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All The Stars In The Sky	By : lemonsqueeze13 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 5427 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1: Hell Of A Life

I gained cognizance at age 6. My name is Ara Black.

Though, a lot of the time I end up referring to myself as the person I previously knew myself to be. Harry Potter. I only ever end up doing that in my head, and fortunately enough I’m doing that less and less recently. I guess it’s funny in a way, that my life as Harry wasn’t as long as it was, now that it’s helping me adjust to my new identity while I catch up to my previous age. I know I’m Ara now, but Harry’s memories will always be there.

There’s often nights I find myself reminiscing as to how I got here. How Harry ended up becoming Ara.

It had been a few years since Voldemort had died, I was 23 years old at the time. I had actually ended up moving in with Andromeda Tonks and my godson Teddy sometime around ‘99. Ginny and I had sort of drifted apart after the conclusion of the war. It just felt like the relationship was born out of desperation, like I was trying to find an anchor for myself in all the chaos at the time, and Ginny served that purpose. And when that desperation dissolved, so did the passion. Thankfully it all ended as well as could be hoped, considering it was a breakup afterall, unpleasant but it surely wasn’t terrible. I felt so anyway.

Andi was there for me and took me in after that, wasn’t exactly going to be comfy at the Burrow after breaking baby Weasley’s heart. It was a definite bonus that I got to dote on Teddy as much as I wanted, so definitely for the best.

Life went on after that. Neville, Ron, and I went through with the Auror training and subsequently worked at the DMLE. Hermione of course completed her final year alongside Ginny and Luna. Hermione ended up at the ministry, working at The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. S.P.E.W lived! Ginny got a contract with the Holyhead Harpies, and Luna was working under some Scamander bloke for her Magizoology mastery.

In my capacity as an Auror I’d even kept tabs on the Malfoys, for obvious reasons. Although over time, I’d done my best to get along with Narcissa, she and Andi had reconciled so she was around fairly often. It’s wasn’t easy being civil with one of the most bigoted and venomous people I knew, but she did spare my life and I vouched for her family, sparing them Azkaban, so we made it work. Draco was doing better as well. We spoke some after the war. I won’t say we were ever friends, but I did end up understanding his position somewhat better. His choices were never the smartest or ever took in mind my personal well being, but they were always done with his family in mind. I couldn’t begrudge him for that too much. Still an arsehole though. I never spoke of or to Lucius. I always have and will despise the man. He should just be thankful he was alive, a dementorless Azkaban was more than he deserved.

It was April 2003 when I’d lost everything all over again. Andi, Hermione, Ron, Teddy, and I were out that day in celebration of Teddy’s fifth birthday. We’d just spent a brilliant day at Canary Wharf, and were on our way to the war memorial at the ministry to show Teddy Remus and Nymphadora. At this point in my life, I had grown very very accustomed to being in a caring and loving environment, surrounded with the few people in the world who I could sincerely consider more precious than life to me you see. So their loss absolutely destroyed me.

I still remember describing how I felt following Sirius’ and Dora’s passing. I felt much the same with Dobby’s and Hedwig’s death too. Physical, and never-ending pain, like a constant festering wound. The agony I felt at the death of those four… Well let's just say I would have considered being back in that graveyard under Tom’s Cruciatus a welcome reprieve from the suffering I went through.

One of Riddle’s last surviving sycophants chose the fifth anniversary of the end of the war for his tribute. It was just coincidence that he decided the memorial was the best location, and it was just blind luck that the “Chosen One” ended up being there with his family. So one massive explosion later, I woke up in St. Mungo's barely hanging on to my life. My family wasn’t so lucky. That day I truly lost the four people who meant everything to me. And with them fled any will I had left to live.

My family wasn’t perfect by any means, but they were mine and I loved them. My own guiding light in a vast darkness. Ron and Hermione still fought over the littlest of things, but they loved each other and they loved me. And that was enough for me. Teddy always served as a reminder of the people who never made it out of the last war, Moony and Tonks especially, but for all intents and purposes he was my son and I was his father. And we showed each other that sentiment every single day. And Andi was always stern with me, she never approved of how I indulged myself a little when it came to the fairer sex or lost myself to my work, despite the fact that it was my coping mechanism. But she was my pillar of strength, my shoulder to cry on, and my very first family member who looked after me.

I...just lost it.

I don’t remember much of what I had done following the last rites. I was pretty much in a drunken stupor for the next few days. I’m sure every bar in Diagon Alley had to replenish their stores after I’d graced them with my presence. My last clear memory before my death was standing there in front of that cursed arch that took Sirius.

