of an effect on her. If I hadn't been inside her, I might have taken the time to ask more about her mother because someone had wounded Enid's self-esteem. As it was, I was too busy picking up the place, creating pleasant friction, as Enid began to enjoy having me inside her. She held onto me as if she were worried I might suddenly get up and leave, not that it was likely to happen since I was balls deep inside her.

Rather sooner than I would have liked, although to be fair, I was technically a virgin as well, or at least this body was, I found myself wanting to finish. She simply felt too good while under me, and her pussy was like a velvet vice crossed with a milking machine.

"I want to feel it inside me," she told me.

No sooner had she said that than I was cumming inside and making quite a mess as she made a noise that was more howl than a scream. We made such a mess between us that I was very glad I knew cleaning charms, and after a wave of my wand, I was free to collapse next to my new lover.

"That was amazing," the young werewolf stated.

While I had a lot more experience than she did due to having been perhaps a little too sexually active while in college and my early twenties during my last life, Enid had done rather well for a virgin. Getting over her shyness and enjoying herself quite a bit.

"It was," I agreed.

Enid snuggled into me, and I took this chance to give her head pats before we both took a badly needed nap. We could deal with the aftermath of last night once we got back to school. Right now, we both need some rest.