Còir Buaidh

The Early Years 8

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“Wingardium Leviosa,” I said, my wand pointing at the cup on the table. I swore I could feel magic shift around me and flow through me and my wand before the cup shifted. However, that was all the cup did. “Wingardium Leviosa,” I growled out, annoyed at the cup not obeying my will.

“While using anger will grant power to your magic, you need to remain the one in control.” That pearl of wisdom – one I’d heard in several different ways ever since getting my Lord’s wand – came from Melania as she stood about a metre behind me.

Ever since the Wizengamot session a week ago, I’d been having regular lessons covering first-year topics with either her or the portraits of my ancestors. Of those lessons, Melania handled those that required practical supervision, such as using charms and incantations or making potions, though I’d not reached that stage in my tutoring so far, mainly as Melania admitted it wasn’t her strongest subject and a suitable tutor hadn’t yet been vetted by Arcturus and my ancestors. Still, she was helping me with today’s session, which covered charms, in particular the Levitation charm.

Of those charms, Incendio had been the easiest to use, so much so that when I’d first tried to ignite a sheet of paper with the charm, I’d instead turned the sheet to ash and burnt the ground around it. Melania had quickly cleaned it up, noting that such a display was unrefined but showed promise. My great-grandfather though had smiled widely at the display, though I wasn’t sure why.

While they and others had reacted to my rather explosive demonstration of the fire-making charm, I’d struggled to hide my delight. Whenever I used a spell, I could feel magic reacting, flowing to obey my command. Yet with Incendio, it had felt as if I could hear the flames as if they wanted me to do more than simply summon them. No doubt that had something to do with my affinity with fire, but I couldn’t truly experiment with it yet.

The same went for my lightning affinity, though that was more because spells, charms and incantations that invoked it weren't first-year work.

I took a deep breath, calming myself and trying to sense the magic within. Everyone said I needed to meditate, as it helped focus the mind for spellwork. While I wondered if that also helped with Occlumency, I hadn’t yet had any instruction in that.

“Wingardium Leviosa.” As I felt magic react to my words and the movement of my wand, I sensed something slightly different about it. As if magic was suddenly willing to agree with my demand, and a second later the cup rose into the air. It was still shaking slightly, but the action was clear and obvious, which was a massive improvement over how things had gone so far.

“Excellent. Now, return the cup to the table without it falling over.”

I wanted to glare at Melania, as that wasn’t something the textbook suggested a first year should try. Yet, she’d done this with the other basic charms once I’d shown I could use them. She seemed to find an odd delight in making me do more than I should with a charm. I felt there was more to it than simply pushing my education, but for the time being, I couldn’t tell why that was. Nor was she, or the portraits of my ancestors, willing to divulge the reason behind her action.

My focus remained on the cup, holding it steady in the air, removing as best I could, the slight wobbles it was having. That wasn’t something I needed to do, but I’d discovered with the Hover charm that removing the wobbles made it easier to exert my will over magic and offered finer control. Once the cup was steady, I slowly brought my wand down, the cup responding to the wand’s movements. I moved slowly, not wanting to lose control and have to repeat the exercise. Oh, I knew I would be as, even without more words from Melania or my ancestors, I understood that spells became easier the more they were used.

I’d proven that to myself by only taking a week to cast Lumos without having to verbalise the spell. I still needed my wand to cast it though, however, I swore I could feel magic trying to react to my demands. I wasn’t sure why it wasn’t, but with the affinities I’d taken before my merging, I felt the trick was a combination of growing older and stronger and having greater skill with specific incantations.

Eventually, the cup returned to the table with only the gentlest of rocking. I sighed loudly as I released my control over magic and relaxed. While the Levitation charm was a simple one, holding and using it with control was far more taxing than I expected.

A hand came to rest on my shoulder, and I turned to Melania. “Well done. Many struggle to keep an object stable when using the charm for the first time, more still with moving and returning it to its location without it falling over. That you can do so now is a sign that while the road ahead of you is long and arduous, you have great potential.” I smiled, accepting the praise even as she removed her hand. “That will be enough for this lesson. Collect your copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and head to your grandmother."

I nodded accepting the instruction as I bit back a grunt of annoyance. While I understood the value of Herbology, and how useful many of the plants were in making potions and other things, I lacked the green thumb to make the subject enjoyable. Potions was a little better, though while I could manage it, it wasn’t something I truly enjoyed. That said, it could be because I’d only been studying the textbooks for both subjects so far instead of doing something like with Charms.

