Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dr. Hannibal Lecter was upset. Well, that wasn’t quite true. In actuality he was a little more than upset. He was angry. It was so very rare that he ever felt anger. In fact it was rare for him to feel any strong emotion.

So when he did, he savored it. Relished the taste like a fine wine. He dragged the sensation out so that he could experience it for as long as possible. However, his rage was so complete that he found he couldn’t drag out the emotion this time. In fact he’d barely been able to stop himself from attacking the objects of his anger in the restaurant that evening. His iron-clad control had been sorely tested.

Hannibal had been enjoying a nice evening with a few colleagues. They had attended a weekend long psychiatric conference in London, and to celebrate their last evening they’d gone to a gourmet restaurant. The first few courses had been more than up to Hannibal’s strict standards even if the meat hadn’t been his preferred choice. The wine held a wonderful bouquet that Hannibal’s strong sense of smell found delightful. The conversation had even been decent, not dull for once. One of his associates was hiding an interesting anxiety disorder, which Hannibal had planned on encouraging a bit to see what happened.

However, his plans were ruined when the pigs walked in. Hannibal thought of all his victims as pigs but these people were truly the embodiment of the foul creatures. The man was corpulent and loud with a large walrus like mustache and an ill fitting suit that strained around his thick girth. The woman to his left was obviously his sister. The only difference being she was even louder, she wore a dress, and her mustache wasn’t quite as pronounced. The other woman, obviously his wife, was rail thin with a pinched face that resembled a horse. She held the hand of a loudly whining, hideously obese little boy that had no place in the establishment.

Hannibal could have ignored them if they had just been loud. But he could not ignore their rudeness. The man and his sister were boorish demanding the best of everything without knowing the true value of it. They ate like hogs shoving small appetizers, that were meant to be savored, down their gullets all the while boasting and laughing loudly. They gulped down their wine without appreciation of its fine scent or taste. Hannibal could have killed them on those points alone. Alas they were even more vulgar than that. The man bragged loudly about a promotion at work, and his sister spoke of her prized dogs. Hannibal wanted to feed her to those dogs. He was certain he would be doing the dogs a favor. The wife gossiped and spoke ill of her neighbors, delighting in their tragedies and misfortunes. The boy continued to whine loudly about being bored in between shoveling food down their throats.

Hannibal managed to contain himself long enough to learn the names of the horrid pigs. Then he excused himself from his associates. He was unable to stay a moment longer or else he feared his control would be forfeited, and he would lunge at them in the restaurant. Even he had his limits, and those… people had pushed his. Once he had made his exit he began to plan. He located the homes of the Dursleys. The sister was staying with them for the weekend. This was perfect for Hannibal’s plan. He rarely slaughtered more than one pig at time, and he tried not to hunt in territories he hadn’t familiarized himself with beforehand. But he was willing to make an exception for the Dursleys.

The next night found him visiting Number 4 Privet Drive. He approached the house like a shadow, quiet and unseen despite the plastic suit he wore. However, before he could go any further he was halted by an invisible barrier. Hannibal paused in surprise. He tested the barrier again, running a palm over it. He moved around the edges of the barrier, testing to see where the boundaries lay. The barrier completely surrounded the entire house. It was quite the conundrum to Hannibal. What was a powerful blood ward doing surrounding the home of an ordinary human family? The better question was why would someone want such a powerful protection for such odious people? Hannibal wanted to find out and to do that he needed to get inside those wards.

A wizard had created the wards, and they were quite strong. But so was Hannibal. He wore the guise of being human but he wasn’t. He was a creature from nightmares, powerful and ancient. His kind were the reason human beings feared the dark. They played with their minds and devoured their flesh. There weren’t many of his kind left, and many believed that they were nothing more than myths. Hannibal hadn’t seen another of his kind in centuries, and he often wondered if he was the last. Wizards, and humans had killed them off long ago. Their population had always been small, and the wizards and humans had used their greater numbers to hunt them. Hannibal alone seemed to have escaped the slaughter. He lost both his parents and his younger sister. He remained alive through his cunning, and power. But he was alone, masquerading as a human. His disguise was so great that even he sometimes forgot that he was something more. After all it was essential for him to forget, it kept him from missing the freedom of his true from.

It was instances such as this, being confronted with magic, that made him remember himself. He wanted to test his strength against those of wizards just to assure himself that he was still capable of it. He wanted to get to whatever they were trying so desperately to hide. Hannibal pulled on his own, quite significant, dark power. He murmured in the deep guttural language of his people and slashed his palm to spill his black blood against the barrier. The blood wards around the home shuddered as his own blood washed up against it. For a moment longer they resisted before dissolving completely. Hannibal allowed himself a brief moment of triumph. He was exhausted but it was one of the biggest challenges that he had had in a long. He knew that now the wards had fallen someone would be alerted. No one had such strong wards in place without some sort of alarm system in place in the event that they failed. He would have to work quickly.

He used his inhuman speed to move swiftly and silently up into the bedrooms. He dispatched the parents and sister-in-law with quick brutal ease. He couldn’t chance taking his time drawing out their deaths now. The son he left alive. Despite the child’s horrid behavior he still didn’t want to kill a child unless it was absolutely necessary. Instead he gave the child a sedative that would insure he slept for at least 24 hours. The sedative would have the added benefit of confusing the wizards. A magical creature or another wizard wouldn’t be likely to use a muggle sedative on the child, and it would draw attention away from him. With that done he displayed the bodies in a particularly shaming manner. The ritual soothed the savage rage burning inside him that the pigs had caused to stir inside him.

Making art from the bodies of his victims was something he had fallen into, and he enjoyed it. It was an outlet for his natural violent tendencies. His kind was inherently inclined to meddle and play with the minds of others. Hannibal was a perfect example of that. He reveled in manipulating others and testing them to see what they would do. Unfortunately, there weren’t many who were up to the challenge of facing his strength and skills. In the end they weren’t able to hold his interest for an extended period of time.

With his task complete he went to check the rest of the house. Hannibal hadn’t seen anything to warrant the powerful blood wards around the house. As he was treading down the stairs his sharp hearing caught the sound of shuffling underneath the stairs. Hannibal was more than confident in his own abilities and he knew without a doubt that something was under the stairs. Hannibal went to investigate. There was a lock on the outside of the broom cupboard and Hannibal assumed that the Dursleys must keep the family pet inside. If he was being honest with himself the small boy of about four or five with a wild mop of black hair curled up inside on a dirty mattress was the last thing he had been expecting.

The boy wore old stained clothing several sizes too big. Hannibal knew they had to be hand-me-downs from the overweight boy upstairs. The boy was curled up under an old thin blanket. A few broken crayons and a couple of plastic soldiers littered the floor of the cupboard. Hannibal’s mind wandered to the room full of toys and the thick bedspread in the other boy’s room. Rage consumed him. He suddenly wished that he hadn’t killed the Dursleys so quickly. What right did they have to lock this child up like unwanted trash?

The boy had turned to look at Hannibal while he had been lost in his thoughts. Large emerald green eyes warily looked Hannibal over. The face was thin and sunburnt making his eyes stand out all the more. The look in the eyes was something Hannibal recognized. It was hopelessness tinged with hunger and desperation. Suddenly he didn’t see a small boy in front of him. He saw a little girl. A girl who had called his name while she cried for him to protect her. He had failed her. He had been weak, and unable to stop the human men from tearing her apart. What was more Hannibal could sense the magic surrounding this boy. He was saturated with it, and Hannibal wanted to drink it in. There was a slight darkness that tinged his otherwise pure magical scent, and Hannibal found himself intrigued by it. He knew without a doubt that this boy was what the wards had been hiding.

Before he could think better of it he swept the child up into his arms. The child barely made a whimper as he was scooped up by a complete stranger wearing a blood covered plastic suit. Of course the boy was half asleep and most likely didn’t properly recognize what was happening. Hannibal soothed the child against his shoulder when the boy squirmed a bit as they exited the house. Hannibal sent a tendril of his will into the boy’s mind, forcing the boy into a deeper sleep with peaceful dreams. He didn’t know what he was going to do with him yet, but he knew that he couldn’t just leave him behind. The child was the most fascinating thing he had discovered in ages. He wasn’t one to let such a gift slip away from him.  

His calculating mind was already moving through several different paths that he could take whilst he disposed of the evidence, and settled the boy in his rented car with a blanket. Hannibal drove them back to the hotel, and by the time they reached the hotel he had settled on two different courses of action. Killing him was out of the question. At least not at the moment. He was far too interested to learn what made this boy so special as to warrant such wards to protect him. But then if the boy was special then why had he been left with humans who treated him like unwanted garbage? It was an interesting puzzle that he wanted to solve. Hannibal could have just left him at the nearest and most qualified orphanage, and not gotten involved at all. However, it wasn’t in his nature to not try and manipulate situations for his own amusement. So in the end he chose to keep him.

Having a child or raising a child had never entered Hannibal’s mind. He was one of the last of his kind so even if he wanted to it wouldn’t have been possible. There were ways to turn someone but he had never met a human he thought was worth the effort. Hannibal wasn’t certain why he thought of changing this child now. Perhaps it was the way he had associated the boy with his sister. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was lonely. He had spent so many years hiding his true nature, pretending to be human. It had its merits, being able to get up close and personal to better twist the minds of weaker beings without the need of his powers. He enjoyed the various serial killer personas he created, or occasionally copying another’s work so perfectly no one would be able to tell the difference. For the first time he thought of what it would be like to mentor someone. To have someone that would be susceptible to being molded and created in the image that he wanted of them. Turning him would make the boy his son, the closest to a son as he was ever going to get. He wanted someone to pass on his ideals and his knowledge to.

It was this loneliness paired with the worn and weary look in the child’s eyes that made him decide to keep the boy. It would be an inconvenience to get the paperwork in order but Hannibal felt the benefits would pay off. He had quite a few contacts in the world who could forge the necessary papers, and enough money to get things done quickly and quietly. Within a few days he would have all the paperwork declaring the boy his legal son. By tomorrow he would have begun the process of making him his son.

He carried the child up to his hotel room. The boy was terribly light. Hannibal would make sure to change all that. He had grand plans to see him being fed quite well from now on. After all growing boys needed their nutrients. Hannibal got rid of his dirty rags, and dressed him in one of his own undershirts. He was going to burn the disgusting scraps as soon as he could, and get him some proper outfits to wear. He tucked the child into one of the beds, and cast a small protective ward around him. It would keep his location hidden for the time being if the wizards started searching for him. In the morning everything would change for the boy. It would be the beginning of a very difficult adjustment period. The child would need his sleep.

Hannibal couldn’t resist taking a look into his mind. What he saw interested him. He watched from the shadows as the boy dreamt of lying outside in a field of flowers looking up at the sky. It was an odd dream for a child. Most children dreamt of toys or sweets. The boy had an oddly peaceful mind for one so young. But if he had spent most of his life locked in a broom cupboard under the stairs it was no wonder that he dreamt of the sky when he was able.

Hannibal left the boy to his dream and moved deeper into the boy’s memories. His kind were master of nightmares and mind magic. In the time when they had been at the height of their power they could even turn nightmares a reality. Hannibal was only capable of such a feat if he was extremely well rested and prepared. Afterwards he would be completely exhausted, and his energy stores would be depleted. He would need another of his kind if he wanted to work great magic like that again.

Hannibal moved through the boy’s mind in the shape of a large black-feathered stag lest the boy catch sight of his presence. His horns were a mass of twisting thorns. The points were sharper than knives and could impale someone with casual ease. This ravenstag was one of the three forms he was capable of taking. The second was his human form and the last form was somewhere in between the other two. The third form was the true shape of the wendigo. The wendigo was a creature with the feathered and furred lower half of the ravenstag along with its massive antlers. A wendigo’s skin was like black polished ebony and its long fingered hands ended in long wicked black claws. The eyes could often be seen as the most unnerving since they were the color of dried blood with no whites or irises.

In myth wendigos were perceived as cannibals and they were right. Wendigo’s had voracious appetites and would eat anything or anyone even their own kind. The legends were also true that to become a wendigo one had to practice cannibalism. But that wasn’t all of it. Just being a cannibal wouldn’t change someone. A person would need the assistance of a born wendigo or at the very least would need access to a steady supply of a born wendigo’s blood. The process wouldn’t take too long, no more than a month or so but it must be done in the correct manner. The process would prove difficult for the boy, and not all humans were capable of making the switch. Hannibal was confident that the boy’s magic would aid him through the process. The boy was also strong to have lived through the treatment he had suffered at the hands of the Dursleys.

The more Hannibal saw of the boy’s memories the more he regretted killing the Dursleys so quickly and in their sleep. They weren’t physically abusive, except for the occasional slap to the back of the head and the way they yanked him around. But they were just deplorable people. They neglected the boy in favor of spoiling their own disgusting spawn. They belittled him and were unjustly cruel to him for matters beyond his control. Of course this benefitted Hannibal nicely since the boy would be eager to please anyone who showed him the slightest bit of affection and attention. It would make it all the easier to mold the boy to his expectations. The Dursleys had started working the child the moment he was old enough to walk. The aunt had him making simple meals, doing the laundry, and weeding the garden. Chores were good for children. Using them like slave labor wasn’t. Hannibal was a murderer but even he had his standards.

Hannibal learned a bit about how Harry came to be with the Dursleys. It was difficult to discern because the memories were those of an infant. They were fuzzy but he was able to make out that there was some sort of attack. A dark wizard of some kind had attacked and killed the boy’s parents. The wizard hadn’t been able to dispatch the boy for some reason. The spell he cast had rebounded and destroyed him while only leaving the lightning bolt shaped mark on the boy’s forehead. Somehow the boy had been placed with his mother’s human sister and her family. The details of just how were even fuzzier, and Hannibal made the assumption that the boy had been asleep during those particular events.

For the most part the boy’s mind was simple to traverse. The boy was too young to build any sort of effective barriers to keep someone like him out. Hannibal made the boy familiar with his presence in his mind. This was would insure that the boy had a small measure of trust in him when he woke in the morning. Hannibal also noticed a darkness in the boy’s mind that definitely did not belong. It had been walled off behind impressive barriers within the child’s mind. The child must have created them instinctively. If he hadn’t he probably wouldn’t have survived the taint. Hannibal would probe the foreign piece of magic later. That is if the fragment wasn’t completely destroyed when he started turning the boy.

After gathering all the information that he could he decided to withdraw from the child’s mind, and seek his own rest. He was tired. He hadn’t used so much energy in a long time and he was rusty. Hannibal was disappointed with himself he shouldn’t have allowed himself to become so out of practice.

Hannibal woke early, feeling more refreshed, and eager to start the day. The hotel had a small kitchenette in the room. It was nothing special but it allowed him to prepare a small breakfast. He wanted to start building a relationship with the boy as soon as possible. Hannibal had become certain that he wanted to keep the boy after seeing his memories. The boy had a core of steel, and a mysterious past. Hannibal was willing to tie the boy to him. He was also going to begin to turn the boy. He would start the process off by allowing the boy some revenge by feeding him his relatives. The second necessary requirement was Hannibal’s own blood, which he would mix in with the boy’s cranberry juice.

It didn’t take long for the boy to wake up. Hannibal watched in amusement at the series of emotions that flittered across the small features. The child’s expressions were like an open book and simple for Hannibal to read even if he hadn’t spent last night looking through his mind. There was confusion, fear, and just a hint of wonder as he looked around the room. Hannibal applauded the way he took in the room, and noted the exits and possible hiding places. Fear and uncertainty were the predominant emotions when his gaze finally settled on Hannibal.

“Good morning,” Hannibal greeted sending the boy his warmest smile, the one he used to put his patients at ease. There were a few rare humans who were still able to recognize him for the predator that he was. They still carried the remnants of instincts that their ancestors had developed to survive in those dark times before civilization.

The boy was apparently one of them. He didn’t appear to buy Hannibal’s act at all.

“Good morning, sir,” the boy replied timidly despite his obvious discomfort. Hannibal approved of his politeness. At least he wouldn’t have to instill manners in the boy just teach him the small niceties of polite society.

“I’m sure you are quite curious as to how you came to be here with me,” Hannibal prompted.

“Yes, sir,” the boy agreed shifting on the bed as if he wanted to bolt, and twisting Hannibal’s shirt nervously in his hands.

“Good, and we shall get to that. But first what is your name?” Hannibal asked. Hannibal already knew the answer. He had learned it last night while in his mind.

“Harry Potter,” the boy replied.

Hannibal was going to change his name. Harry was far too common for his son. He would pick something similar to Harry but much more distinctive. His last name would of course be Lecter.

“I am Hannibal Lecter. I am your new guardian,” Hannibal explained carefully, and firmly.

“Uncle Vernon always said that if I wasn’t good and didn’t finish my chores they would send me away to an orphanage where someone bad would take me home,” the boy cried in distress.

“I can assure you I mean you no harm. I know this is all very sudden. It is a big change to take. But you are much better off without your relatives. I promise to be a proper caretaker. I want you to think of me as your father,” Hannibal explained in a calm, authoritative voice.

“Father?” Harry asked breathlessly.

