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(Thursday 19th June, 1997 : Diagon Alley, Gringotts) 
Head held high, Draco was walking with all the grace and decorum of a proper Malfoy towards Gringotts Bank. Diagon Alley was dark and empty, the usual hoards of excited witches and wizards home at this early hour of the morning. The gleaming white marble of the Bank, the biggest light source in range, glowing with an eerie sort of power that made him wonder just how much the Goblins were keeping from the wizards who so readily trusted them with their gold.

Draco walked up the glowing white steps towards the bank and through the first set of gleaming double doors. He looked up at the warning, posted for all those stupid enough to think they could steal from the Goblin race. He was so distracted by the foreboding words that, when he ran into the hard chest of another man, Draco stumbled back, tripping over his feet with no grace or dignity to be seen.

Two large, strong hands steadied him by his hips and Draco blushed, this was an entirely new situation he was facing. The stranger carefully pulled him back onto his feet and let out a rumbling chuckle that made Draco shiver. He looked up, only to see the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen.

The man was roughly 6”5’ with a broad chest that tapered down to slim hips. He was well muscled, but not overly so, a solid beater’s build that still allowed for high agility. High cheekbones and a defined jawline indicated the man was from pureblood lineage. His tan skin seemed to glow despite the lack of light. Raven black hair was tied into a messy bun on the top of his head, short strands escaped and fell to the greenest eyes Draco had ever seen. The man was strangely familiar looking, but Draco couldn't place where he'd seen him before. He was sure he would recognise those eyes anywhere.

The man wore fitted black slacks and a black, tucked in button down; sleeves rolled up. Draco found himself staring at the tight muscles of the man’s forearms before he realised the man’s hands were still on his hips. He cleared his throat awkwardly and muttered a ‘thank you’ before taking half a step back to extract himself from this man’s grasp and let himself breathe.

“I - wow - ahh, who are you?” Draco stuttered out and amusement shone in those emerald green eyes. “I mean I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. A pleasure to meet you.” He said, extending his hand for a shake.

The dark man’s eyes took a slow trip up Draco’s body as he bowed slightly and took his hand, dropping a chaste kiss onto Draco’s knuckles. Draco’s knees went weak and he thought this man might actually be the death of him. If he ever saw this man again, there was no way someone this extraordinary would leave Draco in one piece.

“The pleasure is all mine Draco Malfoy. I’m Hadrian Peverell,” the man said in a voice Draco could listen to all day and never tire of deep baritone rumbling.

A smirk crossed the man’s lips, as if he knew exactly how Draco was reacting to him and with a nod of farewell, Hadrian Peverell turned and walked through the double doors and down the steps to Diagon Alley. Draco stared unashamedly at his broad, muscled back and the way his slacks hugged the shapely curve of his ass.

Draco had only just met the man but he knew he was in very big trouble. Draco had never seen anyone as stunning as Hadrian Peverell and he knew, without a doubt that he probably never would.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Thursday 19th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Throne Room)
The Death Eaters stood at attention, staring reverently at their Lord and Master. He sat regally on his black obsidian throne, red eyes piercing through the white masks of his faithful, and unfaithful, followers.

This was a full meeting, with potential traitors in the midst, so the Dark Lord wore his favourite glamour. His bald head, glowing eyes, pale, scaly skin and flat, slitted nose striking fear into the hearts of his followers and enemies alike.

People would do anything to remain on the good side of Lord Voldemort, especially after they bore witness to the terrifying nature of his magic, lazily circling around him. Watching, waiting for someone to slip up, so he could strike. Slithering around the Death Eaters and keeping a close eye on their magic and intentions. Just like the snake he is.

Nagini slithered from the side of the room, slithering up her Master’s leg and coiling herself around his neck and shoulders. A collective shudder went through the Death Eater ranks. The only thing more scary than the Dark Lord, was the Dark Lord with his snake familliar. These men had seen Negini eat a human whole and were rightly terrified of the vibrant green reptile.

Restless shuffles began to break out in the hall. The Death Eaters had been standing in wait for nearly twenty minutes. Their Lord was not speaking, just watching over them, waiting for someone to move or speak out of turn. The smirk on his reptilian face highlighting the amusement he felt at all these witches and wizards completely at his mercy.

This was the kind of power the Dark Lord held. The power to control a room full of the most powerful witches and wizards in magical Britain. The power to

make

them obey.

The heavy doors at the back of the Hall opened seemingly of their own accord and the Death Eaters turned as one to see who dared be late to a meeting. Draco Malfoy watched the Dark Lord however, watched as something akin to an pleased smirk graced his serpentine features. He wondered just who the Dark Lord had invited to this meeting.

Echoing footsteps rang out through the entryway, lazily making their way to the meeting Hall. A tall figure appeared through the doors, dressed in a midnight black cloak with the hood up. The fabric whipped around him, caught on a phantom wind of magic and power and strength. Magic, dark and intoxicating swirled around him taking the Death Eaters closest to him into an almost trance like state.

This man looked like power.

He looked like Death.

He looked exactly like someone the Dark Lord would want on his side.

The man strode through the room, Death Eaters parting for him unconsciously, to the dais where the Dark Lord sat. A small bow of the head was all he made towards the leader of the Dark as he approached. A few Death Eaters gasped, shocked to see someone dared not give their Lord the respect he deserved. The respect they all showed him on pain of death.

Draco thought that this man must be

very

powerful. He was not a Death Eater, he was something more. An ally of the Dark Lord. Maybe one himself.

The man turned to stand at the Dark Lord’s right as the leader of the Dark rose, Nagini sliding off onto the high back of the throne. As the newcomer looked over the crowd, Draco caught a glimpse of a familiar emerald green under the hood, and his breath caught. Could this be the man from the bank?

“My dear friends,” the Dark Lord’s voice was barely raised but it rang out through the hall, catching the full attention of all those who observed him. “It seems we have a new ally.” A rumble of murmurs rippled through the ranks, silenced by the raising of the Dark Lord’s hand.

“Lord Thanatos will be instrumental in my latest plans to take the Light Lord Dumbledore off his high horse. You will undoubtedly be seeing him around and he shall be treated second only to me.”

“You will show him the respect you show me or you shall suffer at his hand.” The Dark Lord smirked again, showing off slightly pointed teeth in the process. Another shiver rippled through the ranks and a deep chuckle came from under the hood at the Dark Lord’s right. “Believe me when I tell you, that will not be a pleasant experience.”

“We have a raid in three days time, you all know your orders. Make sure you are ready. Dismissed.” The Dark Lord said with a wave of his hand, collecting his snake from the high back of his throne. “Lucius, Severus, Draco, Barty,” he hissed as the ranks began to file out of the meeting hall, “come to my study in an hour.”

Draco watched as the Dark Lord and the new Lord Thanatos strode gracefully to the side of the room and disappeared through a door Draco had never noticed before. He turned to his father and godfather. The quizzical look on his face mirrored exactly by both men.

Well, it seemed no one had been expecting this. Draco wondered who exactly this new Lord was and how quickly things were about to change in favour of the Dark.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Thursday 19th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Tom's Study) 
As soon as Hadrian closed the door, Tom dropped his glamour and flopped, very ungracefully in Hadrian’s opinion, into the wingback chair behind his meticulously organised desk. Running his hand through his chin length chestnut locks, taking deep breath and turning crimson eyes to the young man in the room, Tom visibly prepared himself for what was undoubtedly going to be a long and difficult conversation.

“How were the Goblins?” he asked with a wary look on his face. Hadrian had always thought the Dark Lord needed to channel his inner Gryffindor more often. He would especially need it for this conversation, so he should just suck it up and be brave.

Not that he’d ever say that out loud. He liked all his limbs where they were thank-you-very-much.

Hadrian seated himself in front of the desk, throwing his cloak over the back of the chair. “Now, now Tom. No ‘Hello, Hadrian’ ‘How are you Hadrian?’ ‘Well done in front of my scary minions Hadrian’?” A smirk grew on his face as the Dark Lord scowled. “You mustn’t forget your manners, my dear.”

“Hadrian, I swear. We only have an hour and, horcrux or not, I am not afraid to

Crucio

you.

Please

get on with it, I just know I’m not going to like it.” Tom rubbed a long fingered hand over his face tiredly and Hadrian felt a little bit of pity for the Dark Lord. Things were about to change for Tom and Hadrian knew how much the old man hated change.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your wand in a knot. I walked into the bank and as soon as they saw me they headed me off to Director Ragnok’s office. Apparently they’ve been sending me letters for 6 years and I haven’t received a single one.” Tom’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the head of British Gringotts but he stayed silent and motioned for Hadrian to continue.

“Ragnok made me take an inheritance test and well, this is where it gets into the ‘of fucking course this happens to Harry bloody Potter territory’…” At this Hadrian handed Tom a sheet of parchment and motioned for him to read it. “See for yourself, you won’t believe me otherwise.”

Tom looked down and his eyes widened almost immediately.

Name:
Hadrian James Potter

Age:

16 (emancipated, Tri-wizard Tournament)

Parents:

Paternal:
James Charlus Potter (deceased)

Maternal:
Lily Rose Potter (deceased)

Godparents:

Sirius Orion Black (blood adopted father, incapacitated)

Alice Longbottom (incapacitated)

Magical Guardian:

Albus Dumbledore (inactive since emancipation)

Creature Inheritance:

Living Vampire (paternal, Peverell line)

Mate:
unknown

Donor:
unknown

Lordships:

Lord

Most Noble House of Potter (paternal)

Lord

Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell (paternal)

Lord

Most Ancient and Noble House of Black (blood adoption)

Lord

Most Ancient and Noble House of Ravenclaw (maternal)

Heir

Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin (conquest)

Blocks:

70% Magical Core Block (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981) (50%

broken

)

100% Parseltongue ability (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981) (100%

broken

)

100% Metamorphmagus ability (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981) (10%

broken

)

100% Natural Occlumency (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981) (30%

broken

)

100% Creature Inheritance (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981)

100% Elemental Magic (Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1, 1981)

Potions:

Loyalty potion (keyed Albus Dumbledore)

Loyalty potion (keyed Weasley Family)

Loyalty potion (keyed Ron Weasley)

Loyalty potion (keyed Hermione Granger)

Love potion (keyed Ginny Weasley)

Hate potion (keyed Slytherin House)

Hate potion (keyed Severus Snape)

Hate potion (keyed Draco Malfoy)

Submission potion (keyed Dursley Family)

Submission potion (keyed Albus Dumbledore)

Contracts:

Marriage contract to one Ginevra Weasley (illegal, not filed)

“I think the old coot’s biggest mistake was he counted on me hating you on my own, purely for killing my parents and didn’t potion me for you, or Dark Magic.” Hadrian said casually once he thought Tom had come out of his shocked state.

“His

biggest mistake...

no, his biggest mistake was not forgetting to make you hate

me

! For fucks sake Hades, he might as well have altered your entire personality! And how in Merlin’s name are you still alive? You had 70% of your magical core blocked! I’m going to

murder

the old fool.”

Magic was whipping around the office, the air heavy with the thickness of the dark magic expressing the Dark Lord’s rage. Hadrian sat in awe for a moment, enjoying the sight of Tom’s addictive magic wreaking havoc throughout the room. Tom’s magic really was magnificent.

He wouldn’t say it out loud but the fact that Tom was so worked up over something bad happening to Hadrian warmed his heart a little bit. He did think he should probably stop Tom before he destroyed his office or something though, especially since this wasn’t the worst of the news he received at the bank.

Hadrian reached out with his magic for the link that connected Tom to the horcrux in his scar and sent a wave of calm through the bond. “It’s fine Tom, the Goblins put me through a purging ritual as soon as they saw this and put their office back together. They managed to unblock everything and get the potions out of my system and talk me through the creature changes,” he said waving a dismissive hand.

“You destroyed a Goblin office?” Tom asked with a sigh watching Hadrian intently as the younger man attempted to school his sheepish expression into something more befitting of a Lord of his station, that being extremely fucking powerful and wealthy.

“Ah, well… yeah, maybe I did,” Hadrian said nervously. “But they forgave me and we put it back together! No harm done!” He was not liking the way this conversation was now going but was thankful that it managed to pull Tom out of his rage for a moment.

“That’s not all is it?” the older man asked gravely.

“Not even slightly, dear.” Hadrian said, grinning at the Dark Lord, “our ammunition for destruction only gets better from here.”

“So, the old man was my magical guardian, do you know what that is?” At the shake of the Dark Lord’s head he continued. “No, you probably wouldn’t, I don’t think you had one. Anyway, it’s the person who’s in charge of looking after a minor’s living arrangements, vaults, inheritances and, most importantly in my opinion, making sure the minor knows about the magical world. That they know how to navigate it and are prepared to take over the family when they come of age. Obviously, old Dumbles sucked at being my magical guardian because I had to learn all that shit by myself and didn’t even know about the magical world ‘till I was 11.”

“He named himself the magical guardian of Harry James Potter on November 1st, 1981,

before

Sirius was arrested I might add, dropped me off at the Dursley’s and walked away with almost complete control of the Potter vaults and seats.” Hadrian could see understanding come to Tom’s face as he figured out where this was going.

“Anyway, using

my

money, Griphook told me the old coot has been paying himself 1000 galleons a month, the Dursleys 500 galleons a month to ‘condition me’, the Weasley’s 100 galleons a month for ‘looking after me’ in the magical world, Weasel and Granger 100 galleons a month each for being my friends and the Weaselette 50 galleons a month in preparation for being the next Lady Potter.” At this Hadrian rolled his eyes dramatically. “Like that would ever happen, there’s no way I would go near the red-headed bint. I much prefer blonds”

Tom muffled a snort at that. Hadrian heard and counted it as a win.

“When he dropped me at the house of hell, he had my parent’s wills sealed, and took control of all of Sirius’ stuff after the heirship passed to me at the end of last year. How he got that one done I don’t know, he has no connection to the Blacks…” Hadrian thought old Dumbles must have had to pull a

lot

of favours to get that one through and sat with a thoughtful expression on his face until Tom cleared his throat and motioned for him to continue.

“Right, sorry,” Hadrian said, ignoring the Dark Lord’s exasperation. “I listened to both wills and both my parents said I should go to literally anyone in the magical world before that bitch Petunia and her whale of a husband, so there’s another shot at old Dumbles’ good record. Along with condoning the abuse of a magical minor. I was supposed to go to either of my godparents, then Snape, then whatever nice wizarding family the ministry could find for me. Honestly, I think they would have preferred I went to

you

before the

muggles

.”

Mirth danced in his emerald eyes as a look of horror, then disgust passed quickly over the Dark Lord’s face. “Nope, nope, nope. I don’t do children. That would not have been good,” Tom said, barely repressing the shudder that threatened to wreck his body at the mere thought of having to look after a child. Especially if that child was a younger Hadrian.

Hadrian chuckled, briefly imagining a little kid calling the big bad Dark Lord ‘daddy’ before quickly pushing that thought aside (and the horror that came with it) and continued on with his story.

“Anyway, they left a few things to Snape and the other Marauders but, basically everything went to me.”

“I’ve looked through the Potter vault records. The Goblins have decided they like me so they’re recalling all the gold he took from there with interest. He’s also taken a boatload of books and artifacts from the main Potter vault and distributed them to his minions. Those will be harder to recall but the Goblins said they should be able to get ninety percent of the stuff back and payment for anything that can’t be returned.”

“Only you, Hadrian, could get the Goblins to like you,” Tom said, giving Hadrian a look mixed between fondness and exasperation.

“Of course I can, old man, I’m

nice

.” Hadrian said, sending a charming smile and a wink to the Dark Lord before a curse could be thrown his way as Tom muttered something about not being

that

old.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Thursday 19th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Tom's Study) “The last thing is the most confusing and kinda just happened after I was purged of all the blocks and stuff" Hadrian said, looking down at his hands awkwardly for a moment. "Apparently I was supposed to get my creature inheritance on my 17th birthday and, of course because I’m Harry fucking Potter, I’m something that hasn’t been seen in about 500 years. An elemental Vampire, or a Living Vampire.” Tom’s eyebrows rose at that.“I’ve heard of them. They used to rule over all the Vampires because there’s no recorded way to kill them.”Hadrian laughed, of course that was what Tom knew, he was so completely obsessed with immortality. “Exactly, we have heartbeats, eat normal food and are, for all intents and purposes, alive. We also have a destined mate and donor and, as soon as we find them, we need the blood of our donor or mate to survive. Preferably both but it’s not necessary, in case you find one years before the other or something like that.” He paused to make sure Tom was following before continuing. “I’m going to age until my mid-twenties then stop for an indefinite amount of time, extending the life of my mate and donor with me. According to the Goblin’s records, the lifespan of a Living Vampire is directly linked to how much magic the Vampire has but even the weakest Living Vampire can live for thousands of years.”“That’s good news for your horcrux,” Hadrian said, giving the Dark Lord a pointed look as a smug smile graced the aristocratic features of the older man. “And now that there’s no known way to kill me, maybe you should stop being a prat and absorb the rest of them, oh immortal Dark Lord sir.”“Might make you less inclined to curse me,” he said with a chuckle as he ducked the jet of red light that escaped Tom’s wand at that comment.“We shall see, brat. I might find a way to kill you just so you can’t annoy me for all eternity.” The hint of amusement in Tom’s eyes told him the Dark Lord was joking. Hadrian knew Tom was really quite fond of the younger man, despite all his comments opposing this idea. “Is the creature inheritance responsible for the new look too?” Tom said, running an appreciative eye over the body of the Vampire in front of him.A blush ran up Hadrian’s neck before he could repress it, not used to having compliments directed at his body. “No, not all of it. It fixed my eyes and gave me a little height and muscle definition, but I’ve been wearing a glamour since you started sending me nutrient potions over the summer. I’ve been working on not being the scrawny git the twins call me, so most of this is just me. I also managed to figure out enough of my metamorphmagus ability to change the gravity defying hair and cover my scar.”At Tom’s nod of approval, Hadrian figured it was okay to change the topic without getting a crucio to the face. “Do you think this will be enough to push the public opinion over the edge? Mistreatment of the Boy-Who-Lived should go straight to the front page of the Daily Prophet.”“Yes, I believe exposing the abuse of the Golden Boy alongside all we have found about the old coot’s involvement with Grindelwald’s beginning and the misuse of the Hogwarts funds will be enough to sway the public. I’m sure people who have been in similar situations because of Dumbledore will come forward once this all comes out,” he said with a satisfied smirk. “Have you spoken to Rita?”“Yes, I have an meeting set up day after tomorrow.”“Good, I believe she will be excited, perhaps even uncover more than we were able to. Hopefully we can get him out of Chief Warlock position before the Hogwarts term starts.”Hadrian’s eyes went wide as Tom spoke, remembering something he’d missed from his discussion with the Goblins. “Oh, I can’t believe I forgot!” he exclaimed. Tom cocked an eyebrow in question, motioning for Hadrian to go on. “He’s been using my seats in the Wizengamot! Granted it’s only the Potter ones, but if I align those and the others I gained claiming my Lordships today with the Dark, Lucius could be Chief Warlock by tomorrow night.”“I can also probably get a boat load of laws revoked because he’s been unlawfully voting on bills in my place. There is a whole section of the proxy contract that stresses the need to ask an underage seat holder how they want to vote on at least the bigger bills.”Tom’s eyes were alight with pleasure at the thought of Dumbledore suddenly being dethroned, not because of skilful manipulation of the Dark sect but because the old coot pissed off the wrong teenager. The thought of watching Hadrian cut into the headmaster for the next year was causing Tom to worry about his ability to hold a mask of indifference in place in front of his Death Eaters. It really was going to be a good year.“Ah, Tom?” Hadrian asked, uncharacteristically uncertain as he questioned the Dark Lord. He was worried he was about to come off as pushy or disrespectful to someone who had already gone above and beyond for the young Vampire. “Yes, Hadrian. You know you’re allowed to ask questions here. You are, after all, my equal, brat.” Tom said, his fondness for the teen shining through his ruby eyes.“I’d like to bring my circle here before Rita’s first article goes out. Just to make sure they’re protected from the backlash that is bound to come from that horrible Weasley woman. If that’s okay with you of course, I know how you are about people getting into your space.”The nervous tension coming off the young Vampire softened the Dark Lord’s eyes and caused a genuine, albeit small, smile to grace his handsome face. Hadrian had to physically stop himself from gaping at the rare sight, lest it never happen again. “Of course you can call them Hades, the safety of your followers is paramount. There will, of course, be rules they will have to follow and vows of secrecy they will have to take but, yes Hadrian. Send letters with the floo address tonight and I will open it tomorrow from 10-11am”“Thank you, Tom.” The gratitude towards the other man shining through his big, green eyes.A knock on the door broke the mood of the room. “Are you ready for them to see the real Harry Potter, brat?”“Yes, i believe I am.” A wide grin spread across his aristocratic face, lighting up the green in his eyes as the Dark Lord bade entry to the four men outside the office. The wide eyes and soft gasps Hadrian heard come from all the men only enhanced his amusement as he stood and introduced himself.“Good evening, gentlemen. I am Hadrian Corvus Peverell. It is a pleasure to see you all again.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Thursday 19th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Tom's Study)Draco didn’t know whether he should be happy he guessed the identity of this new Lord correctly or not. Draco loved being right, he really did. But the idea that he was crushing hard on the Dark Lord’s new partner did however, make Draco rather apprehensive. This was someone who could probably kill him without a second thought. Someone who’s magic felt almost as deadly as the Dark Lord’s. And someone who, apparently, had the trust and alliance of said Dark Lord. Things could go rather wrong for Draco if his attraction was noticed by these powerful men.Running his eyes appreciatively over the young man in front of him, Draco realised Hadrian Peverell couldn’t be that much older than Draco himself. He still looked terribly familiar but Draco couldn’t seem to place him. It was right on the tip of his tongue before all thought flew out of Draco’s mind, just as the Peverell Lord graced the room with a dazzling smile that made Draco’s knees weak. He caught a flash of a fang peeking out the corner of the young man’s mouth and Draco’s breath hitched. Hadrian Peverell was a Vampire and Draco honestly didn’t think this man could get any better.His gaze reached the Vampire Lord’s eye and suddenly, Draco was hit with an overwhelming sense of familiarity. He had seen those dazzling emerald eyes before. Stared into them as he sprouted words of pure loathing. Watched them religiously across the Great Hall every day for the past five years. He had seen almost every emotion possible in those giant green orbs. How had he not recognised him earlier?Draco physically stumbled back a step. His stomach dropping through the floor of the Dark Lord’s study. He was in so much more shit than he originally anticipated.Severus was on high alert the moment he entered the Dark Lord’s office. There was a new player in the game and, as Slytherin as Severus was, he needed to know more about this man before he could ever think about serving him.As his three companions stared in shock at the tall man in front of them, Severus used their silence to analyse Hadrian Peverell. The name sparked something in Severus. Weren’t the Peverell family related to the Potters in some way?His eyes roamed over the new Lord and Peverell's flash of a smile at the stumbling form of Severus' godson next to him made Severus notice two things; this man was a Vampire, and he looked a whole lot like an arrogant Potter . Emerald green lit up in amusement at Draco’s stunned face, lack of Malfoy decorum oozing out of the young man, and Severus reared back in shock. Occlumency shields barely keeping the horror off his face.No.This couldn’t be happening! Severus’ life was about to get much more complicated. He was not looking forward to it.“P-otter?” he said with a break in his voice he was not proud of and would never admit to anyone.Those green eyes, so very like his mothers, snapped to him and bored straight into his soul. Severus’ companions gasped, incredulous looks on their faces. A small upward quirk of the young Lord’s mouth confirmed Severus’ suspicions and he lost all semblance of control, completely forgetting where he was and who was in his presence.“Potter, what the actual fuck are you doing here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?! Are you trying to get me killed you stupid, irrational Gryffindor!” he ranted as he stalked towards the boy he’d sworn to protect with his life and magic. The rash, impulsive brat that, despite all Albus - fucking - Dumbledore’s manipulations, he’d come to respect.“Oh, Severus. So sweet that you care,” the raven haired menace drawled, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “But, I am perfectly safe here. In fact, right here, in this room with you five, is probably the safest I’ve ever been.”Lucius was very confused. Very, very confused and getting more so every second he was in this room. Did Severus just say ‘Potter’? As in Harry Potter? There was absolutely no logical explanation for Harry bloody Potter to be standing casually in the Dark Lord’s study. Draco had said the brat was as Light as they came, Dumbledore’s personal weapon, the Golden Boy of Gryffindor. The boy could not be here and still be alive. It just didn’t make sense. And the way his son was looking at the boy; with ill concealed awe and attraction... Lucius needed answers and he needed them now.Barty slunk into a plush armchair before the hearth, smug smile on his face. He had been waiting two years for this day to come. The day the Dark finally learnt the identity of his Lord. The day the war was tipped on its axis and the Dark came out unquestionably on top. For, Barty wholeheartedly believed Lord Thanatos was going to destroy Dumbledore and his insufferable Birds, and bring balance to the wizarding world once more.Barty new that choosing to take his Lord’s mark at the end of his fourth year was the right decision. Just so he could be privy to the look of absolute astonishment on Lucius Malfoy’s face when he realised Harry Potter was not the Golden Boy he thought he was. How he enjoyed watching the man realise he did not know everything.Hadrian was deeply enjoying the looks of astonishment on all three men’s faces. Especially Draco. He felt a deep seated sense of self satisfaction at breaking through the young blonde’s infallible mask. Breathing in deeply through his nose, Hadrian once again caught the scent of the Malfoy heir and confirmed what he suspected from their meeting outside Gringotts that morning.Draco Malfoy was his mate.Hadrian wasn’t sure what to think of his newest revelation but he never had been one to argue with fate, no matter how much she screwed up his life. He decided then and there, though, that he would let the young blonde come to him. He would never force this type of bond onto someone, no matter how much he needed it personally.“I’m sure you all have a boat load of questions, yeah?” he asked the stunned group before him. At their silent nods in agreement he allowed a smirk to cross his face and glanced at Tom. The amusement shining in the man’s red eyes urged him onwards and he prepared himself to tell his life story. These people all had an important position in his life and deserved to know the real him. “I’m going to answer them all but I’ll have to ask you to wait until I’m done before you throw a fit, okay?” he said with a pointed glance at Severus, knowing this information was likely to affect him the most.Hesitant nods were once again directed at him and Hadrian snickered at the look of pure glee written on Barty’s face over by the fire.“Why don’t we join Barty for a drink?” He walked over to the fire and Tom summoned a House Elf to fetch firewhisky and some light food. “Leave the bottle,” Tom asked the small creature as it returned with the amber liquid and six glasses. “We’re going to need it.”

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(Thursday 19th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Tom's Study)“I guess you could say it all starts with a prophecy,” Hadrian started. Severus’ face paled and he was suddenly very glad he was already sitting down.“A young Sybill Trelawney met with Albus Dumbledore in the rundown Hog’s Head for a job interview. All was going fairly normally before the crazy bat made a prophecy: “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ….. Born to those that have thrice defied him ….. Born as the seventh month dies …… and the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal …… but he shall have power the Dark Lord knows not …… and either must die at the hands of the other …. For neither can live while the other survives …… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.”  “Now Albus Dumbledore, being the man of infinite wisdom that he is, heard this prophecy and immediately started looking for candidates that fit this description and he came to two conclusions; Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. He immediately moved the families of these two children into hiding in order to protect the prophecy child from the evil Dark Lord Voldemort.” Said Dark Lord sat chuckling at the looks of horror on his followers faces. Lucius was horrified that someone could talk so openly about the Dark Lord while the man sat right next to him. He could not comprehend ever feeling comfortable enough around the immensely powerful man to joke about him. He noticed Draco’s look of horror mixed with wonder directed at the young Vampire and vowed to stop his son doing something infinitely stupid, like become attached to the young man.“A young Death Eater,” Hadrian looked pointedly at Severus, “heard the first half of the prophecy and reported it to his Master immediately.”Severus was not enjoying this story. Not at all.“As payment for his follower’s work, the Dark Lord promised to try and spare the young man’s childhood friend, despite the fact she was a muggle-born, fought faithfully for the light and birthed the Dark Lord’s prophesied downfall.”“Voldemort, who at the time was nothing short of insane ,“ Tom rolled his eyes at the teen and his constant hints that he rejoin his horcruxes, “came to the same conclusion as Dumbledore and immediately searched for the boys. Why he chose the Potter’s that night, I don’t know, but he did, and after gaining the address from their secret keeper Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort went after Harry Potter.”Tom offered up no explanations when five imploring looks were suddenly directed at him. A few moments of the deceptively innocent look plastered on the Dark Lord’s face caused Hadrian to continue after muttering about stupid secretive dark lords under his breath.“This is what happened that night,” Hadrian said as he pulled out his wand. He drew a memory from his temple, but instead of summoning a pensieve as expected, Hadrian muttered a few Latin words and a scene rose from the end of his wand.The room watched as young Harry heard his father call for Lily to ‘take Harry and run’. Watched as the young witch barricaded herself in the nursery and waited for the inevitable attack. No one was breathing as Voldemort burst through the door and demanded Lily move aside as she begged for the life of her son. They saw the frustration and resignation on the Dark Lord’s face as he finally killed the young witch and pointed his wand at baby Harry. The curse was cast, backfired and the spirit of the most powerful wizard of his time was forced from the room as his body disintegrated.Severus sat, staring wide-eyed at the Dark Lord as he realised his mistake. His loyalty had always been with the Dark until Dumbledore used Lily’s death against him. She had always been his weakness and the old man had used her to manipulate him for the past fifteen years. To know his Lord had honoured his promise and tried to spare Lily’s life shocked him to his core. Severus had to alter his world view to fit this revelation. And not for the last time that night. “Now here’s where things get really interesting,” Hadrian said as the memory seemed to change, moving to a different moment of that dreaded night.The image of Sirius Black erupted from the wand, lifted Harry from his cot and out of the house containing his dead parents. Dumbledore and Hagrid were waiting for them and Hadrian’s audience gasped as the esteemed Headmaster cast a full body bind at the young Black heir. Draco and Lucius wore identical faces of disgust as Dumbledore ordered Hagrid to take baby Harry from Sirius and head to Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. As the half-giant walked towards a large black motorcycle, a quiet ‘ Imperio’ could be heard before Hadrian stopped the memory.“Dumbledore’s actions now, I’m not entirely certain of but, taking advantage of a mind plagued by guilt and despair, he managed to get Sirius to hunt down the traitorous Marauder who sold out his friends and ignore his urge to look after his godson.” Hadrian’s face was murderous as he talked of the man he thought most responsible for his parents deaths.“Sirius eventually caught up with Pettigrew and, in the chaos that followed, Pettigrew called out that Sirius betrayed the Potters before he managed to blow up the street, killed 12 muggles, cut off his own finger and escape to the sewers in his Animagus form. At this point Sirius had delved further into guilt and the Black family madness than he had ever been, and by the time the Aurors got there he was all but confessing to the Potter’s deaths. That was cause enough for the stupid ministry to throw him in Azkaban without a trial even before Dumbledore got involved.”“They threw the heir to a Most Ancient and Noble House into Azkaban without a trial?” Draco suddenly asked. An incredulous look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe a Noble pure-blood could possibly be treated that badly.Hadrian knew Draco would be the first to break the no talking rule and tried his best to keep the fond look off his face as his mate spoke. “You’d be surprised what the Ministry is capable of when left to their own devices Draco, they really are quite stupid not to think of the consequences of insulting the House of Black.” Hadrian’s smirk grew as he watched Draco suppress a shiver at the promise in the young Lord’s voice.Hadrian drew another memory from his temple and a painfully boring looking muggle street appeared at the end of his wand. Hagrid, Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall stood outside number four Privet Drive oblivious to the fact that baby Harry was wide awake.They watched as McGonagall told Dumbledore that these were the worst kind of muggles she’d ever seen. As Dumbledore dismissed her comments with meaningless words about family and love and not letting fame get to the boy’s head. And as a sobbing Hagrid placed baby Harry on the doorstep with nothing but a blanket and a letter.“I’m not sure what was in that letter.” Hadrian said as he paused the memory yet again. “I have my suspicions, of course. Something along the lines of ‘tell the boy nothing of his parents and make sure he is weak and malleable by the time his Hogwarts letter comes.’ But Petunia and Vernon Dursley were, of course, horrified that the freak baby of Petunia’s sister was dumped on their doorstep and vowed to make the child’s life as unpleasant as they could without actually dropping him off at an orphanage.”Severus snorted at this, still apparently under the impression that Harry Potter was a spoilt, arrogant child who was loved and cared for in his home. Despite all that he’d already found out about Dumbledore’s deceit. An angry glare was sent his way from both Tom and, surprisingly to Severus, Barty as Hadrian said a quiet, “watch my life, Severus.”The next series of memories made Draco and three of the Dark Lord’s most ruthless followers sick to their stomach. They may have condoned the torture of blood-traitors and muggles, people who deserved it, who had done the world and magic wrong. Never, had they seen this level of torture on a child who, for all that anyone knew, had done nothing more than possess the gift of magic in his blood.They watched countless times as young Harry was thrown in the cupboard under the stairs, watched him cry silently in the dark, praying to escape his relatives. They watched as a large, fat, walrus-like man punched and kicked and whipped the young boy from as young as three years old. They saw a horse-faced woman order a four year old Harry to cook breakfast and refuse to give him a stool even after he burnt his hand on the cooker he was too short to see properly. Barty turned away as the image of a bruised, five year old Harry was thrown outside in clothes barely small enough to stay on his tiny body, and told to give his horrid Aunt an award winning garden ‘or else’. He could not bare to watch the memory’s of his young Lord once again. He could never understand how Hadrian had survived his early childhood.Lucius lost all composure as he watched a young Harry be beaten for levitating a toy in the presence of his Uncle. He remembered watching Draco perform accidental magic and the overwhelming pride he and Narcissa had felt at the proof their son was gifted by magic. It was a time of celebration in a young child’s life when they began manifesting magic and to be punished for such a thing was unheard of. How Dumbledore had left this poor child to such horrible muggles and no one questioned it astounded Lucius.Draco felt an overwhelming sense of guilt as he watched a round, pig-like boy taunt Harry about his lack of parents. He remembered saying similar words to the boy in their early years at Hogwarts. Suddenly Harry’s refusal to his offer of friendship made a lot more sense to Draco and he wished he could go back in time and tell his younger self not to be such a prat. His guilt turned to horror as he watched a group of six large boys yell about ‘Harry Hunting’ before chasing after the tiny form of the young Potter who seemed so desperate to get away. Draco didn’t know how much more he could take as he watched one of the boys catch up to Harry, knocking him to the dirt, before all six of them began beating on the smaller boy, who didn’t make a sound.Severus was frozen as he watched young Harry hand his first report card to his Uncle, a proud glint in his eyes at the ‘A’s he’d gained in all his areas of study. He dared not breathe as Vernon Dursley’s face turned an impressive shade of purple and Severus’ swore his heart stopped as the fat man exploded. He watched as Dursley dragged the young boy towards the cupboard under the stairs before throwing him against the wall. Yelling about the ‘ungrateful freak’ who dared get higher grades than his stupid son. He watched as the man removed his belt and whipped the boy in front of him until all he could see was red. Severus watched as a young Harry Potter was thrown into his cupboard, blood streaming from the lashes in his back, and told he would be staying there, with no food, for the week.The memory faded and the room remained deathly quiet.

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(Thursday 19th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Tom's Study)“To make matters worse,” Hadrian said, startling the occupants of the Dark Lord’s office from their silent thoughts. “My magic started manifesting at a really young age. Sirius told me I was showing signs of accidental magic before my first birthday. I never would have left the muggles alive if left in those circumstances normally, so Dumbledore had to make sure that I didn’t kill them. He bound 70% of my core, effectively stumping my ability to both keep myself alive and retaliate against my relatives. It was for the Greater Good of course,” Hadrian sneered.“WHAT?” Hadrian was slightly surprised the enraged shout that rang through the room came from the Malfoy Lord. Lucius’ perfect pureblood demeanour was completely cast aside as he stood, silver eyes shining with righteous fury. Hadrian felt for sure Severus would be the first to start yelling, but the dark Potions Master was just staring at Hadrian, frozen in shock. “70% of your core! 70%! You should be dead! How on earth are you alive right now? When did you unbind it? You have unbound it, right?” Lucius’ face was pink with the effort Hadrian assumed it took to stop from pacing as his rapid fire questions were thrown at the young Vampire. “I honestly have no idea Lucius.” Hadrian said slowly, meeting the eyes of the Malfoy Lord. “I had managed to break through some of the binding on my own, so by the time I got to the Goblins this morning only 35% of my core was blocked. I have no idea why I was able to survive, let alone go through all the things I did a school without the full capacity of my magic available. The Goblins said my core must have been just large enough to sustain myself, but if I turned 17 without unbinding it, I probably would have died trying to come into my inheritance.”“THIS MORNING!” Severus shot out of his chair, finally breaking out of his dazed state and rushing to kneel in front of Hadrian. He pulled out his wand and frantically cast diagnostic spells at the young man sitting in front of him. Oblivious to the amused glint in the Dark Lord’s eyes and the fond exasperation that shon out of Hadrian’s.“Severus, the Goblins did that already,” he said quietly and looked deep into the eyes of the frantic Potions Master. “I’m perfectly fine now, clean bill of heath with the Goblin seal of approval.”Severus stood, a pink tinge to his cheeks as he realised what he had done. “Um, well, yes,” he said, “you know I will be checking up on that.” He backed up until he reached the couch and sat down again, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone in the room. Hadrian took pity on the man and moved the conversation in another direction.“I’m sure you all noticed I am a Vampire,” Hadrian said to the room. Barty was listening closely again, not having heard anything about his Lord’s creature inheritance yet. “I’m more than just your average Vampire though, I’m what they call a Living Vampire.”Lucius and Barty looked impressed.Severus looked overwhelmed and like he was completely unable to comprehend any more new information today.Draco’s reaction was the most entertaining to Hadrian, and he tried to avoid letting the smug look on his face become too obvious. Lust was crashing out of his young mate in waves. Tom noticed too, of course, but Hadrian studiously ignored the Dark Lord’s snickering.“When I got the potions and blocks purged from my system, my magic forced me into an early inheritance. I will live until Magic says I will live no more and I have a donor and a mate, who’s blood I will need to survive and who’s lives will be extended to match mine. When I find them and they accept me, that is.” Hadrian flashed a fanged smile at the room. “I have elemental magic and natural Occlumency abilities and I’m just generally stronger and faster than your average wizard.”“Is that why you don’t look like the scrawny, emaciated little shit I’ve spent the last year teaching?” Severus asked, studying Hadrian with narrowed eyes.“Ah, yes. That was partly due to the early inheritance, but also because I’m a full blooded metamorphmagus and I took off my glamour.”“Your glamour?” Severus asked his face mirroring the inquisitive ones of both Malfoys sitting beside him.A laugh from Barty caused all occupants of the office to look at him. “You guys are going to love this,” he said, giving Hadrian a look of complete adoration before turning back to the clueless in the room. “My Lord has been deceiving you all for such a long time, he truly is brilliant.” A light blush coloured Hadrian’s cheeks and Tom looked at him with clear amusement on his face. Before this was all over, Tom would make sure Hadrian was able to own up to his brilliance without the need to feel embarrassed and flattered. He was brilliant, of course he was. He was Tom’s horcrux. His equal.  “When did all this start?” Draco asked Hadrian. A little unsure about whether he should be insulted about being deceived or not. He guessed not because, now that he thought about it, Hadrian really had no reason to trust him. The fact that he was telling him now should be enough for the young Malfoy. And, truthfully, it was.“If I’m completely honest with you all, it started when I got my Hogwarts letter,” Hadrian said thoughtfully. “I had spent my whole life being told I was a freak who’s drunken parents died in a car crash and then suddenly I’m thrust into a world where I’m famous for vanquishing the Dark Lord Voldemort and my parents were war heroes who died tragically protecting me."Taking a long swig from his glass, Hadrian leaned back in his seat, crossed one leg over the other and continued. “I got that first letter and immediately knew my despicable Aunt and Uncle had known all along exactly who and what I was. I’ll be the first to tell you that whole family is lacking in the required number of brain cells for proper rational thought, so I figured they had to have some outside help with their lies.” Severus snorted. He knew Petunia Dursley nee Evans and he had to agree, there was no abundance of brain cells in her horse-like head. In fact, he would have attributed the lack of intelligence Potter seemed to display to her influence, had the old coot ever seen fit to inform him that's where he placed the boy all those years ago. “So,” Hadrian continued, “when Hagrid picked me up and started spouting nonsense about all the fantastical bullshit the great Albus Dumbledore has ever done, I knew it was something to do with him and I haven’t trusted him since.”  “The sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, it said I would be ‘great’ there, but after all the anti-Slytherin propaganda I received from Hagrid and Weasley, and Draco’s astoundingly shit first attempt at making friends,” Hadrian teased, winking at the blushing Malfoy heir, “I figured I wasn’t going to do myself any favours being in the house of snakes and managed to convince the hat to put me anywhere else. It chose Gryffindor.”“You’ve been a hidden snake all along?” Draco asked, wondering just how Slytherin the young man in front of him really was. Hadrian kept getting better and better in Draco’s eyes and he was astoundingly perturbed at the thought Hadrian had a mate somewhere out there, waiting for him to share his life with them.“Yes, they’ve, that’s Dumbles, the Weasleys, Granger and the Order, have been trying to dictate my life with absolutely no success since I was eleven. They’ve given me everything I could possibly need to make their lives a living hell and win the war for the Dark without Voldie-pants here having to lift a finger.”“Tom and I have been working together since my first year and he’s been sending me nutrient and healing potions since he found out about my life at the Dursley's at the end of second year. I’ve been glamouring the progress it’s made on my body and just taking it off made me look different enough. Thanks for that, by the way Severus.”“That’s what they were for?” Severus asked, having made an abundance of those potions for his Lord for years, even when the Dark Lord had no visible reason for them.“Yes, Severus. You have been unwittingly helping Hadrian here for years,” Tom said snickering at the look of shock on Severus’ face.“That’s probably why the vow hasn’t acted up,” Severus muttered to himself.“And what vow is that exactly, Severus,” Tom said, his voice suddenly dripping with barely concealed threat.“I - Ah,” Severus started, his face paling once more. Hadrian began to think they should wrap this up for the night fairly shortly, for nothing if not Severus’ blood pressure. “I made a vow to both Lily Potter and Dumbledore to protect Harry Potter with my magic and my life.” Severus was worried about his Lord’s reaction, not for making the vow, but for not disclosing this information sooner. “I see,” Tom said. “We shall be talking about this at a later date Severus. It is a good thing Hadrian is to be protected with your life no matter what side your on now, isn’t it?”Severus’ quiet “yes, my Lord” caused Hadrian to break out of his temporarily dazed state. “So many things make more sense now!” he said to the room. Ignoring the questioning looks from Barty especially, Hadrian sat back to think for a moment. “You’ll all find out when the rest of my wolves get here and we talk to Rita.” “Your wolves?” Lucius asked, moments before Draco attempted to ask the same question. “Ah, yes, my inner circle.” Hadrian said with smirk. “You’ll meet them all tomorrow morning.” Taking the opportunity to retire, Hadrian stood up. Barty stood with him, surprising everyone but the Tom with his action. “Barty and I better go write those letters Tom, I’ll see you all for breakfast in the morning,” Hadrian said, making eye contact with Draco as he added, “sleep well.”The Vampire Lord left the office followed by an obedient Barty, leaving behind a blushing young Malfoy and three highly amused wizards.

