CORVUS

Prologue, intro, characters

Harry Potter was a curious lad. He liked to know exactly what was happening and when it would happen, and he liked to know about where his friends were and what they were doing; some may call him nosey, but Harry was anything but.

He was not normally intrusive, or at least he liked to believe that he wasn't, but Sirius Black had been avoiding the drawing room at Number twelve Grimmauld place, and the overwhelming curiosity was gnawing at his conscience.

So, one afternoon a week after his arrival, Harry  gently shouldered open the door to the drawing room. It wasn't locked, which was surprising, and the door was oddly silent considering the rust that resided on its hinges.

The room itself was the same as every other; green and musty. The curtains were moth eaten and threaded, barely covering the windows and laced with mould. There was a cabinet, tall and towering and filled with suspicious looking objects that glared down at Harry through hooded eyes and tangled fringes. There was no carpet, just dusty floorboards that creaked when you stepped on them and a singular, matted rug.

But perhaps the most significant part of the room was the ancient tapestry that hung across the far wall; it was dusty and worn, and some parts of it were scorched, but it was enough to peak Harry's interest.

Slowly, he inched closer. Hesitantly, he allowed his fingers to scan the threadbare fabric, gently tracing over its finer details and wiping away the layers of grime that resided in the exhausted material. It seemed to depict the Black family tree, Harry realised as his eyes came to rest on the faded silver lettering that sat dully on the tapestries left side, and he suddenly came to remember what Remus had said about Sirius' family a couple of days ago.

'It would be best if you don't ask any questions, Harry. Sirius isn't too fond of his old family home.'

"The family tapestry." A voice sounded from Harry's right. Sirius was stood in the doorway, his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. Harry flushed. He opened his mouth to apologise, but Sirius held up his hand to silence him. "Don't apologise, I was going to tell you anyways."

Harry nodded and turned back to face the tapestry. Sirius' footsteps sounded behind him.

"What is it?" Harry asked unsurely as Sirius stepped besides him.

Sirius chuckled bitterly, "That's the family tapestry, Harry," he placed a chapped hand on the fraying material and scowled in displeasure, "It's a family heirloom. All pure blooded families have one, and they're all on here somewhere."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned, stepping further towards the tapestry.

Sirius sighed, a faraway look in his silver eyes. "The Black family we're blood supremacists, the lot of them. They would do anything to keep the bloodline pure, even if it meant marrying into your own family. There were some exceptions, though." He smiled wistfully and pointed to a charred burn mark at the bottom of the tapestry, "That's me. I was disowned for being a blood traitor and for. . . other reasons. I ran away when I was sixteen."

"Where did you go?"

"Your fathers." Sirius smiled, "I was always welcomed at the Potters, and they took me in without even asking questions. Not a day goes by when I don't miss James."

Harry allowed a small smile to grace his lips, but then his eyes caught on the two names that sat besides his godfathers. "Who're they?"

"Regulus, my idiot brother." Sirius sighed, "He was younger then me, and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded. He died when he was eighteen. Voldemort's orders."

"And," He continued, "That's  Corvus, he was the youngest. He was only four when I left, and was fathers favourite. I never did find out why."

"Where is he now?"