RWBY: The Lord Black

The Day Everything Changed.

They finally did it.

After so many dead... after so much blood was shed... they finally... finally did it. They killed The Dark Lord... the cowardly fucker known as Voldemort was dead. You can say whatever you like about that bastard, he was a deadly opponent.

But he was a true coward, since Voldemort was French for 'Runs from Death'. He made seven Horcruxes because of his fanatical obsession to achieve immortality. The dumbass really thought he could create Horcruxes without the tribute to Death, so you don't go insane? The Imbecile.

Lord Sionn sighed, running his hand through his hair. While the War was won, the amount of lives it taken was... regrettable. Sirius... Alastor... Ginny... Ron... Dobby... So many lost... Harry and Hermione were supporting each other during this time, and finally admitted their true feelings.

'It's about time.' Thought Sionn, breathing in some ash... the battle took place at Hogwarts, and a sizable chunk of the school was blown to hell. The fires were being extinguished now, survivors were being pulled from the rubble and treated... while corpses were being identified.

The Lord Black adjusted his long and tattered black coat, the silver lines that created a floral pattern was torn up in places, the color was broken here and there, and the coat tails had holes in it from the various spells flying through the air. As he stood, he remembered the family motto, 'Toujours Pur' or in English, Always Pure. He had a lot of work to do,  bodies to burn, lives to ruin, whiskey to be drunk, and families to make extinct.

For those who didn't  know who he was, he'd make them know. He was Lord Sionn Morgan Lunar Black, patriarch of the Black Family, damn it!

Sighing, he started to leave, his black boots crunching the ash that was coating the once prosperous garden. He holstered his wand, even if he didn't need to. The wand was created by him from Elder Wood, with the core of Basilisk Venom, Werewolf Blood, a Vampire's heart, and his own blood. It made the wand extremely powerful, extremely dangerous, perfect for Dark Spells, and will obey only him. It also had the side-effect of being able to materialize to him as long as it wasn't noticed.

"Hey, Sionn!" Exclaimed a familiar voice. Turning around, he saw it was Harry. He looked surprisingly well... besides the torn and bloodied appearance.

"Yes, Lord Potter?" Sionn replied, placing his hands into his pockets, and looking straight into Harry's eyes.

Harry paused, partly because of his title being said, and the fact The Lord Black was seemingly staring into Harry's soul. Shaking off the creepy and seeming hereditary ability, he continued. "Where are you going? We still have people to help!"

"I have my own duties!" Exclaimed Sionn, confidence in his words. "Like what?" Asked Harry, confusion radiating from him like waves.

Harry immediately regretted asking the question. Perhaps it was Sionn's tone, perhaps it was the manic grin, or the madness in his eyes, but Sionn had projected an aura of such insanity it made Harry wish Draco Malfoy was Lord Black instead.

"Bodies to burn, lives to ruin, whiskey to drink, and families to make extinct! WHAT ELSE!?" Yelled Sionn, whose voice was interwoven the Black Family's magic and insanity. The proclamation by the young lord made all who heard it immediately back away, and have their hands near their wands.

Taking a breath, Sionn reeled back the magic and insanity, and swiftly turned around, and continue walking. The crunching of ash beneath The Lord Black's feet was all that was heard in the now silent battleground...

'What do I do after my current goal?' Thought the Lord, his eyes now vacant, and maneuvering on autopilot now. 'So many have been lost... The Black Reputation is in shattered remains, and many will be gunning for my head... perhaps... perhaps Castle Black holds the answer.'