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(Thursday 19th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Tom's Study)Severus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Everything he had been told for the past sixteen years was a complete lie. His whole world had completely changed in a few hours of Hadrian Peverell talking and everything he thought he knew was wrong. He’d sworn an oath to protect this child and, quite obviously, he had failed in that task.His loyalty to the light after the death of Potter’s mother had been unnecessary as well. Apparently his Lord had honoured his request to spare Lily but the stubborn redhead refused to move aside and watch as her child died. The more he thought about it, the more Severus realised that of course Lily wouldn’t stand by and watch her child be murdered by an insane Dark Lord. Severus really was a fool to ever think she would be okay with that.His loyalty had always been with the Dark and the only thing that changed that was Dumbledore and his manipulations involving Severus’ one weakness. Now that the boy he had sworn to protect on Lily’s memory had come out and sworn allegiance to the Dark, Severus had no reason to ever think about allying himself with Dumbledore again.The boy had gone above and beyond, like he seemed to do with everything, and not just sworn allegiance to the Dark but became a Dark Lord in his own right. Or maybe, Severus considered, a Grey Lord or something more like that. He didn’t think Hadrian, no matter how Dark he got, could ever be as Dark as the Dark Lord himself.Severus was astounded by the dynamic of the two powerhouses as well. Hadrian said what he wanted to the Dark Lord, he called the man Tom for Merlin’s sake, and he got away with it without so much as a stinging hex, let alone the Crucio which was surely waiting for anyone else that tried it. There must have been some compelling evidence that convinced the Dark Lord to ally himself with his destined vanquisher, and Severus was sure no one else would ever know what it was.“My Lord?” Severus asked, when the room had been silent for a few moments. The Dark Lord was sitting back, watching Severus and the two Malfoys with a keen interest, probably gleaning whether or not they were a threat to his new ally, despite the amicable talk the six of them had just endured.“Yes, Severus?” the Dark Lord answered. Severus shrunk a little under the intense ruby red stare of his Lord.“Are there any on-going issues Lord Peverell needs medical potions for that you would like me to brew?” Severus watched as the Dark Lord evaluated him for a few moments. The Dark Lord stood up abruptly and made his way to the big, mahogany desk at the back of the room. He pulled a scroll of parchment out of one of the draws and made his way back to Severus, handing over the parchment.“That is his complete medical history and the scan after his treatment with the Goblins this morning. Take a look and brew anything you think he should take. I will handle getting him to actually take them. You may begin now.”“Yes, my Lord,” Severus replied, putting the scroll in an inner pocket of his robes. Not trusting himself to look at it now, knowing he would have an extremely adverse reaction to the information contained on the scroll. He stood, bowing to his Lord and exited the office, he had potions to brew.Lucius was left in the Dark Lord’s office with his son and his Lord. His mind was reeling from all the new information he had received this meeting. And, he was concerned about Hadrian Peverell’s ability to deceive people. He knew his Lord was an accomplished Legilimens and was the most Slytherin Slytherin of them all, but there was still the possibility that Hadrian Peverell was just one of Dumbledore’s minions.Seeing the look on the Malfoy Lord’s face, the Dark Lord said, “Lucius, you may speak your mind.”“Thank you, my Lord. It’s just -” he stopped, wondering how he should phrase this to make sure he didn’t end up out of his Lord’s favour. “Are you absolutely positive we can trust the boy, my Lord? You say he has been manipulating the light for six years, how is it you know that he hasn’t been doing the same to the Dark?”“I understand your concern Lucius, but it is unfounded. Hadrian is completely on our side and has been since he was eleven. He is the reason I stand before you today, more than a bodiless wraith and with my complete mental faculties once again,” the Dark Lord said.“He has been cleared of all the potions and spells manipulating his personality and, there is also the fact that his mind is, and will continue to be, completely impenetrable to anyone but me.” Lucius was shocked at this statement. How could someone so young have such a strong mind, especially with what Severus said about the boy’s Occlumency training in his fifth year? “He will never betray the Dark, Lucius. The cause is much too close to his heart for that to happen.”“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius said, trusting that his Lord would know if the boy turned out to be something dangerous.“You both will accompany me to meet Hadrian’s inner circle tomorrow,” the Dark Lord said to Lucius and Draco. “They will be here between ten and eleven, we shall meet in the sitting room before then.”“Do you know who they are, my Lord,” Draco asked, and Lucius had to suppress the urge to whack his son upside the head. You didn’t just ask the Dark Lord questions like that, no matter how good a mood he seemed to be in.“I have a fair idea about those he will invite,” the Dark Lord said, surprising Lucius with the ease of his response to the too-casual question from his son. “You will just have to find out tomorrow when we meet them, it is Hadrian’s secret to tell, though I imagine you will both be surprised.”“Take one of the guest rooms on the second floor each for tonight,” the Dark Lord said, finally dismissing the two Malfoys. Lucius pulled his son up from the seat next to him, they both bowed and walked out of the Dark Lord’s office. It had been a very long night.(Peverell Manor, Second Floor Corridor)Draco turned towards his Father as they reached the doors the guest suites of Peverell Manor. The Malfoy Lord was looking at him with concern shining through silver-blue eyes. “What is it, Father?” Draco asked with a sigh, not sure whether he could deal with anything else today.“Are you okay working with him, considering the past between the two of you? Do you think you can look past all that adversary?” Draco was surprised his Father was asking. He thought he was being obvious, especially in his own home, about the way he felt about Harry Potter. Well, Hadrian Peverell now.“Father, I’ve liked Harry Potter for three years. That he’s now a living Vampire, a budding Dark Lord and even hotter than the last time I saw him only makes it better, makes him that much harder to resist.” Draco said honestly. There was a time for hiding the truth, and in the company of his Father was not that time. In fact, Draco was sure Lucius would have figured it out very soon with the way he was watching Draco throughout the meeting.Lucius smirked, “I have a feeling you’re not going to be the one resisting, son. He sure didn’t mind looking at you tonight.”Draco smiled slightly at his father before turning towards the guest room again. He was not going to hope. The likelihood of Draco Malfoy being the mate of someone as impressive, physically, mentally and magically, as Hadrian Peverell was so slim in Draco’s mind there was little reason for contemplation.That didn’t stop Draco as he lay in his bed. He was in for a restless night, filled with dreams of raven hair, shining white fangs and the most impossibly bright, emerald green eyes.

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(Friday 20th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Sitting Room)Draco was nervous. He was standing in the sitting room of Peverell Manor, the Dark Lord and Hadrian’s home, waiting for the inner circle of followers to the second deadliest person he had ever met to arrive. He had no idea what to expect and, honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. But, the Dark Lord requested his presence and Hadrian Peverell hadn’t kicked him out yet, so he was required to see this meeting through. He just hoped Hadrian hadn’t invited a group of people from Hogwarts who hated him. That wouldn’t end well.Draco was standing next to his Father behind the seated form of the Dark Lord, watching the fireplace with growing anticipation. Hadrian Peverell was talking quietly with Barty, a man who was apparently allowed to leave the Dark Lord’s service and go into that of Lord Thanatos, on a couch to the left of the fireplace. Severus, ever the dour, antisocial type, was leaning against the wall to the right of the room. Looking out at its occupants with a blank mask. Only years of observing the man let Draco see that Severus was just as anxious about this meeting as him.The floo roared to life and two tall, lanky redheads stepped gracefully out of the fireplace. Their gazes immediately focused on Hadrian Peverell as they dropped into low bows. Simultaneous ‘my Lord’s came from the two guests before Draco realised that they were the Weasley twins. Hogwarts most accomplished pranksters, and not at all who he was expecting to follow and be respected by someone as powerful as Hadrian Peverell.“Ah, Fred, George, I’m very glad you could make it.” Hadrian said, his velvet voice made Draco shiver. What he wouldn’t give to have that voice directed at him.“My Lord, we came as quickly as we could,” one of the twins said, Draco wasn’t sure how to tell them apart. Or if there even was a way.“The vicious harpy who calls herself our mother was on our case about the shop again,” the other twin said and Draco was momentarily shocked by that statement. Were all the Weasley’s not on the same side. Draco just assumed that where Harry Potter lead, a flock of redheaded blood-traitors followed. He must have been wrong.“We do hope, my Lord -” one twin started.“That you have a plan -” the other said.“To take the whole lot down.”“Gods know they deserve it,” they finished together.Hadrian Peverell chuckled and Draco had to lock his knees. That sound made his knees weak and he would not buckle in front of the Dark Lord. Or, Merlin forbid, his Father. “There is a plan, my twins. Once everyone gets here we will go through it.”The twins nodded and Hadrian looked back at the fireplace as it roared to life again. Draco couldn’t contain his shock as the next person stepped out of the hearth. Never in his life would he have expected Neville Longbottom to ally himself with a Dark Lord, let alone be within the inner circle. Draco looked to his right and saw his godfather was thinking along the same lines. Surely Hadrian must know something the rest of them didn’t. If not, he had truly awful taste in followers.Longbottom bowed to Hadrian with a muttered ‘my Lord’ and Draco noticed that, not once, had any of the newcomers paid respect to the second Dark Lord in the room. He chanced a glance at Lord Voldemort and was surprised to see his face showed clear amusement. Nothing of the blinding rage he would have shown had one of his Death Eaters entered a room without acknowledging him.“My Lord, thank you for calling us so quickly. I have some information regarding the Order you will be interested to know,” Longbottom said, addressing Hadrian reverently as the twins moved into conversation with Barty. This was officially the weirdest group of people Draco had ever seen. How on earth did they all come together?“Good, Nev, has Sirius been in touch with -” Hadrian stopped as the floo roared again and a small, blonde girl glided out of the fireplace. Hadrian was by her side in a flash and Draco watched as the girl, Luna Lovegood if he remembered correctly, looked up into Hadrian’s eyes and smiled. “My Lord,” she said and Draco’s heart sank as Hadrian pulled the girl into a tight hug, nuzzling his nose against her neck, breathing in her scent. Well damn, he thought. She must be his mate.A low growl rippled out of Hadrian’s chest and Draco felt the unexpected need to sink to his knees. He steeled himself as Hadrian spoke, “Neville, introduce yourselves, we’ll be down in time for dinner. Twins, play nice.” And just like that, Hadrian Peverell whisked Luna Lovegood out of the room and disappeared. Draco could only hope that maybe, after all this time, he and Hadrian could just be friends.(Peverell Manor, Hadrian's Room)“You need to drink, my Lord,” Luna said as Hadrian warded the doors to his room. He was not being disturbed right now, not for anything. “You have been resisting your mate for too long already.”Hadrian turned to the veritable goddess sitting on the edge of his large four poster bed. Her silver blonde hair shining in the light streaming in from the window. She looked ethereal, beautiful and positively edible . Hadrian watched as Luna pulled her hair into a messy bun atop her head, bearing a long line of silky smooth, white skin. “I think I might have a type, little moon,” Hadrian said as he walked slowly over to the bed.“I think you do, my Lord.” Her tinkling laugh made his breath catch and he stopped, inches away from her, and stared. She was his donor. His to cherish, protect and love for all eternity. There would be nothing sexual about their intimacy, but there never had been with Luna. Hadrian had to wonder how he had not guessed this outcome already. Because of course she was his donor, she was the only person currently alive who had the ability to keep him sane. Keep him level headed, safe from himself and stop him from being a danger to others.“You need to drink, my Lord,” she said again and tilted her head to the side. Baring that perfect neck to him without fear or apprehension. Trusting him completely. Hadrian’s head swam with pure need.“Are you completely sure, little moon. You know I would never force you into this. You will have to live for a very long time,” Hadrian said. Using all of his strength to stay off her while he waited for an answer. Luna had most likely known about this for weeks, he knew, but there was no way he was taking away her choice. He would rather waste away than do something to hurt his Luna.She stood up then, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking straight into his eyes. “I promise you, Hadrian,” she said uncharacteristically serious, “there is nothing I am more honoured to be than your donor.”“Now, drink,” she pulled his head down to rest in the crook of her neck and Hadrian was overwhelmed by the complete rightness of her scent. He licked up her pulse, numbing the area with his venom, positioned his mouth right above her lifeblood and sank his fangs into the pure, creamy skin of her neck. The taste of her exploded in his mouth, sweet and unyielding and completely his .A low growl rippled out of his throat and he sank his teeth in further as he drank. His magic swirling around them as he claimed what was his forever.
(Peverell Manor, Formal Dining Room)
Draco was finding it exceedingly hard to keep an appetite as he sat in the dining room of Peverell Manor. Sat across from his father, to the right of the Dark Lord was Hadrian Peverell, looking completely content with a little blonde sitting on his lap. His strong arm was wrapped around her waist as he fed her food, straight from his plate. There was a slight smudge of red on Lovegood’s pulse point, making it glaringly obvious that the Vampire Lord had spent the better part of the day feeding off the young woman.Draco thought he knew enough about Vampires to know that feeding didn’t just mean drinking her blood. Vampires were a sexual species and the act of feeding was supposed to be extremely erotic. Jealousy washed over Draco in waves as he watched Hadrian draw Lovegood closer, breathing in her scent. It was exceedingly unfair to Draco that someone who shared so many physical traits with him should be allowed to be Hadrian’s mate but he could not.Someone cleared their throat next to Draco and he turned to face the Weasley twins. Draco had never spoken to the twins in his time at Hogwarts and looking at them eating at with his family was unnerving. The Malfoys and Weasleys had been at odds with each other for decades and he never would have thought this day would come.“I don’t imagine he’s going to be letting her go any time soon,” one of the twins said, nodding his head slightly in the direction of Hadrian and Lovegood.“I wouldn’t think so,” the other said. “He’s gone the past few days without his mate as well and, no matter how strong he is -”“He still needs someone to ground him.” Draco was struck by the meaning of the twins words. Lovegood was Hadrian’s donor, not his mate. Did that mean that Draco still had a chance? He could only hope, right?“It must have been a painful few days,” the second twin said. A look of pain flashing through his eyes. Draco thought these two must really care about their Lord.“That’s our Lord though, never complains,” the first twin said again. Looking away from Draco to the two sitting across the table with a fond smile. Draco looked back to see Lovegood leaning back into Hadrian as the Vampire’s arm tightened around her. Jealousy crashed through Draco yet again, making his heart hurt at the thought that he might never be able to be in that position. It never occurred to Draco that he was having such strong reactions to Hadrian because, that is exactly where he was always meant to be.

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(Friday 20th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Sitting Room)
Hadrian stiffened as he sensed his mate walking into the room. His hands tightened around the waist of the girl on his lap. The scent of both his donor and mate in the same room was driving the young Vampire crazy, especially since his mate had not yet been claimed and was surrounded by potential threats.“Luna this is going to be harder than I thought.” He ran his nose along the line of her neck, breathing in her scent, salivating at the steady beat of her pulse under his touch. An impulsive decision and a quick wave of his hand put a privacy ward around the pair, blocking them out from the rest of the Peverell Manor sitting room.“You know, my Lord, you could just tell him.” His little moon bared her throat more, drawing a soft growl from Hadrian.“I will not force this kind of connection on him Luna, you know that,” he said as his fangs dragged along her skin. “He will come to me when he wants me.”“Of course he will, my Lord.” She gasped as his long fangs pierced her skin. Blood, hot and sweet rushed into Hadrian’s mouth as he sucked  at his donor’s pulse. He pulled away after a few mouthfuls, delirious look on his face as he licked the wound closed, pulled down his wards and leaned back in his chair.Across the room, his beautiful blonde mate looked at the pair with unmasked jealousy written across his face. Hadrian knew he wouldn’t have to wait long before either he or Draco snapped.Severus was waiting in the Peverell Manor sitting room, surrounded by students he had never even pretended to like, his Lord and two of the least annoying Death Eaters.Severus was tired.It had been a very long two days and he had this terrible feeling that whatever Hadrian Peverell had decided to do to wreak havoc on the world would, at some point, involve Severus cleaning up Peverell’s mess or saving his stupid hide. Again.Severus was, however, dedicated to the Dark and the Dark Lord’s goals. And if his Lord believed that Hadrian Peverell would be instrumental in achieving those goals, Severus would do as he was told. It was what he was best at, after all.And if Albus Dumbledore came away from this with barely a scrap of his current power and social standing, Severus would be an extremely contented man.Sitting next to Severus on a large bronze and blue couch was one of the only people Severus would think to call friend, Lucius Malfoy. Severus was intimately acquainted with the less than stellar aspects of Lucius’ personality and therefore was not remotely surprised when the blonde man stood up suddenly and pointed an accusing finger at Hadrian Peverell. An extremely stupid thing to do in Severus’ eyes, considering said Vampire was currently in the presence of his Donor and his inner circle. Threatening Vampires in front of what they considered theirs was, generally, just a horrible idea if you wished to keep your blood inside your veins.“I need some explanations,” Lucius said bluntly and Severus wondered, not for the first time, how this man made it into Slytherin. He could see Draco a few chairs over thinking something similar and felt a surge of pride for his godson. He was much more sensible than his father.Peverell, who had been in a deep discussion with Barty Crouch Jr., of all people, while he wasn’t not-so-secretly draining the blood out of Lovegood, turned from the younger Death Eater and raised a hand to quell Crouch’s snarl in Lucius’ direction. “Yes, Lucy dear, what can I explain for you?”The Malfoy Lord’s face flared at the nickname and Severus was amused to note the Dark Lord snorting into his whiskey glass, clearly enjoying the entertainment. Even though the Dark Lord was back to being as sane as he was when Severus pledged his loyalty, if not saner, the Dark Lord still enjoyed the humiliation of his followers every now and then. Or maybe it was just Lucius.“You!” Lucius spluttered out and Severus could see Draco’s face getting increasingly more mortified. His father was about to make a fool of himself. “How did you do this?” he gestured wildly around the room, “Do you really expect me to believe you have been deceiving us all this time?”Severus thought that, yes, Peverell had most likely been deceiving them all this time and that he, along with the entire wizarding world, had severely underestimated the wrath of an intelligent and powerful young man. Severus was glad to be on Peverell’s good side and was not going to be doing anything, any time soon to change that position. No matter how much he hated the boy’s father.“Well Lucy,” Peverell drawled, a hint of a growl lacing his voice. “As I have proven to you already, you don’t know me.” The arm wrapped protectively around the Lovegood girl tightened and Peverell’s eyes flicked briefly to Draco.“As far as I can see, the likelihood of me deceiving you of all people, and getting away with it, is considerably more likely than your ego is able to admit. So, I will ignore this rude outburst and kindly ask you to return to your seat before you see what threatening me in the presence of those that are mine will do to you.”Severus noticed the young Vampire’s eyes flick to Draco yet again and a sense of dread worked its way into his stomach. He had a feeling Peverell knew exactly who his mate was and was going to be especially irritable until that bond was claimed. Lucius was sure to be on the receiving end of a lot of Vampire ire when Draco was around if he continued to deny Peverell’s authority.Lucius sat back stiffly on the couch and glared at the young Vampire, shrinking back slightly when a growl rippled through the air. Severus did not fail to notice the slight blush that appeared on Draco’s cheeks at the show of dominance the Vampire displayed and knew there was already nothing he could do to stop his godson from eventually bonding with, possibly, the most powerful creature in the world. At least he couldn’t aim any higher.“Perhaps, Hadrian, we should explain a little more before poor Lucius here loses his head?” the Dark Lord said, unsuccessfully hiding his smirk behind his whiskey glass once again. Lucius shrunk further back into the couch as he remembered the Dark Lord was present in the room for his outburst. Severus wanted to pity his friend, but couldn’t deny that Lucius got himself into these situations all on his own.“Are all those things people talk about true?” Draco asked. “Like did you really stab a Basilisk with the sword of Gryffindor?” Severus was admittedly quite excited to find out what the Golden Boy had actually got up to during his years at Hogwarts. People worshiped the ground he walked on and, despite the proof sitting in front of him that Hadrian Peverell was nothing short of brilliant genetically, Severus wanted to know what more Dumbledore had been hiding from him concerning the boy.“Well,” Peverell started, “there was the Philosopher’s stone in first year. Dumbledore had it all planned out to trap Tom and test me at the same time, but he obviously didn’t count on me having a mind of my own.”“I managed to make a cheap replica of the stone, steal the real one and get a vow of non-combatants from old grumpy-face here all before Christmas. The test at the end of the year was all for show and I’m honestly still baffled that the man was so completely fooled by an eleven year old and a clinically insane wraith. He really is getting old.”Looks of approval were shared through the room. “You made a Philosopher’s stone that was convincing enough to fool Dumbledore?” Severus said, looking at Peverell like he had never seen him before, and in truth he probably hadn’t. He had realised in the past two days that the Harry Potter Dumbledore had essentially described for the world was nothing like the young man in front of him.“Well yeah, but it never would have worked as one.”Severus didn’t even want to think about the dismissive tone Peverell used when saying that. This boy always managed to give him a headache, secret prodigy or not.“Second year was all Lucius really, wasn’t it Tom?” Hadrian said. Eyes full of mischief as the Malfoy Lord paled considerably and shrunk even further into the couch. Severus decided that he needed to have a chat with Narcissa. They needed to keep a closer eye on the blonde prat before he got himself killed.“Indeed,” Tom said, “he should be exceedingly grateful that you and I were working together already because that year could have ended very painfully for him.” Lucius glanced at Peverell with, what was probably a pleading look, and Peverell couldn’t help but laugh.“Yes, well, I had a wonderful time conversing with your diary my dear and, even though I had to deal with the major temper tantrum at the end of the year, I have to say it’s one of the most engaging conversations I’ve had with you.”Gasps came from both Malfoys and Severus who were shocked beyond belief that someone would dare talk to their Lord in that manner. Barty just smothered an amused snort, slightly more used to the way the two Lords interacted, but never willing to incur either of their wraths.Severus noted that Peverell’s followers were gazing at the Vampire with awe in their eyes. There was no doubt that the boy had them completely in his pocket and he wondered if this was what it was like when the Dark Lord himself was at school. What a terrifying thought indeed.“I never did kill the basilisk, Draco, but I did find the sword of Gryffindor while I was down in the Chamber.” Peverell said gazing intently at Severus’ godson with a look in his eye that confirmed his earlier suspicions. He was going to have to look out for anyone that would become a threat to the blonde boy, lest he have to deal with a potentially homicidal and extremely protective Vampire. “I’ll show them both to you one day, if you like?”Draco nodded emphatically and Severus sent up a prayer to whatever gods were listening that the world would survive Hadrian Peverell and Draco Malfoy working together.“Third year was a clusterfuck completely the fault of Peter fucking Pettigrew.” Peverell snarled and Severus had to agree with him on that one. The little rat was possibly the most hated man in all of magical Britain for all the trouble he’d caused. “Can I have him by the way?” Peverell asked, turning to the Dark Lord with a questioning look.“He’s already in the dungeons waiting for you, my dear,” the Dark Lord said with a smile that could cut diamond. Peverell only smiled back just as sharply.He adjusted Lovegood’s position on his lap and began talking to the room again. “Tom had begun sending me nutrient potions and food the summer before so I was stronger that year than the ones before. The Dementors were a pain though.” Peverell said and Severus was once again hit by the realisation that he had been brewing potions for the boy for a very long time, and was likely one of the only reasons he was alive and healthy right now. It was a strange feeling for Severus and he wasn’t sure how to feel after so long actively hating the brat.“I found out Pettigrew was the traitor from Tom the year before and had no idea why Sirius was so intent on getting in to Hogwarts until I saw the stupid rat’s name on the Map.”“What map?” Draco asked and Severus was glad he wasn’t the only one who picked up on that and wanted to know more. He didn’t want to seem curious after all.“My fathers, Remus Lupin and Pettigrew made a map of Hogwarts when they were in school. It shows not only where everything is, including secret passageways and whatnot, but also where every person in the castle is. It can’t be fooled by polyjuice, animagi or invisibility cloaks and is really quite handy at insulting people.” The stupid brat had the audacity to wink at Severus then and he had the quell the instinctive urge to take ten points from Gryffindor.“I can still confiscate items when we get back to Hogwarts, brat,” Severus said to the bane of his existence. “And give you detention.” He added just because he could.“Ah, but Severus, then I wouldn’t let you use it,” the boy smirked at him and damn if he wasn’t a little bit tempted. “And what would be the fun in that?” Severus scoffed dismissively but said no more on the matter undoubtedly confirming his desire to see, and thus use, the possibly ingenious creation of the thrice damned Marauders.  “That year ended as all others have, with a showdown between that year’s ‘great threat’ and my ‘friends’. The Weasel, Granger and I ended up following Pettigrew and my godfather to the Shrieking Shack where my information from Tom was confirmed and Pettigrew was revealed to the rest of the Golden Trio. We were interrupted by Lupin and Severus and it all went to shit from there.”Peverell looked a little exasperated, and Severus really couldn’t blame him. If he had gone through half of the ‘challenges’ Albus Dumbledore had put the boy through, he’d be a little exasperated too. Perhaps more so, but he doubted he was seeing all of Peverell’s emotions right now.“We decided to take everyone up to the castle to sort everything out legally and then the full moon came out. Lupin is a werewolf, you see, and after nearly thirty years of taking the wolfsbane potion every full moon, without fail, he ‘forgot’ that night.” Severus’ eyebrows rose, he hadn’t thought of that. He’d always been too busy disliking the wolf on principle.“I’m convinced Dumbledore had some interference, and knew exactly what was going on in the Shack, because after being attacked by a werewolf and ambushed by over a hundred Dementors, Dumbledore sent me and Granger back in time to save a Hippogriff and an Azkaban escapee. Both of whom could have been saved by Albus-I-hold-a-position-on-every-board-imaginable-Dumbledore with little effort on his part. In fact, I have all but confirmed that Sirius wasn’t allowed to be free in Dumbledore’s eyes because it meant I would legally have a closer blood relative than the Dursley’s.”Lucius looked shocked and Severus hoped he wasn’t going to say something stupid again. “Sirius Black is a blood relative of yours?” Draco looked intrigued as well but Severus noted that everyone else in the room seemed to know what this meant. He hated being in the dark like this.“Yes, my Grandmother was a Black from the main line. And, when I was born, Sirius blood adopted me and named me his heir. He knew even then that he would produce no heirs himself and I have always been like a son to him.”Lucius looked enraged again. Severus really had no idea why this made any difference to the man’s life, or why it made him angry, despite the knowledge there was a child who shared blood and genetics with the stupid Black mutt. “ You’re the Black heir?” Severus’ blonde disaster of a friend said incredulously and Severus had to stop himself from lowering his head into his hands and groaning in despair. Lucius really was too prideful sometimes. He had no right to his wife’s former family’s title despite his insistence.The haughty look Peverell sported now told Severus exactly how he felt about his inheritance being questioned by a Lord of lower standing. “No, Lucius,” the young Vampire purred, “ I’m the Black Lord.”The blonde was standing up again before Severus could stop him, his face contorted in rage. “You don’t deserve such a title,” he sneered and Peverell just leaned back in his seat seemingly at ease with the situation. Despite this, Severus could see the tenseness of his shoulders and was sure the Vampire would be at Lucius’ throat within a second if he were pushed too far. “That title belongs to my son, not some filthy halfblood.”The room was silent except for the slightly ragged breathing coming from the Malfoy Lord. Severus was shocked. He could see Draco was shocked too.As was the Dark Lord. And Peverell’s followers.Barty looked positively murderous.Hadrian Peverell did something completely unexpected. He laughed.A loud, probably genuine laugh that seemed to increase the tension in the room rather than ease it.“Is that right, Lucius?” Peverell said, his voice turning dangerous as he passed the Lovegood girl to Barty and finally stood. He was taller that Lucius only by a centimetre or two but he seemed to tower over the Malfoy Lord as his magic whipped around him. “I have purer blood than you could ever hope to have, Lord Malfoy.” The title was said with such condescension that Severus would bet his best cauldron even Lucius could pick up on it.“I have the blood of a Most Noble and three Most Ancient and Noble Houses running through my veins and I am the Lord of all four of them. You speak to me as if I am below you, but one word from me and your family name becomes synonymous with dirt throughout the British Isles. Every name I hold is older and richer and more respected than the Malfoy name and, if you push me Lucius, I have thousands of years to watch as every Malfoy who thinks themselves better than me falls. And they will know it is all your fault.”Severus watched as his friend’s face got considerably paler as Lord Peverell continued to talk. He re-organised his mental schedule to make sure he spoke to Narcissa as soon as possible. He didn’t think Peverell would ruin Draco but he had to make sure Lucius knew his place.“I am a full-blooded Living Vampire and therefore the literal top of the magical hierarchy, Lucius. So much more than the diluted Veela blood you try to hide from the world while you preach blood purity like you aren’t a hypocritical idiot who doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” Peverell was in Lucius’ face now. Fangs bared, eyes glowing and magic choking the air from the room. Lucius was fucked if he didn’t stand down and Severus hoped he knew that.“The only reason I haven’t already taken action against your disrespect, Lucius, is because your Lord likes you for some reason that I will never understand. I do not want to ruin your son and the pride he has in your Family name but I will if you continue to push me. Do you understand Lucius?”Lord Peverell stalked back to his seat and sat in the most elegantly lazy position Severus had ever seen. One ankle crossed over the other leg and arms spread on the arm rests, he looked sculpted by the gods, like a predator wrapped up in the most beautiful and dangerous package they could come up with. Lucius was fucked.“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius said meekly, attempting to retreat to his seat when Peverell cleared his throat.“No, Lucius, I think you should address me with my full title tonight.” Peverell said, malice veiled behind a pleasantly sweet expression. Severus thought it was likely more terrifying than the anger he displayed just moments before. “That would be Lord Peverell-Ravenclaw-Black-Potter, to you,” the young Vampire said and Lucius’ eyes widened.“Heir Slytherin as well if you don’t mind,” the Dark Lord said darkly and Severus was sure Lucius would be facing the wrath of their Lord at some point in the near future. Why he couldn’t just keep his mouth shut and act like a Slytherin, Severus didn’t know.He sneaked a look at Draco and sighed at the mortified look on the Malfoy heir’s face. Likely he could not believe his Father would lack even a modicum of tact or decorum in any situation. Especially in present company.Lucius bowed then, low and deep. Just a fraction higher than he usually would for his sworn Lord. His face deathly pale and displaying the full depth of his regret at speaking out of turn. “Yes my Lord Peverell-Ravenclaw-Black-Potter, Heir Slytherin. I apologise.” Peverell nodded his approval and Lucius slunk back to his seat. He was likely to remain silent for the rest of the night.

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(Friday 20th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Sitting Room)
Barty looked on in awe as his young Lord ripped into Malfoy. He loved watching his Lord work. The kid could talk his way out of or into anything and leave whoever his poor victim was thinking it was their own idea. It was fascinating to watch and he could barely contain his excitement as Malfoy, the idiot, pushed and pushed his Lord until he finally snapped.Looking at Lucius now, he could tell the blonde’s tail would be between his legs for a while. Especially when Tom had a talk with him as he was doubtless to do.“Where was I?” Hadrian asked the room in general, easing the tension that had been thick in the air from the moment he stood up.“Your fourth year, my Lord,” Barty said, emphasising his formality despite having permission to address his Lord informally. He felt the situation called for it. It would send a clear message to Malfoy and Snape just who had his loyalty.Barty released his protective hold on Luna when she moved to approach Hadrian again and watched the young Malfoy’s face as she sat on Hadrian’s lap. They fit perfectly together and young Draco seemed to think so too. The jealousy clearly written across his face. Barty hoped Hadrian gave up trying to respect the blonde’s boundaries soon because he really didn’t want to watch the boy spew hormones everywhere for the next two months. For his Lord’s sake as well as everyone who had to watch them.“Thank you, Barty,” Hadrian said and Barty tried to hide the pride he felt at the compliment. The knowing look Hadrian gave him told him it didn’t work, Barty and all his Lord’s followers couldn’t help it. Their Lord was all kinds of perfect; physically, mentally and magically, and that he approved of them was awe-inspiring for them all.“Fourth year was when I became who I am today. The triwizard tournament was completely insane, even more so when Dumbledore put my name in the Goblet of Fire. I shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Tom wasn’t going to do anything to me so Dumbledore had to make something happen yet again.” Hadrian rolled his eyes like it was nothing too terrible but Barty remembered that year. He remembered the fear his Lord tried so hard to hide from the masses. The ridicule he was subject to just because he was unwillingly entered into a competition meant for adults and the Prophet thought he was just vying for attention.“Tom sent Barty to watch over me when he heard what was going on that year and we got to talking. He taught me a lot that year and I taught him a few things myself. Barty’s the main reason I survived the stupid competition and, because of that, he became my first marked follower.”Barty smiled at that thought. He really was proud of his position in his Lord’s ranks. Though Neville might seem to be Hadrian’s right hand, Barty was there first and he had the complete trust and appreciation of his Lord. He had helped his Lord when no one else would, even before he had sworn his loyalty. He really did love Hadrian and would follow him through anything.Barty remembered when Hadrian first approached him about his ‘get revenge on Dumbledore’ plan, the look of pure determination that shon out of Hadrian’s eyes had him captivated from the beginning. Hadrian was more determined than Barty had ever seen the Dark Lord and he had a sort of natural charisma that, even before his Creature Inheritance, rivalled that of a young Tom Riddle.He could get anything he wanted with just a smile and his wide, innocent eyes. He managed to completely fool the entire world into thinking he was the epitome of light for six years. All that while being the most observed teenager in wizarding Britain and after dealing with his horrible childhood. Barty was proud of his Lord and was so thankful to Tom for allowing him to change his mark. It was the best decision he had ever made.“Pettigrew had this stupidly insane thought that, if he portkeyed me to the Dark Lord he would be handsomely rewarded and I would end up dead. So he snuck into Hogwarts, charmed the triwizard cup into a portkey and, when Cedric and I took the cup, we were transported to the graveyard near Tom’s muggle relatives house. He has wards there that alert him to people trespassing on his land and ended up meeting us there. That wasn’t before the stupid rat came and killed poor Cedric.” Hadrian’s face was impassive, but Barty remembered how distraught his young Lord was at the death of his friend. Cedric was an unnecessary death and Lord Thanatos did not condone such a thing at the best of times, let alone when they’re possible followers.“I’m still mad at him for that thoughtless mistake,” Tom said, his face expressing a little of the deep hatred Barty knew he felt for the rat animagus. “If you didn’t have plans for him Hades, I would have killed him years ago.”“Thanks ever so much, Tom,” Hadrian flashed a grin at the Dark Lord. Barty was once again struck with the ease of the relationship between the two Lords. When he was first tasked with watching over Hadrian, Barty was sure the Dark Lord was just protecting an investment. But the longer he spoke to either of them, the more he realised Tom actually cared for Hadrian. Though he would never admit to something so plebeian as positive human emotions, Barty knew the Dark Lord would be glad to call Hadrian his son. He certainly put enough effort into keeping the kid alive.“Tom and I talked for a bit, came up with a story and I went on my way back to Hogwarts with Cedric’s body. I told Dumbledore the truth; that Pettigrew portkeyed us to one of the Dark Lord’s bases in order to kill me. He killed Cedric as soon as we landed and I managed to hold Pettigrew off until I could get back to the Cup.” At the confused look the room was giving him, Hadrian chuckled a little.“Dumbledore took that to mean that Tom was back and proceeded to tell everyone that I had this epic battle with him. He’s been telling everyone he could for two years and Tom’s just been sitting back watching him destroy his own reputation, so something good came of it all, I guess”Tom snorted and raised his refilled glass in Hadrian’s direction. “You did well my dear, keeping him occupied while we began our overthrow of his Light world.” Barty could heart the contempt in Tom’s voice as he talked about the Light side and agreed with it. Dumbledore needed to be taken down and that was exactly what his Lord was trying to do.“I marked Barty at the end of that year. Tom was generous enough to remove his Dark Mark, as long as I replaced it.” Hadrian gestured to Barty and he lifted the sleeve on his left arm revealing the mark of Lord Thanatos. The outline of a howling wolf looked up at a full moon. Inside the moon, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows was present, the line of the Elder Wand replaced with a flaming Phoenix feather. It was in a different place for each of Hadrian’s followers but Barty’s took the place of the Dark Mark, running up the inside of his left arm.There were gasps from the three who had never seen it before and Barty felt immensely proud to bare the beautiful mark of his Lord.“How many have you marked?” Snape asked and Barty watched as Hadrian’s eyes assessed the Potions Master critically. Clearly wondering whether to trust the Professor with this knowledge. It was fair to be critical, Barty thought, Snape was a spy after all. He had expressed concern over the wellbeing of Hadrian more than once over the last few days but he was in the most precarious position a person could be in this war. Except, of course, Hadrian himself.“A few, Severus,” Hadrian finally replied, sending a small smile to the man when he glared at Hadrian for the vague answer. “Most of the DA is now marked by me, if you must know. Those loyal to Dumbledore, Weasley and Granger were left in the dark but everyone else has turned to our cause. A few have graduated, a few Order members and I have a few in my sights for this year.” Snape had an impressed look on his face as he regarded Hadrian. Barty knew the feeling. For someone as young as Hadrian, he had an impressive number of people willing to follow his every word. Willing to take up his cause and serve under him for as long as he lives. Which, considering what he is, is a very long time. Barty knew he had done the right thing in pledging his loyalty to Hadrian Peverell. He would win this war, creating a better, safer world for all magical beings. Barty couldn’t wait to see it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Saturday 21st June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Sitting Room)
“Ah, Rita,” Hadrian said with a smile that promised nothing good, “so good of you to join us.” Hadrian watched as the reporter entered the room and her eyes widened. It was an odd group of people, he had to admit, and it was certainly comforting to realise the sneaky bug was already off-footed and the meeting hadn’t even started yet. Draco, Lucius and Severus were sitting on a couch off to the side, watching intently and likely wondering why they were included within this discussion. Hadrian’s Wolves were scattered around the room, eyeing Skeeter intently, constantly on watch while their Lord was in the presence of a potential enemy. Tom stood just behind Hadrian, his hand on his shoulder and a powerful glamour changing his features ever so slightly to be closer to Hadrian’s. Not that it was particularly difficult to begin with, they were already very similar. Tom’s hair had darkened to a deep chocolate brown, his eyes changed to an enticing blue-green that seemed to shift between the two as he moved his head, and his skin tone had darkened a shade or two to match Hadrian’s golden tan. In short, they looked very much like father and son.“Mr. Peverell,” Rita said, seeming to regain her confidence as she attempted to saunter her way up to Hadrian. “It is so good to finally meet you. I am honoured that you would ask me to be here today.” Hadrian’s smile was as fake as Skeeter herself as he watched the woman lie through her teeth. He chose to forgo the warm welcome she was clearly expecting and got to the point. “Yes, well,” he said, “are you aware, Rita, that being an unregistered animagus is a five year sentence in Azkaban? And that’s without all the breach of privacy lawsuits that would undoubtedly follow if anyone were to find out you’d been bugging their conversations.”Hadrian smirked as Skeeter paled. She nodded her head quickly and stuck out her hand for Hadrian to shake. “What is it that I can be doing for you, Mr. Peverell?” she blurted, clearly ruffled by the threat from someone she had never met and Hadrian was content to keep this meeting going. “I have the story of the century for you, Rita darling, and you are going to make sure it gets out at the right time and in the right way, so to speak.” Hadrian paused, leading Rita to the couch in the middle of the sitting room. Sitting with Tom across from her and picking up a piece of parchment from the table between them. “You will be remembered for a very long time as the one to uncover the dark side of the Light, and all you have to do is sign this little non-disclosure contract here and we can get to business.” Tom snorted at the look of intrigue that crossed Skeeter’s face. Though the threats so far had been clear, it was obvious Skeeter would not need much persuasion in the face of such a potentially scandalising story. Skeeter picked up the parchment and read over the terms of the contract. She would be able to tell no one who her source was or speak, write or communicate in any way, any information that Hadrian had not given her express permission to release. She would be able to tell no one where she was going if she were ever to meet with Hadrian and Tom again and, if she broke these terms not only her magic was at risk, but her life. It was a harsh contract and Hadrian was not expecting Skeeter to pick up the quill he laid on the table and sign, no questions asked. “Very good Rita, now, what do you know about Harry Potter’s home life?” Rita looked momentarily shocked at the question but managed to school her features fairly quickly. Hadrian was a little impressed, but then again, Skeeter was a Slytherin in her time. “There’s not much to know Mr. Peverell. Albus Dumbledore has always been very secretive about the boy’s home, wouldn’t let any of us find him before he went to Hogwarts. Dumbledore has told everyone that he’s with his last living relatives and that he gets treated in a manner fitting of the ‘saviour’ he is.” “And exactly how inclined are you to believe that, Rita darling?” Hadrian asked, relishing in the sneer that crossed the reporters face at her mention of the Headmaster. “I admit I’m not sure Mr. Peverell. I’ve had two interviews with the boy, in his fourth and fifth year, though I never had the chance to ask him more than a few questions, what with Tri-wizard tournament going on and the Ministry breathing down my neck about You-Know-Who. You seem to think that his childhood is something worth talking about, though, Mr. Peverell?”“It is, my dear Rita, very important indeed,” Hadrian said, allowing a dramatic pause to build the tension. He had definitely been spending too much time around Tom. The bastard could never help himself when it came to dramatics. “You see, there’s a lot about Harry Potter’s home life that the poor boy has never had the courage to tell anyone, besides the Headmaster that is. You will have ample reason to delve into the specifics of our Chosen One’s home life when he sends you a package of information then, 12 hours later, is found dead in a cupboard in his relatives recently burnt down house.” Rita was pale and speechless and Hadrian could tell the moment she realised what he had implied. There were a few amusing moments of indecision on Rita’s part before she worked up the courage to ask, “Are you going to kill Harry Potter, Mr. Peverell?” “Well, Rita, in the barest sense of the word, yes, I am going to kill Harry Potter.” Hadrian smiled a dark smile, full of teeth and fangs. “Oh, don’t be so shocked Rita, you won’t be an accessory to murder, he’s not actually going to die. Just the name Harry Potter is going to die, and be replaced with something better, something he really should have been all along. It would have saved him some extremely unnecessary betrayal.” Skeeter was enthralled. Gazing at Hadrian in a way his inner circle were intimately familiar with. Much like Tom Riddle in his years preceding Hogwarts, when Hadrian spoke, people had no choice but to listen. He was a captivating speaker. Charming, charismatic and had a voice that demanded attention without being overpowering or condescending.“You see, Rita, Harry Potter is abused.” Skeeter paled and opened her mouth but Hadrian held up a hand to silence her. “When dear James and Lily Potter died that Halloween night, our Chosen One was left on the doorstep of his Muggle Aunt’s house in Surrey. From that day on he has been treated, in the simplest terms, as a poorly cared for House Elf.” “How does no one know about this?” Skeeter asked, her eyes so wide Hadrian could see how her animagus form was a beetle. “Albus Dumbledore does,” Hadrian said with an edge to his voice, staring intently at the woman in front of him as he watched her work her way through the information. She knew the old man’s reputation for keeping secrets he thought no one else was worthy of knowing and had made it her life’s mission to discover as many of those secrets as she could. That is exactly why Hadrian had chosen her, of all the sneaky reporters Wizarding Britain had to offer, to be his official reporter on all things Harry Potter and Dumbledore. “He -” she started, stopped, leaned back into the couch and then sat up abruptly, her tightly curled hair flying at the movement. “How do you know all this?” she demanded. “Well, Rita darling, that’s the best part,” Hadrian said with a mischievous glint in his eye that would rival the Weasley twins. “You see, I am Harry Potter.”Hadrian stood for a moment and put up his standard Harry Potter glamour before sitting back down, now seeming several feet shorter and three times skinnier. Rita’s eyes were wide as she took in the similarities between this and his previous form, the colour of his hair and eyes and his skin tone, clearly taking his evidence as proof of his claims. “How?” she asked again. “Well, I decided a few years ago that I no longer wanted to be Dumbledore’s puppet. He knew what was going on at my Aunt’s and refused to allow me to stay anywhere else when I asked him before summer every year. Every year something stupidly life-threatening happens at Hogwarts and he has resorted to very underhanded tactics to get me to comply with his plans. When I went to Gringotts when I got off the train this summer, I needed a Goblin grade purging ritual to clear my system of all the compulsion and personality altering potions he had fed me over the years.” Hadrian paused for breath and gauged Skeeters reaction. She looked suitably stuck between horrified that Dumbledore could do such a thing and elated at being given the opportunity to expose him. “I’ve become rather good a glamour spells and have been receiving healing potions from my dear Uncle here since the summer of ‘93,” Hadrian gestured to Tom and Skeeter seemed startled to remember they weren’t alone in the room. She eyed the glamoured Dark Lord and seemed to find a suitable amount of familial resemblance to accept this unknown as Harry Potter’s Uncle and turned back to a now un-glamoured Hadrian. “So, what Hadrian Peverell looks like, is closer to what Harry Potter has looked like for a while now. Not that anyone but Uncle Tom has seen me without a glamour for a very long time.” Skeeter was nodding her head absentmindedly and Hadrian could see her forming stories in her head already. It was good. She was enthusiastic and hadn’t even got her hands on the ‘good stuff’ yet. The longer he spent on this conversation, the longer Hadrian was willing to ignore the not-so-wonderful aspects of Rita Skeeter’s personality and establish a prosperous working relationship. “I want out of the Harry Potter shitshow, Rita, so in two days time, you will receive a package of documents detailing Harry Potter’s trip to Gringotts on the 17th of June. It includes a medical report detailing all the potions in his system from Dumbledore and the long lasting injuries and malnutrition he suffered at the hands of his relatives. There will also be proof that Harry Potter accepted his Potter and Black lordships on the 17th of June, some of the more public aspects of his Will and a letter to you that includes an autobiographical account of his life and states you will only receive the package in the event of his death.” Rita looked intrigued and Hadrian took a moment to see what Draco, Lucius and Severus thought. All three men looked slightly pale at the mention of Harry Potter’s less than stellar past but amused at the interaction between Hadrian and Skeeter. They could see Dumbledore’s name was about to be dragged through the mud and they were excited. Hadrian moved forward in his seat, staring directly into the eyes of the reporter in front of him. His voice deepened and held a tone of finality that clearly stated he was giving an order. “You will publish an article on Monday morning about the package you received, giving no specific details, but stating you have been given some concerning information about Harry Potter. That night Harry’s relatives house will go up in flames and, when the Aurors are eventually called, they will find Harry Potter’s body in the cupboard under the stairs. When inspecting the body the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will find that dear Harry departed from this world the day you received your information and therefore it was not the fire that killed him. It is then up to you how you choose to proceed in subsequent articles, but you will find that Albus Dumbledore has a lot of explaining to do.” Skeeter nodded her head, a malicious smile breaking out on her heavily made-up face and stuck out her hand for Hadrian to shake. “I think, Mr. Peverell, this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship.”Hadrian’s smile was just as sharp as he stood and led the reporter out of the room. Albus Dumbledore would never knew what hit him.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Saturday 21st June, 1997 : Peverell Manor Sitting Room)