It would almost be too easy to gain Harry’s trust. Hannibal easily recognized how starved for affection Harry was. He had been neglected and unloved by his previous guardians. At the slightest mention of someone wanting to care for him he easily overlooked that a stranger had essentially kidnapped him with no real proof of guardianship beyond his own word. The boy was intelligent Hannibal could see that but his young age and his previous treatment left him highly susceptible to Hannibal’s influence.

“Yes, I would very much like that. I know it may take some time for us to develop such a relationship but we have all the time in the world,” Hannibal assured.

“Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia really gave me to you?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“Yes, we have been planning it for some time. I believed they had informed you of the arrangement. I arrived last night but you were already asleep, and they gave me to you then. I did not want to wake so I brought us back to the hotel,” Hannibal lied smoothly.

Harry still didn’t look convinced.

“Your aunt and uncle began to look for someone to adopt you after the incident with your teacher’s hair,” Hannibal said.

The incident had been kept a closely guarded secret with the Dursleys. The only way for Hannibal to have found was for them to have told him. Hannibal knowing the secret would prove that he had known his relatives, and that they had trusted him enough to give him the information.

“I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t even know how I did it,” Harry looked terrified.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Harry. I won’t get angry about those sorts of things like your relatives did. Those unexplainable little events are a natural part of you,” Hannibal reassured.

“You mean you know what it is I can do?” Harry asked eagerly.

“We will discuss them but first why don’t you come over to the table. I have spent the morning preparing breakfast for us to start off our acquaintance on the right foot. A traditional English breakfast. I even made the sausage myself,” Hannibal explained with a wink.

Harry warily approached the table Hannibal had carefully set despite the limited resources and took a seat. Hannibal sat as well and picked up his fork. He covertly watched as Harry carefully studied his movements before copying him. Hannibal could tell by watching him out of the corner of his eye that Harry probably hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to eat at a table or with silverware but he was already conducting himself in a much better manner than his atrocious relatives. Hannibal had high hopes for him.

“This is very good,” Harry praised as he took a bite of the eggs.

“Thank you, cooking is a passion of mine,” Hannibal watched carefully as Harry took his very first bite of the carefully prepared sausage. Hannibal could help the smile that spread across his features.

“I like to cook too. Well, my aunt makes me do all the cooking. But I like doing it even if I don’t get to eat much of it,” Harry shrugged.

“I would be more than happy to teach you how to cook,” Hannibal enjoyed the fact that the boy already had some experience and an interest in one of his favorite pastimes. He would slowly wean him in to the others. “But I do not expect you to cook for me. You are the child and I am the adult it will be my job to cook for you.”

“Oh, but how will I earn my keep? I don’t want to be a burdened,” Harry panicked.

“You will not be a burden to me. I would not have agreed to take you otherwise. I do expect you to follow my rules. To be polite and respectful to me. I will expect you to do well in school and to pick up after yourself. I do not expect you to be perfect but I always want you to be trying your very hardest at whatever task I’ve set before you,” Hannibal informed him sternly.

“I understand,” Harry paused before timidly asked. “So you want me to do well in school?”

“Of course I want you to do well. Knowledge is very important to have. It can open many doors to us. It is to never be taken advantage of.”

“I just started primary school and I liked it at first. But my aunt and uncle got mad when I got better marks than Dudley. Then my teacher wasn’t very nice to me after Aunt Petunia told her I copied Dudley’s work. She was always yelling at me for things I didn’t do, and I just got so mad at her,” Harry admitted.

“Your anger was understandable. You were judged unfairly. But it does not pay to lose your temper. Our rational thoughts desert us during those times, and we often do things we will regret later. There are many exercises we can work on to help you learn control,” Hannibal offered.

“So when someone’s rude to me I just shouldn’t do anything?” Harry wanted to know.

“No, but there are other ways for them to be dealt with rather than just lashing out. In the long run it will help you to learn control over your magic as well,” Hannibal explained. He knew that the one true way to put Harry at ease in his presence was to validate all of his unexplainable experiences.

“Magic? Magic’s not real. Uncle Vernon says so,” Harry insisted looking about as if his uncle would jump out at him at any moment.

“Your Uncle Vernon is a normal human so of course he would not know any better,” the slight curling of lip was the only indication of just how vulgar he thought the man had been.

“Uncle Vernon hates magic,” Harry’s gaze drifted off in remembrance.

“Yes, humans hate that which they do not understand,” Hannibal agreed.

“So you said humans, does that mean I’m not human?” Harry asked tremulously. The derogatory name calling of his relatives were no doubt ringing in his ears.

“You are a wizard, which is a human who can perform magic,” Hannibal explained.

“Are you a wizard too?” Harry asked regarding him shrewdly.

“What I am is a bit more complicated, and we will discuss it in more depth when we have the time. For the time being I will say that I am a magical person, capable of magical powers just like you,” Hannibal answered calmly.

“Prove it,” Harry commanded boldly.

“Try again,” Hannibal said sternly.

“Can you show me, sir, how you do magic please?” Harry asked instantly contrite. His relatives had taught him to obey authority figures but he still had fire in him. Hannibal didn’t mind but he needed to insure that Harry came to see him as the only authority in his life, and treated him accordingly.

“Yes, of course I can,” Hannibal made a grand gesture of moving his hand and making the shadows in the room dance.

Harry gaped in astonishment.

“That’s wicked,” the boy enthused once Hannibal had resettled the shadows in their proper places.

“Of course,” Hannibal agreed. “Now you haven’t had any of your juice. Boys your age need your vitamins, drink up.”

Harry flashed him a timid smile and picked up the juice. Hannibal watched closely as the first sip passed his lips. The first taste would irrevocable bind them and mark Harry as his. There would be no going back. Hannibal allowed a small, pleased smile to spread across his face. This was the start of something truly beautiful.

Chapter Text

Hannibal was pleased when Harry helped him pick up the dishes. He was quite competent at cleaning but Hannibal only allowed him to dry. Hannibal once again had to explain that his rules were going to be quite different than those of relatives when Harry had a minor meltdown about not contributing. The boy had reluctantly accepted this. However, it was obvious that Harry was uncomfortable with the idea. It had been ingrained into his young mind that he had to earn his keep or risk being punished. Hannibal was trying to put the boy at ease around him. He knew it wouldn’t take much before the boy came to see him as the better option over his relatives. In fact Hannibal was sure he was realizing that now.

“Now, Harry, we have several errands to run today,” Hannibal informed him.

“All right,” the boy agreed easily. “What are we going to get?”

“We need to buy you some new clothes. Something that is new and that will actually fit you. All of the clothes your relatives provided are entirely unacceptable,” Hannibal said firmly.

Harry’s gaze darted over Hannibal’s own impeccable attire of a dark blue suit and blood red silk tie. He glanced down at the borrowed shirt he was wearing and then at the pile of his old tattered clothing Hannibal had left in a chair. He seemed to be weighing his options. He was obviously uncomfortable at the thought of Hannibal spending money on him but he couldn’t deny the necessity of it.

“I want to provide for you. Your aunt and uncle they provided things for your cousin, didn’t they?” Hannibal prompted.

“Yes, but Dudley is their son that’s why he always got new things,” Harry murmured as if reciting something he was often told.

“And now you are my son, and it is my privilege to take care of you,” Hannibal pointed out.

Harry’s eyes widened at Hannibal’s declaration, and he instantly softened towards Hannibal. He gave Hannibal a shy smile completely forgetting that technically Hannibal was still a stranger to him. The boy was far too trusting for his own good. Hannibal would have to change that. After he had come to trust him completely of course.

Hannibal took Harry to the nearest high-end child’s clothing store. He spun a story to the saleswoman about losing his son’s luggage while Harry was out of earshot. She was appropriately sympathetic and quickly set about to get several outfits for Harry. She had surprisingly good taste and always asked for his approval before having Harry try something on. This would just be a starting wardrobe of course. Hannibal would take him to his preferred tailor when they returned to Baltimore. For now Harry would need the essentials while they stayed in England before traveling back to America.

Harry was a bit overwhelmed by the experience so afterwards Hannibal took him back to the hotel for lunch, and to rest. Hannibal once again served him some special lunchmeat and juice laced with his blood. The boy made quick work of both. It was far too early for there to be any signs of the change but Hannibal was confident that the process would go smoothly. The chance of success was increased if the person undergoing the change was being assisted by a born wendigo. Hannibal’s trips into the boy’s dreams would acclimate the boy, and get him accustomed to the proper thought processes namely the insatiable hunger of the wendigo.

After lunch and some rest the two of them went back out. Hannibal had to pick up the necessary papers giving him legal custody of Harry so that the two of them would be able to get on the flight back to the United States tomorrow. Harry wore one of his new outfits out. Hannibal had trimmed his hair and used a fair amount of hair gel to get the boy’s hair to finally lie flat against his skull. It was a huge improvement from the appearance of a little ruffian he had been sporting previously. Styling his hair brought out the intriguing lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. It was the source of the dark magic surrounding Harry and he wanted the chance to prod it a bit. However, it would have to wait.

The people Hannibal had employed worked out of an ordinary looking office space. They were quite expensive but they were the best at what they did and came with a complete guarantee that the papers would pass any legal scrutiny. Besides Hannibal had more than enough resources to pay for it, and to have it done quickly. They were more than accommodating when they realized the amount of money that Hannibal was willing to spend. Harry had to have his picture taken for his passport. Then all that was needed was a name for the fake birth certificate and passport. Luckily Hannibal had thought of one. It was sophisticated but not too dissimilar from his original name.

“Here you are, your new passport with your new name,” Hannibal handed him the completed passport.

“New name?” Harry questioned in confusion as he squinted at the passport.

Hannibal had forgotten about his poor eyesight. He could have gotten him glasses he supposed. However, Hannibal didn’t see why he should bother when Harry’s eyesight would be completely corrected by the end of his transformation.

“Your new name is Hadrian Lecter,” Hannibal told him.

“Why do I need a new name?” Harry questioned.

“Wouldn’t you like a fresh start? With a new name you can be a completely new person. You can be whoever you like, no one will know you were ever Harry Potter,” Hannibal said knowing the idea would appeal to the boy after all the ridicule he had received at the hands of his cousin and his cousin’s friends.

“It could be neat, I suppose. Like a spy from one of the movies Dudley watches on the telly. But what’s a passport and why do I need one?”

“You need one to go on a plane,” Hannibal explained.

“Are we going on a trip?” Harry asked eagerly.

“No, we are returning to my home.”

“You don’t live here?” Harry’s eyes had widened in sudden worry.

“You have nothing to worry about. You’ll like Baltimore. It is a city in America. I have a large house with a big backyard. There is a park close by that we can walk to on nice days. You will be able to have a room all to yourself. We can decorate it any way that you choose,” Hannibal assured him.

Harry twisted his hands nervously, and glanced away from him. The boy looked ready to bolt. Hannibal could sense that he was becoming overwhelmed again and starting to doubt him. Hannibal needed to distract him and reestablish their connection.

“Perhaps you’d like to learn a bit more about wizards and magic?” Hannibal asked.

Harry’s attention was instantly snagged. Hannibal smirked a bit as he reached to take the boy’s hand. Unlike previous attempts Harry allowed him to hold his hand and lead him away. The two of them preceded to take a walk through the park. Harry listened avidly as Hannibal told him all about the wizarding world and its many eccentricities. He told him about various wizarding societies and about the many magical creatures that existed in the world. The boy was quite eager to learn all that he could about the wizarding world. Of course Harry didn’t need to know he wouldn’t be a wizard for much longer.

Hannibal made dinner for them that night in the hotel room. He gave Harry a much-needed bath, and then tucked him in with a story from his own youth. Once the boy was in a deep sleep Hannibal decided to do some research. It had been a long time since he had ventured into the wizarding world. Wizards had feared and hated his kind and had hunted them to near extinction. In fact most wizards believed them to be extinct, which made infiltrating them all the easier. Hannibal needed to gather some information about the boy he was going to be raising as his own, and the only way to do that was to seek out his origins. He needed to know who would come after the boy in an attempt to get him back. For someone surely would considering the layers of protection surrounding his relative’s home.

To do this he made a trip to Diagon Alley. The plan was to go to Gringotts and make inquiries about Harry Potter. For the right amount of gold the goblins could be persuaded to do almost anything. Hannibal had also been a very influential customer for quite a long time. However, before he made it there he caught sight of a newspaper. The article was about the tragic death of Harry Potter’s family and the disappearance of the Boy-Who-Lived. The article gave a quick history of the famous Harry Potter and his defeat of the most powerful Dark Lord in the last century. Apparently he had survived the Killing Curse. This intrigued Hannibal quite a bit. He knew his decision to take the boy as his was the correct one. There were would be huge searches for the boy but Hannibal was confident that he could hide him for a month. After the month had passed and the change was complete any spells trying to locate Harry Potter wouldn’t work any way. Harry Potter the wizard would be dead and Hadrian Lecter the wendigo would take his place.

Hannibal left Diagon Alley to return to the hotel. Harry was still in the deep sleep Hannibal had placed him in. Hannibal stroked the boy’s hair back to better examine the scar. It still appeared to be a fresh wound but Hannibal knew that wasn’t true. He slipped into Harry’s mind to take a closer look.

The boy’s mindscape was modeled after a large sprawling garden. It was obviously the influence from the boy’s time spent weeding his aunt’s garden. He enjoyed his time in the garden away from his relatives and cupboard, and had created his mindscape to reflect that beauty and sense freedom that being outside gave him. The very edges of this internal garden were already starting to blacken and decay. To Hannibal this was a very good sign. It meant that Harry was already beginning to accept the changes and Hannibal’s influence at an unconscious level. Hannibal took a moment to encourage the growth. It would encourage Harry’s instincts to begin changing, and ensure that his hunger for flesh developed quickly.

His task completed he continued deeper into the garden until he came to the mausoleum like structure that contained the dark magic in the boy’s mind. Hannibal didn’t want to open it for he didn’t know how much danger exposing Harry to the magic within would pose to him. Harry’s mind had locked it away from him for a reason. He would settle for poking a small hole into the barrier and taking a peek at what laid inside.

What Hannibal discovered surprised even him. He quickly sealed the hole in the mausoleum and withdrew from Harry’s mind completely. There was a soul fragment locked away in Harry’s mind, a dark soul. Hannibal had heard of such magic before but he never thought he’d come across someone insane enough to try it. It was the pathetic attempts of desperate mortals trying to attain immortality. Hannibal knew better than to attempt such a thing. To split one’s soul was sheer madness, and would cause madness to the person performing the ritual. Nothing was truly immortal all things came to an end. This was a truth that Hannibal actually found comfort in, and it was the reason that he always lived his life to his fullest, and did whatever amused him. However, not many felt the same especially mortals whose lives were so fleeting.

Hannibal pondered about how to remove the soul fragment or if he should wait to see if his blood was capable of destroying the entity. For now he would leave it be. It wasn’t causing any immediate harm or hindering his plans for Harry. He would need to do some more research on the subject in the event his blood was not capable of destroying it. Hannibal wasn’t confident that he knew enough about Horcruxes to remove one from a living being. In fact he had never heard of a living creature being a Horcrux. He would need to tread carefully around it.

The next morning Hannibal and Harry got on a plane. They passed through customs without a hitch. Harry was a bit nervous on the plane. His rational instincts tried to make another attempt of reasserting themselves, and he wanted to get off the plane. Hannibal had to soothe him with more stories of the wizarding world and magic before he calmed down a bit. Harry had questioned him extensively, for a five year old, about his relatives and Hannibal himself. Hannibal hadn’t minded. It had amused him to see the boy’s attempts at tripping him up. Of course in the end Hannibal had once again established himself as a trustworthy figure in Harry’s eyes and Harry had once again come to grudgingly trust him.

The trip home was uneventful, save for the rude businessman in the seat across from them. His crude behavior towards the stewardess in front of Harry was unacceptable. Hannibal memorized the nametag on his carryon bag. He would be joining the rolodex of future potential victims. As soon as they touched down in America Hannibal began to refer to Harry as Hadrian. The boy was obviously still a bit uncertain about the name change but he didn’t ask Hannibal to stop. Hannibal knew a part of the boy liked the new name, and having a more permanent connection to Hannibal himself.

Hannibal drove through Baltimore on their way home. He pointed out the buildings as they went and Harry looked more than a little overwhelmed. The poor child had barely seen anything of the world beyond that dreadful little suburb. The plane ride and arriving in an entirely new country was going to be a very large adjustment for Harry not to mention the greater physical changes to come. Hannibal was confident that the boy would be fine. When they arrived at his home Harry was stunned by the sheer size of the lovely stone house. The boy was almost too intimidated to enter the house.

“This is your home now, Hadrian. You are more than welcome inside,” Hannibal assured him resting his hand on his shoulder and ushering him through the door.

“It’s so big and… fancy,” Harry said in awe. His green eyes darted here and there taking in the paintings on the walls and the bookshelves. “I don’t want to break anything.”

“I trust that you will do no such thing. Another child perhaps. But I have faith in you. You are not like most children. You are very mature for your age,” Hannibal praised.

The boy flushed, unaccustomed to praise.

“Now would you like a tour of the house? Or would you like a snack first?” Hannibal offered.

“We can have a tour?” Harry replied looking nervous, and glancing at Hannibal trying to gauge what the correct response was.

