The Heirs of The Noble House of Black

Chapter 4

The Hogwarts library was the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on. He had spent much of his younger years perusing the libraries and bookstores of muggle London, even going as far as to getting a part time job in one of the bookstores near the orphanage (being surrounded by books had always been a comfort to him), but not a single one compared to this library- wizards did everything better he supposed. Thousands of shelves stored tens of thousands of books, some so new that the covers still gleamed whilst others looked so old that the most featherlight touch might make them crumble. Plush sofas were interspersed throughout the library to read on, as well as numerous tables that students sat working at, already getting started on their essays even though the first week was barely out. Extensive passageways of shelves led off to private reading nooks and workspaces, entwining with each other in a way that made Tom sure that even some of the seventh years must still get lost.

Tom's fingers itched with anticipation, there were so many secrets and answers hidden in these shelves, so much unknown magic to explore, even he might not be able to read everything here before he finished his schooling. He bypassed the sections on muggle literature, dragons, magical inventions of the 20th century and even tore himself away from the defensive spells section (although not without making a mental note to come back to it another day), before he found what he was looking for. He pulled out several books in the genealogy section, and several more books, newspaper articles and magazines from the "British wizarding society" section, and carried the giant stack to the nearest table.

Hours soon passed by as he absorbed the information. The Sacred 28 families could have their wizarding genealogy traced back hundreds of years. Tom skimmed over some of the names, but mostly focused on the last 2 or 3 generations of each family. These were the people who he might encounter, these were the people he needed to get in with. He cross-referenced the family trees with tidbits of information that he found about individuals in newspaper articles and society magazines, slowly building a well of facts in his mind, bringing them together to create a meticulous tapestry of their history. There were lots of articles about the heads of the favoured four families, everything from their business deals, to their political influences within the ministry of magic, to their parties and balls and their rubbing elbows with people of influence from all around the world. Tom could picture the glamour of it all as a wave of jealousy crashed over him. The people surrounding him now had grown up with wealth that he could not even begin to comprehend, having the best of everything for all of their lives. It couldn't be further from his own upbringing, rotting away in that filthy little orphanage, surrounded by muggles who didn't understand him, who ran away screaming if he dared to show too much of himself or what he truly was. But he was a wizard, he was meant for more than that life, he had always believed that deep down, no matter how much Mrs Cole had tried to stamp it out of him. And if he played his cards right, these people could all be a precious, once in a lifetime opportunity, one which would change the trajectory of his life for good. He had to befriend them. He had to get them eating out of the palm of his hand and prepared to do whatever he said.

It wouldn't be that hard. Why, he had already enraptured Bellatrix, and all of his roommates were friendly with him. He had somehow managed to get in with the most useful people without even trying, but Tom had always had a knack for getting in with the right people. There was one glaring flaw in his plan, however, and her name was Lyra Black.

***

After 6 hours in the library, Tom forced himself to put his books away and head down to the great hall. It was nearly 8pm and there was barely anyone left inside, the last trickle of students finishing up their dinner before the magical tables stopped serving food for the night. Tom rushed over to the Slytherin table, happy to see the Rosier twins still there, talking intently to each other, so deep in conversation that they seemed to have forgotten about their food, plates still half full in front of them. He slid onto the bench opposite them and quickly began piling his plate with food, his appetite hitting him all at once as the delicious smells wafted into his nose.