Reclaiming the House of Black

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It has been nearly twenty years since Sirius Black ran away from 12 Grimmauld place. At the ripe old age of sixteen, he had run away from his Dark Arts obsessed pure-blood family to his best friend's house. And now, those twenty-one years later, along with his cousin, Andromeda, her daughter Nymphadora Tonks and his son Rigel Black, he was back.

And why would he be back at the house that he hates so much?

Because he had to. This was the only place that the Order of the Phoenix could reconvene in secret. This house had more protective spells on it than any other member could think of and with the additional parseltongue wards that Rigel had founded. It was as safe as Hogwarts and Gringotts.

"Well, here it is," Sirius said unlocking the door to 12 Grimmauld place.

Grimmauld Place was like it advertises. Grim. When Rigel stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness ofthe hall. He could smell damp, dust, and a sweetish, rotting smell; the place had the feeling of a derelict building.

He heard a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gaslamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet along, a gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents.

"Pleasant." Rigel drawled. "Didn't you say there was a house-elf dad?"

"Yes, I did," Sirius said raising an eyebrow. "Kreacher!"

An old house-elf apparted into the long hallway. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, itwas completely naked. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it and though it was bald like all house elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of its large, batlike ears. Its eyes were a bloodshot and watery gray, and its fleshy nose was large and rather snoutlike

Kreacher blinked at Sirius. "Master left years ago, Kreacher wonders why he's back."

Rigel raised his eyebrows at Andromeda, who shrugged.

"I'm claiming my house," glared Sirius. "Why don't you go upstairs and...clean something."

Kreacher stared at Sirius, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to tell Sirius to leave, but he grudgingly said, "Yes, Master," and began up the stairs, mumbling under his breath.

"Holly!" Rigel yelled and another house-elf came though this one was much younger and cleaner.

 "Master Rigel has called Holly?"

"Yes please, can you help Kreacher clean this house?" Rigel asked kindly

"Ohh yes, master Rigel!" Holly said excitedly at the prospect of cleaning a large townhouse.

"Well... that's done now who wants breakfast?" Andromeda asked.


As they passed the row of house-elf heads on the wall, Rigel heard a crash and turned around to see Tonks lying flat on the floor

"Sorry!" wailed Tonks, who was lying flat on the floor. "It's that stupid umbrella stand—"

But the rest of her words were drowned by a horrible, earsplitting, bloodcurdling screech.

The moth-eaten velvet curtains Rigel had passed earlier had flown apart, but there was no door behind them. For a split second, Rigel thought he was looking through a window, a window behind which an old woman in a black cap was screaming and screaming as though she was being tortured — then he realized it was simply a life-size portrait, but the most realistic, and the most unpleasant, he had ever seen in his life

The old woman was drooling, her eyes were rolling, the yellowing skin of her face stretched taut as she screamed, and all along the hall behind them, the other portraits awoke and began to yell too, so that Rigel had to screw up his face.

"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers —"

Rigel shot off a cannon blast from his fingers as the portraits quietened down, looking at him in shock.

"If I hear even a whisper from any of you, you'll be very sorry indeed," Rigel said dangerously, sparks coming from his fingers.

"And just who do you think you are, to demand that of me in my home boy?" Walburga's portrait sneered.

"I am Rigel Sirius Black heir of the Black family," Rigel said flatly.

"Sirius's son?" she yelled furiously. "Out! The House of Black does not entertain filthy blood traitors like you! Filth! Scum! Oh what a surprise, my filthy blood-traitor of a niece is also here! The shame of my flesh! Get out, Sirius and Andromeda, and never come back again! How dare you all befoul the house of my fathers –"

BANG!

Rigel was pointing his wand at Walburga's portrait, the tip glowing.

"Insult my parents again, Walburga Black, and you'll see exactly how proficient and talented I am in the Dark Arts," said Rigel coldly. "The wards you have put up might prevent the painting from being pulled out but I'd like to see how protected the canvas is? Or we could just burn this house down in an instant and not lose any sleep over it. If I use you as an example, the rest of the portraits will think twice before insulting my parents."

"Your blood-traitor of a niece married a mudblood, yes," Rigel sneered at the shell-shocked portrait. "But that woman actually produced a metamorphagus daughter. And my blood traitor mother is the Scion of House Sayre and Slytherin. After her family died, I inherited her titles. You should be honored that I have bothered to grace my presence in your home, Lady Black because I am Lord Slytherin!"

Walburga's eyes bulged out when she saw the heir ring on his fingers. "That blood-traitor you call your son is also the Lord of House Black," continued Rigel angrily. "I do not take kindly to anyone insulting the man whom I love as much as my own father. You will remain silent and go to sleep, is that clear, Grandmother?"

"Yes," said Walburga quietly.

Rigel pulled a silencing charm at her and pulled the curtains shut, plunging the corridor in silence.

"That." Tonks eventually spoke. "Was bloody brilliant."

Rigel shrugged. "I have my moments."

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