Rita Skeeter left, following a House Elf to the floo, and Hadrian turned to Tom. “I think that went well,” he said with an overly pleasant smile. Snickers rippled throughout the room as the Wolves expressed their amusement at their Lord’s plan. Tom snorted and rose from his seat on the couch in the middle of the room. 
“Yes, Hadrian, I think it did. Are you ready to get going now?” Tom said, dismissing the rest of the room with a wave of his hand, not waiting for Hadrian’s reply before leaving the room.
Hadrian gave his Wolves, Draco, Lucius and Severus a large, toothy smile. “We’re off to Diagon for a few hours,” he said with a chuckle. “Going to introduce the Alley to the ostentatious Peverell funds.” He gave them all an enthusiastic wave and followed Tom out of the room with a cheerful “see you” to the slightly shell-shocked room. It would take a while for the group to keep up with their two Dark Lords.

(Diagon Alley)

Hadrian and Tom landed with a crack at the Apparation point just behind the Leaky Cauldron. They were here to make a statement so therefore, despite first having business with the Goblins, decided to apparate into Diagon Alley at the furthest point from the bank. Tom drew his wand, tapped out the sequence on the bricks leading into the Alley and Uncle and Nephew strode confidently out into the busy street.

Hadrian was used to stares whenever he ventured into the Wizarding World but, he noticed the ones he and Tom were receiving as they marched towards Gringotts were different. Appreciative glances directed at them both from witches and wizards all along the Alley mixed with the looks of envy or disgust at the obvious nature of their rich Pureblood status. It was clear that everyone was wondering who the handsome, rich, purebloods were and why no one had ever seen them before. Wizarding Britain was a fairly small place after all.

Tom reached out and guided Hadrian up the white marble steps of Gringotts bank with a hand between his shoulder blades. Hadrian stiffened at the contact but recognised its significance as a familial act and tolerated the touch of his pseudo-Uncle. They entered the atrium with short bows in the direction of the guard Goblins and looked around for a free teller. Hadrian noticed one in the most crowded part of the large room and smirked at Tom before walking towards the space.

Hadrian could hear Tom’s chuckle as he lifted the hold he had on his magic just slightly, causing the crowd to part as he walked through them, drawing even more eyes to the powerful pair. Hadrian reached the teller, bowed slightly and in a clear voice that rang out through the now silent bank introduced himself. “Greetings, Master Goblin, I’d like to request entry to my vault.”

The Goblin looked up from his paperwork and bared his sharp teeth in a way Hadrian had discovered was the Goblin equivalent of a smile. “Ah, Lord Peverell,” he said in a voice as clear and carrying as Hadrian’s. The crowd of witches and wizards surrounding them gasped at the title and Hadrian had to hide a smirk. He knew the news of his title would reach the ears of the entire Alley before he exited the bank. “Would that be your personal vault or the family vault?” the Goblin asked.

“The family vault if you will,” Hadrian said passing over a small golden key for the Goblin to inspect. “Uncle Tom needs some things from there too,” he added just to feed the masses more information to spread on his behalf. The Goblin smiled again, stepped down from his stool and the three headed down into the depths of the bank. 
Tom and Hadrian emerged into the sunlit alley after twenty minutes, money bags heavier and satisfied their names had sufficient time to travel the length of Diagon. “Do you fancy a spot of lunch, my dear?” Tom said after glancing at his pocket watch and noticing the time. Hadrian nodded his agreement and the pair walked towards a small restaurant directly opposite Gringotts. It was a favourite of Hadrian’s he discovered the summer before his third year, and it served the most wonderful Ravioli the young Vampire had ever had. 
They shared a meal at the window table in

Bonaventura’s

making sure Hadrian’s Lordship ring, recently released from its glamour on his left hand, glinted in the sunlight. They relished in the waiter’s loud use of their names as they paid and exited the establishment followed by stares, and Hadrian thought this couldn’t have gone better if they tried.

Hadrian led Tom through the shops, throwing the Peverell name and gold from one end of the Alley to the other. Hadrian bought everything a young wizard could need, that wasn’t included on a Hogwarts list, and immensely enjoyed Tom’s grumbles about over enthusiastic teenagers as the old man began to tire of all their planned attention. Leading Tom out of

Twittlefit and Tatting’s

, Hadrian caught sight of a familiar gaggle of red hair. The Weasleys.

“Look what we have here,” he said to Tom. “How much do you bet she’ll go straight to old Dumbles if we introduce ourselves?”

Tom looked in the direction Hadrian gestured and smirked at the sight of Mother Weasley and her two youngest making a beeline to the Peverells. “Oh this will be good,” Tom said as they ambled in the direction of the determined redhead. “He’ll be so focused on us, he’ll miss what’s coming.”

Hadrian turned from Tom just in time to see Molly Weasley stop right in front of him, a seemingly warm smile gracing her ageing features. He had to admire the woman’s ability to seem motherly in any situation, she truly was a superb actor. Ronald and Ginevra stood awkwardly behind their mother, puffing a little from their abrupt turn in the Peverell’s direction. Ronald sported a scowl Hadrian was intimately familiar with, that displayed his disgust at the fact that anyone could have more money than he did. Ginevra was simpering in Hadrian’s direction, batting her eyelashes in a way he was sure she thought was attractive, but looked more like she was trying to dislodge dirt from her eye.

“Oh, hello there,” Molly Weasley said in a kind voice that immediately grated on Hadrian’s nerves. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Molly Weasley and these are my two youngest Ron and Ginny.” The woman missed at least seven polite social cues, Hadrian noted, and her children didn’t so much as offer a nod in their direction. It was no wonder the Malfoy’s couldn’t stand them. Hadrian was so glad the potions were gone from his system.

Tom, seeing Hadrian lost in assessing the people he used to call friends, offered the Weasley matriarch a polite nod. “Thomas Peverell, Madam,” he said in what Hadrian called his posh voice, then gestured to the vampire, “and this is my nephew, Lord Hadrian Peverell.”

Hadrian offered his own nod and plastered a polite smile on his face, careful not to show his fangs. He knew the Weasley’s view on creatures and wanted them to suck up to him for the moment. “Mrs Weasley,” he said kindly, then turned his head to the two behind her, “Mr Weasley, Miss Weasley.”

“Oh no need for all that formality,” Molly started, “just call me Molly, Hadrian dear.”

Hadrian’s smile turned sharp for a second before the politely bland mask reappeared. “Oh no, Mrs Weasley, I’ve just met you, that would be impolite.” Molly looked affronted and Hadrian saw the twitch of Tom’s lips before he schooled his features.

“Of course not, dear,” Molly said, “I don’t mind at all.”

“Very well then,” Hadrian said, his polite mask secure on his face as he offered no familiarity to the woman who participated in so much betrayal.

“Are you still in school, Hadrian?” she asked and Hadrian new instantly where this was going. He was not even pretending to befriend Ronald Weasley this time, it wasn’t worth it. 
“Yes, I am,” he said and glanced at Tom. He knew where this was going too and was ready to back Hadrian up if he needed. “I was homeschooled for a while but Uncle Tom decided I needed a chance to network before taking my NEWTs, especially after taking up my Lordship. I’ll be at Hogwarts for my seventh year this year.” 
“Oh that’s wonderful, I never did approve of homeschooling,” Molly looked at Tom disapprovingly. “You’ll be in my Ron’s year then,” she pulled the scowling redhead forward, as if Hadrian didn’t know who she was talking about. “You should meet up to buy your school supplies. Ron here is friends with Harry Potter and they always meet up before the term begins to fetch their supplies, I’m sure you’ll fit right in with them.”

Hadrian ignored Tom’s muffled chuckles, thankful the Weasleys had their full attention on him for the moment. “You know Harry Potter?” he said with as much interest as he could muster when asking about himself.

“Oh yes, Ron is his best friend and Ginny here has always held his interest,” Molly said and Hadrian couldn’t stop his eyebrows rising. This was laughable. “He’s been dependent on our family since he came back to the Wizarding World, poor dear doesn’t understand our ways yet, even after all this time.”

Tom had turned his back now, apparently looking around the Alley in interest while Hadrian talked, he could see Tom’s shoulders shaking, however, and he would have to remind himself to hex the bastard as soon as they got home. “That is such a shame,” Hadrian said, hopefully hiding his sarcasm from the Weasleys, “though I am sorry to say I already have plans for school shopping so I will, regretfully, have to decline your offer.”

He gave a polite nod to the Weasleys in general, latched onto Tom’s elbow and with a ‘good day’ in the direction of his former pretend-friends, steered the annoying Dark Lord towards the Leaky Cauldron before Molly could reply. That was enough unplanned social interaction for Hadrian for today, it was time to go see his Wolves.

(Hogwarts, Headmaster’s Office)

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his high oak desk in the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry thinking. Harry Potter had only recently gone back to the Dursley’s and Albus hoped the muggles would take his advice and be harsher on the boy this summer. The way Harry had been acting throughout this year was concerning. The boy was thinking for himself and Albus could not have that.

Harry had been especially independent in regards to his lessons on young Tom Riddle. The boy was obviously drawing far too many similarities between their two situations and had the nerve to yell at Albus for his treatment of Tom when they first met in the orphanage. That Harry would think Albus could treat young Tom, who was already so corrupted by the dark, even at such a young age, with anything other than caution astounded the Headmaster. Tom was scaring children and controlling snakes at the age of eleven, there was nothing Albus could have done to push him over to the Light by that point.

He had to make sure Harry was downtrodden and malleable when he came back to Hogwarts for his seventh year. Maybe he could postpone his visit to Headquarters until the last week of the holidays. Give the Dursley’s more time to get the boy back in line. Yes, that would do it. Harry would miss celebrating his seventeenth birthday and was spending far too much time with his godfather as it was. Oh, how Albus wished he could get Black sent back to that hellhole called Azkaban. But Harry would never forgive him, and Albus needed the boy on his side. He had too much wealth and influence to lose.

Albus smiled to himself at a plan well constructed and was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice the chime notifying him he had an incoming floo call. “Albus!” Molly Weasley’s shrill call rang out through his silent office and Albus cringed. Molly was a good witch. She took great care of her children, was rather nifty with potions and had been instrumental in his plans to keep hold of young Harry all these years. Her voice, however, cut through Albus’ ears like glass and he dreaded the times she sent Howler’s to her poor children. It was a wonder none of them were deaf what with all her banshee like screeching throughout their childhoods.

Sighing at the thought of talking to Molly Weasley for what would probably be the next half an hour, Albus schooled his features into that of his standard grandfatherly mask and called for Molly to come through. “What can I be doing for you Molly, dear?” he asked, eyes twinkling merrily.

“You will never guess who I just met down in Diagon Alley, Albus.” Albus was immediately intrigued. There weren’t many people in Wizarding Britain that Molly Weasley had not met. Newcomers were rare and Albus could always use more people on the side of the Light. “I was taking Ginny and Ron to

Madam Malkin’s

for some new dress robes for the Spring Ball you have planned for this year and bumped into two young men I have never seen before. One of them looked about my Ron’s age so I just

had

to go and find out why I’d never seen the boy.”

Albus’ eyebrows rose. Newcomers were rare but newcomers of a Hogwarts age were even rarer. Knowing Molly, she would have pushed her son on the new lad and Albus wondered whether he would be seeing a new addition to the Order’s younger members by September.

“Now, they both seemed fairly nice, if a little formal,” Molly continued, “but that must be expected from those old pureblood types. The older man looked around his mid thirties, but you know how we all look the same until we reach sixty so I couldn’t be sure, and he said his name was Thomas Peverell.”

Albus’ eyebrows must have disappeared into his hairline by this point. A Peverell? And not just a decedent but from the main line, if his last name was to be believed. How had he not known about this man? He had come across the Peverell name when looking for the Deathly Hallows in his youth and found that the line died out years ago. No one could claim the Lordship because no one knew where the line had ended up. The Peverell’s were a very secretive family and they hadn’t been heard of in centuries.

“And the younger boy,” Molly continued without so much as checking to see Albus was keeping up. It was a good thing her voice was so distinctive, in this case at least, otherwise Albus would have been too caught up in his thoughts to listen. “He said his uncle, Thomas Peverell, had been homeschooling him but that he was coming to Hogwarts to complete his seventh year in order to

network

of all things.” Molly told Albus with a look that said how much she disapproved of the idea of

networking

for children. She had never understood the advantage of being friends with people in high places.

“Is the boy going into politics?” Albus asked because that was the only reason he could conceive that a sixteen year old would need to network.

“Well I’m not too sure about that, our conversation was cut short. But his uncle did say the boy was Lord Peverell.”

“Lord Peverell?” Albus asked, incredulity practically oozing from his pores. No one had claimed the Lordship since 1640 and even then they hadn’t announced themselves in the Wizengamot so no one knew who he was. The only reason Albus came that far was because he bribed a low ranking Goblin into finding the information for him. “Did the boy have the Lordship ring?”

“Well,” said Molly, “I can’t say I saw his hands to be honest with you Albus. But I can go back out to Diagon and find out for you if you like?”

Albus nodded absentmindedly. His thoughts were racing, renewing his quest for the Hallows that could make him the Master of Death. If he could get this boy under his control, he could very well find the location of the missing Hallow. The Hallow he most desired and had never been able to trace. The Resurrection Stone.

“I introduced the boy, Hadrian Peverell he said his name was, to my Ron and I’m sure they will get along very well indeed. He seemed very interested in Harry, so they’ll have that in common, at least.”

“Very good, my girl. If you could find out about that ring it would be grand.”

“Of course, Albus,” Molly said as she made her way back over to the fireplace. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

Albus watched the witch disappear from his office in a flare of green flames and sat back in his chair, thinking. He would have to meet the boy first, of course, but if Hadrian Peverell could be persuaded to join the side of the Light, there would be no stopping Albus completing his plans. Many old pureblood lines would follow the lead of a Peverell, no matter how young the boy was. If Hadrian Peverell joined the Light, Albus Dumbledore just might go down in history as the man to bring the fall of Dark Magic and all the evil that went with it.

(Sunday 22nd June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Family Dining Room)

Hadrian sat, surrounded by his Wolves, enjoying a nice Sunday breakfast. The Elves had done especially well with the eggs this morning and Hadrian reminded himself to go down to the kitchen and thank the little creatures. It was always good to have the favour of the ones responsible for your food after all. He imagined it lead to significantly fewer poisonings. 
Two owls flew in through the open window and Hadrian smiled as his dear Hedwig swooped onto the table in front of him. She had no post for him today, but had taken to visiting him at breakfast regardless. She knew she was going to have to hide for a time while the whole business of Harry Potter’s death was sorted out and was seeking Hadrian’s company before she had to leave. He was going to miss his girl.

Hadrian was feeding Hedwig some of his leftover bacon when Neville, sitting to his right at the breakfast table, spoke up. “My Lord,” he said with amusement coating his voice. Hadrian was instantly intrigued and turned his attention to his right hand. “It seems you and Tom made the paper.” Neville passed over the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet and Hadrian looked down to see a large photograph of himself and Tom covering the front page.

“It seems as though our plan went better than we expected,” Hadrian laughed before opening up the paper to read the article accompanying the picture.

New Lord Come to Diagon

22nd June, 1997

Yesterday afternoon, Diagon Alley was graced with the presence of two handsome newcomers (see above). Through some extensive digging and a conversation with the lovely Mrs. Flourish from

Flourish and Blotts

I was able to find out who these dashing young men are, just for you dear readers.

The elder, Thomas Peverell, has been seen occasionally in Wizarding Britain for many years, though has never had an active part in our society. Why he would hide from us all with such a lovely face I don’t know, dear readers, but I shall endeavour to find out. I do, however, know that the man in question has led a single life for at least the past sixteen years while he has been raising his nephew, Hadrian Peverell.

Mr. Peverell was seen introducing his nephew to multiple people yesterday afternoon as the new Lord Peverell. Now, as you know, dear readers, there has not been a Peverell Lord since the time of the famous Peverell brothers; Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus. I was unable to determine which brother the two young men are descended from but their claim to the line is genuine. Several witness accounts confirmed that the young Lord Peverell was in fact wearing the Peverell Lordship ring that links to his accounts at Gringotts.

Lord Peverell was raised by his mother’s brother after his parents were killed in a Death Eater attack shortly after the fall of You-Know-Who in November 1981. He has confirmed that he was homeschooled for a time but will be entering Hogwarts this year to complete his seventh year and take his NEWTs.

I’m sure we all look forward to seeing what this young Lord will achieve and I shall keep you all up to date as I can.

Amanda Floxley, Daily Prophet

Hadrian smirked as he passed the paper back to Neville. “Is it what you wanted, my Lord?” Neville asked as he passed the paper on to the twins.

“Oh, Nev,” Hadrian said with a chuckle and a far off look in his eyes, “It couldn’t have been better if I tried.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Monday 23rd June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Family Dining Room) 
Draco had been observing Harry Potter since he was eleven. Some might call it stalking, or obsessing, or, as Pansy so elegantly put it, lusting … but Draco called it observing. Albeit extensive and extremely thorough observing over a prolonged period of time. Basically, Draco could pick Harry Potter out of a room full of a hundred Harry Potter look a-likes in less than a minute. He always knew where the Boy-Who-Lived was, and thought he had known everything he could ever know about him. This was why he was so surprised when the young man himself showed up in the Dark Lord’s office, and that he’d seen the man twice before that day and not recognised him for who he was. His creature inheritance, or the slight shift in his now unmasked magic could have changed him enough for anyone else to be fooled, but Draco was sure he knew him better than that. A voice that sounded deceptively like Pansy assured Draco it was probably just because he was so completely enamoured by the young man’s looks that he was too much of a drooling mess to think properly. She may have been right. He guessed he would never know.Something Draco was completely sure of, however, was that, no matter how outrageously obsessive his own actions towards Harry Potter were, the green-eyed boy had been just as obsessed with Draco as Draco was with him. Though maybe not for the same reasons. Their eyes had been meeting across the length of the Great Hall for six years now and Harry had most definitely spent the better part of last year stalking Draco under his damn invisibility cloak. If Draco was a more secure seventeen year old, he could probably have determined that Harry Potter’s obsession with Draco Malfoy was not something that just went away with a trip to Gringotts. That the fact Harry had been so drawn to him even despite the hate potion keyed to the Malfoy heir in his system, told everyone who cared to listen that the young Lord would not stop whatever it was that kept him constantly seeking out the blonde. Draco had lived for six years, however, with the object of his desire displaying only aggression, hatred, or even more disheartening, indifference, when in his presence. Thus, he was surprised to feel those striking, emerald green eyes staring at him as he ate his breakfast in Peverell Manor. It was such a time honoured tradition, Draco didn’t even notice it at first, but once he did, he couldn’t help feeling a little smug. He could still hold the young man's attention, no matter how powerful he now was.Draco had decided to stay at Peverell Manor for the indefinite future in order to familiarise himself with the people he would no doubt be spending his seventh year at Hogwarts with. It was no question Hadrian Peverell would get sorted into Slytherin and therefore, Draco was sure to be demoted from his position of Slytherin’s King. He had made his way to the top of his House on a combination of his Father’s reputation with the Dark and his own ability to consistently be in the top three academically in his year. He was proud of his position and would give it up for no one. No one that is, except Hadrian Peverell. It was clear the man was a true Slytherin and, while his last name and numerous Lordships would help his reputation within the House of Snakes, his ability to lead and his obvious magical prowess would determine him as someone strong . Slytherins were good at looking out for themselves, so when someone came along that was stronger than they were, they didn’t hesitate to make sure they were in good favour.Draco locked eyes with the object of his thoughts as he took a sip of his perfectly brewed Earl Grey tea. The slight twitching of the vampire’s lips made Draco’s stomach do flips and he knew that his obsession with Harry Potter would undoubtedly follow onto Hadrian Peverell. It seemed, to everyone else in the room at least, that Hadrian Peverell’s obsession with Draco Malfoy would continue in full force, as emerald green eyes stayed locked on the blonde even after he dropped his focus back onto his breakfast.Draco watched as Hadrian Peverell’s followers, the Wolves apparently, ate breakfast around him in silent anticipation. Each member of what Draco was fondly calling the Pack, would switch between watching their Lord and the large open window behind him while they ate. The room was practically vibrating with excited magic and Draco could tell something big was about to happen. It was something to do with Hadrian’s plans but for the life of him Draco couldn’t think what it was. In all honesty, he hadn’t been paying too much attention when Hadrian and the Dark Lord were talking to the Skeeter woman. He was too busy reeling over the ease at which Hadrian Peverell took control of a room. His mere presence drew they eye and Draco was sure Skeeter had completely forgotten there were other people present as soon as the young Lord started speaking. Draco was out of the loop but, as a large, black Eagle Owl swooped through the open window and dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet onto Hadrian Peverell’s recently cleared breakfast plate, Draco knew things were about to change. Hadrian stroked the head of Tom’s Eagle Owl, Chronos, and smirked as he unfolded the latest edition of the Daily Prophet . He was about to see whether Rita Skeeter was all she talked herself up to be. His plans were in motion and Dumbledore would no doubt be sitting in his office, high up in the towers of Hogwarts, sweating in his outrageously coloured robes. Neville cleared his throat from his position at Hadrian’s right and he looked up to see the eyes of everyone present locked onto him. His wolves were tightly wound in anticipation, at his left Luna was practically bouncing in her seat with tense excitement, as they waited to see if Skeeter would pull through. Hadrian met the gaze of his beautiful mate as Chronos flew back out the window, no doubt in search of Hedwig, and smiled. It was all white teeth and crazed eyes and Hadrian saw Draco shiver with an emotion Hadrian dearly hoped was positive. “Let’s see what the Prophet has to say this fine morning,” he intoned cheerfully, picking up the paper and smoothing it out to see Skeeter’s article. He cleared his throat and read:

Intrigue with the Boy-Who-Lived

Mon 23rd June, 1997

My dear readers, I bring you some potentially disturbing news. Two days ago I received a package of information from none other than our beloved Chosen One, Harry Potter. As many of you may remember, my relationship with Mr. Potter has never been as fruitful as I would have hoped, therefore you can guess I was extremely surprised to find he had contacted me , Rita Skeeter, to pass on his allegations about frightful happenings in Wizarding Britain. 
The contents of Mr. Potter’s package alarmed and frankly astounded me as it included, among other documents, an account of the Boy-Who-Lived’s life since that fateful Halloween in Godric’s Hollow written by Mr. Potter himself. What I found in this account was cause for me to immediately contact the Auror department for confirmation on what I thought to be extremely dangerous information. Head Auror, Amelia Bones, after seeing the astonishing allegations has assured me the authenticity of the account by Harry Potter and, has put her best Aurors on the case to determine whether the Boy-Who-Lived is, in fact, as safe as we have been told. 
That is all I can tell you for the moment, dear readers but I assure you, I will be bringing you more on our Saviour as my findings are confirmed. If Harry Potter is reading this, however; take care, young saviour, we may need you yet. 
Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet  
“It is just vague enough to give nothing away, but specific enough to make the old man sweat,” Neville said with a wolfish grin. Fred and George chuckled from their places next to Luna and she clapped her hands in delight. Hadrian, though, only had eyes for Draco. The inquisitive look the young blonde directed at Hadrian set his vampire to preen. It loved the feeling of his little mate’s eyes attempting to figure him out, like a particularly difficult puzzle. “Something is going to happen tonight, isn’t it my Lord?” Hadrian couldn’t help the way his body reacted to the title on his mate’s lips, it was an acknowledgement of his power and Hadrian had to shift slightly in his seat. “There’s no need for formality, Draco,” he said, anyway. His mate need not bow to him the way his Wolves did. Draco was better than them, above them in every way, and would be for an eternity if Hadrian had his way. “You may call me Hadrian.” The light blush that coated his mate’s cheeks, was quite possibly the most endearing thing Hadrian had ever seen. As Draco practically whispered, “of course, Hadrian,” he reminded himself to get Draco alone as soon as possible. They needed to establish an equal footing relationship before Hadrian subjected him to the idea of decades together. He wouldn’t go rushing into this, no matter what Luna thought.“You are correct, however,” he continued when the Malfoy heir looked down at his plate. Those stunning silver eyes rose to once again fix wholly on him. He was being selfish, he knew, but Draco was the embodiment of perfect. He wanted nothing else to claim Draco’s attention. “Tom, Severus, your Father and I are taking a little trip this afternoon to a lovely disaster of a house in Surrey.” Hadrian paused once more for dramatic effect, damn Tom and his overzealous habits, scanning the room and seeing the fire burning in his inner circle’s eyes. “Tonight, Draco darling,” he said, locking emerald green with silver once more, “tonight, Harry Potter dies.” Smiles were wide all throughout the room. They had been waiting for this day for too long. He had been waiting for this day for too long. It was time to walk, fully, into the Dark.  
(Surrey, Number Four Privet Drive) 
Severus stalked into the house he had only seen in memories. It was painfully clean, reeking of chemicals and synthetic fabrics you would never find in the Wizarding World. That a young wizard as enamoured with magic as Hadrian Peverell had to grow up in such an oppressive muggle environment and managed to be even slightly sane, was a testament to Peverell’s strength of character. If he had lived here, Severus was sure he would have strung Petunia Dursley up by her painfully polyester floral patterned curtains within a week. There were no pictures of the boy, Severus found as he perused the living room. Only those of a whale-like child and his equally animal-like parents. No trace that a fourth person lived in the house at all. Considering this property was actually part of the Potter estate, Severus found that in extremely poor taste. He strolled down the hall towards Peverell and the Dark Lord, Lucius remaining by the front door to ‘guard’ the premises. Secretly, Severus mused Peverell only brought Lucius along to prove to the man who was in charge. It was amusing to think and Severus found himself glad this new Dark Lord was less inclined to torture people to prove his superiority, if only for the sanity of his friend.  He stopped short when he realised what the Dark Lord and Peverell were looking at.. The cupboard under the stairs. Severus didn’t know how Peverell could look at the prison of his youth with such detached emotion as he was. There was nothing on the young Lord’s face to hint at how he felt about the tiny space in which he had been locked away for eleven years. As Severus got closer he peered inside and was greeted by the small, angular lines of a Harry Potter shaped golem, crafted from Peverell’s own magic and riddled with the many ailments a sixteen year old Harry Potter would have received had he not been aided by both Severus and the Dark Lord in his recovery. “Is ... it dead?” Severus asked, not sure how to address the broken clone of the man standing in front of him. Peverell, however, had no such trouble. “Yes, poor Harry here left us two days ago. Punctured lung,” he said with alarming nonchalance. “Among other things.”  The Dark Lord chuckled at the appraising look Severus gave to the vampire. “Among other things?” Severus drawled. Trying not to be amused at the young man’s gallows humour. “Would you mind running a diagnostic test please, Severus?” Peverell asked turning wide green eyes down to the pitiful sight before him once more. “I’m afraid my medical spells aren’t quite at the professional grade.” Severus eyed the young vampire as he moved closer to the damned cupboard. That the brat was going to be in his House this school year was already giving him a headache. He was too powerful to comprehend, one forgot he wasn’t even seventeen yet. Severus cast the diagnostic charm and a list of golem-Harry’s injuries appeared in tight green script on a conjured bit of parchment. The list clearly stated a punctured right lung to be the cause of death and that the body had been dead for at least 48 hours. A quick identity charm confirmed the body to be Harry James Potter and Severus was happy to conclude the Aurors would successfully identify the body. He confirmed as such to his Lords and, with a nod of his head, went to wait with Lucius at the door. “Do you think we will survive those two?” Lucius asked as the delighted, slightly unhinged laughter of Lord Thanatos rang out through the house. The smell of burning polyester reached the two, who applied disillusionment charms in preparation for their departure. “If we stay on their side, my friend,” Severus replied, grabbing hold of the Malfoy Lord’s elbow so as not to lose each other in the commotion of a burning building, “we might just come out for the better.” 
(London, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place) 
Albus Dumbledore had called an emergency meeting of the Order of the Phoenix as soon as he read Rita Skeeter’s article in the Daily Prophet that morning, and it had taken the better part of the day to assemble the remaining members of the old organisation in Sirius Black’s ancestral kitchen. The Azkaban escapee looked over the assorted witches and wizards Dumbledore tasked with fighting on behalf of the Light and could barely contain his scoff. These sorry excuses for talented magic wielders could barely even manage to be in the same place at the same time, let alone fight together for the sake of the Wizarding World. A hoard of Weasleys and Order members inhabited the other end of the kitchen to Sirius Black and his best friend, Remus Lupin. The two remaining Marauders sat in comfortable silence as they observed the sea of red distributing food amongst the Order. All eight Weasleys (sans Percy) surrounded the Granger girl, Ted and Andromeda Tonks, Hestia Jones, Emmeline Vance, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge and Alastor Moody. Dropping platters of food onto the centuries old table engraved with the Black Family crest. If Sirius’ father could see this, he would have rather set the house on fire than eat at this table again. Sirius was very close to sharing that sentiment, though, probably, for rather a different reason. Minerva McGonagall sat primly to the left of Remus, looking very much like she would love to give the Weasley twins a detention. Sirius loved good old Minnie. She never changed. Mundungus Fletcher, the piece of human waste that he was, was already passed out in the corner by the fire. Kreature poked his prone, unresponsive form with a look of pure disgust on his face. Sirius realised he would have to give the Elf something nice after this if he was to remain on speaking terms with the crazy old thing. Sirius noted the absence of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks and wondered if they were part of the task force assembled to find out whatever it was going on with his son. He may not have been part of the initial creation of the wonder that is Harry Potter-Black, but Sirius’ blood runs through Harry’s veins and he would always be his son. He had received a note from Harry two days ago with the words ‘I am fine’ scrawled in his signature messy handwriting and he hoped Dumbledore hadn’t gone and done something stupid that endangered his pup. Again. Sirius’ patience for the old man and his manipulations regarding Harry was wearing very thin. If he didn’t have the whole, being-an-escaped-prisoner-with-a-rather-large-bounty-on-his-head thing going on, Sirius would have been making Dumbledore’s life a living hell in the political arena. He could no longer take up his Lordship, his time as a convict exceeded the respectable amount for even a Black to be able to inherit, but he still had power to his name and money in his vaults. And he would never have let the old man in his house. The door at the end of the kitchen opened and Sirius amused himself watching Severus Snape trying to decide whether he should stay closer to the door, and thus the exit, or move to Sirius, Remus and Minerva, further away from the ruckus of Weasleys and food. The dour Potions Master eventually decided on quiet over escape convenience and settled himself next to Minerva to await their illustrious leader. Albus Dumbledore was always the last person to arrive at Order meetings and Sirius was sure it was a ploy to make himself feel more important. A meeting of twenty two witches and wizards couldn’t start without the great Albus Dumbledore, therefore the whole world must bow at his feet. Really, Sirius imagined, Dumbledore was probably a worse master to serve than good ole Voldie. At least with a villainous Dark Lord you expected dramatics. The ‘good guys’ were just supposed to get shit done. After a good twenty minutes of the entire Order inhabiting the Black kitchen, Albus Dumbledore finally stepped through the floo. Lilac robes with yellow stars bombarded their way into the room and turned to stand at the head of the table opposite Sirius. Another power play by Albus Dumbledore, but one by Sirius too. By all polite societal rules, the two of them were on equal footing in this meeting and it was clear from the unimpressed look Dumbledore was sporting, that the old man didn’t like it. Sirius traded a look with Remus as Dumbledore cleared his throat, expecting the room to delve into silence at his simplest command. But this wasn’t Hogwarts. Dumbledore didn’t quite reign supreme outside the Castle’s hallowed halls. Especially as the man continued to sprout to anyone who would listen that Voldie was back, despite the old snake-face having yet given no sign of getting up to his old tricks. If it weren’t for Harry’s, sometimes cryptic, comments about said Dark Lord, Sirius would have been right along-side the masses in thinking Dumbledore had finally gone completely barmy. The room quieted, finally, and Dumbledore swept his twinkly-eyed gaze over the congregation before him. Sirius made sure to reinforce his Occlumency shields as he met the old man’s eyes and he was sure both Remus and Snape were doing something similar next to him. “You have all seen the Prophet this morning, I’m sure,” Dumbledore said. Sirius had spent a long time observing the man without the hero-worship fog obscuring him, and even he was hard pressed to notice the slight tension in Dumbledore’s jaw as he spoke. The old man was as good an actor as they come. Though Sirius was convinced his son was equally good, if not better, if even half the things he expected that boy got up to were true. “And it seems we have a problem on our hands,” the old man continued. “What’s wrong with Harry?” one of the Weasley twins spoke up and Sirius thanked Merlin that Harry had some real friends in the group of fake Gryffindor’s he was practically forced into hanging out with. “Is he in trouble?” the other twin asked and Sirius made a mental note to figure out how to tell the boys apart. They deserved that small amount of respect after sticking with his pup for so long. “Harry is perfectly fine,” Dumbledore said in an attempt to quickly placate the room full of concerned Saviour fans. How this room of overage and fairly competent wizards were okay with letting a nearly seventeen year old save the world on his own was astounding to Sirius. These people had all fought in the war before baby Harry had first defeated the Dark Lord and now they expected a child to fight their battles for them. For the whole world really. If he didn’t know Harry like he did, as a confident and extremely fucking brilliant wizard who could probably wipe the floor with anyone in this room (besides maybe Dumbledore and Snape), Sirius would have been concerned about the mental state of his son after having this much pressure heaped onto him. “We will be stationing a guard outside his relatives house again this summer,” Dumbledore continued, “as I believe this article will bring danger to dear Harry. The Death Eaters will no doubt be doubling their efforts to find him and this so called ‘dangerous information.’” “What kind of information would Harry even have?” Molly Weasley spoke up and Sirius had to agree. He knew Harry knew a lot of things he shouldn’t, but no one else knew that. Had Harry been content to know only what the Order and his friends told him, he would have no knowledge worth Death Eaters torturing him for. Not that Sirius was completely convinced the Death Eaters weren’t on Harry’s side anyway. He knew Harry had no love for Dumbledore or the Light side, the mark on his left shoulder proved that much, but he wasn’t sure how Dark Harry was willing to go. Not that it mattered too much. He would follow his son wherever he went. “I am certain the Prophet is merely up to its old tricks again and, in an attempt to further besmirch both my and young Harry’s name, has merely conjured up something to get the public going.” Dumbledore stood over them with kind, genial eyes while he spoke and Sirius had to suppress a snort. The old fool really needed to work on his excuses. “I am sure there is no information that Mr Potter will be able to pass over, should he be captured, but the boy must stay firmly within the hands of the Light. He is our hope for the end of this war after all.” Just at that moment, a large barn owl swooped in through the recently cleaned kitchen window, high up on the wall behind Sirius’ seat. It screeched softly at the large group of people it saw before dropping what looked like the evening edition of the Daily Prophet . Sirius’ heart sank. There was only one reason the Evening Prophet would not have just been left on Dumbledore’s desk for him to return to. It was a special edition and Sirius could only imagine what the headline would be. Something had happened to Harry. He grabbed Remus’ hand under the table, needing the strength of his best friend to keep himself upright. Remind himself that he didn’t know what had happened yet. His son could be fine. Dumbledore paid the owl, opened up the paper and Sirius’ dread increased as he watched the Headmaster’s face pale. The paper dropped with a soft thunk onto the table and Sirius realised the room had gone completely silent. No one dared to speak and find out what had affected the Headmaster so until Bill Weasley, Sirius blessed his soul, picked up the paper and cleared his throat. His voice tight, face pale and hands shaking as he read the article emblazoned on the front page.

