Harry followed Heir Black down the stairs and kept his expression neutral.
He had started the day in Hogwarts beneath banners, gossip, and the constant comparison of names on academic lists. He ended it walking through Black Manor beside Draco Malfoy. The shift still felt unreal.
At Hogwarts, the new generation of Blacks had changed the atmosphere of the castle.
They did not boast. They did not hex in corridors for attention. They dominated quietly. Their scores in both theory and practical examinations were consistently at the top. Their duelling form was clean. Their etiquette was sharper than most seventh years. They moved through the halls as if they already owned a future position inside the Ministry.
Sirius occupied a different space in Harry's mind. Reckless, sharp, occasionally brilliant, and permanently marked by Azkaban. Corvus had freed him; his compensation was over one million. Strangely, Sirius hated that topic. Harry had tested that boundary once at the platform with a joke about the one point three million galleons Sirius had extracted from those responsible for his imprisonment. Sirius's eyes had gone flat. The grumbling that followed ended the humour.
Narcissa Black was easier to understand, which made her more dangerous.
She had walked through Hogwarts as the professor of Wizarding Etiquette and disciplined the castle without ever needing to raise her voice. Her elegance did not soften the edge. Even her scolding carried pride like it was part of the lesson.
Then there was Corvus.
Heir of House Black. Lord of House Rosier. Proxy for House Malfoy even after Draco came of age. Harry had wondered why Lucius did not do anything about it.
Corvus felt like the real power behind everything. Bastion guards and Unit members reacted to him like he was gravity. Harry had seen the salutes. He had heard the tone shift when Corvus entered a room.
The upper years whispered from time to time about Corvus being the force that moved both the magical and mundane worlds like pieces.
Harry believed the whispers.
Thinking about Corvus Black without the beautiful Elizaveta Volkova was not possible, yet forced it out.
He remembered her sweeping her gaze across the Gryffindor table once. He remembered the instant lock of eyes and the stupid shock it had sent through his chest. He also remembered the Bastion guard who appeared as if summoned by Harry's stupidity and warned him with a look alone.
Harry had learned.
Only idiots poked Bastion guards.
Some seventh years had tried anyway when Volkova attended Hogwarts for her mastery studies. They had approached her for purely academic reasons. They had been corrected within seconds.
Harry did not want to be corrected.
Bellatrix Black sat at the edge of his thoughts, too. Beautiful, unhinged, and cheerful about violence in a way that made Harry feel like he was one wrong or right move away from a painful hex. Alice and Frank treated her like family, which did not help Harry's understanding of reality.
Arcturus Black was the last familiar name. Minister for Magic. Some people still called him interim sometimes, mostly Weasleys who liked pretending titles could be insulted into weakness. Harry scoffed at the thought. Magical Britain was a kingdom in everything but ceremony.
They reached the lower corridor. The stairs opened into a wide passage with doors on both sides, stone walls polished so well they reflected candlelight in thin lines. Corvus stopped in front of one door and turned without hurry.
His gaze moved from Draco to Harry.
"I want your oaths," Corvus stated. "You do not speak of what happens after this moment. You do not describe, draw, attempt to explain or share it."
Draco stepped forward first. He delivered the oath with perfect form, voice steady, posture straight, eyes lifted only when etiquette allowed.
Harry followed. His tongue felt thick for a moment, not from magic, from the weight of understanding that the oath would hold.
Corvus accepted both without comment and pushed the door open. Two braziers sat in the corners, unlit. A low table held a bowl of water, a small knife, and parchment folded in precise squares.
Corvus faced them with his hands behind his back.
"This is a shamanic ritual," he stated. "North American in origin." He continued to explain the details of the Ritual and what to expect.
Harry kept his eyes on Corvus's face. Draco's attention flicked to the table, then to the empty floor, then back.
Heir Black stepped back. Without a wand or any visible movement, two perfect circular arrays appeared on the stone. They formed as if the room had decided to display them. Lines settled into place with clean geometry and complicated runes that pulsed once, then steadied.
Harry's breath caught. Draco's eyes widened despite his effort to keep control.
Wandless and silent casting. Harry had watched professors do wandless work for simple spells. This was different. This was effortless.
Corvus motioned with two fingers. "Sit in the centres and relax."
Harry stepped into the left circle and lowered himself, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees. Draco took the right circle and mirrored the pose with stiff pride.
Corvus started to chant. The words did not echo. They sank into the stone. Harry inhaled sharply, and the air left his lungs. His vision narrowed. The room tipped, candles blurred, then the mansion vanished.
Harry hit the ground hard enough to feel the impact.
He blinked and tasted wet earth.
A forest surrounded him, dense and alive. Trees rose like pillars. Leaves held the night in layers. Somewhere nearby, something moved with a slow patience.
Harry pushed himself up to one knee. Moonlight broke through the branches in thin slices. It was not enough to see far, but it was enough to know he was being watched.
The feeling pressed at the back of his neck and grew stronger with each breath. It was not fear exactly. It was the awareness of a predator calculating distance.
Corvus's advice surfaced, short and cold.
'Be sure of yourself and do not make eye contact unless you intend to dominate.'
Harry closed his eyes.
He drew a deep breath and forced his heart to slow. He thought of Hogwarts lists and the way names sat above his. He thought of the hours spent studying until his eyes burned. He thought of the Auror Corps and the kind of man he wanted to become.
A hunter, he wanted to be a strong, not weak, not prey. Harry opened his eyes with hard determination and started walking. The forest did not resist him. It flowed around him. Birds nested in branches above, silhouettes that shifted slightly as he passed. For a moment, he wondered if he wanted a bird form, something fast and distant.