That logic failed me though when it came to Transfiguration. Like Herbology and Potions, all I’d done so far – and for the foreseeable future I felt – was study the textbook, learning the rites that governed this branch of magic. Yet even though some of the calculations and concepts within the First Year textbook were complicated – at least for someone not having excelled at Math in secondary school – they made perfect sense. Altering the nature of something required an understanding of multiple things, to a degree that I was impressed by how much wizards and witches understood of the sub-atomic world and how it affected everything. Oh, they didn’t consider transfiguration in those terms, but I could link much of what was discussed with what I knew from my former adult life.

Sadly for me, today I wouldn’t be pushing on in those lessons, or any of the others like Runes or History, instead having to go over Herbology.

At least it should be my least favourite First Year subject, though that might only be because Divination wasn’t covered until Second Year.

… …

… …

Arcturus stood before me, his eyes going over me so clinically I felt like I was standing before the gate of heaven, my very soul being weighed for worthiness. Of course, if it was the pearly gates, I’d never get in, not after what happened at the orphanage.

“Acceptable,” Arcturus said slowly. “While the tailor had to rush the work, it is of sufficient quality for a Lord. Especially for one as young as yourself.” I sighed in relief, glad the clothing I was wearing met his expectations. After spending over a hundred Galleons to get a suit made just for today, it bloody well had better.

Currently, I was standing before him in the main hall of Dunscaith Castle. A deep green shirt made of acromantula silk was covered by a set of robes made of dragon skin taken from a Welsh Green. My trousers, made by a tailor exclusive to the families of members of the Wizengamot tapered down to a pair of black shoes that were polished so well I felt they’d reflected the sun brighter than it shone. The shine on them, along with a dozen others for protection and care of the materials, guaranteed by charms woven into the leather.

The reason I was so immaculately dressed was that today I’d be greeting the heads of the cadet branches of Clan MacLeod, the chiefs of the Septs sworn to Clan MacLeod and my uncles and aunts from my father’s side of the family.

My ancestors had informed me that this Gathering was meant to happen within a week of a new MacLeod of MacLeod claiming the torc. However, due to my age, and the lack of training I had in literally everything to do with this, the Gathering had been delayed almost a month. With the help of my ancestors, I had owled each of them to inform them of the delay, while none had outright been upset in the responses, and claimed to understand my logic for the delay, several – including both my father’s brothers and the head of two of the cadet branches of the family – had been as passive-aggressive as they could in their replies without being downright insulting.

While I did question if any of them could’ve been involved in the attack on my family, while going over the order of events for today, my great-grandfather informed me that none of them should be able to. All would be swearing an oath with magic on the torc of loyalty, and in the case of the sept houses, servitude. Though for most of the septs, those oaths were slightly different as they held a seat in the Wizengamot. Clan MacAulay was the oldest of the trio, being considered an Established House – placing it one tier below Clan MacLeod who were Ancient – while Clans MacAskill and MacWilliam were Registered Houses, the lowest of the five tiers of age for Houses. Clan MacDuncan didn’t have a seat yet, but when the current Chief died, their eldest would become the tenth consecutive Chief and thus raise their house to Registered status.

Honestly, the rules on how ranks – and thus votes – worked in the Wizengamot were more convoluted than needed. There were five ranks of age for a House, Clan or whatever they called themselves. Those went from Registered House to Established House, followed by Ancient House, and then Most Ancient. There was a fifth tier, House of Antiquity, but a house either had to have existed with the Isles for over two thousand years, or be raised to that rank by a vote tallying over ninety per cent of the total possible Wizengamot votes. Any house could also be lowered from its current tier for doing something unspeakable, but again that would take a vote with over ninety per cent of the possible votes to achieve and had never happened. Not even with the precursor to the Wizengamot, the Wizard’s Council or anything that existed before then.

Each tier had different voting rights, going one, two, four, six and ten for Registered, Established, Ancient, Most Ancient and House of Antiquity. Plus, there were also extra votes depending on the Noble rank of a House or Clan. Most of the Houses in the Wizengamot had formed sometime after the Statue of Secrecy and thus didn’t have noble connections, though there had been a few who’d come from muggle noble families that were granted the rank if their magical founder would’ve been the heir had they been born muggle. There were only three ranks of nobility in the Wizengamot, going from nothing to Noble to Most Noble. Those granted zero, one or two extra votes.

From all of this, and the fact a full session of the Wizengamot, as I’d witnessed, could have over two hundred people present – which included the Minister, the heads of eight departments, and the Chief Warlock, all of whom had votes as well – made things insanely complicated. Thankfully, neither my ancestors nor Arcturus had gone into further detail, but given there weren’t parties as much as ideals that a Lord or Chief could shift from depending on the vote brought forth, I had little doubt that magical politics put the insanity of muggle politics to shame with its sheer complexity.

