003 // MC accepts his new life.

He was a Black of Most Ancient and Most noble house of Black, he remembered reading about this stuff in what was called the Harry Potter series in his old life. heck, he died reading those books, but this! This was unbelievable. Nope, No, Nada. This was not happening with him. someone up there was messing with him.

Now it just clicked into his mind, the strange creature, old nanny, weird clothing, different furniture, snapping of fingers, waving a stick, which was probably a wand, He was in the old-fashioned world of Harry-Potter. It was all Magic. He started crying, loudly with that line of thinking.

His grandfather who was holding him was startled for all a second then he expertly held him in his hands and made soothing sounds. But He couldn't stop crying. Then his mother took him from his grandfather's hands to take him somewhere a bit quieter.

It was all just too much, it all felt like the universe was playing with him.

His name was Sirius black by some fates, and not even the Sirius he had read about in harry potter books, if he heard the man correctly, he was in 1846, not even his century let alone decade.

He tried thinking about his previous life and felt those thoughts slipping away from his mind. He held onto them loosely then, just remembering little tidbits, the cycle he rode in the street of his childhood home, newspaper read daily in-home in the soothing voice of his father, writing with a pencil on paper, he couldn't grasp or guess what was his name in last life. he hadn't thought about his old name in the last few months and it was now out of his reach.

He mourned his loss of life. While he was crying, he felt something cold touch his face and saw his mother collecting his tears, a large hand was holding a small glass bottle and his tears were flowing into it. He would never understand this world. He mourned the loss of his lovely mother, his lovely mother who he had loved dearly till last dying breath, whose name he couldn't remember now but her smile was erected in his memories, whose fragrance he could still feel tickling at his nose.

He mourned for his lost life and family for the first time properly as the new reality settled in his very bones with the repeat utterance of his name via the lips of his mother. Hearing my non-stop crying and thinking that he was hungry, his nanny summoned his milk bottle. he drifted to sleep, As his mother and nanny chatted among themselves.

After a few days of mourning, He decided to move on. He was in the world of magic, and he had magic in his veins. He didn't want to lose what precious memories of his last life were left with him so he didn't think hard about them, he would find a method to save them later, probably when he was able to write.

After a few months as he became consciously verbal and his education started. He worked on his body, trying his best to control it, and he was rewarded for his efforts with words of encouragement from his new family. They had high expectations from him, and his conscious mind was able to understand the gist of their conversations as they talked around him.

The household was going to host a Samhain ball shortly after he turned 1. Preparations started as early as in August and his nanny was kind enough to tell him all about them as they happened, if he was any other baby, he couldn't possibly understand what she was saying, but he had a conscious mind so any information was precious to him. Still, she loved talking to him and he found delight in hearing about anything from her.

Everyone in the family was busy due to preparations for the ball but still, when he started speaking in small words, his parents took time to spend with him. His ever-present nanny started him on disgusting mushy food sometime in middle and he developed new hate for boiled food. he passionately hated this flavourless boiled food.

He also started walking fairly early by baby's standard at just 2 months before his 1st birthday, so he was happy with having some control over his movements. His nanny produced a flying carpet when he started standing up with support and set him on it while he learned to walk. It hovered a bit off ground but it didn't let me fall. He felt like he was in Aladdin's world, It moved around o its own and he started to crawl and stand up on it using a hell of a lot of determination. He learned to walk on a flying carpet and how cool was that.

Soon his 1st birth anniversary came, and he was presented to the family at breakfast time. There was some kind of special breakfast going on in maybe happiness of me turning one, but what do he a baby knew.

Not everything was sunshine and roses, His grandfather extracted some blood after pinching his thumb with a needle carefully and stored it in a glass vial. Nobody said anything as if it was not worth mentioning. He involuntarily cried at the pinching sensation but after sucking his healed thumb a bit, it was sent to the back of his mind.

As 31st October came around, the huge place he lived in was shining and decked with decorations for the ball. Even he was fitted in some sort of green and silver lacy gown thing. Surely Slytherin colours. Doctrine into becoming perfect little heir started early in this family.

When He was presented at the ball in the arms of his mother who was wearing an elegant gown with tasteful jewellery accompanied by his proud looking father and grandfather who were decked in royal-looking clothes, He smiled at everyone and didn't cry even once that day. It was a personal achievement for him in his new body, as it was so sensitive that tears came even at smallest discomforts.

He spoke the few words out of his small vocabulary frequently and laughed silly at all the funny people he saw there. Some people looked beyond funny in what were old-fashioned costumes according to him but the height of fashion according to them. Finding joy in little things prevented him from going insane in this restricted body.

According to his nanny, the ball was a success. He wasn't the only kid present there but he was the only one under the age of 7. As this ball was in his honor sort off or something like that. It was still hard to understand posh and old English his nanny spoke in. still he was a baby; he didn't need to concern himself with these things.