“Hadrian, if you are hungry you may tell me. I am not like your relatives. I will not punish you for your body’s natural responses. If you are hungry I will feed you. You are growing boy it is expected for you to often be hungry. If you need anything else you only need to tell me. I will not turn you away. I will listen to you and do my best to aid you,” Hannibal assured him. It was important that Harry got over his reluctance to tell Hannibal how he was feeling. As his metamorphosis continued his hunger would grow exponentially, and it would be imperative that Hannibal encouraged and fed that hunger.

“I’m a little hungry. But I can make us a snack,” Harry offered.

“How about we make something together? I can show you the kitchen and teach you my rules for using it.”

Harry nodded eager to learn some of Hannibal’s rules.

“We will make some simple sandwiches,” Hannibal led him into his pristine kitchen.

The kitchen was his favorite part of his home. Unlike many magical beings Hannibal was grateful for the all of the advancements in technology that had been made throughout the years. Many of his kind simply ate their food raw, not having the patience to prepare and refine their meals. Hannibal had always been different from others of his kind in that regard. Yes, he had a darker more animalistic side but his perfect control over himself kept it from showing. This was control was something he was going to have teach Harry as his instincts began to grow and he started to change.

Hannibal went over the rules with Harry about using certain appliances. Harry was not to use or touch any of the appliances or knives in the kitchen unless Hannibal was present. He would be allowed to pour himself drinks, procure fruits or vegetables from the refrigerator, or snacks from the cupboards any time he felt hungry.

The meat Hannibal pulled from his refrigerator came courtesy of a rather nasty barista who had splattered coffee all over Hannibal without apologizing. He offered a piece to Harry where he sat on a bar stool beside him. Harry accepted and chewed it thoughtfully.

“What kind of meat is this? It doesn’t taste like turkey or chicken,” Harry frowned.

Hannibal smiled at the boy’s observation. “It’s pork from a pig. Have you ever had it before?”

“Never sliced like this. Aunt Petunia only bought the big roasts before,” Harry explained timidly reaching for the second piece Hannibal offered him.

“Well, you will be having a whole new dining experience with me. Cooking, as I’ve said before, is one of my passions. I am always trying something new. I hope that you will always try something first before you say you don’t like it. That is the most important rule of my kitchen,” Hannibal smiled.

“I will, I promise. I’ve really liked everything you’ve made so far,” Harry said shyly.

“Good.”

The two of them had their sandwiches. Afterwards Hannibal gave him a complete tour of the house. Of course he left the special room beneath his wine cellar out of the tour. Hannibal would save that room until Harry was older and ready to see it. The last stop on their tour was the guest room across from his own. The room was going to be Harry’s. It held dark cherry furniture with green and blue accents. Hannibal could see that Harry loved it. The boy favored nature colors and when asked he insisted that there was nothing in the room that he would change. At the revelation that there was an attached bathroom Hannibal could see he was once more becoming overwhelmed by all of his new possessions.

To keep Harry distracted Hannibal brought him over to his harpsichord. Sitting him down beside him he began to play a soft melody. As he played he wove some soothing magic into the music to relax Harry. The boy instantly grew lax and was soon leaning up against Hannibal in a light doze. Hannibal created a mental list of things that would need to be done. He would need to reschedule his appointments for the next month or so as Harry adjusted and he learned to control his new instincts. Hannibal wouldn’t be able to leave him on his own or with a nanny while he was going through his change. Of course he would slip out to restock their pantry while Harry slept. Hannibal would need quite a few pigs to keep Harry properly fed in the coming weeks.

The rest of the afternoon was spent getting Harry acclimated to his new home. He asked more questions about magic and the wizarding world. Hannibal took care to introduce the subject of wendigos to Harry. He made them out to be whimsical characters who could walk through dreams and shape-shift. Hannibal would reveal the truth to him in small increments. There was no need to rush into anything. Harry would be introduced to the subject slowly and carefully once his bond with Hannibal was firmly established.

That night Harry helped him cook their first meal together in their home. It felt nice to have someone to share a meal with. Hannibal often had his ‘friends’ over or threw dinner parties for the socialites of Baltimore but it was different with Harry. The boy was going to be a permanent fixture in his life. The child would be his family someone he would never have to hide from, someone he could be himself with. Hannibal would never have to eat alone again.

One Month Later

Hannibal stirred from his slumber as he felt a gentle poke to his side. It was the very early hours of the morning and he had an unexpected guest in his bedroom. It was becoming more and more common for Hadrian to wake him up for meals during the night. But Hannibal didn’t mind.

“Papa,” Hadrian’s plaintive voice whispered. “Papa?”

“Yes, Hadrian?” Hannibal murmured.

“I’m hungry,” Hadrian whispered plaintively.

Hannibal sat up and looked over at the child. Hadrian’s hair was a wild tangle having just woken up. Despite the darkness in the room his dark green eyes were locked firmly on him. His vision had vastly improved to the point of him gaining the night vision possessed by all wendigos. The color of his eyes had also been changing. Hannibal predicted that by the end of the month the color will have darkened completely to match his own reddish brown. However, the color of his eyes was the only outward sign of the change as of yet. Being able to change forms was the very last stage of the transformation. All of the other, significant modifications were occurring inside. His instincts were sharpening and changing to match the predator he was soon going to become. All of his senses were going stronger, and most importantly his hunger had developed.

The past month had been going exceedingly well. Hadrian was adjusting wonderfully to his new life. He was adapting to the transformation better than Hannibal had predicted. It was like Hadrian had always been meant to go down this path.

“Well, we should get you something to eat then,” Hannibal said easily rising from the bed, and putting on his robe.

He swept Hadrian into his arms, and carried him down into the kitchen. Hadrian cut the vegetables while Hannibal prepared the meat and eggs for a rich protein scramble. The two of them had fallen easily into this rhythm. Hannibal had been worried about inviting Hadrian to help him, and that despite his previous experience in the kitchen he would still get in the way. But Hadrian was an excellent listener and picked up the skills Hannibal taught him quickly. There had been moments of discontent between them where Hadrian had tested him. Just as any child tests their parent or guardian to see how much they could get away with before they reached the limit of their patience. Hadrian had been in a very restrictive environment. His new life with Hannibal provided him with a sense of freedom he did not previously have. It was only natural for him to try and stretch the boundaries of his new environment. To test and see how Hannibal would react. Of course Hannibal was firm with him and enforced his rules in a strict but much gentler manner than his aunt and uncle had.  

Hadrian had responded wonderfully to his efforts. Their relationship had grown in leaps and bounds. Hadrian felt safe and comfortable with Hannibal now, and didn’t want to displease him. Hadrian had recently begun to call him papa. It had been a huge victory for Hannibal. Referring to him as papa meant that Hadrian now trusted him. It would not be long now until Hadrian’s metamorphosis was complete. In fact it could be any day now. It would be important for Hannibal to begin to introduce Hadrian to just what Hannibal was and what he would soon become. In fact Hannibal thought Hadrian was ready for the final stage of the transformation, and there was a catalyst that Hannibal could provide that would push Hadrian through that last step.

“I’ve been really, really hungry lately. I just want to eat all the time. I’ve never been this hungry before,” Hadrian observed as they sat down to their very early breakfast.

Hannibal gently brushed back Hadrian’s hair before responding. “Hmm, have you noticed anything else strange?”

“I can see better. When we have our lessons I don’t have to scrunch up my face to see the letters anymore. I can see in the dark, too. Is this something that can happen because of my magic?”

“No, I don’t believe that is something that your magic can change,” Hannibal said making sure to sound thoughtful.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Hadrian worried.

“No, my little one. I think you may be changing,” Hannibal announced as if the idea had just occurred to him.

“Changing? Into what?” Hadrian gasped in concern.

“You remember when I told you that I wasn’t exactly a wizard?” Hadrian nodded. “Do you remember what I told you about wendigos?”

“They’re magical people that can turn into a feathered stag. They also need to eat a lot because they have really powerful mind magic and because they’re really strong and fast. So they need lots of food to fuel them,” Hadrian answered promptly.

“Very good. I’m a wendigo, Hadrian,” Hannibal explained.

“So you can turn into a deer?” Hadrian said looking intrigued. Of course as a child he was easily distracted from his own changes by the fact that Hannibal could shape-shift.

“A ravenstag, but yes I can transform. I believe that you are turning into one as well,” Hannibal paused to see Hadrian’s reaction.

“Me? But how?” Hadrian’s eyes were wide.

“It is very rare but sometimes when a strong bond is formed between a wendigo and another person that person can be turned into a wendigo. I think that the two of us have formed a very strong father-son relationship these past few weeks, don’t you?”

Hadrian nodded and smiled.

“So, my turning into a wendigo is kind of like me becoming your real son?” Hadrian enthused.

“Yes, it is exactly like that,” Hannibal agreed, pleased that he was taking things so well. “We can check and make sure that this is what is happening, if you wish.”

“How can we do that?”

“Remember when I told you that wendigos could go into the dreams of others?” Hadrian nodded. “I want to go into your mind to check. It will be there that I can see if you really are turning into a wendigo like myself. Your mind will be shaped differently. Would you like to be a wendigo like me, Hadrian?”

“Yes, more than anything,” Hadrian said simply.

“Well then, would you let me into your mind?”

“Okay,” Hadrian agreed hesitantly.

That was all the permission that Hannibal needed. The willing acceptance of possession would give Hadrian that much needed last push in his transformation.

“This won’t hurt a bit,” Hannibal smiled as he leaned forward and placed his hands on either side of Hadrian’s skull.

Hadrian closed his eyes. Hannibal closed his as well as he began the journey into his mindscape. He had been visiting Hadrian’s mind garden nightly. The once colorful and bountiful garden had darkened and decayed. Thorny black rose bushes sprawled across the vast meadows destroying the weaker plants. Huge hedgerows were starting to grow and stretch towards the sky to create a twisting maze. Along the edges a dark and jagged forest had taken shape, and the dreamscape had fallen into eternal twilight. It was beautiful to Hannibal’s eyes. A true sign of how far Hadrian had come.

The soul shard inside the mausoleum was slowly succumbing to the dark presence of Hannibal’s blood and magic. Hannibal was pleased although he would have liked a way to extract the shard to study its source. He was fairly certain it came from the Dark Lord who had tried to kill Hadrian but failed. But he wanted to know more about this wizard, and having a piece of soul would have given him access to all his knowledge. It was no matter, however, he would much rather prefer that Hadrian complete the change than keep the soul fragment.

Unlike his previous trips to Hadrian’s mind Hannibal purposely sought out the boy’s consciousness. He found him deep within the hedge maze in the last remaining vestige of light. It was a gazebo made of white marble stone and gold highlights. It was the source of Hadrian’s magical core. Before Hannibal hadn’t been able to get near such pure magic. Now he had been invited and the rest of the boy’s mind had fallen prey to Hannibal’s blood and the influence of his own mind, significantly weakening it. Hadrian lay in the middle of the gazebo sleeping.

“Hadrian,” Hannibal called.

The boy’s eyes flew open and found his own. “Papa? Where am I?”

“Inside your mind,” Hannibal answered as he walked to the edge of the gazebo’s steps.

“Really? This is my mind?” Hadrian questioned glancing around.

“Indeed it is. I will teach you how to navigate it better once the process is complete.”

“What process? I thought you just had to check,” Hadrian frowned.

“You are indeed becoming a wendigo. You need guidance through your first transformation. I’m going to help you,” Hannibal assured him.

“I can turn into a ravenstag?” Hadrian asked eagerly walking across the gazebo to stand on the steps in front of Hannibal.

“You will be. Take my hand, now let’s walk back into the middle of the gazebo,” Hadrian did as he asked without question. He didn’t notice the way that the gazebo’s white floor blackened everywhere Hannibal stepped.

“Now Hadrian don’t be afraid I’m going to transform. Then my horns are going to pierce you. It won’t hurt but it will if you struggle. Try to relax you are going to be just fine. I promise,” Hannibal soothed.

“Why do you have to stab me?” Hadrian worried.

“It is the easiest way to infuse you with my power and complete the transformation. And remember this isn’t real. This is just in your mind. In reality you won’t be harmed at all.” Truthfully this process would be killing the last human part of Hadrian and free the wendigo waiting to emerge. It would emerge on it’s own eventually by ripping its way through the human part. But Hannibal thought he would speed things along.

“Okay,” Hadrian said looking a little frightened.

Hannibal gave him a rare hug to calm him down. The boy melted into the embrace once more trusting Hannibal, which ultimately be his downfall. Hannibal knew he needed to act quickly while Hadrian was momentarily calmed and trusting. Hannibal took his ravenstag form, and without any hesitation he lowered his head and stepped forward. His sharp horns impaled Hadrian. Hannibal retreated swiftly and shifted back to watch as Hadrian’s blood spilled out and the boy collapsed against the white marble. His blood spilled across the white gazebo and caused it to darken. The structure quivered and shook. The white became black. The gold became silver. And the delicate accents of the gazebo became elegant but deadly spires.

Hannibal retreated from Hadrian’s mindscape. Once back into his own mind he opened his eyes to better observe the change firsthand. Hadrian’s eyes were closed tight and he was deeply locked into his own mind as the transformation took hold. Hannibal settled him carefully onto some pillows to make him as comfortable as possible.

It started slowly. His skin began to blacken. The structure of his legs shifted to those of a stag’s with tiny little black cloven hooves. Small little horns that would one day branch out to deadly peaks appeared on his forehead. The change paused for a moment before continuing into the form of a ravenstag or a ravenfawn would be a more accurate description. Hannibal couldn’t help but smile at the adorable picture Hadrian presented with his horn buds, downy black feathers, and gray-spotted black fur of a young fawn. Then Hadrian once more returned to his human form. He had completed it. He had survived. There was always the risk he wouldn’t survive the final transformation.

Hadrian opened his eyes and looked up at him with his own dark maroon eyes. Hadrian smiled up at him. Hannibal was no longer alone. He had a son. Hannibal smiled back down at him.

Chapter Text

"How are you feeling, Hadrian?" Hannibal asked.

It was only moments after Hadrian had completed his transformation. Hannibal wanted to gauge what his mental state was so that he could precede accordingly.

"Papa," was all Hadrian said in a slight daze. His pupils were unnaturally dilated.

"Yes, Hadrian. I'm right here," Hannibal leaned closer to reassure the child with his presence.

"I'm hungry," Hadrian whispered. His blood soaked earth colored eyes locked on Hannibal's, and Hannibal felt the lightest of probes against the walls of his mind palace. Pride welled inside him that he was already attempting such things. He would be a strong and gifted boy.

"Well, we can't have that, my little one. Let's see if we can find you something to fill you up," Hannibal smiled and stroked the dark hair away from his face.

Three Years Later

Sarah Moore ran as fast as she could through the forest. It was dark save for the moonlight overhead, and every shadow seemed to be a monster in disguise waiting to drag her away. Sarah was a runner, and very conscientious of her health. She tried to run every day, and made sure she ate appropriate proportions and foods. This would be perfectly fine, good even, but Sarah also enjoyed pushing her own opinions on healthy living onto other people. In grocery stores she had no trouble walking up to others to tell them that what they were purchasing was wrong and unhealthy. Unfortunately, Sarah wasn't properly trained or educated in physical health and her ideas were often wrong. Sarah often came across as incredibly rude.

After work she had gone on a run on a local trail through the woods. It was a trail she ran frequently but today she seemed to have gotten turned around somehow. Before she knew it the sky was darkening and night had fallen. Sarah prided herself on being strong and independent but in that moment she was scared and didn't want to be alone. As she moved through the forest some deep instinctual part of her, carried over from the dark ages, told her she was being hunted. She ran faster and faster in an attempt to flee whatever was pursuing her. But she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and she tripped over a root. Dirt flew up everywhere as she went sprawling across the forest floor.

A pair of hooves came into her line of view. It was only a deer. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she looked up. Her sigh of relief was short lived and a scream escaped her lips as she looked up and caught sight of what was really hovering over her. It was a monster, a small but a monster nonetheless. Dark blood red eyes marbled with black looked back down at her. The jet-black face was round and childlike. The horns on its head were tiny budding spikes, and its lower half was that of a small deer. If deer had fluffy down feathers as well as fur. An impish smile curled across black lips to reveal a mouthful of razor sharp teeth that gleamed in the moonlight. The monster took a step towards her. Sarah started shuffling back in the undergrowth trying desperately to get to her feet and get away. The beast may not have been taller than she was but the unnaturally long claws, and viciously sharp teeth were certainly dangerous enough for her.

Finally she managed to get herself up to run. But the creature had somehow already moved in front of her. She turned to run the other way but it was there again. The monster giggled. There was no other world to describe the terrifying exclamation of mirth. The childish sound terrified her even more for it meant that the monster was playing with her. Apparently someone else thought so too.

"Hadrian, what have I told you about playing with your food?" Came a deep cultured voice from somewhere in the darkness between the trees.

Sarah was so startled by hearing that smooth, civilized voice in the middle of this ghastly nightmare that the words didn't immediately register with her. When they did her panic increased tenfold. Did he say… food?

"Sorry papa, I won't do it again," replied the little monster.

Terror consumed Sarah as the creature advanced on her. Her last sight was of a second pair of red eyes watching on from the shadows.

