-Lucas Jr.-
The train was loud louder than I expected. Whistles, owls, laughter, and the scraping of trunks over stone all mixed together in a chaotic symphony.
I adjusted the strap of my satchel and followed behind Damien, Lila, and Susan as we stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. Red and polished, the train practically radiated magic. I could feel it humming through the floor.
My brother walked like he owned the place already. Damien always had that way about him cocky. Lila and Susan trailed just behind, whispering about which compartment might be empty, while I just kept to the back.
We passed a few rooms packed with kids our age, and then Damien suddenly stopped, his hand on the sliding door of a compartment.
Inside, one girl sat alone. Dark red hair. Green eyes and a scar on her forehead. Could it be the girl named Rose Potter he thought remember his father telling Damien about something and that name came up.
"Mind if we join you?" Damien asked with a polite smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
There was a long second of silence before she gave a small nod. "Sure."
He stepped in first and took the seat next to her without hesitation. I entered after, letting Lila and Susan slide into the seat across from her. That left me with the corner fine by me. I sat down quietly, folding my arms as I glanced out the window.
Damien was already making light conversation, asking where she grew up, what she liked to read another shit father probably wanted Damien to seduce her to get a better claim on her lands.
-later-
The castle loomed above us like a sleeping giant. Towers scraping the misty sky, windows glowing like watchful eyes. Even after all the stories Father told us, Hogwarts still managed to impress.
We crossed the lake in boats like the first-years of every generation before us, the black waters reflecting the stars above. I sat with Susan, both of us silent as the boat glided across the surface. Damien was ahead, of course, his arm slung over the side like he owned the damn thing. Lila kept looking back toward Rose, who rode with another group of students behind us.
The castle gates creaked open as we were led inside. A stern witch her name was McGonagall, I think guided us through the winding halls until we stopped in front of the massive wooden doors of the Great Hall.
My heart thudded, not with nerves, but with… anticipation.
This was where it would begin.
McGonagall stepped in first. A moment later, the doors opened wide, revealing a hall that glowed with floating candles and four long tables filled with older students staring at us. At the front, on a raised platform, sat the professors and Headmaster Dumbledore, watching us.
The Sorting Hat sat on a stool, crumpled and still… until it began to sing. I didn't really listen. I was too busy reading the magical energy pulsing in the room.
One by one, names were called.
When they got to us, it was Damien first.
"Damien Black."
He walked like a king to the stool, sat, and placed the hat on his head.
The hat barely touched his scalp before it shouted.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Applause erupted from the green-and-silver table.
Next came Lila, then Susan, then finally me.
Each time, it was the same. The hat didn't hesitate.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Now it was my turn. When I sat down and felt the weight of the Sorting Hat settle onto my head, everything else faded. The Great Hall vanished. It was just me… and the voice in my mind.
"Ah… Lucas Black. No… not the first. The bastard son."
I stiffened.
"Yes, that wound runs deep. You try not to show it, but I see you. You think being born of a concubine makes you lesser… That because your name doesn't carry the same weight, you must earn it in blood, sweat, and silence."
I clenched my fists.
"But hear me well, boy what you are is only limited by what you refuse to claim. Your father never held back his ambition. He carved his name into the world without apology. If you desire to lead House Black one day… then own it. Let go of your restraints."
"Let the fire inside you burn hotter. Let your ambition flow. You have the mind, and the magical potential. Don't waste them shackled by doubt."
"SLYTHERIN!"
He made his way to the table, passing his siblings without looking, and took his seat next to them.
-later-
It had been a few weeks since the Sorting. Hogwarts was starting to feel familiar almost comfortable. But we weren't here to enjoy the term like everyone else.
Father's instructions had been clear find the object. He had given us only a description a tarnished old tiara, inlaid with a blue gem.
It was late when we moved. The others were already asleep, or pretending to be. We reached the wall across from the tapestry of the dancing trolls.
A room that holds what is lost. A room that holds what is hidden. A room that holds Ravenclaw's crown.
The door appeared.
The four of us stepped inside. Mountains of forgotten things stretched across the chamber. Old brooms, rotting books, stained cauldrons, even cracked portraits whispering half-sane words.
It was Lila who spotted the shimmer of silver high on one of the shelves.
"There," she whispered, eyes gleaming.
Damien nodded to me. "You go."
I didn't hesitate. Using the levitation pads we'd smuggled from Father's workshop, I scaled the pile, feeling the faint hum of magic as I neared the artifact.
The Diadem pulsed. I reached out my fingers tingling and touched it.
Pain lanced through my arm. A scream not mine, but something angry rattled in my skull.
And then it quieted.
Whatever voice had been within it was silenced for now.
