Chapter Text
31 October 1981
Thunder broke the stillness of the night and with a frown, the aged wizard raised his head to study the heavy cloud formation, unconsciously brushing the greying, wild hair from his collar.
Dark, angry clouds agglomerated together in an attempt to block the moon, resulting in an endless, starless swath of black.
The wind gave sound to the eerie sight as if sensing the sky’s protests and gusty howls intermingled with low whistled moans.
It was Samhain indeed…
His mind reviewed the strategy he would employ to gain victory and save his grandsons while he closed the windows.
His son and daughter-in-law left an hour ago for an urgent meeting and he couldn’t be more thankful.
Rage filled him anew as he thought about the bastard, nestled within the Order of The Phoenix’ ranks, who betrayed his best friends, but he pushed the anger aside.
He would have his vengeance after he was done with his duty. Only then, he would allow his rage to go unchecked.
Only then he would kill the traitor.
If he didn’t survive the night, he would haunt the rat for all eternity for he knew that the truth would be revealed no matter how much time it might take.
The Potter Battle Magic simmered under his skin, answering its Lord's call and looking for an outlet.
His Yew and Griffin Heartstring wand burned in his palm eager to face and hopefully end the monster who threatened his grandsons, his blood, his legacy.
James and Lily were attending another Order meeting and the responsibility of defending his family fell on his shoulders.
It was his duty, his privilege and he wouldn’t deny Hadrian and Henry a thing, his life included.
The wards wavered again. It seemed that the bastard was working his way inside stealthily, like the slimy earthworm he was.
Fleamont knew that the toughest fight of his life was about to start. He was a Potter and Potters were very, very old friends with the battlefield.
They were Death’s most avid friends, too. He was their beginning and their end. Every Potter would embrace Death like an old friend when their time came.
Lord Fleamont Henry Potter regretted being denied the chance of guiding his son diligently.
James was still but a young man, and Lily despite her astounding qualities, wasn’t too well-versed in the different intricacies of their culture.
Fleamont took one last look at Hadrian and his heart clenched with sadness.
He was about to leave the Potter future in the tiny hands of his beloved grandchild and despite the bond he forged four years ago with his first grandson, remorse and sorrow filled him for departing too soon.
Hadrian was, beyond a shadow of doubt, the future of the Potters.
Dumbledore could talk all that he wanted about the child born ‘when the seventh month ends’, about Henry being Voldemort’s target and the Chosen One but Hadrian was the key.
The Potter Magic never lied to him and he wasn’t about to doubt it when he was taking his last breaths.
He glanced down at the sleeping little Heir, at the silky, inky hair courtesy of the Godfather Blood Bond that linked him evermore to Sirius Orion Black.
He remembered his jewel-like eyes looking at him with heartbreaking adoration and forced himself to confront the thought that horrified him even though he tried to lie to himself, the thought of leaving Hadrian alone.
Bitterness disintegrated on his tongue and he swallowed it forcibly.
He had always lived fearlessly, taking risks and doing whatever he pleased like every Potter before him, and he would not regret trampling through life like a conquering army now.
Fleamont smiled ruefully and drew his fingertips idly through the dark hair. He traced the high cheekbones and his lips lifted when Hadrian’s eyes twitched.
Dark, foul magic filled the air and Fleamont knew he had to leave.
“Always remember, family is everything. Always remember, Natus Vincere. Farewell, blood of my blood,” Fleamont breathed hoarsely.
Gently, the closed the door and walked with quick, long strides until he reached the end of the corridor.
He stepped into the nursery and methodically reviewed the Runes he drew with his blood half an hour ago.
He was aware that James and Lily would never agree to such Dark Ritual, but they weren’t there to object and he wouldn’t listen anyway.
He was Lord Fleamont Henry Potter and it was his responsibility to protect his family, the means to that were but a trivial concern of his.
Hopefully James and Lily would learn that precious lesson soon for he knew that the war was going to be a long and strenuous one.
A scowl divided his forehead into a ladder of ridges when the Ward Stone howled at the intrusion, tugging at his core and asking for help.
He should never have listened to Dumbledore and added the Fidelius. It nullified the blood wards’ powers and ruined the hard-earned reputation of the unbreakable Potter wards.
Behind him, two house elves popped in, their eyes narrowed.
“Master Fleamont, Ezio is sensing danger and bad magic,” his personal elf pointed out, waiting for his master to give his command.
“Belen senses the foul magic too. What does Master Fleamont wants Ezio and Belen to do?” the younger elf asked eagerly, no wonder itching to help and protect.
Fleamont gazed at his two faithful elves lovingly. They were his lifetime companions, they served him and his beloved Euphemia ardently however, it seemed that their journey together was at its end.
“I believe this is the time I say so long, my friends. You were the best elves a wizard could ask for. All I request is that you take care of my blood like you always did with me and Euphemia. But most importantly, make sure that Hadrian fares well.”
Ezio’s dark green eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest. Fleamont raised his hand and shook his head.
“I’m going to fight Voldemort and I doubt I’ll survive a duel with him. If it goes wrong, take the boys away to Sirius’ house. Remember under no circumstances may you call for James and Lily, they’re not equipped for the kind of magic Voldemort uses. Also, let him get into Henry’s room but stay vigilant at all times. If my research is true, the ritual might just end his miserable existence for good.”