Three Years Later

Six years had come and gone since Hannibal had snuck off with little Harry Potter, and turned him into a monster. Tonight Hannibal was hosting a dinner party for several of his friends. It was a celebration for Hannibal's son. The dinner was a truly special occasion but not for graduating from elementary school like their guests believed. No, this was to celebrate Hadrian's triumphant hunts. For the meat for this meal that they were going to enjoy had been provided entirely by Hadrian. The eleven year old had picked his own victims, and then with a little help from Hannibal he'd stalked them, isolated them, and harvested them. Hannibal couldn't have been prouder. His little boy was growing up so fast.

It seemed like it was just the other day that Hadrian had completed his first change. The boy had been terribly disoriented at first, and he had struggled a great deal to control his hunger. No one had been safe from Hadrian's voracious appetite. He'd eaten a neighbor's pet or two, and he even tried to take a few bites out of Hannibal. But Hannibal hadn't taken it personally. He knew it was only natural for one so young to lack control over his appetite, and that's what parents were for. The insatiable hunger would have become even stronger than it had been during his transformation while his body was learning to adjust to its knew center of being. If he had been born a wendigo he would have learned to control it since birth. He had several years of learning control to make up for.

Hannibal had ended up having to lock him in his hidden basement for a short time. He would bring him back his victims for Hadrian to finish off, and to begin practicing his hunting skills. Hannibal had kept him there until he had learned enough control over his hunger. Hadrian had made quick progress but then again Hannibal was a wonderful teacher and a master of control. Hadrian had been a little bit upset when he'd finally gained control over himself again. He had eaten people after all, and even with his transformation and new set of instincts it had been a huge adjustment to the young child's surprisingly strong sense of morality. But Hannibal had ensured him that it was natural. They were predators, at the top of the food chain, and everything else was their prey. With Hadrian's new, fiercer instincts easing the way it was simple for Hannibal to conform Hadrian to these ideals.

For the first two years Hannibal had continued to bring victims home with him. But around the time Hadrian turned seven, when he had gained enough control not to lose himself to the frenzy, he started bringing Hadrian along on some of the easier kills. At first Hannibal only allowed him to watch him. He needed to prove himself capable of following Hannibal's instructions, and so that he could learn new hunting skills through watching Hannibal's own approach. Slowly Hannibal had allowed Hadrian to help him with a kill here and there. Hannibal also took him hunting magical creatures where the boy could test his superior speed and strength against other powerful beasts.

His skills had vastly improved over the years. Hadrian still needed help tracking down his victims and making sure he took them from secluded areas. As well as for the actual harvesting of key organs. Hannibal had been teaching him how to properly wield a scalpel but he was only eleven, and he had a long way to go before he reached the skill level that Hannibal possessed. But with the tenacity and ferocity Hadrian had been gifted with Hannibal was certain that he would pick them up in no time. Hannibal had also taken the time to have regular lessons in the magic and in the mind. They studied the darker more secretive magic and rituals of wendigos. Hadrian was doing well with both, and he excelled in slipping into others minds. He enjoyed the manipulation, and twisting of minds as much as Hannibal did.

The two of them had spent the day preparing this meal, and Hadrian was quite excited to share it with others. They had invited several of his friends from school as well their parents, acquaintances of Hannibal's. Hadrian's cooking skills had vastly improved, and it was a hobby that the two of them enjoyed doing together along with their more illegal activities. There were many other pursuits that Hadrian enjoyed that deviated from Hannibal's own interests. Hannibal had allowed his son the freedom to choose hobbies that differed from his own. He did not want his son to feel that he had to conform and enjoy every hobby that Hannibal did.

Hannibal's own tastes tended to run towards more refined things while Hadrian had taken up more physical pursuits and played both soccer and lacrosse, which was understandable due to his youth. Hannibal enjoyed going to his games to interact with and analyze the other parents. In the past six years Hannibal had never been bored, and he had never felt lonely. As the guests started to arrive Hadrian went to greet them and show them the way to the dining room.

Hannibal could not have been prouder as he watched his son. He wore black slacks and a red cashmere sweater. His midnight black hair was neatly styled. Over the years they had worked hard to find ways to tame its wildness but they weren't always successful. His dark maroon eyes flashed red when they caught the right light giving away subtle hints of his darker nature.

Everyone always complimented him on what a sweet boy Hadrian Lecter was. For the past five years Hadrian had met and exceeded all of Hannibal's expectations. Hadrian listened intently to all the information that Hannibal had to impart, and used that information to better himself. He always conducted himself as cordially as possible, for a child, when in public. In private, when it was just the two of them, things were very different. The people Hadrian met in the dark of the night certainly wouldn't say he was a kind, and precocious little boy. No, they would say he was a vicious monster if they were capable of doing anything besides screaming when Hadrian had his hands on them. Of course this made Hannibal proud too.

"Thank you so much for inviting me, Dr. Lecter. Your son is absolutely adorable," his newest mentee, Alana Bloom, said by way of greeting.

She was a lovely young woman with dark hair and blue eyes. She was one of the few humans whose presence he didn't find utterly abhorrent. Alana was also one of the most promising students he'd seen in a long time so of course he had agreed to become her mentor her during her residency. He wanted a hand in shaping the kind of psychiatrist she would later become. Alana was intriguing. She was one of those rare, truly decent people who had a very strong sense of morality, and truly wanted to help others. She didn't just want to further her own interests. When crossed she could be fierce, almost vicious. She was unafraid to stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves. Alana didn't give up; she fought to the very end, and used her considerable intellect to complete the goals she set before herself. Under the right circumstances he was certain she could prove herself to be highly entertaining.

This was the first time he had invited her over for a dinner party and this was the first time she had met Hadrian. She knew of Hadrian and asked after him quite a bit. Alana was hopeless when it came to children or those that she perceived as being vulnerable. It was one of her weaknesses. Hannibal hoped to exploit this weakness by having her form a bond with Hadrian and in turn with himself to keep her blind to his true nature. Alana was perceptive and one of the few who would be capable of realizing what he truly was. Of course he could have just manipulated her mind to suit his purposes but Hannibal preferred not to use his powers unless absolutely necessary. He enjoyed a challenge and getting Alana to trust him unconditionally without the use of his abilities would be a huge victory.

"He is a very bright child," Hannibal nodded his head in acknowledgment of her compliment.

"You've done a wonderful job with him. It's such a shame about his mother. I didn't realize that she had passed away," Alana shook her head sadly. Yes, she really was too kindhearted for her own good.

Hannibal had long ago spun the story that Hadrian was his child with an old acquaintance in England. He hadn't known about his existence until he was five when that acquaintance had died in an automobile accident, and he had gained custody of him. The story never failed to gain sympathy, and added another layer to his already impeccable mask. People never suspected the busy single father who had stepped up to the plate to care for a child he'd never known about of any wrongdoings.

"Yes, unfortunately she did. Mercifully he doesn't remember much about his time before he came to live with me. So he is spared from the sense that he is missing something in his life," Hannibal responded.

"That and you're a very good father. Hadrian mentioned that he could speak French and Lithuanian. An impressive feat for an eleven year old," Alana smiled.

"I can't take credit for it all. He is very studious child."

"Papa, the last guest has just arrived," Hadrian appeared at their sides. A year ago Hadrian had taken to calling him father in public; although, he was still papa in private. It was a sure sign that his little boy was growing up.

"Why don't you go ahead and take a seat Alana, the first course will be delivered in just a moment," Hannibal led her back to the dining room.

"You invited Mr. Johnson?" Hadrian accused wrinkling his nose at the thought of his elementary school principal.

"He was your principal for the last six years. It was only polite to invite him to the graduation party," Hannibal replied, although he too found the man odious. He was far too much of bootlicker for Hannibal's tastes. The man had known Hannibal was very wealthy, and held a high position in Baltimore's high society. He spent Hadrian's school years sucking up to Hannibal and Hadrian hoping for a place among the wealthy.

"Can I eat him?" Hadrian pleaded, giving Hannibal a beseeching look that was almost a pout. But Hadrian knew how Hannibal felt about pouting and whining so he refrained.

"We shall see," Hannibal said finally with an indulgent smile. The man was rather rude and it was Hadrian's party after all.

Hadrian flashed a feral grin.

The dinner party went off without a hitch. Hannibal had invited those that considered themselves to be his friends. In reality they were those that he found the most interesting to allow multiple meetings, and viewed to be only slightly better than the rest of the two-legged pigs. Deceiving them was simple and enjoyable. After the party, for doing so well, he took Hadrian to hunt his principal. He brought them both into the woods and allowed the young wendigo to stretch the legs of his growing ravenstag form. Hadrian had lost most of his fawn spots but his feathers still had the fluffier down of a young ravenstag. His horns had grown a bit but they were small spikes horns and hadn't yet started branching off.

Hadrian was still a child no matter how much control he had over himself. There were still times he just needed to let loose, and be childish. Hannibal didn't mind allowing him that freedom. Hadrian enjoyed the thrill of the chase so Hannibal made sure to give him as many opportunities to go on hunts as often as possible. He did not yet have a taste for the finer aspects of the hunt and creating displays like Hannibal did. One day he would.

/

The next morning Hannibal woke to the screeching of a bird. He pulled on his bathrobe and made his way down to the kitchen. He discovered Hadrian clutching a struggling snowy white owl in his hands. There was obvious shock on Hadrian's face, and Hannibal had to admit he was a bit surprised as well.

"Why is there an owl in our kitchen?" Hannibal questioned calmly.

"It was taping on the window, and when I opened the window to shoo it away it flew onto the counter. It has a note on its leg but when I went to take the note it started shrieking at me. It bit me," Hadrian glared at the owl.

Hannibal reached out to take the note from the bird. It was easy now that Hadrian was holding it prisoner. He was surprised to see it was an admission letter from Hogwarts addressed to Harry J. Potter in green ink. Hannibal thought after the transformation that the wizards wouldn't be able to track Hadrian down by searching for Harry Potter because Harry Potter no longer existed. It was well past Hadrian's eleventh birthday in fact he would be twelve in just two and half months. Unless… Hannibal took a closer look at the owl. The creature looked like it had been run ragged. It was thinner than it should have been and many of its feathers were missing or broken like it had spent months of its own. Had the poor thing spent an entire year trying to deliver its letter, unwilling to give up its search? The owl would have been a beautiful snowy white owl had it not suffered through so much. There was an intelligence and magic to the owl that was not commonly seen even in wizarding owls. Somehow the owl had managed to track Hadrian down through sheer force of will. Hannibal could respect such a creature's tenacity.

"Hmm, we should feed her. She has traveled a long way and it looks like she could use it," Hannibal pulled out a dish of water and some meat for her.

"Set her on the counter," Hannibal commanded.

Hadrian gave him a wide-eyed look. He knew that Hannibal took the cleanliness of his kitchen very seriously and allowing a bird on it was something that was very out of character for him. In fact it would have been more like him to kill the owl for daring to dirty his windows.

"It's all right, we will clean it later," Hannibal assured him.

"Why would a wizard have sent us a letter?" Hadrian asked as he watched the owl quickly gulp down the water and food. Of course Hadrian was well aware of the wizarding world and its customs. He remembered that he was once a wizard named Harry Potter, and Hannibal had continued to teach him about wizards even long after he stopped being one.

"It is from a wizarding school in Scotland. They offered you a place in their school," Hannibal replied handing him the letter.

"But I'm not a wizard anymore," Hadrian frowned.

"No, you are still capable of learning to use their magic. Of course there are certain spells like the Patronus charm, which are light magic spells that are far too beyond our capabilities. We are dark creatures after all," Hannibal explained.

"True, but this letter is for Harry Potter. I'm not really him anymore," Hadrian noted.

"No, you are not. But they do not know that. No doubt they are desperate to find you, and sent out the letters in hopes that it would lead them to you. You are the closest approximation to Harry Potter there is in this world, which is why this ingenious bird came to you. The others ignored that similarity but this owl was intelligent enough to understand what that similarity meant," Hannibal scratched the owl under the chin.

"Do you think anyone else from the wizarding world will be able to find me?" Hadrian asked his brow creasing.

"I do not know. I do not think so. It has been six years, and you have undergone a complete metamorphosis. I think it is sheer luck that this owl was able to. The others have all given up but not this one. It recognizes that you're not quite Harry Potter and that is the reason it bit you upon trying to take the letter. You are all that is left of him, and that is why it came to you," Hannibal mused.

"I wonder if the wizards still think Harry Potter is alive. They had to have some sort of hope that he was because they sent out the letters. Now, however, that the owls were unsuccessful I wonder if they will continue searching," Hadrian questioned thoughtfully.

"Are you happy you aren't Harry Potter?" Hannibal asked.

Hadrian was silent for a long moment as he thought. "Yes. I'm happy to be Hadrian Lecter. I wouldn't want to be anyone else," he finally replied with utter certainty.

"I'm glad to hear that, now I think we should keep the owl. We can't have her returning to the wizards knowing our location, and she is very resourceful and intelligent. What would you like to name her?" Hannibal asked.

"Hedwig," Hadrian answered promptly.

Hannibal lifted an eyebrow in question.

"I read it in a book. It was the first thing that popped into my head," Hadrian defended.

"Hedwig it is," Hannibal agreed leaning across the counter to scratch the owl's head.

Hedwig hooted imperiously.

/

Later in the day Hadrian rode his bike to the park. He may have been a wendigo with an appetite for human flesh but he was still a young boy, and he enjoyed similar pursuits as other young boys. It was the first day of his summer vacation and he wanted to enjoy his free time. Hadrian met up with a few acquaintances from school, and they played a game of soccer. Hadrian hoped the game would help to take his mind off things.

The owl and the letter had stirred up quite a few thoughts for him. Hadrian hadn't lied; he really didn't want to be Harry Potter. He much preferred his life as Hadrian Lecter even if his father hadn't been completely honest with him in the beginning. His papa had only been doing what he thought was best. He took Hadrian far away from the Dursleys, and kept him from a life of being worshipped for an event he didn't even remember. Hadrian was glad that his papa had chosen him to become his son.

Hadrian loved being a wendigo and all the strength and fierce grace that came with it. He was a predator at the top of the food chain with senses and speed that others only dreamed of having. Hadrian was capable of scenting fear from miles away, and he had the power to control and shape the nightmares of others. There were few other creatures out there who would be capable of overpowering a wendigo, and Hadrian respected his power. But sometimes he wondered what it was like back in England. His papa had told him all about Voldemort and his attack on him as a baby. He had once been the British wizarding world's savior. Hadrian had had a piece of the man's soul inside of him. But it had been destroyed after his first transformation. Or so they both believed. The two of them could no longer sense or locate the piece of soul and therefore believed that it had not survived the transformation.

In the middle of the scrimmage Hadrian experienced an excruciating pain in his skull. It sent him to his knees. Hadrian could hear the other boys calling out to him but Hadrian was sinking inward, into the depths of his mind maze, searching out the cause for his sudden pain. His papa had taught him a great deal about how to navigate mindscapes, taking him on trips into the minds of their victims and even allowing him to explore certain sections of the vast medieval castle made of black stone that his papa had built within his mind throughout his long years. Hadrian had built his own mindscape into a towering and twisting hedge maze full of traps and wrong turns. It was a maze only he and his papa would have been capable of navigating. Even the most skilled wizard Legilimens would have had trouble traveling too deeply into Hadrian's maze.

Hadrian instantly ran through the rows of his maze seeking out the source of his pain. It led him deep into his mindscape in a forgotten section of his mind. The source of his agony was a small building of some sort that had been covered with black thorny rose vines and the thick consuming branches of the hedges. Hadrian frowned as he brushed aside these branches so that he could get a better look at just what it was. When he did finally get a good look Hadrian was shocked by his discovery. Both he and his father had believed that the soul piece that had latched onto his as an infant had long since been destroyed by the darkness of his wendigo blood. But it seemed that wasn't the case. It had merely been weakened to the point of near nonexistence because here it stood extremely weak yet still holding on, and somehow regaining strength. The soul piece inside was moving and Hadrian decided to take a peek inside. It was like being a movie theater and looking up at the large screen. The movie that was playing was that of the view from the main soul piece's eyes. It seemed that he had recently been resurrected.

Hadrian was perturbed. He strengthened the walls around the soul shard in an attempt to stifle the agony it was causing him. The cause of the pain seemed to be from the soul's attempts to take over more space in Harry's mind as it was revitalized from the surge of power from its main soul piece. A link had developed between the soul fragment lodged in Hadrian's mind, and the main soul allowing the influx of power. Hadrian worked quickly to put a stop to the link. He only hoped that it would work. His papa had been training him in the mind arts but this was a connection that even his papa was unfamiliar with. Such soul link between living beings was unprecedented. Hadrian could only hope to put a stop to the link temporarily to keep Voldemort from discovering the connection. A more permanent solution would need to be discovered before Voldemort discovered the link between the minds and exploited it.

When he finished blocking the link and closing off the soul piece in an even tighter cage he finally allowed his mind to float back into consciousness. He woke to find his papa hovering over him. Worry clear in his maroon gaze as he knelt on the ground his fine green plaid suit. Hadrian was still lying in the grass in the park. His papa had sent his friends off and stood watch over him.

"I sensed your pain, and came as quickly as I could. I was just about to come in after you. Initially, I did not want to disturb you in the event it caused further problems, as I did not know the cause of your malady. What happened, my little one?" his papa questioned in concern.

