Throughout this entire time, the entity in question had been residing at Hogwarts, right under our noses!
Upon encountering Sylvia and Bellatrix this morning after breakfast, I escorted my cousins to their residence and handed them over to their parents before proceeding to Alfonso's abode. Upon my arrival, I promptly apprised Alfonso of the newly acquired information regarding the elusive demon we sought.
I cannot provide any concrete evidence to substantiate my claims, but I am convinced that during the tenure of Armando Dippet as Headmaster, an unidentified individual has been concealed within the confines of Hogwarts since his final years in office. This individual has successfully circumvented the school's surveillance mechanisms, and the castle's protective wards have detected the presence of this unregistered guest, which is no small feat!
Previously, during my visit to the Blacks' residence, shortly after Nigelus recounted to me the events surrounding his predicament and the involvement of Dippet, the predecessor of Dumbledore at Hogwarts, I dispatched a message to my extradimensional realm, addressing it to the rapid response team of my clones. The message provided detailed information regarding Nigelus' experience.
In response, my archenemies promptly initiated a search for the individual who had been involved in the operation aimed at overthrowing the school that now belonged to me. This individual possessed the ability to bypass the castle's defenses against unauthorized entry, allowing them to playfully circumvent the security measures.
Meanwhile, I, residing in the Brans' manor in Vienna, embarked on the task of studying the device known as an artefact, which serves as a conduit for capturing souls and also functions as a filter for intercepting destructive energy within the connection that extends from the Hogwarts altar to the headmaster's office.
Upon first sight of the artefact, resembling the work of a novice shaman, several aspects immediately captured my attention and caused me concern. Firstly, the skull was that of a living vampire, which had been active only seventy years prior. The witches and the Church, including myself, were certain that vampires had been eradicated three centuries ago, if not more. Secondly, I was utterly perplexed by the runes used in the creation of the artifact. Although they were unfamiliar and incomprehensible to me, my divine essence, coupled with my deep connection to the infosphere, allowed me to perceive their potential. My perception of these symbols left me in awe. These unknown runes, at the very least, are not inferior in power to the sigils employed by the Aryans, the ligature of Sidov, the cuneiform of dwarfs, or the serpentargo of nagov. This suggests that the creators of these runes hail from a highly gifted magical race, with a civilization spanning countless millennia.. But it was not the mere existence of such a rune language and an unknown race that surprised me, for I was not filled with false notions of my own enlightenment. What truly astonished me was the fact that I encountered them first at Hogwarts!
The merging of the realms had ceased tens of thousands of years ago, leaving behind only the remnants of the advanced fey civilizations, who departed from their respective worlds for the remainder of their existence. Yet, their presence and influence remained evident in the form of artifacts and traces scattered across both Earth and the Wizarding World.
My mind was ablaze with questions regarding this rune language, its origins, and its significance. It defied all my previous knowledge and understanding.
This year, Alfonso and I attempted to summon the Scorpion Man once again, seeking further knowledge about the demon. However, our efforts proved futile, leaving us with a prolonged period of waiting, at least half a year, before we could summon the "omniscient" demon without risking our own safety or that of the world.
The Dippet estate in France and the family home in England failed to provide any answers to the questions raised. Was there anything peculiar there, or had everything been swept away without a trace?
Alfonso was dissatisfied with this turn of events, particularly regarding Armando's assumed identity. The reason for this dissatisfaction lies in the fact that Dippet was an expert in numerology and a member of a guild that has been led by my brother for centuries.
Following my investigation, it became clear that the substitution of Armando Dippet's identity — whether the creature assumed his body or simply took over it — occurred when he was an idle fifth-year student at Hogwarts in the year 1652.
This revelation was a blow to my friend's ego, as it appears that he may not have been able to discern who personally administered the examination and bestowed the title of Master upon him, or even worse, concealed the true nature of the demon that resided within. We remain uncertain about the nature of this demon and can only conjecture about its true form.
The creature was exceedingly circumspect, and this was one of the factors that corroborated Dippet's suspicions. Upon assuming the guise of the young man, the fiend ceased to leave any physical evidence of his activities in this new persona. It was only through this subtlety that I was able to establish an approximate timeline for the disappearance of honest Armando.
Armando Dippet had been orphaned in his formative years. His mother passed away just before he enrolled at Hogwarts, and in his fourth year, his father — who had recently returned from America — met a mysterious end. Bastian Dippet ran a thriving trading enterprise that owned a fleet of a dozen large ships, which, in addition to carrying legitimate cargo, were also known to engage in piracy. Such were the times.