All I had been informed of was that as Chief of the Noble and Ancient Clan MacLeod, when I was able to wield them, I’d have six votes at my direct command, with four more coming from the Sept clans. Arcturus held eight votes directly and votes of seven other houses tied to House Black, including one Ancient House. However, those lower houses, in theory, could vote how they wished. What the rules governing such freedom was not something anyone would tell me, possibly because it was a private matter between houses, or because it – Magic help me – might be even more convoluted than how the Wizengamot and Ministry worked.

All of that, and the lessons in how today had to go, was making me regret my choices to end up in this merged consciousness and longing for the ease of attending Hogwarts and enjoying being a simple student. However, I somehow felt things there were going to be just as convoluted and twisted as the rest of the magical world felt.

A loud chime rang through the house, one I’d not heard before. Frowning, I turned to Kadic. The elf, looking cleaner in his clothing than he normally did, looked back at me with a small smile. “Visitors arrived. Kadic go greet them, Master?” I nodded and Kadir disappeared after clicking his fingers.

“While they are guests in your home, remember that they are subservient to you,” Arcturus spoke once Kadic was gone. “Even simple gestures like who arrives last departs first or the order of seating and speech is of importance.” I nodded and sighed, not looking forward to this. “I understand that all of this can seem overwhelming, however, your elf will be on hand to ensure your safety, as will the wards of this ancient castle. While I will also be present, I am but an interested observer, much like your ancestor’s paintings, invited by you to offer advice if you so require it. I cannot in any way act as your elder or superior or it would undermine your position.”

“I understand,” I replied and with that he fell silent, leaving me with just my thoughts to consider the upcoming meeting. This would be, at least until the Winter Solstice, the last time I should have to act as a Chief. It would also, according to my ancestors, allow me to judge who I could appoint to my seat. However, that couldn’t occur until after I’d passed at least five OWLs.

Time dragged on as I waited for Kadic to return. As The MacLeod, while this was my domain, I was expected to enter the room last as none of those present were my equal. If someone of equal or greater rank was present – say Arcturus in his official capacity as The Black and not as a distant family member and tutor – I would be expected to greet them as they arrived. The same was true whenever I hosted events within the clan’s domains.

A familiar and reassuring pop filled the room as Kadic reappeared about five minutes later. “Guests are ready, Master. They await The MacLeod.”

“Thank you, Kadic.” That earned me a small smile and nod from the elf. While I wasn’t required to be friendly toward him, Kadic had saved my life and was the only living connection I had to my family. Hell, in every way bar blood, he was family as far as I was concerned, and such would be treated so by me and my guests.

I moved forward, my first steps unsure as I felt the tremors of worry gather in the pit of my stomach. However, by the time I reached the door that led to the hall, I’d pushed that worry aside. This was my castle, my home, and these guests – even if some of them had grown up here – were here to respect me. To do otherwise was a mistake they’d regret.

With a flick of my wand, the door separating the smaller study that I’d been in from the main hall opened. A small smile crept onto my face at being able to use the knockback jinx silently. While it wasn’t a powerful spell compared to some of those mentioned in the later textbooks, the fact I could use it silently within a few weeks was something that everyone was impressed with. Some of it I suspected was down to how well my Lord’s wand worked for me, but I knew it was a hint that the magical potential I held was starting to grow.

Now, it wouldn’t grow too rapidly, a spell having been entwined in every child at birth to prevent this, something I understood after lessons with my grandmother and great-grandmother, as that could place a child in danger, but from how everyone around me behaved, it seemed my potential was growing faster than most. Which played into the Extreme potential the Inheritance Ritual had revealed.

The room my guests were gathered in was lavishly decorated. The walls were decorated in a dark burgundy wallpaper upon which animals printed with gold moved around. The columns supporting the room were engraved with elegant, rippling patterns that always drew my attention. Buried within them were runes though most were beyond my understanding, so much so that I suspected some weren’t Futhark, which, as the light caught them, seemed to flow with power that hadn’t been there before.

“Chief MacLeod.” The words came from one of my aunts as she saw me enter. She and everyone else stood and lowered their heads. “It’s both an honour to meet you and a relief to know you survived the heinous attack on our family.”

“Here! Here!” The others agreed.

“And I am honoured to welcome you all inside my hearth,” I replied to Aunt Katrina. “I also thank you for your words of comfort and support. Please, be seated.”

As one they all did as I asked, and I moved toward my chair. While the table was round, my chair was easy to tell apart. Every chair was finely carved from deep mahogany with velvet cushioning, the padding filled with feathers from swans. While my chair has the same cushioning, the back reached higher than me, almost to the height of a fully grown man, and was inlaid with gems, silver and gold with the metals used to place runes of protection and comfort on the chair.

I did my best to not sigh as I sank into the chair and the power used in its creation over five hundred years ago reacted and shaped itself to my presence. Magic was fucking amazing, almost to the point if I could spend the rest of my life dealing with politics in this chair I might be willing to put up with all the bullshit that would bring.