I remembered the conversation I had with Luna when were still in Hogwarts, about the voices beyond the veil. About the loved ones who left us, just there, just a step forward and I’d be reunited with them. That’s all that was going through my head.

So I stepped through the Veil of Death. Ending the saga of Harry Potter. A pathetic life if there ever was in my opinion. Except maybe Sirius or Peter, now that I think about it. From the little he told me himself, and the blanks later filled in by Andi, his life was seriously tragic. And Peter, well, he was just a miserable sod whose end was caused by his own hand - literally.

I was expecting the same sort of scene that I experienced the first time I died, but rather than Dumbledore, the people who I actually wanted to meet waiting for me instead. What I actually got was something similar to the browned, damp pages of an old book somewhere, and I came out looking like a silhouette of myself. I was alone and confused until another silhouette creeped up on me. Almost looked like a skinny version of Hagrid draping a large black sheet over himself. Turns out, it was Death.

“Welcome O’ Great and Powerful Master of Death” That was the first thing it said to me.

You expect a lot from the avatar of death, a sarky little shite of an attitude wasn’t one of those. It took a while to get a handle on the situation, what eventually came out was that me being the last person in contact with all three hallows somehow made me the master of death. Even better, as a result of said status I was not allowed to die till such time that someone else gained ownership of all three. So the decision Death had made was to simply spit me back out of the veil, when and where I came in from.

That was not acceptable to me.

A bit of bargaining and a lot of arguing later we came to an understanding. In exchange for me forfeiting the three hallows to Death, he would permit me another chance at life and I would also be allowed to die properly the next time. Only catch, I wasn’t reliving my own life as Harry, I would be born to a family that was originally meant to be culled by Voldemort much earlier on. He couldn’t send me back to my original time because apparently the whole living horcrux thing fucks his ability to interfere up. I agreed with the stipulation that whatever horcruxes he had created up until the moment I was being reborn would be made redundant. I was not about to go through that scavenger hunt again. And If Death almighty can’t take fractured pieces of some megalomaniacs soul, what would honestly be the point of him.

I’ll admit at the time I almost didn’t take the offer. It really wasn’t an ideal choice for me, I just wanted to be done with it all. But the revelation that I could prevent the deaths of so many I cherished, and even the chance to hopefully make a better environment for everyone down the line. It would have been even more selfish of me to give up the deal than taking it was. And in that instance, that relentless pain that followed me everywhere lifted. Poof up and gone, just like - well magic. Seems a little convenient to be sure, but I’ll just have to live with it. The knowledge that I’ll be there to make sure that no one I love will suffer as long as I do my job properly relieves more than a fair bit of the weight on my conscience. I’m sure Death did their part in ensuring my transition was as seamless as possible too. Can’t exactly have an alcoholic toddler with a penchant for suicidal behaviour running around. I’m sure that would’ve been more than a little odd.

So here I am, born Ara Black, July 31st 1955. Son of Dorea Black and Charlus Potter - who would’ve been my father had he not been dead before my birth. I wonder if I’ll have both parents the third time around. Anyway, as a result of her husband’s passing my mother was taken back in by the Black family head - her brother Arcturus Black, and I was named as Black instead of Potter. It was no big deal to the Potters either way. Charlus’ elder brother Fleamont and his wife Euphemia Potter are still alive, well, and relatively young - for wizards anyway. So my original grandparents still had my original father.

I still look much the same as I did previously, same green eyes, same messy hair - if a little darker in shade. I do have sharper features now though, resembling my mother Dorea a fair bit, squarer jaw, higher cheeks and such. Best part though, I’m actually being fed properly, so I’m hopeful that I’ll be taller than I was; also no more specs. I was never really fond of being challenged in the height and sight department.

I was a little apprehensive initially, when I found out who my direct family was. I was wary of being treated like Sirius was. I needn’t have worried though, sifting through my memories of Ara’s life before age six, I realized just how beautiful a person Dorea is. I am so absolutely adored by my mum, it really baffles me sometimes. And I can wholeheartedly say I feel just the same about her. Unconditional love. Is this how all children with loving parents grow up? Because if it is, I think I finally understand the concept of a mama’s boy. And over time we’ve only grown closer. It’s honestly a little overwhelming, I find myself smiling so much in her presence. I love my mother.

