Chapter Text
James Potter’s expression was unrelenting as he addressed his sons. “You will follow behind me and Sirius. This is not up for discussion. And no Henry, your sweet smiles are not going to work on me anymore. Bones will have skinned me alive if she learns what I’m doing right now instead of reporting what I found to the DMLE as any good Auror would.”
Henry shrugged and tried to look as unsuspecting as humanly possible. Which wasn’t working at all.
“This is a House Potter matter,” Hadrian hardened his jaw.
His eyes were hooded but James could see them blazing with barely repressed fury. “She had no right to interfere until we’re done with the traitor. We are honour-bound to seek revenge. If we were a bunch of murderers like Voldemort and his band of sycophants we would—‘’
James shook his head. “Hadrian, I know how much it pains you to see that bastard take another breath. But we cannot become the thing we abhor most.”
It gutted him to ask this of his son. However, he hadn’t understood the enormity of the burden of being the bearer of one of the most illustrious names in Magical Britain until he put the Lordship ring onto his fourth finger.
He had a legacy of generations of privilege and accomplishments and a superior pedigree to live up to and he could not let his father or his forebearers down.
He was no longer the green lad of twenty whose dearest dream was to become the best Chaser in history and bring the Quidditch World Cup home.
That James Fleamont Potter ceased to exist the day his elder son was born.
He thought he was a dutiful son, a good husband and a cool dad until Peter came and destroyed his small world.
And then he took his father’s seat in the Wizengamot and understood that he had more to offer, so much more.
He relished in having his voice heard, in protecting the weak and having the upper hand over the unworthy.
That, however, did not mean that James Potter; the most gifted trickster Hogwarts had ever seen and the founder of the Marauders wasn’t somewhere there.
As he looked into Hadrian’s eyes, he saw the anger, the loathing, the frustration. Strong and unfiltered.
The solid bond his eldest had with Fleamont was jarringly and brutally severed. Hadrian never recovered from that loss, not really.
Not that he blamed him.
One furtive glance at Henry’s taut features told him that his youngest wasn’t faring any better.
Sometimes, he regretted what his sons had to go through; what they had to sacrifice in the pursuit of eventual peace.
Because House Potter would never rest; his family would never be whole until Voldemort was vanquished for real.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and sighed.
“Let’s go, Prongs.”
Hadrian made sure that his face remained detached; definitely not a mirror of what he was feeling because inside of his chest?
A blazing inferno was raging.
The knowledge that he was just a door away from the traitor who had cost him his grandfather was too much to take.
The worst part was that he couldn’t end his pitiful existence as he so wished.
Frustration and bitterness washed over him. Hadrian knew that his grandfather wouldn’t want him to lead a life focused solely on revenge. He wouldn’t want that for him.
But he couldn’t help it. A part of him died that night and deep in his heart, he knew that he would never taste contentment till the day Voldemort disappeared for good.
James aimed his wand at the door and it was blown into smithereens. Sirius and Remus’ wands were flicked and ready to curse the bastard to oblivion.
“Don’t move,” Sirius’ smile was feral.
An extremely short, plump man with thin mousy hair and watery eyes raised his hands.
The similarities between his face and his Animagus form were uncanny and disturbing. He paused, taking in the rat’s features and stood straighter when Henry joined him.
Henry’s fury clashed against his body and he inhaled deeply, unable to breathe properly.
His brother was no longer the brat he liked to tease endlessly. He was on his way to become a great wizard.
Power rolled off him in waves, Potter Battle Magic; resilient and scorching hot.
The thought of Henry losing the last shreds of his innocence at such a young age made his heart bleed but he couldn’t shield him from the harshness of the world.
He would never lie to his brother.
James’ eyes said that he wanted to tear the cowering rat apart.
“Long time no seen, Wormtail.” It was the first time he heard his father use such a cold voice.
Peter Pettigrew was paralyzed to the spot, the hostile Auras of James, Sirius and Remus holding him in a tightening grip.
“Ja-James, S-Sirius! Moony,’’ he stammered.
Fear crippled him and froze every muscle of his body. Hadrian could almost see his flight responses kick in, urging him to find a way out.