The thought died; he did not want to be away. He wanted to feel the thrill of the hunt. The stalking presence tightened.
Harry stopped.
He turned his head slowly and forced himself to observe. He tracked the leaves. He tracked shadows. He listened for breathing that did not match his own.
A small movement to his left made Harry focus. The bushes parted without sound.
A leopard crouched there, muscles coiled, eyes fixed on him like he was already measured and owned.
Harry felt a tug low in his chest, like the animal had hooked something honest inside his soul.
He thought of his father's stag form; he respected it, but he would not choose a Stag as his animagus form. He wanted to be a predator, a hunter, a carnivore.
Harry lifted his gaze and locked eyes with the creature.
The forest fell silent.
The leopard's stare hit him like a weight. It pushed against his mind and tested for weakness. Harry pushed back.
Minutes blurred.
The animal spirit pressed harder.
Harry held.
It turned into a war of will, exhausting and quiet. A contest of who would accept being lesser. Harry's hands clenched into fists. His breath came shallow. The leopard's eyes did not soften.
-
He woke in the ritual room with his head heavy and his mind scraped raw.
His body remained seated, but every muscle felt like it had fought for hours.
Draco was already awake. He stood near Corvus with restless energy, talking too fast for someone who cared about etiquette. His excitement leaked through his controlled posture.
Corvus sat in an armchair that had not existed when the ritual began. The chair looked perfectly normal now, as if it had always been part of the room.
"A good choice, Potter." Corvus's tone stayed even, but his eyes held a faint interest. "I expected you to hesitate. You did not."
Harry dragged in a breath and forced his voice steady. "Heir Black."
He needed one answer before anything else.
"How am I not feeling your Legilimency probes?"
Draco scoffed, and Corvus ignored the question. He stood. The armchair vanished the moment his weight left it, leaving only bare stone.
Corvus stepped to Harry and watched him like an instructor watching a student's stance.
"Shift," Corvus ordered and explained the steps in detail.
Harry closed his eyes, followed Corvus and when he was feeling ready, pushed.
Pain lanced through him for a heartbeat, then snapped into something else. His bones folded with a strange ease. Skin tightened into fur. His senses widened and sharpened.
He opened his eyes, and everything was more vibrant and sharp.
He was a leopard.
Corvus made him walk, jump, sit, run, prowl and shift back so many times Harry lost count.
Harry's head swam with the effort, but each repetition came easier. Control settled into his muscles like learning a new stance in duelling.
Corvus watched, expression unreadable, then murmured something about continuing Menkara's tradition.
Harry did not know what it meant. He stored it away anyway.
After a final shift, Corvus stepped back.
"It has been over five hours." Corvus's eyes flicked to the door as if he could already hear footsteps above. "Let us return before Bellatrix and Sirius decide to search for you."
-
Upstairs, the drawing room smelled of tea, cakes, coffee and patience stretched too thin.
Arcturus sat like he had been born into the chair. Narcissa's posture stayed perfect. Sirius's impatience did not fit in the room. Bellatrix looked delighted by the entire delay.
Alice rose the moment the door opened. Sirius moved with her. Frank stayed polite and controlled, but his eyes locked on Harry like he was checking for injury.
Harry stepped into the open space and tried to look normal.
He failed.
Energy hummed under his skin. Excitement sat in his chest like a trapped animal.
Bellatrix drifted toward Draco first and smiled with sharp affection.
"Are you in your animagus form or your human form now?" Her voice carried perfect innocence and zero mercy.
Draco's mouth opened.
Arcturus chuckled.
Sirius grabbed Harry's face and turned it left and right like he was inspecting a purchase. "So what kind of monkey is this form?"
They were more like siblings than cousins.
Harry pushed his hand away and glared. "Really, Sirius."
Arcturus cut through the noise with a calm that made the room obey. "What are their forms?"
Corvus lowered himself into the enlarged armchair.
"Give them space." The circle widened.
Corvus's gaze moved from Draco to Harry.
"Shift."
Harry glanced at Neville, at Alice, and at Frank, and wanted to see a reaction there. He wanted appreciation.
He shifted.
Green eyes scanned the room from a lower angle and found Draco beside him.
A silver fox stood there, sleek and proud, grey eyes sharp with irritation.
The fox's fur was mostly black. Silver white marked the tip of its tail and the edges of its ears like someone had dipped them in paint.
Harry's ears twitched.
That looked like Draco in every way that mattered. Torn between Black and Malfoy even while pretending he had chosen.
Narcissa stepped forward first, fingers reaching with careful permission. Sirius and Alice followed. Frank stayed back for a heartbeat, then moved closer with a reluctant smile.
Hands brushed Harry's fur.
Neville tried to climb onto him with the enthusiasm of a boy who had forgotten fear.
Harry considered growling.
He heard a small yelp beside him and froze.
Bellatrix had both hands on the fox's face. She bit one ear and squealed, voice high and delighted.
"Cute."
The fox stiffened in pure misery.
Bellatrix tightened her hold as if the fox might escape. "You are not allowed to shift back."
Draco's grey eyes met Harry's with a look that communicated one clear truth.
Help.
Harry stayed silent.
He was not ready for Bellatrix to change targets.
Arcturus's voice drifted over the chaos, calm enough to sound bored. He spoke to Corvus about an incident in Paris, a minor administrative inconvenience.
Harry listened with one ear while Neville clung to his side.
The new order moved outside.
Inside the mansion, the Blacks prepared a celebration.