It is possible to attribute the young man's sudden change of personality to the transitional age and a family tragedy, when Armando found himself suddenly an orphan. However, in his estate, I discovered a cache of written parchments, which revealed a new identity that had taken the place of Armando Dippet. This new person was engaged in calculating the purpose of an unknown ritual using an obscure rune language. The parchments dated back to 1652, indicating that when he joined the numerology guild in Vienna, Armando had already been transformed into something other than himself. Alfonso, who was a master of demonology, could not discern any trace of humanity in this new being.
Another indication that Armando Dippet has ceased to exist and that someone else now occupies his place is the fading magic of the Dippet family's stone, which was discovered in the manor in France. For at least the past couple of centuries, the magic of the Dippet family has been unable to find an heir, so when I entered the manor and arrived at the altar room, I saw a rock devoid of life in the place where the ancestral stone once stood. There, I discovered a complex, multi-tiered, intertwining rune ligature consisting of forty-six chains, each containing over a thousand symbols. This entire splendor encircles the source of magic.
I was unable to fully comprehend the functionality of this enchanted structure, but I did manage to deduce some aspects. One of the primary purposes of these rune chains appears to be to replace the aura imprint of the creator of this magical creation, who is bound to a sophisticated system of runes based on the aura imprint left by Armando Dippet. His blood was used to create this composition.. The construct also assumed control over the manor's defensive systems and other magical functions, subsequently transferring control to its creator. However, I could discern only a minuscule portion of this construct, the work of an archmage, no less. There was no doubt in my mind that it was their handiwork; no one else possessed the strength or focus to execute such a complex task without interruption, supplying the requisite pressure and volume of mana required to create such a masterpiece of magical artistry.
I am also gravely concerned about the possibility of vampires still lurking in the vicinity. They may have detected this one.
Alphonso, spinning the vampire's skull in his hand, mused aloud.
It is indeed distressing news, yet it does not greatly perturb me. Were my knights previously capable of slaying them with ease, then it is no different now. However, there are now three hundred thousand witches in existence, and among them are over a thousand arcane masters. And let us not forget the inquisitors, the champions of the Creator, and the combined forces of the two Yarik empires.
You have amassed a remarkable power under your command! A few centuries ago, I could only imagine achieving the seemingly unreachable pinnacle of arcane mastery. At that time, you, Salazar, alone possessed such power in all of Europe. Yet now, with more arcane masters in Europe than magisters have existed in the past two millennia, I am compelled to reevaluate the world order I once knew.
And this he is still ignorant of the vast army of the undead and the dead (the undead being those who possess a soul and are not under the control of a necromantic construct), which have already managed to multiply and constantly replenish themselves with the materials available to Iolanthe.
But the combat strength of the forces at my disposal did not stop there, for there are also the unholy and other magical beings, as well as mystical forces, residing in the territories of Russia and Japan, who have sworn fealty to the new lord of their lands, Yaromir, who in turn is my vassal.
Even with such immense power at my disposal, I cannot help but feel uneasy at the thought of this entity. One cannot ignore the instincts of a god. Thus, I am compelled to continually strive to enhance my own combat capabilities and those of my subordinates.
For a brief moment, each of us immersed in our own thoughts, leaving Alfonso's office in silence.
Let us briefly divert our attention from contemplating what we cannot influence in these circumstances. Regardless of our efforts to unravel the enigma of the demonic entity, we require additional information to advance in our quest for its location and identity.
The only course of action remaining is to trace the footsteps of Armando's adventures and journey. Perhaps, somewhere along the way, new insights about this entity will emerge, revealing its origins and nature. I have already taken action in this regard. My illusory projections have explored the locations where the former headmaster of Hogwarts once tread, as well as delved into the lives of all those with whom he had long-term interactions.
I am confident that among these connections, there are individuals who are now under the influence of the mental construct that we have encountered on multiple occasions. Through their puppetry, we can speculate on the objectives and achievements that the entity may have pursued with their aid.
We sat in Alfonso's office for some time, sipping on Avalon ale, a beverage my brother greatly enjoyed, until Lubava joined us. Naturally, she would have been happier with the scene she witnessed here. Her intoxicated husband did not bring her joy, but in my presence as her suzerain, she refrained from reprimanding him.