It’s not always strawberries and cream though. Being the eldest born son in the Black household, there are more than a few expectations I have an obligation to rise to. I was taught our history and values, how to walk, how to talk and to whom, how to eat, how to dance, and all the rest. Just all this pureblood etiquette and knowledge I generally considered nonsense was hammered into me from day one. Really rather tedious, but whenever I saw the pride and love in mother’s eyes, those tender hugs, the way she gently tousles my hair, always with that beautiful smile on her face; it gave me immense motivation to achieve and exceed regardless of my own personal views on the subject.

Judge me if you so wish, but waking up swaddled in Dorea’s warm embrace when I was younger have been some of the best memories I’ve had in any life. Dorea is someone I will never be able to dissapoint. It also helped that she wasn’t a typical Black parent, I really dodged spellfire not being born to Sirius or Andromeda’s parents. So growing up I did my absolute best to live up to her expectations. And despite the fact that she is an affectionate woman, she is still a Black. And as such there's a lot I’m required to live up to - which I’ve somehow managed to surpass thus far.

This, unsurprisingly, has caused a fair bit of internal strife for the family though. Uncle Arcturus - Head Black - is not overly fond of either of his sons. Orion he simply considers Walburga’s whipping boy, and there was no way he was about to leave the family in the claws of that screeching harpy - his words not mine. Then there’s Cygnus, who in the old man’s opinion is far too enamored by his own reflection. Arcturus confided in me that he was worried Cygnus had been switched at birth with a Malfoy. And given what I knew of Lucius’ vanity, I suspect that his biological father very well could’ve been Cygnus. And while Druella is a lovely enough lady, she’s a tad too submissive to be an effective leader and more importantly she was not born a Black.

Now given my stellar performance and slightly tighter grip on sanity than the others, Arcturus tended to fuss over me a bit. The tension all came to a head on my tenth birthday where, as per tradition, my magical power was measured. Turns out, Harry’s magical strength was transferred over to the new me. Harry’s fully matured, and auror trained magical strength in a developing ten year old boy. Arcturus had a right good laugh that day.

I was named Heir Black. Friction, of course, followed. Walburga was not pleased in the least, especially since there is nothing she can do to reverse the decision. But it took a lot off of little Sirius’s shoulders so I didn’t really mind. And the less I say about Orion and Cygnus the better, poor confused blighters. Reminded me a lot of Dudley’s expression when Petunia told him he was going on a diet. Completely heartbroken he was. Mum had one of the largest smiles ever, so great day all around.

Surprisingly enough, growing up at Grimmauld Place is a genuinely decent experience. Sure there's duties and a little family drama, but we were all allowed to be children. I’m pretty sure it had a lot to do with the fact that so much of the family’s attention was focused on me, that the rest were able to just be themselves without too much fear of repercussion. Making it a much more pleasant environment for all involved. Plus I’d never need to fear any reprisal either, even discounting the fact that I could take care of myself, mum and Arcturus would be livid had anything ever happened to me in our own home. Dorea’s presence also served to be a boon for the rest of the cousins.

Walburga and Orion were never the most attentive parents, choosing to instead focus on each other. If I wasn’t already familiar with what Walburga sounds like when she’s riled up, from her portrait, I’d be terrified of the noises that come from their wing of the house. Now I just get sick. Cygnus and Druella aren’t even around that much, being the consummate socialites that they are. So it more often than not fell to my mum to raise all six of us.

Bellatrix is two years older than me, and therefore the eldest sibling. A role which she took to with utter seriousness. I honestly thought I’d have the hardest time staying neutral towards her, more so than anyone else. Strangely though, we found ourselves gravitating towards each other quite a bit over the course of our childhood. She is bossy, overbearing, and often condescending. While at the same time exceptionally capable, due, in part to her frightening intelligence and hardworking nature, and she’s fiercely loyal and protective to those she considers her own.

I had a tough time understanding my draw to Bellatrix, it took me until she started reaching her teenage years to figure it out and it really caught me on the back foot. Bellatrix reminded me of Hermione. Yes Bellatrix had a greater respect for power, where Hermione valued authority. Yes Bellatrix has a terrible sadistic streak, with that very particular tilt of Black family madness. But underneath all that, they both are fundamentally so incredibly alike, I couldn’t help but pick up on it subconsciously and treat Bellatrix with the same affection I’ve always had for Hermione. She must have sensed this and ended up reciprocating. Hell, by then it had also become blaringly obvious to me that a young Bellatrix posed more than a passing resemblance to my Hermione.

