HP: Harry From The Ancient House Of Black

"He might be the last Potter with enough blood to be a Black, but he's a squib!"

"Did you not hear me, old man? Godric commands it. The boy is no squib."

"What?" Hushed whispers from the other portraits floated around the room. "What did you say?"

"Something draws the boy's magic, Godric says. Even now, it is killing the boy," the old hat of Godric Gryffindor spoke solemnly. 

"I know not why Dumbledore has sentenced this poor child to die, but he must be saved."

"That blistering fool!" While Phineas had no real magic, the tip of his wand was firing off red sparks. 

He contemplated going to his portrait at 12 Grimmauld Place and telling the young Sirius Black of what had transpired, he was the boy's godfather after all. 

But the fact that he was a portrait did not make it any less clearer to him that a compulsion charm had been used on the Potter parents and a strong one at that. 

Sirius was too much in the grasp of Dumbledore to help, the boy would be recaptured and returned to the muggles. 

No, someone more secretive, and by far more Black was in order to save the child.

"Cassiopeia! Cassiopeia!" The portrait shouted as he slid into his third hidden frame. It sat in one of the more secret Black family homes in Berlin, Germany. 

Forsaken during the second muggle world war due to the threat of Grindewald it had been nearly forgotten by many, save for the last remaining member of the Black family besides Sirius. 

Cassiopeia Black has been born shortly after the first muggle war and had loved the German culture. Like any other Black she was trained and schooled on how to be a proper British witch, and her little black book proved it, but she had always found her way back to the German home, where her second little black book thrived. 

While her family had nearly been wiped out by the Dark Lord she had built herself up a place in Germany that many would kill for. 

If only she had someone to pass it along to. 

Being nearly sixty years old made finding a suitable husband difficult, let alone the thought of child bearing. 

The death of her sister made things even more depressing at the moment for the Black woman.

The portrait had been empty for some time, so the shouting voice of her grandfather came as a rather shock and for the moment made her forget her troubles. 

She glanced up from her little black book and stared expectantly at the portrait.

"I've just came from Dumbledore's office," Phineas panted, which was hilarious considering he wasn't even a real person, "That old manipulative man has finally gone too far. Too far I say!"

"And what has the old coot done now?" She was interested of course, but her grandfather's portrait coming to complain about the headmaster was all too common, well until recently. 

He had come to tell her of Dorea's death and not came back. There had been many times she had wished for him to visit and when he finally did she wished with all her heart that he hadn't.

"Apparently they intend to train the Potter boy everyone is calling the 'Boy-Who-Lived,' and yet they intend to dump the other one, Harry, on muggles!"

"What?!" Cassiopeia nearly screamed. 

That boy was blood! Never had she in her life heard of such a thing and yet here it was plain as day. 

The Potters, these muggle loving and so called Light family, were about dump their son away? Not even the darkest of dark families would do that! She nearly growled out her next words. 

"And why would they do this?"

"They have clearly been place under a compulsion charm and made to believe the boy is a squib, but that is not the case.," the portrait said heatedly.

"Godric spoke to me, through the Sorting Hat. The child is no squib, but something is draining the child of his magic. The Hat seemed to insinuate that Dumbledore knew of this, and has sentenced the grandson of Dorea to death regardless."

"Something must be done, Cassiopeia. It would be futile to try to free James and Lily of the old man, but the boy himself could be saved."

"I agree grandfather, I agree." A plan was formulating in her head and she had already begun compiling the things she need. 

She grabbed the little black book that held everything she needed to know about Britain and scanned through it until she found the address. 

Yes, this could work. 

"Where are they taking the boy?"

"Number Four Privet Drive, over in Little Whinging." Cassiopeia gave only a nod in acknowledgement before she started the brewing. 

The boy would be at the home and was going nowhere soon. She could not act too rashly, this had to be perfect.

--------

A small pop echoed through the street in the small magical community just outside Paris. 

Cassiopeia's black hair was caught up in the wind, but she made no mind to fix it, she was too focused on her goal. 

It had been nearly a week since she had heard of Harry Potter's fate and now everything was ready. 

She needed the boy, but she needed someone else too. 

It didn't take long for her to find the flat she was looking for, the simple protections helped keep the idea that no one important lived here, but Cassiopeia knew better. 

She knocked politely and waited as she heard the light foots step come to the door. 

It was the middle of the night and she was not surprised to see a wand pointed at her, but the one who held it hardly looked like the person she knew.

Regina Malfoy had long beautiful blonde hair, at least it had been. Now it looked frayed and greasy, as if the girl hadn't showered in days. 

Her blue eyes, which normally shown brightly were dull and seemed to be almost graying.