I, as an archmage-demonologist who had already seen seven centuries of life, observed how Alfonso attempted to curtail our gathering and dismiss me, doing so in a manner that did not appear to be a direct rejection. I failed to comprehend that he had not been the head of this household for an extended period. I chose to depart on my own accord, swiftly bidding farewell to my brother, citing urgent matters that required my attention, and took my leave of my companion.
Observing the state of his life, I wondered if it was a reflection of his true circumstances or if my old friend were merely acting a part.? Following Alfonso's elevation to the status of archmage, I found myself precluded from accessing my friend's innermost thoughts and emotions in a manner that remained undetected to him. In the past, I had accomplished this feat surreptitiously and with regularity, effectively managing my environment to mitigate the potential risks I posed. This process occurred involuntarily, almost reflexively. With Alfonso no longer at my disposal, I am now reduced to speculating about his true sentiments and motivations.
Upon departing my friend's residence, I relocated to my island, settling in my beachside bungalow just a mere hundred meters from the shoreline.
I had one more minor task to attend to, which I extracted from my dimensional pocket. It was an unconscious Nigelus Black, the former Headmaster of Hogwarts and the former Lord Black, who was now in my care. I placed the poor man in a chair beside me, and we sat in the shade of a wide awning that shielded us from the scorching sun.
I did not hasten the awakening of Nigelus' consciousness, and as his soul adjusted to its new physical vessel, which was identical to his own but twenty-five years younger, I savored the salty iodine-scented sea breeze, accompanied by the rhythmic sounds of the waves, the soft sand, and the lush tropical foliage behind the lodge.
"Greetings, Nigelus. How does your newly rejuvenated body fare? Are there any areas of discomfort or irritation?"
"What?!" Black's gaze widened with surprise as he stared at me. He rose slightly and turned his entire body towards me. "And this time, he was choked by surprise, not by any physical discomfort, but by the shock of realization. So I wasn't imagining it or dreaming. I truly died and was revived by you, my lord?"
I remained motionless, providing no comment on Nigelus's obvious statement. Instead, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. What was the point in airy responses to a question whose answer was already clear?
Hah. Poor Black, I sympathized with him as I witnessed his state of shock. At that moment, Nigelus experienced a juxtaposition of two time periods in his mental, sensory, and astral memories. His soul was experiencing a duality of self-perception, as he simultaneously recalled being trapped in a trap of souls until a certain point in time.
Simultaneously, he recalled everything he had witnessed, heard, and attempted to feel through his casts of the three spiritual shells that formed the foundation of his portrait identity.
But it did not take long, and within a matter of minutes, Nigelus, the master of magic, regained his composure, leapt from his chair, and kneeled before me, uttering a ritual phrase which, if accepted by me, would bind him to my service as my vassal. Which I gladly accepted! Who, in their right mind, could possibly turn down the opportunity to gain a vassal in the form of an ordinary member of the Black family when they could potentially regain or reaffirm the title of Lord Black for themselves?
Moreover, if Nigelus were to assume the role of head of the family, he was willing to pledge an oath on my behalf. To be the suzerain over the Blacks in England was not just a significant achievement; it was considered virtually unattainable. The family had never before bound itself by vassal oaths, preferring to serve the Crown without any magical ties.. The Blacks may not be Dukes in the traditional sense, with vast private estates and powerful sources of magical energy at their disposal, but they hold a unique position as the most formidable and unyielding mages in the world.
I commanded my newly acquired vassal to rise and take his seat. "Nigelus, you are no fool, and you know that I did not bring you back from the dead without reason," I said. I saw the keen attention in his eyes as I continued. "Once you arrive in London and set foot on the threshold of Grimma Place 12, I want you to seize control of the Black family's power. When you become Lord Black, restore order to your family. I am not pleased with the state of affairs in your home. Have you ever seen daughters of the Black line used as bargaining chips for alliances or favors?"
To hear me say that one's kinsmen traded their children for fleeting favors and preferential treatment is like a slap in the face. In his lifetime, a man had to possess an impeccable personal reputation and come from an ancient and noble family to be considered a suitable partner for a maiden from a Black lineage. Moreover, he had to be physically attractive to the bride-to-be. As a result, there were quasi-jousting tournaments. But what am I saying? This was the state of affairs in their family during the Middle Ages.
