First detention
Lacrimosa dies illa,
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.
Perhaps his dream that faded from his memory not long after he woke up still haunted him or maybe it was how the belt –he used to tie himself to the bed in case of Lucius Malfoy showing up to take him away– had gotten too tight around his wrist and caused him enough pain to awake him in his groggiest mood ever.
Arcturus was sure his growling, starving stomach and the suffocating sensation of his blanket which was pulled over his head, hiding the entirety of his figure under it, had conspired together to wake him up two hours earlier than everyone else. He hadn’t eaten anything in so long and now he was both sleep deprived and starving.
He untied his wrist and spared himself from his urge to laugh at his own idiocy and paranoia of being abducted from the boy’s dormitory, right inside the safest place on earth, Hogwarts. When he finally got out of bed and left the bedroom, the common room was awfully quiet. The water against the windows was calm and he caught sight of a creature moving swiftly in the water. His head turned with a surprised smile that brightened his puffy and sleepy features, to see if anyone else was there to witness it, but to his disappointment he was alone. He made sure to remember to tell Draco about it though, and also Harry. He was going to tell Harry everything about their common room and ask him about his as well. Did they have everything in the color of their house? Did he already make friends there? Surely everyone wanted to be friends with the famous Harry Potter, unlike Arcturus who only had Draco and that was enough for him, honestly. He wished he could find Harry and ask him about his first night at Hogwarts, that is if Harry wanted to talk to him at all after what happened on the Hogwarts Express. Maybe he was biased but he blamed that Weasley with a rat for how things went down. Although this time he couldn’t really find an excuse to justify what Draco said about both Harry and Ron Weasley’s parents.
Around six thirty, Arcturus was moving in the quiet corridors in his awfully unfitting uniform and was determined to find the Great Hall, hoping to get served his breakfast early.
The sun was dressing the sight in a pink fabric of light and this was the most magical sight he had ever seen in his life; the sight of owls flying to the owlery, the calm stillness of the magic that surrounded them, the breathtaking carvings on the ceiling above him throughout the entire corridor and the tainted glasses that were starting to offer their colours to the morning sun, just for the reflection of the light through them make each walls on the other side as magical as a glimpse of this castle. Arcturus wondered if he was the only one awake in the entire school but was proven wrong when a group of rather tall students all dressed in scarlet colour of Gryffindor robes, with broomsticks in hands were walking in his direction. He spotted two red haired boys, the ones that saved him the day before.
Strangely the boys were nice enough to wave at him which was unexpected. Arcturus waved back and grinned.
“Practicing for taking down the Chudley Cannons I assume?” Arcturus asked playfully, his eyes fixed on their broomsticks, they looked as cheap as they come. Thousands of Galleons worth ofGem stonesfor house point system but a ten Sickles budget on broomsticks. This school is pathetic. He thought to himself and smiled in amusement as he watched their proud faces.
“First game is with Slytherin.” The Gryffindor team captain said with an eyebrow raised, chin held high and his eyes seemed to narrow slightly, he looked proud and determined, so much that Arcturus couldn’t help but snort rather rudely.
Arcturus nodded, thoughtfully. “You have my condolences.”
Fred and George stifled a chortle but didn’t look pleased with his sense of humor or perhaps they were good at concealing their reactions in front of their team captain who glared at Arcturus. As they were walking past him, Arcturus caught up to them.
“Help me find the Great Hall?” Arcturus asked, catching up with the twins.
“Breakfast won’t be served until seven thirty.” Fred responded, taking purposeful and long strides out of the corridors along with the team.
“That’s another hour. What am I supposed to do until then?”
George shrugged, handing his club to Fred to fix his elbow pad. “Want to come with us to the Quidditch pitch?”
Arcturus’ ears perked up, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, lighting up his entire face. He suddenly felt much more awake. Of course his answer was a definite yes. He was actually excited about watching them on their broomsticks.
“Not happening. I’m not going to let a Slytherin come and find out about our strategies.” Oliver Wood, the team captain immediately snapped at them but didn’t bother to stop or look back.
