Chapter Text
Institute Facility– 8th Februari
The scent of blood and sterile alcohol filled Hadrian’s nose as he followed Dearil’s lead while they made their way through one of the facilities the Institute called their own, hiding their presence in the shadows. He could almost taste the despair of the magical creatures that had been dissected and dismembered by ignorant muggles, kept in cages far too small for them. The sounds of a jarvey whimpering in the corner of its cage reached his ears, its ears flat against his head, little legs tucked in tightly as it didn’t even dare bare its teeth at them. Many more cages surrounded them filled with creatures that Hadrian had found out had been bought on the black market, which apparently had made its way even in the magical world.
Hadrian’s hands curled into a fist as he watched those fearful creatures. They had been going to a few of these facilities now, hindering their investigation through sabotage and 'disappearing' the muggles mysteriously together with their research. He knew it frustrated these people to no end, especially since they did not seem to be able to figure out who had been behind it.
Oh, Hadrian was so glad to have his Reapers around. They most often were invisible to mortals, after all, making it quite easy for them to work in the shadows. He knew that Tom had created his own Faction of spies and assassins, taking inspiration from how effortlessly his Reapers had infiltrated the Institute. His Reapers had been glad to serve Hadrian, going beyond the pale to halt these people from finding out more about magic and how they could fight against it.
Hadrian looked around one last time, making sure they were alone, now that anyone who had been here had already been taken out. With a nod to Dearil, his Reapers spread out, either taken the cages in their entirety or carefully coaxing out the animals within. Hadrian himself stopped at a cage filled with a runespoor, its three heads hissing at each other as he approached it.
“Careful, brothersss, another one approachesss.”
“Will they want our venom again, brother?”
“Who knowsss, brother, perhapsss they will take our fangsss this time.”
Hadrian hid his smile as he reached the cage, listening to the heads complain about the treatment they had received. Runespoors were prideful creatures. To be locked up like this, in a metal cage without any trees to climb or rocks to curl around, it would have raised their hackles and hurt their vanity. That was not even talking about how it seemed the researchers of this facility had been harvesting it for everything the three-headed snake could offer them.
“Greetingsss, great ssserpent.”
The runespoor seemed to perk up, all three heads staring at him, one head with bright red eyes, the other with dark yellow ones and the last with a deep blue. The red-eyed one narrowed its slit, inspecting him with scrutiny. The yellow-eyed one seemed more curious, its head already moving forwards to inspect Hadrian. The blue-eyed one, however, seemed a bit lost in thought, not focusing at all on Hadrian, its head just having turned at hearing Hadrian’s voice.
“Ssspeaker?” The yellow-eyed one spoke, his head turning so one of those eyes could watch him more closely.
The red-eyed one tilted his head. “Yesss, a ssspeaker, how curiousss”
The yellow-eyed one moved forwards even more, the runespoors body moving with it. “Take usss away from here, ssspeaker! We wisssh to be removed from thisss place.”
The red-eyed one poked its snout against its brother. “Carefull, brother. He may be one of thossse that would wisssh to take our ssscales and venom.”
“He is no threat, brothersss. We ssshould go with him.” The blue-eyed one dreamily intervened.
Hadrian chuckled, reaching out for the latch of the cage. “I mean no harm, great ssserpent. If you wisssh it, I can take you to a place with warm rocksss and juicy rabbitsss.”
The three heads argued among themselves a little bit longer, the red-eyed one still suspiscious when they finally agreed to come with him.
“Very well, ssspeaker. But be aware, if you betray usss, we will bite you and inject you with our venom.”
Hadrian nodded his understanding and opened the cage, carefully reaching in his hand for the runespoor to curl around. When he finally turned away from the cage, the runespoor slithering its way up his body until it found a perch on his shoulders, he found his Reapers taking away the last of the cages.
Dearil approached him, then, bowing his head as those purple-golden eyes curiously took in the creature that had made its home on his shoulders, its three heads looking around inquisitively. “My Prince, there are only a few cages left. The rest are on their way to Lestrange Manor, where Lord Lestrange and his people have eagerly been taking in the magical creatures. We are ready for the next stage of the plan.”
Hadrian grinned fully now, looking around the now almost empty hangar. “Very well, prepare the circle.”
Dearil bowed once more before gathering a few of the Reapers. They quickly started drawing on the floor with charcoal, placing a few precious stones at seven points. Hadrian reached up a hand to pet the blue-eyed head when it curled forward, those deep-blue eyes watching the commotion with a sudden clarity.
“Make them pay for their actionsss, ssspeaker.”
“I will, great ssserpent.”
Six of his Reapers took spots around the now finished circle. With a slow pace, Hadrian made his way to his own position, taking in one last look around the building. His Reapers had already ransacked the offices that were attached to this hangar, copying and then burning all of the paperwork they had found there and destroying their computers and databases. Now they just had to make sure that whoever was responsible for all the hurt these creatures had faced would not be able to do so again.
That was what the circle was for.
Hadrian took his place at the head of the circle, taking his athame from its sheet where it hung from his belt. The silver blade shone in the dim light of the hanger, with runes carved along the dull edge, its white handle made out of a bone granted to him by an ancient thestral. His Reapers took out their own blades, each one created and designed to their owners’ preferences. With a quick movement, Hadrian cut his hand, red drops running down his palm and spilling onto the circle. His Reapers followed his movements, spilling their own blood, their wish for retribution and judgement on those that had been so cruel in their hunt for knowledge seeping into the red liquid.
The circle lit up, the magic in their blood fueling its potential. Hadrian spoke, his voice raw and low, the language of Death spilling from his tongue. The air chilled around them as his Reapers chanted with him, their voice becoming louder until they reached a pinnacle, the magic in the air finally spilling out into the building around them.
Hadrian let out a sigh as the circle burned brightly before dimming down, the charcoal now long gone and only a bit of dust left where the precious stones had been. No longer would these researchers be able to perform their experiments here. If they tried, they would find themselves in unfortunate accidents. Perhaps they would suddenly slip and fall down some stairs until their neck broke, or perhaps they would be hit by a car that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Death would become their judge, jury and executioner.