Things between us changed after my tenth birthday though. Suddenly instead of my pushy cousin, I somehow gained a staunch ally and supporter. Here is where I also realized why Bellatrix was so devoted to Voldemort, she is deeply attracted to magical power and status. Something which I found out intimately back in my fourth year at Hogwarts. I was practically robbed of my honour after a particularly gruelling dueling session. When I did point out to her that we are in fact related by blood, her response was simply:

“You are my grandfather’s sister’s son, we are barely third cousins. That’s what we purebloods like to call marriage material. Now pull down your pants before I rip them off.” Murky waters I know, but I certainly didn’t complain.

Plus I’d always held a bit of a torch for Hermione, and in a way this helped live out that fantasy. Mercifully, Bella has been discreet with our arrangement, so I’m hopeful no one will ever find out. Except for Andromeda of course, I don’t hide things from her.

We were born the same year, grew up in the same house, and I had all my memories of her. So needless to say, we got along like Umbridge and bigotry, which is to say very well. Andi was surprisingly perky growing up, I mean sure she had her strict moments. Almost always when I was involved in something she deemed stupid, although I think at least half my scoldings come about because I’m just not up to her standards of cleaning up after myself. Aside from that she was just all around cheerful, and equal parts caring. It was clear where Nymphadora got it from, Ted Tonks was far too relaxed a bloke to influence her that way. A proper wild child this one.

Andromeda and I are best friends and confidants, she’s also usually the one who patches me up after I go overboard with the training. While I’m usually the one patching her up after her doomed romances, Andi really wears her heart on her sleeve. She, just like Dorea, holds a very special place in my heart.

Speaking of special, how could I possibly forget about Sirius. My new little brother. He seems to take it as a personal challenge to prove to us that he is in fact touched in the head, lest we forget. He doesn’t really involve himself too much with the adults outside of Dorea, but he does enjoy taking his liberties with the rest of the cousins. The guy named Sirius ends up being the family comic relief, ironic isn’t it? Honestly though, he can be a bit of a brat with his tendency to misbehave. He never seems to understand the appropriateness of some of his pranks and usually ends up on the wrong side of a shouting courtesy of the women in his general vicinity. But anytime I see that sweet little smile or that cheshire grin blossom on his face, I’m there right alongside him.

Sirius’ happiness more so than anyone else’s reminds me of why I came back. It never fails to brighten my day being on the receiving end of hug from the rascal. And it means so much to me that I can be that source of love and hope for Sirius, just the same as my estranged Godfather was for Harry, when he was a tired thirteen year old boy.

Next up is Narcissa, who falls in the same age bracket as Sirius. I’ve turned her into something of a pet project for myself, by doing my best to curb her parents’ over eager influence on her. Being the youngest girl as well as a cute little thing with a propensity to please the expectations following her a little too much, it was easy to see why she ended up the way she did the first time around. Narcissa is the type to stuff her face with whatever shit is shoved on her plate as long as the person shoveling it is someone she admires. So I’ve strived to ensure that my mother is the one holding the shovel in this scenario. It's been working fairly well so far so fingers crossed she doesn't turn into that vile excuse for a woman she was in Harry’s time. She's family now so I’ll make sure of that at least.

And last but certainly not least is the baby of the house. Regulus. My god that kid is just a little bundle of adorable. He’s also extremely attached to Sirius. I'm almost a decade older than the kid so my experience with him is a little limited, but he seems like a happy little chap so I’ll do my best to keep him that way.

Having a family is nice and all, but I haven't forgotten why I came back in the first place. I'm here to kill voldemort, take as much steam out of his movement as possible, and bag a few death eaters in the process. Especially that bugger who blew himself up.

So with that in mind I began my training pretty much immediately after I realized who I was.

My benchmark for my magical prowess has always been that battle in the ministry between Dumbledore and Tom. That level of skill, power, and knowledge is not something you easily forget. Riddle is evil and all, but the guy literally breathed out Fiendfyre and Albus just smacked it back like it was nothing. And I was meant to compete with these monsters!

Don’t get me wrong Harry was strong and skilled in my own right, but as chagrined as I am to admit it I hadn’t reached that level at the time of my death. And despite that, I was essentially the strongest guy left in Britain once both of them died. But even after all my training as an auror and experience in the whole fight for my life career growing up as Harry, I could safely say that aside from magical power I never reached their level.

I can afford the excuse that both of them had decades and decades on me but I never had that luxury as Harry, and I won't be getting it as Ara either, considering the fact that I've been chucked to right around the time Voldemort is on his first rise. So suffice it so say I've been rigorous in training myself back up and beyond that.