Death of the Boy-Who-Lived

Mon 23rd June, 1997

I bring you grave news tonight, my dear readers. At approximately four o’clock this afternoon, Aurors were called to the scene of a magical house fire in the Muggle area of Little Whinging, Surrey. The house, now identified as the summer residence of one Harry Potter, took a team of six Aurors an hour to contain and put out, before an investigative team was dispatched to find the cause of the blaze and identify any casualties. The Auror response time was swift enough that the house retained its base structure and the one body left in well enough condition to be correctly identified. 
My dear readers, this is where I bring you news almost too painful to share. At 5:15pm Harry James Potter’s body was found locked in what appeared to be a supply closet under the main staircase of the house. After a careful examination from St. Mungo’s best emergency healers, it was determined that Harry Potter’s death was not caused by the fire. Instead, he departed this world more than 48 hours before the blaze was set. 
‘His body was in the worst condition I have seen outside a torture victim,’ one healer said after examining Mr Potter. ‘It is likely the young Mr Potter was, in fact, a victim of long-term abuse.’ I was shocked at this assertion as you can well imagine and vowed to find out more. Hasn’t Albus Dumbledore consistently told us our Saviour has been treated like a prince for all that he has done for this world? Did Albus Dumbledore know about the treatment Harry Potter was facing every summer he returned from Hogwarts? I don’t know my dear readers, but I endeavour to find out. 
I know now this all looks extremely suspicious and I can’t help wonder whether tonight’s fire had something to do with my article this morning. Someone out there didn’t want Harry Potter spilling his secrets and took matters into their own hands. Trust me when I say this dear readers, Mr Potter’s life was being controlled by someone and I won’t stop until I can give you the truth. Until then, join me in taking a moment to remember all that Harry James Potter has done for Wizarding Britain and praying that justice will come for this boy who was taken from us too young. 
Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet

For more about the Fire … page 3

For more about Harry Potter’s life … page 6

For more about abuse and its effects … page 12

Sirius couldn’t breathe.His son. His only son. His amazing, brilliant, completely and beautifully selfless and kind son. He couldn’t be dead. There was no way. It was just not possible in any way, shape or form. He stood abruptly, his chair clattering to the ground behind him, and strode determinedly to the front door. Ignoring the pale faces of the Order and the chocked calling of his name from Remus. He had to see it for himself. Sirius threw open the front door, hardly caring that he set off the ghastly portrait of his mother, and moved forward onto the top step. With a turn of his heel, he disapparated with crack . 
(Surrey, Number Four Privet Drive)
Sirius transformed into Padfoot the moment his feet touched the ground. He looked around at the chaos that stood before him. Aurors and Obliviators were herding the Muggles back into their houses, away from the smouldering remains of Number 4 Privet Drive. Padfoot stood watching as the team of healers levitated a small body out from the charred house on a stretcher and had to close his eyes. He couldn’t believe it. There was no way he could believe that Harry was dead. Taken from him before they even had the chance to be a proper family. A crack sounded next to him and Padfoot looked up to see Remus had followed. He let out a pained whine at the thought of what he’d lost and turned pleading grey eyes to the werewolf at his side. Years of silent communication came through as Remus erected a small privacy ward around the two of them and Sirius transformed once again. Throwing his arms around Remus at the first chance he had and sobbing into the fabric of his tattered robes. They stood together for what felt like hours, while the Ministry workers cleared the area. Both distraught at the thought that their little pack was another member down. Sirius stiffened as Remus’ hand brushed over the mark on his left shoulder. His eyes flew open, hand immediately grasping for the little slip of parchment in his pocket. 
I am fine
Harry’s words scrawled messily before him and Sirius could do nothing but stare. His son was fine, had said so himself. Whatever Harry’s plans were required him to be dead. But he was fine. He had to be. Sirius couldn’t cope if he wasn’t.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Tuesday 24th June, 1997 : Hogwarts, Headmaster’s Office)
Albus Dumbledore was panicked. Harry Potter was dead and this was not at all what he had planned. Damn that imbecile Dursley and his undoubtedly heavy hand. He had warned the walrus of a muggle what would happen should he go too far with the boy and now here Albus was, sitting in his office trying to contain what would probably be a national crisis, all because the useless oaf couldn’t keep his fists to himself. The Dursley’s should be glad they’d gone on a holiday to Greece, if they ever came back to England they’d face the full wrath of Albus Dumbledore. Damn Rita Skeeter too. Albus had no idea how she had managed to get the information out so fast. He had his contacts out looking for her location, but it seemed she’d had the foresight to protect herself before releasing her first article about Harry Potter and his package of ‘dangerous information’. Albus had to find out what she knew and deal with her accordingly. Had to see how much the boy had known and had been willing to pass on in the event of his untimely death. Had to stop anything else from being released before all his long term plans came crashing down around him. He had to contain this. There were many things the boy could know that would make Albus seem like a truly despicable person out of context. He doubted the Prophet would care that Harry had to have a hard life if he was ever going to save the Wizarding World. Harry needed to think he was worthless in order for him to sacrifice himself for the Greater Good, but Albus knew the public wouldn’t understand. Especially as Tom was continuing to play in the shadows and Albus was already being scorned for attempting to keep the Wizarding World safe from the Dark Arts. He knew he had done some questionable things to young Harry Potter, but it was for the Greater Good! Wizarding Britain needed their Saviour and Albus had to make sure the boy would sacrifice his life for them all. An owl entered through a high open window and dropped a letter on Albus’ desk. Curiosity brewed as the Headmaster noted the Gringotts seal on the back. He opened the letter hastily and sighed with relief: He was invited to attend Harry Potter’s will reading. Albus’ plans were safe. He had written and recorded a will for the boy when Harry had first started at Hogwarts in the event of a horrible accident within the walls of the Castle. There was always the possibility the boy wouldn’t make it through Albus’ end of year challenges and he needed to have all his bases covered. The will reading was good for Albus’ plans. Albus would officially become Lord Potter and gain complete control over all of Harry’s estates. He knew the Potters had a majority holding on the Daily Prophet so he could shut down Skeeter easily. He could fight this war in the name of Harry Potter and gain all the recognition in the process. Albus sat back in his chair and popped a lemon drop into his mouth. Everything was going to work out fine. (Wednesday 25th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Hadrian’s Office)Severus knelt before Lord Thanatos basking in the feel of his unmasked magic. He used to think there couldn’t be a single person whose magic was more intoxicating than the Dark Lord’s. How very wrong he was. Lord Thanatos’ magic was magnificent. Stroking up against Severus’ own in an almost loving way. Letting him know that he was safe with this Lord and the wonderful magic surrounding him. He knew logically, of course, that Lord Thanatos could probably strike him dead in half a second but with his magic feeling like it did right now, Severus could not even begin to be afraid. He had just received his first mission from Lord Thanatos, who held his loyalty equally with Lord Voldemort, and he was confused. Severus hated being confused, so the whole ordeal was already affecting him, but these orders were the strangest he’d ever received. And he’d been working for Albus Dumbledore for sixteen years. They were going to Harry Potter’s will reading and Severus was to look after Draco. That was it. No keeping tabs on certain members of the Order. No distracting Dumbledore while the wolves completed some covert mission. No slipping a poison into Molly Weasley’s tea. Nothing of the sort. Just to make sure Draco sat between Severus and Hadrian Peverell and to look after the boy. As if Severus wasn’t going to be looking out for his godson anyway? “We will be surrounded by enemies, Severus,” Lord Thanatos said. “You are the only one I currently trust to keep Draco safe at all costs. If things go south today you take him and you get out of there immediately . Am I clear?” Severus bowed his head in subservience as Lord Thanatos’ magic gained a harsh edge. These may have been the strangest orders ever, and Severus could only guess at the reason for them when he knew the Vampire’s claimed donor would be present also, but Severus knew he would be dead if he failed. “Of course, my Lord,” he said, “I will not fail you.” “No, Severus,” Lord Thanatos said walking around his desk to stand directly in front of Severus’ bowed form, “I don’t think you will.” 
(Gringotts, Will Reading Chamber One)
Sirius walked into the large, stone room deep within Gringotts for Harry Potter-Black’s will reading. It had been two days since he’d stood, his soul aching, outside the smouldering remains of Number 4 Privet Drive watching his son’s body being taken away by the Aurors. It had also been two days since he realised he still had hope.  I am fine .Harry was smart. Scarily so. So Sirius knew there was a reason Harry had sent him that note and he didn’t think it was just to comfort him. At least he really hoped it wasn’t just for that. As he made his way to the left of the large table set up for the benefactors of his son’s will, Sirius clutched Harry’s note tight within his trembling hands. He and Remus were the second to arrive. The only other person, sitting to the right of Director Ragnok (and how incredibly awesome was it that his son was on such good terms with the Goblins so to have the Director of London Gringotts as the executor of his will) was a tall, strongly built young man Sirius had never seen before. He was naturally tanned, had dark raven black hair down to his shoulders in a style fairly reminiscent of the Black Family, pulled back at the base of his neck in the traditional pureblood fashion. There was something strikingly familiar about the man but Sirius couldn’t quite put his finger on it. As they made their way to their seats at the left of the table, Remus stiffened beside him. Sirius jumped slightly when the werewolf grabbed his elbow and hissed his name. He turned to Remus with a questioning gaze and the man inclined his head in the direction of the stranger. “That man smells -,” he hesitated and Sirius saw something akin to hope shining in his best friends eyes, “Sirius, he smells like Harry !”Sirius’ eyes snapped back to the stranger in the room, studying his features, as he quickly pulled Remus to the seats directly opposite the man who could be his son. There were definitely similarities. The same high cheekbones he inherited from Sirius’ father, the same straight nose as James and those eyes... there was no denying that this was Harry Potter. No one had eyes that green but his son. Harry rose, offering his hand before the two Marauders could be fully seated. “Hadrian Peverell, it’s a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances of course,” he said with a wink in Remus’ direction. Sirius shook the offered hand, relishing in the flare of warmth from the mark on his left shoulder and seated himself at the table. His son was alive.A minuscule smile crawled its way onto Sirius’ face. He had hoped but now he had confirmation; his son really was fine and oh Merlin was he going to get an ass kicking for making Sirius worry so much. He understood of course, Sirius’ reaction had to be genuine or the Order and old Dumbles would have been suspicious but a little more warning would have been nice. Stupid kid with his insanely smart but incredibly reckless plans. Sirius didn’t know where he got it from.  A few more people entered the room and Sirius watched with amusement as Harry - no, Hadrian now, - ignored the presence of the Weasleys and Granger but stood to greet Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy. He guided them to the seats next to him and it didn’t go past Sirius that Hadrian placed the Malfoy kid in the most protected place in the room: Right between Snape and Hadrian himself and across from Sirius, Remus and Bill Weasley. Hadrian obviously wasn’t comfortable with the blonde being here and Sirius had to wonder whether his son had picked up a creature inheritance since he last saw him. Hadrian was certainly acting in the subtle way Moony sometimes would with him in a room full of potential threats. Sirius bit back a snarl as Dumbledore walked into the room, not even bothering to hide his smug look. He obviously had something planned. He looked back at Hadrian to gauge his reaction to the old coot and his eyes widened. Hadrian eyes changed subtly as Sirius watched on, becoming an enticing blue-green that shifted in the light. Close enough to his real colour to be related but not Harry Potter’s iconic green eyes. Clever boy. Sirius shook his head slightly at the insanity of this situation. His son was a metamorphmagus, possibly a creature of some kind, not dead as the world currently believed and somehow on close terms with the youngest Malfoy. As soon as this meeting was over Sirius was dragging his son somewhere safe and getting answers out of the little shit. There was too much he didn’t know. Everyone was present finally and settling down around the table. On the right of Ragnok sat Hadrian, then Draco and Severus, followed by Luna, Neville, Tonks and Andromeda, then finally Percy Weasley. The last two looked thoroughly confused as to why they had been mentioned in Harry Potter’s will and Sirius had to bite back a chuckle. He imagined this was going to be a very enlightening morning. The whole Weasley family was present (though Percy sat as far away from his family as he possibly could) and they, as well as Dumbledore, Hermione, Sirius and Remus were sat on the left of the table looking intently at Director Ragnok. That was until Ronald Weasley, ever the hot-headed fool, noticed the two Slytherins sat next to Hadrian. “What the hell are those slimy gits doing here?” he shouted, pointing an accusing finger across the table. Sirius sighed internally. Gryffindors these days just didn’t have the same finesse they used to. At least when the Marauders were tormenting Snape (something Sirius regretted immensely and intended to apologise for as soon as possible) they were inventive about it. Ronald Weasley was just not that smart. “They’re here,” Hadrian said sharply, giving Ronald a look that told everyone how unimpressed he was with the red-head, “because Harry Potter asked them to be here.” Sirius stifled another chuckle at the pureblood attitude Hadrian had shown. There were some things that just couldn’t be taught and the ability to look down on someone without being physically taller than them was one. “Oh yeah?” Ronald said, turning his distaste onto Hadrian. “How do you know? You think you know my best mate better than me, do you? He hated these bastards!” He stopped short, “Who are you anyway?” Ronald’s face was redder than his hair, and Sirius was beginning to think this alone would make up for the two days of intense worry his son had put him through. If this reading went the way he thought it was going to, Hadrian was well on his way to being forgiven. “I’m Hadrian Peverell,” he said, and Dumbledore leaned forward slightly at the mention of his last name. Hadrian had had enough last names to choose from, Sirius wondered why he had chosen one that interested Dumbledore so much. “I’m here for the same reason everyone else is, because I got a letter stating I was mentioned in Harry Potter’s will. The Goblins would not have allowed me in this room if I were not invited.” “But - ” Ron started, but cut off when Sirius stood, turning to face the youngest Weasley son, anger and devastation written across his features. It was his turn to act.“If Harry wanted them here he must have had a reason Ron,” he said, hoping the anger washing through him would be mistaken for grief. Sirius knew how little love Harry had for the youngest Weasleys and was waiting in anticipation for the incoming reveal. “Today’s about Harry, nothing else! Now shut up so I can hear my godson’s last words to me.”Remus put a hand on his arm as Sirius sat back down, staring intently at the table in front of him. Not many people knew the extent of his relationship with Harry, that of father and son, and too many people would be willing to take advantage of it if they did. He had to play the devastated godfather for a little while longer and besides, he wanted to know what Harry had left him. It must be important if he didn’t just give it to him in person. “Now that we’ve all settled down,” Director Ragnok started from the head of the table, his eyes roving around the odd assembly of people before him. “We shall proceed with the reading of the Will of one Harry James Potter-Black.” There were a few gasps at the revelation of Harry’s hyphenated last name that had Sirius smug. His son really had fooled them all. Ragnok pulled out a large, glowing orb and placed it on the table in front of him. He tapped it with his finger and the image of a scrawny, messy haired fifteen year old Harry Potter appeared above it. A pained whine escaped Sirius as the man clutched onto the arm of the werewolf next to him. He had forgotten how small Harry was. Looking at Hadrian across the table he hoped his current strength wasn’t just a glamour. If Hadrian didn’t have them already, Sirius was making a trip to Harry’s relatives in the near future.“I, Harry James Potter-Black, of sound mind, magic and body do hereby declare this as my last will and testament. All previous wills should be overridden and this will sealed only by the word of the new Lord Potter-Black.” Harry’s voice rang out through the room as everyone listened intently to the young man. “Why wasn’t the new Lord Potter informed of this before the reading?” Dumbledore spoke up from his seat in the centre of the table. He was still clearly of the belief that Harry was so fooled by him as to make him (or one of his pawns) the new Lord Potter. Sirius had to muffle a snort as Director Ragnok gave the old Headmaster a withering glare at the interruption. He could see Hadrian’s shoulders moving with barely disguised amusement as the old Goblin curtly replied, “he was.” The clear dismissal from a creature Dumbledore deemed below him made the man bristle and Sirius was pleased to note Dumbledore’s plan had obviously revolved around a different will. He watched as the Headmaster eyed off the youngest Malfoy and realised he was worried the title would go to him. It would make Lucius Malfoy a very powerful man and Dumbledore’s life just that little bit harder. Too bad the man didn’t know just how far Hadrian was willing to go to make Dumbledore’s life harder.  “I’ve thought a lot about what to say in this,” will-Harry continued, all eyes snapping back to the projection, “and I think it’s time I told you all something. I know you’re all thinking that I was probably killed by Voldemort, he has been trying to kill me since I was one so that would make sense, yeah? But in all honesty, I think it’s more likely these days that I’ll be killed by my Uncle.” Sirius gasped and had to force himself not to look in Hadrian’s direction. Was his son saying what he thought he was saying? If those filthy muggles did more than just withhold food, Sirius was going to be greatly at risk of having a real reason to go to Azkaban.  “He’s getting more and more violent with me each summer I come back from Hogwarts and I keep asking Dumbledore to be moved somewhere else, but the blood wards are too damn important aren’t they Headmaster? It doesn’t matter that the most danger I have ever been in while living with the muggles has been from bleeding out in the cupboard under the stairs. I’ve had more broken bones than I have bones in my body, more scars than skin on my back and still no one seemed to notice that they didn’t just ‘hate me’ as I told anyone who asked. They despised me, and magic, and made it their life’s mission to beat and bleed the magic out of me.” The room was silent as everyone looked at the Headmaster in shock. Was this real? Was Harry Potter really abused by his relatives? The Headmaster himself looked furious at the accusation that he refused to save Harry Potter and Sirius was suddenly very certain that it was all Albus fucking Dumbledore’s idea. He wondered if Hadrian had proof and just how vindictive his revenge would be. Personally, Sirius couldn’t wait. Dumbledore opened his mouth to soothe the tension in the room, probably with some meaningless words about love and forgiveness, when a scathing look from Director Ragnok stopped him and he let the will continue. Sirius thought Dumbledore should be glad of the silence. Anything he said would no doubt condemn him further.“Now, I don’t blame you for not noticing, I’ll admit, I’m a damn good actor. But just one of you to believe me when I told you some of what was going on would have been nice. Just know that, if one of you had paid a little more attention, I might not be dead right now.” “Unless, of course it was Voldemort who killed me,” Harry added, seemingly as an afterthought. “Then I just hope I took the old snake-faced bastard down with me.” Sirius had to muffle a snort at that. Knowing the tentative relationship between Harry Potter and the Dark Lord, it was amusing to no end to see Harry declare hope for their mutual death. Sirius wondered back for a moment on the exact relationship between Hadrian and the Dark Sect. He knew Hadrian had plans, but had been unable to explain them via letter, he and his son’s usual method of communication. He hoped he would be able to be more involved now Harry Potter was seemingly out of the picture. “Now that’s done, lets get on to what you’re all really here for. The stuff you all assume I’m going to give you. Now, there is a little something for each of you and I trust that Ragnok and Griphook will be able to help you retrieve it all from my Vaults.” Greedy looks were now appearing over the two youngest Weasleys and Granger as Sirius observed with disgust. He truly commended Hadrian’s ability to be in the same room as them, knowing what they’d done to him. Anticipation rose within him as he wondered just how many secrets Harry was going to reveal this morning.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Wednesday 25th June, 1997 : Gringotts, Will Reading Chamber One)
“Sirius Orion Black:,” Harry began, “you’re a seriously good father and I hope you know that.” Draco startled at the barked, pained laugh from Sirius Black as he stared reverently up at his son’s image. He had to wonder how much Hadrian had told Black before Harry Potter died. His emotion sounded real to Draco. “Thanks so much for everything you’ve done for me Sirius, and I know I’ll see you again sometime. Don’t blame yourself, please and make sure you take care of Remus for me. He’ll need you now more than ever.” “I leave to you a trunk full of your old stuff I found and there’s also a trunk of stuff that was Mum and Dad’s. There was a letter left to you in their Wills, which I finally had read, which I am now passing it onto you. You have my permission, as Lord Black, to browse all the Black Vaults and take whatever it is you want. I wasn’t sure how much, if any, of your family’s stuff you would appreciate.” The nervous look on Harry’s face made Draco’s heart break. Surely Hadrian had to know they would all love anything he could give them.  “You have your pick of an estate from either the Potters or the Blacks, though I recommend the Black Cottage in Italy, it’s sunny there with lots of open space, you would like it. As Lord Black I officially welcome you back into the Black family and therefore reinstate your Allowance Vault. If I could, I would have named you my heir but you know that’s not possible. You also might find that Amelia Bones comes into contact with you shortly, I’ve given her a rat to think about.” Sirius was crying by the time Harry finished and Draco’s heart reached out to him. He was pretty sure Hadrian had just organised for Sirius Black’s innocence to be revealed. “Remus John Lupin: you’re the kindest man I have ever known and there is nothing that will convince me that you don’t deserve the world. My advice to you; tell him how you feel. I have it on good authority that he feels it too.” Harry winked from the glowing orb and a blush as red as the Weasel’s hair ran up Lupins face so quickly Draco had to resist the temptation to smirk. Black gave Hadrian a questioning look and the slight nod Draco witnessed caused the man’s face to split into a grin so wide there was no mistaking its genuinity. “There’s a letter here from Mum and Dad for you as well. You have my permission to take whatever you want from the Potter or Black Libraries, and Potter Cottage, just outside Hogsmeade, is yours. I hope that you,” Harry paused with a teasing smirk, “ and Sirius, will use the shop in Hogsmeade I also got for you to open that Cafe you guys always talked about when you were younger.” Draco saw the love reflected in Lupin’s eyes as he looked up at the image of Harry. He knew Hadrian hadn’t marked the werewolf yet and wondered whether he was waiting for his true loyalty to be revealed with this meeting.  “Draco Lucius Malfoy,” Harry’s voice spoke next and the Weasel, Weaselette and Granger gasped.“What’s he getting before me?” Ron cried, sneering at Draco from across the table. “This is the order Lord Potter-Black wrote his will in, Mr Weasley. You will cease these interruptions before I have to silence you.” Ragnok said with a Goblin grin that Ron instinctively flinched away from. Draco hid his smirk, this was all too amusing for him.“I know you think I hate you,” Harry’s voice said. “But, in fact, the opposite is true.” Gasps came from all directions at Harry’s confession. The Weasel looked like he was about to explode and Dumbledore’s expression was stormier than Draco had ever seen it. Draco was shocked. Harry Potter had publicly confessed he held no hatred for Draco Malfoy. Warmth blossomed through Draco’s chest. “I know it’s a little hard to believe, but after I got over myself a little, by about halfway through second year I guess, I realised that you and I aren’t all that different. We both had to wear masks the moment we set foot outside our homes and we never got the chance to show anyone who we really were. I would have liked to get that chance with you, Draco.” Draco didn’t know why but there was a prickling behind his eyes as Harry spoke, understanding him on a level he didn’t think anyone ever would. He startled slightly when a hand gripped his knee underneath the table, giving it a quick, comforting squeeze before moving away again. His blood was rushing through his ears as he fought to keep the blush away from his cheeks. Curse his pale skin. He risked a glance at Hadrian, realising the Vampire Lord’s eyes were glued to the Weasel as the red-head worked himself into another rage.“I always knew he was a filthy Slytherin whore,” Weasley spat out and Hadrian stiffened almost imperceptibly beside Draco. “He never could act completely Gryffindor, the stupid hat should have just put him where he belonged, with the other wannabe Death Eaters.” Draco succumbed to a sudden need to comfort the vampire beside him and grabbed Hadrian’s hand under the table. Interlocking their fingers and giving the man something to ground himself with. Even though he doubted he was Hadrian’s mate, he hoped he could give the Vampire even the smallest amount of comfort. Draco had no idea he was making Hadrian’s heart sing. “You’re a Black, Draco,” Harry continued after Ragnok cast a silencing spell on the fuming form of Ronald Weasley. “So I grant you access to your Allowance Vault. You have my permission to browse the Black Vaults for anything you want and an estate of your choosing, though I recommend the French Townhouse. It’s beautiful and maybe you can go to the Louvre for me, I’ve always wanted to go. Also, provided that the new Lord Black has no eligible heirs of his own, I hereby grant you the title of heir Black.” Draco squeezed Hadrian’s hand even tighter, hoping now to display his infinite gratitude to the man. He had never been able to have access to his Black heritage as the previous Lord Black died before acknowledging Draco as an official member of the Black family. He couldn’t help wondering why Hadrian was being so nice to him. He had no reason to publicly display the end of their rivalry. Especially now that Harry Potter was dead. “Severus Tobias Snape,” Harry said, “I just want to say thank you, for all that you have done for me over the years.” Severus’ stiffened beside Draco and he turned to see the potion Master’s eyes were glued to the image before him. “There’s a letter here from Mum and Dad for you and Mum’s will stated you were to have all her potions journals and notes, so they’re yours as well. I’ve left you the lease to a shop in Hogsmeade so when you finally escape the dunderheads at Hogwarts, you can set up your own business.” Draco was shocked. He knew a little about the history between Lily Potter and his godfather, enough to know their relationship before Lady Potter died was strained at best. Draco could only imagine what Severus was feeling right now and Draco’s gratitude for Hadrian increased. Anyone who could give his godfather something to lighten up his dark, dreary life was owed a great deal in Draco’s eyes.“There’s something else I wanted to give you,” Harry said, startling Draco out of his thoughts. “I, Lord Potter, do hereby recognise all life-debts to the Potter family owed by Severus Snape fulfilled,” a golden light flashed through Severus and Draco watched as his godfather’s shoulders relaxed. Releasing a tension he had obviously been holding for sixteen years. Draco was really going to have to do something to thank Hadrian. He was releasing Severus from a great deal of his oaths. A look over at Albus Dumbledore and Draco could tell this reading was not going as the old man planned. That Hadrian was so capable of making the Headmaster wrongfooted was immensely attractive to Draco. A thumb stroking against the back of his hand alerted Draco to the fact he was still holding the Vampire’s hand. He couldn’t help thinking their hands fit together perfectly. “Neville Frank Longbottom,” Harry began again, “there’s not a lot I can give you but thanks for being the best friend I could ask for. I have named you, heir Longbottom, a Friend of the House Potter so if you ever need assistance, refuge or help of any kind, the House of Potter will always be there for you. I have also asked the new Lord Potter to grant you access to Euphema Potter’s greenhouses at Potter Manor. She has some seriously interesting things in there that I think you would love. Thanks again Nev, you really are the best Gryffindor there could ever be.” Draco, not for the first time, wondered at what Hadrian saw in the Longbottom heir. He understood that he had probably never seen the real Longbottom, but there had never been anything to indicate that he could be capable of being Lord Thanatos’ right hand. Draco vowed to talk with the boy sometime this summer, he must have some redeemable attributes if someone as powerful as Hadrian held him in such high regard.“Luna Pandora Lovegood,” Harry said and the whole room recognised the extremely fond look in Harry’s eyes. From the shocked looks on the opposite side of the table, Draco concluded very few people realised how close Harry was to the Lovegood girl. “I really do love you Luna, you wonderful human, and I have also established you as a Friend of the House Potter. There is something immensely important that I need you to do for me and I know you are the only person who ever could. I need you to look after Hedwig for me, she loves you almost as much as I do so you should get along fine.” Gasps came from the Weasleys and Granger and Draco had to wonder whether they paid the slightest bit of attention to Harry Potter while he was alive. Everyone knew how much the Hedwig meant to Harry. She was his familiar and Harry would have done anything to make sure she was safe. Draco had seen how reluctant the snowy owl was to interact with Harry’s supposed best friends and even he could have guessed Lovegood would make the best choice. As if planned, Hedwig chose that moment to swoop down from somewhere in the rafters and land on Luna’s shoulder, nipping her ear affectionately and settling in for the time being. A small smile was on Hadrian’s face, unnoticed by the other occupants of the room, and Draco’s heart stuttered. It was such an uncomposed expression on the young Lord’s face, something he hadn’t seen since the summer began, and Draco swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  “William Arthur Weasley,” Harry’s voice pulled the attention in the room to the gaggle of redheads on the left of the table, “and Charles Septimus Weasley, you will both be established as Friends of House Potter if you meet a few conditions that the new Lord Potter will talk to you about later, should you need any help you will always be welcome with Potters. Bill, I’ve left a few fascinating books on warding for you. I hope you find them as interesting as I did. Charlie, I’ve left you something extremely valuable and Griphook will take you down to the Black vaults to see it at your convenience. You’ll love it, trust me.” Both Weasleys had almost identical looks of awe on their faces and Draco had to wonder how many Weasleys were actually on Hadrian’s side. He had always thought the whole family was close to him, but recent revelations about the two youngest and the mother had Draco readjusting his world view. Perhaps Hadrian was using this opportunity to figure out more than just Lupin’s loyalties. “Percy Ignatius Weasley,” Harry continued. “You will be established as a Friend of House Potter, with the same conditions as Bill and Charlie, and I have left you with a letter. I hope you know that I’ve always thought of you as another big brother and you should be proud of your achievements over the years.” Percy had more awe on his face than Draco had thought possible. He remembered the academic Weasley from his first years at Hogwarts and hadn’t thought the Prefect knew how to look up to another person. Percy always seemed more pompous and arrogant than Draco himself, and Draco had to admit that was an impressive feat.“Frederick Gideon Weasley and George Fabian Weasley, Gred and Forge, my partners in all things prank,” Harry smiled, and Draco watched the twins as they stared at Harry’s image with reverence written all over their faces. It was commonly known throughout Hogwarts that Harry and the twins had grown exponentially closer since Harry’s fourth year. The twin terrors and the Chosen One had made a formidable team going up against the likes of Umbridge and Filch. Draco was reminded once again how much respect and love these two seemed to have for their Lord, “You both will be established as Friend of House Potter in the same way as your brothers. I give you a thousand Galleons towards WWW and the lease to a shop in Hogsmeade so you can expand your business closer to Hogwarts.” Fred and George looked truly gobsmacked. Draco had to appreciate the gift that Harry was clearly giving the two. They had never been from a well-off family and didn’t seem like the sort to accept charity or favours. Harry had essentially set Fred and George up for life. “And,” Harry continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “you guys are really going to love this. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you and now seems perfect because you will be in charge of making sure everyone still laughs, despite the hard times coming to the wizarding world. I give you a trunk of plans written by the Marauder’s themselves, and I’ve enclosed a letter with the names of all four Marauders so you can look them up yourselves. You’ll be surprised, I think, at what you find out.” Fred and George’s jaws were almost on the table as their eyes darted between Harry reading the will, and their Lord seated across from them.. Draco didn’t know who the Marauder’s were but the slight stiffening of his godfather’s body didn’t go unnoticed beside him. Draco would bet anything that Severus was currently thanking all the gods available that the Weasley twins had already graduated. “Arthur Weasley,” Harry said with a sad smile and the Weasley patriarch looked up at the image before him. Draco once again wondered whether the grief displayed on his face was genuine. He hadn’t noticed before, too distracted by the myriad of more interesting people filling the room, but Arthur Weasley looked significantly more distraught than his wife. As Hadrian once again squeezed his hand, a rush of warmth flowing through the young Malfoy, Draco thought there might genuinely be a strong relationship between Harry and the eldest Weasley.  “I have a few things I’ve collected from the muggle world that I had put aside for you. Each comes with its name, instructions on its use and what it’s made of. I hope you enjoy them. I’ve also left you a letter and I want to thank you for all that you have done for me over the years. For someone who never knew his parents, I sure felt like I had a lot of fathers and you were one of them.” Arthur smiled slightly at that and, despite himself, Draco’s heart warmed. It was nice to know Harry had had some people that genuinely cared about him. “Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks, as Lord Black I formally invite you back into the House of Black and grant you both your Allowance Vaults. The new Lord Black has been asked to remove you again the moment you disrespect your family in any way.” The two Black women looked contented as they felt the Family magic return to them. Draco could relate and absently wondered whether Hadrian could get Andromeda to talk to his Mother. He knew she missed her eldest sister greatly, especially since Aunt Bella was still halled up in Azkaban. Perhaps the traditional meeting of the Black Family when the new Lord was officially appointed would serve as an opportunity to reacquaint the estranged sisters.  “Now, I’ve saved the best for last.” Harry said dryly, and the greedy glint returned to the eyes of the remaining members of the room. “Molly Weasley, I leave to you thanks in abundance for the food. You unwittingly saved my life that summer after first year, so cheers.” Harry ended it there and Draco could feel Hadrian’s shoulders shaking with mirth. The affronted look on Molly Weasley’s face was something Draco would savour for years to come. His Mother would undoubtedly love to see the memory. She loathed the Weasley matriarch. “Ronald Bilius Weasley,” Harry smirked, and his voice turned sickly sweet, “I give you this advice: stop being such a jealous prat and maybe you won’t have to compel people into being your friend.” Ronald was screaming himself hoarse but no one paid him any attention as Ragnok’s silencing charm still rendered him mute. Hadrian’s shoulder brushed against Draco’s as they both tried desperately to conceal their thoughts on the hilarity of the situation. It didn’t escape Draco’s notice that he seemed to have drifted closer to the vampire as the reading continued. Their hands were still clasped, their knees frequently pressed together and their shoulders brushed with the movement of their barely concealed laughter. Draco was once again fighting down a blush. He desperately hoped Hadrian wasn’t taking this the wrong way. “Hermione Jean Granger, I give you this advice: you are not the smartest person in every room, and no one wants to hear that you think you are.” Harry’s smirk was positively deadly now and Draco was reminded of Lord Thanatos’ first meeting with the Death Eaters. Hermione’s face was red with embarrassment or anger, Draco couldn’t tell, but he was loving every minute of this. Severus was next to him, trying admirably to suppress a snort, but ultimately failing in the face of Albus Dumbledore’s completely baffled expression. He wondered just how long the potions Master had waited for someone to take the know-it-all down a peg or two. “Ginevra Molly Weasley, I leave you this: I never would have married you. Even if you weren’t a gold digging whore, I’m so very not interested. So all the love potions you were trying to slip me wouldn’t have worked anyway, sorry.” Harry shrugged and Draco wondered why Hadrian chose that moment to squeeze his hand again.Ginevra’s face joined the group of red-faced, angry people on the left side of the table. It was clear she had no idea how Harry knew about the love potions or the marriage contract. Draco had to beat down the overwhelming sense of anger he got when he thought about the Weaselette marrying Hadrian against his will. He unconsciously pressed his thigh against the man beside him, wanting to remind himself that Hadrian had no interest in the youngest Weasley and would never fall for her tricks.“And now, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,” Harry said, his face positively murderous. The defeated look on the Headmaster’s face was all Draco needed to know that this day had not gone the way the man wanted it to. “There is so much I want to say to you old man, but I think I’ll just leave you with just this; you will absolutely get what’s coming to you. I’ve made sure of it.” Dumbledore’s face was deathly pale and Draco didn’t think he had seen anything so satisfying in his entire life. He was so looking forward to the year to come. “Wait,” Granger said as Dumbledore got up to leave the bank and Harry Potter’s will behind. “He hasn’t said who the new Lord Potter-Black is, has he?” The glint in Hadrian’s eye that had grown steadily since Harry started humiliating his fake friends was at full force now and there was nothing in the world that could stop his smirk from showing. “That’s because,” he said, looking straight into Dumbledore’s eye, “dear Harry hasn’t finished yet.”Hadrian watched as Dumbledore slumped back into his chair, no doubt having realised that Lord Hadrian Peverell was the only person in the room Harry hadn’t bequeathed anything too yet. He was so very pleased with this plan. He should have done it years ago. “Lord Peverell is correct,” Ragnok spoke up, “the late Lord Potter-Black has requested that you all remain attentive for the final aspect of his Will.” The vicious grin the Goblin sported spoke only of pain for the occupants of the room. Well, at least for those opposing Harry Potter.Ragnok tapped the glowing orb once more and Harry continued to speak. “Last, but certainly not least is Hadrian Corvus Peverell. I know you don’t know me but, aside from those in the Black family, you are the closest living direct relative I could find. I don’t think Dumbledore knows about you, so I’m sorry if this outs you to the Wizarding World but I could use some help.” Harry gave them all a small smile.” I’ve left you a letter of instructions, all the things I want to get done before the war or my uncle ends my life. I’ve also left you everything else I have. The Potter and Black Lordships, and everything that goes with them, are now yours. Expect requests for meetings with various people I’ve asked to come see you in the event of my death and heat from the people who thought they deserved everything from me. Thank you in advance for all you will undoubtedly do for me in the future.”Harry paused for a moment and looked around the room. Hadrian had felt very dramatic while recording this and thanked Merlin Tom wasn’t here to see his display. He would be too proud and Hadrian would never hear the end of it.“This concludes the last will and testament of Harry James Potter-Black, Lord Potter, Lord Black. I wish half of you a very long and happy rest of your lives, and to the other half; fuck off and I’ll see you all in hell,” Harry finished, sadistic mirth in his eyes and the image faded. The orb stopped glowing indicating the end of Harry Potter’s will reading and Ragnok rose from his seat at the head of the table and nodded to Hadrian. He would be taking Griphook to retrieve the items Harry had bequeathed and returning to distribute them accordingly.Hadrian smirked at the murderous looks he was receiving from not only Dumbledore but Granger and the three unsavoury Weasleys. He was so very pleased with this plan. “How on earth are you Harry’s closest living direct relative,” Granger asked once she came down from her initial shock. “I’ve never heard of the Potters being related to the Peverell’s.” Hadrian snorted and bit back a comment about her never having admitted to not knowing anything before. He Squeezed Draco’s hand in amusement, belatedly realising the blonde had never let go and was now significantly closer to him than when they arrived. It felt wonderful. “It seems a bit of a history lesson is in order before Ragnok and Griphook return.” Draco squeezed Hadrian’s hand and he had to stop himself from turning to stare reverently into the beautiful silver eyes just next to him. This blonde was too much. “You know of the three Peverell brothers, yes?” Hadrian asked the table. Nods of acknowledgement from everyone let him continue. “Well our dear Harry was a direct descendant of the youngest brother, Ignotus Peverell. There came a time in Ignotus’ line where only Iolanthe Peverell was left. She married Hardwin Potter and thus continued the Potter line until Harry Potter. I am a direct descendant of Antioch Peverell, the eldest brother and, thus, the Lordship is carried on through my line. When Antioch was murdered, no one was aware he had a wife and son and that, due to the circumstances of Antioch’s death, they went into hiding shortly after he died.” Hadrian observed the gleam in Dumbledore’s eye and knew as soon as he stepped through the doors of Hogwarts, the man would be trying to win Hadrian over to the Light. “My family has lived in many places over the years but returned to Britain in the seventeenth century. Amarantha Peverell married Ralston Potter and, due to Ralston’s unpopular status within his own family, the couple’s son carried the Peverell name. I have both Potter and Peverell blood, much like Harry. Though mine is distinctly more Peverell and Harry’s distinctly more Potter. It is a shame that we never got the chance to meet. I think I would have liked my cousin.”Hadrian finished talking just as the two Goblins entered carrying a shrunken box each. They stalked to the head of the table and enlarged the two boxes for everyone to see. Each person was passed their gift from Harry but Hadrian kept his eyes trained on Charlie Weasley. The stocky redhead accepted a wrapped spherical shaped object, about 12 inches tall and a letter with his name neatly printed on the front in Harry’s recognisable scratchy handwriting. Charlie opened the letter and gasped in shock. The parchment fluttered down to the table when Charlie abandoned it in order to tear into the wrapping around his gift. Hadrian watched as his eyes widened, mouth agape, an expression crossed between awe and childish excitement adorning his face. Sat in front of him was a sleek black egg, nestled comfortably in the discarded brown wrapping paper.Charlie looked up from the egg and stared disbelievingly at Ragnok. “Is this what I think it is?” he asked, his voice shaking just a little. Before Ragnok could answer Hadrian spoke up. “It’s a Hebridean Black,” he said and all eyes snapped back to him. It really was so satisfying to be able to control a room this way. “Ironically enough, it was in the Black Archive vault.”Charlie Weasley stared at Hadrian wide eyed for a moment, his hand absently stroking the smooth exterior of the dragon egg before him. “Is it alive?” he asked finally and seemed to both relax and tense in anticipation with Hadrian’s nod. Hadrian watched as the room’s occupants collected their belongings and knew he would treasure the memory of Dumbledore’s affronted and confused expression for a very long time. He imagined Tom would find this equally enjoyable and vowed to show him the memory when he returned home.“Well then,” Hadrian said, regretfully unlocking his hand from Draco’s as he stood. The wolves immediately standing in respect of him. “Those of you who have business with the new Lord Potter-Black are more than welcome to accompany me to sort out the particulars. I believe we have encroached ourselves on the Goblins for too long already.” He nodded respectfully in Giphook’s direction and bowed with a fist over his chest to Director Ragnok before helping Draco stand from his chair. With a hand on the small of Draco’s back Hadrian walked calmly out of the Gringotts meeting room, his people obediently following behind him. He noted the stunned forms of the three Weasley’s, Granger and Dumbledore sitting stiffly at the table and wondered how long it would take before Ragnok threw the rabble out. He was so very pleased with this plan.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Wednesday 25th June, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Tom’s Study) 
Tom was amused. Something that seemed to be happening a lot more now Hadrian Peverell was a constant in his life. The boy was young and exciting and just a breath of fresh air after all the stuffy pureblood traditionalists Tom had spent most of his life around. Hadrian was very good at cracking the masks of the very purebloods who prided themselves on their unbreakable emotional control and he revelled in talking circles around them until they broke. It so happened that it was poor Lucius Malfoy who had taken the brunt of Hadrian’s amusement so far this summer and Tom immensely enjoyed watching the two interact.Tom could understand the appeal, of course. Riling Lucius up has been a favourite pass-time of Tom’s since he marked the boy straight out of Hogwarts. Lucius’ haughty Malfoy exterior hid the most Gryffindor emotional tendencies that would leap out at the first sign of an insult to his name, and Tom had no idea where he got it from. Abraxas Malfoy was the most Slytherin of Tom’s original Knights and he assumed the late Lord brought his son up in his image. It was apparent that Tom assumed wrong, however, as Lucius Malfoy himself was pacing the Dark Lord’s study muttering incoherently at the audacity of Hadrian Peverell’s latest insult to his character. The group of wolves as well as Draco and Severus had recently departed with Hadrian to Gringotts for Harry Potter’s will reading (another thought that greatly amused the Dark Lord and he hoped Hadrian would be willing to share the memories upon his return). During their journey to the floo, Lucius had expressed the intent of accompanying his son to the bank to ensure his heir’s protection, despite knowing the Goblins would never let him enter without an invitation and not having received one. His mistrust of Hadrian’s ability was clear with his actions and Hadrian did not take kindly to the insult. He was the more powerful of the two Lords and Lucius should have known not to question Hadrian’s ability to protect his guests. Tom would forever treasure the memory of Lucius’ affronted look as Hadrian turned to the Malfoy Lord and told him, in the simplest terms, to ‘shove his weak protection up his ass because Draco wouldn’t need it,’ for as long as he lived. Enduring the irate blonde pacing his office for an hour after the event was well worth the entertainment. He’d often thanked his lucky stars that his horcrux was not some feeble-minded Light-aligned Dumbledore fanatic. It was much more entertaining this way.“My Lord,” Lucius said as he stopped pacing directly in front of Tom’s desk, eyes blazing with something Tom could only assume was self-righteous fury, “he is arrogant and rude. Must you allow his disrespect for authority to continue?” Tom chuckled. He stood from his seat behind the desk and walked over to the Malfoy Lord, resting his hands on the blonde’s shoulders in a form of comfort Tom was not particularly comfortable or familiar with. He really hoped his Death Eater knew how out of his way Tom was going to comfort and control the silly blonde. There was no way he was going to initiate something as uncouth as touching again for a very long time. “You, my dear Lucius, have to understand that, while my Hadrian may be young, he ranks above you in every aspect of society and he will not stop until you have learnt your place.” Wide silver eyes looked back at Tom and he had to feel a little bad for the poor pompous git. He was being shown up by a sixteen year old and that had to be hard on anyone’s ego. Let alone someone as dependent on public opinion for his own self worth as Lucius Malfoy. “You also have to remember that Hadrian has taken a liking to your son and he, in his basest form, is a very territorial being. He’s trying to prove to Draco that he is better equipped to take care of your young heir than you, yourself are Lucius.” The blonde opened his mouth, no doubt to stammer some weak retort about his worth in the eyes of his son, but Tom lifted a hand to silence him, nothing but finality in his tone. “He is far more capable of looking after young Draco than you will ever be Lucius, so cease with this useless pacing and figure out a way to get on my Hadrian’s good side so I no longer have to field your petty arguments and Draco no longer feels caught between the two of you. Because, dear Lucius, I can assure you that if he has to choose between his father and the powerful Vampire Lord who has taken his fancy, your Draco would not be choosing you.”  (Peverell Manor, Formal Sitting Room)  Draco’s heart was beating so hard he was sure the entire Manor could hear it. Hadrian led him smoothly out of the floo and headed towards the sitting room, his warm hand burning though the silk of Draco’s shirt at the small of his back. Draco revelled in the familiar contact from this powerful, handsome man and wished dearly that it would be a constant fixture in whatever their new relationship turned out to be. Hadrian led the two to the formal sitting room and situated Draco on the plush armchair closest to the welcoming hearth. He couldn’t help being a little disappointed he and Hadrian were not currently occupying the loveseat, but understood this was probably not the time for pining the loss of the vampire Lord’s warm thigh against his own. Hadrian had important business to do after all. Voices floated in from the open doorway, and Draco watched as Hadrian’s guests took in the wonder of Peverell Manor. It had nothing on the elegance and opulence of Draco’s own home, in his admittedly biased opinion, but it was homey and stylish without screaming untold wealth like some pureblood manor’s. Black and Lupin were directed to the loveseat Draco had previously eyed, and Draco had to chuckle at the light blush that sprouted on both men’s cheeks. It was highly amusing that Harry Potter set up his own father in his last will and testament. It was such a Potter thing to do that Draco couldn’t help but admire it. William and Charles Weasley were directed to a couch furthest from the warmth of the fire while Severus and Hadrian settled on armchairs clustered with Draco’s own. The subtle power play present in the seating arrangement reminded Draco fondly of the Slytherin common room. Everyone knew the best seat was always the second armchair from the fire and Hadrian sat proudly in that position. Draco absently wondered how long it would take Hadrian to claim that particular seat in the Slytherin common room, come September. He didn’t think it would be especially long. Draco observed the stiff composure of the four newcomers that showed how uncomfortable they all must be in the presence of such wealth and power. He wondered how different their reactions would be if they knew exactly who sat before them. The Dark Lord himself was probably just down the hall planning a revolution in his study. Draco watched as Hadrian ordered tea through a House Elf and introduced himself formally, probably aiming to relax his guests. Draco didn’t think it worked particularly well if the forced, unpracticed responses were anything to go by, but maybe Hadrian wasn’t going for friendly in this meeting, rather official . “There are a few conditions Harry set in order for the two of you to formally become Friends of the House Potter,” Hadrian began, addressing the two Weasleys across from him. “If those conditions are met, there will be a great many benefits that come with your new status, including the opportunity to seek unquestioned sanctuary with me if at any point, should you require it.” Both Charles and William nodded in understanding, looking nowhere near as nervous at the mention of conditions as Draco thought they should be. He had learnt a lot about Harry Potter over the past few days and if he understood one thing, it was that he was a vindictive little shit when he wanted to be. Draco imagined the conditions for protection from House Potter would be a lot higher than the Weasleys imagined. “What exactly are these conditions, Lord Peverell?” the eldest Weasley asked and Draco smirked at the gleam in Hadrian’s eye. He hoped they would have to prove their loyalty completely before Hadrian let them in on his numerous secrets. It would only be right considering the rest of their redheaded family. “Harry has asked that you spend a month as the guests of a traditional pureblood family in order to accurately understand both sides of the current political climate. You will of course be allowed to work as long as you spend at least a total of twenty nights within the chosen family’s company and actively seek to learn about their lifestyle, political views and general understanding of magic.” Both Weasley’s looked so shocked Draco couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. He felt a blush rise up his neck as everyone turned to look at him, then Hadrian cleared his throat to continue. As the attention was drawn back to the vampire lord, Draco noticed a set of eyes lingered on him longer than the rest. The younger Weasley’s ice blue gaze ran over his form and Draco couldn’t help but shudder at the feeling. He was so used to the piercing intensity of Hadrian’s stare, the younger Weasley’s amorous gaze felt wrong in comparison.“At the end of the month,” Hadrian continued, “you will come to me and outline your experience, how you felt about it and we’ll go from there.” Incredulity was present on the Weasley’s faces as Hadrian paused. They clearly thought this whole plan was crazy, but Draco could see the appeal. Letting the eldest Weasley boys see how they should have been raised by their pureblood parents would definitely give them some perspective on the failings of Arthur and Molly Weasley. Dinner was also the most important meal of any social gathering, so spending at least twenty present for the discussion politics and world views of a pureblood family would ensure the Weasley’s understood what the upper class actually wanted to accomplish. Not whatever Dumbledore’s propaganda spewed about their goals. “You, of course, have the opportunity now to decline Harry’s offer and go on your merry way,” Hadrian said, with a hint of a smirk across his lips. “But know that as soon as you accept, you will be required to carry out the full month before you can return to your normal lives.” Hadrian flicked his wand slightly and a pile of parchment appeared in front of him. He shuffled through the stack, found what he was looking for and passed it over to William. “This is Harry’s instructions to me in case you were doubting my credibility. You can check its authenticity if you want.” Draco didn’t bother covering up his snort this time at the look of pure shock on the Weasley’s faces. Like someone of Hadrian’s status would ever need to prove himself to people such as this. “You are too kind, Lord Peverell,” he said before he could think. His disdain for the Weasley family was well known, but this probably wasn’t the correct environment to be antagonising anyone. Hadrian had goals Draco didn’t want to disrupt. “You are quite right, of course Draco,” Hadrian replied, waving away the apologetic look the Malfoy heir sent in his direction and encouraging the eldest Weasley to check the authenticity of Harry Potter’s instructions. The ice blue gaze of Charles returned to his form and a pit formed in Draco’s stomach as he had the horrible thought that something was about to go terribly wrong. Draco glanced at Severus to avoid the unwanted stare and the calculating look in his silent godfather’s eyes did not reassure him. “We will of course be accepting the offer,” William started when he was sure of Harry’s instructions credibility. “What family will we be required to stay with?” Hadrian seemed to be thinking as his eyes travelled over the room. Draco saw as Hadrian’s shoulders stiffened when he came upon the younger Weasley and braced himself for something, anything to happen. He wasn’t sure of what exactly, but he knew there was something wrong with this situation. His skin was crawling and he felt more open and vulnerable than he had in a long time. There was a hardness in Hadrian’s eyes he had only witnessed when the vampire was confronting Draco’s father and despite how harsh he knew Hadrian could be, Draco felt no remorse for whatever Charles Weasley was about to face.  Hadrian let his gaze travel the room, noticing the interested gleam in his father’s eyes, the cautious protectiveness of Remus’s posture and Severus’ calculating observation of the situation. He lingered slightly on Draco’s beautiful form before looking back at the Weasley’s to provide his answer. He was marvelling once again at his own dramatic tendencies when he noticed it. Charlie fucking Weasley, Gryffindor’s star seeker (despite being the hunk of muscle that he was) and Dragon handler extrodinare, was staring at his mate. Eyes roving over the long-limbed form of the most perfect person Hadrian had ever seen, lingering in places Hadrian had been fantasising about since he was fourteen and Draco had turned up to the Yule ball in the most exquisite sapphire blue robes. The vampire saw red. It was all Hadrian could do to soften his eyes and keep his voice steady as turned to the Malfoy heir intent on getting him out of the redhead’s line of sight. “Draco, darling?” Hadrian asked, revelling in the slight blush that adorned Draco’s cheeks at the term of endearment. “Yes, my Lord - ah, I mean - yes, Hadrian?” It was clear Draco still was not completely comfortable in his new Lord’s presence. Hadrian would have to rectify that mistake as soon as possible. His mate would have to be sure of his position in Hadrian’s life: above all else and completely superior. “Would you be a dear and fetch your father for me?” Hadrian asked, hoping to all hell the blonde would not think he was trying to get rid of him, despite the fact that was exactly what he was trying to do. “I’ll need you to make sure his head is in the right place this evening,” he added with a smirk, because, despite his current frustrations, he didn’t want too much drama tonight. “He’s going to be playing host to a few Weasleys.”There was a look of understanding immediately within Draco’s eyes and Hadrian could not have been prouder of his mate. He was just so damn smart Hadrian could swoon. He wouldn’t though. At least not in the presence of others. “Of course, Hadrian,” Draco replied, making his way to the door after a deep bow in Hadrian’s direction. “I will make sure he behaves.” The smirk shared between them was positively wicked and Hadrian thought he saw the oldest Weasleys shiver at the sight. Good. They should be wary of his intentions. Especially if they were going to be making eyes at his Draco. As soon as the door snapped shut behind Draco Hadrian let out an almost feral snarl. Shocking the room doubly when he stepped right into the face of Charlie fucking Weasley. Leaning over the still seated form of the former seeker and bracing his arms on the back of the couch. The room was completely still, holding their breath at the sight of the clearly irate vampire, no doubt wondering what the second oldest Weasley had done to incur his wrath. Remus had moved every so slightly in front of Sirius in an attempt to protect his intended mate. Hadrian was pleased. They should be fucking scared right now. He was pissed. He moved his face so close to Charlie’s their noses brushed, then leaned in to snarl in the redhead’s ear. “You may be a Dragon handler Charlie Weasley, but you so much as think about Draco Malfoy in that way again and they will be finding your remains for centuries. Believe me, I have the time.” His mouth was so close to the redhead’s pulse, fluttering frantically with the pure terror he was no doubt feeling at the moment, and Hadrian just had to. He scraped his fangs along the pale expanse of skin before him and snickered at the tremor that wrecked through Charlie’s body. He would never look at Hadrian’s mate with that interest ever again . Especially if he wanted to remain alive. “I - yes, of course my Lord,” Charlie stuttered, “you have my sincerest apologies. It won’t happen again.” Hadrian snarled once more, just for affect and leaned back from the terror stricken man before him. “See to it that it doesn’t,” he said as he stalked back to his seat by the fire. Doing nothing to break the tension that continued to fill the air. They all knew now; Draco was his. It was for the best. It meant they would leave his mate alone. The tense silence was broken as Draco walked back into the room followed by Lucius and, surprisingly, Tom. Hadrian looked at Draco with a raised eyebrow and the blonde blushed once again. He was finding it harder and harder to ignore the flow of blood under Draco’s pale skin, especially when he blushed so easily under Hadrian’s stare.“Your Uncle was in a meeting with my father when I happened upon them, Hadrian,” Draco explained as he made his way back to his seat. Hadrian noted the slight smirk on his face and wondered how much the Malfoy heir had already been aware of his father’s tendency to speak before thinking and getting himself in trouble. If he knew that Lucius was likely to get in more trouble than he could conceivably handle if he spoke out against Hadrian for the third time in as many days. “I hope you don’t mind me tagging along, Hadrian,” Tom began, amusement shining in his glamoured eyes. “You know I love it when you have company,” he smirked darkly, eyes flicking slightly to Lucius as he made his way to a free seat, “it’s always so entertaining.” Hadrian chuckled, baring his teeth in what might possibly pass as a smile when Lucius caught his eye. He wasn’t very happy with the Malfoy Lord at the moment and he hoped Draco had managed to talk some sense into the man before he entered the room. Hadrian was already in a bad mood. He didn’t need Lucius making it worse. Lucius moved to sit in the chair next to Tom when Hadrian shook his head. “No need to get comfortable Lucius,” Hadrian rose and stalked across the room. “I’m sure Draco’s told you but I’ll reiterate; these two gentlemen here,” he gestured to the two, still slightly shaken Weasleys, “are in need of an upstanding pureblood family to learn from for the next month. I’ve volunteered the Malfoy’s for the job.” Hadrian was smirking openly now as Lucius’s looked at him in complete horror. “Weasley’s, my Lord?” he said and Hadrian was mildly surprised he managed without stuttering, he looked do shaken. “You expect me to house Weasleys for a month? Do you know who I am?” Hadrian narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly who Lucius Malfoy was, knew more than Lucius probably realised, and he was not particularly impressed. Lucius seemed to be forgetting exactly who Hadrian was, however. “Are you questioning me again, Lucius?” he said, letting a darkness fuelled by his recent confrontation enter his voice. The Malfoy Lord quickly shook his head, wincing visibly under the pressure of Hadrian’s magic focusing completely on him. His eyes flicked to Tom briefly which pleased Hadrian. It seemed Tom had spoken to his errant Death Eater. “Of course not, my Lord.” Hadrian nodded once. “Good.” He indicated for the Weasley brothers to stand and steered them in Lucius’ direction. “We wouldn’t want to make a habit of that now would we, Lucius?” Lucius replied in the negative again then formally greeted Bill and Charlie. “You will all be civil for the next month, won’t you?” Hadrian asked as he escorted the trio to the door and smiled sweetly at the hasty conformations he received as they left. Oh to be a fly on the wall at the Malfoy house for dinner tonight. Hadrian imagined it would be a very tense affair. Tom just loved having Hadrian around. He was always so entertaining… and in the most creative ways! Tom never would have thought to punish Lucius by making him play host to Weasleys for a month. Where the boy came up with these things, Tom didn’t know, but he was definitely keeping the cheeky brat around for as long as he could. Tom observed the werewolf and Black as Hadrian explained to them his life story, his plans and the circumstances around ‘Harry Potter’s’ death. It was in a similar manner to his explanation to Severus, Draco and Lucius just a few days ago, but he seemed to have played down the pain of his childhood a little. It seemed Hadrian didn’t want his Father feeling more guilt than he already did for abandoning him for something so petty as revenge. Oh, who was he kidding? Tom would have done exactly the same thing. Though he liked to think he would have succeeded in killing the stupid rat before being sent to Azkaban. Then came the moment Tom had been waiting for; Hadrian asked the wolf if he wanted to be marked. Tom was very interested in Hadrian’s marking process. He knew there was no pain, unlike his own, and the Magic determined the positioning of the Mark, rather than the caster’s own intentions. But he knew very little else and was almost excited to witness the act in person. The wolf knelt before his new Lord, head bowed, posture relaxed and Tom was impressed. He knew Lupin was a dominant wolf, yet here he was submitting to another, a vampire no less. He must have immense trust in Hadrian to be so exposed in with him, especially with his intended mate present. Hadrian stood in front of his honorary godfather and began the Marking. “Do you, Remus John Lupin, swear to protect, serve and obey me to the best of your ability?” he asked, eyes intent on the newest of his wolves.“I swear it, my Lord,” Lupin replied, his voice shaking lightly as the magic in the room built in pressure. Hadrian nodded and began pacing a loose circle around the kneeling man. A low latin chant followed him that Tom couldn’t quite make out and would have to ask Hadrian for later. The circle was made three times before Hadrian once again stood before his new subordinate. He placed a hand on Lupin’s shoulder and spoke his final lines “Let Magic acknowledge that I, Hadrian Corvus Peverell, Lord Thanatos, accept you, Remus John Lupin as a Wolf from this day until you should wish to leave my service.” Tom was quietly shocked that Hadrian did not bind his followers for life. He was sure that, if they ever chose to leave, they would be leaving with no memory of Lord Thanatos or any of his associates, but having the option open was something new to the Dark Lord. He wondered how many of his Death Eaters would have left him before the end of the last war if he had allowed them anything but eternal service to his cause. Lupin gasped as the magic of the marking ritual settled over him and his mark formed. He lifted the hem of his right pant leg to expose his newly decorated calf. Running from knee to ankle on the back of Lupin’s leg was the mark of Lord Thanatos, surrounded by tender pink skin, the wolf howled up at Death’s moon and Lupin could not have looked prouder. He turned to Black and beamed at him before they both stood and bowed low to their Lord. “Thank you so much for this honour, my Lord,” Lupin said, shaking slightly with what Tom assumed was residual magic running through his body. He wondered how it felt, exactly, to submit to someone so freely, to be so controlled by one person that your very magic is linked to theirs. He didn’t think he wanted to find out, no matter how good some people seemed to think it felt. He was used to being in charge and he didn’t think he would give that up for anyone. “We should return to Grimmuald now, my Lord,” Black said from beside his mate. “The old coot will be wondering what you wanted to speak to us about. I’ll give my report to Neville as usual?” Hadrian nodded gracefully and stood to show his wolves to the floo room, running his hand along the back of the young Malfoy’s chair as he passed. Tom chuckled. Oh to be young and in love, he mused. How disgusting. 
(Thursday 26th June, 1997 : Malfoy Manor, Charlie's Room)
Charlie opened the paper at his first morning in Malfoy Manor and gasped. He knew he should have expected this, it should have been obvious as soon as Lucius Malfoy was so blatantly ordered to house him and his brother by the Lord Peverell, but for some reason it shocked him. 
Change in Chief

