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2.35% [HPxJJK] - Harry Potter and the Supremacy of Cursed Blood / Chapter 5: Chapter 04- The Young Heir of House Black

Chapter 5: Chapter 04- The Young Heir of House Black

Arcturus Black III couldn't help but feel that fate was cruel to his family. Their prestigious and noble house was on the brink of extinction, with the only eligible heir to inherit the patriarchal mantle being the son of his elegant great-niece, Narcissa. To his dismay, a haughty and spoiled young boy, who dared not practice the Simplified Inherited Technique of the Black House, had the audacity to claim the noble throne of the Blacks!

Even if he were to die, Arcturus would prefer to destroy the entire Black House than see the Malfoy boy inherit it. He wouldn't have the courage to face his ancestors in the afterlife if he allowed a boy who didn't even practice the Simplified Inherited Technique to inherit the patriarchal mantle.

So, as if Merlin had heard his prayers, the Black family's house-elf, Kreacher, came into his presence, claiming to have heard a call from a member of the Black family summoning him! And it wasn't the three daughters of Cygnus!

Arcturus' face, which had always remained cold and indifferent for most of his life, broke into a smile like never before. However, upon learning about the nine-year-old boy with eyes as red as rubies, he laughed, releasing a loud and hearty laughter.

Eyes as red as rubies! 

How those words were music to Arcturus' ears. 

The reason Arcturus was so excited was that red held a special significance for the Black family, as it was the same color of eyes as their ancestor, whose name was Corvinus Black. The red eyes, or the eyes of the heart, were a rare mutation that appeared in a member of the Black family once every few centuries!

This mutation would only occur if someone inherited the Inherited Technique of the Black House - [Creation and Manipulation of Cursed Spirits]. 

This wasn't the weakened version that he and other family members used, but rather the same innate technique that their ancestors had employed for over a thousand years to consolidate the unparalleled prestige of the Black family as one of the most powerful on the entire planet. 

Arcturus was in complete happiness.

Even at almost ninety years old, having survived two magical wars, and nearly dying countless times at the hands of cursed spirits, Arcturus only wanted to scream to express the excitement welling up infinitely in his chest. Fortunately, he managed to maintain his composure; after all, he hadn't lived so long without being able to control his own emotions.

"Take me to the boy, Kreacher!" Arcturus exclaimed, his voice resonating through the Black Manor. "Yes, Lord Black! As you command, Lord Black!" Kreacher responded, gripping his large ears so tightly it seemed they could detach from his head. He displayed a happiness that rivaled Arcturus' own.

As he observed the imposing structure of the orphanage before him, Arcturus furrowed his brow, silently expressing a hope that his potential great-grandson wouldn't fall victim to shyness or low self-esteem due to his upbringing. 

If that were the case, he pledged to mold the young one into a true noble in every sense of the word. It was inconceivable that the future heir of the House Black would possess any trace of shyness or insecurity in the presence of other Noble Houses.

Holding his cane, adorned with the Black family crest sculpted onto it - a raven with wings spread wide - Arcturus walked the stone path until he stood in front of a door. With determination, he grasped the iron doorbell in a circular shape and rang it three times, producing a resonant sound that echoed through the surroundings. 

The door opened in response, revealing a woman of approximately fifty years, her graying hair arranged in an elegant bun. She wore a kindly expression, with a welcoming smile on her lips.

"How may I assist you, Your Excellency?" Gazing carefully at the elderly man, impeccably dressed in a noble black suit adorned with silver threads, Isabell Morgan, the respected headmistress of the orphanage, inquired with a voice that carried a note of prudence.

"Good afternoon, ma'am." Arcturus removed his hat and elegantly placed it over his chest as he bowed gracefully. "I am Arcturus Black III. I hope you forgive the unexpected, unannounced visit, but I have important matters concerning your orphanage."

Isabell couldn't help but feel surprised, not only by the gentlemanly manners of the nobleman but also by the name itself. He shared the same surname as the young Asterion in her orphanage. It didn't take much insight to realize there was some relation between the two; after all, Black was not a common surname in England.

With a kind smile, Isabell opened the door and gestured invitingly for Arcturus to enter. "It's not a bother, Mr. Black. Please come in, and I will arrange for some tea while we discuss our matters."