I learned loads about magic and myself as an auror. Defence being my specialty I was formidable in a fight, and with my experience with sneaking about throughout Harry’s life my stealth was more than up to snuff. As a consequence both my charms and transfiguration were way past adequate. Astonishingly Care of Magical Creatures was also invaluable. You won't believe the number of idiots who try to keep 4X and up beasts as house pets or guards. It’s funny once you realize that Hagrid's behaviour was actually the norm and not the exception when it came to wizards and magical beasts.

I have a good amount of experience with healing magic as well, it’s essential to know once you start doing the more dangerous assignments and it is a seriously difficult branch of magic to learn. I will never complain about getting healed or Madame Pomfrey’s methods ever again, well at least when she's within earshot. Potions are also pretty helpful here, but really not my cup of tea so I was pretty useless with forensics and high level healing. I usually left that to Harry’s partner Daphne Greengrass. Not much to say about her to be honest, I enjoyed her company fairly often but we never went further, she reminded me of a Fleur Delacour that never grew up. A haughty hottie. Just in case you were wondering.

One branch of magic that Harry had to play some serious catch up with was arithmancy. Required extensively for magical crime forensics and ward breaching. So grew pretty adept with that too.

Now generally most magic requires a wand, and given that at the time I was 6 I didn't exactly have access to one. And for all the insanity the Black's are usually credited with, even we know better than to leave a wand lying around in a house full of children. So therein lay my dilemma, I had a need to practice magic, I had a decent level of knowledge to practice with, yet no readily available way to actually do so. Enter wandless magical control.

I had never had the time to train myself in wandless magic as Harry, and time is key because it takes a disgusting amount of time and effort to even get the simplest of charms to work. It took me four months just to get a simple lumos going, so that's how I started, working on the most simple spells - lumos, wingardium leviosa, incendio - were the first I had any success with. Mercifully though, I found that the more I went wandless the easier it got. I quickly moved on to the more useful spells, expelliarmus, depulso and accio, protego, fumos, episkey, confringo, and the disillusionment charm, along with apparition - basically everything I considered essential for a survival and useful in a fight. I didn’t bother with anything too complicated, I decided to leave all that for hogwarts.

Speaking wandless magic, I didn’t forget about either occlumency or legilimency. I had never, and more than likely will never master occlumency, I’m probably a little too influenced by my emotions and easily read to be effective at hiding my thoughts. Legilimency on the other hand I’m more than good at, Snape and Voldemort gave Harry more than enough practice using that. I didn’t really need to practice either, consequence of remembering who I was. Surprisingly I retained my parselmouth abilities, thought for sure that I would’ve lost it after getting the horcrux removed. Guess not.

The reason wandless control required the effort it did was two fold. The first is that it requires you to become intimately aware of your magic core - which is basically this reservoir where your magic is stored and accessed from. It’s also where your magical power is measured from, I think it depends on the amount of magic you have as well as how potent or dense it is.

Forgive me for going on a tangent, but your core is also the reason accidental magic happens when you’re young. The core of magical mass slowly fuses with a magical’s nervous system, so it sometimes has misfires as the nerves get irritated, this also explains why magic is intent based, when you really put full purpose behind a spell the magic sort of reads your mind through your nervous system and responds. What this means is that the more magic you use naturally, the better it syncs to your body. Kind of like a muscle, I’m practicing wandlessly, my magic power is growing and integrating more with me, magic becomes easier and stronger. And that's also the second reason, you’ve got to really, really train yourself hard to get any benefits from wandless magic.

So there Ara was by the age of nine, basically as capable as Harry was at age 22, all without a wand as well. I wasn’t sure whether I was amazed at my new self, or ashamed of my past self. Also, up until this point I had managed to keep all this to myself. Nobody minus Kreacher had any idea of what I could I do; Kreacher because he was the one who would pop me out to the Forest of Dean where I’d chosen to workout, and cover for my absences with everyone else at home. I was planning on keeping the status quo, but a lapse in my judgement forced my hand.

It was mum’s birthday and I wanted to do something special for her, so after the day’s festivities were over I’d pulled her over to my room and quietly given her my idea for a gift. I wandlessly conjured a silver brooch inlaid with tiny emeralds in front of her. It was a honeysuckle flower intertwined at the base with a lily of the valley. Mum was very fond of floriography, and I knew instantly she understood what I was saying to her. The brooch professed my love and devotion for her and a promise to return all the happiness she has ever given me. It was one of the only times I was happy to have made her cry, I don’t think she’s taken it off since.