Thurs 26th June, 1997

In a shocking turn of events last night the British Wizengamot has a new Chief Warlock for the first time in 16 years. The British Lords and Ladies met late last night when it became apparent Albus Dumbledore no longer qualified to be Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. After no more than an hour of discussion it was announced that the Dark Alliance now had the majority and Lord Lucius Malfoy would be taking up the position in Mr. Dumbledore’s stead. 
For those who don’t know, the Wizengamot is split into three distinct parties; the Light Alliance, the Dark Alliance and the Neutral Alliance. The Chief Warlock is chosen from the heads of the three parties, depending on which has the most individual votes in their Alliance. The Light Alliance have maintained the majority since the downfall of You-Know-Who in 1981 and their head Albus Dumbledore has held the Chief Warlock position all this time. 
At Harry Potter’s will reading just yesterday morning, it was found that his titles have been passed on to none other than Britain’s latest curiosity, Lord Hadrian Peverell. In a short interview with Lord Peverell as he left the  Wizengamot, I found that Harry Potter’s two seats; the Black and Potter Lordships, had been used by Albus Dumbledore since the late Lord and Lady Potter’s death, under the proxy agreement of 1765.
‘Mr. Potter stated Mr. Dumbledore had been using his two seats on the Wizengamot since his inheritance of them in 1981 and never once told the poor boy they existed, let alone what he was voting for.’ Lord Peverell said with a downtrodden expression. It was very clear he was shaken by the unfairness of his predecessor’s life. ‘There is a whole section of the proxy contract that clearly states a minor of Hogwarts age must be informed of the way their seats are voting for at least the major bills and trials.’ 
I for one was appalled to hear our great Albus Dumbledore has held a prominent position in our governing body unlawfully for all this time, and asked whether that was the reason the Potter and Black seat alignment has changed parties.
Lord Peverell assured me it was at Harry Potter’s request that his seats be aligned with the Dark Alliance and that the late Lord Potter-Black agreed with a majority of the Alliance’s views. ‘He left me a list of changes he wanted to make in Wizarding Britain,’ Lord Peverell told me with a fond look in his eye. ‘He was very passionate about Creature rights and upholding the Statute of Secrecy. Mr. Dumbledore has used Mr. Potter’s seats to vote in favour of laws directly opposing those views in the past and I have been assured by both the Goblins and the Ministry that I can change Mr. Potter’s votes posthumously due to the nature of Mr. Dumbledore’s actions.” 
It seems to me, dear readers, that a great many things are going to be changing in Wizarding Britain in the future. Will we benefit from these changes or not, we can only guess.

Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet

Albus Dumbledore had been in indisputable control of magical Britain for as long as Charlie could remember but things were obviously  changing. Lord Peverell, whether he was working on Harry’s orders or not, would shake the foundations of Magical Britain in a way even You-Know-Who never managed. He had the Daily Prophet on his side and an openly low opinion of Dumbledore. He could influence a great many people, pureblood, halfblood and muggleborn. Charlie dearly hoped the young Lord would change things for the better.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Friday 27th June, 1997 : Hogwarts, Headmaster’s Office)

Sirius Black - Innocent?

Fri 27th June, 1997

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has just announced the most shocking news. It became apparent after the will reading of Harry Potter-Black that when the Potter’s went into hiding that fateful October in 1981, their secret keeper was not in fact Sirius Black as we all thought, but presumed-dead Peter Pettegrew. 
The DMLE further shocked us when they announced an anonymous source had delivered none other than Peter Pettegrew himself to the Ministry’s doorstep last night. 
I, of course, asked how the whole of Britain could assume the guilt of a wrongly accused man and DMLE Head Madam Amelia Bones provided my answer. ‘After an extensive search through the departmental records, it was found that Sirius Orion Black was never given his lawful right to a trial by Wizengamot before his imprisonment in 1981.’ Madame Bones admitted at a stilted press conference this morning with a grim face. 
‘The DMLE is working as swiftly as possible to rectify this mistake and a trial for both Peter Pettegrew and Sirius Black has been scheduled for the 3rd of July.’ 
The Ministry is now requesting the presence of Azkaban escapee Sirius Black so he can receive his long awaited trial and has assured me they are taking measures to prevent gross misconduct of this nature happening again.

Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet

Albus Dumbledore slammed the Daily Prophet down on his desk, rattling his many trinkets and startling the portraits of previous headmasters awake. He was losing pawns left and right and it was all Harry Potter’s fault. The boy should be happy he was already dead because Albus was furious with him. How he managed to ruin so many of Albus’ plans from beyond the grave was quite frankly astounding. He was beginning to think Harry had been a great deal smarter than anyone had given him credit for. He had certainly managed to get Rita Skeeter on his side, something Albus had never been able to achieve, even at the height of his power. All Albus knew for certain was that this had to stop. He had to find a way to get the public back on his side. He would have to organise something to remind them all of the hero he was. Just what that would be, he didn’t know yet. It was time to call a meeting of his pawns. They might have some ideas, they all loved him after all. 
(Friday 27th June 1997 : Peverell Manor, Ballroom) 
Luna’s tinkling laugh echoed through the ballroom. Her Lord, who was setting up a dais at the far end of the room, looked over at the noise. “What has amused you so, Little Moon?” he enquired, sounding genuinely interested. It was one of the things Luna loved most about her Lord; when she was talking to him, he actually paid attention. She hadn’t experienced that much before she met her Lord and treasured him all the more for making her feel welcome.  “The bee is making a mess of his hive, my Lord. He’s surrounded by nargles and doesn’t know how to get rid of them,” she replied. Her Lord chuckled, the deep sound soothing her. “That sounds like a truly hilarious sight, my love. Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the next Order meeting,” he sighed. Luna knew that her Lord would most likely be asking his father for the memory at a later date, and that Tom would most likely find it all just as amusing. Luna was very excited about her Lord’s plans. Though he had done nothing to her personally, Luna despised Dumbledore and all that he stood for. Her magic was pure and, because of this, she understood the importance of magical balance. It was inconceivable that half the magic in the world should be deemed illegal. Magic was like all natural things and would fall apart without the intrinsic balance created for it to survive. Dumbledore wished to overwhelm the world with Light magic and Luna knew this would kill Lady Magic. Without Dark magic around to even out the emissions, the very foundation of magic would crumble and fall. And with it the very world. Luna watched as her Lord set up for the first combined Wolf and Death Eater meeting and was sure that, with Hadrian Peverell and Tom Riddle working together, magic would be saved. 
(Saturday 28th June 1997 : Peverell Manor, Sunroom) 
“Hello, Draco,” Luna said, as she poured a second cup of tea. It was early still, the sun illuminating the room with a soft glow and bouncing off the silver blonde locks of the girl seated comfortably at the garden table in the room’s centre.  “Oh -,” Draco exclaimed, obviously not expecting to encounter someone so early on a Saturday morning. Luna had noticed the young man liked to rise before everyone else in order to spend some time on his own before the wolves awoke. She understood. Living with a small family for your whole life did nothing to prepare you for waking up to deal with the Weasley twins and Barty. They were much more than only the most patient person could handle in the morning. Luna admired her Lord for his ability to do just that. “I apologise, Ms Lovegood,” Draco said, bowing awkwardly and turning to vacate the sunroom, “I did not mean to disturb your morning.” “Nonsense, Draco,” Luna replied, leaving out more of her airy tone than usual. She knew Draco was uncomfortable in her presence at the moment and didn’t want to scare him away. They would have to be able to get along after all. Their Lord would not be getting rid of either of them for a very long time. “Come have tea.” He looked conflicted for a moment before striding forward on those long legs of his and elegantly lowering himself into the wrought iron chair opposite hers. “How are you this morning, Draco?” she asked in an attempt to break the ice. There were a great many things Luna could say to the blonde now, but she knew her Lord had plans and, as much as she knew Hadrian was going about this the long way, Luna would not get in his way. “I am fine, Ms Lovegood. The guest rooms here are more than satisfactory, so I slept well.” Luna smiled, small and prettily and looked up at Draco with her large, pale blue eyes. “He hasn’t told you, Draco?” she asked innocently, even though she knew for a fact Hadrian had been waiting to inform the blonde. “Who hasn’t told me what?” Draco asked, his eyes betraying his curiosity even if his face blocked off all emotions.“Why, my Lord is making the most beautiful rooms for you,” she sang and watched as his eyes widened. “The wrackspurts have swarmed him the past week but they will leave him alone soon enough. You will not be disappointed.”  “Indeed,” Draco muttered, looking down at his tea, probably to hide the light blush that rose on his cheeks. Luna could see Draco was confused by her words, but he would understand soon enough. People always did. The pair sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea and savouring the peace and quiet before the rowdier wolves awoke. Luna had no doubt this morning would be more hectic than most, as her Lord’s father would be present to encourage Barty and the twins. She said as much to Draco and giggled lightly at the groan he released. He looked as if he wished to never leave the quiet of the sunroom. She could understand. They finished their teas and Luna stood, offering her arm to Draco so they could walk together to the dining room. He placed her hand on the crook of his elbow like a proper gentleman and led her from the room. As they passed through the door, leaving the warm glow of the morning behind she turned to him. “Call me Luna,” she said and watched his eyes widen in surprise once again. “After all, we are going to be the best of friends.” 
(Saturday 28th June 1997 : Peverell Manor, Ballroom) 
Luna skipped through the large hall, seemingly oblivious to the deeply oppressive magic suffocating the room and the group of black and forrest green cloaked people gathered there to listen to their Lords. She approached the dais and looked up at the black obsidian throne currently seating her Lord. Killing Curse green stark against golden skin and midnight black robes. His raven hair, tied at the base of his head with a forest green ribbon. Her Lord was as handsome as ever. Giving a low curtsy, then a reverent ‘My Lord’, Luna made her way up onto the dais and sat elegantly on her Lord’s lap. She could feel silver eyes piercing into her back and let a devious smirk grace her angelic features. A certain young Dragon was going to be very mad in a moment and Luna was revelling in the thought of it. Her Lord would never let anything happen to her. And maybe it would get the two of them together. Finally. Luna leaned back into her Lord and whispered in his ear. All eyes were on her and the way her Lord was making small circles with his fingers, slowly running up her thighs. “The bee will get caught in the raven’s nest, my Lord. He will come to find Death.”“Mmm, thank you Little Moon,” the deep rumbling voice of the Lord Thanatos sent shivers down Luna’s spine as he dragged his nose along the sensitive skin of her neck. “Do the twins have an update for me?” “They are coming, my Lord. I came early to take care of your nargles.” Her Lord chuckled and Luna watched in fascination as the first two rows of black cloaked people visibly shivered. She could only wonder what they had done to set him off earlier. She had felt his magic from the other side of the Manor. “You should be thankful my Little Moon decided to drop by Avery.” Her Lord’s voice rang out through the large room and a lone figure standing before the mass of cloaks behind him sank to his knees. Avery, then. “She has likely saved your life. You know I am not one for mercy when people are stupid enough to question me.” Luna watched gleefully as the whimpering and shaking form of Alexander Avery sank lower to the ground, head almost touching the black marble tiles. He must have said something about a Wolf for her Lord to be reacting in this way, she hoped her Lord would still punish him, despite her interruption. She leaned back into the hard chest and looked over the congregation before her. She felt like a Queen and, though her Lord held her above almost anyone in the world, she knew she needed to act in order to allow the real queen to take his place. Luna doubted he would be as willing to put on such public displays of affection as she, though they could always share her Lords lap. He was certainly capable of holding them both. “What has the little bird been up to, my Lord?” she asked, not bothering to lower her voice in the slightest. She wanted the Death Eaters to know just how high she was in her Lord’s ranks. She could ask him questions with little thought for the consequences. He would never hurt her. A growl rippled through her Lord’s chest and his verdant gaze locked back onto the prostrated form on the tiles below. “Why don’t you tell her, Avery, exactly what it was you said to me.” The disdain in his voice clear for the room to hear. It wasn’t often her Lord allowed so much emotion to bleed through his masks in a public setting. Avery must have been very stupid indeed. “My - my Lord, I do not think it wise -,” Avery started looking only at the crimson eyed Lord beside her, before Luna took things into her own hands. This piece of filth had said something to anger her Lord and now had the nerve to undermine his authority. He was the most powerful being in this world and deserved their undying respect. Avery would not walk out of this room without knowing so, if Luna had anything to say about it. She flicked her wand at Avery silencing him before he could make any more misjudgments about his place in the world and stood from her seat in her Lord’s lap. Looking back at the two powerful figures behind her, Luna received two nods of affirmation, then stalked down off the dais in pursuit of her prey. “I think what you mean to say, little bird, is ‘yes, my Lord Thanatos’ and then you answer his question.” Her voice was as light and airy as always but held the glint of steel her Lord had honed into his most powerful weapon. Luna was much more capable, more ruthless, than anyone save her Lord knew. Avery looked into her eyes as she lifted the silencing charm and sneered at her. “I will not answer to some little girl.” Luna cocked her head to the side in thought for a moment, heard her Lord’s chuckle at the movement, one of her tells that something dangerous was about to happen, and raised her wand. She pointed it directly between Avery’s watery blue eyes and cast her spell. It was an old spell she had learnt from the library Salazar Slytherin so graciously left under Hogwarts for their perusal. It temporarily blinded the victim and instead of being surrounded by blackness, it caused them to witness their most painful moments. The Dark Lord Voldemort’s Death Eaters were particularly susceptible to this curse, Luna had found, as proven by Avery writhing in imagined agony on tiles. That was the beauty of the curse, it was all in your head so one could be under it for as long as the caster chose and the only damage done would be that of the mind. Luna didn’t particularly care about Avery’s mind at the moment. He had insulted both her Lord and herself at this point and that was unforgivable within the Wolves. Avery was not a Wolf, however, so she supposed she had better leave Lord Voldemort with a sane Death Eater. Luna released the curse and Avery’s screams watered down to whimpers at her feet. She reached down to the crying man before her and grasped his chin in her delicate hands. Forcing him to meet her eyes. “We’ll try that again, little bird. What was it you said to my Lord that upset him so?” Avery whimpered and struggled with her iron grip, trying desperately to distance himself from her now hateful stare. “I -,” he started before breaking off suddenly, his eyes flicking to her Lord sat elegantly on his throne. Luna imagined he didn’t want to repeat his damned words, especially not in front of Lord Thanatos, who was insulted the first time. She tightened the grip on his chin and Avery was forced to meet her eyes one more time. “Tell me, little bird,” she sang. “Or you won’t like what happens next.” “I merely suggested, Ms Lovegood, that his Lordship might as well have Weasleys for followers for all the good they do for the cause.” Avery’s voice was barely above a whisper and Luna could see he was shaking like a leaf. “I don’t think those were the exact words you used little bird,” she said and the answering growl from her Lord confirmed. “But oh, what the Fire Demons will do to you. You’ll be surrounded by blibbering humdingers for weeks” A glance at her Lord and she knew he had summoned the demons in question. “While we wait…” she raised her wand again and fired a quick succession of silent spells. His left arm shattered, his kneecaps disappeared and he was left with the feeling of spiders crawling over every inch of his skin. As Avery’s cries echoed through the room, Luna made her way back over to her Lord. She curtseyed low again then plopped back down onto his lap to watch the rest of the meeting fold out. Just as she grew bored watching Avery whimper, holding his arm to his chest and unable to stand up from his prostrated position, the double doors at the end of the room opened. Two tall, forest green cloaked figures entered with their hoods up. They walked regally through the mass, stunned silent before them, and up to the dais. With a low bow to their Lord and a respectful incline of the head to Lord Voldemort, the demons addressed Lord Thanatos. “We think we’ve found a solution, my Lord.” Fred said. They were cloaked and hooded but the inner circle had been able to tell them apart by voice long ago. Her Lord could undoubtedly tell them apart by sight alone, but he was on a different level. “The side effects no longer include hair loss and the explosion of the stomach,” George continued. They tended to limit their twin speak in the presence of formal company. Though Luna knew their Lord had no trouble understanding them, it was the twins’ show of respect that they slowed down for an audience. “We believe we will be able to use it effectively these coming months,” Fred finished just as George noticed the limp form of Avery beside him. The two shared a glance with Luna and she nodded, confirming the useless little bird was the reason for their Lord’s furious spike in magic.“That is good to know,” Luna shivered as her Lord’s voice rumbled through her skin. She could feel the tension in his body and knew he would have to feed soon. Instances of high emotion had seemed to drain him since his change. Or maybe it was the presence of his unclaimed mate. “As it so happens,” Lord Thanatos continued a hint of a snarl entering his voice as his magic continued to suffocate the room, “I have found you a new test subject.” He inclined his head in Avery’s direction and the twins shared a manic grin. The room around them was silent except for Avery’s whimpers and Luna wondered whether anyone else could speak with the amount of magical pressure beating down on them, or whether they were all just too terrified to make a sound. Bowing low, the demon twins thanked their Lord sincerely and rounded on the wounded little bird, grabbing an arm each and dragging him out the door. Luna smirked darkly as she thought of all the wonderful products the twins were currently working on down in their lab, and the truly terrible things they could do to poor Avery.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Monday 30th June 1997 : Peverell Manor, Sunroom)

Harry Potter’s life with Muggles

Mon 30th June, 1997

On the 23rd of June I, Rita Skeeter, released an article about a package of information I had received from Harry James Potter himself. I told you, dear readers, that I would release this information to you, as per Mr. Potter’s request, as soon as I had validated the information given to me. I am here now to begin what will be a completely astonishing series of articles revealing the truth about Harry Potter’s mysterious life.

Now, dear readers, you might remember the mystery that surrounded the placement of the orphaned Harry Potter back in 1981. Albus Dumbledore was granted Magical Guardianship of the Potter heir and, though he told no one where he placed the boy, we were all assured Harry Potter was being taken care of by a loving family who would protect Mr. Potter from the bulk of his fame before he reentered our society at the age of eleven. Whenever the question of Mr. Potter’s place of residents was brought up, Mr. Dumbledore refused to give answers, citing his belief that Mr. Potter was safer living anonymously. And we all accepted it.

I am here now to tell you, dear readers, that this was the greatest case of misinformation on behalf of Albus Dumbledore to date. Harry Potter was not placed with a loving wizarding family as we all assumed, but with the magic hating muggle sister of Lily Potter nee Evans and her husband and son. Lily Potter had a publicly frosty relationship with her elder sister, Petunia, and hadn’t spoken to the woman since the disaster at the end of the Potter’s wedding reception you would all remember hearing of. Why Mr. Dumbledore thought this was an appropriate family for our Saviour to grow up with I can only speculate, however, I know now that Harry Potter’s life was nothing pleasant at all.

Mr. Potter not only spent the first eleven years of his life knowing nothing about the world which regarded him as a hero but he was abused by his relatives for the fact he had magic. According to Mr. Potter’s own accounts, before he received his Hogwarts letter, magic was a forbidden word in his home. He was told his parents died in a Muggle automobile accident which he was the cause of and he was made to sleep in the storage cupboard under the stairs in his relatives home. He cooked the Dursley’s meals, cleaned their house and suffered from regular beatings and starving at the hands of his guardians.

There are many of you who would doubt that something like this could happen to our Saviour without anyone knowing, so Mr. Potter granted me leave to publish the results of a detailed medical examination he hired the Goblin Nation to perform just before returning to his relatives house this summer holidays (see results on page 3.). It clearly shows the negative effects living with the Dursley family had on Mr. Potter’s general health and wellbeing. He was a severely malnourished boy and stood at two feet below the average height for a sixteen year old. He had suffered innumerable broken bones, the first of which occurred before he was four years old, and concussions and his skin was a staggering 35% scar tissue… (continued page 3)

Severus placed the

Prophet

down on the table in front of him and loosed a breath, steadying his emotions so he wouldn’t explode all over the Dark Lord’s breakfast. He forced his eyes away from the moving photograph of a fourteen year old Harry Potter sometime during the triwizard tournament and took a drink of his tea, silently wishing it was socially acceptable to drink firewhiskey this early in the morning.

“What is troubling you, Severus?” the Dark Lord, who had requested that  Severus address him as Tom while he was in private within the Manor, asked.

Severus looked up at the ruby red eyes that had haunted his nightmares for so many years, still unaccustomed to seeing them framed by such a normal, albeit beautiful, face. He could, if he looked close enough, see the slight hint of concern in that aristocratic face and marvelled once again and the effect Harry Potter, now Hadrian Peverell seemed to have had on the Dark Lord’s humanity. He seemed to actually concern himself with his followers these days, rather than seeing them as little more than completely subservient cattle, or cannon fodder in his quest to rule the world.

“It is nothing, my Lord,” Severus replied, highly aware that his answer would never be accepted by the persistent man.

“What have I told you about using such formality when you are a guest in my Hadrian’s home, Severus?” he asked, a hint of admonishment in his voice but no real reprimand or danger that Severus could detect.

“Not to use it, my—” Severus stopped himself, struggling to address his Master with less formality than he had used in the past twenty years. “Not to use it, Tom,” he said finally and fought back the flush of anger that rose when the Dark Lord chuckled at his obvious struggle. He was just trying to be respectful and the damn Dark Lord had to be cavalier about it. Like he wouldn’t have held Severus under a

Crucio

for several minutes for even

thinking

the name Tom before Hadrian Peverell came into their lives.

“You will get used to it, Severus,” the Dark Lord smiled over his morning tea, greatly unnerving Severus in the process. He gestured with the cup, to the paper Severus had discarded and asked again; “What is troubling you, Severus? The truth this time.”

Severus sighed and took a long, steadying sip of his tea. He supposed he had to test the limits of this new Dark Lord’s patience at some point and now was as good a time as any. At least he hadn’t had the chance to eat anything yet. “I am just wondering, my - ah - Tom,” he stuttered and pulled up his Occlumency shields so hard so he could stifle the blush threatening to overtake his face. That was the second time he had stuttered this morning. He blamed Hadrian Peverell.

“I am wondering why Lord Peverell has settled on convicting the

Dursleys

,” he said the name with such venom he wouldn’t have been surprised if bloody ‘Tuney felt it all the way in Surrey, “through the justice system. And why he has not just taken matters into his own hands.”

The Dark Lord rose a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Severus, regarding him with an intensity that suggested he was likely contemplating how much he could safely reveal to Severus. He was still a spy after all, and although his loyalty was now unquestionably with the Dark, it hadn’t always been. The Dark Lord was right to be wary until Severus had proven himself. He just wished it wasn’t such a tedious task.
“Hadrian is far more vindictive towards those who harm the people he loves, than he is to those who harm himself; Dumbledore being the exception of course,” the Dark Lord explained and Severus supposed he could understand. Though, why the boy didn’t just leave the Dursleys in the house when he burnt it to the ground was still confusing. It was what Severus would have done, If he wasn’t so much more inclined to making everyone suffer as much as he did.
“Hadrian and I have discussed this and he believes, if he is to be accepted into our new world, he needs to show that he is

fair

and

just

,” the Dark Lord scoffed at the words. “As someone to offset my more radical tendencies and take Dumbledore’s place as a ‘champion of the people’.”

Severus nodded slowly and took another sip of his tea. “I can understand that from a tactical perspective,” he said, deciding that avoiding all proper nouns in relation to the Dark Lord was the safest current path for his sanity and pride. “It does not, however, mean that I agree with his foolishly Gryffindor heart.”