“Why not? I’m a first year, I’m not even in the team.” Arcturus argued, frowning. He took bigger steps to reach Wood, trying another tactic. “Have you watched this summer’s game between Falmouth Falcons and Pride of Portree? I was there, it was a magnificent battle field. The commentary was epic and the Falcons’ beater was–”
“Pride of Portree you say? Do tell, how was their new seeker?” Oliver Wood stopped in his track finally.
The team captain wrapped an arm around Arcturus’ shoulders, guiding him with the others towards the Quidditch Pitch. Arcturus flashed a grin of triumph in Fred and George’s direction and began telling Wood everything about the legendary game of last month.
~*~
The Gryffindor practice time was the most fun Arcturus had in a while. The girls in the Gryffindor team not only thought he was adorable and had good hair (which made Arcturus go crimson red in the face), but they were also kind enough to give him half of their sandwich. Although it had little to no seasoning, it was still more than enough for him.
After the practice Oliver Wood was so pleased with Arcturus’ tip for ‘nosedive to intimidate the opposite player’ which the Falmouth Falcons swear by, that he didn’t even react when Arcturus finally introduced himself by his surname Black. He soon realized Wood doesn’t care who you are as long as you can swear to give him a tip worth a sackful of Galleons and you don’t criticize his team or his tactics. He had to be careful the next time he was going to tell Wood about the wrong grip on broomsticks, Wood almost turned him into a Broomstick.
~*~
When he arrived to the Great Hall along with the Gryffindor team, he was immediately met with questioning and somewhat mean looks from the Slytherin table. He was too busy trying to find Draco to even care about them though but when he saw Draco sitting next to Nott, he decided not to go near them and sat alone at the end of the Slytherin table.
At first it wasn’t that bad sitting by himself, the breakfast couldn’t be any more perfect. He remembered telling Harry on the train that the food here was great, and well… he wasn’t wrong.
As more time passed, each time he raised his head from his plate, he began to catch more eyes staring at him and more students whispering to each other after not so subtly pointing at him. He caught himself staring back at them. He knew he probably shouldn’t draw more attention and he had a few guesses on what they were whispering about. Probably about his father or the sorting ceremony. Arcturus was glad the sorting later happened in private and no one knew that unlike other hatstalls who the hat would be torn between houses to sort them into, for Arcturus this wasn’t the case at all. To his understanding the sorting hat simply didn’t want him in any of the houses. That did sting a bit but Arcturus forced himself to look at the bright side, he was still waiting for the bright side to come though.
“Artie, there you are.” Draco drawled as he appeared right next to him, he looked perfect in his uniform and his sleek blonde hair that only reminded Arcturus how messy his own hair must look right now without him brushing it this morning. “I came to your bed to wake you up but you were gone. Where have you been?”
Arcturus raised his head, running his fingers through his hair subconsciously. Tlast bit of his toast barely went down his throat when he rushed to swallow it. “At the Quidditch Pitch. Killed some time before breakfast.” He croaked, washing down his food with some tea.
“The quidditch pitch?” Draco echoed with an eyebrow raised. “Alone?”
“No. with the Gryffindor team.”
Draco looked scandalized. Soon his lips curled with disgust and his brows were furrowed. “The Gryffindor team?”
There was a nasty hint of disdain and mockery in his tone that couldn’t go unnoticed by anyone who heard it. This was a reaction expected from Draco and Arcturus had the urge to snap at him for being unreasonably rude but somehow after last night’s fight in their dormitory he stopped himself and simply shrugged. He then stood up from his seat to follow Draco out of the Great Hall to find their first class of the day.
During the whole day, Arcturus did a splendid job in holding back the urge to snap at Draco every time he was mocking Harry Potter or the Gryffindors or how stupid the classes were. If Arcturus were honest, he feared losing his position as the closest person to Draco. He didn’t want to be outcasted already and he was sure from the way other students were whispering about him or giving him mean looks, it was inevitable.
Yet he couldn’t help but agree with Draco on how stupid the classes were, it was disappointing honestly. He was looking forward to History of Magic but Professor Binn looked as though he was day dreaming about his retirement which would never come. Do ghosts get retired from their jobs? Well professor Binn didn’t look like he would. His next class was even worse. On his way to the transfiguration classroom Arcturus almost fell down a staircase that would vanish halfway and you had to remember to jump. Peeves also had no mercy on him and shouted for everyone to see him rolling down five stairs with his books all the way down the bottom of the floor which meant he had to go down to the middle of the corridors and pick them up. The suits of armours in each floor creaked and clanked, laughing at him. Arcturus soon learned kicking them in the knees and running away was not the best idea when they can catch you or at least looked like they could.