Nigelus, as a silent observer, saw and understood all this perfectly well. He remained silent due to the seals of silence imposed upon his captive spirit, which prevented him from speaking about various topics, including the decline of knowledge and magic in society. This is why he was known among his kin as a taciturn person. The seal deprived him only of the ability to speak.. Nonetheless, this did not preclude him from scrutinizing the situation and the ever-tightening noose around the figurative necks of his kin and beyond.
"I assure you, my liege. I shall exert every effort, and soon, there will be no need for me to feel disgrace at the actions of my own blood. The Blacks shall be what they once were — proud of their accomplishments, status, and place in society. And should they take exception to this, I have but one suggestion for them — perish!"
Well, that's excellent news. Nigelus is now capable of achieving his goals, as he is even more powerful than he was during his life, having reached the level of a Master two decades ago. He was resurrected by me using the technique of time reversal, and now he is twenty-five years old, but not in the same way as when he was living, but rather at the age he would have been had he fully utilized the potential of his soul and ancestry to attain maximum strength.
The Blacks are an ancient lineage, and their lineage carries immense power. They have accumulated a wealth of valuable attributes throughout their history, which have been consolidated through blood magic and ancestral memory. It was a simple task for me to assist the former headmaster in dispelling the family curses that weighed upon his soul and providing the impetus for the discovery of his innate abilities, which he had been unable to unlock and realize in the past.. In addition to his prior affinity for dark magic, blood magic, and a latent predilection towards death magic, Lord Black, now ex-Lord and soon-to-be Lord, possessed a powerful metamorphic nature, which manifested itself in a marked aversion to the magic of transformation, making him a transfiguration expert.
"I am pleased with your demeanor, Black," I said. "However, before you can ascend to the pinnacle of your kind with renewed vigor, you must first acclimate to your newly acquired form. But first, call forth your wand. I perceive that you have a blood bond with it."
Upon my reminder that he had arrived without his usual concentrating tool, Black focused his attention, sensing a connection to his past wand, summoning it towards himself. A few moments later, with a distinctive pop, his wand materialized at his feet, as if apparating into existence.
As soon as Nigelus laid eyes on his wand, he promptly summoned it to his hand through the use of his telekinetic abilities. Despite not feeling anxious or threatened by my presence, for a magician from any era prior to the present day, being without a personal focus device is akin to a white man entering a ghetto without body armour or a squad of special forces. The absence of a wand can be uncomfortable for a wizard in the company of another.
Nigelus grasped the wand and gave it a flick, causing a mirror to materialize before him. His reflection in the mirror elicited a broad smile of contentment and self-satisfaction. As he examined his appearance from all angles, he experienced an unadulterated joy that surpassed even the moment of his own resurrection.
It was due to the fact that he had previously been afflicted by a congenital curse, which was quite potent, and as a result, he was compelled to employ a multitude of diverse elixirs and remedies in order to prevent his skin from appearing cadaverous and to eradicate the offensive odour, while simultaneously maintaining his physique from gaining excessive weight.
Now, he would no longer be required to ingest elixirs every few hours throughout the remainder of his existence, engage in ablutions using specialized formulations, or constantly uphold charms aimed at fat reduction, which detracted from his focus. It proved impossible to address his weight issue through elixirs, as they conflicted with the other elixirs he was consuming for the purpose of maintaining a healthy appearance and counteracting the malodorousness of his skin.
Once again, he knelt before me and inclined his head, expressing gratitude with servility and genuine reverence.
I express my gratitude, my liege, for your favor, and I pledge to bring my entire clan under your dominion as soon as I regain my position as their leader!
It was not the fact of my resurrection that I found most gratifying, but rather the chance to experience the delight of life free from the constant burden of the curse that had constrained me and tarnished my existence. For many years, I had spent three and a half hours each day engaged in procedures related to combating and mitigating the affliction, from the moment it manifested at the age of adulthood until my demise. There were times when I would disappear for days on end.
Rise, Nigelus, for I am not a sovereign who delights in observing his vassals prostrating before him. My role as overlord is not one that seeks to see my subjects bowing before me — images of my beloved wives, who had chosen me as their consort and dreamed of bearing me children, flashed before my mind's eye. Their presence, kneeling before me, evoked a different sentiment, always positive.
Nigelus, with a thousand questions, and a few more lurking in his mind, yet, mostly focused on my identity and the events of my past, realised the futility of his curiosity. He suppressed the impulse to delve deeper, acknowledging the propriety of his restraint.
With a sense of purpose, he understood the task at hand. Without uttering a farewell, only offering a brief nod before departing, he set off towards his home.