Satisfaction filled him now at a job well done, his Reapers hurrying to get rid of the few traces they had left. He was looking forward to having a long bath, perhaps a piece of treacle tart and a moment playing with his munchkin and little princess. Yes, he would have a nice afternoon relaxing with his family…
Suddenly, the connection he felt with one of his coven mates roared up in alarm.
… or perhaps not.
Ministry of magic – 8th of Februari
“Hello Mordred.”
Mordred blinked up at the two of them, his breath caught in his troath for just a moment, his heart standing still as the realization of being caught like a little kid stealing some cookies from the kitchen settled in. Only… he wasn’t a little kid… and he wasn’t just stealing a cookie. No, in his infinite wisdom he had decided to infiltrate the Ministry while following the trail of one of the most dangerous people Mordred had ever met.
He should not be facing this on his hands and knees.
Standing up, Mordred straightened his back, facing the one he had once revered, and another he had never met before. They stared at him with those too-blue eyes, as clear as the water of the lake of Avalon. The man rose to his feet as well, standing slight in front of the woman, hands lose by his side. They seemed so innocent, so… harmless, yet Mordred knew that those hands had rained lightning down on armies.
“Hello… Merlin.”
Merlin quirked an eyebrow, that stupid mask he had worn as King Arthur’s servant slipping so easily in place. It almost took Morded back in time, when he had been a young boy and Merlin had helped him escape death by fire, or when he had been a knight under King Arthur, wondering why Merlin had turned so hostile against him.
“Did you think I would really leave such an obvious trail behind?”
Mordred did not cringe. Nor did he answer such an obvious, stupid… gods, why had his curiosity overtaken him so?
“You know, I had thought that perhaps I had seen wrongly. I distinctly remember you dying by my King’s hand, yet here you stand, alive and well. Tell me Mordred, how did that come to be?”
For a moment, the sounds of war, of the middle of a battlefield filled with knights and the invaders Morgana had pulled together to fight against Arthur, of the clashing of swords and the roar of a dragon, filled his ears. Mordred remembered clearly, as if it was yesterday, how he had come across his King on that battlefield, still filled with grief over the death of Kara, the one he had loved, the one he had thought had been executed unjustly. It had been surprisingly easy, killing his King… though he did pay for it, being stabbed in the gut.
To this day, he still wondered the same question… how in Lord Time’s name had he survived?
“I am as unaware of why I am still alive as you, Merlin.”
Merlin hummed, eyes taking Mordred in as he stepped forward a little more, the woman now fully behind him. “I suppose it is possible for you to have survived that battlefield somehow, but then that does not explain how you survived the ravages of time.”
“I could ask the same about you.”
Merlin’s eyes locked with Mordred’s own, and the shear magic Mordred could see in them almost took his breath away. He felt so small for a moment, so insignificant in the face of all that power. It reminded him of Hadrian, almost, except for the fact that Hadrian’s magic always felt coldly welcoming. Merlin’s, on the other hand, felt tumultuous, like a storm in the making.
“I am Emrys. You know that, Mordred. It is what the Druids called me and you did grow up with them.”
Right, Emrys, immortal, eternal, undying… it was all the same thing really. The Druids had foretold his coming, magic incarnate, supposed to bring about the betterment of all things magical. Mordred had never really seen how Merlin could possibly achieve that, not after all the death and destruction Merlin had stood by, turning his head, not after how many times Arthur’s servant had watched and did nothing.
But now… he could not deny that Merlin was magic and magic was Merlin.
“Now tell me, Mordred. You have already killed the King. What are you doing here, in this time?”
Mordred shuffled on his feet, realization striking him again that he was somewhere deep underground, in a place he was not familiar with, with protections that Mordred did not know about. He really was in dire need of some back-up, wasn’t he?
Luckily, he did not even have to figure out how to call one of his coven mates, neither did he have to wait for them to find out where, exactly, he was, nor did he have to wait for them to make their way down the Ministry and into the maze that was this departement. No… it seemed one of his coven mates had already realized that he might be in a bit of distress, since the shadows suddenly seemed a lot darker, dancing and coiling in all kinds of ways. Mordred let out a breath of relief when they gathered together at different points in the room. His own shadow stretched as well, pooling together and rising up until a familiar face appeared next to him.
Merlin had watched on with wide eyes, the woman behind him rising to his feet as well. Magic now soaked the room, coming from two incredibly powerful sources. It was almost enough to suffocate him, if Mordred’s own magic wasn’t quite significant as well.
Mordred did have to blink in surprise though, because for some reason, a runespoor was curled around Hadrian’s shoulders. Hadrian himself looked a bit annoyed at first, those golden-green eyes taking in the room and its occupants before his face flattened out when he realized there was an actual threat in the room. Around them, the other shadows had taken the familiar form of Hadrian’s Reapers, their scythe’s ready in their hands.
His friend blinked a few times as he watched Merlin, Merlin looking astonished as he took in Hadrian in return.
“Uhm… who are you?” Merlin asked.
“I could ask the same of you.” Hadrian answered.
They stared at each other for a moment, Mordred feeling a bit out of sorts watching these two being in the same room. For some reason, the woman that had been standing behind Merlin decided to step away from her protector, waving a hand while she smiled. “I’m Robin, this is my father, Merlin.”
Hadrian blinked, stand loosening a bit. One of his hands reached up to stroke one of the runespoor’s heads, golden-green eyes now looking a bit hestitant as they turned to Merlin. “Merlin? As in…?”
Merlin loosened his stand as well, the magic slowly receding from the room, though not fully. He gave Hadrian a fool’s grin. “Yes, as in that Merlin.”
“Oh…”, Hadrian turned to Mordred, understanding slowly trickling into his eyes, “Oooh! That is… awkward.”
Right… Mordred put his palm to his face, letting out a sigh. “Hadrian.”
“Sorry! Just came from a mission dismantling one of the Institute’s facilities that were researching magical creatures. We did a ritual to punish them for harming those innocent animals… I might be feeling a bit loopy.”