Yes, very nice sentimental moment and all, but stupidly I never bothered to close the door all the way in my excitement. And never forget in the House of Black, there is no surface without eyes or ears. Just my luck that grandmother Melania was curious and decided to snoop. Oh, she didn’t cause a scene or anything, but I knew I’d been sniffed out when I was called into her parlour the very next day with a worried looking Kreacher wringing his pillow case next to her and grandfather Arcturus’ seat. Elves had to follow the hierarchy after all, no secrets can be kept from the head of house.

At the time I was bloody worried, and not a little paranoid that they’d somehow figure out I was a time travelling Potter who struck a deal with death. Turns out they were just impressed with me and wanted to help get a jump start on my education - otherwise known as the rational response for this scenario. Don’t judge me, the guy who trained Harry in the auror offices was one of Moody’s ex-proteges. Anyway, I was given a wand and full access to the Black family library, dark curses and all.

Grandma Melania herself crafted my wand for me, turns out she’d made everyone’s wands after she’d married into the family. 1334inches, Larchwood with Wampus hair core. A wand for those with high power and control, apparently a very desirable and just as rare wood, that will only respond to those it deems worthy and with rare talents - so basically if you’re strong you got it’s power and loyalty. It has the added advantage that it’s one of the few woods out there that can handle as much power as you can put out. The wampus hair core showed that I have the heart of a warrior and would excel with battle magic, which just so happens to be a specialty of the Black family. Arcturus probably soiled himself in excitement. But I’ve got to give it to grandmother Melania, the wand fit me better than even Harry’s old one. The wand really sped up my training regimen, and I sped through the library looking for the most exciting spells. I’m a Black now - there has to be a certain level of showmanship in my wandwork for it to be deemed acceptable.

I picked up a few favourites: a variation on incarcerous that uses chains and shackles instead of rope - called captivatus - harder to break and much more painful. Perfringo the bone shatter curse, amputo the amputation curse, both very useful for taking your opponent out of a fight. Degravo brings down overwhelming pressure on top of an area, and consumo the devouring curse, which basically eats away at anything in the vicinity, both meant to fight off overwhelming numbers. I even managed to learn a couple of Riddle’s favourite spells, first was the lightning bolt spell fulmen, and more importantly I found notes on how to achieve magical flight - no brooms required. It’s unfinished, but Riddle managed it so I shall as well. I still haven’t, but believe me, I will.

Now since Arcturus knew what magic I excelled at, he was quick in inserting himself as my dueling partner. He also very quickly found out how outmatched he was becoming and decided to call in the entire family to help out. Unsurprisingly all the older Blacks were very good fighters, and what they lacked in skill they more than made up in ruthlessness - Walburga especially did her damndest to try and turn me into a puddle of oozing flesh. Hey, had to practice my new knowledge somehow.

Eventually everyone, children included, got in on the fun. Attempting to kill each other in a duel officially became a Black family bonding exercise. And there was always a tasty meal afterwards. The constant fighting and the auror level physical training I encouraged everyone to go through really bulked us up. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that by the time any of the Black children started Hogwarts, they’d be able to take on low level aurors or death eaters in a straight up fight.

Now that I’ve mentioned Hogwarts, that’s where I am right now. It's September 1st 1970 and I’ve just begun my 5th year here. I’m sat next to the Andi and the rest of my housemates at the Slytherin table. Yeah, Slytherin this time around, decided to listen to the Hat, plus it’s the best place for me to be considering what I’ve got to accomplish but we’ll come back to that afterwards. I actually better start paying attention to the sorting before I piss someone off - namely Bella.

“Ouch!” I got pinched, guess Andi got to me first.

“Pay attention Ara, It’s almost Cissy’s turn. Bella’s cross enough with you as it is, hurry up and pull your head from between your cheeks before she decides to actually stuff it down there, and I promise I won’t be the one fixing that for you.” Ah. Seems I’ve received a scolding because I decided to fill you in on the story so far. Hold on, let me address this.

“You shall not speak to me this way Andromeda, I am your head of house. Hold your tongue before I pull it out.” There, that’ll set her straight.

“Oh shove it Ara.” There we go, she’s back to smiling now. Alright, I actually better take notice now. I’ll fill you in on the rest later.

“Black, Narcissa!”
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All The Stars In The Sky