Arcturus Black I
“Albus fucking Dumbledore, the bloody wanker makes even doxies seems nice” Remus swore as he took another shot of whiskey, some would call it a crime by the way dunked the content of such a prized bottle. Luckily, he was accompanied by two rich bastards who would see no problem with replacing manure with galleons if it weren’t for the fact that it would mean to get their hands dirty.
For the first time since graduation, Remus Lupin was properly sloshed. And it felt damn good.
“I think that’s quite enough mate” Sirius said with a concerned look on his face, reaching for the very fine bottle of Ogden that Remus had hogged ten minutes ago. It was the third bottle he’d opened this evening. Remus snatched bottle back, cradling it reverently. “Don’t you dare” his words were started to slur together. Sirius tried again to reach for the bottle, Remus answered with a growl. Ready to bite the hand next time.
The third person in the room laughed loudly at the display before taking a gulp from his own glass.
“Settle down lad, I’m sure the werewolf can handle his liqueur” the elder man said haughtily giving the werewolf in question a nod in respect. Sirius reluctantly backed away. Remus gave him a smirk, or at least he thinks he did. He then decided to forego the glass and take a swipe directly out of the bottle. He could hear a groan from his friend.
“Stupid fucking tosser” Remus grumbled before continuing to drink.
Arcturus Black grinned at his grandson’s dear friend. He hadn’t been too happy when he learned that Dorea’s grandson would be surrounded by a werewolf. He had ordered Sirius to send the beast away. His grandson had shown his Gryffindor spine by practically spitting in Arcturus face.
He had been forced to accept the werewolf’s presence when visiting young Harry and he had after a time learned to accept the creature’s presence. It seemed quite devoted to the heir of house Black.
It had been two months since his grandson was freed and he gained a great-grandson. It was comical how he and Dorea shared young Harry now. Like true Blacks. The older man had tried to convince Sirius of changing the child’s name, but he refused. Harry was named after his muggle grandfather and it was apparently disrespectful to go against the boy’s mudblood mother.
That was another thing that had made Arcturus a bit uneasy at first. The boy was a half-blood and the thought of having a half-blood leading the family made the old patriarch sick to his core. But his feelings had changed after he decided to test the child’s blood in a highly illegal ritual. It had come out pure. Harry James Potter-Black was a pureblood. That fact had cemented Arcturus interest in the child, young Harry would become Lord Black and he would make sure that he would become a better lord than Arcturus himself. He was no longer allowed to be alone with the child though, Sirius had thrown quite the fit when he walked in on the ritual. Arcturus could admit that it wouldn’t have ended well if the boy carried too much muggle blood. This kind of ritual would have killed a muggleborn and seriously damaged a half-blood.
But the ritual was successful, and he had a young pureblood heir now.
His own son Orion had failed his duty with Sirius and Regulus, he had not moulded them as he should have, and Arcturus had been a fool to think that his meek stain of a son would have been able to be anything but a disappointment. Regulus had lacked spine. He hid behind his mother’s skirt and was overall lacking. He was like Orion, unfit to lead. Sirius had instead been too much like his mother. He was headstrong and refused to bend, all good thing’s if they had been shaped correctly. He could have been a great lord but alas, his good daughter had broken any potential. Sirius had become a warrior and protector; he would never be a leader. Arcturus cursed the day he had let Pollux talk him into letting Orion marrying Walburga, he should have realised that his foolish son only wanted to hide between her teats.
No, Harry James would continue his line. He was truly Sirius son now and he was a Black as any other. James Potter had succeeded with at least one thing before he died, he had ensured the continuation of his line and Sirius had made the good decision of claiming the boy as his own.
The house of Black would reap the benefits.
The boy was a pureblood, the only thing left of his mudblood mother was his eyes and his name. Arcturus didn’t want to admit that the strength of the boy’s core could be because of Lily Evans. The thought that a mudblood could birth such a wizard was disturbing. He was grateful that her unchecked filthy magic hadn’t diluted the family magic encasing the boy. That was the biggest problem with half-bloods. Mudbloods destroyed magic that had otherwise been finely tuned for centuries, this was something that had not occurred in the boy. This was the reason behind why some half-bloods couldn’t claim their family magic and act as heirs. They simply lacked the family magic and centuries of breeding was lost.
Arcturus felt disgust at the way Sirius watched the werewolf, he had noticed quickly during his visits how his grandson would throw lingering looks at the creature. They seemed to have some kind of – distasteful – history, but the werewolf seemed set on ignoring his grandson’s advances. He would have felt indignant at the thought of such a filthy creature ignoring a son of house Black if it wasn’t so amusing. He no longer cared for Sirius extracurricular activities; he could defile himself all he wanted now. He had done his duty. House Black finally had a worthy heir again.
The lord Black took another sip of the fire whiskey. It had been quite the long day in wizengamot. They had tried Albus Dumbledore today. The old headmaster had almost gotten away scot-free. But he had in the end lost his position as Supreme Mugwump and Chief warlock for his actions that led to Sirius unlawful incarceration and the abuse of the heir of house Potter. Arcturus would have loved to bring the man down to his knees, but the headmaster had too much clout. He had lost much respect for his actions, but no one was ready to suffer the backlash of punishing the defeater of Grindelwald too much. Dumbledore would be allowed to keep his position as headmaster but would be forced to pay retribution to young Harry. It was quite a hefty sum but nothing special compared to the fortunes of house Black and Potter.
The werewolf was quite upset with how easily the old codger had dodged any further repercussions. And was seemingly on the mission of drinking himself to death. Arcturus wondered how many bottles it would take to achieve the welcomed death of the werewolf. While the lord had accepted the presence of one Remus Lupin, he couldn’t say that he would grieve his death. It would be nice to be able to visit without the stench of filth in the house. He would of course have to destroy the room the werewolf had been staying in. Arcturus wondered if he maybe could buy a house and convince the werewolf to move there? It would be much easier to burn the house afterwards than to sanitize a whole room.
The man grimaced when he realized that this whole house was contaminated.
This property was beyond saving. He wanted to curse his grandson; he would never have given access to such a distinguished property if he’d known about his paramour.
The werewolf swore some more, he had quite the vocabulary. Arcturus could admit that he was impressed by his tongue when inebriated. The wolf had some teeth after all.
“I believe I shall take my leave now. I will be back next week to check on Harry James. Don’t burn the house down” Arcturus said before standing up and turning to leave, he didn’t bother to wait for an answer.
He would be back in a week to check on his young heir, his very promising young heir. He would have to start looking for a tutor, the boy would be two years in a couple of months.
The perfect age to start moulding.
Things were looking up for the house of Black.