Mordred looked at Hadrian again, seeing him sway on his feet a little. He blinked a few times, before he wrapped an arm around his waist, offering his coven mate some support. Hadrian leaned against him, giving him a soft smile.
“Hadrian… you say?” Merlin spoke, eyes looking between Mordred and Hadrian.
“Yes,” Hadrian answered, bowing slightly, “Hadrian Peverell, at your service. Well met, Merlin. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”
“Ah… a Peverell. Of course… That kind off explains the Reapers.” Merlin hummed, turning his head to watch the hooded figures that surrounded their charges. “Or… well, not really. Why are there Reapers?”
“Oh! I helped them come back to themselves after some wizard turned them into Dementors. Death was very grateful and allowed them to enter into my service.”
Merlin now had an astonished look on his face, and Mordred had to bite on his tongue when he realized that Hadrian was spilling his secrets so easily. He must be really out of it. Mordred couldn’t help but wonder what kind of magic he had been performing before coming here.
Oh well, he could at least try to warn his coven mate. “Careful, Hadrian.”
Hadrian turned again, those golden-green eyes blinking a few times. Mordred could now see the haze in them as well. His coven mate gave him a careless grin. “Ah, I might also have expended quite a bit of energy slipping through the Ministry’s wards… and those on this room. Really those on this room were a lot harder to get through… like the Ministry’s wards were just a piece of paper, but this room… that was like a ten meter wide steel wall.”
Merlin let out a chuckle. “Yes, I did put up quite some protections on this room. I’m honestly surprised you could get through them. Though hearing that you somehow were able to cure the Dementors, while I and the Department of Mysteries have been trying to find a way to do so for centuries and not succeeded… it isn’t that surprising in retrospect.”
“Ah! I broke to Merlin’s wards! Really! That is so cool!”
“Hadrian, I think I should take you home,” Mordred spoke, “Tom will be upset that you expended yourself like this without informing him.”
“Oh no,” Hadrian now looked very upset, “We should go home yes. Sorry, Merlin. I can’t have my soulmate upset.”
Merlin blinked a few more times his smile slowly fading of his face. “I can’t have you leave so suddenly, I’m afraid.”
Hadrian frowned. “Why not?”
“Well, Mordred…”
“Oh, yes! Mordred! And Merlin… Mordred and Merlin… right, that’s not good.” Hadrian stepped in front of Mordred. “You can’t hurt my coven mate! He is very sorry for what happened! I will not let you harm him.”
The Reapers around them brandished their scythes, ready to push ahead at a moment’s notice, or a word from their Prince. Merlin’s magic had risen again, the room once more a battlefield of those two powerful forces. Mordred watched with a bit of awe as gold met gold, sparks flying all around the room.
Merlin hesitated at the sight. “Modred is dangerous. He killed my King. I cannot have him running around freely.”
“But he is sorry, aren’t you, Mordred?” Hadrian turned big, pleading golden-green eyes to him.
Mordred grimaced but nodded. “I…,” He looked up at Merlin, cringing at those bright-blue eyes that had now turned a brilliant golden, “I am sorry, Merlin. There is no excuse for my actions. I tried to fix it. I tried to go back and change things but instead I ended up in the future. I… I’m sorry.”
Merlin seemed to waver again, eyes looking from Hadrian to Mordred. Then, the woman, Robin, laid a hand on his arms. “Wait, dad.”
Mordred watched with wariness as Merlin turned to his daughter. He was honestly still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Merlin had a daughter. The two seemed to enter a wordless conversation, but eventually Merlin stood down, his magic retreating once more. Hadrian seemed to realize that the threat was receding, his own magic slowly leaving the room as well.
Those bright-blue eyes turned to them again, and Mordred flinched at the grief and sadness he saw in them. “Leave, please.”
Hadrian didn’t hesitate at the demand, grabbing Mordred’s hand and engulfing them with shadows. As the shadows took them away, Mordred caught one more glimpse of them, Robin engulfing her father in her arms as tears dripped down Merlin’s face. The horribleness of his actions that day, when Mordred had killed the King, filled him once more, only the cold welcoming of the shadows and the grip of his coven mate, who had come to his aid through wards that had been put up by the most powerful Warlock Mordred had ever know, easing his mind just a little.
Peverell Keep – 8th of Februari
The weather was quite nice, so when Nagini and Sesha came to visit they had decided to take some tea in the gazebo that stood by the lake of the Keep’s garden. Hadrian was away at the moment, having some fun with his Reapers, so Tom was alone. Harebell and Hermoine had been very intrigued by the half-human half-snake when Sesha had appeared in their home. Sesha himself was overjoyed to see the next generation of the House of Slytherin, not minding at all when the little ones crawled all over his tail.
A satisfied sigh left him as he listened to the giggling and babbling of his little snakelings. The air smelled fresh because of the cold, the scent of tea and little cakes filling his nose. The lake seemed so calm, its surface only disturbed from time to time by a fish coming to the surface. The gazebo was warmed by magic, making it quite comfortable to sit here, as even if the weather was pleasant, it was still quite cold outside.
It was nice to have these little moments, away from the Knights that clamored for his attention at Slytherin’s Nest, the scheming politicians he faced at Wizengamot sessions, or even the biased opinions of Dumbledore’s cronies on the Board of Governors. It would be even more perfect if Hadrian were here, but Tom understood that his soulmate had been getting a bit antsy and needed to let some steam of. Tom was well-aware that if Hadrian set idle for too long, he would go looking for trouble himself. Most of the time, that did not end well.
Besides, Elder Sesha was his distant family, and helping Nagini was part of the favor that the Elder had asked of him. That didn’t change the fact that Nagini seemed completely enamored by little Harebell and Hermoine, walking along the paths of the garden with them as they pulled her this way and that.
Tom had already done the initial examination of Nagini’s curse, sending samples of her blood over to Headquarters where Rookwood was eager to set his mind on solving this problem. The convicted Unspeakable had been wanting to tackle something new after he had found a way for the other Knights that had escaped Azkaban to be able to walk around freely. Tom was sure that Rookwood would come up with the solution to this curse quite quickly, with how excited he had sounded in his reports.