Hadrian highlighted the pain he had felt, and what he had witnessed inside his mind.

His papa frowned. "May I take look?"

Hadrian nodded his acceptance. His papa took a quick cursory look through his mind, and checked over the restored soul piece.

"Hmm, I had thought it had been destroyed in the initial change. However, it appears it was so weakened that its aura became nearly nonexistent, and the soul itself became dormant. This is why we did not detect it sooner. Now that Voldemort has been restored so too has the soul piece. It seems as if the dark wizard has gotten his hands on a power source to restore himself. His restoration will cause you great problems, and we need to remove the soul shard as soon as possible."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Hadrian questioned.

"Over the years I have thought of several ways to safely remove a soul shard from a living creature. It was a puzzle that I did not have the answer to when you were younger. I always regretted the missed opportunity to study a horcrux firsthand. But of course your safety came before such explorations. I think I can safely remove it from you now and transfer the soul piece to another object."

"I don't like the thought of someone's else's soul leeching off mine," Hadrian's nose wrinkled in disgust. For the moment the fragmented wizard was unaware of the connection and that a piece of soul resided in another living being. Hadrian wanted to keep it that way. Who knows the power the wizard would gain from having unfettered access to a wendigo's mind.

The two of them returned home. His papa set up the ritual using a mixture of his blood and the venom of a young basilisk the two of them had slain together a year before. Hadrian watched with interest as his papa drew dark and ancient runes in a language known only to wendigos. His papa had been teaching him some of them and Hadrian knew enough to recognize the ones on the floor were to separate and contain. Once the runes were complete Hadrian stood in the center with a small ornate silver box, which would be the new vessel for the soul shard. His papa took his true form standing nearly seven feet tall on his cloven hooves and seeming even taller thanks to the twisting sharp peaks of his horns. He slowly began to circle as he invoked the runes. As the power flooded the basement, and whipped around him, his papa placed his hands onto his forehead. It almost felt as if his hands were going straight through his skull to pluck out the soul fragment, and drag it out of him.

The soul piece didn't want to leave its safe and comfortable home where it had resided for the last decade. But Hadrian's papa wasn't backing down. He gripped the fragment in a strong firm hold and yanked it out of him. The soul shard tried to grapple for purchase and tried to digs its claws in. Hadrian had claws of his own. On a silent command the roses within Hadrian's mind surged up and attacked the foreign entity. With nothing else to hold onto the soul piece lost its grip on Hadrian's mind and his papa was able to safely pull it free from him. The piece was then settled into the silver box.

The entire endeavor lasted less than five minutes but it left both wendigos reeling with exhaustion. The newly created horcrux was put away in a safe location in the basement. Hadrian and his papa climbed the stairs for a quick meal before going to bed early to recharge their strength. They were both relieved that the ritual had been a success. There would be plenty of time to examine the horcrux and learn more about the wizard's intentions after they had rested. His papa gave a quick kiss to his hair that had Hadrian giving him a hug back. Hadrian was growing older and therefore less prone to fits of seeking physical comfort from his papa. In this instance Hadrian was willing to overlook that he was almost twelve. The resurgence of the soul fragment had scared him a bit and he wanted the comfort that his papa offered him. He was used to being the fiercest hunter around. Hadrian hadn't liked that he had been momentarily incapacitated, and was resolved that he would never feel that way again. He wanted to hunt down the wizard that had dared try to kill him a baby and prove that he was the superior predator. He would need to grow up a bit first but with his papa's help he knew he would be more than capable of laying waste to the dark wizard or anyone else who threatened him.

/

Six years had come and gone since the brutal murder of the Dursleys and the disappearance of the wizarding world's savior. Albus Dumbledore Headmaster of Hogwarts and one of the leaders of the wizarding had held out hope that there still might be a chance that Harry was alive. The alerts and security measures that Dumbledore had placed on Harry indicated that Harry had never been physically or magically harmed. There was no sign that he had perished. Harry should have been alive somewhere out there. Unfortunately, all of their searches for their boy savior were utterly fruitless.

Dumbledore had been hopeful that Harry's Hogwarts letter would help them find the missing child where all other methods had failed. The magic was ancient and strong, and capable of finding any magical child who had been born within the borders of Hogwarts school district. Dumbledore had continued to send out letters several months into the school year. The owls all returned, save for a few newer delivery owls that had gotten lost and never made it back. But none of them had made it to Harry or at least they never received a response back. However, by the time Halloween rolled around he quickly realized that there was no hope of finding him through the letters, and he stopped sending them. The only reason the owls wouldn't have been able to find Harry was because the boy was dead. The hope that the Boy-Who-Lived was alive fizzled out. Dumbledore himself had given up. There were no leads as to who his killer might have been, and it seemed that the prophecy was no longer relevant. The wizarding world finally mourned the passing of their boy hero.

By the end of the school year Dumbledore had several other more pressing problems to deal with anyway. Voldemort had been possessing one of his professors all year, and managed to get his hands on the Philosopher's Stone. Several students had tried to stop him but they were unsuccessful in making it through the traps protecting the stone. With the stone Voldemort had been able to make himself a new body, a body that was more powerful than his previous one due to the regenerative properties of the stone. The wizarding world was in an uproar. Some believed that Voldemort had returned while others strongly insisted that it was all a ruse.

However, when Voldemort broke out the prisoners in Azkaban they soon realized their error. The Dark Lord was fully restored to his full power, and the boy that had saved them last time was long dead. Voldemort disappeared after the breakout to plot and scheme but his interference brought to light new information that had been hidden for the past ten years. Sirius Black was discovered to be an innocent man when Peter Pettigrew was found to be alive and well having spent the last eleven years living as a rat. When Voldemort returned he had eagerly returned to the Dark Lord's side revealing the fact that he had been one of his followers the entire time. With his name cleared Sirius Black was out for revenge. With the death of his godson he had very little left to lose. He gave his family home to be the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, which had been reinstated as soon as Voldemort had restored his body. Sirius devoted the rest of his life to seeing Voldemort destroyed, and to discovering what truly happened to his godson.

Chapter Text

Sirius Black had been out of Azkaban for six months now. He’d taken up the position as a the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts at the urging of his one remaining friend after a nasty run in with his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, that nearly cost him his life. Remus had insisted that he needed some time away from the thick of things to calm down and put things in perspective. Continuing on with his reckless behavior would just get himself killed, and then he would never be able to discover what had truly happened to his godson Harry.

Sirius didn’t care about dying; after all he had nothing left to live for. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready to go to his grave without knowing what exactly had happened to his godson. The belief was that it had been some muggle killer with a vendetta against the Dursleys considering the way the bodies had been displayed and because their son had been given a muggle drug. Everyone just assumed that the wards surrounding their home must have fallen after their deaths, and the cousin’s blood hadn’t been enough to maintain them.

Sirius wasn’t so sure. If it had been a muggle killer why had they taken Harry and left Dudley alive and unharmed? It didn’t sit right with Sirius that they would have left the muggle boy behind but they had taken Harry. The not knowing was what truly bothered him. What sort of person had taken his godson? What had they done with him? How had he spent his last hours without anyone there to comfort him? These were the thoughts that consumed him in his downtime and he felt truly awful to have failed his friend’s son in such a horrible manner. To have failed little Harry who he had loved as if he was his own son. How different would things have been if he had taken the time to calm down instead of just blindly running off after Wormtail? He wouldn’t have gone to Azkaban. Harry would have never gone to the Dursleys. And Harry would have never have been murdered. It was all his fault. If he had just waited and not let his Black temper get in the way none of this would have happened.

This was the reason he had listened to Remus, and taken up the teaching post. Sirius knew he had to take a step back from the situation, and think before he did something that he might later regret. For now he would focus on his students. They needed someone to prepare them for the horrors that were to come with Voldemort and his band of cronies running around. He thought of Harry and how no one had been there to teach him how to protect himself. Sirius would make sure that these children weren’t as defenseless as Harry had been when the monster who murdered him had come after him. It didn’t hurt that Snivellous was a professor as well, and pranking the dour man helped to lift his spirits.

///

“So Hadrian, tell me about your new school. Have you made any new friends?” Alana Bloom asked eagerly.

Hadrian was having lunch with Alana Bloom. His papa had gone away for a weekend long conference and Alana had insisted on being the one to watch him. Hadrian was more than capable of staying home alone for an entire weekend, not that anyone else was aware of it. He was still just twelve and for most people leaving a twelve-year-old boy alone for an entire weekend wasn’t something that was commonly done. For this reason Alana had come to spend the weekend with him.

Several months had passed since the horcrux had been successfully removed from Hadrian. His papa had been studying the horcrux. He had learned a great deal of information from the soul shard. The soul piece had access to the wizard’s memories all the way up to the moment when the soul was split off from the main piece. It also had a connection to the main piece, which allowed Hadrian and his papa the chance to observe what the wizard was currently up to.

“This is but one soul piece. He has split his soul more than once, a feat I did not think mortals were capable of. I believe he would have gone completely insane had he not gotten his hands on the Philosopher’s Stone. It restored his mind to health, however, should he discontinue to take regular doses of the Elixir of Life his mind will start to deteriorate once more. No one should split their soul in the way that this wizard has,” his papa had explained after his initial examination.

Hadrian had to agree. The dark wizard had been far too careless and desperate in his pursuit of immortality. He was simply glad that he had gotten rid of the piece of the dark wizard inside him. He had started junior high at a very prestigious school in Baltimore, and didn’t need headaches distracting him from his work. His papa didn’t expect perfection but he did expect Hadrian’s best efforts, and thanks to a wendigo’s incredible abilities of the mind Hadrian was able to remember anything.

Doing so well in school had its disadvantages. There were plenty of boys who attended the private school whose parents spent more time spending money than they did with their children. This created a lot of bullies who were out to make others as miserable as they were. Several had targeted Hadrian. He wasn’t allowed to eat them according to his papa. It would draw too much attention to himself if the bullies were to suddenly disappear. So he settled for visiting the dreams of his tormentors instead, and ensuring that they experienced some pretty horrific nightmares. He made sure he always starred as the monster in their nightmares, and soon they began to subconsciously fear him. They left him alone after that.

“It’s going well. I’ve made a few friends,” Hadrian offered with a bright smile to placate Alana.

“That’s really good. I’m so happy to hear that. You’re so much more mature than boys your age I had to admit that I was a little nervous about you,” Alana never afraid to speak her mind.

“Thank you for your concern but I really am fine, and I’m only mature around adults. My father really instilled manners in me,” Hadrian said memories of manner lessons flickering through his mind.

When Hadrian had first started living with his papa he had been so eager to please him that he had been willing to put up with long lessons on etiquette. Of course this had only been after Hadrian had gotten enough control over himself to stop ripping chunks out of Hannibal’s arms, and to hold his human form for longer than ten minutes. Sometimes he still slipped up. For example there had been incident during one of his soccer games the previous week.

He had made the school soccer team. They had quite a few games during the week and his papa had been able to attend only one of them so far. His game last week had been the first that his papa had attended, and Hadrian couldn’t help but show off a bit. A boy on the other team hadn’t taken kindly to the great game that Hadrian was playing and became aggressive with him. The large boy had tried shoving his shoulder into him, tripping him up, and had gone so far as to blatantly push him to the ground. Hadrian had felt his anger spiking, and his teeth sharpening. He may have come a long way in learning to control his more vicious side but he was still young, and sometimes experiencing strong emotions got the best of him. Hadrian had found himself preparing to attack the other boy. His fingernails had started darkening and lengthening. However, his papa had caught his eye just in time. One stern look from his papa had him instantly calming down. He certainly didn’t want to risk his father’s wrath or disappointment for revenge against one stupid boy. For the rest of the game Hadrian did his best to outrun and avoid the human boy.

After the game Hadrian had gone back to the locker room to change. They had won the game and their coach had given them a congratulatory speech. Hadrian then made his way over to where his father was speaking with a large man in a sports jersey who was shouting in his papa’s face. The man must have been an idiot not to recognize the deadly look in his papa’s sanguine eyes.

“You misunderstand, Mr. Allard. My son was not cheating. In fact it was your child who seemed to have some difficulty keeping his hands off my son,” his papa had said as calmly as ever. But then again his papa used the same tone of voice when speaking to his victims so perhaps it wasn’t a good thing.

“I hate when we play rich, hoity-toity teams. They always think they’re better than us, and their kids are always spoiled little cry babies who can’t take a few little taps,” the man, Mr. Allard apparently, had spat back. Spittle had actually hit his papa’s cheek and Hadrian could see that it was in that moment that his papa decided that this man would soon be joining them for dinner.

“Perhaps people’s aversion to you Mr. Allard is not because they are wealthier than you are but because you are seriously lacking in manners,” his papa had offered politely.

“I’ll show you manners,” Mr. Allard had snarled, his fists clenching.

His had father barely spared a glance for his fists, and looked entirely unimpressed with his display of aggression.

“I seriously doubt that, Mr. Allard. But I would love to have you for dinner. It would give you a chance to redeem your rather brutish behavior,” his father had purred.

The offer had thrown the man and he immediately began making retorts about his papa ‘coming on’ to him. He then stomped off.

“What would you prefer sausage or liver pate?” his papa had asked.

“Sausage,” Hadrian had responded with a grin.

His papa had rewarded him with a gleaming smile.

“This sausage is really good,” Alana complimented. “But then again everything your father makes is delicious.”

“Yup, father always insists on doing everything handmade. He doesn’t often trust other people making his food,” Hadrian grinned as he watched Alana eat. He had to admit that he understood his papa’s morbid fascination with watching others eat his food. That and the puns. His papa’s morbid sense of humor almost always had Hadrian working furiously to control his laughter.

“Well, how about after me go and get some sundaes? They may not be up to Hannibal’s standards but I bet you don’t get to go to places like that very often,” Alana said with a mischievous grin as if they were sharing a secret between the two of them

Hadrian sometimes wondered if Alana forget that he was closer to being a teenager than the little boy she seemed to think he was. Hadrian didn’t mind too much. The younger she thought him the easier it would be to get away with things. So he agreed to ice cream, and the two of them headed out to a local ice cream parlor. Hadrian enjoyed his sundae even though he tended to enjoy the more savory tastes of meat to sweets. It was while the two of them were enjoying their sundaes that Hadrian caught sight of something peculiar. A man in robes disappeared into the alley across from the ice cream shop. He just melted through the brick wall. No one else had noticed the rather obvious disappearance so Hadrian came to the conclusion that there were wards preventing humans from noticing.

Hadrian felt excitement surge through him. This was the entrance to the small wizard shopping center that Baltimore boasted. Hadrian had been begging his papa to take him since he got his letter from Hogwarts. He knew quite a bit about the wizarding world but he had never actually step foot among wizards before. Hadrian was eager to see them up close for himself. He glanced over at Alana. There was no way he would have been able to slip away from her. Besides if did she would call his papa, and then he would be in even more trouble if his papa had to come home to help find him. But Hadrian thought that he might be able to manipulate her mind a bit. He’d come a long way in mind magic and slipping Alana into a hypnotic, trance like state would be a simple thing.

“Alana,” he said so that she would turn and make eye contact with him. The moment she did he slipped into her mind, and brought her into that highly suggestive trance like state. Once her blue eyes were appropriately glazed over he knew that his attempt had been a success.

“You’re going to go back to my house. I went with you. You have a lot of schoolwork to finish up, and so you’ll leave me alone for the rest of the day. But I am in the house. I haven’t left all day,” Hadrian pushed the suggestion into her mind.

Alana didn’t nod she just stood and went about completing his orders. It wasn’t a perfect form of manipulation. There was the risk that someone would be able to wake her from it but hopefully she wouldn’t encounter anyone else on her way back to the house. As long as that happened she should be fine and she wouldn’t be any wiser that he had gone off on his own for the rest of the day. It would also mean that his father wouldn’t know that he had gone off on his own.

With Alana out of the way Hadrian approached the blockade for the wizarding world. He tested the seemingly solid brick barrier and was pleased when his hand just went right through. Feeling a surge of excitement spread through him he stepped into the barrier. Hadrian was slightly awed by what he saw. The street appeared old with a cobbled path and the shops themselves seemed far older than the city of Baltimore. Hadrian concluded that the wizarding alley had been here long before the human’s had decided to build a city around it. The more he wondered around the shopping alley the more he realized it was more of a small town. There was a suburban area where there were strictly homes. Hadrian took a peek at a couple of them wanting to learn more about every day wizarding life.

He took a look in the shops and stopped in the bookstore looking through some of them to look up more information about himself. He was halfway through one of the books when he overheard the hushed voices.

“There’s been another attack over in England,” one voice whispered to another.

“It’s getting bad over there. Thankfully we have an ocean to separate us from that madman,” said the other.

“Yeah, but what happens when he gets bored and turns his sights over here. They say he’s immortal. He came back from the dead. How could we stop a guy like that?” the first voice hissed back.

“I don’t know, let’s just hope he’s satisfied with taking over Europe,” the second voice said dismissively as the two of them left.

Hadrian couldn’t help but be curious. Voldemort held a large curiosity for him considering his past. One day Hadrian hoped to meet the crazed wizard face to face. If for nothing more than to repay him for trying to kill him as a baby, and unintentionally turn him into a horcrux.