“Don’t bother,” Sirius crowded him. “We set wards around the premises. There is no way out for you, rat.”
“I s-swear! Please, hear me out,” Peter shivered violently before his knees hit the ground.
He crawled towards Remus like a worm. “Moony! You’ve always been the level-headed one. Don’t let them kill me. I-I had no choice but—‘’
‘’How dare you!’’ Remus roared, his voice straining with rage. “Don’t touch me, you traitor.”
James stared down at his Ex-friend fiercely, unyieldingly. “Why did you escape and what are you doing here?”
Nothing had ever hurt Hadrian more than seeing his father struggle not to strangle the rat. His face was stone but his raging magic flaunted his helplessness.
His need for revenge warred with the Potter honour.
Honourable, valiant James Potter would never forgive himself if he lost control and succumbed to his heart’s most ardent desire.
Hadrian turned his head slightly, meeting Henry’s cold gaze. His body was tense, his expression twisted with hatred and fury.
“Breathe,” he whispered. Henry seemed startled. He closed his eyes and nodded once.
Peter tore his gaze from Remus and James and looked at him. “Ha-Harry?”
Hadrian gripped his wand tighter, his throat clogged with a bitter taste. “Do not speak to me, rat. You better start answering Father’s questions if you want to survive the night. You don’t want me to take over and deal with you personally.”
“I-I don’t…’’ Peter gasped out, broken words filled with despair leaving his blue lips.
No words were enough to convey the extent of his sins, of his betrayal.
Hadrian exchanged a look with Sirius and understood that his Godfather let some of his magic out.
Judgmental and always ravenous for more, Peter was not equipped to deal with the Black Family Magic.
He broke Sirius’ trust thirteen years ago and as such, the Family Magic declared him an enemy and a potential danger to the actual Lord Black.
“Sirius,” James said in a clipped tone and grasped his Godfather’s shoulder tightly. ”Don’t kill him.”
“Maybe I should,’’ Sirius smiled harshly. “I can get you all the information you need from his useless brain. Just say the word.”
“No,” James’ lips twisted. “You can torture him though after he answers my questions.”
Peter predictably used the opportunity and lunged at the door and in a fit of blinding rage; Hadrian aimed his wand at his back. ‘Laedere!’
“Hadrian!” James called but it was too late.
Peter jerked to a stop and then sank to his feet with a thud, his body twitching, a bloodcurdling scream leaving his lips.
“Harry,” Henry rasped. “Is-is this a Dark curse?”
Hadrian looked at Henry’s pale face, his eyes conveying a silent apology.
After tonight, nothing of Henry’s innocence would remain.
“Yes, it is. I found it in the Black Family Grimoire,” he explained quietly.
Hadrian was barely paying his brother any attention. He was too focused on Peter’s spasming body.
The curse Arcturus helped him master last summer caused almost as much pain as the Cruciatus.
He felt no remorse for throwing it at him. In fact, his eyes flickered with satisfaction as he watched the unfolding scene.
Peter Pettigrew deserved to be tortured.
He circled him like a Griffin hungry for his prey’s blood as he tried to push himself into a sitting position but failed.
He twirled his wand again, making him hover mid-air. “You will answer Father’s questions. Now. Why are you here? What do you want from my brother?”
Peter jerked against the invisible restraints but he was powerless.
Hadrian would hate for his mother to see him wielding Dark magic with so much expertise but it came easily to him. No matter how much she tried to integrate into their world, Lily was a Muggleborn and a very kind woman at that.
The Black Magic called to him, whispering alluring promises and he lowered his Occlumency Shields a bit. Just a little.
He’d been pushing it away for too long until it was hurting him physically to suppress and hide that part of himself.
He was a Potter, but he was a Black as well.
There was no denying the truth anymore.
Peter’s beady eyes found him. “H-Har-Harry, please. Do-don’t you remember me?”
Hadrian stepped up to him. “Unfortunately, I do. We invited you to our home. My father and his friends shielded you from your schoolmates' scorn and helped you when you were nothing but a weakling, an ungrateful pest and look how you repaid their kindness. You sold us to Voldemort.”
James moved up to him and put a hand over his tense shoulder. His father was giving him his support and he knew it.