Though, Tom had an inkling that Hadrian had an idea on how to solve this problem as well. He supposed if Rookwood didn’t come up with anything, his soulmate would speak up with some clever solution. Hadrian was quite practiced with blood magic, after all.
“The Council has been most appreciative to receive the invitation to visit Soteria,” Sesha interrupted his thoughts, “They have been quite curious. Their spies have tried to infiltrate before, but been unable to, so they are eager to see it for themselves.”
Tom lifted an eyebrow at the mention of spies, though a smirk settled on his lips when he heard that their wards had held up. “They are welcome to see Soteria and its people for themselves. Though, do warn them, if we do find any spies, we will deal with them accordingly.”
Elder Sesha nodded his head, a small smile on his lips. “Of course, we would expect nothing less from the Dark Lord.”
A chuckle left him. “Hadrian put up the wards around Soteria. The village is on his lands, after all. If anyone will be dealing with any spies, it will be him.”
Now, Sesha lifted an impressed eyebrow, those slitted eyes twinkling with mirth. “I see. You have found yourself a well-matched mate, then.”
Tom grinned. “I have.”
Then Harebell approached them, a crown of daffodils in his little hands, another crown already intertwined with his messy curls. Nagini and Hermoine were not far behind, flower crowns decorating their own heads. “Tomtom, look!”
Tom smiled fondly as he reached down to lift his snakeling up in his lap. He carefully took the crown and inspected it with a serious face. “It is very beautiful, my snakeling.”
“For you!”
His smile widened, handing the crown back to Harebell and bending down his head. His snakeling eagerly put the crown on his hair, patting Tom’s cheek to signal that he was done. Tom tilted his head this way and that. “How do I look?”
Harebell grinned, those green eyes alight with joy. “Pretty!”
“Daddy!”
Tom turned to his little princess, lifting her to sit on his lap as well. It was a bit of a tight fit, his two little toddlers on his lap, but he made it work. His little girl pushed her hands up, some kind of herb in his face. “Look, rose…ma’y, for feeling good!”
Tom held in a snort, and took the bud of rosemary in his hand, smelling its sweet scent. Of course, his little princess would be more interested on how flowers and herbs could be used than making some flower crowns. “Indeed, my princess.”
Nagini had a bit of an awkward smile on her face. “The princess was asking quite a lot of questions about all the flowers in the garden. Sesha’s Naga clan have thought me quite a bit about them, so I tried my best to teach them a bit. I hope you do not mind.”
Tom shook his head, clutching his snakelings closer as they babbled with each other. “I do not mind, Nagini. Thank you for indulging them.”
Elder Sesha let out a chuckle accepting his own flower crown from Nagini. “Well, at least we all match now!”
Now Tom did let out a snort. Oh, he really wished Hadrian was here, he would have loved the sight of them all with their crowns. Tom would have to ask his little snakelings to make another crown for Hadrian when he came back home, so his soulmate wouldn’t feel left out. A soft smile settled on his face as he imagined Hadrian coming home, Harebell eagerly offering a crown of daffodils to his soulmate.
Suddenly, he felt the link he had with Hadrian flare up, his soulmate’s magic seeming to pull on his own as Hadrian, for some reason, used quite a lot of his own reserves. Tom frowned with worry, rubbing a hand over his chest at the tight feeling, pushing some of his own magic to his soulmate. What was going on? Why was Hadrian using so much of his power?
Elder Sesha seemed to notice that something was wrong. “Thomas, everything alright?”
“Yes.” Tom said, looking up with a calm smile on his face. The little ones in his lap looked up at him, Hermoine blinking those brown eyes at him in question, Harebell reaching out to pull at his robes. “Just Hadrian getting into trouble. He has back-up with him, though, so I’m sure he will be fine.”
And if those Reapers really did not stop his Hadrian from being hurt, he would be having words with them.
Elder Sesha didn’t seem to believe him fully, but nodded, and turned to Nagini to continue their conversation. Tom listened on while he half-focused on Hadrian’s end of the bond. He was debating if he should go check on his soulmate. Hadrian had told him the location of the facility he was ransacking, so Tom could easily pop over to see if he was alright. Maybe those researchers had come up with something to fight against magic that even Hadrian hadn’t been prepared for? What if his soulmate was stuck in some trap? What if those monsters tried to dissect his Hadrian?
Tom rose on his feet, carrying the little ones on his hip as he turned towards Elder Sesha and Nagini. “Apologies, but I need to check on something…”
Then he felt Hadrian’s presence pass through their wards, and Tom let out a sigh when he realized that his soulmate was safe, that he was back home. There was another person with Hadrian, but Tom recognized the magical signature of Mordred, so he did not worry.
“Tom?”
With a start, he turned to Nagini, who had risen to her feet as well. She looked a bit worried as well now. He gave her a reassuring look. “Hadrian just got home. I should go check on him.”
Elder Sesha nodded, rising as well as he leaned on his staff. “Then we should go head inside.”
Nagini took Hermoine from him, freeing one of his arms as he settled Harebell more safely in his arms. He led the way through the garden paths, taking the shortest route back to the Keep. He still felt Hadrian’s and Mordred’s presence in the receiving room. His mind wondered what had happened, and why Mordred had come with him as well.
They quickly made it back inside, Tom’s pace getting faster the closer he got to his soulmate. He entered the receiving room, his eyes locking on Hadrian’s form as it sagged against Mordred, a runespoor for some inexplicable reason scrawled over Hadrian’s shoulders. Dearil was hovering around the pair, hands fluttering as he cast diagnostic spells at his Prince.
Tom felt his magic spill out of him as he watched his soulmate’s slumped form. Sesha quickly took Harebell from him as Tom hurried towards his Hadrian. Those golden-green eyes looked up as his soulmate felt his magic, a loopy and tired smile on his face.
“Tom!”
“Hadrian,” Tom snatched his soulmate from Mordred’s hold, looking him over for any signs of wounds, “What happened?”
It was Mordred who answered. “It was my fault. I followed a trail into the Ministry. I… I should have known that Merlin wouldn’t be so obvious. It was a trap.”