Belen looked at his Senior and the words died on his lips when Ezio’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
Fleamont put his hands over his elves’ heads and let his magic bless them one last time.
“You’re to protect the Potters as your ancestors did since the time of Godric Gryffindor. You are bound to us like we are bound to you. My son might be brash and foolish at times, but he has a good heart. Watch over him and his family my little friends and remember, Death shall have no dominion over the Potters; he’s but our oldest friend. Protect Hadrian Ezio, he shall face tough times, but he’s our future.”
Ezio and Belen nodded, silent tears running down their cheeks. Ezio was the first to wash them away and stand tall and proud.
“You have our word, Master Fleamont. Ezio and Belen will do as you ask.”
Ezio and Belen bowed one last time and disappeared.
Fleamont turned his attention to the door and smirked when the sky exploded in a silver flash of light.
The Potter Magic cloaked him, eager for the looming collision, and armored with it, he went down to face Voldemort.
Emerald green eyes snapped open when a loud crash reached his ears.
Hadrian jumped to his feet and run to the door in haste. Doubling his speed, he headed toward Henry’s room and gasped when he stepped inside.
Henry was crying his eyes out, his face turning blue while a rivulet of blood slid down his right cheek from a strange gush on his forehead.
As if sensing his brother’s presence, Henry began to emit some distressed hiccups and opened his hazel eyes.
“Hawy!” he stretched his small arms and Hadrian picked him up from the crib and kissed the crown of his head.
“Shhh, Harry is here.”
His sharp eyes studied the room and a chills crept down his back when he noticed a handful of ashes, some black robes, and a wand scattered around.
Of course he knew that something odd was going on. His father refused to let them leave the manor and his mother looked worried most of the time.
Even his grandfather’s smiles seemed strained and forced.
Sirius visited more frequently and didn’t play with him or transform into the big black dog he enjoyed riding for hours.
Henry leaned his head over his shoulder and clenched his shirt tightly.
“Hut…Henny hut…”
Hadrian tried to clean the blood with his sleeves, but it didn’t go away entirely.
“Ezio!” he called for the house elf and was startled when he popped in more loudly than usual.
“Master Hadrian called for Ezio,’’ the house elf’s voice was low and hoarse but he didn’t dawdle on the reason. Henry was always more important.
“Henry hurt,” he cried hurriedly, shaken by his little brother’s anguish.
Ezio swallowed thickly and nodded. ‘’Ezio will take care of Master Henry. Give him to me, Master Hadrian.”
With manifest reluctance, Hadrian handed his baby brother over to Ezio.
His Grandpa instilled in him the importance of trusting the family house elves and treating them kindly and Grandpa was never wrong.
His Grandpa was—
Hadrian froze and his lips trembled as he asked Ezio. “Ezio, Grandpa!” he howled, a searing pain finding home in his core and sinking him in boatloads of agony.
Ezio flinched and bowed his head.
“Nooooo!”
Hadrian bolted down the stairs, his short legs failing his need for more speed.
“Nooooo!” he screamed again when he beheld the sight of Belen kneeling beside the still form of his grandfather.
“Grandpa! Is me, Harry! Grandpa! No!” Hadrian howled brokenly and his shaking knees stopped working.
He crawled to Fleamont’s body and shook him vehemently.
“Master Hadrian,” Belen begged in a rough voice, ‘’Master Fleamont is no more. He joined his forbearers.”
Hadrian swiped his head right and left, his small face drenched in tears and snot.
“No! No! You lie!”
A small hand landed over his right shoulder and Ezio whispered from behind. “Master Fleamont loved Master Hadrian so much. Master Fleamont will always be with Master. He says Master Hadrian must never forget, family is everything,” sadness underlined every word and Hadrian clamped his lips together.
“Famiwy!” A newly cleaned and bandaged Henry whispered as he gripped a lock of his hair.
Hadrian nodded his consent numbly and Ezio bowed.
He reached out his hands, asking for the comfort of holding his brother.
Ezio complied and Henry locked his arms behind his neck, trying to pull him closer. His lids slid down with drowsiness and he was asleep in a heartbeat.
His brother’s sweet, warm breath against his earlobe felt like a gentle stroke and he pulled him closer.
His eyes caught on something and not one to dither, the four-year-old Potter-Black Heir plucked his grandfather’s wand.
He winced when something tugged at his heart, unprepared for the peculiar feeling.
He buried his face in Henry’s hair and clenched his eyes shut, trying and failing to smother his sobs.
‘’Harry! Henry!” his mother’s frenzied cry disconcerted the eerie silence in the room and Hadrian raised his head.
“Mum!”
His father and Sirius hesitated at the threshold, their eyes darting between him and the unmoving body of his grandfather.
Lily covered her mouth with a shaking hand as she darted toward them. She hugged her kids, almost crushing their little bones, but Hadrian didn’t mind.
“Father...’’ James sounded as if he just ran a great distance and Sirius held his arm to steady him.
“Prongs, he’s gone. You should be proud of him. He fulfilled his duty and died like every true Potter, on the battlefield.”
James covered his face and slumped against his best friend.
The gentle hug of his mother made Hadrian feel warm and safe.
He opened his eyes and looked at his grandfather’s peaceful face.
He pushed a tear away from his temple and a new sense of resignation nudged itself inside his young heart.
He loved his grandfather.
He would always remember his last words. ‘Family is everything.’