The transfiguration class itself was painfully boring. He did turn a match into a needle as professor McGonagall assigned them to, but when Crabbe was waving his wand furiously next to him, his arm came crashing with Arcturus’ hand that was holding the needle to examine it and he accidentally poked himself with the same needle which was not as funny as Draco made it out to be. Nott laughed at him the hardest when he was wincing while taking the needle out of the small space between his thumb and index finger. It was embarrassing. For a brief moment he wanted to attack Nott with the same needle.
At the beginning of the Charms class, professor Flitwick froze upon his name when taking the register. He looked as though he was dreading this moment. It made Arcturus so uncomfortable that during the whole lesson he’d rather stare down at his desk than to make eye contact with the professor and chose to learn the wand movement for the levitation spell from watching Draco who was sitting next to him. No, he didn’t manage to make his feather levitate but accidentally made it vanish and wished he knew how he did it so he could make Nott’s feather vanish too, as a payback for the way Theodore Nott kept sniggering at him during every class.
This was not how he expected his first day at Hogwarts to go, but honestly it was better than being at the Malfoys, all alone and waiting for an unfortunate fate. He did catch himself wondering what was going to happen to him if he didn’t run away but each time he was brought back to the present moment when he heard the awful appreciative laughter of Crabbe and Goyle to Draco’s mean comments about other students as the four of them were on their way to the classrooms or back to the common room after dinner.
Surely, he expected his day to end in a better way so maybe he could finally take a look at his books and catch up with other students who definitely were prepared for the classes or maybe get some information from Draco about what Lucius told him regarding Harry Potter possibly being the next dark lord but professor Snape seemed to have different plans for him.
He got his first detention on his first day of being at Hogwarts. He wasn’t happy about it of course, but he thought at least his father Sirius Black wouldn’t be type to get into trouble this early on during his time at Hogwarts. It felt like the first ripple in the calm water, his first achievement in being nothing like his father no matter the cost.
Nott had told the Professor that Arcturus had ‘viciously’ attacked him yesterday and seemed to enjoy repeating the events of last night in great details in front of the whole common room.
Arcturus found himself standing there, all embarrassed, angry and filled with rage so out of his capacity when Nott emphasized on the words ‘bastards’, ‘respectable people in the community’ and ‘violent dog’. He didn’t try to explain anything, he stood there and took it all. Perhaps because he was so used to this language being used on him, but also because he was figuring out how to get back at Nott later. Now the needle sounded too extreme and another fist fight seemed troublesome.
He served detention until late that night, scrubbing the Slytherin bathroom floor. He found it much easier to focus on his plans on making Nott miserable than to think about how he was publicly humiliated in front of the whole house and how disgusting the boys Slytherin bathroom was.
By the time Professor Snape came back for him, he stood there, looking proud of himself, with his large nose pointed at the ceiling, staring down at the small figure of Arcturus on his knees with his back hunched and a piece of damp cloth in his hand, cleaning under a sink.
“Enjoying your time at Hogwarts, Black?” Professor Snape sneered at him.
Arcturus stared up at him, he didn’t like how much smaller he looked compared to the Professor, it made him feel really vulnerable so he immediately straightened his spine and stood up, the top of his head hit the bottom of the porcelain sink with a loud thud. The sudden contact knocked the winds out of him and he swore for a moment he saw stars in front of him but he didn’t give the head of their house the pleasure to see him wince in pain, although it probably was clearly visible from the way he was clutching the sink behind him to stand still. Something about Professor Snape’s tone made his stomach churn but he couldn’t understand why the head of their own house seemed to hate him this much.
“I see you’re just like your good for nothing of a father. Can’t seem to be able to do a single thing on your own.” Snape mused, his lips twitching at the corners as though he’s struggling not to grin. Arcturus’ eyebrows tugged together, frowning at him. the realization hit him much harder than the bottom of the sink. The evidence of Snape’s hatred towards him just presented itself; his bloody father.