The Dark Lord barked out a laugh and Severus sat stunned for a moment. He had

never

heard anything like that come out of the Dark Lord’s mouth. He had cynical laughs, maniacal laughs, mocking laughs and laughs that sounded more like hissing than anything else. This was a genuine, humour filled laugh and Severus was done. This was too much for him to handle in one day. Where was his old, repetitive, self deprecating life when he needed it?

“I think you’ll find, Severus, that this is something we both agree upon,” the Dark Lord said as Severus ripped himself out of his maudlin musings about his quiet life in the dungeons. “You must have heard that I plan to retrieve your marked brethren from Azkaban in the near future?” he asked and Severus nodded. “I have yet to decide on an exact date, but it will be after the Dursley family has been tried and convicted.” The Dark Lord looked slyly at Severus from behind his teacup as he spoke. “It would not be unusual if two more prisoners made their way into the dungeons than we were expecting, would it Severus?”

“Not at all, Tom,” Severus chuckled darkly and smirked at his Lord and Master. Maybe this whole

change

thing wouldn’t be too bad after all.

(Wednesday 2nd July 1997 : Peverell Manor, Family Dining Room)

Draco was sitting to the left of Hadrian in the family dining room, sharing breakfast with his Lord and the Wolves. Longbottom sat across from him, reading the

Prophet

in what Draco had come to know as routine, and regaling to Hadrian the more interesting news. He had discovered over the past two weeks, that it would be a cold day in hell before Hadrian deigned to read the

Daily Prophet

himself, but was content to allow his right hand to relay any actual news hidden amongst the ‘drivel’ produced by the wizarding paper.

Luna sat to his left, humming lightly as she sipped her morning tea and poked aimlessly at the scrambled eggs the House Elves made especially for her. She was dull this morning and, after spending the better part of the weekend in the strange girls company, he was a little concerned by her current behaviour. Perhaps it had something to do front page article about Harry Potter’s horrid relatives being arrested by the Ministry and the full medical scan Draco knew was re-printed on page seven. It seemed all the Wolves were a little off this morning, with the glaring reminder that their Lord had been through so much and they had been in no position to help him.

They had thus far managed to avoid the topic of how dire Hadrian’s medical status had been before his trip to the Goblins and his miraculous inheritance. Draco wasn’t sure it was a discussion he was welcome at, however, so didn’t dare bring it up in present company. He had, after all, only been positively acquainted with Harry Potter (now Hadrian), for the past two weeks. The other members of this table; Longbottom, the Weasley twins, Barty, Luna, Professor Lupin and Sirius Black. They had all been with Hadrian over the past six years and Draco imagined it felt a whole lot worse for them to know how much Hadrian had been suffering in silence that whole time.

“Ah, Mr Black,” Longbottom said in a way Draco assumed was meant to cheer everybody up, “here you are mentioned on page 15.”

Sirius Black looked up from his rather neglected plate of toast and bacon, directing nervous eyes at the head of the table. Black was surrendering himself into Ministry custody this afternoon and Hadrian had told Draco, Black was petrified of never being let back out again. He had spent 12 years wrongly imprisoned in the worst place wizards could lawfully hold people and would willingly sacrifice his life to living on the run rather than return to Azkaban. Draco also knew, however, that Hadrian was accompanying Black to the Ministry and was likely not leaving until he had his father safely back home and exonerated of his crimes.

“Dear Miss Skeeter has kindly reminded us all that the Ministry is a pile of horseshit and, since Pettigrew has already been detained, a trial to prove your innocence is hardly necessary,” Longbottom continued and Draco snorted.

“Honestly Hadrian,” Draco said, turning to the silent man at the head of the table, “how much are you paying the woman to never say a thing against your views?”

Hadrian smirked in Draco’s direction but kept his eyes on his father further down the table. Draco tried not to wilt at not getting Hadrian’s full attention, because he understood the man’s concern. Black looked to be getting paler as the morning went on and Draco knew, if it was his father, no matter how stupid the man had been of late, he would be worried for the man’s mental state.

“Rita doesn’t need to be paid compensation for merely telling the truth, Draco darling,” Hadrian said, eyes still glued on the bowed head of his father but a hand snuck across the table and squeezed Draco’s wrist in comfort. The skin under Draco’s silk shirt burned and goosebumps shot up his arm at the touch. Oh, how he wished he had rolled up his sleeves before coming to breakfast. “And she knows she’d be eviscerated before she could even

think

of betraying me.”

A chuckle rippled around the table and the Wolves seemed to perk up slightly at their Lord’s humour. He had such an effect on these people it baffled Draco. He wondered if it had something to do with the marks they all carried or if it was just Hadrian’s natural charm and their complete and utter devotion to his well being.

“You’ll be coming home with me, Father, you know I won’t stand for anything else,” Hadrian said earnestly and Black looked back into the eyes of his son. Draco suddenly felt as if he was intruding on a private family moment and leaned back in his seat, but left his wrist settled loosely in Hadrian’s grip.

“I know, kid,” Black replied, giving Hadrian a small smile in return for the comforting words and rising from his seat, clasping Professor Lupin on the shoulder and striding out of the dining room. Lupin soon followed him, followed by the rest of the Wolves until it was just Draco, Luna and Hadrian left at the table. For some reason, it felt completely natural to Draco to be alone with the Vampire and his Donor, like he was completing a bond he wasn’t consciously aware of.

Then Hadrian sighed. A long, tired sigh and squeezed Draco’s wrist once more before releasing him completely and leaning back heavily in his seat.

“Little Moon?” he asked in a weary voice and Draco was momentarily shocked the proud, powerful man was letting Draco see him in this moment of weakness.

Luna walked around Draco and plonked herself inelegantly on Hadrian’s lap, pulling her hair to one side as she did. Hadrian nuzzled her neck, breathing in her scent and Draco watched avidly. Luna was trailing her fingers through the raven mess atop Hadrian’s head in a comforting manner, attempting to relieve some of the stress he must be feeling today. It was so utterly domestic in Hadrian’s supernatural way, Draco thought he should feel uncomfortable watching them. There was nothing but contentedness in his heart, though, as he watched his new friend and his new Lord draw strength and comfort from each other.

“You know I’m alright don’t you, Little Moon?” Hadrian asked as he ran his nose along the line of her neck and nipping at her jaw. Draco felt a heat pooling in his gut at the sight. “You don’t have to fret over me anymore, I never have to go back.”

“I just love you, my Lord,” she replied simply as Hadrian’s tongue licked a long stroke over the crook of her neck. Draco had no idea how she was sitting there so calmly. He wasn’t even being touched by the adonis of a man and Draco could feel his trousers tightening. He was thankful he had the foresight to wear robes this morning, rather than just a shirt and trousers.

Hadrian sniffed suddenly, eyes snapping to Draco over Luna’s shoulder as if he knew exactly what Draco was thinking. As if he could scent the arousal Draco was currently battling with as he imagined himself in Luna’s place. The vampire smirked, eyes more alight than Draco had seen them all morning, and sank his fangs into Luna’s neck. A moan escaped his lips as he drank and Draco watched in awe. This image would be kept safe in his mind forever; Hadrian blissed out and feeding in a way that was clearly pleasurable to both parties, if Luna’s pleased sighs were anything to go by.

Draco was sure if he was in Luna’s position, he would be doing a hell of a lot more than sighing. He wanted to do a hell of a lot more right now and the Vampire hadn’t done more than look at him. Draco was sure Hadrian knew exactly what he was doing to him. The slight flaring of his nostrils indicating Hadrian was most definitely scenting him in some way. He wondered why Hadrian was willing to let Draco see him like this and prayed to Merlin or whatever gods were listening that his theory on the matter was correct.

(Peverell Manor, Family Wing)

Draco was being led by the hand down a long corridor on the third floor. He had never been this far up in the Manor, this level usually warded against non-family members, and was admiring the view of the grounds the added altitude provided. Hadrian was leading him past door after door, heading for the end of the hall and where he assumed the Lords suite would be. He was trying desperately not to jump to conclusions lest he be disappointed when Hadrian didn’t lead him straight into his private quarters.  
The moan that escaped Hadrian while feeding from Luna was echoing around Draco’s head like a number one hit. He didn’t think he’d ever forget that sound and knew it would be fuel for his lonely nights for a

very

long time.

They stopped at the second door from the end of the hall, on the right hand side, and waited. Hadrian pointed to the furthest door on the right, “that there is mine,” he said and Draco did

not

slump in disappointment and frustration that it was not their destination. He pointed to the door furthest on the left and said; “that one there is Tom’s. Best to stay away from it unless you’re looking from him and you

know

he’s there.” Draco paled a little and nodded. He wasn’t going to be knocking on the Dark Lord’s bedroom door anytime soon, that’s for sure. Hadrian pointed to the door opposite them on the left. “That one there’s Luna’s,” he said with a smile, then turned to the door they had stopped in front of.

“This one here,” Hadrian said, reaching a hand out to turn the doorknob, “this one here is yours.”

Draco’s eyes widened as he beheld the suite before him. “If you want it, of course,” Hadrian added like Draco would be anything but ecstatic about receiving rooms in Hadrian Peverell’s Family Wing, not matter what they looked like. And oh, weren’t they just the most exquisite rooms Draco had ever seen.

Decorated in light blues and royal blues and silvers, the parlour is light and open and filled with luxury. A fireplace adorns the left hand wall, surrounded by plush looking armchairs and a low cedar coffee table. Bookshelves line the opposite walls, only breaking up to make room for a door, open and leading to the most comfortable bedroom Draco could imagine. The fluffy white carpet adorning the floor looks comfortable enough to sleep on, but the humongous king sized four poster bed, draped with royal blue curtains and covered in silver, black and light blue pillows, looks like something out of a dream. Two doors lead off the bedroom to what Draco can assume are the bathroom and wardrobe and floor to ceiling windows grant the most beautiful view of a lake he hadn’t noticed in the grounds before. Draco could see himself living here quite happily and cannot help but marvel at Hadrian’s decorating abilities.

“I adore it Hadrian,” he said, wide eyed and smiling like controlling his emotions wasn’t bred into his very bones. “How did you know blue was my favourite colour?”

Hadrian chuckled and took Draco’s hand in his once more, smiling back at the joy evident on Draco’s face. “I’ve noticed you prefer blue when you’re not wearing Slytherin colours,” he said with a smirk. “It brings out your eyes.” Draco flushed in what he hoped was an attractive way, that did not even remotely resemble a Weasley, and stared in awe at Hadrian. This man was magnificent and Draco had completely fallen for him.

“And I brought your Mother over yesterday to make sure it was going to be to your liking,” Hadrian added and Draco choked out a laugh. Yes, Hadrian Peverell was exactly what Draco wanted and he was going to do anything he could to secure him.

“Hadrian,” he said reverently and pulled himself forwards with their conjoined hands. Just inches away from Hadrian now, Draco was eye-level with the man’s chin. Hadrian was huge, dwarfing Draco’s not overly petite size with no trouble at all. He tilted his head back, looking into emerald green eyes he was so intimately familiar with. Draco pulled up on his toes and brushed his lips against the man’s smooth, warm cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered against flushed skin before he stepped back.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Thursday 3rd July 1997 : British Ministry of Magic, Courtroom 10)

“Do you consent to the use of Veritaserum?” Madame Amelia Bones asked and Sirius looked up at her from his chained position before the Wizengamot. He was nervous as all hell to be doing this. While he knew Veritaserum was the best and most efficient way to get him free again, that it didn’t stop the ingrained fear from almost letting him refuse. Purebloods were always nervous around the innocent looking truth serum and Sirius thought they had a right to be. Old families had a lot of secrets after all, and one wrong question under the influence of the drug like potion could break hundreds of years of tradition and secrets.

Sirius knew that Hadrian had carefully looked over and regulated the questions Madame Bones would be asking him. He could see his son and Lord sitting relaxed and calm in the viewing stands, knew he was on high alert and wouldn’t let anything other than the pre-approved questions be asked, but he couldn’t help the shake that entered his voice as he replied. “Yes,” he said, “I, Sirius Orion Black, consent to the use of Veritaserum in this court.”

Madame Bones, who had viciously declared she, and she alone, would preside over these court proceedings with threat of a flaying for anyone who dared go against her, signalled for the potion to be administered to her accused. According to Hadrian, the Madame had turned the entire Ministerial department into a blubbering, whimpering mess when one of them had suggested that the Minister himself should be tasked with finding out the truth about ‘notorious mass murderer Sirius Black’. Apparently good old Amelia blamed Fudge for the mess that was Sirius’ false imprisonment and the subsequent disaster that was the continued life and freedom of Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius accepted the three drops of clear potion onto his tongue and waited nervously for the potion to take effect. Despite the fact that he knew his Mark would protect all his son’s secrets, he couldn’t help sweating as the cloud of disorientation filled his mind. He was still in control of himself and this thoughts and knew that if he needed, he could fight his way out of this situation. It was when Madame Bones asked her first question, however, that he could feel the compulsion to say nothing but the absolute truth. “What is your name?” she asked and Sirius stared at her, eyes glazed and expression slack. The potion taking effect.

“Sirius Orion Black.” he replied in a voice he could not recognise as completely his own. It was flat and emotionless and nothing but the stone cold truth. Exactly what Veritaserum was meant to do. At least they hadn’t given him a faulty dose. Hadrian would have spilled blood if they had.

“What is your date of birth?” she continued and Sirius wondered absently what genius thought up the opening questions. It would have been so easy to fake as long as you knew what the effects of the truth potion looked like.

“November 3rd, 1959,” he answered anyway in that same emotionless voice.

“The serum is working,” Madame Bones said and picked up a sheet of parchment from the desk beside her. “We will now begin with the questioning.” 
Sirius looked over the array of seats behind Madame Bones at the Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot. None looked particularly thrilled to be there and Sirius supposed he could understand. There was not a lot of charm to be found in these dank court rooms so deep beneath Muggle London. Lucius was seated directly to the left of Madame Bones, his rightful place as the new Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and gave Sirius a nearly undetectable nod. It meant he was confident they had the Lords and Ladies of this court on their side and all would end well after this farce of a trial. Despite himself, and the unquestioned fact that Lucius Malfoy was a stupid git, Sirius was reassured.
“Did you, betray the secret of the Potter’s location to Lord Voldemort in October 1981?” Madame Bones asked and Sirius was glad she was starting with the easy ones. Hadrian hadn’t told him what the questions would be, he didn’t want Sirius’ answers to look rehearsed, but he knew the majority would only require a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer. For that, his nervous ass was thankful. It meant it would be over quicker.

“No,” he replied.

“Are you, or have you ever been a Death Eater?” she asked and he wanted to laugh at the expressions on the Wizengamot members faces. Apparently they thought it was an obvious question.

“No,” he replied. It was obvious, just not in the way they were expecting. Sirius was going to watch this later in a pensive just to savour the purpling of Fudge’s face at his answer.

There was murmuring in the stands now as the power of Wizarding Britain had their views slowly, but unquestionably changed. They had all believed the worst of him and he would be glad to unleash Hadrian and Tom on them and watch their world burn.

“Did you cast the curse that killed twelve muggles and allegedly destroyed Peter Pettigrew?” Madame Bones asked and Fudge perked up again, probably hoping that he was just half the criminal they thought he was.

“No,” Sirius replied and oh, how he wished he could laugh, but the stupid potion wouldn’t have any of that and it might give the court reason to question his sanity.

“Do you know who did?” Madame Bones asked, quill posed to start taking notes of the things he revealed, in preparation for the rat’s trial Hadrian had said was just after his.

“Yes,” he said, because that was all he needed to. Madame Bones would ask the right questions to get the answers she needed.

“Who was the secret keeper for the Potter’s location at Godric’s Hollow?” she asked and Sirius prepared himself for the reactions of the stands.

“Peter Pettigrew,” he said and the room exploded. Over in the viewing stands, Sirius could see Hadrian smirking slightly at the uproar occurring around him. People were standing from their seats, shouting at the members of the Wizengamot, at Fudge, at Dumbledore sitting off to the side in the witness area. Sirius had been condemned as a murderer and a betrayer of the most horrible kind for 15 years and now it was

proven

that they were wrong. That he had done nothing at all and they’d thrown him into the pit and forgotten him.

“Tell me, Mr Black, what happened on October 31st and November 1st 1981?” Madame Bones asked, looking grave and determined. Hadrian had told Sirius she’d been adamant that she get to the bottom of this case as quickly and thoroughly as possible. She was appalled by the actions of her predecessors and the injustice against Sirius, Harry and the memory of James and Lily Potter. Sirius was finally getting his story out there and he wasn’t going to leave even a single detail out. The

right

people were going to face justice for their crimes.

“I went to Godric’s Hollow to see baby Harry, I was his godfather after all, and when I got there the house was in ruins. I rushed in to see if there were any survivors, found James dead by the stairs and Lily dead up in Harry’s room. Harry was still alive, though, so I picked him up and carried him outside so I could get him to St Mungo’s. He had just survived an attack from who I could only assume was Voldemort and he had a bleeding cut on his forehead I wanted checked out right away. I was distraught about James and Lily but Voldemort had gotten to them, there was nothing to be done for them and Harry was my priority.”

The Wizengamot looked like they were on the edge of their seats and Sirius realised that this might be the first time anyone even remotely close to the Potters had actually talked about that night. Merlin knows Dumbledore had never given anyone any substantial information on the matter. It was part of why Harry was heralded as so much of a hero. No one knew what happened that night so Harry must have done something extraordinary and shrouded in mystery and wonder. They were all such idiots.

“Then,” he continued. “Hagrid and Dumbledore showed up. They tried to get me to give them Harry to take to Hogwarts without me, but I had just lost everything and I didn’t want to give up my godson as well. I was hit with a spell, I think it was the body bind curse, and Hagrid took Harry out of my arms. I was staring at Dumbledore and suddenly I felt the intense need to find Peter Pettigrew and kill him for what he had done to James, Lily and little Harry.”

Sirius knew exactly how that sounded and he would have grinned, wide and wolfish, if the Veritaserum did not have control over his face. He had just openly accused Albus bloody Dumbledore of kidnapping and suspected use of the Imperious curse to commit a murder. Sirius was definitely going to be saving this memory.

“It took me all night and the next morning to track down Peter Pettigrew but when I got there he was expecting me. He didn’t draw his wand but started shouting at me, yelling that I’d betrayed James and Lily and that it was my fault they were dead. He had his hands behind his back so I didn’t notice his wand until it was too late. He cast a blasting curse and it managed to hit a muggle gas line. The two buildings next to us blew up, killing the muggles on the street and inside. I was so distracted by the blast I lost track of Peter until I heard him cry out. He had chopped off his finger and I watched as he transformed into his animagus form, a brown common rat, and run into the sewers. The next thing I knew there were Aurors all around me. I had been tricked by one of my best friends and it was all so ridiculous, all I could do was laugh. They took me straight to Azkaban and that was all I knew for the next 12 years.”

And there it was. He was innocent. He was innocent and they had condemned him and defamed him and believed the absolute worst of him with no proof at all. It had all been entirely circumstantial evidence, that cold November morning. They had seen the fire and the finger and chucked him in a hole so they didn’t have to think about it anymore. Didn’t have to think about

him

anymore.

There were so many things Sirius wished to say to these Lords and Ladies that looked down on him. That preached blood purity or fairness or integrity of the law and ignored all that for the ease of locking away the problem before they understood. He wanted to let them know that his Lord was coming for them. That that world after Hadrian Peverell was done with it would not tolerate their self-serving, manipulative ways. That they would all get a taste of what he felt for 12 years while no one was looking out for him. When he was cold and alone and completely at the mercy of this wretched, corrupted government.

People were yelling all around him. The viewing stands in an uproar, the Wizengamot members white faced and frozen to their seats. It was dramatic, chaotic and everything that Sirius thrived in so he risked a glance at Hadrian. Hadrian winked and Sirius turned back to Madame Bones banging her gavel in an attempt to calm the masses.

“I have one more question for you Mr. Black,” Madame Bones said, startling and quieting the crowd in an instant. “Who was the caster of the Fidelius Charm meant to protect the Potter family in 1981?”

Sirius would have cackled if he could. This question was perfect and Hadrian was going to be so happy. “Albus Dumbledore,” he said, his voice still the potion induced monotonous drawl. Madame Bones nodded her head in thanks, muttered an ‘I figured as much’ and gestured for the antidote to be administered.

The Wizengamot filled into a back room to decide his fate. Sirius was still sitting, chained to the chair in the centre of the room, but a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had finally done it. Finally told the truth to someone who could

do

something about his shit situation and he was going to get results. Hadrian had said so. Lucius Malfoy had confirmed it. The Wizengamot was going to come back inside and declare him a free man. There was no other possible outcome.

Minutes passed and the Wizengamot finally trooped back into the courtroom. The muttering of the viewing section ceased as everyone turned their attention back to Madame Amelia Bones. She banged her gavel officially and stared straight into Sirius’ eyes.

“This court has come to a decision,” she said, her voice carrying through the chamber as easy as water. “We hereby find Sirius Orion Black innocent of all charges laid against him. He will be awarded a sum of 1000 galleons for each year unjustly imprisoned on the island of Azkaban and any and all medical bills to treat maladies caused by the aforementioned incarceration will be covered by this administration.” Madame Bones banged her gavel one last time and leaned forward as she spoke. “Mr. Black, this Ministry has done a great disservice to you and we apologise. May you enjoy the remainder of your life as a free man.”

The chains securing Sirius to the chair fell away with a clang as the viewing section exploded with noise once again. Sirius stood on shaky legs and turned towards his son and Lord and grinned. Hadrian sat comfortably within the crowd, the picture of pureblood grace and comportment, blank mask tinted with smugness around the edges. Sirius looked at his son and for the first time in 15 years, he was free.

(Thursday 3rd July 1997 : British Ministry of Magic, Level 10)

Winding his way through the crowds of people slowly making their way out of the Courtroom, Hadrian smirked to himself. Everything was going according to plan and he was very much enjoying himself.  
Reaching his still shocked father’s side, Hadrian cleared his throat politely, readying himself for a dramatic display of pureblood formality. He made note of the

great

Albus Dumbledore hovering in their vicinity. That was good. He wanted the old man to see this, this display of solidarity between Blacks. It might just make the man sweat a bit and that thought made Hadrian want to grin.

“Mr. Black,” Hadrian said and stifled a snort at his father jumping a foot into the air at his surprise. He had been dazedly staring at Hadrian’s previously vacated seat. No doubt reeling over the fact he was free for the first time in sixteen years. Sirius focused on Hadrian, a wide grin spreading across his face at the sight of his son, and stood straighter before him.

“My Lord,” he said, bowing shortly to Hadrian, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” They had practiced this, Hadrian and Sirius. Remus had thought it was the most hilarious thing. But, to pretend you had never met a person who was so closely linked to you, like Hadrian and Sirius were, was worth a bit of practice in the privacy of Peverell Manor.

“If you would follow me, I believe there are some things we need to speak of,” Hadrian replied with a curt nod of his head. They had to remain unfamiliar from each other after all.

As he led Sirius out of the courtroom, Hadrian made sure to keep Dumbledore in his sights. The man was following them at a distance far enough that, had Hadrian not been paying attention, would have been difficult to notice, but close enough that any eavesdropping charms would be easily placed and heard. They stopped in an alcove just off the main hall of Level 10, Dumbledore not so discreetly standing off to the side. Hadrian honestly wondered how the man had lasted this long without people catching on to him. He was startlingly obvious with his spying.

Hadrian took a moment to carefully observe the Lords and Ladies milling around the Hall. Looking for all the world like a Lord wary of being overheard by his meddling, gossiping peers. It would make Dumbledore all the more suspicious and they wanted him to over hear this. Wanted him to put his interest where

they

wanted him to put it. Manipulating the manipulator in a way Hadrian was sure only Blacks could do.

He turned to his father and looked him over. Sirius was looking considerably better than Hadrian had ever seen him. It was like a weight Hadrian didn’t even know existed had been lifted from his father’s shoulders and now he could stand tall again. He was finally free after so many years of pain and suffering, running and hiding. Peter Pettigrew would be sentenced by the end of the day and Sirius Black would once again become a positive name within Wizarding society.

Hadrian cast the weakest privacy spell he could manage around the pair and could see Dumbledore’s eyes glinting as he ripped it down without much thought. This was another strike against the man. He would have no idea how powerful Hadrian actually was when he let him freely walk into his domain at Hogwarts and that would allow him a lot more leeway than he would usually get. Especially when he was sorted into Slytherin.

“What is this about, Lord Black?” Sirius asked, breaking Hadrian’s observations of the Headmaster.

“I understand,” Hadrian started, his back straight, face blanked and voice strong like a proper pureblood Lord should do, “that you were to Godfather of my late Heir, Harry Potter?” Hadrian had to congratulate his father on his acting. The wince he produced at the mention of his very

not

dead godson was positively marvellous. Anyone who knew Sirius would think he was genuinely devastated about Harry’s death.

“Yes,” Sirius all but whispered.

“I would like to formally offer you my condolences on the loss of your godson, Mr Black,” Hadrian said bowing his head in respect to the elder wizards loss. “I would also like to officially welcome you back into the Black Family.” Sirius straightened at this, his eyes gleaming with something Dumbledore would recognise as hope.

“I am a firm believer in the unity and honour of Family and, as Black’s, we all must stick together. I know I inherited this title in a strange and round-a-bout way, but I intend to restore the Ancient and Noble House of Black to its former position at the height of British Wizarding society and gaining justice for the heinous crimes committed against my Heir will help me on the way to this goal.”

Sirius’ face was openly displaying his emotions now. Pure hope and desire for justice to his godson was written all over his face like the worst of Gryffindors. Dumbledore was eating out of his hands and Hadrian couldn’t have been more proud to call this man his father. There was a reason he was so good at manipulating people after all, he had learned from the best.

“They will pay for what they did to him?” Sirius asked, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions.

“I promise you now, Mr Black,” Hadrian replied, “everyone who dared lay a hand on your godson will feel the full weight of my titles rain down upon them. Staring with the muggles.” 
The smirk that graced his father’s face was positively feral and Hadrian couldn’t help but return it. It grew in strength as he noticed Albus Dumbledore rushing through the Hall in the direction of the lifts, no doubt to warn his pets about the incoming demise of the Dursley Family.

(Friday 4th July 1997 : Malfoy Manor, Sunroom)

“My lord, how wonderful it is to see you again,” Narcissa said as she came forward to greet Hadrian. He pressed a light kiss on her knuckles and she brought him forward to kiss both his cheeks. He would never admit it, but he blushed a little at the affection in her actions. He was unused to the motherly love she had graced him with since she found out his position as her Head of House and his interest in her Draco.

“It is wonderful to see you too, Narcissa,” he replied with a warm smile at the Malfoy matriarch. “Though I have told you to call me Hadrian.”

“Yes, my dear, you have,” she said with all the poise and grace of a quintessentially pureblood aristocrat, “But I must see to the formalities like the worst of us.” Hadrian chuckled, held out his arm to lead her out of the receiving room and into the Manor beyond.

This was the second time Hadrian had ventured to Malfoy Manor and he was still in awe of its beauty. Of course a family who prided themselves on their paleness was sure to have a veritable castle of white stone to show off to the world. The wide, open windows let the sun illuminate the interior of the Manor and Hadrian felt as if his very touch would tarnish the pristine nature of the Malfoy home.

The sunroom was much like his own in Peverell Manor; glass roof and exterior walls open to the sprawling grounds, vines and various plants of all kinds surrounding the wrought iron tea tables secured throughout the greenery. It was a magnificent room that Hadrian could imagine Narcissa spending a great deal of time in. She fit perfectly into the scene, like a queen in her throne room.

He was not here to admire the Manor, however, he was here for business.

“I hope you understand, Narcissa,” he began when they both seated themselves and an elf had brought them tea, “I would much prefer to discuss the matter of the Weasley boys in your family’s care with you than I would with your dear husband.”

There was no shock in her expression as she replied. She was no stranger to Lucius Malfoy’s less than savoury personality. “Of course, Hadrian dear, I understand Lucius made a bit of a questionable first impression and has continued to address you with some form of disrespect since then.” The look on her face told Hadrian that his dear Aunt was less than pleased with her husband’s actions. No doubt she was worried about the Malfoy Lord ruining her Draco’s prospects with such a powerful and influential man as Hadrian.

“It is through no fault of your own, of course, and I promise both you and Draco will not be affected negatively by his lack of manners when we interact,” Hadrian said with a slight smile. “You both will always be safe within the House of Black.”

Narcissa’s smile was the picture of graceful Lady and Hadrian had to admire her strength. There was no way he would be able to keep control over his demeanour in the way Lady Malfoy did.

“I am wondering how the Weasley boys are adjusting?” he asked. He had thought for a long while before sending Bill and Charlie to the Malfoy’s. While he knew the blood feud would cause problems on both sides, he genuinely believed it would benefit the Weasley’s, and would surely benefit him and his wolves when their month was over.

Narcissa’s lips pursed slightly before answering and Hadrian could tell something had gone wrong already. He hoped they wouldn’t make him regret his decision. “There has been a slight issue regarding keeping my husband in the same room as dear William and Charles,” she said, diplomatic as ever. “They have been present at all family dinners since they arrived, as per your request. However, Lucius has made it known he would rather eat alone in his office and sleep in the guest room than be civil to two quite charming young men.”

Hadrian suppressed a sigh. Of course Lucius was being difficult. The stupid blonde prat had to get in his way with everything and, to make matters worse, he had upset Narcissa enough for her to kick him out of their rooms. Hadrian was a lover of the idea of family. Growing up as he did, he of course wanted people to love and take care of him more than anything. Narcissa hadn’t been in his life for very long, but with his developing bond with Draco and the open and loving way the Lady had accepted Hadrian, there was no way he was standing for her getting upset.

“I will talk to him,” he said, resigned to another argument with the tempestuous blonde. “Are the Weasley’s adjusting well otherwise?”

Narcissa smiled again, clearly she had warmed to the two oldest Weasleys. Hadrian wondered what Molly Weasley would say. “They have adjusted well, I believe. It seems they have studied our customs independently of their mother and have been quite open with asking me questions about the policies the Malfoy Family in particular find the most appealing. It would be more helpful if Lucius could join in the discussion, however. I’m afraid I only know so much about the political side of things.”

Hadrian nodded his head in agreement. He would definitely be talking to Lucius and probably bringing Tom along with him, just for the hell of it. They could maybe make a day out of it; teaching Lucius to behave for once. No doubt Severus would be interested too. 
“What is there opinion of Dark Magic?” he asked and the Lady Malfoy’s eyes lit up in a most unexpected way. 
“Oh Hadrian dear,” she said excitedly, “they absolutely agree with the Dark’s opinions on the matter. Apparently both their jobs require a great deal of grey and dark spells to be successful and they have been practicing in secret for years.”

Hadrian was mildly surprised by this fact. He could understand that reasoning but he honestly thought they would have been too blinded by the Headmaster and their mother’s influence. “They would oppose their mother so?” he asked by way of conformation.

“Apparently there’s no love lost between all five older Weasley boys and their mother and there hasn’t been for a great many years.” Narcissa looked positively giddy at this and Hadrian had to wonder how deep her dislike for Molly Weasley really ran. The Lady Malfoy could become a great asset in his plans if she was willing. 
Hadrian sat back in his seat, positively smug at this new information. “I must thank you Lady Malfoy, it seems this all just got a lot easier.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Thursday 19th June 1997 : Azkaban Prison, Cell 13)

Bellatrix Lestrange had felt it when her Lord returned, the blinding pain in her left forearm bringing her to a sense of alertness she had lacked since they locked her on this Merlin forsaken island. Her friends and family detained around her had felt it too, the spiking rush of magic reconnecting them with the man they’d sworn their lives and souls to.

That had been a very long time ago.

For the first few months, the Death Eaters on the high security level of Azkaban prison had rejoiced. Their Lord was alive and he would be coming for them. They had the utmost faith in their Master, knew he would reward their loyalty and obedience by breaking them out of this dreadful place. Time passed, however, and they began to lose that unwavering hope.

Bellatrix knew her Lord very well, more so than any other Death Eater encaged around her, and she knew he had a plan. He had disappeared from the world that horrible Samhain night and if he had now returned, there was a huge possibility that he was waiting in the shadows for the right time to emerge. Gaining allies and slithering his way into every aspect of British society. Waiting for the right time to take out all his enemies in one fell swoop. It was what she would do after all.

To many, Bellatrix was considered the very definition of insane, the embodiment of the Black Family Madness. It was far from the truth, however. Having been taught Occlumency from a very young age, Bellatrix was well versed in keeping her mind clear of negative influences and detrimental thoughts.

Two days after the attack that left her Lord missing, Bellatrix had been cornered by the old goat with her darling husband, brother-in-law and poor, sweet Barty, interrogating the Longbottoms about the whereabouts of their Lord. The Longbottoms were considered closest to the Potters and, after the Dark Lord’s downfall, the elite had wanted answers. The four of them had used no more than one

Crucio

per person inside that wretchedly Light manor, yet they were thrown in Azkaban for driving Alice and Frank Longbottom insane.

Bellatrix knew there was something more going on, some wider plan that needed the public to believe her insane and completely overcome by Dark Magic. She assumed Dumbledore wanted to use her as an example of how Dark Magic corrupts good people and turns them evil. The manipulative bastard always did hate that she graduated top of her class at Hogwarts. That she gained a Mastery in both Healing and Defence before her untimely incarceration. She knew she was one of the many Lords and Ladies eligible to partition for custody of her cousin and fellow Black, Harry James Potter.

Before his marvellous and frankly ingenious escape from the prison, Bellatrix had become rather fond of her wayward cousin Sirius Black. He had such deliciously horrible things to say about Albus Dumbledore and his Order. And, having worked intimately with the organisation itself, Sirius had a lot more insight into their wicked plans than many Death Eaters could hope to find. He would also be considerably more personal in his vengeance and that thought always made Bellatrix smile.

Sirius had been adamant that Dumbledore not only allowed but encouraged his continued stay in Azkaban as a way to keep control over Sirius’ highly influential and magically powerful godson. He knew that, had Sirius been around to raise the orphaned child, Harry Potter would have entered Dumbledore’s domain independent of the Headmaster’s views and entirely out of the old man’s sphere of influence. Dumbledore, of course, could not have this and thus, left Bellatrix in the cell across from her estranged cousin for the better part of 12 years.

Magic soared through her suddenly and Bellatrix crumpled to her knees under the weight of it. She could only think of one person’s magic with this kind of weight, and that was her Lord. The kind of magic dripping with so much delicious darkness that it made you want to bow, submit, follow. Looking inward at the core of her magic however, Bellatrix found that it was not, in fact, the link to her Lord that she was feeling. It was something much deeper in her core, something she hadn’t felt activated in a great many years, and certainly never as powerful as this. Her link to the Black Family Magic and the Lord Black was open and active once again.

Thoughts raced through her head in rapid succession. There was a new Lord Black? According to her count, after the death of her dear cousin Regulus, Sirius was the only male of the main Family line eligible to claim the Lordship. His extended stay in Azkaban, innocent or not, negated that claim however, and Bellatrix couldn’t help but wonder who this new Lord was. She hoped dearly that is wasn’t Cissy’s boy. As much as she hoped her baby sister had raised her child with the ruthlessness of a true Black woman, she knew that the child would not be untainted by Lucius Malfoy’s uncultured influence.

Bellatrix had always wondered what her sister saw in the pompous blonde. He was rash and held a sense of entitlement that was truly never earned. Old Abraxas had been absent through much of the young Lord’s early life, too caught up in the power games led by their Lord and Master to pay attention to his heir. Lucius’ mother had been a soft albeit beautiful woman who spoiled her son and left him feeling as though he deserved the world thrown at his feet. If the new Black Lord was the youngest Malfoy, Bellatrix dearly hoped Lucius had nothing to do with the estate. He would besmirch the Black name further, and never be able to raise it from the pit of destitute it had fallen in the past decades.

Whoever their new Lord was, Bellatrix knew he was beyond powerful. The magic she had felt at his acceptance of the title was enormous. She prayed to whatever gods would listen that Lord Black was on her Lord Voldemort’s side. She knew, working together, the two would take the world by storm.

(Friday 4th July 1997: Peverell Manor, Formal Dining Room)

Hadrian sat at the head of a long table in Peverell Manor, an amused smirk playing across his lips at the sight before him. Thirteen of the Elite Death Eaters were seated, heads bowed and shoulders hunched at the overbearing magical presence in the room. His magical presence. They were completely cowed by a mere fraction of his might and he was loving every second of it.

Narcissa Malfoy sat to his left, head high, surrounded by an aura of calm, in complete contrast to the males around her. Hadrian had found many chances to be in the woman’s company in the past weeks, and found she was the most formidable woman he’d ever met. He knew now where his mate got his spine of steel. It certainly wasn’t from his father.

Lucius Malfoy sat next to his wife, resolutely staring at the black marble table. He had been thoroughly dressed down by both Hadrian and Tom about his lack of involvement in the two oldest Weasleys’ lessons. Hadrian had hissed and spat and reminded Lucius that the only reason he was still allowed to roam free in Wizarding Britain was because Hadrian really couldn’t lock up his mate’s father. Despite his obvious flaws, Draco loved his father and Hadrian would never do something to upset his blonde.

The entire Elite was well aware of Lucius’ recent and continued failures, as the only reason Narcissa was present at this meeting was to control her husband. The look on Lucius’ face when Tom had told him he needed his wife present at all times, like a trainer with a misbehaving dog, would fill Hadrian with glee for months, he was sure.

A smug looking Severus sat on Hadrian’s right. He had always been one to lord his superior knowledge over other people. He was no doubt very pleased knowing all about and feeling comfortable around Hadrian while the other Death Eaters squirmed.

Hadrian winked as his eyes met Barty’s. The young ex-Death Eater was here as a cautionary measure for Hadrian. As much as his wolves trusted that their Lord could handle himself, they were protective of him and insisted he have one of them present at all Death Eater meetings. Hadrian was sure Tom was only humouring the lot of them. He knew what Hadrian was capable of after all. If one of his followers started something with the young Vampire, Hadrian was sure Tom would let him deal with them on his own. He could be vindictive when he wanted to, after all.

The lower end of the table seated Crabbe and Goyle senior, Alexander Avery, Perseus Parkinson, Benjamin and Theaddus Nott, Walden Macnair, Corban Yaxley and the Carrow twins. Their heads were bowed, never once looking in Hadrian’s direction, no doubt remembering the brutal condition Avery was left in at the last Death Eater meeting by one of Lord Thanatos’ subordinates. They had yet to see the extent of his power but his presence alone was enough to make them hesitant to act out.

As much as Hadrian refused to be the same Dark Lord as Tom, lording his power over his followers to incite fear and obedience through that fear, he did so enjoy the utter terror he inspired in these grown men. They knew without a doubt that he, a mere sixteen year old, was more powerful and therefore

better

than everyone else in this room. The thought made Hadrian smile, his fangs gleaming in the light of the crystal chandelier overhead, sending shivers along the table.

A large tea set was placed innocuously in the centre of the table, sitting untouched before the frightened wizards. Hadrian waved a hand lazily levitating 15 china teacups to sit in front of the startled group. “Tea?” he asked broadly, as the teapot, steeped to Hadrian’s liking, floated over to Narcissa. The witch smiled slightly at the offer and graciously nodded her head. The teapot made its way steadily over to all the Death Eaters, filling their cups with the steaming liquid, never once spilling a drop.

Hadrian smirked at the looks of pure disbelief on the Death Eater’s faces. Wandless magic, while incredibly easy for Hadrian, was not something normal wizards ever thought to achieve. Tom had worked incredibly hard for his wandless capabilities and even he couldn’t use it as carelessly as Hadrian. There was no doubt the Death Eaters had been attempting to figure out why Hadrian was awarded such power within the Dark that Lord Voldemort allowed him to sit beside him and share his rule. Hadrian would be using this meeting to, hopefully, make them understand just exactly

what

he was. How much power ran through his veins. He wasn’t just some upstart vampire nobody that came out of nowhere. He had spent years bringing all he could to this cause and he wasn’t about to be disrespected.

Of course, Tom, the dramatic bastard that he was, had to go and ruin Hadrian’s fun, entering the room with a bang of the double doors that sent Hadrian back to his many lessons in Professor Snape’s dungeons. His magic swirling oppressively around him and scaring the Death Eaters twice as much as Hadrian had been. Show off.

Lord Voldemort strode silently across the room, gazing impassively at the now standing Death Eaters without an inch of emotion on his aristocratic face. Tom had decided, once Hadrian officially joined his ranks, that his inner circle would be privy to his real face. As much as his snake-face glamour instilled genuine terror into the hearts of any sane man, it was better for his closest followers to have a more active role in the decision making aspect of his plans. That would never happen if his Death Eaters were too terrified to speak.

Hadrian rolled his eyes at the smirk Tom sent his way. He knew that the Death Eaters would always fear Lord Voldemort more than anyone else, knew how disgruntled it made Hadrian when he was emulating the older man and the reactions were never the same. There was just something about Tom that, even when his magic was masked, made you stop and appreciate the sheer power that

made

him. Hadrian was constantly in awe of the man and his power was nearing on par with Tom’s, he could only imagine what the ‘normal’ wizards felt like.

As Tom sat beside him at the table without so much as a word, the shoulders of the whole table seemed to relax. Lord Voldemort always made sure to let his people know early on when he was in a horrible mood, so toady mustn’t be one of those days. Tom cleared his throat, completely unnecessarily Hadrian assumed, and all eyes snapped directly to him.

“My friends,” he said in his usual cool, collected voice, the underlying hiss of his glamoured persona nowhere to be heard at present. “The time has come for us to retrieve our brothers and sisters from the dark depths of Azkaban.”

Hadrian had to hold back his snort at the phrasing. Merlin Tom could be so dramatic, it was exhausting sometimes. They had been planning this for weeks, however, and Tom was excited. Hadrian thought he better just let the man have his fun.