Well, well, what an impressionable young man! Under the pressure of his mission, he disregarded all precautions and safety measures, failing to verify the coordinates of his intended route home. Had I not intervened by providing him with an energy boost to compensate for the lack of mana required to traverse such a vast expanse, spanning multiple worlds and traversing the saline waters of the oceans, he would have arrived at his destination in the form of finely ground mincemeat, if at all.
The Black faction is perplexed, and I am still three hours from the time I pledged to return to my future students. What am I doing now? Might I be sleeping? I have been able to sleep for a few hours a week, at best, over the past few months. The rest of my time is spent either in a world of dreams with Maria or in a state of meditation and parallel trance, where I monitor and oversee the activities of my duplicates.
*** Nigelus Black. Grimmo Place 12. ***
"Ugh... what on earth are they up to in there?!" Nigelus muttered, spitting as he crossed the threshold of the house. He could sense the stale residue of family magic permeating the atmosphere, a scent that was far from floral. Instead, it smelled of stagnation and decay.
Nigelus's arrival was met with a ferocity that belied his intentions. His knock on the door, intended to announce himself to the "owners" of the house, was so forceful that it nearly shattered the door and wall. The impact of his knock reverberated through not only the door but through the entire house, shaking the very foundations that had gone unattended to for over half a century.
It was a moment that left me seething with indignation. What kind of leader was this, at the helm of the Black family? It had long been an unspoken tradition among the Blacks, that each new Lord Black, upon assuming the role, was expected to contribute to the upkeep and fortification of the ancestral home, located on Grimmo. This tradition had been observed for eighteen centuries, ever since the Nigerians settled in Londinium. But Nigelus had been the one to break this continuity. He had implemented the last modifications to the house's defenses sixty years ago, and yet Orion, his successor, was the third in a line of Heads.
Nigelus was unaware that when he had unleashed his magical power upon the house with all the fury of his anger, the birthstone bestowed upon him the abilities of Lord Black in an instant. This realization briefly registered in his mind as Black, eager to meet his heirs, made his presence known.
There was no doubt among the clan's magic as to who among the current members of the family possessed the most worthy head mark on their aura and was therefore Lord Black. On the day of his arrival at the ancestral home of Nigelus, all three members of the primary branch of the family were gathered at Grimmauld Place: Orion, Walburga, and Sirius, their heir who was one and a half years old.
The moment the mansion was struck, Orion, the head of the clan, lost his position and fell unconscious due to the sudden disruption of his connection to the source of power, leaving Walburga alarmed and horrified. Little Sirius, in his cradle, began to express his agitation in his infantile babble.
From an early age, Sirius had been partial to any form of commotion, and now that the house was trembling, including his confined cradle, he erupted in laughter and, clutching the bars, endeavored to further disturb his surroundings.
The voice of the unknown man behind the frightened woman sent a chill down Valburga's spine, and she attempted to respond with a series of defensive spells: Silentio, Deafening, and Binding. As she pointed her wand at the stranger, a wave of unbearable agony coursed through her body, leaving her writhing in agony. Even Crucio, a curse she had faced more than once as a result of her upbringing in a Black household, paled in comparison to the intensity of this pain.
This was a form of retribution from the family's magic for her attempt to harm its head, especially since it occurred within the concentrated power of the Black household. The severity of the punishment was evidently the highest possible, serving as a stark reminder of the consequences for such actions.
Ha! Nigelus had once thought that one could not be more disappointed in their kin. But, alas, he was proven wrong! He could not understand where the mandatory family education that was imparted to every member of the Black family had gone. This education included a brief course in blood magic that allowed any Black to sense a blood kin in their immediate vicinity.
To make matters even worse, the former Lady Black could not sense the head of the clan in Nigelus. For Nigelus, this was inconceivable, and he could not even imagine such a situation. How could any of his kin fail to recognize their head?
For Nigelus, Walburga's inability to perceive the situation as it unfolded around her was not an excuse. What was happening at the manor seemed like an attack, and it was a perplexing situation for Walburga.
As Walburga writhed and wheezed in agony, unable to even scream, Lord Black found it difficult to restrain himself from delivering further blows to her body. However, he acknowledged that the responsibility for the current situation did not solely lie with his errant great-granddaughter, but also with her parents, who had failed to provide her with proper guidance and upbringing.