Tom’s head snapped towards Mordred, grey eyes growing darker with his fury. “A trap?”
Mordred bowed his head, shuffling on his feet. “Yes, I’m sorry Tom. Hadrian must have felt my distress because he followed after me. If I hadn’t been so careless this wouldn’t have happened.”
Hadrian wilted in his arms, curling himself into Tom’s form, head leaning against the hollow of Tom’s throat. “I’m fine!”
Tom turned to Dearil, who had a guilty expression on his face. “Is he hurt?”
The Reaper kneeled, bowing his head. “Just magically exhausted, my Lord. The Prince broke through some of the most powerful wards I have ever seen, though they were no match for Death’s Childe.”
Tom hummed looking down into those golden-green eyes of his soulmate. They were wide and dilated, Tom clearly seeing the effects of magic-exhaustion. A sigh left him, waving a hand to Dearil to make him stand again. His soulmate would need some rest, and perhaps some magic restoring potions. He could easily handle that himself.
Though, there was still the fact of what Mordred had said. “You said… Merlin was behind this?”
The weariness and misery were clear on Mordred’s face as well. “Yes.”
Tom took in a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as he debated what the hell he was supposed to do with this information and why he was surrounded by idiots who attracted danger like flies. “And do you think he is able to follow you?”
Mortification appeared on Mordred’s face. “I…”
Great, fantastic, superb. He had one of the most powerful people in the world after his soulmate and they might be able to wiggle their way through their wards. He turned towards Dearil, magic twisting and twirling around him in his anger and anxiety. “Prepare the war-wards, warn your Reapers and the warlocks send by the temple. Expect the unexpected.”
The Reaper bowed his head and strode outside, the others following behind their leader. Then Tom turned to Sesha and Nagini, who were still carrying Hermione and Harebell in their arms. “I’m sorry to disturb our afternoon, but I think it is best if you leave now.”
The naga scoffed, hand tightening around his staff. “If you think I will leave when a danger has been made clear to you, then you do not know me. You are family, Thomas. We protect our family.”
Tom nodded, even if he wanted to grit his teeth. He appreciated the sentiment, though it rang a bit hollow considering the naga had not deemed to step in when Tom had grown up in a war-torn orphanage. No matter, he wouldn’t deny the protection such a powerful being could offer, not when literal Merlin was coming after them.
“Ver well,” Tom looked down again to see that his soulmate had fallen asleep, “Then I will bring Hadrian upstairs. Why don’t you bring the little ones to the drawing room. I’m sure the house-elves have left their toys there so they can play a bit more.”
The Elder nodded, and then they disappeared down the hallway. Another sigh left Tom as he reached down to lift Hadrian in a bridal carry. He turned to Mordred, who looked remorseful and crushed. “Why don’t you join Elder Sesha and Nagini, Mordred.”
Mordred looked up. “I’m sorry, Thomas.”
“It’s fine,” Tom shook his head, “Well… it’s not fine. But we will be alright.”
Mordred gave him a rueful smile and nodded, turning to follow after the Elder and Nagini. Tom watched him go, his anger fading now that he was alone with his Hadrian. It didn’t took long for him to reach their bedroom and to tuck his soulmate into their bed. His Hadrian snuffled in his sleep, reaching out to clutch Tom’s sleeve when Tom moved to leave. A fond smile crept on Tom’s face, and he reached out to tuck a hair behind Hadrian’s air as he sat down on the bed. He summoned some restoring potions and spelled them into Hadrian’s stomach, who let out a satisfied sigh, his face relaxing even more. Tom debated going downstairs or staying here, and eventually just laid down next to his Hadrian, clutching him close.
He could deal with dangerous Merlins later.
Grimmauld place – 9th of Februari
Their childhood home had definitely seen better days. Dust covered almost every surface, their steps leaving a path behind them. Cobwebs hung in the corners of ceilings, spiders of the magical and non-magical kind finding their home and eating the bugs that had crawled into the walls. It seemed the wards had even faltered at keeping rain out, one wall now moldy from the humidity that had soaked into it.
Sirius was surprised this place had fallen so quickly, wondering if it had been happening for a while, rotting while their mother was in charge of the place, or if Grimmauld place had finally collapsed when she was taken away from it. He knew that the house-elf that had been so loyal to their mother had disappeared, at least, leaving no one in charge of keeping the house in a good state.
He ran a hand over the tapestry that hung in the drawing room, stopping at the scorched out part where his name had once been. His little brother was behind him, watching impatiently for Sirius to finish here. They had been tasked by their Grandfather to take stock of their London home and replenish the wards before the Goblins could be hired to restore the place.
Kicked up dust floated in the gloomy light as Sirius finally turned away from the tapestry, sneezing and scrunching his nose in distaste at the fireplace were fire-salamanders had made their home. Regulus was leaning against the doorway, inspecting his nails with a careless expression. It almost seemed like the disarray around them didn’t affect him, but Sirius knew his little brother, could see the tension in his shoulder and the tightness around his quick-silver eyes.
With a sigh, Sirius walked towards him, clasping his shoulder and giving his little brother a grin. “Shall we do this then?”
Regulus rolled his eyes at Sirius’ perkiness, leaning into his hold for a moment before shrugging of his hand. The floor creaked beneath his feet as he led the way forward, not looking back to see if Sirius was following him. Sirius shook his head fondly, giving one last look at the tapestry before heading after his little brother.
He caught up with Regulus soon enough, climbing the stairs and walking down a hallway until they reached their father’s study, passing a row of shrunken house-elf heads which Sirius could only scrunch his nose at again. He really didn’t understand their families obsession with that practice, and would be more than glad to get rid of the display.
Entering the study, Sirius coughed and sneezed again as dust was kicked up by the opening door, waving a hand in front of him to get rid of the particles. That was when he felt a dark presence in the corner of the room, and Sirius could see Regulus’ shoulder pulling back, wand slipping out of his holster and pointing it at the creature there. Sirius was quick to follow, slipping out his own wand and positioning himself in a dueling stance.