The table we were seated around was carved of the same mahogany, though its surface was black marble shot through with brilliant silver, and the edgings once more bore gold inscribed runes that seemed to move if you stared at them too long.

The seats to my direct left and right were empty, as I had neither a wife nor a steward. After that though, they were filled. On my right were the heads of the four septs – Ewan MacAulay, Donald MacAskill, Angus MacWilliam, and Duncan MacDuncan – in order of seniority. To my left sat my father’s siblings, who were – from eldest – Katrina, Moire, and Fiona. Katrina was the closest to me on the family tree - and also one of my guardians as appointed by my parents, though I’d only discovered that after my appearance before the Wizengamot - and as I lacked a steward or wife, that was why she had been the one to greet me. My other guardian had been Lauchlan MacGregor, who died along with my family, including both my uncles and most of their families, and others during the Summer Solstice Massacre.

The last three at the table, and those that joined the septs with my close family, were the heads of the three cadet branches of Clan MacLeod. Finn MacLeod of Camus (Knock) Castle, Murdo MacLeod of Duntelm Castle and Paul MacLeod whose family lived close to Horizon Alley in Edinburgh sat in the gap between Fiona and Duncan MacDuncan. None of the cadet branches had been present at the Summer Solstice as their families were considered too minor to be invited, which did, in my opinion, suggest one or all of them might have had something to do with the attack.

“Before we begin, I must state that while I am The MacLeod, as you can all plainly see, I’m rather unprepared for the role.” Most everyone at the table either chuckled or smiled at the remark. “As such, I will have observers present. Some of you may already know Kadic,” I gestured at my elf. His chest thrust out as everyone looked his way as he stood at my right side. “If not for him, I would have died at the hands of muggles.”

“For saving any MacLeod from such an ignoble fate, you have our thanks, elf.” That came from Aunt Moire, who sat one seat to my right. “To lose any magical to a muggle is an insult, but to lose a clan member. That would require a response many in our world would not approve of.”

“Kadic is happy to serve. Kadic serves The MacLeod for all his days.”

I smiled at the elf; glad he was getting the recognition he deserved. “As I lack training in the laws and customs of our lands, Lord Arcturus Black will be observing this Gathering. Though only so far as we refrain from speaking of clan-only business.” Arcturus stepped into the room, though my attention was on the faces at the tables. Most kept their expressions schooled, but I saw that Chief Ewan MacAulay appeared less than happy about his presence. “While this is a break in tradition, Lord Black has, along with others, been educating me in how our world is governed. Both written and unwritten laws.”

“I request an oath,” Murdo said slowly. “One that Lord Black will not speak of anything discussed here today to any but yourself, Chief MacLeod.”

“An acceptable request,” Arcturus replied. He moved toward the table slowly, though made no move for his wand. That was because such a gesture could easily be interpreted as a threat towards me or those around the table. “Would a simple oath on my magic suffice, or do you require an unbreakable vow?”

I watched Murdo carefully. According to Kadic, One of my uncles had tried to enter the castle back when he had first found me, or possibly even before, and had been angry that they couldn’t get in. While none of the cadet branches would be considered close, they all could technically be considered my uncles. They might have hoped to claim my title, which based on the rumours I’d read in the Daily Prophet was going on in various clans that had lost their main branch at the Massacre.

However, there was no hint of distaste or surprise at Arcturus’ offer, instead, he seemed entirely unconcerned. “A simple vow will suffice, Lord Black. That you are willing to offer an unbreakable is a sign of your great character. For that, and your help with educating my nephew, you have my thanks.”

“While it was unexpected to learn of young Dòmhnall’s survival, I have to say I’ve found tutoring him far more rewarding than I would have expected.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Arcturus reach into his robes, yet my gaze remained on Murdo and the other cadet family heads. While it was unlikely, any of them might have had a hand in the attack that killed my immediate family, I couldn’t be sure. They might have given oaths to my father and would give them to me, but I wouldn’t trust them until they earned it. “I, Arcturus Black, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, swear upon magic, that nothing I hear here today will be discussed with anyone but Chief Dòmhnall MacLeod of the Ancient and Noble House of MacLeod, or any he deems worthy to learn of today’s words. Magica vivimus, magica morimur.”

A sphere of white light sprouted from the tip of his skyward-pointing wand. It expanded slowly to cover the entire wand and his hand and then dissipated into a silvery most with a loud, musical chime. That signalled that magic had accepted his vow, though I did wonder how magic judged a vow broken if the wording was vague. Undoubtedly, that was a reason that Arcturus’ choice of words here was clear and concise.