Inside the headmistress's office, Arcturus found himself seated while being served a cup of tea by the esteemed leader of the orphanage. After serving him, she settled into the chair across from him, casting a penetrating look with her almost-black, deep brown eyes, emanating seriousness.

"I presume Your Excellency has come in search of young Asterion," the headmistress expressed, her voice deep and her gaze incisive.

"Certainly, Mrs. Morgan. Could you enlighten me about him?" inquired Arcturus, his voice raspy, marked by the passage of time, carrying a hint of anxiety. Perhaps sensing this, the headmistress smiled gently, addressing the elderly man calmly as she sipped her tea.

"Asterion has always been a boy of calm and serene nature, offering his help readily, without ever complaining or shedding tears. He excelled in private lessons, securing the top position in all tests. However..." The headmistress paused briefly, seemingly hesitant for some reason, but continued under the unwavering gaze of the man.

"He changed at the age of six. Although he continued to perform his tasks impeccably, he distanced himself from the other children and spent long hours in his room. I would say that over time, he became progressively more distant and cold."

Arcturus listened attentively, fearing to miss any detail. Upon hearing about the young boy's qualities, especially his academic achievements, he nodded with satisfaction, increasingly pleased with the prospect of Asterion as his future heir.

Regarding the account of the boy becoming progressively more distant and cold, Arcturus presumed that the boy awakened his magical energy at the age of six and began to use and experiment with it, including his Inherited Technique.

Why did he think so? The moment Arcturus entered the orphanage, he detected numerous cursed spirits, some for surveillance and others for attacks. The boy had wasted no time when it came to security.

Translated by AI

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Author's Thoughts: In this chapter, I introduced the concept of the Simplified Inherited Technique, which is nothing more than a castrated version of an inherited technique. After all, if all members of a Noble House inherited the Inherited Technique, this world would be seriously unbalanced. The Simplified Technique of the Black House, for example, is the same as Suguru Geto's original, but unlike Geto, who was a genius with large amounts of cursed energy, members of the Black House did not have that privilege. For this reason, the number of Cursed Spirits a member of the Black House can control depends entirely on how much Magic Energy they possess.

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Chapter 6: Chapter 05 - The Young Heir of House Black

Observing the man's atypical reaction, Isabell inquired with a stern voice tinged with anger, "You don't seem concerned about his condition, Mr. Black." Arcturus' indifference to Asterion's well-being truly infuriated the orphanage headmistress. Having devoted her entire life to caring for children, she particularly despised those who ignored a child's pain.

Arcturus coldly gazed at the woman, who concealed her anger behind a stoic facade. He held the cup and slowly tasted the tea.

"When you wear the crown, you must bear its weight," the indifferent voice lingered in the office air. He looked up, directly into the woman's eyes, and continued speaking slowly. "Asterion chose to live with a true Black; he placed the crown; now he must bear the weight that comes with it."

Isabell's eyes seemed frozen as she heard his words. "What weight should a nine-year-old child bear, Mr. Black?" Her kind voice transformed into a harsh and cold tone.

"That's no longer something that concerns you, Mrs. Morgan." He paused for a moment, looked at the woman, and continued, "If you'll allow me, I want to meet my great-grandson now." He finished by placing the teacup on the table.

Isabell took a deep breath, restraining herself from shouting and expelling the man from the orphanage. However, she knew she couldn't; the man in front of her had complete rights over Asterion as the likely guardian of the boy.

"Please follow me, Mr. Black," she said, rising from her chair. 

Arcturus ignored the woman's cold tone; like a Muggle, she would never understand the weight a wizard carried.

He wasn't deemed noble merely by birth; he was regarded as noble for shedding blood and sweat for the country he loved. For over seven decades, he pressed on, engaging in an unyielding battle against the darkness, teetering on the brink of death numerous times. Survival in some instances was just a stroke of luck; relentless, he advanced, oblivious to the countless scars etched onto his body during years of tireless struggle.

Isabell accompanied Arcturus to the first floor of the building, where they finally stopped in front of a door. Knocking on the door, Isabell spoke in a gentle tone, quite different from the tone she had used with Arcturus earlier. "Asterion, you have a visitor. May I come in for a moment?"