I wrapped the tiara in a dark cloth enchanted to suppress magical signatures and descended back to the others.
"You okay?" Lila asked. "Fine," I said. "Let's get out of here." We left the room as quickly as we had come.
-later-
Winter break came fast.
The snow hadn't even melted off the train's roof before we were already stepping through the enchanted gates of the Black Estate.
We were barely through the wards when the summons came. A house-elf bowed low before us. "The Master requests your presence. Immediately."
We walked in silence, the four of us, down the long hallways toward Father's office. Damien was calm as always, hands in his pockets. Susan kept glancing at me from the corner of her eye. Lila's fingers brushed mine, grounding me. I needed it.
Because I still heard the Diadem whispering when I closed my eyes.
The office door creaked open before we could knock.
Our father, sat behind his obsidian desk, runes softly pulsing across the blackwood. He dressed in deep emerald robes lined with fur, his demidragon aura cloaked yet ever-present. Even seated, his presence suffocated the room.
We stepped inside.
No one spoke.
Finally, Father lifted his gaze from the tome he'd been reading. His purple eyes glowed faintly.
"You have it?" he asked.
Damien stepped forward and placed the wrapped Diadem onto the desk with both hands.
Then he stood.
His hand hovered over the cloth, and when he finally pulled it away, the artifact shimmered with dark light. The Diadem pulsed faintly, almost… afraid.
"Well done," he said finally, a rare flicker of pride in his voice.
-Lucas Black-
As my children left, I pulled out a caliper and quickly broke the amulet with my blade.
The amulet shattered like glass, its scream piercing the air like a banshee's cry.
Only two pieces remained.
Rose Potter the girl unknowingly carrying the last shard of the Dark Lord's fragmented soul.
And Voldemort's spiritual echo the wretched half-life he clung to, hiding somewhere in the world like a maggot in rotting flesh.
After those two were done, he was going to dip to the world. HP had gotten boring very quickly.
-Tom (Voldemort)-
It was agony. To exist like this.
My form was a wisp of malevolent smoke, my mind fractured yet aware driven only by hunger.
The unicorns feared me.
Their blood, silvery and pure, sustained this cursed existence. Every drop I drank was a sacrilege, but it kept the fading embers of my soul alight. A few more months, I told myself.
But then… I felt it.
Not magical beasts. Not centaurs. No, this was something far worse. A shadow, moving between the trees like a phantom.
Tall, cloaked, and wielding a blade that sang with mana so can dance it affected the area around us.
I tried to flee.
To vanish into the mist.
But it was too late.
The figure stepped through the gloom without a sound, lifting the great sword runes igniting across its black-metal surface and swung.
I felt it.
The blade tore through me, and I…screamed. As I felt my existence completely shattered.
-Lucas Black-
The wind howled as I stepped through the portal, the dark energies of the sword swirling around me, as I closed the rift behind me. The crackling remnants of the magic faded into nothingness, leaving only silence.
I was back.
The girl is the last one.
-Rose-
The train ride back home was quieter than she expected.
She stared out the window, her fingers absently tracing circles in the condensation on the glass as Hogwarts shrank behind her in the distance. The castle had been everything she'd dreamed of and more.
She'd learned how to cast spells. She had flown for the first time.
Rose smiled to herself, warm despite the cold glass against her cheek.
Even if she had to go back to them for the summer the Dursleys she had found a place to call home.
"I'll be back soon," she whispered to herself as the train began to slow. "Just a few months. Then I'll be home again."
She stepped out of the station, her old trunk dragging behind her and Hedwig's cage swaying gently in her grip. Uncle Vernon was nowhere to be seen. No surprise. Probably sulking behind the wheel of the car somewhere, upset about having to pick her up.
Still, she walked toward the usual spot head high, robes tucked into her coat, trying to hang onto the strength she'd built.
But then it hit her. Her legs buckled. The sounds of the station vanished, replaced by a dull hum. People passed by, unaware, as her vision tunneled into darkness. And then she fell.
-Lucas Black-
"Sorry, kid," I muttered under my breath, watching her unconscious form float gently in the stilled air of the alleyway.
The silver-violet threads of magic from my sword slowly unraveled from her chest, pulling with them the last remnant of that snake's fractured soul. I saw it twisted, clinging, desperate to survive. Tom's will refused to die quietly, but it didn't matter anymore. With a flick, I drew the blade down, and the fragment screamed as it was ripped free, burned to ash in a surge of Void Flame.
It was done.
I sheathed my sword, stepping forward to catch the girl before she slumped fully. Her breath was steady. Heart still beating. But her soul… her soul had been scraped raw. She'd carry echoes of this for the rest of her life, even if she never knew why.
"Sorry, Rose," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her brow. "I'll make it up to you someday."
XxX
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