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7.05% [HPxJJK] - Harry Potter and the Supremacy of Cursed Blood / Chapter 17: Chapter 15 - Gringotts

Chapter 17: Chapter 15 - Gringotts

Upon hearing the doors of the hall open, Arcturus, who was absorbed in reading his newspaper, briefly looked up towards the entrance and blinked, surprised at the scene before him. Narcissa and Asterion entered the hall hand in hand. The old Black patriarch wasn't surprised by the closeness between the two; they had grown very close over these five months. Instead, he was taken aback by the attire his great-grandson was wearing at that moment.

Unlike his usual attire, which consisted of elegant suits or something more casual like black pants and white shirts, Asterion was wearing, at that moment, an elegant suit, but unlike his usual black color. The suit now displayed a dark green tone, with the Black House crest strangely divided in half. The Black Raven was positioned on the right side of the upper part of the crest, leaving the lower part on the left side empty.

It seemed that the young man had reserved a space for the possible crest of the noble house from his maternal lineage, something Arcturus doubted existed. The boy's mother was probably a Muggle with whom Regulus had a brief encounter during one of his drunken nights. His grandson had a weakness for drink, especially when it involved good whiskey.

Although the dark green color still raised many questions in his mind, as he looked into his grandson's ruby eyes, Arcturus noticed a clear spark of amusement dancing in those deep ruby eyes. For some reason, a strange feeling of caution sprang up in his heart. He couldn't pinpoint where that feeling came from, but he was certain that something extraordinary was about to happen, and his great-grandson was somehow involved.

"Good morning. I hope you both had a good night's sleep." Despite the caution he felt, Arcturus didn't let it show on his face. He greeted the two with his calm, deep voice, briefly holding his gaze on his great-grandson's face. The boy was plotting something; of that, he was sure.

Perhaps sensing Arcturus' gaze upon him, Asterion returned the look and nodded, sitting next to Narcissa. His plan was just beginning, and he didn't want to expose anything prematurely. The memory of how he Apparated into the alley that day was still fresh in his mind, and today would be the day of his revenge. Yes, Asterion was someone who held grudges easily.

He longed to see the legendary Arcturus Black lose his usual composure, yearning for the shock on the old patriarch's face upon discovering his maternal lineage. Just the thought of the image almost made his lips curve into a smile, but thankfully he managed to control himself and distractedly spread butter on his toast.

Narcissa glanced at Asterion and then shifted her gaze to Arcturus. For some reason, both seemed to be plotting something or acting cautiously. The situation was extremely suspicious and unusual.

Sensing the tense atmosphere hanging in the air, Narcissa tried to change it by introducing a new topic into the room.

"Grandfather, I wanted to ask earlier, but where is Aunt Walburga's Animated Portrait? I haven't seen it anywhere since I arrived here."

 

 

Arcturus paused from reading the newspaper for a moment and responded coldly, "Thanks to Merlin, long deceased, her portrait is rotting away somewhere in the basement." His voice carried a hint of venom when mentioning his late daughter-in-law and cousin, Walburga, wife of his son, Orion Black.

Narcissa was not surprised by his words, nor by the contained animosity within them. She knew that Walburga and Arcturus had never been friends; in fact, they were practically enemies. As for the reason behind this animosity, it was mainly Walburga's extremist pure-blood ideology.

Not that Arcturus wasn't a worthy example of a pure-blood, but the old patriarch was more pragmatic and realistic. He didn't harbor hatred for Muggle-borns, nor did he desire mass genocide in the name of equally insane ideals of a megalomaniac like Voldemort.

"I think Asterion has the right to know his grandmother, after all, she was still Regulus's mother," said Narcissa cautiously, fearing to provoke Arcturus's wrath with her suggestion.

Arcturus looked at Narcissa with a helpless gaze and then at his grandson, who observed him with a curious expression in his ruby eyes.

" Kreacher," Arcturus uttered with his deep voice.

