My · Life

Idea Number 5: Orion Black lives longer than in canon.

Summary: Godparenting is different in the wizarding world. A spell is cast to make the godparents actual parents of their godchildren just in case something happens to the real parents. When Harry is orphaned and Sirius jailed, Orion Black, Sirius’s father, takes Harry in. He grows up with Papa and is raised as a proper pureblood and savior. He is renamed a proper pureblood wizarding name: Castor Orion Nigellus Black.

Starts Durmstrang at age ten. Takes equivalent of O.W.L.s at age fourteen. Starts apprenticeship at age 16 for four years. Graduates at 20 once apprenticeship is over. Krum is five years older. Fourth floor of Durmstrang is offices. Third floor is bedrooms and common rooms. Second floor is dining hall, library, study areas, etc. First floor is classrooms. Grounds hold stables, Quidditch pitch, greenhouses, and gardens.

Orion Black looked down at his grandson who was sleeping in his cot. “Now I can raise you to be a proper Black. Something my sons never were. Your godfather, Sirius, he was rebellious, a regular little blood traitor, he was. He went and got himself jailed, just like I knew he would. And Regulus, he was weak. He had to rely on the power of a halfblood wizard to get him power and then he went and got scared and ran away. I’m glad they killed him. Weak wizards don’t deserve to live. But you won’t be weak, will you, my boy? No, I will raise you how you should be raised. You will be a proper pureblood, only making friends with other proper purebloods. Now, sleep, child. In the morning I will begin to teach you. You may not be even two yet, but it is never too early to start learning.” The man left the room, already mentally planning the boy’s future. The boy, a lightning bolt shaped scar on his brow, slept on. Not knowing that he would be raised to hate anything not pure. Not knowing he would have knowledge most purebloods chose not to teach their families. Not knowing that his real parents had hated the pureblood ways. He slept.

~*~

Four-year-old Castor Orion Nigellus Black sat in his chair with perfect posture. His bright green eyes studied the tapestry in front of him. “Papa?” his childish voice said as he turned to the stern man who was sitting in an armchair watching the boy. “Why are some names burned off?”

“Because, my boy,” his Papa answered. “Some family members did bad things that brought shame on the family.” The man stood and came over to the boy’s side. He pointed at a burn mark. “That was Isla Black. She was burned off because she married a Muggle.”

Castor’s eyes widened. “A Muggle, Papa? Why did she want to marry something so dirty and disgusting?”

“I do not know,” Orion said. “The mind is very complicated.” He pointed to another burn mark. “That was Phineas Black. He supported Muggle rights.”

“But Papa,” Castor interrupted. “Muggles are animals aren’t they? What kind of rights do animals have?”

“None,” Orion said shortly. “I am very proud of you, my boy. Some wizards, like the blood-traitor Weasleys, think that Muggles are humans just like us. But you know better, don’t you?”

“Yes, Papa,” Castor said. He stood up and began to recite the lesson he had learned since he was very small. “Muggles are animals. They have no magic. Wizards are superior. We have magic. Magic is what gives us power. Muggles have no power. They have no magic. Muggles are weak. Weakness is inferior. I am not inferior. I am a Black. I know that there is no good and evil, only power, and those too weak to see it.” The four-year-old did not stumble over any of the words. He had been trained in diction since he started speaking.

Orion smiled at his grandson. “Very good, Castor. Very, very good.” He patted the boy on the head and handed him a chocolate frog. “You did well today, son. That deserves a reward.”

Castor took the frog and smiled happily up at his grandfather. “Thank you, Papa.”

“Run along now and play,” Orion instructed. The small boy obediently ran off to his nursery where all his toys were kept.

~*~

Six-year-old Castor stood next to his Papa, his posture perfect and his robes immaculate. Today a boy would be coming over, a proper pureblood boy by the name of Draco Malfoy. The two boys were to play together and if they got along, Castor would be starting lessons with Draco come September if a proper tutor was found.

The flames turned green and a small boy with white-blond hair stepped out. He brushed soot off of his robes and looked around, his eyes falling on Orion Black and Castor. He bowed slightly and said in a childish, but haughty voice, “Master Black, I am Draco Lucius Abraxas Cygnus Pollux Malfoy.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Little Malfoy,” Orion said, staring down at the heir to the Malfoy fortune. “May I introduce my grandson, Castor Orion Nigellus Black.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Black,” Draco said, bowing slightly to Castor.

Castor eyed the Malfoy boy and replied, “Likewise, Mr. Malfoy. Shall we adjourn to my nursery?”

“All right,” Malfoy said.

The two boys made their way quietly up the stairs and to the nursery. The nursery was a spacious room on the first floor. One half of the room held Castor’s bed, nightstand, dresser, and wardrobe. The other half held a toy box, a bookshelf filled with books, a child-sized table and chairs, and a desk. The boys sat down at the table and chairs and Castor called Kreacher for tea.

