Harry Potter: Altair Black. Son of Asmodeus

The matron addressed Altair, who looked at her confused. She made him sit down on a conjured chair and began casting spells on him.

"You shouldn't be able to move," she said, surprised, though somewhat accustomed to it. "Didn't they bother to check?" she asked, looking at the headmaster and Lily sharply.

The former smiled, and the latter hung her head in shame. Harley looked at him like a frightened puppy, as if he should have checked him first. Altair understood that his priorities lay with one of those responsible for his brother's death.

"Their attention was elsewhere, Poppy," Altair said. Honestly, even he hadn't paid much attention to her physical condition. The matron looked at him sternly for using her first name, but didn't correct him. The black-haired man considered visiting her later to relive old times.

"Broken ribs, burns on your abdomen, oh, Merlin. I'm surprised your hand didn't explode. Did you catch a bombarda with your palm?" she asked dryly. "You're so reckless, always rushing in without thinking," she began to work on his wounds, finding more and more.

"Will he be okay, Madame Pompfrey?", Daphne's eyes looked at him worried.

"Daphne", Lyra scolded her. As she has been doing lately. She looked at him too, but didn't say a thing.

"He'll be okay", the healer said.

While Poppy healed him, the others didn't stand still. Sirius began to interrogate Peter. The reunion of old friends was not a happy one. Sirius seemed to be holding back as much as Lily, Harry was his godson and he loved him. He repeated the same questions Dumbledore had asked. He added a few more, focusing on how he escaped from Azkaban. It was similar to how Sirius escaped in the books.

The man seemed to shrink in front of his former friend, without much bravado. Sirius was mechanical, not letting his emotions interfere too much even though everyone knew how angry he was. The new Lord Black didn't have the mischievousness that Altair had known in Diagon Alley months ago.

"Nonsense! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead. Pettigrew must be delirious," the minister said. "The years in Azkaban leave no mind intact. He must be as mad as Bellatrix," he said tactlessly, ignoring the fact that her two children were in the room. "This must be a plot, a plot against the Ministry. Bellatrix is behind it all. Poor Lucius was already a victim of all this," the man looked at Altair with disdain. "Perhaps we should interrogate Lestrange's son," he said, and the Aurors prepared to move against Altair.

"Don't overstep your bounds, Cornelius," said the headmaster calmly.

"I am the Minister of Magic," he said pompously.

"And I," he said simply, "am Albus Dumbledore."

The Minister of Magic calmed down at his words. He looked at Altair one last time before turning toward the door. There was no weight in his actions, only that of a man running away.

He turned to Sirius. "Black," he called, not caring that he now held the title of lord of the house. "Take Pettigrew to the outskirts of Hogwarts. He will receive the Dementor's kiss, and the nonsense he said will be ignored. He was simply following Bellatrix's orders to recover her children. Arcturus was his accomplice, defeated by Albus Dumbledore and... Altair Asmodeus," he said the second name with sarcasm.

"Altair Black," said the boy.

Such contempt was bothering him. The people at Hogwarts had stopped bothering him, but outside the castle, it was a different story; he was still the son of a Death Eater.

"Your father—"

"He's Altair Black, Minister," said Sirius. "I think Lord Black would know it better." The minister bit his tongue.

"Whatever," he muttered angrily. He left with the Aurors behind him.

"Well, Wormtail," said Sirius. "Time to die," he said with satisfaction as he winked at Lily. He left the room quickly. The rest followed him. Lyra glanced at her brother; she didn't take the old minister's words well. Daphne looked at her wounds with tears in her eyes, which Altair knew were fake. He didn't get her game.

The room emptied until only Altair, now healed, and the old headmaster remained.

"Altair. I will conceal your involvement. This attack proves that Voldemort is after you, and I think he should underestimate you. We don't want him sending a dragon after you next time," he said with a hint of amusement.

"I agree," he didn't want any surprises. His last UL measurement, known to all, was 30,000, which already placed him above most people.

"If you had to guess how Voldemort is still alive..." he began slowly.

"I wouldn't guess. I'm a man of science," said the young man. "It may be thanks to me. I'm longer-lived than normal," possibly because he had a decomposing body instead of a baby one. "Or he tied his soul to earth. There are vague references in the Malfoy library to methods of that kind. They prevent his soul from leaving this plane," he couldn't mention the Horcruxes directly.

He had avoided that subject entirely. Honestly, he forgot about it. Before, he didn't have the strength to consider it important. Then he went through a period of ecstasy when he discovered how he could become stronger and stronger. Then his father came along and his attention was completely focused on him, on becoming strong enough. Voldemort didn't seem so threatening compared to his father.

"The Malfoys have books like that?" asked the headmaster, raising an eyebrow. "Can I borrow it?" he asked.

"I'll have Narcissa send it to you, sir," the old man nodded with satisfaction.

"I have the same suspicion as you, Mr. Black," he didn't think it appropriate to hide any information. "I believe he made objects that bind him and prevent his soul from leaving this world. I believe he made more than one. Two have been destroyed," he took a small diary from a drawer and handed it to Altair. It was bound in black leather, and its pages were yellowed and old. There was a large hole in the center, from which ink, now dry, seemed to have oozed out. "Tom Marvolo Riddle" was written at the bottom.

"Tom," he laughed at the Muggle name.

"A story for later," said the old wizard. "The second one was tonight."

"The locket," Altair said, and the old man nodded. "A diary and a locket... not exactly what I imagined from the greatest Dark Lord of all time. Maybe he'd get along well with Lavender," he said wryly. Dumbledore's lips pressed into a firm line, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Now you should go back. It seems that Lyra, Lily, and Harley were worried about you." He didn't mention Daphne, as if he knew she was pretending to get his attention.

"I remember my mother mentioning a cup in the Lestrange vault..." said Altair, weighing his words. He had ignored the presence of the Horcruxes; it was time to start collecting a few. "One that was given to them by their teacher to be kept safe. It may be one of these... ankles. I'll try to get it back," he would need Lyra for that.

"Thank you," said the old headmaster with a sigh.

"I'll use the Malfoys to investigate further," he said as he left.

"Be careful. We don't want to alert Voldemort that we know about his trinkets," said Albus.

The old headmaster considered looking for his old friend, Horace Slughorn, to ask him about the matter. He had always been close to Riddle when he was a student. Too close, he was his favorite, it wouldn't surprise him if he had told him about those gadgets.

"I'll take that into consideration. If you discover anything, it would be nice if you would share it," he said.

"I will," Albus said, looking at the young man with confidence. Not as his equal, at least not yet, but probably soon. He regretted a little putting that burden on his shoulders.

Altair left the headmaster's office. He didn't get very far before McGonagall almost ran him over. Behind her came Lily. The deputy headmistress ignored him as she hurried toward Dumbledore.

His eyes questioned Lily: "Pettigrew escaped," she said. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction. "Sirius was too careless, and he turned into a rat... a shame," she explained. There was not a hint of anger or irritation in her gaze.

"A real shame," the black-haired man played along.

The redhead approached him. She put her arm around his neck and forced him to lower his head. She kissed him on the cheek, very close to the corner of his lips. They looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity before the sound of glass being hit interrupted them.

Altair looked at Lily's robe, smiling. The teacher walked away, and if she cared less about decorum, she would have been jumping for joy.

'I won't need the Malfoys after all,' he thought with a smile, as he searched for Harley on the Marauder's map.