When the creature turned into an inferni, eyes hollow, pieces of skin falling of its face, nails black and torn, and Sirius saw Regulus’ face pale, his eyes widening and breath coming shorter, he realized that they were dealing with a boggart.
Typical.
“Ridiculus!”
The inferni turned into a fake-Barty, with dirt and mud in his hair and on his cheeks, smiling widely with an equally dirty puppy in his hands. Sirius saw Regulus breathe in deeply, letting out a chuckle at how the fake-Barty was excitedly petting the little crup despite its state of filthiness, and Sirius knew he had chosen well. Regulus pointed his wand at the thing as well, banishing it into a closet that stood in the corner of the room and locking the door.
If he received a bit of a stink-eye for using his little brother’s Intended like this, well… Sirius could live with it.
They made their way to the floor to ceiling portrait of one of their ancestors, a namesake of his, actually. Sirius Black the First looked at them imperiously, his portrait still remarkable intact compared to the rest of the house.
“Finally, you’ve come.” He said.
Regulus looked at him silently for a moment, Sirius shifting on his feet as he waited for his little brother to move. Regulus was the Heir Black, after all. He was responsible for taking care of their House, making sure that their properties were in order and their family was taken care off. Sirius was just here as back-up.
“Lord Black,” Regulus nodded to the portrait, “We are here to inspect the wardstone.”
Sirius the First lifted his nose up in the air, looking down at them with disappointment. “Well, of course you have. This home has been in disorder for far too long, it is about time you finally dealt with it.” Then those silver eyes, that looked even more like liquid metal than either of Sirius’ or Regulus’ eyes, turned to him. “Do I do wonder, aren’t you the eldest? Why are you not the one with the Heir Ring?”
Sirius bowed his head, knowing that even if he wasn’t exactly interested in upholding the practices of their House, he still respected the powerful Black Lords of old. “My brother is a far better Heir than me, my Lord.”
The First Sirius sniffed, those silver eyes trailing over Sirius and then inspecting Regulus. It took all Sirius had to not scowl his face as those eyes seemed to judge his entire life’s choices.
“We shall see.” He finally said.
Regulus stepped forward then, cutting his palm with his wand and putting the bloody surface on the right side of the surface. He smeared the red liquid there, before pulling back his hand and pressing the Heir Ring into the divot that could be found there. Dark blue magic filled with silver specks seemed to leak out of the portrait, curling itself around Regulus’ hand and crawling up his arm, over his shoulders until it rested over his heart. Sirius watched on curiously as Regulus closed his eyes, that dark blue magic seeming to crawl under his little brother’s skin. Eventually, it retreated, Regulus opening his eyes again, though they seemed a brighter silver than they had been before.
The portrait opened like a doorway, showing them the beginning of a stairways that led deep into the earth. Regulus’ back was straight as he walked forward, not hesitating a moment as he started down the stairs. Sirius glanced one more time at the portrait, who had now fallen asleep, before he followed after his little brother.
Torches that hung on the wall lit up as they passed, flickering out again when they walked out of sight. The stairway turned and turned, taking them into a downwards spiral, the walls getting blacker and blacker. Eventually they reached the end, silver spots like stairs imbedded in the walls now, the torches long replaced by the low light they emitted.
They found themselves into a great cave, stalactites hanging down from the ceiling precariously and stalagmites rising up with sharp edges. In the center of the cave, they found a large formation of stone, runes carved into it, precious diamonds and sapphires placed at intervals. In the middle of the formation was a sizable moonstone, its surface rippling blue and white.
Sirius stared at it all with wide eyes, his breath taken away for a moment at the beauty of it all. It was said that the wardroom at Castle Black was even grander than this one, and Sirius couldn’t help but wonder how that could be.
His little brother stepped forward again, walking towards the stone in the middle of the cavern, careful to avoid the stalagmites. Sirius couldn’t help but follow again, stopping on the opposite side of his brother when they reached the stone. Regulus looked up, quick-silver eyes locking with quick-silver, and raised the hand that he had cut, still bleeding.
Sirius nodded, raising his own hand and cutting it as well before he linked his fingers with his little brother. The blood of two members of the House of Black, one its Heir and one its previous Heir-presumptious, fell onto the stone. The moonstone soaked in the blood, its white and blue sheen turning red.
Regulus spoke then, his voice echoing in the cavern. “I, Regulus Black of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Heir to this great House, give you this blood. I raise the wards, I replenish the protections, I order you to do as you have been tasked, to protect the House of Black, to nurture the members of the House of Black.”
Dark blue magic rose from the stone as the red shine slowly disappeared, Sirius feeling his own draining as more and more of it appeared. It floated into the air, lighting up the cavern a bit more, surrounding them both. Then it coalesced, strands blending together until a great raven formed, its silver eyes looking at them both. It flew around them, letting out a cry before it dove down into the stone again.
Regulus let go of his hand, leaning against the stone for a moment. His eyes were closed as he took in deep breaths, and Sirius was quick to walk around the stone to offer his brother some support. The air around them had warmed as Regulus leaned against the arm Sirius had thrown around his shoulder. Those quick-silver eyes opened up again, looking at Sirius with tired eyes.
He gave his little brother an assuring smile. “It will be fine, Reggie. Let’s get you back to Castle Black.”
Regulus nodded, leaning his head against Sirius’ shoulder for a moment before Sirius could half-carry his little brother out of that room and up the many stairs. They eventually reached the study again, the portrait door closing behind them and locking up once more. Sirius looked back at it as he hurried his brother out, locking his eyes with Sirius the First who was watching them with a thoughtful expression.
A shiver ran down Sirius spine as those too-silver eyes looked at Regulus, the weight and solitude in them scaring him to his bones. Regret filled him for a moment when Sirius realized that he had pushed all these duties of being the Heir on his little brother. Perhaps he shouldn’t have put so much weight on the one he had promised to protect from the moment he had seen his little brother in his crib, but then again, this is what Regulus wanted, and who was Sirius to stand in the way of his little brother’s dreams?