“On behalf of all loyal to Clan MacLeod, I thank you for the oath, Lord Black, and for the guidance you have given our chief in this trying uncertain time.”

Arcturus bowed slightly, with a regal grace that I swore I would one day be able to duplicate. “All magicals should work to protect each other,” he replied. “And while the connection is distant, your new chieftain has some Black blood within him.”

“Can we assume that it was the connection to our mother that brought you into contact with Chief Dòmhnall?” That came from Aunt Katrina, who reminded me heavily of Melania with how formal she was in her mannerisms.

“If I might, Lord Black,” I said, cutting in. While there was insult intended by my relatives speaking with Arcturus, I’d been warned that if I didn’t step in quickly after an oath was given, I risked showing weakness to those I’d summoned. Arcturus lowered his head and took a step back, surrendering the floor to me, as custom demanded. I turned to my aunt and smiled. “You are correct Aunt Katrina, in that the reason that Lord Black has been serving as my primary tutor since returning to the magical world. However, the reason for that relates to a second point I wish to reveal before we move further.”

I gave Kadic a nod and he clicked his fingers. I smirked, enjoying the look of surprise that came over the faces of most of those gathered as the paintings of my grand and great-grandparents were revealed. A few startled and shocked gasps slipped from the lips of my guests as my ancestors looked at them. However, what stood out was that there wasn’t a portrait of my parents.

Supposedly they were in one of the Clan vaults in Gringotts, yet when I’d received the report from Ranlor on the holdings of all vaults bar 243 and 343 there’d not been any mention of portraits. While the portrait of my parents might have been in one of those two other vaults, I hadn’t been able to access them yet. The Goblins could remove their locks, however, there was spellwork added to a secondary door that was beyond me. I’d spoken with my grandfather and great-grandfather, and they’d informed me that I needed to learn how to counter those runes, which they weren’t willing to teach me currently.

“Hello children,” Cassiopeia said, warmth in her voice. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Mumma?” Aunt Fiona asked, disbelief clear in her voice and face. Which was understandable as she was the youngest of my aunts, and had been four when her parents died. While there were some paintings of my ancestors throughout the castle, those hadn’t been imbued with the magic that had gone into the portraits I’d found in the Inner Library.

While those other paintings could interact with me, and shared a connection to these paintings, there was something different in the way the ones from the Inner Library behaved. Almost as if more than just the memories of my ancestors had been added to the paintings. I’d asked my grandfather and great-grandfather about it, but they revealed that wasn’t something I was ready to learn about. While I wasn’t happy about having knowledge kept from me – as was the case with the book on Fleshcrafting and the Ward and the MacLeod’s Grimoire, which was the book I’d discovered in the solar before gaining control of the castle – I understood enough to know that knowledge without wisdom was a dangerous thing, and was willing to wait. For a time.

“Yes, sweetie,” Cassiopeia replied, a warm, tender smile on her face. “It’s me.”

“You seem… oddly vibrant, Mother,” Katrina said slowly. I suspected she thought these were just general portraits of her parents and grandparents, which would make sense as those paintings did exist. Indeed, I’d added them around the castle so I could talk with my ancestors more readily than having to rely on these particular paintings.

My grandfather chuckled. “And if we are, what would that mean, hmm? Perhaps we could tell everyone present about the time you came to us, seeking our permission to marry Andrew, and how much you sweated and seemed unable to find the voice to do so? Or perhaps the way Moire acted when she told us she was pregnant for the first time?”

Katrina stared at the paintings as if seeing them in a new light. Slowly, after watching them for almost a minute, she turned to me. “How?”

“While I don’t know the exact spells used, I’m informed that it is a family magic known only to the sitting Chief,” I said slowly, aware that for my uncles and aunts, this was a shock. “One that grants these paintings more intelligence than what is commonly seen with other magical paintings.”

“I can confirm that they are far more, for lack of a better word, alive than any other imbued painting that I have ever encountered,” Arcturus offered. “To the point that my talks with Dòmhnall senior reminded me heavily of the debates we often found ourselves in. Both at Hogwarts, and in later years in the Wizengamot.”

“Aye. As much as I disagree with you on a great many things, I have enjoyed our talks,” my grandfather replied, earning a small smile and nod from Arcturus. “Though before any of our children inquire about how such paintings are made, it isn’t family magic, but magic linked to The MacLeod and no one else.”

“However, provided that today’s meeting goes smoothly, I’m willing to allow you to speak with your parents,” I added, knowing the offer would help the meeting go smoother. “Though, that will only come after I can be assured of your loyalty.”

“If these paintings are somehow more than standard magical portraits, you would hold the chance for us to speak with our parents over us?” Moire asked, an edge slipping into her tone as she leaned onto the table.