“Do you have a house-elf?” asked Castor curiously.

“Yes, we do,” Draco said haughtily. “Its name is Dobby and it is a young one. Yours seems practically ancient.”

“Kreacher is still a fine servant,” Castor said severely. “And you’ll not talk about my servant like that.”

“Who are you to order me around?” Draco cried, standing up and glaring at Castor. “Don’t you know who you’re speaking to? I am a Malfoy!”

“And I,” Castor said also standing, “am a Black. The Blacks have been around for seven centuries. The Malfoys have only been around for four. I have every right to order you around as my blood is superior to yours.”

Draco stared at the little Black in shock. No one his age had ever told him off before. They had all just cowered and obeyed him, not wanting the Malfoy heir to have one of his famous tantrums.

“But, but,” the little Malfoy was grasping at straws. “My mother was a Black!”

“She is now a Malfoy.” Castor said calmly. “Her Black blood is no longer thought of. She is a Malfoy now.”

Draco continued to stare at his cousin. He didn’t know how to respond to that so he did what he always did when he was confused or upset or not getting his way. He opened his mouth wide and screamed loudly. His face turned a splotchy red and tears started rolling from his eyes. He continued to howl even as Castor ran from the room to get his grandfather.

Orion Malfoy entered the nursery and looked at the Malfoy heir with a sneer. He tossed the boy over his shoulder and went downstairs to the Floo. Dumping the screaming, kicking Malfoy on the floor, the man tossed Floo Powder into the fireplace and placed his head in, calling out “Malfoy Manor!”

“Master Black,” Lucius said as said man’s head appeared in the flames. He hurried over to the fireplace and knelt down. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes, something is wrong,” Orion snapped. “Your brat of a son is currently having a tantrum on my parlor floor. I want someone sent to collect him and I want you to thoroughly discipline the brat. He is a disgrace to the Malfoy name, Lucius, and if you want your name to remain respected, then either get another heir or get some manners into this one!”

“Oh, of course, sir,” Lucius said. “I will send the house-elf right away to retrieve him. And don’t worry, sir, he will receive a sound spanking when he comes home. I am very sorry that you had to witness his appalling behavior and I promise that it will never happen again.”

Orion nodded. “Good, it had better not. And you ought to make him study the different purebloods more, Malfoy. The reason he threw this fit, according to my grandson, is because he refused to accept that Castor was of a purer line than his and needed to show Castor respect and obey him.”

Lucius frowned. “Of course, of course, sir, I’ll make him study the lineage book for two hours a day now instead of just one. Again, I apologize for his behavior. You and Castor will be receiving a formal apology from Draco later in the week. I will go inform the house-elf to go get the boy. Thank you for telling me; I will see to it that he is punished and that he learns to respect the pureblood way.”

Orion drew his head out of the fire, satisfied that the Malfoy boy would be dealt with. A house-elf wide huge green eyes and a pillowcase appeared, bowed low to the Head of the Black Family, and disappeared again taking the screaming Malfoy with it.

Draco Malfoy stared at his shoes. Orion and Castor Black were standing in front of him and his father was next to him. “Draco has something to say to you.” Lucius Malfoy informed the Blacks. “Don’t you, Draco?”

“I am very sorry for my behavior at your home the other day. It was very rude of me and I now know better. I also apologize for not respecting my betters. That was also rude of me and I humbly apologize.” Draco recited his apology, his head bowed in submission.

“How were you disciplined?” Orion asked.

“Father spanked me,” Draco explained, blushing slightly at the memory, “ten times with switch.”

“And you learned your lesson from that punishment?”

“Yes, sir, Master Black,” Draco said earnestly. He had learned all right. He had learned that if he was going to embarrass the family name, he wouldn’t be able to sit for a day afterward.

“Then that is good enough for me. I accept your apology, Little Malfoy. Castor, what about you?”

“I accept as well, Draco, though I do not want to be tutored with you this fall. I will find someone else to be tutored with. Now please, leave.”

Draco and his father left the Black house and Castor and his grandfather went back to discussing proper purebloods he could be friends with.

~*~

Eight-year-old Castor cast a summoning charm on his quill with his practice wand and watched as it zoomed towards him. His friend, peer, and classmate, Blaise Zabini, was sitting next to him working on a Potions essay. Their tutor, Arthur Bradley, a home-schooled pure-blood, stood in between them, checking on Blaise’s essay and watching Castor’s spell work at the same time.

“Very good, Castor,” Arthur said. “Your grandfather named you well. You most certainly have a gift for casting. If you keep going at this rate, you’ll be able to take the Charms O.W.L. by the time you’re old enough to start school. You might want to discuss doing that with your grandfather. It will save you from being bored in class. If you pass the O.W.L. then you won’t have to take Charms and be bored.” Castor smiled happily under the praise and continued summoning objects to him.