Hadrian left the wizarding alley satisfied with the day he had spent. He’d enjoyed his time, and it had proven that he was capable of hiding his darker aura among the wizards. It was nice to know that he was able to conceal himself, and that he was able to fit in with them.

Feeling cheerful he headed home. However, he was not prepared to walk in and discover his papa calmly drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

“Papa,” Hadrian exclaimed in surprise.

“Hadrian,” his papa replied in a low, dangerous tone.

Hadrian cautiously skittered around his papa sensing his anger and displeasure.

“Where’s Alana?” Hadrian asked.

“I sent her home after removing the trance you placed her under. Luckily, it was well done. Who knows the harm that could have been to her mind had it not been especially without anyone else around to observe her while she was under such an influence,” his said mildly.

“Papa I…”

“What were hoping to accomplish by going off on your own?” his papa cut him off.

Hadrian see any reason to lie. “I saw the entrance to the wizarding alley. I wanted to see it for myself.”

“After I specifically told you no?”

“Yes,” Hadrian hung his head.

“I have the rules I do to protect you, Hadrian. You are not yet ready to be among wizards. They are not like normal humans. They are more aware of the supernatural, and if they were to ever discover you they would seek to destroy you. Just like they have destroyed our kind in the past. Our powers may be greater but their larger numbers could easily overwhelm us. Never forget that,” his papa said softly.

“I know papa. But I’m just curious can you blame for that. I got that from you after all,” Hadrian tried for a winning smile.

His papa just stared blankly at him not in the least bit charmed.

“You will have extra chores for the next month. You will also be grounded for the next two weeks as punishment for disobeying my rules,” his papa announced.

“But papa…” Hadrian cried. Being ground meant that Hadrian wouldn’t be allowed to hunt or even stretch his legs in his ravenstag form. It would cause him to feel cooped up, and anxious. It wasn’t damaging in anyway, his papa would never do anything to hurt him, but it would be very irritating.

“No, it was your own choice to disobey my rules. You knew the consequences of such actions,” his papa stated sternly.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Hadrian apologized.

“I know you must be curious about the wizards. I will see what I can do,” his papa relented.

“Thank you, papa.”

“Don’t do it again,” his papa held out his arms and Hadrian quickly slid into them. There was no place he felt safer than in his papa’s arms. He knew that he would be able to get through anything as long as his papa was by his side.

Five Years Later

“I have a question about last week’s homework, Mr. Hardwicke,” Hadrian requested of his chemistry teacher.

Mr. Hardwicke only replied with a muffled response, annoyance in his gaze.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it,” Hadrian cocked his head and reached over to pull the gag from his mouth.

“I always knew there was something wrong with you. You sick b—”

Hadrian stuffed the gag back in his mouth flashing his favorite teacher a smile that showed far too many teeth.

“Curse words? That’s awfully rude, Mr. Hardwicke. But then again it is to be expected from a rude man like yourself.”

The man glared back hatred and fear in his eyes. The man was surprisingly perceptive. From the first moment Hadrian had walked into his classroom the man had hated him. No matter how innocent he acted or how hard he worked, the man simply disliked him. It happened from time to time his father had told him. There were some humans who just had better instincts than others. They could sense the predator in Hadrian. For some it made them want to draw closer, and for others it instilled an instinctive fear that most often led to hate. Mr. Hardwicke had been of the latter variety.

Mr. Hardwicke was a rational man who loved math and science. He hated the fact that he had an irrational fear of one his students, and treated Hadrian with extreme loathing. It didn’t help that he was used to being the smartest man in the room, after all that’s why he had been employed by the prestigious Baltimore private school, and Hadrian’s intelligence made him feel inferior. The man had even gone so far as to taunt Hadrian openly in class, and to give him failing grades on his papers and tests. Hadrian had borne this treatment for months. His father had offered to speak to the principal. But Hadrian wanted to deal with it on his own, and he had something else in mind for his teacher. He waited patiently until his teacher headed off for his annual retreat to his cabin in the woods. Then he struck. Everyone would assume he’d gotten lost in the woods, and savaged by an animal.

“I’m going to give you a chance, though. A chance to save yourself. I’m going to free you, and the only thing you need to do is get away from me. What do you think of that?” Hadrian questioned, and once more removed the gag.

“I think that you’re going to prison. I know these woods like the back of my hand,” Hardwicke sneered. It wasn’t exactly a smart thing to boast but then again for such an intelligent man he certainly lacked common sense.

Hadrian smirked, and began to untie him. He knew that the moment he was free Hardwicke would try and attempt to overpower him. Hadrian was going to show him why such an attempt would be futile.

Hardwicke was completely passive up until the point where the last of his restraints were removed. He attempted to tackle Hadrian and restrain him. Hadrian allowed him to wrestle him to the floor. The change from human form to wendigo crept slowly other his features. Hadrian savored the look of pure terror that flashed over Hardwicke’s features as he came face to face with a monster straight out of the darkest depths of his mind. The man screamed like a woman and jumped away from him, scrambling away like a frightened rabbit.

“What are you?” Hardwicke gasped.

“A creature from the darkest depths of your fears,” Hadrian responded as he stood to his full height knowing how impressive he looked.

In some myths wendigos were thought to be giants. They were partly true, and to humans they were certainly large enough. Hadrian had grown quite a bit over the years. He hadn’t quite reached his father’s impressive height of nearly eight feet but he was at least seven now. His horns had also grown and branched out. Again they weren’t anywhere near the impressive set that his father carried but they were certainly sharp enough to gouge a person to death.

“No, this isn’t happening. This is just a dream,” Hardwicke whispered.

“A nightmare,” Hadrian corrected with a flash of sharp teeth. “And you should really start running.”

The man didn’t need further encouragement. He clambered out the door and into the night. Hadrian waited patiently giving the man a good ten-minute start to allow him the brief hope that he had lost him. Then he was off, sprinting through the trees following the sweet scent of Hardwicke’s fear. Hadrian came upon him surprisingly quickly, and it took mere moments to dispatch him.

Afterwards as Hadrian was heading home he felt a vague sense of disappointment. Hunting Hardwicke wasn’t as satisfying as he had hoped. Perhaps his father was right. The older he got the less of a thrill hunting humans became. The physical aspect wasn’t a challenge anymore. Hadrian found himself wanting a new challenge. He wanted to play the mind games his father was so adept at, and he knew just the people he wanted to try it with. After his sojourn into the wizard shopping alley all five years prior his father had started taking him on short trips to introduce him to supernatural world. They socialized with wizards and even took a few trips to the larger wizarding villages. It had allowed Hadrian to adapt and familiarize himself with their culture. He was confident that he was now capable of fitting in among them.

“How was your trip to your uncle’s?” his father asked as he returned home that evening.

Even though Hadrian was careful in his hunting his father always made sure to spin the tale that he was visiting his mother’s brother when he stepped out for a hunt. Just in the event that he would need an alibi.

“Fine,” Hadrian responded.

His father’s gaze lingered over him trying to assess his mood. “Did you bring anything back?”

Hadrian handed his father the cooler containing Mr. Hardwicke’s liver.

A small smile creased his father’s face as he peeked inside. “This is just what I needed for tonight’s meal.”

“Would you like some help?” Hadrian asked.

“Of course, and then perhaps you can tell me what is bothering you,” his father’s gaze met his own.

“We can discuss it over dinner,” Hadrian finally said. He wanted a little more time to think over his own plans.

His father nodded his acceptance as patient as always. The two of them slipped into the kitchen to prepare dinner. They worked in companionable silence borne of years of working in tandem together. They set the dining table, and sat down to eat. Hadrian waited until they had both taken several bites of their meals before broaching the subject.

“How would you feel if I went to England for the summer?” Hadrian asked to start off the conversation.

His father’s fork paused half way to his mouth before he was able to collect himself enough to bring it all the two his mouth. He took his time chewing to give Hadrian’s question the proper amount of time to settle in his mind.

“What has brought on this decision?”

“I don’t want to be Harry Potter but I’d liked to pretend to be,” Hadrian said choosing his words carefully. “I want the chance to see the world I could have grown up. I want to meet the people who knew my birth parents and see what they think of me.”

“Revenge is a childish endeavor, Hadrian,” his father chided.

“Who said anything about revenge?” Hadrian frowned.

“Lying to me is pointless, Hadrian, and it will only embarrass the both of us. I know you want to pick apart this dark wizard to prove yourself superior to him. You have grown bored of human prey and wish to seek more dangerous game,” his father said staring him down.

Hadrian couldn’t hide anything from his father. “All right, I’ll concede and agree that is partially the reason I want to go. But I’m also curious as to what would happen if I were to reintroduce myself into the lives of the wizards who revered me as their savior from the dark.”

“You may be powerful, Hadrian, but you must remember that you are not omnipotent. Playing with humans isn’t the same as playing with wizards. Yes, they are suspect to the same flaws as humans but their magic makes them more dangerous and more capable of defeating you. They also have greater numbers. That is how they were successful in wiping out our kind before. You are young and you would be alone against enemies who would see you dead,” his father explained worry creasing his features.

“I’m not a child anymore. I want the chance to play my own games. I see the way you hide plain sight. I want to test my own skills,” Hadrian said firmly.

“I do not feel comfortable letting you go so far away, all on your own for the first time,” his father was frowning.

“You’ve taught me well, papa. I won’t reveal my true, and I would know if I got myself into a situation that was beyond my control. I can do this. Please let me go,” Hadrian pleaded.

“You are seventeen, soon to be eighteen. I know you are an intelligent and careful young man. But forgive a father’s concern. I will always be worried about you. I have raised you since you were a young boy, and sometimes I still see you as such. If you are determined to go I cannot stop you. You will have to learn what it means to be on your own eventually. I can only ask that you be cautious and that return to me,” his father said softly.

“Thank you, papa,” Hadrian said a smile stretching its way across his features.

“Now, eat your dinner. You know how I feel about letting it sit for too long. It’s not fair to the food after all it went through to make its way to our table.”

In answer Hadrian picked up his fork and began to eat. The wizarding world wouldn’t know what hit it.

Chapter Text

A week later saw Hadrian disembarking from the airport into London, England. He settled into his hotel room, and then he began to enact his plan. Before he left his father had made him construct a well thought out plan. His father then helped him iron out the finer details of his plan before he let him go.

Dawning a set of black and silver robes Hadrian prepared himself for his entrance to the wizarding world. He already knew the location to the entrance to Diagon Alley and Hadrian was planning on the alleyway being his first stop. The Leaky Cauldron was a dark and dingy little place but it didn't seem to matter to all of the wizards and witches who frequented it. Bar flies and families with small children alike resided in the pub. Hadrian breezed through the bar and out into the back alley. He'd timed it just right and was able to slip through as a group of redheads opened the brick wall leading into the alley.

Hadrian quickly broke off from the loud and rambunctious group. He had somewhere he wanted to stop first. It would be a lie to say that Hadrian wasn't impressed with Diagon Alley. The alleyway was older than any wizarding village in America, and the magic surrounding it thrummed against his skin. Hadrian soon made his way to the shop he wanted to see, Ollivander's.

He stepped inside the small, cluttered shop. It was dark and boxes upon boxes of wands lay scattered every which way. The shop was empty of customers and Hadrian's eyes flickered about trying to find the shopkeeper. He was a bit surprised when a man suddenly appeared before him. Not even Hadrian's sharp senses had been capable of sensing the wizard's presence. The man's silvery eyes flickered over Hadrian. An intensity to gaze that Hadrian wasn't used to experiencing.

"This is a day I never expected to see Mr. Potter," Ollivander said by way of greeting.

Hadrian refused to show his surprise and calmly replied, "It's Lecter now, actually."

"Ah, of course. Well, Mr. Lecter, I assume you want a wand?"

"Yes, I do."

"Your father favored a mahogany, 11 inches, very pliable and excellent for transfiguration. While your mother favored a willow, 10 a quarter inches, swishy, and perfect for charm work. But I suppose neither of those traits would apply to you, Mr. Lecter. After all you don't really even need a wand," Olivander said cryptically.

"No, I don't, and I'm sure I don't have to threaten you Mr. Ollivander to keep my secrets," Hadrian purred.

"Of course not, Mr. Lecter. I would never be foolish enough to cross one of your kind. Now, I think I have just the wand for you," with that the wizard disappeared only to return with a long thin box.

From the box he pulled a holly wand passing it over to Hadrian. He took it in his hand and dark red sparks burst from the tip. It was almost as if a shower of blood had burst from it. There was a slight tingle in his body as if a long lost echo of his wizarding magic was attempting to connect to the wand.

"I've had several long years to think of the wand that would have chosen Harry Potter had he lived. I knew this one would be it. No wizard made wand will ever truly choose you, Mr. Lecter. But I believe this one will settle for you considering you are were once it's true partner," Ollivander said looking almost regretful for the loss of the wizard Harry Potter may have been, had he not become Hadrian Lecter.

"And what is so special about it?" Hadrian questioned. He'd already tucked the wand away and had pulled out the appropriate amount of galleons.

"The phoenix that gave the feather in that wand gave only one other feather. The other feather resides in the wand of the Dark Lord," Ollivander explained.

"Brother wands," Hadrian whispered a terrible smile stretching across his face. This wand would be perfect for his plans against Voldemort.

Hadrian didn't miss the shudder that ran through the old man. He could scent the man's fear. Despite the man's impressive intuition or perhaps because of it he knew to fear Hadrian and his intentions.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Ollivander, and thank you for everything. I truly appreciate all your help," Hadrian tipped the coins into his palm.

"Goodbye, Mr. Lecter," Ollivander whispered softly as Hadrian exited the shop.

With a wand securely in his possession Hadrian set out to play at being a wizard. Specifically he played the part of a tourist from wizarding America. He stopped in a few of the other shops making sure that he was seen quite a bit, and in turn he kept an eye out for friends of his biological parents. Hadrian was well prepared for this trip. He'd done research on the lives of his biological parents and the people they associated with. He was also up to date on the current events in the wizarding world.

The Ministry of Magic was hopeless against Voldemort barely recognizing that he had returned all the while his supporters infiltrated the Ministry more and more every day. The Order of the Phoenix was Voldemort's only true opposition. It was a group led by Albus Dumbledore the man who seemingly controlled everything in the war effort against Voldemort. He was also the one who had placed him with the Dursleys. Hadrian had planned his downfall as well. In fact once Hadrian was through the entirety of the Britain's wizarding world would be in shambles.

It took three days of loitering around the alley before Hadrian caught sight of someone he recognized. It was Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. Black was tall and broad with long wavy dark hair that only had a touch of gray to it. No doubt from his time in Azkaban. Lupin was thinner and ragged looking with scars tracing across his worn features. Hadrian easily caught the scent of werewolf. Werewolves were one of Hadrian's things to hunt. On the full moon they were vicious beasts, and quite difficult to subdue. However, Lupin looked liked he'd been poisoning his wolf, and probably wasn't capable of putting up much of a fight against Hadrian's ravenstag form. Hadrian concealed his scent to ensure that the werewolf wouldn't discover him. He then followed the two men as they headed into Gringotts but did not follow them inside. Hadrian waited patiently for them to return. Nearly a half hour later they departed from the bank moving quickly back down the street.

Hadrian decided to run into them, literally.

"Hey, watch where you're going kid," Black barked as Hadrian knocked into them and causing the bag he was carrying to fall.

"Sorry, sir, didn't see you there," Hadrian apologized scrambling to pick up the things on the ground.

Hadrian's interest was piqued when he saw the cup, and sensed the dark magic coming from it.

Black snatched it from him, and Hadrian finally straightened up to face the two wizards for the first time.

"Right, I'm sure. Bloody tourists, I swear they get ruder every… James?" gasped Black as he finally got a good look at Hadrian's face. Lupin had gotten a look a long time ago and was simply gazing at Hadrian with a stunned expression.

"Excuse me?" Hadrian said politely making sure his American accent was obvious.

"James, you look…you look just like James," Black stuttered out in awe.

"Uh, sorry but I don't know any James. You must have me confused with someone else," Hadrian shrugged apologetically. "Listen, sorry about bumping into you but I have to go."

"Harry?" Lupin questioned, timid hope in his eyes.

"Um, no sorry, my name's Hadrian," Hadrian frowned.

Black quickly moved to brush his purposely-messy hair from his forehead to reveal the lightening bolt-shaped scar. Hadrian had darkened the practically faded scar for just this purpose. Lupin was gazing into his green eyes searching for some sign that Hadrian recognized them. Hadrian had bought green contacts as close to his previous eye color as he could manage. It would be enough to fool them. After all the years would have muddled with their memories enough to forget the exact color of Lily Potter's eyes.

"Harry," Black gasped tears in his eyes as he enveloped Hadrian in a tight hug. "Oh, thank Merlin. I can't believe it's really you. You're really alive."

"Sirius we can't do this here," Lupin shifted nervously. "You know he has spies everywhere."

"Right, come with us," Black commanded, already tugging Hadrian down the street without even so much as asking.

"Listen, sir. I don't know who you are, and I'm not going with you," Hadrian extracted himself from tight Black's grip.

"But Harry, it's me, Sirius. Padfoot, your godfather," Black cried desperately.

"I don't know who you are, and I don't know any Harrys. My name is Hadrian Lecter. I'm here on a backpacking trip through Europe from America before I go to college next year. I'm just passing through," Hadrian insisted.