“I would. That I have revealed their existence to you is a break with tradition,” I replied slowly, not caring that the woman glaring at me could kill me before I’d even drawn my wand. “However, I won’t break with all traditions.”

Moire held my gaze, her eyelids twitching and for a moment, I wondered if perhaps she would not accept my terms. In a surprise to me though, she started chuckling, which soon evolved into full-blown laughter. I, along with everyone else, watched and waited until she regained control of herself.

“Forgive me. I mean no disrespect. You may be young, but you have my brother’s iron will.” I nodded, accepting her praise only to tense as Murdo MacLeod stood.

At my side, I felt Kadic tense as well, and I grew nervous as he moved silently around the table toward me. As he reached me, he dropped to a knee. As I watched, he slowly pulled his wand from a holster and then turned it, facing the handle toward me.

Understanding what he was doing, I extended my arm and exposed the torc. He reached up and placed his free hand upon the symbol of our clan. “Leis an fhuil agus an draoidheachd a tha a’ ruith trom fhìonain agus a’ chridhe bhuille an taobh a-staigh dhiom, tha mi a’ mionnachadh gu sòlaimte, le diadhachd gun stad, gun gealltainn chan e a-mhàin mi-fhìn ach cuideachd mo theaghlach dhutsa, mo cheann-cinnidh.”

The words were spoken slowly, carefully, but loud enough that everyone in the room could hear him as he pledged his fealty. As he spoke, I could feel a shift in the air, as if the magic of the castle, however old it might be, understood what was happening, and the torc grew warm. Yet this warmth wasn’t a warning like I’d felt when Arcturus had first approached the castle, but one that seemed to be wishing my magic responded.

I placed my free hand upon his and replied with the words my ancestors had taught me. “Leis an fhuil agus an draoidheachd a’ dol tro na veins agam, tha mi a’ gabhail ri do bhòid sòlaimte agus gad thoirt fhèin agus do theaghlach fo mo dhìon.” My words accepted his oath and brought him and his family under the protection of our Clan.

When I finished he smiled warmly at me, and then after slipping his hand free of the torc, stood and took a step back. “You are MacLeod of MacLeod, and my wand is at your command.”

I gasped as a wave washed over the room, vibrating through my bones, and rippling my blood. For the first time since I earned the torc, I felt the castle’s magic shift around me, accepting my uncle’s oath and recognizing his place within the clan structure.

A moment later, Murdo stood, and after offering me a smile, turned, and moved back to his seat. As he did, Katrina, Moire, and Fiona followed after him offering their oaths. However, theirs were slightly different since their children belonged to other families, and as such the parts of the oath covering their family were removed.

They were then followed by the heads of the other two cadet branches of the clan. Two lived on the Isle of Skye within walking distance of Dunscaith Castle while the third was based in Edinburgh, or at least Horizon Alley which was, from what I’d seen, a smaller area than Diagon Alley. Given the Diagon Alley in this universe was larger than canon, I was curious if Horizon Alley was the same size as the canon Diagon Alley.

Finally came the other four Septs: Clan bound by blood oaths to Clan MacLeod. Chief Ewan MacAulay was the first to step forward, and while he seemed reluctant to do so, he did swear his oath. I could understand that reluctance as he looked to be in his fifties, and his clan outnumbered mine – including the branches from my uncles and the three cadets – with Clan MacAulay being eighty-seven members strong.

None of the other chiefs of a Sept clan was as uncertain to swear their oath, and after Duncan MacDuncan had given his oath and returned to his seat, I looked over the group.

While it seemed impressive that I had three cadet branches, four septs and the families of my uncles sworn to me, I knew it wasn’t. Other Scottish Clans had more septs or cadet branches – Clan MacDonalds was the clan with the most cadet branches and Clan MacKinnon had the greatest number of Septs – to say nothing of the number sworn to some of the English Houses. That said, from the little information I’d been able to dig up or get revealed to me, while the Ancient and Most Ancient Houses of magical England had more Houses tied to them, there was less formality about it. At least compared to the Scottish, Irish and Welsh Clans, though for the latter, only two Ancient Clans existed as most had been destroyed or broken during the conquest of Wales by England.

“Since you have all re-sworn your oaths, I shall withdraw,” Arcturus said in that deep, regal tone he favoured for official business, yet there was an air of permission in his voice. While his house outranked mine, as he was a guest at these proceedings, he had to appear subservient, otherwise, it would undermine my authority.

“On behalf of our clan, I must express my gratitude for your assistance in this matter. Provided, there are no concerns that delay either of us, I shall speak to you at our next meeting.” Arcturus lowered his head to me and then gave the rest of the table a quick nod before departing the room.