Diagon Alley – 13th of Februari
It had been a few days since Hadrian had possibly angered one of the most powerful people in history, and his headache was still persisting. There had been no attacks on their home, luckily, nor were there any signs of anyone snooping around. Still, they kept their wards at full strength, ready to protect their sanctuary. His Reapers had been patrolling the boundaries of the property with more fervor than Hadrian had seen before. Elder Sesha and Nagini had made their selves at home too, the naga adding his own magic to the wards. Strangely enough, Nagini and Mordred had formed some sort of bond, spending time in the library or wandering the garden together.
Hadrian had woken up the day after facing literal Merlin with his entire body on fire. When he had followed Mordred’s distress signal and found his coven-mate behind a wall of wards, Hadrian hadn’t hesitated a moment to push through them. It had taken more than Hadrian had thought it would, but he didn’t regret it, not even when it was difficult for him to stand.
Tom had been the most attentive the last few days, making sure Hadrian had everything he needed while he recovered. Magic restoring potions had found a spot at his bedside table, Tom feeding him nutritional foods, and some extra special treats, to help him heal. The little ones seemed a bit confused why Hadrian had stayed in bed so much lately, but they were quite happy to cuddle with him during naps.
Eventually, Hadrian felt well enough to get out of bed and take some walks in the garden again, his magic now having fully restored itself. The fear that Merlin would break down their door had slowly abated as well, though that didn’t mean their issues had been solved. Mordred had been very apologetic for what had happened, Hadrian having to reassure him that he didn’t blame his coven-mate, though he would have appreciated if Mordred had warned him a bit earlier about this possibility. Now they had to wonder when Merlin would contact them again, because they all knew he would. The silence remained, however, so they returned to their usual routines again.
That was until the letter came.
Not from Merlin. No, it seemed the warlock was still keeping away. The letter came from another source of worry that had been living in the back of Hadrian’s head.
The Potters.
The letter included an invitation to meet with them in a high end hotel located in Diagon Alley that offered neutral meeting places for anyone to engage in… tenuous conversations. After hearing how the Potters had faced Alice, Dumbledore and even the Minister, Hadrian couldn’t help but feel his panic rise. He knew from what Alice had told him that the Potters just wanted to see their nephew and make sure he was alright. He knew from their argument with Dumbledore that they would never side with the Headmaster. He knew from their discussion with the Minister that they already knew enough to suspect Hadrian… or well… a distant family member, as they called it.
There was no real way to deny them this meeting without making matters worse. Hadrian would never want to keep his munchkin away from his blood family without good reason, and his reasons for keeping Harebell away from the Potters had been slowly running out. So, they had send a letter back, accepting the invitation.
At least he had Tom with him.
The hotel itself, called the Dreaming Dragon, was elegantly furnished. The interior mainly consisted of red, white and black furniture, the ceiling covered by a mosaic of a dragon sleeping on some clouds. The counter at the end of the entry hall held positions for three attendants, two were already busy with guests, so Hadrian and Tom made their way to the third one. On the right they could hear the chatter and the soft clinging of utensils that were consistent with the atmosphere of a restaurant, while on their left were some marble stairs covered with a red stair runner. The attendant looked up when they approached, clothed in a red and black uniform, her blond hair tied back in a tight knot. Her eyes widened as they reached the counter, Tom sliding over their invitation.
“We have a reservation.”
“Of course, Lord Gaunt!” She took the letter with a wary look on her face, and Hadrian had to hide his smirk at the intimidation she must feel being around Tom, political leader that he is. He did admire her professionalism, though, when her face smoothed over into a respectful expression. Hadrian supposed in such a high end hotel that she saw quite a lot of powerful people.
She looked over the letter, ringing a bell that stood on the counter. “Someone will be here soon to escort you to your room, my Lord. You may wait on the couches if you wish.”
Hadrian turned towards the sitting area that stood near the stairs, tugging on Tom’s elbow to take a seat. It didn’t take long after they sat down for a maid to come forward from a door behind the counter. She stopped in front of them and bowed.
“I will show you to your room, my Lords.”
Tom nodded, the both of them rising from their seat and following the maid as she led them up the stairs and down a hallway until she stopped in front of a door with a blue dragon painted on it. She opened the door, bowing slightly to let them enter. “The blue room, my Lords.”
They entered finding their hosts already there. The maid closed the door behind them, leaving the four of them alone in the room. Hadrian took them in, Raymond Potter in robes consistent with what a Lord Potter would wear, a dark burgundy lined with white and the sigil of a hippogriff embroidered on his chest. Next to him, Benjamin wore an even darker red robe, black accents on his shoulders and down the sides of his robes. Raymond stepped forward, bowing his head.
“Lord Gaunt,” Then he turned to Hadrian, those light brown eyes burrowing into his own, “Lord Blackwing… Peverell.”
Hadrian froze, Tom stiffening beside him, eyes narrowing into those of the Potter Lord. Before he could say anything more, though, Raymond kneeled in front of him, Benjamin following close behind. “Apologies, my Lord. We were not sure of the truth. It has been decades since a Peverell Lord has walked this earth. We had thought the House had died out. It is an honor to be in your presence.”
Well… Hadrian couldn’t help but relax slightly. “How did you know?”
Raymond rose his head, brown eyes gazing with a bit of wonder at him. “We are your sworn Vassals, my Lord. We would recognize you anywhere, we are your sworn shields, after all. Besides, we know the secrets that lie behind the Blackwing name. Our apologies for doubting you, my Lord.”
A snort came from Hadrian’s left, and he couldn’t help but turn his head to glare at Tom. His soulmate was looking with an amused sight at the scene, those dark grey eyes gleaming with laughter. With a sigh, he turned back to the Potter Lord, waving a hand for them to stop kneeling. He dragged his cheeky soulmate to the couches that had been laid ready, sinking into them as he poked Tom in the side. Still, Hadrian couldn’t help but remain on edge a little, remembering how the Potters had played the Minister so easily. He kept his eyes on Raymond and Benjamin as they sat down on the couch opposite them.
“So… you wished to meet?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Raymond said, “We have our suspicions, but… is it you that has Harry?”
Hadrian lifted an eyebrow. “You understand that many people are trying to find him to manipulate him?”