The Death Eaters stirred amongst themselves for a moment, all but Barty clearly shocked by the announcement. The Dark Lord had, after all, been back for a long time now and made no move to pronounce himself returned on a wider scale. They had been working in the shadows for so long, the Death Eaters likely assumed a move like this would blow all their hard work away. How wrong they were. After all, the last time they attempted to win this war, they didn’t have Hadrian on their side.

“The Lord Thanatos and I have spent these past months devising a way to release our captured brethren in such a way that Dumbledore and the Ministry will be none the wiser of our movements.” Tom was just so pretentious sometimes, using words like brethren like he’s some kind of cult leader out to convert the entire world with promises of

family

and

togetherness

. Hadrian was a much better leader to his Pack. He knew how not to have his head up his own ass after all.

“Tomorrow evening,” Tom continued, eyes roving over the enraptured wizards before him, “we will be entering Azkaban Prison and will leave with our ten most trusted brothers and sisters. They will be transported to one of Lord Thanatos’ enumerable properties where they will endeavour to recover from their unfortunate stay with the Dementors.”

Hadrian really just wanted to roll his eyes at this point.

He

could have finished his explanation of the plan already but Tom just had to embellish when he was in Dark Lord mode. It was a fault he had that Hadrian was definitely going to bring up the next time they were alone.

Tom seemed to have sensed Hadrian’s growing impatience with the dramatics, gestured to Lord Thanatos at his side and handed the explanation over to him. Hadrian smiled, wide and wicked, all fangs and glinting emerald eyes, and began.

(Saturday 5th July 1997 : Azkaban Prison)

Dark gates loomed above twenty five black clad figures with all the ominous darkness of the gates of hell. It was fitting, Lord Thanatos thought, as Azkaban Prison was the closest thing the Wizarding World could get to Hell without Death dragging them down there himself.

He stood with Lord Voldemort at the rear of the group as three Dementors flew across the dark sky to greet them, the towering prism behind them blocking out what was left of the rapidly failing sunlight. In unison, two bright shimmering animals erupted from the wands of Lords Thanatos and Voldemort. If the Death Eaters were at all surprised by the Wolf and the Basilisk that circled and protected them from the approaching Dementor’s chill, they had the decency to stay quiet.

Lord Thanatos stepped forward as the Dementors descended on them, bowing his head in greeting to the cloaked figures. ~My thanks,~ he spoke to the one in the centre, in a language known by very few in history and all with the name Peverell, ~for your cooperation in this Lord Veres.~ He stifled a smirk at the looks of pure horror and incredulousness directed towards him, visible even under the Death Eater masks and hoods. It was always good to surprise people, even those you consider allies.

~I have set up a portkey to your new residence,~ he handed over a long, coiled rope that would transport the Dementors of Azkaban to their new home. The rotting, black arm that emerged from under the Dementor’s cloak sent shivers through the Death Eaters rank despite the glowing guardians circling them.

~We thank you, my Lord,~ Lord Veres replied in the same rasping, guttural language as Thanatos, ignoring the other wizards present in favour of the head of the Peverell family. Dementors, after all, owed their creation to the Peverell necromancers of old and were happy to be offered a way out of the Wizard Ministry’s control. For as much as wizards disliked and feared the Dementors, Dementors held no kind feelings for the men who would treat them as nothing more than mindless beasts. ~We will depart within the hour.~

Lord Thanatos smiled as the Dementors turned and flew back to the prison. The glowing white wolf retreated to stand by his creator’s side as the hooded man turned to address the Death Eaters. “The Dementors will be gone within the hour,” Lord Thanatos said, “and we shall be gone by then, also.”

He watched as ten black cloaked, bound and

silenced

figures rose into the air in preparation for the Death Eaters’ infiltration of the prison before them. “You all know the plan and which cell you are all assigned to. Do not disappoint us.”

Lord Voldemort stepped forward, in all his snake-like glory, and waved his wand in a wide arc, turning the crowd of people before them into a mass of shimmering, distorted blobs. “You have all been

disillusioned

for your journey inside the prison, a simple

finite

will cancel it upon your arrival at each cell. Do not dally, do not forget the mission and, if it is necessary, do not hesitate to bring your brothers in arms back bound and gagged like the filth you are replacing them with.” Lord Voldemort’s voice was as quiet and sibilant as usual but there was a harsh edge that no doubt had the Death Eaters standing at attention.

“We will create your diversion,” Lord Voldemort continued, “be back within the hour or face our displeasure.”

A loud hiss-like command came from Lord Thanatos and the black, looming gates of Azkaban Prison creaked open. It was silent for a moment as the Death Eaters and their floating prisoners rushed towards the prism that haunted British Wizards’ nightmares.

The gates of hell had been opened and all hell broke loose.

(Saturday 5th July 1997 : Azkaban Prison, Cell 13)

Her cell was high up in the building, maximum security and amongst the Dementors favourite place to guard. So, when the cloaked demons looming outside her dank and filthy cell seemed to straighten up in interest, Bellatrix Lestrange was quick to notice. It was highly unusual behaviour for the foul creatures and became even more so when, almost as one, the Dementors of Azkaban left their posts.

Black cloaked figures drifted down the rows of prisoners, gaining the attention of even the most insane of inmates, and Bellatrix felt hope blossom in her chest. Was this what she had been waiting for? Was this her Lord finally making his grandiose return to the world of the living?

Out her tiny window, Bellatrix could see hundreds and thousands of Dementors streaming towards

something

just off the shore of this dreadful island and disappearing. It seemed, the Dementors had found something better to do than play guard for the Wizards. It made something warm creep into her bones knowing, even if she wasn’t to be released from his hell hole tonight, the Dementors would no longer be plaguing her nightmares with her most horrible of memories.

The sound of heavy boots scuffing on wet, uneven stone caught her attention and Bellatrix rose from her huddled position in the corner of her cell. Making her way slowly, on uneven legs, towards the rust addled bars, she peered down the aisle to greet her would-be rescuer, and found nothing. A muttered

finite

filled the eerily quiet hallway and Bellatrix was greeted with a sight that made her legs collapse out from under her.

Before her was a man she thought she would never see again. A man she thought lost to Death before he even had the chance to grow, to flourish, to step out of his father’s wide-spread shadow. He smiled at her in his boyish, charming way. Hair perfectly swept back from his forehead, teeth glistening in the light of the rising moon and eyes so bright and full of mischief she thought she could weep with happiness at his presence.

“Hello, dear sister,” he said and Bellatrix let out a sob at the sound of his voice, “It’s time we took you home.”

It was dark and cold and she had no idea where she was.

One minute she was pacing her cell waiting for the guards to come present her with her evening meal and fuck, and the next she was sprawled on the wet stone floor of a very different cell she did not recognise.

It was windy, damp and looked as though it hadn’t been updated since the Dark Ages.

It smelled of brine and human waste and she shivered in fear, wondering what the hell had been put in the water for her to end up here of all places.

The most beautiful man she had ever seen stood before her; all boyish smiles and soft, butterscotch hair, and she smiled up at him.

It had to be okay if someone as pure as him was here.

Nothing could be bad about that smile.

“There now, sweetheart,” he said and, if the circumstances were anything else she would likely have swooned at his accent. “It’s all going to be okay, just drink this.”

A glass vile before her, filled with a strange purple concoction she didn’t want to drink at all.

He smiled at her again and it was all going to be okay.

She drank the liquid and pain filled her core.

Long, wild black curls replaced her sleek blonde bob, her muscles deteriorated into nothing and her eyesight shifted to adjust to the light.

The angel of a man pointed a long wooden stick at her and a bright yellow light hit her straight in the chest.

Her head was spinning, she felt sick and alone and completely helpless.

A high, crazed cackle filled her ears and she knew she was never getting out of here alive.

The muggle was left disoriented and tongue tied in her cell and Bellatrix cackled as she stumbled after Barty. This was it. She was out. Her Lord had come for her and her family and Wizarding Britain would bow before their feet for how they treated them.

Scuffling feet and muttered words followed her down the lines of prisoners and she knew she wasn’t the only one getting out today. She would see her family again for the first time in so long and she had her Lord to thank for it. Barty gripped her elbow in an attempt to keep her steady and upright as they descended stair after stair, the ground and her freedom closer with every stumbling step she took.

She was silent as they walked, cautioned by Barty that the guards were likely on high alert due to their Lords distraction and the Dementors disappearance. The

disillusioned

form of her dear friend and little brother at her side the only thing keeping her from sprinting to the prison gates to bask in the presence of her Lord once more. His magic acting like a beacon for his followers through the dank prison walls.

They rounded a corner and Bellatrix gasped. The gates of Azkaban Prison stood tall and intimidating before her but nothing could compare to the sight before them. Two tall, black cloaked figures stood back to back flinging spell after spell at the hundred wizards guards surrounding them. They both stood tall and proud, confident their partner would protect their back while laying siege to the red coated men before them.

Barty’s hand on her elbow tightened to gain her attention. She dragged her eyes away from the beautiful display of magic to find a path cleared before her straight through the gates. Bellatrix kept an eye on the fight as she and Barty rushed through the fray and out of the prison that had been her home for so long. She felt the

disillusionment

spell fade around her and noticed the crowd of her family gathering.

They turned as one, twenty three of the most loyal, to watch as Lord Voldemort and his partner felled man after man. The grassy plane between the prison and gates strewn with red in a way that made Bellatrix’s eyes dance in the still rising moonlight.

There was a pause in the action, a lull in the very air around Azkaban, and Bellatrix held her breath in anticipation. The taller of the two figures rose to his full height before the last remaining red-coated men, a mere twenty of their original force, and spoke calmly, in a voice Bellatrix would recognise anywhere, “

Fiendfyre.

”

A snake, large and red and hotter than anything a mere mortal could produce, erupted from Lord Voldemort’s wand and Bellatrix watched in utter awe. She barely noticed when Barty gripped her elbow once more, tightly and with utter determination, as the Basilisk of cursed fire encircled the remaining guards and blocked them from view. Her stomach pulled with Barty’s apperation, a wide, manic smile spreading across her face.

Bellatrix Lestrange left Azkaban Prison with the fires of hell in her eyes.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Sunday 6th July, 1997 : 12 Grimmauld Place, Basement Kitchen)

Albus Dumbledore looked around at the gathered members of his Order of the Phoenix. These were some of the best and brightest Light witches of their generation and they all worshiped the ground Albus walked on. It made him feel almost giddy when he saw just how mindlessly they followed his every word, going so far as to break the law because he told them it was for the Greater Good of the Wizarding World.

The Order had only met once since the start of the summer, Albus had been distracted with the posthumous movements of his wayward little weapon, but now it was time they regrouped and figured out their next moves against the Dark. With Harry gone from the world, Albus was sure some of his Order were doubting the ability of the Light to prevail. He would have to use this meeting to make sure they all understood that he, Albus Dumbledore, was the real hero and he would save them all.

“Good morning everyone,” he began as he beamed widely at the room. Albus kept his eyes sharp and looking for those who had been reading the

Daily Prophet

lately and noticed the dark eyes of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Arthur, Bill and Charlie Weasley, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and, quite surprisingly, Alastor Moody. They were all strong wizards and witches, they might become a problem if he let this doubt go on.

Murmurs of good mornings back were as unenthusiastic as was to be expected early on a Sunday morning, even with the wonderful food of Molly Weasley provided. Albus beamed his usual grandfatherly smile and opened his mouth to speak, when a fluttering of wings distracted the room before he could move on with his opening speech. He made a note to himself to always plan his meetings

after

the arrival of the mail. It always seemed to be interrupting him lately and that could not go on at all.

Several copies of the

Daily Prophet

landed on the table and the horrified gasps alerted Albus to the fact the news was continuing in its latest trend of disappointing him greatly. If only he had Harry’s shares of the blasted newspaper, Albus could have had this slew of slander against his good name stopped before it even started.

“Oh, Albus,” Minerva said in a shuddering voice, “what are we going to do?”

The fear in his deputy’s voice and the murmurs of wary agreement made Albus pick up his copy of the paper. His eyes widened at the headline and his heart sank. There was no way he was going to convince his Order he had everything under control now. He really would have to stage something dramatic if he ever wanted his public support back.

BREAKING NEWS : Lord Thanatos and Masked Ally attack Azkaban

Sunday 6th July, 1997

Late yesterday evening, two masked, cloaked and clearly powerful individuals blasted through the gates of Azkaban Prison in an attack larger than any since the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in 1981. Aurors stationed at the prison were drawn to the gates when, in a most shocking display of independence, every single Dementor of Azkaban drifted to a point just past the anti-apparation wards and disappeared.

The cloaked nightmares that guard our most dangerous citizens have not been seen since, but the

Daily Prophet

has been assured that the Ministry is working tirelessly to locate them before an incident occurs (more on page 3).

The two attackers, after watching the Dementors unusual movements, launched a full scale attack on the Aurors milling around the gates that left twenty three Aurors dead and a further sixty seven in St. Mungo’s with serious injuries.

Witnesses of the attack reported that the two men worked seamlessly together and that the hundred Aurors stationed at Azkaban Prison really stood no chance against them.

An injured Auror stated one of the masked men was referred to as Lord Thanatos, but the name of the other attacker was never mentioned. Both had concealing charms on their faces and black robes covering any distinguishing features. We at the

Daily Prophet

are wondering just who this Lord Thanatos is and whether Wizarding Britain has a new Dark Lord in its midst (more on page 4.

The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, assured the public in a press conference this morning that, despite the attack and the damage done to the lower levels of Azkaban Prison, no prisoners escaped. The infamous relatives of the late Harry Potter, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, who were sentenced to life in Azkaban earlier this week and three others were caught up in a blast of rubble and did not make it through the night (more on page 5).

Speculation about the purpose of this attack and whether the Dementors were part of the plan is rife throughout the Ministry today and we at the

Daily Prophet

will update you as more details are discovered.

R, Amorim, Daily Prophet

“Well,” he said, after carefully reading the article in question and pausing for the dramatic effect that he loved so dearly, “we can be sure it’s not Voldemort at least.”

“How exactly,” Sirius spoke up from the other end of the table, “is that

not

the work of Voldemort?”

Though it still irked Albus greatly that the blasted Black dared to sit at the head of the table when he, himself, was present, Albus hadn’t the guts to call Sirius out on it when, if Sirius thought for a second that Albus was nothing but apologetic about his incarceration, there could be some very character shaming charges pulled up against him for his involvement in

that

Halloween. Yes, it was best to keep his mouth shut, despite the disrespect Black was showing to the Headmaster’s power.

“Well, Sirius,” Albus said with a gentle smile and a twinkle of the eye, “it is known, by all who care to study him, that Voldemort, no matter how desperate he may become, would never willingly work with some on equal footing.”

Albus glanced at his Potion’s Master, and gestured for him to make his own analysis. “You are, of course, right Albus,” Severus said. “The Dark Lord would never put himself in a position where someone else receives the attention he feels he deserves.”

“Quite right, my boy,” Albus replied. He was forever grateful to himself for tying the young Potions Master to Light so thoroughly. Severus provided such a wonderful backup to Albus’ genius insights. “No Death Eaters escaped and it seems to me like the attack was merely a distraction for the escape of the Dementors. Though it is troubling news about the beasts,” Albus continued, relishing in the way everyone’s eyes locked on him, “I fear we may be looking at the work of the new Peverells. After all, it is well known that the Peverells created the Dementors.”

Albus smiled internally at the raised eyebrows at this new piece of information. He knew full well that the origin of the Dementors could only be found in a very obscure book located in the very back of the Potter Library and was rather not common knowledge at all. The Order didn’t need to know that, however. It would tarnish Albus’ good name and image of a kindly educator.

“You don’t really think the Peverells would do this, do you Albus?” Minerva asked. “The boy is only sixteen after all.” Her face pinched in that awful frown of hers. She was going to wrinkle early if she continued to screw up her face like that.

“It is just speculation for the moment, my dear Minerva,” Albus replied. “But I really do not see any other option.”

There, the stage was set for the Peverells should all go awry and Albus fail to get young Hadrian to cooperate. Wizarding Britain's policy of guilty until proven innocent was so very helpful to Albus, especially in these Dark times. He had to make sure the future of the Wizarding World moved forward with his guidance. It was for the Greater Good, after all.

(Peverell Manor, Tom’s Study)

~What has you so amused my Tom?~ Nagini asked as she slithered up the arm of Tom’s chair. Tom was sitting, chuckling at this morning’s edition of the

Daily Prophet

. He thanked his lucky stars every day Hadrian Peverell was in his life. Tom couldn’t imagine where he would get his entertainment from, if not for the boy.

~Just our Hadrian’s latest plans,~ Tom hissed at the large green snake making herself comfortable across his lap. Nagini was most content when being petted on his lap, the similarities between his familiar and a kneasel were too much to ignore sometimes.

~We collected the rest of my inner circle from Azkaban last night and managed to convince the Dementors to leave the prison all without implicating Lord Voldemort or alerting the Ministry of the break out.~

Nagini let out a hiss that Tom had long recognised as her laugh and nestled more deeply into the folds of his robes. ~The hatchling came up with this plan?~ she asked, while soaking up Tom’s natural warmth.

~Indeed he did,~ Tom replied, sighing in contentment at another plan gone right due to Hadrian Peverell. ~Muggles polyjuiced as the prisoners and cursed to keep their mouths shut,~ he explained, ~It was a genius move on his part, the Ministry expects all the high security prisoners to be insane anyway, if not already wasting away in their solitude.~

~The hatchling is very smart Tom,~ Nagini stated, poking her head out of his robes to look up at Tom with intelligent black eyes. ~You should make him your hatchling.~

The nonchalance at which his familiar and horcrux stated he should, basically, adopt the boy caused Tom to choke a little in surprise. When he thought more for a moment, he realised Nagini may just be correct in the simplicity of the situation. They were already pretending to be related after all, Hadrian was already the Slytherin heir, they were going to spend thousands of years together and Hadrian had spent the majority of his teenage years with only the Dark Lord as a constant presence. Maybe Tom should adopt the boy officially?

He would have to ask the brat.

There was a knock on the office doors and Tom bade enter to whichever Death Eater was here to report. He was pleasantly surprised to see Severus at the door and quickly offered the man a chair. Tom had spent an irregular amount of time with the Potions Master this summer and he was pleasantly surprised to say he hadn’t been hating it.

Very few of Tom’s current followers held the same place in his uncaring heart that their forefathers did. Just as Lucius was nothing compared to Abraxas, so was the same for his peers. The only member of Tom’s original Knights left in the land of the living was Benjamin Nott. And, while the man was fine, he was no Cygnus or Orion Black, Corvus Lestrange or Ivan Rosier. The Lord Nott was mediocre at best and Tom was sure that was the only reason the man was still alive.

Severus, however, was a witty conversationalist and had the ability to determine formal from informal situations when he was interacting with the Dark Lord. The man was growing more comfortable in Tom’s presence and Tom had been attempting to decide the appropriateness of this development for the past week. He knew, if he asked Hadrian’s opinion, the blasted boy would just congratulate Tom on making

friends

or something equally disturbing. He supposed he would just have to see how it all played out.

“How was the Order meeting, Severus?” Tom asked, still absentmindedly stroking his clever familiar.

Severus’ face flashed with annoyance before his famous occlumency shields wiped away the visible emotion on his face. “It was as unproductive as ever, my Lord,” Severus said coolly. Tom imagined the man would be rolling his eyes if he were anyone else in the world. “The old man rambled on about your imminent return and how we all could not lose faith in the Light, or, of course, in

him

or the whole world would be doomed. The usual spiel.”

Tom chuckled. Dumbledore was so predictable. While the Dark Lord was sure the man was as dangerous and devious as his former lover, he could always be counted on to ramble on about the Greater Good of the Light.

“The

Prophet

arrived at the beginning of the meeting,” Severus continued, “Dumbledore immediately dismissed the attack as your work. He stated that you would never share your power in such an obvious way and I made sure to back him on that idea.”

Tom nodded in agreement. At least the old fool had no suspicions about his followers’ break out.

“He did, however, plant the seeds that it was the work of the Peverells and purely to gain control of their creations, the Dementors.” Severus lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at his conclusion, clearly waiting for Tom to confirm or deny that statement.

“A very old book in the Potter Library states that the Peverells created the Dementors in a necromantic experiment gone wrong,” Tom explained, not at all surprised at the extent of the old man’s snooping in other families’ business. “The Peverell Library, however,” he continued, “tells us the Dementors just appeared some time in the fifth century and no one knows where they came from. It was merely a Peverell that created the Patronus Charm so we could fight against them.”

Severus ‘hmmed’ in response, his fascination barely hidden in his dark eyes. That was another thing Tom liked about the Potions Master, he was always eager to learn new things. Just like Tom himself, Severus’ sorting must have been a toss up between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Especially at the age of eleven.

“It is good he suspects the Peverells,” Tom said, simultaneously planning a meeting with Hadrian in the near future. “It will make sure his focus is on recruiting Hadrian this coming year, and not on the political manoeuvrings we will be leading in the background.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Severus replied and Tom let the formality slide. It was more of an official setting than just breakfast in the dining room. He couldn’t quite understand why he wanted there to be a level of informality in his and Severus’ interactions. It wasn’t like he cared what the Potion Master thought, after all. It had been a long time since Tom had cared what anyone thought about him.

With a distracted wave of his hand, Tom dismissed Severus from his office. Still stroking his rather spoilt familiar, Tom settled into his large wingback chair to think. He was

feeling

much too often lately and it disturbed him. He had been detached from the world of the feeling since he was sixteen years old and Tom honestly had no idea how that could suddenly change. With a huff and a soothing hiss to Nagini, Tom figured it was all Hadrian’s fault and left it at that for now.

(Monday 7th July, 1997 : Raven’s Den, Medical Wing)

Barty looked around in awe as he walked through his Lord’s most secure property. The Raven’s Den was an historical legend and the original home of the family of Rowena Ravenclaw. It was a large manor house in the highlands of Scotland that had been lost to history around the death of the Founder herself. For Barty, as a former Ravenclaw, being invited to the Den was an honour he would treasure for all time. He just hoped he would be able to visit the library.

As the Lord of House Ravenclaw, Hadrian had restored and modernised the Den as a secure safe house for the Dark sect and currently it was the home of the ten recently rescued Death Eaters.

The medical wing of the Den played house to a family of the most skilled medical House Elves in the country. Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff had trained their House Elves in the art of healing and, while lost to the world, the Elves of the Den had continued to pass on their knowledge down the generations. The Death Eaters had been left in the capable hands of these Elves to recuperate in the most effective way from their extended stay in the hands of the Dementors.

Barty pushed open the door to a long, white, very clean room lined on either side with hospital beds. He was pleased to see the majority of his incarcerated friends were sitting up in their beds eating a hearty breakfast. Despite being acquainted with all ten of the people before him, Barty was only interested in seeing three. The Lestranges.

Throughout his childhood, Barty Crouch was a lonely boy. He was the smartest by far in his age group and his father had a fearsome reputation; a lot of people avoided him because of that. Rabastan Lestrange, however, had been the exception to that rule. Barty and Rabastan had dominated the Hogwarts academic field, continuously fluctuating between first and second place in every class they attended. The fact that Rabastan had been a Slytherin had never been a problem to Barty and, through his friend, Barty had been happily introduced to the future Death Eaters of his generation and the Dark Lord’s cause.

Barty and Rabastan had continued to be close even after graduation and they were soon joined by Rudolphus and Bellatrix. They had become very close in their service of the Dark Lord and Barty truly felt the Lestranges were his family.

The Dark Lord had coveted the foursome as his most loyal and most accomplished Death Eaters. They were all incredibly intelligent and had the brute magical strength to back up their knowledge. The only reason they had been caught at the end of the last war was the grief they had all felt at the downfall of their Lord, which had led them to distraction.

Barty smiled wide and true as he walked up to the Lestranges and caught their attention. “How are you all?” he asked and barely had time to breathe before he was tackled to the ground by an eager and excited Bellatrix.

“Barty!” she cried and almost choked him in a hug. Two deep, rumbling laughs came from behind her and, through the mess that was Bellatrix’s hair, Barty saw Rabastan and Rudolphus rise from their beds to meet him.

“It’s good to see you too, Bella,” Barty said as Rudolphus helped his wife off the floor. He accepted a hand from Rabastan and with warm greetings exchanged all around, the four settled down on the hospital beds to catch up.

Barty described to his friends the events of the past sixteen years, filling them in on everything they had missed. While he was talking, however, he failed to mention (deliberately he might add) that his new Lord and the reason for Lord Voldemort’s resurrection was, in fact, Harry Potter. He was understandably wary of telling them this piece of information, despite Hadrian giving him leave to tell his family the whole truth. The Lestranges had been in Azkaban for close to sixteen years and the last they had heard of Harry Potter was his involvement in the destruction of their Lord.

“There is one last thing I have to tell you,” Barty said, a wariness to his voice that all three Lestranges picked up on. “You have to understand,” he said, hesitating, “that he was just a baby at the time and the Dark Lord holds him in no way responsible for what happened.”

Rabastan eyed him in a way that Barty hadn’t felt in a long time. His friend had always had a way of seeing through him and it seemed a long stay in Azkaban had not robbed Rabastan of that talent. “Just who is this new Lord Thanatos, Barty?” he asked, voice laced suspicion.

“Well, he goes by Hadrian Peverell now,” Barty started, procrastinating more with his answer, “but he was born Harry Potter.”

“What!” exclaimed all three Lestranges. Barty winced at their reaction and before Bella could go off on a rant about traitors and unworthy Houses he held up his hand for silence. Surprisingly, seeing as he was the youngest of the group and used to being treated as such, they listened.

“He really is as dark as they come,” Barty explained. “His magic is second only to the Dark Lord and he is still just sixteen.”

Barty was about to go into further explanation, seeing the incredulous looks on the brothers’ faces, when Bella stopped him. “Barty?” she asked slowly, as if remembering something she had forgotten. “This boy,” she said, putting her hand to her chest, feeling something Barty could only guess at, “he wouldn’t happen to be the new Lord Black, would he?”

Barty studied Bellatrix for a moment, trying to figure out why, exactly she would ask that question. Then it hit him, and he smiled. “Yes, Bella, he is the new Lord Black.”

Bellatrix’s face split into a wide, excited grin, her eyes gleaming with a renewed enthusiasm for life. “Well then,” she said, “that certainly changes things.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Wednesday 9th July, 1997 :

Malfoy Manor, Dining Room

)

Narcissa Malfoy sat at the breakfast table in Malfoy Manor with her husband and the two eldest Weasley boys reading over the morning

Prophet

. The boys had been staying at the Manor for two weeks now and Narcissa was of the opinion that they had settled in well. William in particular had been studying the traditional ways of Wizarding Britain with an enthusiasm she had never expected of a member of the Weasley family. He had been exposed to the culture through his work with Gringotts and had explored on his own before being sent here to learn.

Both boys had very magic saturated occupations and therefore already had an appreciation for the connection to Magic they felt when performing complex spells or rituals. When Narcissa had sat them both down and explained that the rituals and celebrations of the old ways were all about re-connecting to Magic and giving back to the essence that gave them all life, they seemed to understand the importance of bringing these customs back.

Lord Peverell had given Narcissa a folder of parchments compiled by the research division of the ICW detailing the rate of decline in the ambient Magic surrounding the British Isles and she had shown the Weasley boys this documentation. They had been understandably surprised by the sharp rate of decline in the ambient magic in Britain, the historically foremost magical powerhouse of the world, since the 1940s. They had, on their own, deduced Albus Dumbledore’s involvement in this phenomenon and Narcissa had been extremely proud of the way they reacted to the information.

The Weasley boys had been receiving etiquette and deportment lessons in the evenings from the Lady Malfoy and, after two weeks of tutoring, they had been able to limit their visible anger at the situation down to a rather impressive display of accidental magic for two over age wizards. The portraits had shaken and Narcissa’s practice china tea set had been cracked beyond repair.

When Lucius had learned of William and Charles’ enthusiasm for learning the traditions their family had abandoned and ridiculed for the past three generations, he had straightened out his attitude and had begun the boys’ tuition in politics. This change, of course, had absolutely no relation to Narcissa’s throwaway comment about how satisfying pushing the children of Arthur and Molly Weasley away from their parents would be.

Lucius had spent an hour after dinner every day the past week with William and Charles and had outlined the changes he and Lord Peverell were currently making in the Wizengamot. They had, obviously, been appropriately incensed that Albus Dumbledore had voted, with the help of Harry Potter’s considerable influence, to outlaw the rituals and holidays magical beings had been celebrating for centuries. By the time Lucius had begun discussing the restrictions on magical creatures (Light and Dark in basic nature) Mr Dumbledore had introduced over the past seventy years, Narcissa was sure the Weasley boys would be siding with the Dark in the upcoming war. Whether their magic was Light or Dark itself, would not matter. Lord Peverell’s plan had been completed without a hitch and they were only half way through the month housing the boys.

Narcissa was very proud of her work.

“Merlin, Narcissa,” Charles suddenly exclaimed as Narcissa, William and Lucius were finishing their morning tea. “Have you seen the latest Skeeter article?”

Narcissa glanced quickly at her husband and received a small smirk in reply. Apparently the

lovely

Miss Skeeter had released more of Lord Peverell’s ammunition against Mr Dumbledore and, judging by Charles and William’s faces as they read the accusing article, it was just as shocking as the rest.

Hogwarts: The Safest Place In Britain?

Wednesday 9th July, 1997

I am back again, my dear readers, with shocking information provided by the late Harry Potter. Last time I provided you with a detailed account of our beloved Saviour’s life before he reentered the Wizarding World and today I bring you his life within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

We have heard countless times over Albus Dumbledore’s tenure as Headmaster that Hogwarts is on par with Gringotts for the safest place in Magical Britain. We have all believed this because Albus Dumbledore told us it was so. The man who defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald and protected us for so long against You-Know-Who has been presiding over our children for the past sixty years and we have trusted him to keep them safe.

Due to the, simply horrifying, lack of official documentation passing between the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts, I have thus far been unable to accurately prove Dumbledore’s continuous endangerment of our children before the year of 1991, the year Harry Potter started school. After reading the late Mr Potter’s statement and interviewing a number of students who attended our prestigious school in the past six years, however, I can now say with complete certainty that Hogwarts is no longer safe for our children.

In the six years Mr Potter attended Hogwarts, he encountered a Cerberus, a Troll, Acromantula, Dementors and a Basilisk all within the walls of the supposed safest place in Britain. A detailed report of how exactly Mr Potter encountered all these dangerous beasts can be seen on page 5, but the most dangerous thing Mr Potter experienced was not, in fact a beast, but a member of our honourable Ministry.

In the year of 1995, our esteemed Minister Cornelius Fudge appointed Madame Dolores Umbridge as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Her appointment came about when Headmaster Dumbledore was unable to procure a Professor for the subject for the ‘95-’96 school year. At the end of the term Madame Umbridge was praised for her efforts towards the highest OWL and NEWT scores in Defence Hogwarts had produced since the retirement of Professor Merrythort. This, however, was a lie.

Mr Potter gave me detailed notes on the Defence club he ran throughout the ‘95-’96 school year because Madame Umbridge, under strict orders from the Minister himself, refused to allow students to practice magic within her classroom. Madame Umbridge’s classrooms were run in a strictly ‘sit down and shut up’ fashion and, when students disobeyed her many rules and regulations, they received the most barbaric punishments I have ever heard of.

While in detention, students were forced to write with a Blood Quill, a Class A restricted object that extracts the writer’s blood to use as ink. Over forty students were subject to this punishment and have been permanently scarred as a result. I can assure you, dear readers, I have investigated this claim thoroughly, and passed the relevant information onto the DMLE, who I urge to press charges against the relevant parties.

Headmaster Dumbledore, during the aforementioned school year, advised his staff to let Madame Umbridge run her classroom however she pleased. Therefore, when students, Mr Potter included, came forward about the barbaric and illegal way Madame Umbridge was conducting her detentions, their complaints were not heard. In fact, … (continues page 3)

“Well,” Narcissa said as she gently laid down the

Prophet

, “I certainly hope that horrible woman is being dealt with, Lucius.”

Her husband nodded his head placatingly. “You can be assured, my love, that we have plans for Madame Umbridge’s downfall.”

(Saturday 12th July, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Wolves’ Meeting Room)

Being the upstanding and soon-to-be influential member of society that he was, it was not uncommon for Draco Malfoy to find himself at some sort of social gathering late on a Saturday morning during the summer holidays. He often found himself at various garden parties or political gatherings of some persuasion, surrounded by the children of his father’s associates or other high society people. This gathering, however, was quite possibly the strangest and most exciting that he had ever been requested to attend.

On the ground level of Peverell Manor was a large square room previously occupied by items of an entertainment nature. There was a room quite like this, though perhaps not quite as large, within Malfoy Manor that housed Draco’s mother’s prized piano forte and his father’s billiards table. This room, however, only had one distinctive piece of furniture; a humongous round stone table right out of the stories of King Arthur and his Knights.

Draco sat at this table, surrounded by the most diverse group of people he had been a part of outside of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. To his right sat the Dark Lord Thanatos, Hadrian Peverell, to his left, the seer and renowned Hogwarts outcast, Luna Lovegood.

Circling the table was a collection of all Hogwarts Houses, blood status and ways of life. The Weasley twins sat in between Neville Longbottom and several members of the old Slytherin Quidditch team. This coming term’s seventh year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs sat interspersed with the famous Gryffindor Quidditch team captained by Oliver Wood. Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks sat with previously incarcerated Barty Crouch Jr. and Sirius Black. And, quite possibly the most astounding to Draco, the 1991 Slytherin Head Girl Gemma Farley, sat gossiping quietly with Lavender Brown and the Patil Twins.

The murmur of noise echoing through the room quietened when Hadrian Peverell cleared his throat. Draco watched, awed, as thirty people turned their attention solely and completely to the man next to him and waited for him to begin.

“Welcome,” Hadrian said in a carrying voice, “to our first full meeting of the summer.” He smiled around the table and Draco’s heart seized. It was a truly beautiful smile, the fang poking out through his lips only endearing Draco more. “Before we begin, I’d like to introduce you all to heir Draco Malfoy.” Draco paused at this. He knew he was going to be introduced to the group but he had no idea he would be the first item on Hadrian’s agenda.

Draco did suppose his presence had to be explained, but the Dark Lord never offered these types of explanations to his followers so he assumed, wrongly he might add, that Hadrian wouldn’t either. There were obviously more differences in the running of the Death Eaters and the Wolves than Draco had originally thought.

“He will be attending all relevant meetings over the summer and our goal in this is to persuade darling Draco to our side,” Hadrian continued and Draco blushed. Hadrian had been calling him darling for almost a month now and it still never failed to bring colour to his cheeks. “As it stands Draco is set to take the Dark Mark before the beginning of his seventh year and I would like you all to convince him that, while Tom is no slouch when it comes to being a fearsome Dark Lord, there will always be more honour and,

satisfaction

in being a Wolf.”

Hadrian smirked and a chuckle rippled around the table. Draco didn’t know what to think. He was essentially being head-hunted by two Dark Lords and he was apparently expected to make a choice about which one to follow. All his life, Draco had assumed he would follow in his father’s footsteps and take the Dark Mark once he was of age.

When his seventeenth birthday passed and he had still not received the Mark, Draco had honestly forgotten it mattered. He had already been attending Death Eater meetings and everything else that had happened since the beginning of summer had pushed the issue of marking out of his mind. To suddenly find he had a choice between two marks, two Lords, was not something Draco was ever expecting and, at this point in time, he honestly didn’t know what he would choose. While both groups were obviously striving for the same goal, Draco did not know

who

he wanted to call his Master.

There was a murmur of ‘yes, my Lord’s around the table and a few wicked grins were sent in Draco’s direction before Hadrian drew the attention back to himself. “I would also like to draw your attention to a personal matter of my own,” Hadrian said. “As you can probably tell, I came into a creature inheritance at the beginning of summer and am now what the Goblins call a Living Vampire.”

A few gasps came from the Wolves, but Draco noticed no looks of fear or disgust in the eyes of Hadrian’s followers. If anything, they looked more in awe of him than they were at the beginning of this meeting. Considering how many of the families in attendance battled on the side of the Light in the last war, Draco was assuming there would be a more prejudiced response to Hadrian’s obvious Dark Creature status. Draco did suppose, however, that the wolves

would

know what they were fighting for and they were obviously on the Dark side now. It was a rather silly expectation of his to have now he thought about it.

“Basically what that means,” Hadrian continued, “is that I’m suddenly a lot harder to kill and I’ll be around for a lot longer than we originally thought.” Hadrian winked at his followers and they all chuckled again. Draco was beginning to realise just how relaxed this meeting was going to be. It really was a true contrast to the strict and rigid nature of the Death Eater meetings.

Hadrian bowed his head in Longbottom’s direction and Draco was finally able to see why Neville was Lord Thanatos’ right hand. He controlled the room just as well as his Lord and, for some reason Draco did not know yet, he commanded just as much respect as his Lord as well.

“We will begin with the Ministry updates,” Neville said, gesturing to a cluster of Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Aurors across the table from Draco. A girl, Bones if Draco remembered correctly, began.

“I believe, my Lord, I have finally broken through to my Aunt,” she said, a smug smile spreading across her slightly chubby face.

Draco frowned for a moment before he realised who the Bones girl was talking about. Madame Amelia Bones, the inscrutable head of the DMLE. Draco was sure his father felt absolutely no love for the woman, purely because she had the singular ability to resist Lucius’ bribes. Hadrian was apparently working on recruiting the formidable woman and Draco sure did commend him on his ambition. The Dark had been attempting to poach Madame Bones from the Neutrals for years with absolutely no success.

“She is uncommonly focused on Dumbledore at the moment,” Bones continued. “She has been looking into him discreetly ever since that first Skeeter article you put out, my Lord. Realising she, or anyone else for that matter, knew nothing about the placement of our world's most famous orphan seemed to shock her quite greatly. I believe Sirius’ hearing was what really decided the matter for her, though. Learning the old coot knew there was an innocent man rotting in prison for all those years and did nothing about it...”

A growl rippled through the air at that remark and Draco was almost certain it originated from Sirius Black.

“Well,” Bones continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, “let’s just say she’s out for someone's blood and that blood will most definitely be Dumbledore’s.”

Hadrian smiled at the Bones girl and Draco was once again forced to remind himself that Lord Thanatos and Lord Voldemort were two very different leaders. The day the Dark Lord smiled at a Death Eater would be a dark day, Draco was sure. Lord Voldemort only smiled for the cruelest of reasons.

“Well done, Susan,” Hadrian said, his smooth voice displaying his appreciation well. “Keep an eye on her and keep her on task with the Headmaster.”

Draco did not fail to notice the slight blush that covered the Bones girl’s cheeks at her Lord’s praise or the blinding smile and flutter of eyelashes she sent Hadrian’s way, and a rush of jealousy swept through him. He could not stand to have this hussy making eyes at Hadrian Peverell. Draco did not know if he had the right in this situation, or if his actions were about to be galaxies out of line, but his hand slipped under the table and grasped Hadrian’s thigh in a possessive hold. His eyes stayed fixed on the blonde Hadrian’s attention was still on, and he directed his iciest glare at her. The glare he usually saved for Harry Potter and his cronies across the Hogwarts Great Hall.

There was a slight chuckle to his right and Draco turned to see Hadrian smirking at him, a glint of smug satisfaction in his piercing green eyes. The vampire leaned towards Draco’s ear and in a soft whisper said; “relax, darling. There is no one here more beautiful and magnificent than you.”  
Draco’s face heated in equal parts embarrassment and pleasure and he looked down at the impressive stone table before him. He was inordinately pleased that Hadrian thought him beautiful and knew his reaction to the Bones girl was stupid. Just because someone was showing interest in Hadrian Peverell did not mean that Hadrian Peverell was showing interest in return. It was impossible for a man who looked like Hadrian did to not turn heads in any situation. Draco knew this more than most, he himself was gawked at wherever he happened to be. There was no point being jealous, especially considering Hadrian was not, at this point, Draco’s to be jealous over.
As he absently tuned into Terrance Higgs’ report on the new werewolf bill attempting to force its way through the Wizengamot via Madame Umbridge’s toady hands, Draco’s embarrassment softened a little. Hadrian might not be

his

just yet, but there was no denying the fact that Draco’s hand was still securely on the vampire’s upper thigh. Or that the satisfied gleam in Hadrian’s eye did not look to be disappearing any time soon.

Hadrian was trying his best to focus on his wolves, he really was. But his mate was touching him and the jealousy he had seen in Draco’s eyes at Susan’s minor flirting was more distracting than he could have anticipated.

His father was outlining the no doubt ingenious way he was currently reintegrating himself back into the circle of Grey Lords and Ladies he ran with before the unfortunate events of October 1981, and Hadrian was not paying a lick of attention. His focus was solely on the slight movement of Draco’s thumb on his outer thigh and how desperately he wanted to just take his mate back to his room and have his way with him.

If this was any indication of the distraction Draco would be at these sorts of meetings, maybe it would be best for him to join Tom’s army. Purely so Hadrian could listen to what his Wolves were talking about and actually understand the words he was hearing.

As Neville moved the meeting onto the Patil twins, Gemma and Lavender and the ‘gossip’ they were spreading about the fascinating new Peverells, Hadrian forced himself to focus. There was no way he was going to remove his mate’s hand from his person when Draco had so forcefully indicated his desire for its presence there, therefore, Hadrian would just have to learn to adapt. He could do this. He had to. Tom would never let him hear the end of it if he couldn’t.

Kingsley was detailing the latest Order meeting to the group and Dumbledore’s suspicions about the Peverell’s involvement, when Hadrian finally pulled himself out of his head. He would have to congratulate Draco at some point on how thoroughly he controlled Lord Thanatos’ attention.

And make sure to ask Neville what the hell had been said in the past twenty minutes.

“Dumbledore will be focusing his attention on me this year,” Hadrian said, drawing his Wolves attention back to him. He had to admit it was rather thrilling how easily he could do that. “He will no doubt spend the school year attempting to recruit me to the Light.