“I must express my distaste for your turning to House Black for assistance,” Murdo began as soon as the door closed. The room was protected by charms that ensured no sound from within would slip outside and any attempt to listen on, or otherwise disrupt a meeting in this room – which was signalled by my sitting in my chair – would affect the torc. “Neither my family nor those of your sisters or the other cadet branches are unknown to you.”

“They aren’t. However, the decision to contact Lord Arcturus was taken by my grandmother,” I replied, which had everyone looking at the portraits.

“The events of the Summer Solstice were an attempt on our family and clan,” Cassiopeia began, having expected this question to be brought up early on. “Sadly, any portraits Aonghus and Kara may have completed are not stored in the castle. Based on the lack of facts, and the revelation from Kadic that an uncle of Dòmhnall’s came and tried to breach the wards, my cousin was the safest choice. While my husband and cousin have rarely seen eye-to-eye, Dòmhnall – agreed that Arcturus was highly unlikely to be behind the attack on the Clans.”

“I assure you, Mother, that while I attempted to floo into the castle after learning of the attack, I did not attempt to breach the wards.”

“Nor I,” Fiona added in agreement with Katrina. While their words sounded genuine, I placed more faith in the torc, and when it failed to react in any way to a perceived threat, I was willing to accept their words. Didn’t mean I was going to trust them though straight-up.

“I’m glad to hear that. However, the fact someone Kadic could only identify as my uncle – which suggests a reasonably close blood connection between me and them – tried to breach the wards, further played into my allowing Lord Arcturus to tutor me in the ways of our world.”

“While I… dislike that Lord Black was the one responsible for your introduction to the upper echelons of our society,” Chief Ewan said slowly, “I must praise him with how successfully he and others handled the reveal.” A small smile crept onto his face. “The reaction of Minister Leach was something I will treasure for some time.”

“Aye, he looked as if he was about to lose it when you cast Lumos,” Donald MacAskill added, his smile matching Ewan’s. “That said, I must ask if Lord Black will continue to supervise your education.”

“Lord Arcturus and his wife, Melania née MacMillan, have been my primary tutors for the last month. That said, both have other duties to attend, and as such with their support, I have been examining applications for private tutors.”

Finn, the head of the cadet branch based in Knock Castle, chuckled. “That sounds fun.”

“Perhaps not the word I’d use for it,” I replied, earning some laughter and smiles from the rest of the table.

“Forgive me if this seems callous,” Katrina said once the moment of levity was over, “but you sound remarkably mature for a boy of eight.”

I smirked, having expected that topic to come up reasonably early in the meeting. “Putting aside the events of this summer, including my short stay with muggles, most people I’ve been around over the last month have been adults. That and… what I’ve experienced did force me to grow up faster than I probably should.” With Arcturus, Melania, and my ancestors and others, I’d played off my odd maturity as how I’d often be, but pushed on by events over the summer. That wouldn’t quite work with my uncles and aunts who I had memories of from before the Solstice.

“That is the second time you have mentioned muggles, Chief MacLeod. If it isn’t too painful, might I ask what exactly happened?”

I lowered my head to Donald MacAskill, showing some thanks for him using my title. While I’d not expect those gathered to do that from our first meeting, it was still nice to hear them showing my title the respect it was due. Hopefully, over the coming decades, I could work on ensuring that respect extended to me as well.

“It was after the attack over the summer. My… my mother had given me a portkey, though I’d not known that at the time. However, during the… events of that morning, it was damaged and while it saved my life, it hadn’t returned me to Dunscaith Castle.”

As my extended family waited, I slowly ran them through the chain of events that had brought me into Kadic’s care. My ancestors had already heard this before, and all of them had sworn if they still lived, they’d have sought out the orphanage and -Statute be damned – removed it and everyone inside from existence. Piece by piece.

Somehow I suspected that feeling would be shared by my extended family once they heard the story. Which would, I hoped, help me build trust with them. I might have their vows of loyalty, but I wanted them to want to protect me not because of duty, but a sense of family and friendship.

… …

… …

“Fuck!”

The curse slipped from my lips as I raced toward the ground.

My arm came out and as the blades of grass became clearer, I dropped my shoulder, let go with my other hand and let myself slip from the broom.

I grunted as I slammed into the ground shoulder-first, and then bounced and rolled. I felt dirt slip into my mouth as my arms, legs and back clipped and bounced off the ground until I finally came to a stop.

“Fucking hell,” I cursed again as I blinked. The world was upside down, though as my body fell over one final time, everything shifted, and I realised I’d stopped upside-down. Yet even though I’d hit the ground with enough force that I should’ve broken bones, nothing felt out of place. Oh, I was hurting all over, but as I slowly moved my limbs, no spike of pain came suggesting everything was working reasonably well.