Suddenly, an unexpected event occurred, lifting Nigelus's spirits. Sirius, unbeknownst to his father, had awoken in his crib and, with his childlike perception, understood that an unknown relative had assaulted his mother. This realization ignited his anger, resulting in a spontaneous magical outburst characteristic of children. Had Nigelus not possessed magical abilities, he might have faced dire consequences. Nonetheless, he escaped relatively unscathed, sustaining only a painful blow to the back of his head after colliding with the wall following a telekinetic force that had knocked him down.
After such a violent outburst, the child had exhausted all his energy and promptly lost consciousness.
"Kha... Fuck... Ugh... Strong as hell!" Nigelus muttered, but he was elated and even jovial. "A formidable defender! A true black diamond! You're fortunate I arrived in time, child. I won't let your parents squander your potential. I shall raise you myself!"
With each passing moment, Lord Black's excitement grew as he gazed upon the sleeping child, recognizing in him the true strength of their ancestry. The Black family's lineage held a secret, one that had made them renowned as one of Europe's most powerful. Even in their earliest days, they had been fortunate enough to acquire a half-demoness, whom the then-Lord Black made his consort. Through her, the family was blessed with the gift of metamorphosis, which would later become widely known and would periodically manifest itself in their descendants.
However, there was another gift bestowed upon every member of the Black lineage, albeit to varying degrees, granting them the ability to enhance spells and magical acts through the energy of sensual essence. This gift allowed them to convert the energy of the fifth layer into mana with remarkable efficiency.. In addition to the hereditary curse of madness, there is another reason why Blacks lose their rationality in battle and fall prey to bloodlust. Their intelligent spirits are highly mobile, and their sensory impressions must be immediately stimulated and accelerated so that they can generate a substantial amount of energy in the shortest amount of time. This energy then goes into the magical intellect of the gifted individual. In theory, any wizard could do the same thing. However, Blacks have a spiritual artifact that allows them to operate more efficiently; they do not have to expend their mental strength or focus on this process, and the transformation of their energy into mana occurs through an innate ability.
Sirius had just reached the pinnacle of his innate ability to convert spiritual energy into mana, which is why he was sleeping. He had drained the energy from his fifth chakra to zero in order to amplify his outburst, which he used to hurl his mother's attacker against the wall. It would take him a week to recover, during which time he would be moody, apathetic, and miserly.
However, the more frequently Sirius empties his fifth chakra, the more energy he can channel into his gift and strengthen his seventh chakra. This will make him a more powerful magician in the future. Firstly, it affects the sensual aspect of the soul. Secondly, the greater the frequency of use, the higher the efficiency. Thirdly, it strengthens the seventh chakra.
But for every advantage, there is a downside. In this case, it is a bit of a paradox.. From such emotional fluctuations, a child, without the assistance of qualified professionals from the outside, will grow up with an unstable and impulsive mindset, accompanied by numerous mental disorders. It is crucial to introduce the child to occlumency and other meditation practices aimed at self-awareness and self-control from an early age. This process should commence at the age of eight, when Sirius's personality will undergo rapid growth and development.
Nigelus was practically salivating over the infant in the cradle. The newly appointed Lord Black had made up his mind: Sirius Orion Black would be the heir to the Black family. He would not change a thing, but he would personally raise him. And if necessary, he would dedicate all his time to him, ensuring that Sirius would become a wizard deserving of standing at his side.
"Hmm… Things are not so bleak after all," Nigelus mused aloud. "At least the younger members of the family show promise as wizards, and while they may lack formal training, their intellect and understanding of familial values are commendable."
As Nigelus pondered the situation, he carefully moved the bodies of the late Lord and Lady Black onto the couches near the window. He then cradled the young Sirius in his arms, attempting to gauge his current wizarding potential and future as heir through intuitive means, relying solely on his own acute senses. Nigelus sought to assess Sirius's abilities beyond those already evident, conducting a rudimentary evaluation of his gifts.
There was something on the verge of perception, yet the fact that there were multiple instances of it rendered it impossible to discern its essence. One could discover the nature of his gifts through a ritual, but the extent of his power was somewhat ambiguous. If left unchecked, the child's potential rivaled that of Nigelus himself, which was promising. He would engage his heir in every necessary and feasible ritual, each of which would augment and expand Sirius' potential, albeit marginally!
Marvelous. Sleep now, young one, and as you grow older, Grandfather Nigelus shall assume the responsibility of your upbringing, molding you into a true Black!