At that moment, the house-elf, named Kreacher, appeared next to the old patriarch, bowing constantly. "Kreacher heard your call, Lord Black!" The elf's voice was old and raspy.

"Go fetch Walburga's Animated Portrait from the basement," he ordered, still focused on reading his newspaper.

"Your orders are a decree, Lord Black! Kreacher will retrieve the portrait of the noble Lady Black!" The house-elf was more than happy to be tasked; he apparated from the dining hall at extreme speed.

About forty seconds later, Kreacher returned carrying a large Portrait made of black oak. Interestingly, the portrait depicted a woman wearing an elegant black aristocratic dress, with her hair styled in a sophisticated bun. It was Walburga Black.

"Arcturus, you old dead, pure-blooded scum! If I ever leave this portrait, you're dead! I'll tear you apart like a mangy animal. I'll cut your dick off, you filthy bastard—" The portrait moved as if it were alive. The first thing it did upon arriving in the hall was to curse the old patriarch in every possible way for long minutes without stopping once. Even Asterion was surprised by the amount of profanity uttered in less than a minute.

Arcturus didn't even bother to look up and kept reading, ignoring the sharp and shrill screams of the woman. He wondered if the portrait would feel the pain of being burned alive if he set it on fire. He kept that idea ready to test it at some point in the future.

While Walburga's portrait incessantly cursed Arcturus, the portrait of Walburga noticed other people in the dining hall, someone she knew especially well, after all, she raised her alongside her sister-in-law.

"Narcissa, look at you, you've become as beautiful and elegant a woman as one would expect from a true Black," Walburga spoke in a tone completely different from when she cursed Arcturus. Although her tone was stern and serious.

"It's been a while, Aunt," Narcissa greeted the woman who practically raised her. Even after death, Walburga still maintained the same tone; it seemed as if she hadn't even died, although she was merely a collection of memories.

She rose from her chair and stood behind Asterion, placing her hands on the boy's shoulders. "But, Aunt, I want to introduce you to someone, more precisely, your grandson, son of Regulus."

Walburga's body within the portrait came to a complete stop, her gaze falling upon the child whose shoulders Narcissa held. She looked into the boy's red eyes for a long time in silence, and when she finally spoke again, she shocked everyone in the hall:

"Hello, my lovely grandson, look at you, you look like an adorable prince."

Arcturus and Narcissa looked at the portrait in disbelief, wondering if they were hearing things, for it was impossible for Walburga Black to speak in such a kind and sweet tone. Truth be told, whether Arcturus or Narcissa, they felt a shiver run down their spines hearing the woman's sweet tone.

"Hello, Grandmother, I am Asterion Regulus Black, it's a pleasure to meet you." Asterion ignored the shocked looks from both and greeted his grandmother with much elegance and politeness.

"Judging by your manners, Narcissa has done a good job in instructing you, keep learning from her, she was my masterpiece, my dear grandson."

Walburga couldn't be happier at this moment, as she shouldn't, the legendary innate technique of the House of Black appeared in her lineage! Her soul, which is probably in hell, would be jumping for joy, along with all her ancestors.

----------------------------------------

Author's Thoughts: Everyone's favorite portrait is back! This was an interesting chapter where we can see the interactions between the characters, Arcturus and Walburga, as well as the reason for his animosity.

The next chapter we go to Diagon Alley!

Support me to write more and read chapters ahead of all regular readers! 

The Patreon will be updated daily, except on Saturdays and Sundays, when I do not write.

P-atreon.com/HPSCB

(Just remove the hyphen to access Patreon normally.)

Patron's: Chris, Justrice Harrison, AlucardoBlood, Renne Bruffett, Straydog, IDaGoat Mypark, Hamza Ahmed, Dishitian, James, Zhenya, Enriv125, Michael, NinjaTiger, Mursel Kenan, Andrea Barbarino, Bejamim Kingura, NaYati.