He contemplated how to respond to that without getting into any further trouble. He could tell the Professor took great pleasure in giving him punishment but a greater pleasure in insulting him and his father both with only two sentences. Arcturus felt a ripple of anger, but he had nothing to say in defense of his father, a convicted mass murderer rotting for eternity in Azkaban. His clutch against the sink tightened and he hoped the cold dampness he felt on top of his head was just due to the intense pain and not him bleeding. Whatever it was, Arcturus could feel the desperate need to let out a cry of pain and how disoriented he was becoming by the second.
“Unlike your father you won’t be able to get away from any nasty tricks and pranks you may pull, not under my watch. Now get back to your room.” He said slowly and in a flat tone, his eyes boring into Arcturus’ and Arcturus left the bathroom after tossing the dirty and soaked cleaning cloth into a toilet seat which almost served him a second detention but he ran away with a small grin tugging at his lips before Snape could even finish the sentence he was shouting.
Back in the common room, most of the students seemed to have gone to bed. Bloody Baron was having a quiet conversation with a portrait of a knight which seemed very serious but upon seeing Arcturus entering the common room they both looked flustered for a moment.
“Hello young one, you came much later than the others.” Said Bloody Baron brightly, a poorly concealed urgency lacing his tone.
“Detention.” Said Arcturus with a tired voice, standing near a black leather sofa to lean against its armrest to keep his balance. His head felt awfully warm and the pain felt like the tides of the ocean and each movement was as though somebody was shaking the globe and a tsunami was about to take over his entire existence.
“I see. Well, I hope you didn’t cost too many house points for Slytherin. Off you go now.” Said Baron, with a touch of his old impatience. His silvery figure was becoming distorted and Arcturus couldn’t keep his eyes from blurring or blending Bloody Baron perfectly with the desks and black chairs around it that stood behind the figure of the ghost. He blinked a few times, hoping his eyes would stop acting like shutters of a camera perfectly synced with each dull throb of his aching head.
Arcturus’ eyebrows contracted, a look of surprise and disappointment darkening his features momentarily. He wondered if Snape was actually going to take points from him because he didn’t mention he would, so in conclusion he fortunately didn’t cost their house any points. Arcturus wanted to tell Bloody Baron about it but Baron was no longer interested in acknowledging his presence in there.
“I heard for his birthday party he’s going to apply once more. Poor fellow is very persistent on joining the headless hunters.” Bloody Baron told the portrait and from their abrupt change of subject Arcturus realized his presence was not welcome there so he took longer strides towards his dormitory room.
The water against the window have seemed to be calm and the greenish lights in the common room were now dimmed. Before entering the bedroom, Arcturus gently touched the top of his head, making sure he wasn’t bleeding but his scalp did feel sore and slightly swollen. He took a deep breath in and entered the room.
“Alright mate?” It was Blaise Zabini, getting up from his bed almost immediately when he saw Arcturus enter.
“Alright.” Arcturus responded flatly, but when he saw the look on the other boy’s face, he wished he could respond in a nicer tone. It was too late for that now, Theodore Nott shot both of them a glare and asked Blaise to turn off the lights so they could finally sleep. Draco was in his bed with the curtains around his bed drawn, leaving him completely hidden behind the thick green velvet.
Arcturus huffed out a sharp exhale and was suddenly reminded of how he still hadn’t come up with a plan to deal with Nott and now he had to find a way to get back at the head of their house Professor Snape too. He was going to make them regret this day.
He dragged his restless feet to his bed, removed his shoes and kicked them under his bed and drew the curtains around his four-poster bed when he finally laid down. Staring into the darkness of his four-poster bed, he chastised himself when he realized after everything that happened today, his first thought was leaving this place. It made him feel like a loser. He remembered how excited he was for finally coming to Hogwarts. He remembered how he ran until his lips were purple and his chest burned from all the running after he left the Malfoy manor. Each step he took was full of so much excitement he felt as though he could burst from happiness. Alas, ever since he stepped foot in this castle, there wasn’t a moment of the joy or excitement he hoped to find here.