"Were you adopted?" Lupin asked, remaining practical while his friend allowed himself to be overcome with his emotions. Black's overemotional state, and desperate need for a connection, no doubt caused from years in Azkaban, would be something Hadrian could exploit to his advantage later on.

"I was… How did you know that?" Hadrian asked, appearing uncomfortable but interested.

"Har—Hadrian we would really like to sit down talk with you. We think we might know you or who you were. Would you be comfortable with going to a muggle café?" Lupin suggested.

"I suppose I can. I was supposed to catch a boat to France later in the day but I'm not really on any sort of schedule," Hadrian shrugged. "I'd like to hear what you have to say especially how you knew I was adopted."

"Great, I know just the place," Lupin turned and led the way from the alley.

Black continued to send Hadrian longing glances. It was obvious he wanted to say something to Hadrian but every time he opened his mouth, Lupin would gently touch his arm to remind him to keep quiet. Hadrian kept his silence as well, playing the part of a teenage boy who'd had his world suddenly turned upside down. Inside he was doing cartwheels, thrilled to finally have the chance to put all of his plans into actions.

They made their way out of the Leaky Cauldron onto Charring Cross Road. They walked down several streets before coming to a relatively secluded café. The three of them found a private table in the corner to sit, and Lupin covertly cast a few privacy and notice-me-not wards around them.

"Now, explain. How did you know about my scar, and that I was adopted?" Hadrian demanded.

"Hadrian, you look just like one of our best friends, James Potter. He and his wife were murdered. I assume you know about You-Know-Who if you've spent even a little bit of time in Diagon Alley," Lupin began.

"I've heard about him. Even back home they talk about him, and I did my research before I decided to take a trip here," Hadrian answered.

"Good, that's good. James and his wife Lily were murdered by You-Know-Who. They had a son, Harry. He survived the attack somehow, and was hailed as the wizarding world's savior," Lupin continued.

"I've heard the story. The Boy-Who-Lived, he was sent to live with his muggle relatives but they were all murdered a few years later. They never found the one responsible," Hadrian said in hopes of moving things along.

"No, they didn't. But you see Harry's body was never found in the house along with his relatives," Lupin said, watching Hadrian's reactions carefully while also keeping a close eye on Black. The dark haired wizard appeared to be torn between exploding into an angry outburst, and having an utter meltdown.

"You think I'm Harry Potter," Hadrian said as if the thought had just occurred to him.

"Harry was known for having a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, just like yours," Lupin said.

"It's a difficult thing to fake a curse scar like," Black insisted even though he hadn't actually scanned the scar for residual magic. The man was simply desperate for any excuse to prove that Hadrian was his lost godson.

"If I was Harry Potter, don't you think I would remember it?" Hadrian demanded.

"Whoever took you must have obliviated you," Black snarled.

"What's your first memory?" Lupin asked much more gently.

"Waking up in an orphanage in America. The people there said they had found me on the front porch. They never found out where I had come from, and I didn't even remember my own name. I ended up being adopted by a wizarding couple about a year later. They raised me and treated me wonderfully. I grew up in the American wizarding world," Hadrian explained.

"It doesn't make sense," Lupin muttered.

"Who cares Moony? We have Harry back," Black cried.

"You can't be sure that I'm really Harry Potter just because of a scar," Hadrian argued.

"I know my godson. You are him," Black swore.

"The similarities are uncanny, and unlikely," Lupin mumbled.

"Say that I am him, what would it mean?" Hadrian asked.

"It means that you could stay with us," Black looked so hopeful.

Hadrian couldn't resist crushing him a bit.

"I'm sorry but I already have a family, and a home. I'm going to college in the fall. I can't stay here," Hadrian told him softly.

"You can't just leave. Not when we've just found you. There's so much we can share with you about your parents," Black cried, looking slightly manic.

"Maybe you could stay a few days. You're on vacation right?" Hadrian nodded to Lupin's query. "We could introduce you to some of your birth parent's old friends, and tell you a little bit about them."

"I don't know. I'm still not sure if I'm really Harry Potter," Hadrian replied, maintaining the façade of appropriate skepticism.

"You smell like Harry," Lupin said quietly, uncomfortable with sharing this information for fear of being caught out as being a werewolf.

Hadrian inwardly congratulated himself on successful confusing the werewolf's senses. But then again the Wolfsbane Potion certainly helping in dulling the wolf's senses.

"Here, look at this picture and tell me you aren't Harry Potter," Black shoved a moving picture of a young couple with a young baby under his nose.

Hadrian looked over the picture. He had never seen his birth parents before. Not even in the deepest depths of his mind garden was he able to retrieve memories of their faces. Black was right he looked at great deal like James Potter in the shape of his jaw, chin, and brow. However, Lily Potter's features lent him a more refined and sophisticated look with the higher cheekbones, and almond shaped eyes. Hadrian also regarded his younger self. The baby in the picture was smiling and giggling as his obviously adoring parents doted on him. Hadrian allowed himself a moment of weakness to wonder what could have happened had his parents lived. He ruthlessly pushed the thoughts aside. Hadrian was happy being what he was. He wouldn't change a thing about himself.

"Okay, so maybe there's a bit of a resemblance," Hadrian conceded.

"A bit? You look just like him," Black barked.

"Maybe I am Harry Potter. Or at least I was once. Either way. I guess I'd like to find out. I've always wondered about where I came from. I guess this is my chance to find out, huh?"

Black was giving him a huge grin. "You'll come with us?"

"Well, as long as you promise you aren't murderers trying to lure me back with you," Hadrian chuckled.

Naturally the two of them had no idea that Hadrian was well aware of just who the two of them were. If he hadn't he never would have followed two strange men home so willingly. Lupin and Black were far too wrapped up in their discovery to really contemplate just how strange it was for Hadrian to be so accepting of their story. Although, Black thought he was being too resistant to their advances, which worked out well for Hadrian. The two were far too confident in their abilities to recognize him, and it made them all the more willing to bring a veritable stranger to their home.

Black barked out a laugh. "You don't have worry about anything like that from us."

"I'm just glad you ran into us first. Who knows what the Death Eaters would have done to you if they'd found you first," Lupin worried.

Black likewise tensed up, and fear flashed across his features. He scanned the area as if expecting they were about to be jumped.

"We should get going. The others will be worried over what's kept us so long," Lupin was glancing around now as well.

Hadrian's thoughts went back to the cup laced with dark magic. Just what were the Order of the Phoenix up to? Hadrian would have to examine the cup more closely, but for a moment the dark magic had felt familiar. It had almost felt like a horcrux.

"Let's go then," Hadrian enthused.

"First, read this," Black wrote something on a napkin and slipped it to Hadrian.

"The Order of the Phoenix is located at Number 12, Grimmauld Place," Hadrian read. The wizards really were too trusting to allow him access to their secret headquarters.

"It's my family's old place. We've cleaned it up a bit since then to make it somewhat hospitable," Black shrugged.

"Here, I'll side along with you," Lupin offered Hadrian his arm.

Hadrian took his arm, and allowed the wizard to apparate them even though he loathed apparation. It was such a messy way to travel. Hadrian much preferred the shadow travel his father had taught him. The three of them landed just outside a row of old homes. Hadrian watched, feigning interest, as Number 12 made its appearance between Numbers 11 and 13. Hadrian followed the two wizards up the steps into the old house. The place was clean and appeared to have recently undergone some renovations. The three of them made their way down the hallway into a drawing room where a group of young wizards and witches sat around playing games.

"They're back!" a red haired girl shouted.

There seemed to be an awful lot of redheads around here. Hadrian counted four right off the bat.

More wizards poured into the room. All of them were congratulating Black and Lupin on a successfully completed mission, and worrying over how long they had taken to return. Black turned over the bag with the cup to the oldest wizard in the room. The old wizard had a long white beard and hair, and bright periwinkle robes with silver stars. Hadrian easily recognized him to be the one and only Albus Dumbledore. The excited chattering tapered off as more and more of them noticed Hadrian standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Who is this, my boys?" Dumbledore questioned his twinkling blue eyes shrewdly as he looked Hadrian over.

Hadrian felt a moment of panic that the powerful old wizard might be able to sense what he really was. But it passed when he didn't call Hadrian out.

"This is the reason why we were late," Black announced proudly. "Everyone I'd like you to meet my godson, Harry Potter."

"It's Hadrian actually, Hadrian Lecter," Hadrian corrected politely.

The room dissolved into shouts of shock, surprise, and anger. Some were thrilled at the discovery while others scolded Lupin and Black for falling for his scheme and bringing him to their headquarters. Eventually Dumbledore called them to order.

"Perhaps, we might here Sirius and Remus's explanation of events before we jump to conclusions?" Dumbledore offered.

Black and Lupin listed the sequence of events to the rest of the Order.

"Certainly, even you buffoons weren't stupid enough to bring some boy off the streets here without concrete proof he is Harry Potter," a swallow faced, greasy haired man drawled.

Hadrian's gaze flickered to the dark haired man. He took in the hooked nose and the black eyes, and recognized him from Voldemort's memories to be Severus Snape. He had been Voldemort's potion master, and the one to turn over the prophecy to Voldemort. He later became a spy for Voldemort within the Order. Hadrian wondered at the man's loyalty. For surely a man such as he could only be loyal to himself, and his own interests.

"We don't need to prove anything to you, Snivellus," Black snapped.

"Check his scar Albus, surely if anyone would be able to determine if it was the same it would be you," Lupin insisted.

Hadrian doubled checked the barriers around his mind, which contained his darker magic as Dumbledore drew towards him. Hadrian helpfully lifted the bangs of his hair for Dumbledore to closely examine the shape of the scar. The head of the Order's face remained expressionless as he examined Hadrian's scar, and then spent some time looking over the features of his face.

"Harry, my boy, we all had given you up for dead," Dumbledore declared with a wide smile.

It was difficult for Hadrian to determine whether or not the old wizard was being sincere or not. It would bear watching. But the acceptance would be all the window he needed into sowing the chaos he had planned for the Order. To most of the Order Dumbledore's stamp of approval seemed to be enough to accept that he was Harry Potter.

Only two were still skeptical of him. Snape, and an older wizard with a peg leg and a magical eye. The other's referred to him as Mad-Eye, and was the most paranoid individual Hadrian had ever met. Hadrian could sense the magical eye scanning him. There were no exterior spells hiding his appearance or magic for Mad-Eye to discover. Hadrian was employing a technique unique to wendigos that was similar to Occlumency to block off a part of his magic within the realms of his own mind. Magical eyes couldn't break through a wizard's Occlumency barriers, and Mad-Eye certainly couldn't get through his. But still the old grizzled wizard seemed to be suspicious of strangers on principle as he should be.

Hadrian was carried through the house into the kitchen where introductions were made, and a middle-aged witch, also a redhead, piled food on a plate for him. Hadrian graciously accepted. As a wendigo he was always hungry even if this particular meal didn't exactly satisfy him. That would soon be rectified.

The entire Order seemed to be in residence of Grimmauld Place at the moment because of the mission that Lupin and Black had gone on. They were all eager to ask Hadrian questions about where he had been for the past twelve years. Hadrian crafted a persona of an easygoing, playful young man that soon put all others at ease around him. He expressed multiple times his shock over his good fortune at finding out where he had come from. Hadrian regaled them with made up tales of his childhood, how he had been homeschooled, and even made up a love for Quodpot. The British wizards were understandably scandalized and wanted to introduce him to glory of Quidditch.

By the end of the day Hadrian had won them over, even grizzled old Mad-Eye Moody. The only one still antagonistic to him was Severus Snape. But Black assured that Snape would have hated him no matter what because he hated his father. Hadrian sensed a schoolboy rivalry between Snape, and James Potter. The rivalry still continued considering the nasty words that Black and Snape were constantly lobbing at one another. Hadrian promised himself to keep an eye on Snape. He was sly and resourceful. Hadrian didn't want to be caught unawares by the man.

Hadrian learned all of the names of the Order members, and began cataloging their skills. He placed close attention to those in his own age group since they were the ones he would be spending most of his time with. There were the Weasleys, the red haired family full of loud, and brash fools. There were the parents Molly and Arthur and their six offspring. Apparently there was one more but he split from the family in favor of a position within the Ministry. Several of them were quite powerful and clever. The twins Fred and George would definitely bear watching closely especially considering they kept trying to spike his drink with strange things.

The others were Hermione Granger, an intelligent witch whose research skills were unparalleled. Her weakness was her belief in her authority figures, and her utter belief that books held all of the answers. Luna Lovegood was an interesting girl, and seemed to have gotten involved through being friends with the Weasley's only daughter, Ginny. She was an odd girl that Hadrian just couldn't quite understand. She was interesting enough for him to spend some time observing her. Neville Longbottom a quiet but confident boy, and Dean Thomas a sturdy and brave young man who was dating the Weasley were the ones who to round out the rest of younger group.

The teenagers who were of age were allowed to attend meetings but were not often allowed to go out on missions unless it was absolutely necessary. It also appeared that only a few prized members of the Order were in the know about just what that cup Lupin and Black retrieved. The more Hadrian heard the more certain he was that the cup was a horcrux. The Order was hunting them down, and destroying them. It certain made Hadrian's job easier if they were collecting the pieces for him.

Luna and Ginny were the youngest members of the Order, and technically weren't actual members just yet. They going in to their last year at the wizarding school, Hogwarts, while the rest had graduated. Hadrian had been left to the younger wizards because the older ones wanted to protect him from information that might terrify him. They didn't want to scare him away by telling him all about how much Voldemort would try to kill him if he knew he was alive. People like Black and Lupin were simply grateful that he was alive while the more manipulative like Dumbledore saw his reappearance as the chance to turn the tides of the war. Either way they were desperate to keep him close. It made Hadrian quietly snicker to himself. If only they knew of the things he'd seen and done.

That night they had a large celebratory dinner for Hadrian's return. Hadrian reluctantly agreed to stay to get to know them for a couple of weeks. They would spend their weeks trying to get Hadrian to stay with them not knowing that there was no need to convince him. But Hadrian would spend these next few weeks revising his plans now that he actually knew the people he was working with. At the very least he would begin his plans for Voldemort.

Chapter Text

"And then your mum slapped him," Black said before dissolving into laughter.

Black, Lupin, and Hadrian were all looking through a photo album full of pictures of Lily and James Potter. Black and Lupin, but mostly Black, were regaling him with tales from their youth, and all of the failed attempts James Potter had made in wooing Lily Evans.

Hadrian laughed along with him even though Black had already told him this story two days earlier. The wizard had spent the past two weeks glued to Hadrian's side. Despite this Hadrian had been able to gather quite a bit of information on the wizards in the Order of the Phoenix. He had also picked his first target. The youngest Weasley boy had seriously gotten on Hadrian's nerves with his rude behavior. At first he had tried to befriend Hadrian but his brash arrogance at turned Hadrian off so naturally Hadrian had been politely cold towards him in hopes of him getting a hint. But he hadn't, and so Hadrian was forced to kindly ask him to back off a bit. The red haired wizard hadn't taken it well.

Things were made worse when Hermione Granger, the intelligent muggleborn witch, had taken up the position to better acquaint Hadrian with the British wizarding world. Ronald hadn't liked that. He had a crush on Miss Granger, maybe even loved her. Hadrian had just been using her kindness as she was a good source of information. But after the antagonism, and snide comments Ronald had been sending his way Hadrian began actively flirting with her just to aggravate him further. Not that Hermione noticed. The witch wouldn't have known flirting if it hit her in the face. It did wonders in driving a wedge between the two friends. They already bickered quite a bit so it wasn't hard to turn their little squabbles into full-blown arguments.

Of course Ronald blamed him, and was constantly starting fights with Hadrian making himself look like even more of a jealous fool to everyone else. Hadrian used this to his advantage by speaking calmly to Ronald, and trying to reason with him. It helped him to build the image that he was an honorable, and kind young man who didn't lose his temper in an argument. However, despite its advantages Ronald was really beginning to get on Hadrian's last nerve, and so he'd been planning the young wizard's death. He hadn't intended on killing a relatively useless member of the Order first thing as there would have been no real benefit behind it. However, Hadrian feared he would lash out and kill him in front of everyone if he didn't take care of the problem soon.

Tonight was a full moon, and Lupin would take his normal position caged up in the basement. Hadrian had taken the liberty of switching Lupin's latest vial of Wolfbane potion. Instead of the docile creature they were all expecting, Lupin would be transforming into the vicious werewolf he was meant to be. Hadrian would let the poor wolf out to play, and in the ensuing chaos Hadrian would take care of Ronald. Everyone would simply think that Lupin had mauled him. Any other causalities would be a bonus, and it would certainly crush Lupin's spirits. It was all a win-win for Hadrian. He got rid of Ronald, and hopefully there would be a couple of other deaths. All of it accomplished at the hands of one of their own members. It would certainly lower the morale of all of the Order members.

"Hadrian, my boy," Dumbledore greeted as he swept into the room.

"Mr. Dumbledore," Hadrian smiled at the old wizard while inwardly he was seething at the wizard's familiarity with him.

"I thought the two of us might talk a bit," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Of course, I'll be right back," Hadrian told Black and Lupin.

Black looked like he wanted to protest but he didn't go against Dumbledore's wishes of speaking to Hadrian alone.