Next Chapter: (Chapter 16 - Gringotts (2)), (Chapter 17 - Gringotts (3), (Chapter 18 - Gringotts (4)), (Chapter 19 - Gringotts (5)), (Chapter 20 - Unrest in England (1), (Chapter 21 - Unrest in England (2), (Chapter 22 - Unrest in England (3).


Chapter 18: Chapter 16 - Gringotts (2)

"Have a little more cake, Asterion," Walburga inside the portrait spoke with a sweet and indulgent tone towards her grandson.

Seeing Asterion being pampered at every moment by Walburga, Narcissa just huffed quietly. Now, she truly believed that all parents had favorite children or grandchildren. Her stern aunt, who raised her children as if they were in the military, now worried about every little thing regarding her dear grandson. Even worrying about the heat of the coffee for fear of hurting Asterion's tongue... and that, honestly, was starting to make her angry.

The breakfast ended with Walburga urging Asterion to eat more, as he seemed too skinny, and she even blamed Arcturus for neglecting her precious grandson, calling him a dead old man and other insults.

The old patriarch furrowed his brow deeply, probably restraining himself from setting fire to the animated portrait, regardless of how satisfying it would be to watch the painting burn with the flames of hell.

Narcissa truly regretted saying anything earlier. If she had known this would happen, she would have stayed silent and never asked about her aunt Walburga's portrait again.

"Now that we're done, let's head to Diagon Alley," Arcturus said, rising from his chair.

"You're taking Asterion to Diagon Alley?" Walburga inside the portrait asked, furrowing her brow. "Don't you know how ignorant those people can be? What if they hurt my precious grandson?"

"Asterion is not weak, besides, Narcissa and I will be there," Arcturus replied coldly, not waiting for her response, and left the dining hall, tapping his cane on the floor, apparently venting on the poor tiles.

"Humph!" Walburga huffed as the man left and focused entirely on Asterion.

"My dear grandson, don't listen to anything those filthy Muggle-borns and half-breeds say. If possible, kill a few of them to clear the air a bit; they seem to smell like pigs in a sty."

Asterion pursed his lips and refused to respond, listening to the genuine concern of his beloved yet very racist and extremist deceased grandmother.

-

Outside the Black Manor, Arcturus touched the shoulders of Asterion and Narcissa. In an instant, the three vanished with a loud pop, similar to the backfiring of a car exhaust.

During the process, Asterion felt a weight on his chest, his vision darkened, and his eyes darted in all directions while his organs seemed to move on their own inside his body.

 

When Asterion felt the ground beneath his feet again, a familiar feeling of nausea and sickness made him feel unsteady, but he quickly recovered from these sensations and found himself standing in front of the entrance to a seemingly very dilapidated bar. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was a place in danger of collapsing at any moment.

The Leaky Cauldron.

Asterion presumed that all wizards had some fetish related to old things or were very reluctant to separate from the old world. He wouldn't stay in this place for even a minute, fearing he might catch the Black Plague from how old the place was.

"What do you think?" Arcturus asked, looking at his great-grandson.

"I think we should demolish the place and build something more hygienic and new," Asterion said, with a look of disgust as he glanced at the old wizarding pub. He knew the pub was the oldest in England, but since then, it seemed like the bar had been frozen in time.

"You don't know how to appreciate it, Asterion. This place is history itself, with its nearly four centuries of existence. How many talented wizards like our ancestors have passed through here and entered the wizarding world?" Arcturus shook his head at his great-grandson's response and then gently stroked his hair.

Asterion rolled his eyes and didn't hide the dislike he felt for the place. For someone who loved hygiene and cleanliness, this place was hell for him.

Arcturus gave up trying to reason with him. He walked over to the ancient door, corroded by time and many termites.

"Let's go, Asty." Taking his hand, Narcissa gently pulled him towards the entrance of the pub.