He was also reminding him that he wasn’t alone. He was loved and accepted just the way he was.
Sirius took over. “Harry is not the toddler you remember. He can kill you without blinking an eye so you’d better answer the question.”
“I-I need….H-he sent me t-to steal Henry’s b-blood.’' Peter’s hoarse voice was heightened by the deafening silence.
Everyone seemed to freeze.
Steal Henry’s blood?
Harm his brother and cause him pain?
Scar his body again?
Hadrian’s body hummed with the need to destroy, the need to give the rat more pain, to make the voice in his head demanding his blood stop.
James’ shoulders heaved and Sirius breathed shallowly. “By ‘he’ do you mean Voldemort?”
He glanced down at Henry’s hands. He clutched his wand in a death grip, the look in his eyes reminded Hadrian of the moment he spotted the Basilisk’s corpse in the Chamber of Secrets for the first time.
“He’ll never touch you again. Not while we’re still alive, son,” James vowed vehemently.
Henry sagged against his side and released a harsh breath. “I’m not afraid. I will confront him and end him myself.”
Hadrian wondered if anything would ever be the same for him and Henry.
A flicker of wariness flashed over Henry as he watched his brother struggle not to commit his first murder.
He wasn’t a fool. He knew what being Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black entailed.
Hadrian was Dark. Dark magic came easily to him. His magic was offensive by nature. He was a predator, a hunter.
Nevertheless, his brother didn’t need to worry. Nothing would make him respect him less. His father taught him that Magic was Might and he believed him wholeheartedly.
He wished that one day he would master House Potter's Battle Magic. His ancestors were renowned Battle Mages and wielders of Defensive Magic. Shields and spells designed to protect came naturally to them.
Hadrian’s eyes were haunted and glassy as their father and Sirius dragged Peter away after they erased all his memories of the night.
As a matter of fact, he didn’t know what spell his father threw at Peter before Hadrian released him. There was a frightening glint in his eye and he swore he heard him whisper. “For my father.”
When his gaze darted to his father’s face, something vindictive and harsh flared in his eyes. They were no longer hazel but dark brown.
Peter’s body was limp, his eyes blank, his head lolling loosely to the side.
If he didn’t know better, he would say he was already dead.
“We should leave,” Remus motioned for them to follow him. “We don’t want to alert Hogwarts staff or Merlin Forbid, Dumbledore.”
Hadrian grimaced and he couldn’t help the snort that left his lips. “It would be rather annoying to explain what Dad and Sirius are doing here with the rat.”
Remus sighed. “He would demand answers and then probably call Madam Bones. We cannot have that. She’ll throw a tantrum. That woman is a beast.”
“Will we ever have a normal school year?” He linked his arm with Hadrian knowing very well how much his brother abhorred public displays of affection. He considered them a weakness he could do without.
“I had three peaceful years until you enrolled in Hogwarts,” he gave him a mock smirk, his eyes lighter than earlier.
“Aw, I bet they were boring,” Henry’s grin widened. “You love me and you are enjoying all the trouble I’m causing. It gives you the challenge you need to test your talent and push yourself further. You love protecting me.”
“You are a brat and here I was thinking that you’re starting to behave like a proud son of House Potter,” Hadrian sniffled.
Henry sucked in a breath, trying and failing to sound wounded. “I am a proud son of House Potter. Watch me, I’ll make everyone proud of my accomplishments.”
“Aren’t you talkative for someone who learned that a Dark Lord is after his blood?” Hadrian said quietly. “You know what this means, right?”
Henry lifted his chin, his eyes hard. “He plans to come back. To have a body."
Hadrian nodded.
“But we’ll be ready for him. We’ll go back home in a week and I’ll train harder. I won’t let him catch me unprepared again. Our family will not lose another member.”
Hadrian smiled faintly and ruffled his hair knowing how much he hated that. “Get ready then. I won’t hold back anymore.”
“And I don’t want you to. Don’t treat me like a child. Don’t….underestimate me.’’
The two brothers’ eyes locked and a silent message passed between them.
Together.
Everything started thirteen years ago and together, they would end Voldemort’s reign for good.
The bastard should’ve never underestimated the determination of the Potters and….the Blacks.