Chapter 1
Arcturus Black born 1835, one of the beginnings of the Black family line. Died at 19, survived by two older siblings who would go on to have family’s that would become known as pure bloods in the wizarding world. While the family would rather forget everything about Arcturuss existence and the scandal it would cause their family if the truth was ever to get out. The family name was never forgotten. And Used twice more as the years went on.
The truth was that Arcturus was murdered by his family. Because of the power he possessed. He excelled in most everything. But what he had the most knowledge of, was prophecies. They were never wrong, even simple ones.
This power he began to showcase in his middle and late teens, his family feared, they feared their youngest child would grow too powerful and cause a disbalance in the power the elders held over the wizarding world. That people would begin to look to him instead of them for answers.
So they killed him, on a drafty night on June the 25th of 1954. Their family couldn’t afford to lose the boy's power, so before they drew the final blow they incased his magic inside of a horcrux. A gold necklace.
This necklace was then thought to be lost in time, misplaced or thrown away when it changed hands and the family grew as the years went by. Now it was 1978, and the Black family hardly had any records of Arcturus the 1st. Only a name used to draw back their pure blood history.
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Regulus awoke from his bed at Hogwarts and sat up suddenly. Taking a deep breath and holding the side of his head he recalled the night prior. The death eaters at the school had a meeting, held in conjunction by one of their teachers. This practice had become common to those who joined the group early on. Which was Evan Rosier, Barry Crouch, Severus Snape, and of course Regulus Black.
It had been almost two and half years since he was forced to take the dark mark. He wasn’t even 15 when it happened. Much younger than most members were when they first took the mark.
It was not only because of his heritage, but also because of a skill he seemed to have just awoken with one day. It wasn’t him. It was something inside of him, a spirit or deity, he didn’t know what. He never had any memories from when it happens. The only thing he knows about it is what he’s told.
His eyes begin to turn a gold color, his voice becomes not his own, paired with another’s and his body goes limp. And what he’s saying are some of the most in depth prophecies that even the most advanced wizards can’t predict.
He predicted the rise of a great dark leader, one that would try and bend the wizarding world back to the old times of blood purism and hierarchies among that. He predicted the great events that would happen even in the muggle world. Some of his prophecies even gave Tom Riddle ideas on what to do next.
So of course he was recruited as young as they could. Marking him theirs, their great tool and weapon. One of the best advantages you could have in a war like this one.
He was celebrated, the thing inside of him became known as “the prophet” to anyone who knew. But this great power came with a price to Regulus. At first he was fine after predictions, but slowly over the never few months he grew tired afterwards, then recently he began to faint afterwards.
It took everything out of him to do it.
The prophet was summoned by asking what you yourself should do. What does he see happening? It’s not something Regulus can stop, it just jumps out of him. Even when the trigger phrases are not said. It has a mind of its own and says what it wants when it wants but it’s always the truth.
He began to have a vision during the meeting he supposed, because he didn’t remember coming back to his bed. Barty and Evan must have taken him back after it was over. He looked over at them and they were still sleeping.
They didn’t have classes today so he supposed it was normal. He moved his feet to the floor and stretched out his back and arms. He wondered if someone actually caught him this time or if everyone was gawking at the prophet. He was always sore nevertheless. He got out of bed and began to make his way downstairs to the great hall.
Everyone called the prophet a gift, an omen that they were doing the right thing, and god had graced them with this tool. At Least that’s what his parents always told him.
Regulus didn’t see it as a gift, he saw it as a curse, a punishment. His punishment for not agreeing and going with Sirius, for calling him a coward when really he was the coward for staying behind. Even when he knew the terrible things his family was doing, he wondered what was worse, a hell he knew or one he didn’t.
His relationship with Sirius only got worse after that, he would insult Sirius and do everything he could to get away and get back at him, because he was so angry at his older brother for leaving. For taking the easy way out, for abandoning the one person who had always cared about him from day one.
There was no way he could leave now anyways, The dark lord would track him down. His Prophecies had led to the end of so many ministry lead armies and attacks. Put them in the advantage point over the war, and they couldn't afford to lose knowing what would happen.
Regulus sat down at the slytherin table once he arrived in the great hall, he ate some but not much, His appetite not really being present this morning. Pandora soon joined in beside him, “you look like you haven't slept in days.” She said to him, He nodded. He did feel especially drained at the moment, he probably should've stayed in bed.
He shook his head, “I just haven't been sleeping well lately ‘dora that's all.” He explained to her.
She hummed in agreement with him, “well we're all going home on holiday soon, hopefully you'll get to sleep better in your own bed” she tried.
Regulus let out an annoyed deadpan laugh “ha. Ha. You are just such a comic you know that? “ he told her.
Everyone of his friends knew about how he was treated by his parents and the other death eaters. It wasn't terrible by their standard but he also was only seen as useful for the prophet. And that if he died they would lose it, so it wasn't much less him that was valued but what was inside of him.
“Are you getting on the train tonight or are you leaving Tomorrow?” Regulus asked her if they were taking the same train they usually sat together, gossiping with whomever pandora was involved with at that time. Laughing about how their teachers were all deranged idiots. It was nice, a break Regulus didn’t get to have anywhere else.
“I’m leaving tomorrow” she said to him.
He sighed, and she put her hand on his shoulder. “Break won’t be long Reg, try not to get yourself worked up about it, you have much better things to worry about” she said before getting up and leaving Regulus there.
After watching her exit the great hall Regulus went back to the dorm rooms, most of the Slytherins had left on the morning train so it was peaceful as he packed his things for the two weeks he’d spend in Grimwalds Place. Once he was finished he walked around the common room waiting for the time he needed to walk to the train. He looked at the paintings.
Some were of wizarding moments in time, their history. Others showcased his family, the very early blacks, one that always caught his eye was a painting with three siblings in it. Two of them looked older in age while the third looked almost ten years younger than the other.
He moved closer, starting the youngest in its eyes. They always seemed so familiar. But he could never quite put his finger on what it was. He thought it could’ve been-
Ding
The loud noise from the clock sounded throughout the room pulling Regulus from his thoughts and reminding him that he needed to get down to the train. He grabbed his bags and made his way. Everyone was saying their goodbyes to their friends as they boarded, shouting promises to write everyday and tell each other every detail about their time apart.
Among these goodbyes Regulus spotted his brother Sirius with Lupin, both seemed to be too lost in conversation to notice that he was standing a mere 10 feet away at best. He wondered if he should say something, to wish his brother a happy holiday even if he was a blood traitor who didn’t deserve it. It was the polite thing to do, and Regulus always prided himself in being polite even if it had an underlying annoyance and motive to it.
Sirius then gave the other a hug and stood next to James Potter as they boarded the train.
James Potter had become known rather quickly as “Sirius’s brother” even before the family had their falling out. It seemed the second Sirius went away to school he already had everything he needed, friends, a brother. Regulus was a fool to think it was going to be that easy for him.
Heading the train whistle he boarded the train and took the closest seat. No one bothered sitting next to him, not as if he would talk to them anyhow. So he just stared out the window watching Hogwarts fade away into the distance and how “home” was the next stop for many of them.
Not wanting to think about the next few weeks he rested his head against the window and closed his eyes. Trying to get some rest.