As the three members of the House of Black entered the place, the entire atmosphere fell silent. The sound of someone swallowing was particularly audible in this silent environment.

For the first time, Asterion truly felt what it meant to be a Black, a Noble House that had produced many Dark Lords, in many cases, reigns of tyranny, terror, and fear. Fear was palpable in the air, the atmosphere completely silent, some even afraid to look at the three people, fearing some misfortune might befall them.

Due to his innate technique, Asterion had a heightened sensitivity to negative magical energy, commonly generated from fear, anxiety, and terror that people emanated. He could feel the anxieties, fears, and even curiosity born from the horror stories they had heard from their dearest relatives.

When Arcturus tapped his cane on the floor and walked towards the back of the bar, some of the more cowardly patrons nearly jumped out of their seats, while those closer to the entrance of Diagon Alley simply lowered their heads as the three members of the House of Black passed by them.

 

Honestly, Asterion felt the whole situation was amusing, even overly exaggerated. It seemed like the entire British wizarding society had been influenced to fear them. If this was orchestrated by someone, Asterion had to applaud such genius, as it practically prevented any member of the House of Black from running for the position of British Minister for Magic.

Although ironically, the House of Black still remained the leader of the Pure-bloods in England, so regardless of any official position, they were still one of the most powerful families on the planet.

"So, what did you feel seeing the fear we caused in them?" Before opening the passage that led directly to Diagon Alley, Arcturus turned to look at Asterion and asked in his usual deep and cold voice.

Asterion pondered, recalling the faces of those men and women, remembering what he felt in that moment. He looked at the old Black patriarch and replied in a cold tone:

"I felt good."

Arcturus looked deeply at his great-grandson with his black eyes, slightly surprised by his response, and spoke coldly, "Then, remember that feeling, for it will be what you feel throughout your life, a life where everyone looks at you with fear and respect."

Narcissa remained silent, listening to the entire conversation between them. She couldn't help but recall the first time she felt that way. Her mother, Druella, had asked her the same question, so she remembered what she felt that year. 'They made me feel like a monster, where everyone looked at me and recoiled in fear,' Narcissa thought, looking at Asterion, who seemed completely normal. The two of them were fundamentally different.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Asterion. This is the beginning of your story in the wizarding world."

Unaware of what his niece was thinking, Arcturus spoke as he opened the stone passage. Stone by stone, everyone began to retreat, gradually revealing a place completely different from the pub they were in.

Diagon Alley.

-----------------------------------------------

Author's Thoughts: We've arrived at Diagon Alley, but I won't describe it because I think everyone reading this fanfic knows what Diagon Alley is like. Let me know in the comments what you think!

IMPORTANT NOTE: My sister's wedding will be on the 27th of this month, I can get busy, but I will try to post during the week, wish me luck, because I will need it...

Support me to write more and read chapters ahead of all regular readers! 

The Patreon will be updated daily, except on Saturdays and Sundays, when I do not write.

P-atreon.com/HPSCB

(Just remove the hyphen to access Patreon normally.)

Patron's: Chris, Justrice Harrison, AlucardoBlood, Renne Bruffett, Straydog, IDaGoat Mypark, Hamza Ahmed, Dishitian, James, Zhenya, Enriv125, Michael, NinjaTiger, Mursel Kenan, Andrea Barbarino, Benjamin Kingunza, NaYati, Austin Pierce, Leopardu Junglei, Anthony Casas Cano, Xerxes33311, Ray Tery, Joseph, Max Brown, Hrisav Dewanjee.

Next Chapter: (Chapter 17 - Gringotts (3)), (Chapter 18 - Gringotts (4), (Chapter 19 - Gringotts (5)), (Chapter 20 - Unrest in England (1), (Chapter 21 - Unrest in England (2), (Chapter 22 - Unrest in England (3), (Chapter 23 - Escaping from Azkaban (1) (Chapter 24 - Escaping from Azkaban (2).

 


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