Now, I’d been told that magicals were more durable than muggles, but I’d not had proof of that. Not until the first time I’d come over to Le Domaine Noir and spent time with Arcturus’ grandsons. And of course, the first thing Sirius and Regulus had wanted to do was fly on brooms, and of course, I discovered that broom-flying wasn’t something I was either good at, or enjoyed.

“You ok?”

I blinked and looked up, seeing Magnus MacLeod hovering nearby. “Aye. Just enjoying the view.” He chuckled and flew off, rejoining the others in the sky.

Magnus was the only surviving child of one of my uncles - Cian, who had died at the Massacre - and Magnus was my defacto heir. While he hadn’t sworn an oath to me, as he was far too young - and wasn’t even at Hogwarts yet - I was willing to bring him into my circle of friends, such as it was, as he was the closest male family member I had. And a good possible ally to build for the future.

Now, since I was still spending time with the Black children, that had resulted in everyone gathering on the weekends to get acquainted with me. For most of the boys, at least those old enough, that involved flying around on brooms and having friendly games of Quidditch. Sirius was considered old enough to join in with us at six, but Regulus was too young, which was giving me time to get to know the future Lord Black. At least if he wasn’t removed from the family tree because of his mother’s actions.

Honestly, that had to have happened after Arcturus had died as while he wasn’t a fan of muggles, he seemed accepting of muggleborns. At least up to a point. Though there was the odd comment here and there about how they – muggleborns – needed to understand that the magical world was not the one they’d come from. Given the glimpses of what I’d seen and learned so far, I could understand that opinion. Yet, for all of it, since Sirius – at least in canon – hadn’t done something as drastic as marrying a muggle-born, removing him from the family tree, and order of inheritance felt like an odd choice.

Still, gaining time with Sirius, and all the various cousins I had, was fun, even if I fucking hated flying.

Some of the girls did play with us, but most chose to simply sit around and talk. I had spent time sitting with them, but after one afternoon, when I’d seen Melania and Aunt Katrina watching me with a certain sort of interest in their eyes, I’d felt the need to keep my distance from the girls. That said, I did enjoy talking with some of them. Erin Montague, who’d be starting Hogwarts next year, was interested in Transfiguration while Andromeda and Adele Lambert were curious about Charms. Though given that only Erin and I had wands, we were the only ones who could cast spells, but we were instructed to not do so on the chance we accidentally injured someone.

I pulled myself to my feet, ignoring the giggles of the girls, and boys too young to be allowed to join us, as I brushed the clumps of dirt and grass off my clothes. Once that was done I stalked toward my broom. It was a Comet 180, though it had been enchanted to limit its speed due to my age. I pulled the shaft out of the ground and brushed the clumps that were stuck to it even as the lawn shifted, filling in the hole the broom had made.

I glared at the broom as the sound of laughter rippled in the air above me. Looking up, I saw those flying ducking and diving around each other, chasing one boy who had control of the large training quaffle we were using.

“You’re not very good are you?”

I turned to see Narcissa had come toward me. Regulus was a few feet behind along with some of my younger cousins and some of the girls Narcissa’s age.

“Seems so. Either that or this broom wants to kill me.” A few of those with her gasped, making me wonder how much they knew about what had happened to my family. Narcissa though, smiled for a second before schooling her features. While the youngest of the Black sisters, she kept a tighter lid on her emotions than Andromeda. I couldn’t tell which one Bellatrix was more like as she was at Hogwarts – though I would see her, and my older cousins during the Winter Solstice break – but I suspected she’d be closest to her youngest sister in behaviour. “What brings you over to me?”

“I thought you might like to play with us. Perhaps a game of Name the House?”

I bit back a groan. Name the House was set up as a game to teach magical children to race against each other to recognize the badge of a house, and remember their words, ranks and, for older Houses and Clans if any were known to have family magic. While the game, if one could call it that, made it more interesting to learn about the various houses, it was entirely uninteresting to me. I had weekly lessons on not just everything covered by the game, but on the heads and heirs of each house, and which House historically was allied with who from Melania. The lessons were beyond boring, and while most of what I was learning was unneeded currently since I wouldn’t be joining the Wizengamot anytime soon, learning about the heirs would have some benefit once I started Hogwarts.

Of course, because of Emotionless Recall, the lessons were often unnecessary. Not that it stopped Melania or my grandmother from reviewing me endlessly about every major House in the Isles. But it did make the idea of playing a ‘game’ to learn the same thing extremely unappealing.

“That might be something less fun than flying.” Behind Narcissa, some of the others giggled. “However, I think I’ll watch while you and others play. The less time I spend in the air, the longer I suspect I’ll live.”

Narcissa gave me an odd look, one that was hard to place for a child, and then after nodding, turned and moved away. The group with her followed along, though a handful, like Regulus, hung back. Once I started to move, they followed, slipping in behind.

… …

… …