“Papa,” he spoke up at tea later that day. “Mr. Arthur suggested that I look into taking my Charms O.W.L. early, before I start school. That way I won’t have to spend time doing things I already know.”

“Yes, I have been meaning to speak to you about your schooling, my boy.” Orion said, placing his tea cup on the table. “I was wondering, since you are so far ahead, if maybe you would want to continue home schooling. Or maybe you can go to Hogwarts, but take more advanced classes so you can continue learning where you will leave off with Arthur. Or I could send you to Durmstrang. They have an advanced program and they don’t accept Muggle riffraff. Yes, the more I think about it, Durmstrang seems acceptable. I will write to the Headmaster as soon as we are through with tea. I will inform Arthur to start German lessons immediately. Two years of serious study should give you a good enough grasp of the language.”

“Yes, Papa,” Castor said, turning his attention back to the meal. He knew better than to argue with his grandfather when he had decided something.

~*~

Ten-year-old Castor Orion Nigellus Black followed his grandfather through the crowds of Magischer Markt, the German version of Diagon Alley. They first stopped at the German branch of Gringotts to withdraw money to buy school supplies. With that taken care of they went to a store called Wands by Gregorovitch. “It will be a relief to you to rid yourself of that practice wand,” Orion said as they made their way to the shop, “and find a wand made to fit you.”

They entered the store and Castor looked around. It was a nicely decorated place, with a carpeted floor and a couple of comfortable looking couches as well as a few chairs. It did not look like a store to buy wands in. It looked more like a place where one would go to relax. Orion sat down in one of the chairs and leaned back, making himself comfortable.

A man appeared out of the back room. “Good day,” he said in German. “You are here for a wand, yes?”

“Yes,” Castor answered slowly, making sure his wording and grammar was correct. “I am starting Durmstrang and in need of a fitted wand instead of a practice wand. I apologize if I am wrong in my wording, I only started learning the language two years ago.”

“Your German is fine. Come and let me cast a few spells on you to see what kind of wand would fit you best. Which is your wand arm?”

“I have been trained to use both,” Castor replied, walking over to stand in front of the small man. “But my right hand is dominant.”

Gregorovitch nodded and began casting a series of spells on the young pureblood. The results appeared on a piece of parchment in the man’s hand. Eventually he stopped and walked to the back room, looking at the results. Eventually he returned carrying a wandbox. “The wood is constructed from ash and the core is a dragon’s heartstring. A powerful and temperamental wand, young Master Black.”

Castor took the wand from the box. It fit his hand perfectly and he felt his magic connect with the magic in the wand. He flicked it at the wandbox and muttered a levitation charm. It floated easily into the air. With a smile he released the spell.

“It is perfect. How much do I owe you?”

“Fifty Galleons, young Master.” Castor handed over the money and Orion stood and stepped forward.

“How much is a wand holster?” the man asked with the help of a translation spell.

“Wand holsters range from 5 Galleons to 15 Galleons, Master Black,” Gregorovitch replied. “Are you interested in purchasing one?”

“Yes, one for my grandson. A good, sturdy one, with protective charms on it.”

Gregorovitch went to the back of the shop and soon returned with another box. “A Graphorn hide holster,” he said, opening the box. “It is the best holster I have. It will cost 20 Galleons because the hide is difficult to obtain.” Orion paid the man and helped his grandson put the holster on his right arm and place the wand in it. When they had it on, they left the shop and made their way to the robe shop.

On their way they passed a bookshop and after Orion asked if he wanted to pick up his books before getting his robes, Castor explained, “The letter said that the first week of school will be testing to see which classes we need to be put into. The school provides the books for the students as some of them are rather dark and because you won’t know what books you need until after testing. Durmstrang groups students based on their skill level rather than their age.” They reached the robes shop and Castor was fitted for thick blood-red robes and heavy furs made from the fur of a Yeti.

Orion had bought Castor’s other supplies such as new quills and ink and parchment while he was getting fitted. When his uniform was done, the two Blacks left Magischer Markt and went back to number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

“Tomorrow we will go to Diagon Alley and buy you a wand from Ollivander.” Orion stated as Castor gathered his packages to take to his room.

“A second wand, Papa? Why?”

“I trained you to use your wand with both hands because you need to be prepared. If someone injures or amputates your wand hand, you need to be able to use your other hand. You need a back-up wand incase someone takes your first one. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Castor said softly and made his way upstairs to put his things away.

~*~

Castor and Orion Black entered the old, dusty wand shop. It was definitely not as nice as Gregorovitch’s. The walls were filled with wandboxes and there was one spindly chair in the corner. “Mr. Ollivander!” Orion called out. “My grandson is in need of a wand. Come and find him one.”

“Master Black,” Mr. Ollivander stepped out of the shadows. “Oak, unicorn hair, 10 inches. It is still in good condition?”

“Yes, it is fine. Hurry up and get my grandson a wand."

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