“I am aware, my Lord,” Raymond nodded his head, “The Headmaster’s interest alone is a matter of concern, but to also have the eye of the Ministry on him is problematic.”
“And so, if I insist on gaining custody of him, would you object?”
Raymond shifted in his seat, glancing to his brother. “We would like to see him first, to get to know you to make sure that you would be a good parent for our nephew. Though, we understand you hold primacy over the House of Potter. So, in truth, if you insist on keeping custody over Harry, there is not much we can do.”
Hadrian hummed, clasping Tom’s hands in his for reassurance as he eyed the two Potters in front of him. He knew that in another life, the life he had first lived with all its pain and death, he would have loved to have these two in his life. It saddened him now, to have seen these two come all across the world, to face friend, foe and allies, just to try and find their lost family. He would have killed to have someone as loyal as these two to take care of him, to take him away from all the people that wished to manipulate him.
There had been no American Potters for him to lean on, however, so he had needed to face all his challenges alone.
Raymond seemed to have seen something in his silent pondering. “We are family, my Lord, bound by blood. We would never bring harm to Harry.”
“Harebell. Lilly and James named him Harebell.” Hadrian finally said.
He saw the joy and hope in Raymond’s eyes, quickly hidden behind caution. The Potter Lord sat forward. “Is he alright, my Lord? We heard the Dark Lord himself turned his wand on him. Are there any long-lasting effects of what happened?”
“The Dark Lord cast the killing curse on him. It was only through Lilly’s efforts in blood magic and her sacrifice that Harry was able to survive,” Next to Hadrian, Tom shifted a bit in his seat, probably uncomfortable with the topic of his own defeat,” There was some residue left in him, but I have I taken care of it. Harebell is a perfect healthy boy.”
Raymond let out a deep sigh, bowing forward, leaning his arms on his knees. “Thank you, my Lord.”
“You should know that Dumbledore left him on Petunia’s doorstep in the middle of the night. He did not even put a warming charm on him, nor did he deign to inform Petunia face-to-face about what had happened to her sister. He did nothing about the cut that had been made on Harebell’s forehead, nor did he even try to get rid of the residue. Even worse, he cast mind-manipulating spells on the Dursley’s home. From what I can tell, for some reason, the Headmaster wanted Harebell to grow up abused and unwanted.”
Raymond has risen from his seat now, pacing in front of the windows of the room. His magic was sparking off of him in his fury as Hadrian spoke. Benjamin was no better off, hands clasped tightly on the edge of the couch he was sitting on. The Potter Lord turned to him. “Why have you not gone to the authorities with this yet?”
“Dumbledore is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW. He has been hailed as the defeater of Grindelwald and the Leader of the Lyght. I may be Lord Peverell, but people have no idea who I am or what I am like. To them it would be like I appeared out of nowhere. Dumbledore could have easily discarded any proof I bring forward. We are in a better position now, with allies in the Ministry. Believe me, we are gathering evidence until we have enough that no one can deny his guilt.”
Raymond’s eyes flickered to Tom then. “I see. Though, I do have to wonder, why is the Dark Lord here and why have you taken him as your Intended? You talk about Harry and his enemies, but you seem to forget the one who has recently killed his parents.”
Hadrian stiffened, his magic pulsing underneath his skin. Before he could say anything though, Tom rose from his seat, Raymond and Benjamin instantly on alert. They watched with surprise, however, as Tom kneeled, lowering his head until he touched the floor.
“You have my deepest apologies for my actions,” His soulmate said, and Hadrian honestly was feeling a sense of déja-vu with how many times Tom has had to do this. “There are no excuses for what I have done. I can only give you an explanation of my state of mind. In my youth I performed a dangerous ritual that slowly took away my sanity. Hadrian is the one who helped me regain my mind and bring me to my senses. It is now only with horror that I look upon what I have done.”
The wind seemed to have been blown out of Raymond’s sails. Hadrian supposed having a Dark Lord bow to you would be quite perplexing, especially when he was apologizing.
“Please, get up, Tom.” Hadrian said. His soulmate hesitated, glancing towards the Potters. Raymond nodded with a grimace, Benjamin standing up to be beside his brother. Tom retook his place by Hadrian’s side, Hadrian taking his hand in his when those dark grey eyes looked at him with sorrow.
Hadrian knew how much Tom regretted the things he had done in their first life. It had taken centuries for Hadrian to assure Tom that he didn’t blame him any longer. Being here, reliving it all, it must be so hard on him.
“So, you have a pet Dark Lord then?” Raymond said, and Hadrian turned to glare at him.
“He has a name, and he is my soulmate. You will treat him with the respect that comes with being the Peverell Consort. I understand that you will always feel animosity for him, but you will not harm him or disparage him while I am present or in public. Is that understood?”
Raymond bowed his head, anger still in his gaze though a curious frown was on his forehead. “I understand.”
Hadrian rubbed a hand across his face, calming down a bit. “I know the circumstances aren’t ideal. I know we have only just met, but I hope we can be amicable with each other. For Harebell’s sake.”
Raymond was silent for a while, contemplating them both with his lips in a tight line. Eventually, he nodded. “For Harebell.”
“Tom will not harm you, nor will he harm Harebell. He will help us bring Harebell’s enemies down, however. You can see it as repentance for his actions.”
Raymond nodded again, pulling on Benjamin’s arm so they might retake their seats. “Will we be able to see him soon?”
“We can arrange a date for you to see him. There is this little café where we like to meet with Alice. Have you heard of the Niffler’s Corner?”
Raymond blinked a few times, tilting his head. “I have not, but I’m sure it will be easy enough to find.”
“It’s in one of the side-streets of the Alley, Menagerie Alley.”
“Right,” Raymond smiled, “When would you be available?”
“We will be quite busy tomorrow and the day after,” Hadrian said, watching the wariness still present in Raymond’s posture, “Perhaps the 16th?”
Raymond reached out to clutch his brother’s hand. “That works for us.”
“Then it’s a date.”
He would give them a chance, but if they turned on him, Hadrian would be quick to eliminate the threat to his little family.