His restless mind took him places he wished he could erase completely. Now that the pain in his head was sharpening its claws to keep him under an attack for probably the rest of the night, he found any thought distracting enough to make him not think about the pain wouldn’t be worse than anything that has happened to him today.
Now that he gave in to the vicious whispers of the past, he was once again just a small six-year-old, back in the 12 Grimmauld place with his grandmother.
Arcturus’ hand subconsciously reached down and took out a tiny piece of black shabby old fur that belonged to his childhood plush toy; Mr. Pads the great. The plush toy used to have a voice box with his father Sirius’ voice saying a few words every time he pressed the dog’s paw. He can’t remember the sound of his father’s voice or what he said but he remembered how unwilling he was to let his grandmother take it away from him. He could recall that memory clearly, it was on his sixth birthday, his last day of being with Walburga Black.
Walburga had told him to prepare for his birthday and he did just that. He'd combed his hair after a bath and wore his best clothes. Oh how excited he was for a birthday party. He had dreamed of this ever since he could remember. People singing happy birthday to him and giving him gifts. He even spent days before it to practice every piece that his grandmother liked on his violin, he was going to make her proud in front of the guests. The whole day he’d been daydreaming about the presents he was going to get and the possible praises from his grandmother. He ate less lunch that day so he could later enjoy his birthday cake, he hoped it was chocolate. But the most exciting part would be finally bragging to Draco about his new toys, it was always the other way around.
On his four-posted bed, Arcturus ran his thumb over the fur on the torn ear of the plush toy and huffed out a bitter scoff as he remembered how disappointed he was that day five years ago when grandma Walburga told him to stop being silly, there would be no birthday parties, only a cake that Kreacher had made. It wasn’t chocolate to Arcturus’ disappointment.
“But Mimi, how about presents? You said I could take one of my Papa’s stuffs for my birthday. You know he has this really cool broomstick–” The words died on his tongue upon seeing how quickly Walburga’s expression had darkened and he was back to being a stuttering weak mess again, Walburga always had that effect on him. “I– I never touched it of course. I just looked at it from the key hole.” He immediately added in a timid voice, instinctively clutching his plush toy against his chest. His dangling feet felt cold and somewhat paralyzed under Walburga’s piercing glare.
“Eat your cake and go to your room,” Walburga had snapped at him, she’d been doing it quite a lot that day and Arcturus knew better than to argue. “And leave that stupid toy here. You’re too old to be carrying that around. It’s embarrassing.”
Arcturus glanced at his cake, then at Mr. Pads in his clutch and one brief glance at the door of the kitchen, he was contemplating his chances. His eyes narrowed for a moment and he hoped he could get away with what he was about to do since it washis birthday but it was as if Walburga had read his mind and immediately drew her wand before Arcturus could even dream of running away.
“Stop being such a brat. You’re a Black, act like it.” Bellowed Walburga, her palms crashing against the wooden table, tea cups rattling under her force.
Arcturus flinched, his shoulders slumped and he cowered in fear of getting punished.
“Mimi, you said I could keep it if I just put it out of sight,” He murmured as his head lowered. He didn’t dare look Walburga in the eyes, not anymore at least. “I only brought it with me because it’s my birthday.”
Walburga was on her feet now. The only sound in the room breaking the silence was the sound of her heels against the wooden floor. “Hand it over and go to your room.”
Arcturus stared up at her stretched arm and her other hand holding the wand in an iron grip. He clutched the plush toy against his chest once more and turned his body away as if shielding his toy from any harm. “No, it’s mine.” He said it so firmly that even he was shocked with his newly found courage but in that moment he felt invincible. He really had something that was his, in fact the only thing that was ever his, Mr. Padfoot the great.
Walburga was seething with anger, her fingers wrapped around the plush toy on its’s lower half and was pulling it down from Arcturus’ clutch. This was good, Arcturus thought. She didn’t use her wand yet, this was good. Arcturus was going to fight back, he was now rocking himself back and forth on the chair frantically, his face dangerously coming close to a sharp utensil on the table at one point. He was shouting and jumping up and down in his seat. “No. it’s mine. My father gave it to me. It’s mine Mimi. You said I can keep it if I’m a good boy. Please let me keep it.”