“This is advantageous for us, of course, because it means you all will be able to work behind the scenes and Dumbledore will be none the wiser until it is too late.” His eyes drifted over his Slytherins in particular at this comment. They would be the ones pushing through his ideals at the Wizengamot. Names like Flint and Warrington got you far in the corrupted hell hole that was the British Wizarding Ministry, no matter how old you were.

Anthony Goldstein outlined the plan he had to recruit the younger Ravenclaws when the first term began. Regular House meetings, tutoring sessions and replacing the more prejudiced books in the common room library was regarded as a spectacular idea by all and would most likely be adopted by the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors when the time came. Much to Hadrian’s amusement. As long as he had been doing this, playing Dark Lord, it still amused Hadrian greatly that he had a small army of people at his disposal. All ready and eagerly waiting to convert young, impressionable minds to his way of thinking. He did wonder whether this was how Tom felt at his age; unquestionable powerful and with a whole school in his hands.

Alicia, Angelina and Katie explained the reaction Harry Potter’s death had among the greater magical population. Apparently Hadrian had underestimated the amount of wizards and witches who revered Harry Potter when he planned this elaborate scheme. He was unsure how he felt about the birthday memorial Alicia mentioned was planned for the 31st. When he was Harry Potter, Hadrian had barely celebrated his birthday on his own. He couldn’t imagine just how embarrassed and flustered his Gryffindor Golden Boy persona would have felt to know that thousands of people would be gathered to remember him at the end of the month.

Neville led the Wolves through more recruitment ideas, the basic timeline of Hadrian and Rita’s

Prophet

attack on Dumbledore and finally the meeting was at its end. “I want to thank you all for coming,” Hadrian began, locking eyes with each one of his loyal followers. “You all know your orders before the school year begins. Complete those, be on the lookout for any opposition to our cause and contact me immediately with any unusual movements within the Ministry or the Order.”

“Inner circle, stay behind,” Hadrian spoke to the room, then waved his hand dismissively at the rest of the Wolves. They left, bowing to Lord Thanatos as they passed, muttering ‘my Lords’ at the same time, and Hadrian could not help basking in power these people willingly gave to him. He was in charge here, and everyone knew it. He was their

Lord

and despite his age, despite his inexperience with the world at large, these people looked to him to command them. They were leading a revolution against the corruption and general uselessness of the British Wizarding World and

he

was their chosen leader. Not Voldemort, not Dumbledore, not Fudge,

him

.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Saturday 12th July, 1997 : Peverell Manor, Wolves’ Meeting Room)

“Fred, George,” Hadrian began, once the outer circle had all left. “I want you to keep an eye on your mother and sister for me. Ginny looked particularly nauseating in the Alley last month and I would like to be prepared for any potential love potions coming my way once the term begins.”

The twins nodded in assent to his new orders, not minding in the slightest that Hadrian had just told them to spy on their family. It wouldn’t be the first time after all.

“I would also like you to work on something else for me,” Hadrian continued, catching the twins' full attention with the hint of mischief in his tone. Mischief was, after all, the twins favourite pastime. Closely followed by mayhem. “I want a way to be able to see into Dumbledore’s office at all times,” he began and chuckled at the spark that lit both twins’ eyes at this challenge. “Think of the Map but with visual and audio capabilities.

“I want to be able to see and hear what the old man is up to no matter what privacy charms he puts in place. I want it to be undetectable to the portraits, the elves and the old man himself. I want it there as soon as possible and I want another one in the Order meeting room once you’re done.”

The twins looked positively gleeful at the challenge he had set for them and Hadrian counted that as a win. If ever there came a day where the Weasley twins were unsatisfied with Hadrian’s cause, he was sure the Dark would perish in no time at all. Fred and George were geniuses of an unparalleled caliber and Hadrian was thankful every day they continued to follow his lead.

“Barty,” Hadrian continued, looking towards his first Wolf, “have you done as I asked?”

The manic gleam in Barty’s baby blue eyes told Hadrian all he needed to know before the man even opened his mouth to reply.

“Yes, my Lord,” Barty said, sounding almost reverent, “she’s in cell sixteen down below.”

Hadrian flashed his teeth in a wide grin and nodded in praise. He had sent Barty on the most important mission; to retrieve and store Madame Umbridge. As much as he would have

loved

to retrieve the toad himself, Hadrian had found that Barty truly enjoyed being sent on these kinds of missions; and who was he to deny his Wolf the pleasure of a hunt.

“Thank you, Barty. We’ll go down and give her a proper greeting later,” Hadrian said, turning to Neville on his right with an eyebrow raised in question.

“With pleasure, my Lord,” Neville replied calmly. Hadrian smirked in satisfaction. He and Nev were going to have a very pleasant afternoon with the honourable Madame Umbridge. They would make sure to really give her the Peverell welcome.

“What’s the story?” Hadrian asked.

“She saw the Rita article and ran,” Neville explained succinctly. That was one of the things Hadrian loved about his right hand. He went straight to the point and, no matter how bloodthirsty or angered he was, he always made sure to present a calm and collected front. He was the perfect person to stabilise Hadrian’s sometimes violent and hot-tempered outbursts. When Lord Thanatos was just power and rage and action, his right hand was cunning and patient with a wicked sense of revenge.

“She may have been intercepted by a coven of angry vampires before she could escape the country, however,” Barty continued, his eyes shining with mirth and just a little bit of madness left over from his time in Azkaban. “It truly is a tragedy that they wanted revenge for her latest creature laws and fled before they could be accused of murdering a Ministry Official.”

“Indeed?” Hadrian asked, his eyebrow raised in a purely Snape-like fashion. His Wolves had done well it seems. 
“Her body will be found tortured and drained of blood at the edge of the Forest of Dean in three days' time,” Neville finished, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards at the delighted laugh that escaped Hadrian before he could control it. The slight tightening of a hand on his thigh, reminded Hadrian that his other Wolves and his mate were still in the room and, despite how much he wanted to, he couldn’t go and deal with Umbridge right now. There was still one other thing he needed to discuss. 
“Before I go fulfil my every fifth year fantasy, there is one more thing I wished to bring up,” Hadrian spoke to the wider group but focused his attention on his mate.

“Draco, darling, there’s something I need you to do for me.” Hadrian smirked lightly at the look of shock that passed over his mate’s features before it was expertly masked by the pureblood heir.

Draco cleared his throat, his hand on Hadrian’s thigh tightening slightly with his nerves, but, much to Hadrian’s joy, never leaving its place. “Yes, my Lord,” Draco asked and Hadrian politely ignored the shake in his mate’s voice. Hadrian assumed Draco was still coming to terms with the differences between Lord Thanatos and Lord Voldemort and chose not to be offended that his mate would think that he could ask Draco to do something he wouldn’t want to do. The very thought appalled him, though he supposed Draco didn’t know that. He really should talk to his mate in the near future…

“I have plans for Hogwarts this year,” Hadrian said, “and the Slytherins will be invaluable in completing them.

“That, and Hadrian Peverell will no doubt be sorted into the snake den come September and having a civil relationship with my housemates is always a good way to start the year.”

Hadrian saw the comprehension dawn in Draco’s eyes and smiled when his mate spoke up again. “You want me to invite the seventh years to an introductory meeting?” he asked and Hadrian nodded in assent.

“If that’s not too much trouble,” Hadrian continued. “I’d like to ‘meet’ them before school shopping in Diagon in the last week of the holiday. If you’re the one to introduce us, they’ll respect me more and will hopefully doubt my credibility less.” Hadrian chuckled at this point. “You do have to admit that there is a certain amount of doubt inspired by my full list of titles. Having the current Prince of Slytherin as a reference of my prestige will make it easier for me to take over the house during the year.”

Neville made a small coughing noise next to Hadrian and the vampire realised what it was he just said; and noticed the disgruntled look on Draco’s face.

He sent a slightly sympathetic look towards his mate before adding to his explanation. “I will be taking over leadership of the House within the first month of term, Draco,” he said, regret light in his voice but still present. While he was apologetic about deposing his mate’s throne in the Slytherin common room, Lord Thanatos had no intention of altering his plans to accommodate his mate in such a way. Draco did not need to lead in the Slytherin common room when Hadrian was there to do it for him.

“Of course, my Lord,” Draco said and Hadrian definitely heard a hint of indignation in the blonde’s tone. It was okay, though. Draco would no doubt understand the need for the true heir of Slytherin to rule over the dungeons when the time came.

“Is next weekend amicable to you, my Lord?” Draco asked and Hadrian knew, from the haughty tilt of his mate’s chin, that he was going to have to make up for his earlier slight. There were gifts of some sort in Draco’s future that was for sure.

“That would be fine, darling, set it up and I’ll be there,” Hadrian said with a soft smile in Draco’s direction. He was going to have to butter his mate up before this meeting, lest he try to keep his House position in a bid to hold onto his pride. It was a trait Hadrian could see came from Draco’s father. Draco was much more capable of letting his pride go than Lucius however, so Hadrian was not too concerned that Draco would be a problem in the long run.

“That is all I need from you today,” Hadrian announced to the table as a whole. “Keep me updated on any new developments.” He waved a hand to dismiss his inner circle, signalling Neville to stay behind, and turned to Draco fully.

“I need to deal with a rather unfortunate woman now, darling,” Hadrian purred, taking his mate’s hand off his thigh and bringing it up to his lips. “I shall see you at dinner.”

Draco nodded shakily, a blush spreading up his neck when Hadrian kissed his knuckles, and left the room with the other Wolves. As much as Draco may prove to be a distraction he didn’t need, Hadrian dearly hoped his mate joined his Wolves rather than Tom’s Death Eaters. If nothing else could persuade him, Hadrian would just have to point out how much nicer his Mark was next to Tom’s garish skull and snake.

(Peverell Manor, Dungeons)

Neville Longbottom was a simple man. He enjoyed his plants, practicing defence spells and causing chaos with his best friend, Hadrian Peverell. Therefore, if there was anything at all that Neville could have done in his life, it, most probably, wouldn’t have been plotting world domination. That was the direction in which Hadrian wanted to follow, however, and Neville was nothing if not loyal. The most Hufflepuff Gryffindor in the world, according to his friends.

Neville was not complaining, far from it in fact. He loved his Lord and his cause and all the other Wolves that surrounded him. Hadrian had waltzed into his life at age eleven and for the first time, Neville felt like he belonged somewhere. Someone had finally seen him for who

he

was and not as a poor replacement for his

great

auror parents.

There were times, of course, where Neville wondered just what his parents would think of him siding with someone so like the ‘monster’ they had fought so hard against, but those moments were fleeting and few and far between. His parents had been out of his life since he was 18 months old and, despite loving them unconditionally, as all good sons were meant to, Neville carried a certain amount of resentment towards them. He had so often been compared to his mum and dad and never, once, had he been able to live up to those expectations.

His grandmother had never loved him for who he was, never appreciated all that he could be as an individual and not a poor imitation of his father, and the rest of his family had been of the same mind. Neville had been isolated and so low on self esteem when he had entered Hogwarts that he had been desperate for some kind of approval. Hadrian had not needed to do much to sway Neville to his side.

A little kindness here, a dash of respect there and Neville had been like putty in Hadrian’s hands. Ready and willing to be moulded into anything the young Lord wanted him to be.

Many people would call Neville naive for sticking with Hadrian even after he manipulated him so thoroughly in his formative years. They would call him a fool for thinking that, despite what the evidence suggested, Hadrian really was his dearest and closest friend and those feelings were returned in full by the other man. But Neville had known exactly what Hadrian was from very early on in their relationship. There were some bonuses to being shoved to the side your entire childhood, and those included picking up an impressive talent for observation.

Neville had, quite quickly, picked up on the duplicity of Hadrian’s character. He would act one way around Weasley and Granger, then completely differently around the other members of their year. He was skilful in allowing only certain people to notice these signs, and was more than forthcoming with his motives when Neville had finally plucked up the courage to confront him about it. Hadrian had explained to Neville his desire to be

better

than the ‘Light’s little Golden Boy’ and all the expectations the Wizarding World, as a whole, heaped onto him, and Neville had

understood

.

Their friendship was absolute and completely without question in Neville’s mind so, therefore, when Neville found himself pushed up against the wall of the Peverell Manor dungeon, with Hadrian’s arm braced threateningly against his neck, his new found fangs bared; Neville was not worried. His breathing and heartbeat were calm and steady and he looked into the enraged eyes of his Lord with an unflinching ability very few were able to boast.

“What seems to be the problem, my Lord,’ Neville said, his breath coming out a little short at the pressure Hadrian’s arm had over his windpipe.

“Why exactly, my dear Neville,” Hadrian said with a deadly calm Neville knew meant he was struggling to control himself, “are the Dursley’s in these dungeons when I

specifically

ordered them to be left to the mercy of Azkaban’s destruction.”

‘Ah,’ Neville replied, hesitance now in his voice. ‘Well, you see, the Dark Lord-’

‘Tom?’ Hadrian interrupted.

‘Yes, my Lord.’ Neville said quickly, ignoring the interruption that would have been an insult from anyone else in the world. “The Dark Lord and Snape thought it would be prudent to enact a sort of revenge on the Dursleys that Azkaban’s destruction would not allow.”

Hadrian’s eyes flashed with anger and he snarled into Neville’s face. “And why, exactly,” he hissed, “did you keep this from me?”

Neville chuckled and smirked into his best friend's enraged face. “Because I knew you would react exactly like this and I didn’t want to be blamed for their inability to listen.” The pressure was released from Neville’s neck and he righted himself efficiently and without fuss. There was something very affirming about being able to stand so unaffected in the presence of his angered vampire Lord. Neville felt he was justified in the well of pride he felt at being so calm in the presence of such volatile power.

“Shall we continue, Hadrian,” he said, turning to walk further into the dungeons, allowing his friend to follow once he was composed.

Footsteps fell into step beside his own and Neville glanced sideways to see a sheepish expression on Hadrian’s face. “I’m sorry Nev,” Hadrian said, a slight blush high on his cheekbones. “I really shouldn’t have taken that out on you. I know you respect my wishes when it comes to

them

,” he spat the word like it was the worst curse imaginable and Neville couldn’t blame him.

The thing was; before he heard about the Dark Lord and Snape’s plan for the Dursley’s, Neville was seriously considering coming up with one of his own. The only reason he hadn’t ahead of the elder duo was the lack of a partner willing to aid him in the endeavour. While Barty would have been his first (and only) choice, the man was more single-minded than even Neville when it came to following their Lord’s orders. It would take a monumental slight against Lord Thanatos for Barty Crouch Jr to ever disregard his Lord in such a way, and enact revenge against Hadrian’s wishes.

The Dursleys were probably the only people Hadrian wouldn’t enjoy revenge against, however, and Neville was glad of that fact. Despite what Hadrian projected to the world, Neville knew there was still a little boy, deep inside the hardened man who wished desperately to love and be loved in return by his relatives. The Dursleys would always be Hadrian’s weakness in that way and that was precisely why Neville agreed with the Dark Lord and Snape’s plan. Hadrian needed catharsis when it came to his relatives, whether the man believed it or not.

A small whimpering attracted Neville’s attention away from his Lord’s unfortunate relatives and he smiled as the tension in Hadrian’s shoulders loosened at the sight before him. Sitting, curled as tightly as she could manage in the back corner of cell sixteen was the pink clad form of Dolores Umbridge.

A low chuckle emanated from Neville as Umbridge noticed their approach. Her eyes were wider than usual, protruding from her gaunt, sallow face as she pressed herself as close to the cell wall as possible. No doubt she was wishing she could be swallowed by the dirty bricks and integrated into the very foundations of Peverell Manor.

“Look who it is my Lord,” Neville crooned, “a toad.” He stalked up to the bars before him and peered intently at the terror of his fifth year. ‘I will not be a coward’ shone brightly on his clenched fist, scarred forever into the back of his hand. The Dark Lord had done some truly horrendous things at the height of his mania (Neville’s parents were not the only permanent members of the Janus Thickey Ward after all) but Neville believed there was no one more evil than the woman in front of him.

Umbridge had been placed in a position of authority over children. She had a duty of care to the students in her classroom and the school in general and she had abused that duty to the highest order. There was nothing in Neville’s mind that could redeem Dolores Umbridge and he was waiting with great anticipation for Hadrian’s go ahead to enact revenge for hundreds of students on their prisoner.

“Hmm,” Hadrian hummed. Green eyes boring so intently into Umbridge, Neville was unsure if his Lord was using Legilimency or not. “What should we do with her, Neville?” he asked, and Neville smirked. Oh, how he was going to relish this moment for a

long

time. He had been imagining this moment since he was fifteen and trapped in a garish pink office choking on the sweet scent of sugar and oleander. He had consulted with all the other school age Wolves, and even some students his Lord had not yet marked, and they had all agreed on one thing. Umbridge should have a taste of her own medicine.

Neville pulled a long, black quill from the inner pocket of his robes and presented it to his Lord. “It’s been charmed to write from a different position on her body whenever the scarring becomes permanent,” Neville explained at Hadrian’s raised eyebrow. “I’ve spoken to the others and we recommend; ‘I must respect my superiors’.”

Hadrian’s grin was all fangs and death and Neville knew his idea was well received. He walked forwards and placed his hand on the bars of Umbridge’s cell. The metal melted away with the Peverell’s intent to enter and Umbridge decided to take her chance. She pushed herself up with surprising agility and rushed for the gap between Hadrian and the wall.

Neville stepped into her path with ease, towering over her now he was two years older, and she whimpered. He grabbed her by the scruff of her dirty pink robes and bodily dragged her to the wooden desk Hadrian had just conjured. She fell, defeated into the straight backed chair, and Neville pulled his wand out.

There was something so very satisfying in the look of terror on Umbridge’s face when he cast an overpowered sticking charm on her seat. There would be no getting up for Dolores Umbridge. No reprieve from the punishment she would be dealt. No mercy from Neville Longbottom at all.

“Listen closely, Dolores,” Hadrian began, attracting Umbridge’s attention and holding her in his piercing gaze, “you’ll want to understand the rules.”

“You’re going to sit here like a good little girl and you’re going to write me some lines,” Hadrian smirked as Umbridge paled considerably. He handed her the modified blood quill and a never ending piece of parchment. “You’re going to write ‘I must respect my superiors’, and you’re going to continue to write it, Dolores, until the message sinks in.”

(Peverell Manor, Tom’s Study)

The door of his office slammed open and Tom sighed.

There was Hadrian, hair blowing out with the help of his swirling magic and a snarl upon his normally composed face.

There was also Neville Longbottom, standing sheepishly behind his angry Lord and offering no help to the duo occupying the office before him.

Tom shared a commiserating look with Severus, who was part way through an update on the Order’s latest moves (or lack thereof), then turned resignedly to the angry young man. “What can I do for you, my dear?” he said, projecting the calm facade that generally mollified Hadrian when he was in a mood. He found that Hadrian calmed a lot quicker when his anger seemed to have no effect on the subject.

“You utter bastard!” Hadrian said, his magic cracking the glass front of the liquor cabinet behind Tom’s desk. There was obviously something very wrong if Hadrian’s magic was so out of control. The vampire had progressed enormously in controlling the magic the Goblins had released from Dumbledore’s binds, and, no, Tom was not going to take credit for teaching him. It was all Hadrian’s work of course.

Hadrian seemed to be angry at him and Tom was honestly unsure what it was he had done to upset the vampire this time. He couldn’t remember torturing needlessly or forgetting to thank the House Elves or even leaving his lunch dishes in the sunroom after his midday meal. As far as Tom could remember, he had been on his best behaviour recently and,

really

, he never should have put himself into a situation where he needed to have a best behaviour in the first place.

“Why?” Hadrian asked, his voice rising to almost hysterical levels and Tom was almost worried for him. Surely such emotions were tiring.

“Why, what, Hadrian dear?” Tom asked, conveying the innocence he felt. He idly wondered when he became so secure in his relationship with Hadrian that he no longer felt the need to show the younger man his place. It was not so long ago that Hadrian would have found himself on the receiving end of the Dark Lord’s

crucio

just for entering his office without knocking first, let alone speaking to him in such a manner. Perhaps it was when he decided he was going to adopt the boy. Perhaps these were familial feelings.

“Why are the Dursley’s currently down in my dungeons and

not

blown away with the bottom layer of Azkaban

like we discussed

!” Hadrian shrieked.

“Well,” Tom said, refraining from rolling his eyes only through years of stringent self control, “because, they’re

our

dungeons and I can imprison whomever I want down there.”

Tom quickly deduced this was the wrong thing to say when he felt the room heat up a few degrees and heard an ominous groan from his desk. Hadrian was showing more emotion in this conversation than Tom had seen in a very long while and he did not like it one bit.

“Peverell, they belong down there and you know it,” Severus spoke up, his tone almost sympathetic and Tom marveled. This must be how the potions master talked to his Slytherins. “Perishing in Azkaban was too quick a death for them after all they did to you.”

Hadrian took a deep breath in and turned his glare to Severus. “They were gone, Severus,” he said in a very different tone to the one he had used moments before. Tom was unsure what exactly it was Hadrian was feeling at the moment but it seemed as if Severus knew.

“I know, Hadrian,” Severus said, walking up to the vampire and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “They were gone,” he repeated, and Hadrian looked into the elder man’s eyes, “but now you have the chance to confront them. When you’re ready. When you need to. When it’s time for you to move on.”

The room was silent for a long moment before Hadrian let out an explosive sigh, his shoulders slumping and the room righting itself around him. He nodded once to Severus and the other man lowered his hand and backed up a step. Hadrian threw one last withering look in Tom’s direction. “I’m still mad,” he said, then stalked out of the office, Longbottom quietly closing the door behind him.

Severus had returned to his seat and looked like he was about to continue his report like nothing had interrupted them, so Tom held up his hand for silence. “What?” Tom said, his bewilderment apparent.

Severus looked closely at Tom, studying his face for a long moment. Then, Severus laughed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

(Saturday 19th July, 1997 :

Peverell Manor, Sunroom

)

“Have you read this?” Draco placed the

Sunday Prophet

in front of Hadrian as he sat across from him at a secluded table in the sunroom.

“Ah, yes,” Hadrian replied, “Rita’s latest masterpiece.”

Skeeter had interviewed sixteen former Hogwarts students and asked their opinion on the school’s attitude towards abuse and students’ lives outside the school in general. The findings had been astounding. The general public had no idea Severus went to such lengths to get his Slytherins out of troubled homes, or that McGonagall would be so separated from her students that she wouldn’t know if they woke up sick in the middle of the night, let alone something more serious.

“I really am amazed at how many people have come forward about Dumbledore’s negligent attitude towards abuse,” Draco said. “Even with the power of Harry Potter’s influence, I never expected people to be so willing to share.”

“Neither did I, darling,” Hadrian replied, trailing his hand down Draco’s forearm and absently spooning eggs onto Draco’s plate. “I suppose with the amount of bad press Dumbledore has received lately, people are not as concerned about the potential retaliation for speaking out.”

Hadrian gazed deeply into Draco’s eyes and engulfed Draco’s slender hand within his own. “I am rather glad it has turned out this way,” he said, wondering whether Draco would pick up on the double meaning of his statement. “It pleases me greatly when I get what I have wanted for so long.”

The blush that spread quickly over Draco’s cheeks encapsulated Hadrian completely. He knew they both were aware they shared a connection of some sort, and he was pretty sure all Luna’s touching lately was purely to make both Hadrian and Draco jealous. But even though he knew he should, he didn't want to breach the subject. Didn’t want to risk the rejection he was half sure he would receive in

that

conversation. Maybe, once they had become more than just former enemies, turned acquaintances with a mutual attraction to each other

Hadrian just wasn’t sure how well he was going to keep the silence up. Despite the very Slytherin traits he was channelling to get what he wanted from the Magical World, Hadrian

had

spent six years living like a Gryffindor. There were bound to be some characteristics that rubbed off on him.

“You’re meeting with your Slytherin friends tomorrow, yes?” Hadrian asked as Draco sipped his morning tea.

“I am,” Draco replied. Hadrian could tell Draco was still frosty about the wolves meeting. As soon as the words had left his mouth yesterday, Hadrian had known he had made a mistake. Draco didn’t know he was Hadrian’s mate. He didn’t understand that everything that was Hadrian’s was Draco’s too. So Hadrian taking over Slytherin house during the Hogwarts year would not mean taking Slytherin house away from Draco at all.

“I’m not taking it away from you,” Hadrian attempted to explain, “Slytherin house that is.”

“You’re not?” Draco scoffed, completely disbelieving.

Hadrian hesitated for a moment before continuing; “It’s more like it will be

ours

.”

Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion and Hadrian thought that, if he wasn’t the one in trouble right now, the look on Draco’s face would be extremely attractive. He was the one in trouble, however, so a change in the subject was needed. He’d bring the issue back up at a later date.

“Draco, darling,” Hadrian started again, willing himself not to get nervous, to look straight into his mate’s eyes, “I have something I want to give you.”

Draco, despite clearly being frustrated at the obvious attempt at deflection, was intrigued, and Hadrian quickly pulled out the necklace he had retrieved from his vaults yesterday. He placed the grape-sized silver pendant with the Peverell coat of arms emblazoned in black diamonds in Draco’s palm. “This acts as a portkey to the Manor, to your room specifically,” Hadrian explained, as Draco examined the piece carefully. “It’s charmed to protect you from minor jinxes and hexes and to protect your mind from invasion.

“I know that you’re more than capable of protecting yourself, Draco darling, but I needed you to have this before seeing your Slytherin friends,” Hadrian continued, folding Draco’s fingers around the pendant. He tried to ignore the inquisitive look Draco was giving him, to just plough through and get his entire explanation out before his mate could ask any questions. “I need to know you can get back here, quickly, if you get into trouble.”

“You

need

to?” Draco asked and Hadrian slumped his head onto his hands, still clasped around Draco’s.

“I don’t want to explain it to you now,” Hadrian groaned miserably. Draco ripped his hands out of his grasp at these words and stood, face furious, eyes blazing. 
“You don’t want to explain it?” Draco hissed, and if Hadrian thought he was in trouble before, that was nothing compared to now. “You’ve been flirting with me for a month now, Hadrian! Holding my hands, letting me touch you, making eyes at me while feeding, giving me a room in your family wing,” Draco exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch with every word he spoke. 
“You and Luna and the twins are always so cryptic, never giving me a straight answer, never telling me what exactly it is you want me to figure out, and that ends now! I want a straight answer from you Hadrian Peverell and I don’t want to hear another excuse or deflection or -” Draco let out a frustrated yell as he searched for more words to fling at Hadrian, who was sat, stunned, staring at his mate in mixed awe and fear.

It had been a long time since someone had spoken to him in such a careless way and Hadrian was honestly a little scared of the furious magic cascading out of the agitated blonde.

“And now,” Draco continued, thrusting the pendant towards a still stunned Hadrian, “you’re giving me protective jewellery and saying you

need

me to wear it so you’ll know I’m safe? I want to know what the bloody hell you

want

from me, Hadrian. For Merlin’s sake I’ve loved you since we were eleven but you have a

mate

out there somewhere and I just can’t take not knowing anymore!”

Hadrian stood and walked towards the now pacing Draco. “Okay,” he said, he’d do anything to stop the edge of pain that was creeping into Draco’s eyes. “Okay.”

Hadrian placed his hands on the other man’s shoulders, halting his mate’s movement and causing bright, frustrated silver eyes to meet his own. “I want you to know that I am in no way pressuring you to do anything,” Hadrian said, sincerity coating every syllable of his words. This was the most important thing. The idea that had stopped Hadrian from crowing that day, almost a month ago, that Draco Malfoy was his mate from now until eternity.

“I would

never

force you to do anything against your will and I need you to know that you have the final decision in all this,” he continued. Hadrian had been equal parts dreading and anticipating this day, because he was sure, so very sure, that Draco would think (even if it was only just a little) that the feelings projected through the mating bond would be just that; the bond. Hadrian was scared his mate would feel as if they were attracted to each other only because Hadrian’s biology said so, not because they genuinely and completely cared about each other.

Hadrian took a deep breath as if to steady himself and ran his hands down Draco’s arms, clasping his hands in his mate’s for comfort and strength. He looked directly into Draco’s eyes; “Draco,” he began again, “you know that I am going to live for a very long time, yes?”

Draco nodded impatiently.

“The moment we bonded, Luna’s life was directly linked to mine, so she will now live as long as I do,” Hadrian explained. “It is imperative for a living vampire to have at least his mate or donor bonded to him throughout the majority of his life. While it would not have killed me if Luna had rejected me or died before we bonded, the pain I would have felt at being incomplete for the rest of what could possibly be eternity, would have been immense. I would have been forced to choose another from which I would need to … acquire the blood I need to survive.”

Draco nodded his head yet again, hands still clasped tightly in those of the vampire before him. Hadrian had to remind himself to breathe as those silver eyes scrutinised his face so intensely. Wishing at once to be closer and yet so much further away from the being that held so much power over him.

“A living vampire’s donor is most important to him to keep his mind sharp. His donor is the one to make sure his long life does not leave him with failing mental stability and her blood will reinforce what her mere presence provides.” Hadrian spoke like a true teacher, Draco was hanging on his every word.

“His mate, however,” Hadrian said and squeezed Draco’s hands again, “is all the more important at keeping the living vampire alive. Not as a mere food source, but in spirit and soul and everything else. As soon as a living vampire meets his mate, he cannot choose another. Even if that mate were to die before completing the bond, or if the bond as a whole is rejected.”

Hadrian took another deep breath, blinking away the tears that had pooled in the corners of his eyes. He absently noted that Draco did not seem to be angry anymore. That was a good thing at least. “If the vampire does not complete the bond after he has met his mate, he will not die, but he will not

live

either. He will wither away and spend eternity trapped in a broken, greyscale world.”

Draco looked appropriately horrified and Hadrian realised he needed to say one more thing before releasing the final bombshell. “I’m not saying this to pressure you in any way, Draco darling,” Hadrian said just as sincerely as his whole speech had been. “It will always,

always

be your choice.”

“Are you saying -?” Draco started, and Hadrian nodded.

“Yes, Draco Malfoy, you are my mate.”

(Peverell Manor, Sunroom)

Oh.

That was all Draco could think as he clung desperately to Hadrian’s hands.

Oh

Merlin

.

It made sense now, he realised. All the innuendo from the twins and Luna. All the longing looks and touches from Hadrian throughout the past month. It all made sense if Draco was...

Draco had thought, because the vampire didn’t immediately sweep him off his feet like he did the tiny blonde seer, that he wasn’t Hadrian’s mate. He had thought the other man had just liked Draco before his creature inheritance and was lamenting the fact that he wouldn’t have Draco for all eternity. Pining in some annoyingly flirty way.

He had thought that some other person would be Hadrian’s mate while Draco was to be a distraction for the vampire while he waited for this other person to reveal themselves to him. He had never once expected that

he

was Hadrian’s mate. And as time went on and the vampire continued to remain silent on the matter, Draco was more convinced that Hadrian had no idea who it was.

This

was not something that Draco was prepared for.

It was welcome, he admitted to himself. Draco had not been lying when he had said he had loved Harry Potter since he was eleven. The past month getting to know the

real

Harry (Hadrian now, and Draco was very happy with the name change if nothing else) had only solidified his feelings for the other man. Had only made it even more clear to Draco that this brave, strong, intelligent individual was

it

for him.

Every other potential match for the Malfoy heir had been compared to and found lacking in the face of the brilliance that was Harry Potter (Hadrian Peverell really was far superior) and all that he had to offer anyone he was close to.

Still gripping Hadrian’s hands tightly with his own, Draco finally registered the look on the vampire’s face. His eyes were bright and shining with concern and what Draco could detect as quite a lot of hidden fear.

He understood now why Hadrian had been so reluctant to tell Draco the truth. It wouldn’t excuse him from Draco’s punishment, but he understood. Hadrian was scared of rejection. He was scared Draco would leave him broken and incomplete forever and, based on their former public animosity, Draco couldn’t blame Hadrian for that. Knowing all that the man had been through in his life, the betrayals and abuse he had endured, and the lack of trust Hadrian had in anyone but his wolves, Draco could understand the wait...

“Oh, Hadrian,” he said, squeezing Hadrian’s hands in comfort. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”

Then Draco pulled the vampire closer, their noses brushed, their breath mingled and Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off the burning emerald green in front of them.

“I would never say no to having

you

,” Draco breathed, before crashing his lips against Hadrian’s.

(

Sunday 20th July, 1997 :

Malfoy Manor, Draco’s Living Room)

There was something strange, Draco felt, about being back in Malfoy Manor. The white marble and gold finishings that dominated his upbringing were so different to the warm and wood tones of Hadrian’s home. The past month he had resided, mainly, in the family wing of Peverell Manor and, now that he was back in his childhood home, he found something was lacking. The manor was cold and impersonal in a way Draco had never noticed before.

Draco had always been an elitist. There was no point denying it (from the moment of his birth, he had been eating with literal silver spoons). Draco’s father had told him that he was a

Malfoy

and Malfoy’s are the epitome of class in every society and, despite everything that had happened since his entrance to the world of Hogwarts, (the revelations Rita Skeeter had published in the

Prophet

highlighted the privilege Draco had experienced over a surprising number of his Hogwarts peers) Draco was thankful he had been brought up in such a way. He had wanted for nothing throughout his childhood and for that Draco was extremely grateful.

Despite this, however, Draco had never realised how much he had missed out on.

The problem with the pureblood elite was the masks.

Draco’s father had taught his son from a young age to hide his emotions behind a blank mask of unflappability and mild disdain for the world around him. ‘Nothing must be seen to affect you Draco,’ Lucius had said, ‘because if it affects you, it can be used against you.’

Draco had taken this on board, like any good son, and had strived to act as though his status as a Malfoy made him too above the rest of the world for anything to change his bored countenance. Draco had always been fairly good at this; he kept his friends at a distance, his parents were admired only in the comfort of Malfoy Manor and any hurt was only expressed in the comfort of his locked bedroom. This had all changed, of course, the day he had officially met Harry Potter.

Something about the Boy-Who-Lived had made Draco’s masks fall. He suddenly found himself in the position where he was expressing anger and hurt and excitement and pride and a whole cocktail of emotions he had only ever expressed behind closed doors. Lucius had been disappointed, of course (the Malfoy heir was no longer seen as an untouchable member of society) but there was just something about Harry that made Draco

feel

.

Now, after spending so much time around Hadrian Peverell (possibly the only wizard more

pureblood

than a Malfoy) Draco understood a bit better. Where Lucius Malfoy had taught Draco to see emotions as a weakness others could use to exploit you, Hadrian saw emotions as a strength. He loved his wolves fiercely and openly and was confident enough in his own (and

their

own) power that he did not feel as if any threat they experienced because of their connection to him would be worse than never expressing that love in the first place.

Hadrian used his anger as a way to warn others off angering him again, thus making his life that much easier. He used his happiness and, frankly, childish excitability to ensure others underestimated his intelligence and cunning. He used his pain, sadness and hurt as a way to build inner strength and understand himself and his limits as an individual better.

It was an outstanding thing for Draco to realise after seventeen years of learning and perfecting just the opposite.

He knew it would be an unbelievable thing to attempt to explain to his friends as well. They, the Slytherins, had all been taught very similar lessons in their youth and no doubt only seeing and experiencing Hadrian Peverell and his wolves would convince the group of young nobility that there was another way of life.

“Draco!” Pansy exclaimed as she stepped gracefully from the floo in Draco’s living room. “It’s been an age, how are you darling?”

Draco fought the urge to cringe at the term of endearment as it came out of Pansy’s mouth. Despite the fact that Pansy had been calling everyone in their circle of friends ‘darling’ since she decided her mission in life was to be as elegant and demure as Narcissa Malfoy, it felt strange after a month of Hadrian’s constant use of the word.

“It’s been three weeks, Pansy, that’s hardly an age,” Draco replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, well, you’ve been unusually distant this summer, darling, and we’ve been worried,” Pansy said. Draco wasn’t surprised his friends had been meeting throughout the summer without him. The nine of them had spent at least one day a week with each other since they were five years old and all hid in the same alcove to avoid the old Lady Smith and her disapproving tutting and her judgement over the postures and eloquence of her grandson's generation.

“I’ve had an eventful month Pansy,” Draco said, his tone slipping into its usual causality. “There are more important things than shopping dates in Diagon Alley after all.”

Pansy’s face flickered with something like hurt, a thing Draco could only see due to twelve years of friendship and seeing the girl at her best just as often as her worst.

He knew Pansy understood Draco’s nature, (she knew the code Lucius Malfoy had ensured his son lived by after all) but there were times when Draco thought his friends were really only still with him through habit and familiarity. Draco would say something rude, disrespectful or just down right arrogant and he would see something flash through their eyes that he could never fully interpret. He had always assumed it was judgement of some kind. That the people he had called friends all his life disapproved of who he had grown up to be.

They had all developed so much as people over the years.

Pansy had chosen an esteemed, polite and wickedly clever society Lady to model her behaviour after who was

nothing

like her vapid, pompous mother.

Vince and Greg had become determined to make something of themselves

more

than the glorified bodyguards their fathers had always been for Lucius.

Daphne had put everything she had into learning the subtle and infinite arts of politics and she was well on her way to proving her father right for allowing her to become the first female Heir of a staunchly patriarchal line.

Millicent and Tracy had proven to every Slytherin who ever looked down on them that blood doesn’t matter. That being a half-blood doesn’t stop you from achieving top 10 placements in every class for six whole years of schooling.

Blaise had very publicly proven himself just as vicious and quick with both blade and wand as his mother was rumoured to be. He had displayed a loyalty to the man who gave him life and name that was found in very few of the ruthless elite world they lived in.

Theo had done most of them all, however. He had proven again and again that he didn’t have to be cruel, didn’t have to be loud and arrogant, didn’t have to be the biggest bully in the room to be successful. Theo had slunk his way into the position of Draco’s right hand through sheer cunning, willpower and an uncanny ability to see things that others passed over as unimportant. Theo had proven to Slytherin house these past six years, more than any of Draco’s circle of friends, that they didn’t have to grow up to be exactly like their parents.

Theo (and the rest of them if Draco was being really honest with himself) had been a quiet and often unacknowledged inspiration to Draco over the years. He had regularly wanted to publicly display how very

different

from his father he was. He had just never found the courage to do so. Perhaps spending so much time with a former Gryffindor would allow him to finally show himself to, at the very least, his friends?

As if summoned, Theo, Blaise, Daphne, Greg, Vince, Millicent and Tracey appeared shortly after one another in his floo and excused Draco from addressing his jab at Pansy. It would come back to bite him later, he knew, but Draco did not want to start this meeting off on a bad note.

“I’m glad you all could make it,” Draco started when they all had made themselves comfortable around his sitting room. “There has been a lot going on this summer and I have been informed of some very…” he paused, attempting to come up with the more appropriate word for the way Hadrian Peverell would take both Hogwarts and the world by storm, “

dramatic

changes this year at Hogwarts.”

“This has something to do with the return of the Peverells doesn’t it?” Blaise asked, curiosity shining in his eyes. Draco knew Blaise would get along

very

well with Hadrian. Perhaps too well. Their love for creating chaos could be disastrous if combined.

“Yes,” Draco stated simply. “I have met them both and Hadrian Peverell, especially, is aiming to create a certain amount of upheaval this year when he joins us in Slytherin.”

There were raised eyebrows and narrowed eyes from all his friends at this and Draco could only imagine what it was they were all thinking Hadrian had in store for the coming year.

“How well do you know this Hadrian Peverell, Draco?” Theo asked. “What exactly are his intentions?”

Draco paused for a moment in the face of his best friend’s narrowed gaze. There had always been something dangerous in Theo’s eyes whenever Draco or any of the others were threatened in any way. Draco was more than sure Hadrian could hold his own against Theo, however, he would prefer to avoid any conflict between his new partner and his old friends.

With considerable omittances, Draco described the last month to his friends. He outlined Hadrian’s titles both ‘inherited’ from Harry Potter and his own lineage. He described the frankly hilarious way Hadrian executed Harry Potter’s will, Peverell Manor itself and the elusive ‘Thomas Peverell’. Then he described, in its most basic form, Draco’s own relationship with man and the onslaught of emotions Draco was feeling but ill equipped to name.

“Then,” Draco said, “he plans to be King of Slytherin this year.”

There was an instant roar of protest from his ordinarily rigidly controlled friends and something in Draco warmed considerably in understanding. His friends were cursing the Peverell name for Draco’s honour and there was nothing that said loyalty like wishing death upon a friend’s enemy.

“He’ll be laughed out in the first month -”

“How dare he think himself better -”

“What kind of pompous, arrogant prick -”

“Operation: Peverell Downfall can be up and running in -”

Draco chuckled slightly at their indignation and his friends stared at him in combined shock and outrage.

“How can you laugh about this Draco?” Daphne asked. “Just because his last name is

very

old does not mean this upstart can just take your position away without a thought.”

“The Slytherins have respected and followed you for two years now,” Blaise continued. “How does this Peverell think he’ll even get away with it?”

Draco smiled around at his friends. They were all so concerned about him and it really was such a wonderful feeling for a boy who just minutes ago was doubting the legitimacy of their friendships. “Hadrian is prepared to share the ruling out of consideration for the house’s loyalty to me, but considering he

is

Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin I believe he at least deserves the chance to fail at ruling.”

His friends were smirking around him, completely believing Draco was just biding his time before Hadrian inevitably humiliated himself in front of the whole of Slytherin. Draco knew Hadrian would do nothing of the sort, but there was no way these friends of his would believe it before they saw and experienced Hadrian properly themselves. He was a natural leader and there was every indication in Draco’s mind that Slytherin would end up on top under his command.

“How did you meet him, anyway?” Tracey asked and this time Draco really did laugh.

“At a meeting with the Dark Lord,” Draco said without preamble and savoured the looks of shock on their faces.

“Oh,” Greg said, sharing a look of understanding with Vince, and Draco knew they had made the connection.

Draco laughed again, it was going to be an interesting year.