The Eastern Empire

Chapter5: The Guardian

Little by little, the Blacks took their habits. Every morning Alexander happily met his friend Draco. They attended Katrina's lesson and then played together, or worked on their secret plan. Alexander was learning fast. He was getting better and better at his mother's language. Draco was having more trouble, but was clinging, refusing to give up as his friend arrived. It was the same for reading. The black son was now able to read small books alone when Draco was still learning the letter-sound report. When he noticed these differences, the Malfoy son felt ashamed and humiliated. He had wanted to his new friend, not accepting to be so advanced, but he had not told him anything. He had talked to his father one night while he was alone by the fire.

- Dad. Why Alexander learns better and faster than me? I'm dumb ?

Was he the one who had duped Crab and Goyle so much for their supposed stupidity, in this position against Alexander? His father cut him off in his thoughts, beckoning him to approach.

- No, Draco, you're not stupid, on the contrary, you're a very intelligent little wizard.

Speaking, he had put his hand on the little shoulder and looked into his son's gray eyes. He read the doubt and the fear of disappointment.

- Alexander is very intelligent, more than any other little wizard of your age. You will always have to work harder to achieve a less brilliant result than him.

The child's eyes veiled.

- But you will overlook all the other children. At his side, following his steps, you will dominate your fellows. Do you know what Crab, Goyle or Pansy do while you work? They only play. Look at you, you are barely four years old and you try to learn to read. You will not get there right away, you'll get there after Alexander, but before everyone else. Will you agree to be the second if it allows you to dominate them all?

And Draco imagined himself right and proud, alongside Alexander, rode with him on a basilisk, wand in hand, dominating an army of wizards. Yes, he might never be superior to his friend. But he would beat everyone else. After all, his father himself was the second of a powerful wizard and all feared him.

Seeing the resolution appear in the juvenile look, his father nodded.

- I'm proud of you Draco.

From that moment, the child was no longer jealous of his friend. He stared at it as a goal to reach, a level to match.

Sirius on his side finally met his brother. The reunion was cold. The latter did not seem pleased to have learned from the press the existence of a Black heir. He explained to him that he had betrayed Voldemort out of respect for his name: one Black did not lower himself to serve another. Sirius wanted to believe it, but he did not. The risks were too strong, the doubts too present, the warnings of Bellatrix and Lucius resonated in his thoughts. He could not afford to tell his younger brother everything he had done with other family members. It was with a heavy heart that he said goodbye to him, suspecting that he would not see him again for years.

Alexander soon met his great grandmother Anastasia. The old woman, her gray hair and her face marked by the years, impressed him with her presence, her aura. She spoke to him of long hours of the beauty of winter, the cold of December, the balls given by Emperor Nicholas II when she was only a little girl, the power of Rasputin, the beauty of his mother, whom she had only seen through portraits. After completing her father's etiquette lessons, she took over and taught her the Court's protocol.

The days and weeks passed and the Black - Sirius palace itself admitted that it was way too big to be called a manor - was once again full of life. Alexander and Draco drove the house elves mad, yet they seemed to love them to see how much candy and cakes they offered them discreetly. The children let out their many laughter, Sirius amused himself by summoning his cousin Bellatrix on any occasion, in which case Alexander could guess his dissatisfaction from the library, but strangely, she was still there at night, to dine with them. Walburga learned that Anastasia gave lessons to her grandson and saw him daily, strangely enough, she began to appear every day for tea time and then stayed until dinner. Sirius wondered about this attitude one afternoon, surprised by this new fad of his mother. It was at this moment that he understood what his accession to Lord Black had meant to her. As head of the family, he inherited all the property Black. She had left all her homes, all her homes.