“Give it here, you insolent squib and stop begging like some filthy urchin.” Walburga pulled harder, her other hand now pressing Arcturus back in his seat and finally ripping the toy out of his fists.
Arcturus yanked his shoulder away and dropped out of his seat and onto the wooden floor with a thud. He knew Mr. Pads was still in his hands from the way he could feel the soft fur against his fingertips and for a brief moment all he could think of was running away with it. But when he looked up at his grandmother, the sight terrified him. Mr. Pads was now in her grip. Although it was missing an ear now and its head was falling off.
She looked at him with a crazed look full of disdain and hatred that it shook Arcturus to his core and he found himself shaking, his legs that seemed to be paralyzed earlier were now filled with a warm sensation which turned cold and wet all in a matter of a minute.
“Look at you, wetting your trousers like you’re still a baby. Where have I gone so wrong to get stuck with you,” Walburga’s face was scrunched up with disgust and if her previous look had any indication of her hatred for him, this definitely only meant even his death wouldn’t please her at least to some degrees.
Arcturus’ chin was wobbling and his face was a mess, fat tears rolling down his flushed cheeks and
for the first time in his life, he wished he could run away. He’d never been really out of this place but he was willing to go anywhere, even where his father was, which he didn’t know where Azkaban was at the time, just that it’s a place on an island for bad people who did bad things and that became his one and only birthday wish; To go anywhere that grandma Walburga couldn’t reach him.
Walburga had made the other half of Mr. Pads vanish into the thin air with a flick of her wand while Arcturus continued to shake like a leaf on the floor.
That was the half with a voice box if you pushed hard enough would say a few words in his father’s voice. It always only said ‘Arcturus, my prettiest star, Papa loves you.’ His voice was so warm and was mixed with the sound of his laughter and it used to make Arcturus giggle every time he heard it. At times, when it was dark enough at nights, he could pretend his father was actually there, saying those words to him before bed and for the longest time Arcturus wouldn’t fall asleep until he heard those words and said ‘I love you too Papa.’
Now it was all gone. His father’s voice, his father’s only gift for his son, the comfort Arcturus could only find in those few words every time he was punished or scared of the dark. Sirius too, soon became less of a real person in Arcturus’ mind and only existed as an after thought when Arcturus saw other kids with their parents.
Arcturus doesn’t remember much from that night in the 12 Grimmauld place besides the fact that somehow his wish was granted and the very next day when he was woken up, Walburga Black was dead and the smell of his own messy trousers had made him sick to his stomach. Kreacher didn’t tell him anything about what happened, just that Master Arcturus had hit his head and passed out and mistress Walburga had passed away sometime after that.
Kreacher repeated those words for anyone that demanded him to talk about what happened, not a single word more or less. Nothing made sense. When he woke up, he was in his bed and didn’t feel any pain at all and Walburga was found dead right by her son Sirius Black’s door.
Arcturus had left the 12 Grimmauld place a few hours after that, he was taken in by Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. His birthday wish was granted, he had run away from that house. Draco was the first person he saw when he was weeping on his bed with his legs tightly pulled to his chest.
‘I cry sometimes too.’ That was the first thing Draco had said to him after minutes of just awkwardly staring at him from where he stood in the doorway. He was chewing the insides of his cheeks and his bottom lip when Arcturus jumped in his place the moment he realized he was no longer alone. There he was, Draco Malfoy wearing tailored black trousers and a dark shade of green that made the small patterns on his knitted cardigan almost invisible from afar.
‘When the peacock in our manor bites me or when my dad yells at me.’
‘I’ll bite the peacock back for you.’ Arcturus heard himself say with his lips still curled downwards and through a tiny hiccup, he felt so brave in that moment for saying that.
‘Change your trousers first, or keep them on. No one, not even that stupid peacock will get near you with that smell.’
And just like that, with an embarrassed laugh and some sense of safety because of Draco in his room, Arcturus and Draco became each other’s best friend. In only a few weeks after Arcturus entered the Malfoy manor, the pair were inseparable, brothers. Draco was the only reason Arcturus didn’t run away from the manor and now from Hogwarts.
(Song: Lacrimosa – Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart)