Corvin Tripe
Sirius was in the library, almost 20 books spread out around him. There was a deep frown on his face and he looked extremely frustrated. Suddenly, the door opened and a house elf peaked her head inside.
“Sirius?”
The boy looked up and a look of surprise appeared on his face.
“Dixie? What are you doing here?”
The elf walked inside and closed the door behind her.
“Mistress sent me. She said that it’s best if I stay here with you while you are at home. So that nothing bad happens again.”
Sirius sighed.
“I’m very thankful, Dixie, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
The elf looked extremely bothered by that and Sirius waved her closer. She came to a stop right in front of him and he put a hand on her shoulder.
“Listen very carefully to me, Dixie. You are the bravest house elf I’ve ever met. I understand that your sense of duty tells you to protect me at any cost. But you are also my friend. And I could never forgive myself if you got hurt. So please, if anyone tries to hurt me, don’t interfere. Can you promise me that?”
The elf hesitated, before she nodded and grabbed his hand.
“I promise.”
Sirius hugged her briefly, before he sat back again and looked over the books. Dixie looked around too and frowned.
“What are you doing?”
The boy sighed deeply.
“Researching.”
Dixie picked up the book closest to her and her eyes widened considerably when she saw what he had been reading. Sirius glanced at her with worry.
“Dixie?”
She looked up at him.
“Can this stay a secret between the two of us?”
After a few seconds, the elf nodded, her big ears flopping up and down. Then she sat down on the floor next to him and tilted her head.
“Can I help?”
Sirius looked at her with curiosity.
“Do you know anything about dark animagi?”
Dixie nodded again.
“Yes. I have met one around 140 years ago. I worked for his family, before my Master bought me for my Mistress. He was the last one in his family.”
Sirius sat up straighter, his eyes burning with curiosity.
“What was he like?”
The elf shivered slightly.
“He… He was terrifying. His animagus was a black wolf. He changed the first time when he was twelve. The first few times were more painful than any other transformation existing. I’ve heard that the werewolf transformation is the closest to it. But then, after those times, he got better at it. But, just a few weeks later, the animal’s instincts took over his mind. He started to change. He killed people and animals that threatened him. Just like a wild animal would. He was horrible. He killed his parents and siblings. Then he slaughtered the entire village he lived in. I thought he would kill me, but he never did. I wanted to leave, but I was bound to him. He was 17 when he met a girl. The first time they were together in bed, his animal took over and he tried to hurt her. But she just put her hand on his forehead, and he changed back. After that, he stayed with her. I don’t know if he really loved her, but the animal was attached and he wouldn’t be able to leave even if he wanted to. With her help, he regained some control over himself. He stopped killing. He stopped the slaughters. The girl got pregnant and he wanted to protect her above everything. But, at that time, there were hunters who had seen the black wolf and were hunting him. He tried to escape, but they were closing in on him, so he killed them. And the blood thirst came back. He wanted to kill everyone. The beast had awoken again. He left his girl, not wanting to put her and the unborn child in danger. But, just two months later, he returned. He returned to a burned down house. Someone had murdered her. After that, he let go of his human side entirely. He started killing again. I was dragged along with him by my bond. I couldn’t leave. He looked terrible. His eyes were yellow, like a wolf’s. He didn’t laugh anymore. He howled. His nails got longer and fangs appeared. He didn’t even have to transform to be able to kill. He was 58 when the Ministry caught him. They put him in Azkaban, but he just starved himself until he was thin enough to slip through the bars. The dementors weren’t able to sense an animal, so they didn’t torture him. He swam back to shore and found me again. After that, he murdered all the people who got in his way, and made his way back to the forest where his wife had been killed. He stayed there, feeding on raw meat, for the next 30 years. Then he died, and I started searching for another family. I got taken by the Ministry and put in a elf house, where my Master found me and bought me.”
Sirius, who had paled considerably during the tale, now seemed to gather himself.
“Did his family abuse him?”
The elf nodded, a sad expression on her face.
“Yes. He was the youngest and they all hated him.”
Sirius took a deep breath.
“And the girl showed him kindness? And you did too?”
Once again, Dixie nodded.
“Yes. I did my best.”
Sirius smiled softly.
“I know you did. But that explains things. He killed the people who abused him or hurt his girlfriend. He was nice to people close to him. If I were to transform, I wouldn’t hurt my friends, even if I did go crazy.”
He moved a bit closer to her and lowered his head to be on her level.
“Dixie. How did he change? What did he do?”
The elf started to shake her head furiously.
“No. No. I won’t tell. I won’t tell!”
She rushed up and started to pull at her ears, but Sirius acted quickly. He grabbed her hands and brought them down to her sides.
“Dixie. Listen to me. I need to know. I’m going to do this, whether you tell me or not. But, if I do it alone, I might get hurt or even killed. I need your help.”
Very slowly, the elf calmed down and nodded.
“I… I can’t tell you. I swore not to. But I’ll write it down and leave it in your bedroom.”
He hugged the elf again.
“Thank you.”
She tried to smiled at him, but failed.
“I’ll go now.”
Sirius nodded, but then quickly grabbed her wrist.
“Wait a second. What was his name?”
Dixie hesitated, before she whispered:
“Tripe. His name was Corvin Tripe.”
And she apperated away before he could say anything else. Sirius sat still, staring into the empty space she had left behind, before he stood up and pulled a book out of the bookshelf. Then he walked out of the library and went down to the basement. He shivered slightly seeing the shackles, but then walked to the furthest corner and sat down. He dragged his wand over his arm and a deep wound appeared. The boy tensed up for a moment, before he slowly pulled his fingers through the wound. With a grimace on his face, he started to draw symbols on the floor with the blood. Seven symbols later, he waved a hand over the wound and it quickly turned to a thin red line. He put a hand on one of the symbols and started to talk in latin. A few seconds later, a white mist appeared. Slowly, it formed into a man with long claws and almost wolfish features. The man looked down at Sirius and frowned.
“What do you want, kid?”
There was almost a growl in his voice. When his mouth opened, fangs could be seen. Sirius stood up slowly and grinned at the ghost.
“I want to know about dark animagi. I want to know about how you became one. And how it feels.”
The man frowned.
“How do you even know about me?”
The boy shrugged.
“Is that even important? You are Corvin Tripe. You were a dark animagi. That’s all that matters to me. What you did is your business.”
Corvin smirked.
“You’ve got bite. I like that. What’s your name, kid?”
“Sirius. Sirius Black.”
The man seemed slightly surprised, before he nodded.
“Black. My sister, Magenta, married a Black. Before I killed her. Sadly, I heard that her kids survived. It’s a shame. Would have loved to wipe those out too.”
Then he looked around and Sirius noticed a slight shiver in his body when he noticed the shackles.
“I see the Blacks are as fond of torture as the Tripes were. Who did they keep here?”
“Me.”
That seemed to finally make the man really concentrate on Sirius.
“You? And you want to become a dark animagi? Seems like history likes to repeat itself.”
Sirius shook his head.
“No. I’m not going to kill my family, whatever they might have done to me.”
Corvin tilted his head.
“Then why would you wish something like that upon yourself?”
Sirius shrugged.
“Not your business. But, while we are at asking personal stuff, how did you get your sanity back?”
For a moment they just stared at each other, before Corvin nodded with appreciation.
“As I said, you’ve got a bite in you. I like it. I can appreciate not breaking in such a life.”
He sighed and leaned against the wall, somehow not phasing through it.
“When I died, the animal was somehow repressed. I regained my sanity. Or at least a part of it. Now, before this spell of yours wears off, ask away. What do you want to know?”
Sirius sat down on one of the benches and tilted his head.
“What did you do to become an animagi?”
“Honestly, I don’t remember so much. All I remember was pain. Pain beyond anything I’ve ever felt. And I’ve been through much. When the first transformation happens, you can’t hesitate. If you do that, if you hesitate for even one second, you’ll die. There is a spell you use. And you have to shed blood.”
Sirius’ eyes widened slightly.
“My own? Or someone else's?”
Corvin frowned.
“And does it matter?”
Sirius just glared at him for a few seconds. The man nodded slowly.
“Alright. Your own will be enough. But you need much. Almost enough to kill, so I don’t think it would be smart.”
“Have you ever met werewolves?”
Corvin looked at him with worry.
“Werewolves? Why would you ask about that?”
“Can you answer or not?”
The man nodded slowly.
“Yes. I met them. Vicious beasts. They were almost more hungry for raw meat than me. They attacked me a few times, but they didn’t try to kill me. Not when I was a wolf at least.”
Sirius stood up and took a step closer to him.
“And if they bite you while you’re the animal?”
Corvin sighed.
“What are you up to, kid? Those questions are oddly specific.”
Without a word, Sirius walked over to one of the symbols and put his hand over it. Corvin shook his head.
“Wait. If they bite you, it will hurt, but you won’t turn. They can’t turn an animal.”
Sirius nodded and pressed his hand down on another one of the symbols. Corvus’ ghost faded slowly and disappeared. Sirius took a deep breath, before he grabbed a bucket from one of the corners. He waved his hand and it filled up with water. Then he grabbed an old washcloth and started scrubbing the symbols away, a look of determination on his face.