"Come in, it's open," a low voice responded from behind the door, fatigue audible in his tone.

As Isabell was about to enter, she couldn't proceed as Arcturus had stopped her.

"Mrs. Morgan, I wish to speak with my great-grandson alone."

"That's impossible—" As she was about to continue, she saw Arcturus draw a beautiful wand and gesture in her direction.

"You don't need to worry, Mrs. Morgan. You can return to the office to prepare the necessary paperwork for Asterion's departure," he said with a stern tone, devoid of any emotion on his face.

"Yes, I'll be in the office if you need anything," Isabel said, showing a gentle smile as she headed to her own office.

Putting his wand back into the holster on his arm, Arcturus smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes. Then, he gripped the doorknob and opened the door.

The door swung open, revealing an impeccably clean and tidy room. Nothing extravagant, just a bed, a wardrobe, an old lamp on top of an even older desk.

So, Arcturus saw him, sitting in the chair in front of the desk, writing with full concentration on a piece of paper. Honestly, he thought that upon seeing the boy, he would recognize whether he was the son of Sirius or Regulus, but looking at his face, Arcturus had to admit that the boy bore no resemblance to his grandchildren.

Delicate and refined facial features, smooth black hair, and vibrant red eyes like two shining rubies. If there was anything indicating his paternal origin, it was the straight black hair, a trait inherited from Regulus, as Sirius had darker brown, more curly hair.

Arcturus focused on the red eyes and let out a low laugh. Even though he knew the information beforehand, seeing it for himself brought him immense joy. He could envision the House of Black once again rising to the top among all Noble Houses. He would ensure this happened before embracing death, satisfied in knowing he left a worthy heir in the world.

"Hello, Asterion," Arcturus said with his raspy, aged voice. His black eyes stared at his great-grandson with a content look. In terms of appearance, he had nothing to worry about. The boy, even without knowledge of his heritage, sat upright and with dignity.

He saw the boy stop writing and place the pen on the desk while looking him up and down.

"A relative of mine, I presume," said the boy, his melodic and serene voice resonating in the particularly quiet room.

"You presumed correctly, my dear grandson," Arcturus laughed at the boy's intelligence as he calmly sat on the bed while introducing himself. "I am Arcturus Black III, your father's grandfather and the current patriarch of the oldest and noble House of Black. Also, I am a Semi-Special Grade wizard at the British Ministry of Magic."

"Asterion Black, orphan and heir to nothing at the moment," Asterion said in a louder-than-usual tone with a humorous inflection. Arcturus laughed, enjoying the cheeky and bold attitude of the boy.

"I suppose you have questions, Asterion," Arcturus said, changing the atmosphere in the room.

"Yes, I have many unanswered questions, but for now, I'd like to know if my parents are still alive," Asterion looked at the elderly man sitting on his bed with a complex expression. He wanted to know who his parents were, and if they were indeed dead, he would avenge them—the least he could do for the people who brought him into this world.

"The truth is, I also don't know whose son you are," Arcturus looked at the still indifferent boy and continued, "If you are the son of my grandson, Regulus, then he's dead, killed by the Dark Lord, Voldemort. If you are the son of my other grandson, Sirius, he's currently imprisoned for blowing up an entire street, killing thousands of people in the process."

"No other options?" Asterion asked again after learning the fate of his potential father. Although there were some differences from what he knew, they were irrelevant at the moment.

"No, according to your date of birth, you are the son of Regulus or Sirius," Arcturus shook his head and answered honestly. After learning about the boy's existence, he himself determined the boy's paternal origins; he was the son of Regulus or Sirius, there was no other option.

"I am the son of Regulus," Asterion spoke, causing the room to fall into complete silence. The boy's response made Arcturus look closely at him with an extremely serious expression.

Translated by AI.

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Author's Thoughts: Honestly, some of you may find these chapters a bit boring, and I apologize for that, but they are necessary for world-building.

By the way, could you provide some help in choosing the cursed spirits for the main character? Believe me, it's difficult! The only requirement is that they must be powerful and malevolent legends.

k


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