The two of them went to an office that Hadrian suspected to be Black's departed father. Naturally Dumbledore sat behind the desk while Hadrian took the seat in front.

"I see you have been settling in nicely," Dumbledore commented jovially.

"Yes, sir, it's been really nice to learn all about my birth parents. It does make me wonder about who brought me to America, though," Hadrian replied.

"It is rather curious, and perhaps someday we can look into it more in the future. However, now I believe we need to focus on the present situation," And it was that belief that would ultimately be his downfall.

"And what situation would that be, sir?" Hadrian questioned timidly.

"I know over the past few days you have gotten to know a bit about the organization we have here, an organization your parents were a part of. Our goal is to stop Voldemort. As you are also now aware of, you are quite famous amongst us," Dumbledore began.

"Yeah, it's unbelievable to think that I survived the Killing Curse. How do you think that I did, sir?" Harry asked, curious as to what Dumbledore's thoughts on the subject were. Hadrian and his father had never come up with any clear ideas since neither of them had a clear idea of what had happened that night. Voldemort's memories from the horcrux of that night were a bit scattered, and Hadrian's own were that of an infant and were therefore reduced to bright blobs of color.

"Your mother sacrificed her life for you Harry. Her love provided you with a protection that Voldemort could not touch," Dumbledore explained.

"But a lot of mothers must have sacrificed themselves for their children," Harry replied.

"Yes, this is true. However, it is different in that Voldemort gave your mother three chances to step aside, and she didn't take any of them," Dumbledore explained gravely.

"I see," Hadrian nodded, looking appropriately solemn for the moment.

"Because of this failed attempt against your life, and the spell ricocheting to Voldemort destroying his body, it caused a piece of himself to lodge itself within you." Dumbledore murmured carefully.

"There's a piece Voldemort inside me?" Hadrian said terrified. Really he should win an Oscar for this performance.

"Yes, I'm afraid there is. That is why it is important that you join our cause. The only way for you to remove it is for you to help us defeat Voldemort," Dumbledore informed him.

"I don't understand why he even came after my parents and I to begin with," Hadrian cried.

"There was a prophecy foretelling the defeat of the Dark Lord," Dumbledore said.

"A prophecy? What did it say?" Hadrian asked. He'd heard a part of it from the memories in Voldemort's horcrux but Voldemort hadn't heard the entire thing.

"I was the one the prophecy was told to. It was during an interview with our current Divination professor, Sybil Trelawney. The prophecy in its entirety is: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and wither must die at the hand 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… One of Voldemort's followers heard the beginning but left to report to his master before hearing the entirety of it. Voldemort only heard the beginning of it and struck out to attack the boy he thought fit the description."

"Me," Hadrian nodded.

"You, and another."

"Who?" Hadrian questioned curious as he hadn't realized another fit the prophecy.

"Neville Longbottom. However, Voldemort chose you based on the beginning of the prophecy, and now I don't believe Neville would be able to complete the prophecy as Voldemort marked you," Dumbledore explained.

"There's no way I'm Voldemort's equal." No, Hadrian was much greater than he would ever be.

"I think you're wrong, my boy. I have watched you this past week and you have something that Voldemort will never have," Dumbledore said knowingly.

"What's that, sir?"

"The ability to care and love others," Dumbledore answered.

Hadrian stared at him, his mask slipping a bit in his shock. Was he being serious?

"My ability to love, sir?" Hadrian questioned slowly.

"Yes, Hadrian. There are some things that I would like to show you. Things that will help you if you agree to take on this mission I am imparting to you," Dumbledore said magnanimously.

"A mission?" Hadrian asked eagerly.

"I do not want to put you in danger, Hadrian, but I fear you are the only one who will be capable of defeating Voldemort, and saving our world from complete ruin."

"What about you, sir? Even in America they talk about Albus Dumbledore. They say you are the most powerful wizard in the world," Hadrian said, playing to the old wizard's vanity.

"It must be you, Hadrian. I understand that this may be a lot to take in, and feel like a lot of responsibility but I have faith in you, Hadrian," Dumbledore nodded sagely.

Hadrian was laughing inside. They had gone from Dumbledore asking Hadrian if he wanted to get involved to Dumbledore telling him there was no one else to stop Voldemort. He was trying to guilt Hadrian into feeling responsible for the wizarding world as if it would fall without his interference, which would have worked had Hadrian been who everyone thought he was. Perhaps Dumbledore would have realized something slightly off with Hadrian. But the wizard was getting older, and with Voldemort gaining power the old headmaster was being pulled in several different directions. He was also desperate for Hadrian's involvement. Now that Hadrian was proven to be alive he believed the horcrux inside Hadrian also existed. Dumbledore needed to get Hadrian out of the way.

"I'll do my best, sir," Hadrian told him tremulously.

"Wonderful, my boy. You won't be alone; you'll have the entire backing of the Order behind you. I have some classified information that I can share with you," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

Dumbledore brought the two of them to his office in Hogwarts where they spent the next couple of hours looking through memories he had collected of Voldemort in his pensieve. For the most part they were memories of things Hadrian and his father already knew about. It was rather boring but it was a good time for him to continue to gain the old headmaster's trust. Hadrian also learned which horcruxes the Order had been successful in destroying. They had destroyed Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Salazar Slytherin's locket. Apparently, Dumbledore knew the location of three others but had not had the chance to get to them seeing as one was Voldemort's snake, Nagini. Hadrian figured at least one of the others was himself.

Once through with the memories the two of them talked about revealing his presence to the rest of the wizarding world. They both agreed to wait for a couple of more weeks before revealing his existence.

Hadrian returned to Grimmauld Place around suppertime that evening. Dumbledore remained at Hogwarts. Hadrian took stock of who would be staying at Grimmauld Place that night. All of the younger Order members would be here just as they had been all summer. Black and Lupin of course, and the Weasley parents were in attendance. The other constant members of Grimmauld place were Nymphadora Tonks, Lupin's Auror/ metamorphomagis wife, the oldest Weasley, Bill, and Bill's part Veela wife, Fleur. The couple had been staying in Grimmauld Place since the destruction of the couple's cottage a few months prior.

Hadrian enjoyed his dinner, talking and laughing with everyone. He was in a good mood thinking of the impending chaos that he would soon cause. That night Tonks and Black led Lupin downstairs into the basement after he had taken his replaced potion to lock him up. Hadrian listened as Black and Tonks left the basement. Lupin would normally just sleep after the transformation thanks to the potion so there wasn't a need for anyone to stay around. Hadrian waited until Lupin completed the change before slipping through the shadows, down into the basement where the cage was kept. The trapped werewolf was enraged as it clawed against the bars of its cage wanting the freedom to run and hunt. It growled viciously as it caught Hadrian's scent, sensing another predator in its territory.

Hadrian snarled back. The werewolf whined and backed up into the corner when he realized Hadrian was a much deadlier predator than himself.

"Would you like to come out and play?" Hadrian crooned.

The werewolf whined, claws scraping against the stone floor unable to answer or truly understand in its current state of mind.

Hadrian smiled darkly at the werewolf. "Well then, let's get you out of here."

Hadrian broke the simple enchantments on the cage. They weren't very strong considering everyone believed the werewolf's nature would be subdued from the Wolfsbane. With another yank he pulled open the cage door, and stepped aside to let the werewolf pass. The werewolf hesitated for a moment, wary of Hadrian's presence. But when Hadrian remained perfectly still and unthreatening the beast shot up passed him, clambering up the stairs to the first level in his bid for escape. The werewolf was locked inside the house. Hadrian had made sure of it. He would become frantic once he realized he was trapped, and seek out the helpless wizards. It would be like trapping a piranha in a barrel with minnows. Hadrian returned to the room he shared with Ronald while he waited.

He didn't have to wait long. The crashes caused by the enraged and frantic werewolf woke up most of the house. Naturally, they all went to investigate worried they were under attack. Hadrian stopped Ronald from joining them.

"We don't know what's out there. We should stay here," Hadrian insisted in over exaggerated worry.

"What are you? A coward?" Ronald taunted.

"No, I just don't want to kill you in front of everyone," Hadrian continued in the same worried tone.

Ronald frowned, his slow mind attempting to process what Hadrian had just said. When he did he grappled for his wand. Hadrian pulled it from his pocket and waved it in front of his face.

"Looking for this? It's such a shame, wizards are rather useless without their little sticks," Hadrian taunted.

"You… I knew you were working with You-Know-Who," Ronald snarled advancing on Hadrian.

"Voldemort? Please as if I'd work for a madman like him. No, I'm going to kill you simply for my own amusement. Not the smartest thing to do but it will certainly be satisfying," Hadrian smirked, knowing that he couldn't drag this out for too long.

Ronald took a swing at him. Hadrian easily caught his hand, and with a quick wrench that his father had taught him he broke the wizard's arm. Before the wizard had a chance to scream, Hadrian disemboweled him. Ronald was still alive but just barely as Hadrian harvested his liver. Hadrian whistled pleasantly as he worked. It was almost a relief to end him. He hadn't hunted in weeks, and the itch had begun to eat away at him. The scent of blood brought the werewolf bursting through the door just like Hadrian knew it would. Its muzzle was already dripping red with the blood from another victim, and Hadrian wondered idly who else had died tonight. The werewolf fell upon the body as Hadrian excused himself to the attached bathroom to clean up, and stash the liver in a safe place to cook with later. It was also a great place to hole up, and pretend he'd been hiding the entire time.

Hadrian barricaded the door, and relaxed in the bathtub trying to decide what to make with his newly acquired meat. Outside the door he heard shouts, growls, and spells firing as the wizards caught up with the werewolf. The werewolf eventually must have escaped, and Ronald's mother must have found him if the piercing shriek of horror and sobbing was anything to go by. Hadrian waited patiently for the wizards to find him.

In the end it was Black who came for him, calling desperately to him from the other side of the bathroom door. Hadrian moved things out of the way, and opened the door. Black was liberally splattered with blood and looked like he'd had a few years added to his life.

"Is everything all right? What happened? I woke up to growls and something was attacking Ron. I couldn't find my wand, and I was so scared I just ran into the bathroom. I just left him," Hadrian cried as he rushed at Black.

"It's okay, Harry, I've got you," Black wrapped his arms around Hadrian, obviously needing the comfort more than Hadrian.

"Is Ron all right? What was that?" Hadrian sniffled.

"Remus got out, somehow when his potion failed. He attacked. We tried to stop him. Bill got mauled pretty bad but he's going to live. Ron… He…"

"What?" Hadrian demanded.

"He's dead," Black said solemnly.

"Dead? It's all my fault. If I hadn't run…" Hadrian cried, bringing out the tears.

"No, hey, it's not your fault. If it's anyone's fault it's Snape for not brewing the Wolfsbane correctly," Black snarled.

"How did Remus get out?" Hadrian questioned.

"It looks like he broke the door open. Come on let's get downstairs. Everyone will want to know that you're all right," Black slung an arm across his shoulders.

Downstairs was chaos. Things were destroyed, there was blood everywhere, and the portrait of Black's mother was screaming. McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Snape had arrived, and were attempting to calm everyone. Lupin was nowhere in sight so Hadrian figured that they had locked him back up in the basement after fixing the wards around the cage. Molly Weasley was sobbing over a sheet-covered figure that was vaguely human shaped while her husband looked on with a stunned expression adorning his face. Fleur, and a matronly lady Hadrian didn't know were tending to Bill Weasley who had obviously been savaged by the werewolf. Everyone else was crying or in various stages of shock.

Dumbledore looked relieved when Black arrived with him, whole and unharmed. Soon a fight broke out. Molly Weasley wanted revenge. She had one dead son, and another who had been horribly disfigured and would spend the rest of his life as a werewolf. She wanted Remus dead. Tonks, of course, wasn't going to stand for hearing that her husband should be put down like a rabid animal. Hermione tried to step between the two older witches and remind them that this was not a time to argue. But both were too high strung at the moment to listen to reason. Black added his two cents worth and began blaming Snape, which turned Tonks against the potions professor as well. Dumbledore stepped in to defend his spy.

Hadrian watched in delight as everything devolved even further. It had turned out better than he had planned. He must have looked a bit too happy for Snape gave him a dark, calculating look. Hadrian stared back until the professor was forced to look away. He needed to get rid of the man soon anyway. He couldn't allow someone who doubted him to spread that doubt to others. Eventually others would start listening no matter how much the others despised the man.

Dumbledore eventually got everyone under control, and sent everyone back up to bed. The rest of Ronald was brought to St. Mungos, and Bill was brought to Hogwarts by Madame Pomfrey, the matronly woman, for further treatment. Molly and Fleur went along with them. The rest of the mess would be cleaned up in the morning. McGonagall and Snape both decided to stay for the rest of the night just in case anything happened, and to help clean up in the morning.

Later that night, or rather very early that morning Hadrian enjoyed a private meal after carefully warding the kitchen to all but the one he wished to speak to. Wizard had a slightly different flavor than human, and of course the meal wasn't quite as good as his father could make. Hadrian knew how to cook and what flavors worked well together but he didn't have the same flare for it like his father did. He would have to call his father to let him know of his success so far.

"I don't know who you are, but you aren't Harry Potter," a deep baritone voice drawled from the shadows, interrupting his meal.

Hadrian turned to see Severus Snape extract himself from the shadows.

"And how can you be so certain I'm not?" Hadrian calmly asked in return. He knew the man wouldn't be able to resist confronting him after tonight's little mishap.

"I was Lily's best friend. I know her eyes. I remember her eyes. You don't have Lily's eyes. Oh, they're green but they aren't her green," Snape murmured darkly.

"And how would you know? Did you spend a lot of time gazing deeply into her eyes?" Hadrian taunted.

Snape reared back like an affronted snake about to strike. But Hadrian didn't allow him the chance to speak.

"You were in love with her, but she married another man. Left you without a thought for the greasy little boy who always followed her around," Hadrian purred.

"You know nothing!" Snape snarled.

"I know everything. You may be an accomplished Occlumens but not everyone else is. It was simple to look inside their memories to see your embarrassing infatuation with her," Hadrian informed him.

"Who are you?" Snape demanded.

"Oh, Severus, I almost liked you. It will be a shame to kill you. Unless of course you put down your mental shields so that I can erase your memories and get rid of all your suspicions towards me? Then you can live."

Snape gave him a blank look as he careful slipped his wand into his hand. If he were anyone else he might not have noticed, Snape's movements were so smooth.

"Hmm, I thought not," Hadrian sighed.

He really didn't want to kill him. In a way he admired the man's ability to hold a grudge, and the way he was able to navigate two different masters who happened to be two of the most powerful wizards in several centuries. It was just unfortunate that the man was as observant as he was.

Hadrian shoved a concentrated measure of power into the wizard, freezing him where he stood. It didn't take long for the wizard to realize his predicament. He began muttering counter curses in an attempt to free himself.

"Save your breath, Severus, you can't escape me," Hadrian laughed, allowing Snape to see the true color of his eyes.

"What are you?" Snape whispered, expertly keeping his fear from his features. But Hadrian could smell the beginnings of it on him.

"I was Harry Potter, once, that parts not a lie. Now? I'm something a little different," Hadrian replied circling closer to Snape with every pass like a shark circles its prey.

"What happened to you?" Snape questioned.

"I know what you're doing, Severus. You're stalling for time, hoping to find a chance to escape me. But that's all right, I don't mind. I'm not in any rush. No one's going to stumble upon us accidentally," Hadrian came to a stop in front of him.

"No, I truly wish to know. If you are going to kill me, I deserve to know," Snape insisted.

"What do you know about ravenstags?" Hadrian asked.

"Ravenstags? Wendigos?" Snape stared, a hint of fear finally leaking through into his eyes despite his mastery of occlumency.

Hadrian smirked. "Well done, Professor. And do you recall any of the characteristics of the wendigo?"

"They are vicious beasts often associated with cold and hunger. They are said to be cannibals with few, if any, morals. Their only desire, their only ambition, is to satisfy the unending emptiness inside them. But they can never be satisfied because their very nature won't allow them to. They are very difficult to kill. Wendigos were believed to be extinct," Snape murmured.

"Another excellent answer, Professor Snape, ten points to Slytherin. However, wendigos aren't extinct and we aren't just greedy for flesh. We like to amuse ourselves in other ways too. That's why I'm here, you see. We like playing with our food," Hadrian grinned.

Snape's features went slack, and even a few tears welled in eyes as he stared at Hadrian. "You switched the potion vials. You let Lupin out. You set him up to kill the Weasley boy."

"I did let Lupin out, it was quite simple. But Lupin didn't kill Ronald, I did. He was a very rude young man. I enjoyed dispatching him. Perhaps you'd like a taste?" Hadrian grinned, indicating his plate of food.

Snape's sallow expression tinged green.

"How could this have happened?"

"My father found me with the Dursleys. He'd come to murder them, the Dursleys, you see. My father hates rudeness and well, one meeting with the Dursleys was enough to convince him of their vulgar behaviors. He found me locked in a cupboard under the stairs. He took me with him, gave me a home, and cared for me. He changed me. Gave me the chance to have a better life, and now I've come to repay the people who left me to rot with the Dursleys. What do you think of the new and improved Harry Potter, Severus?" Hadrian asked as he took his true form.

"Oh, Lily, how I've failed you. I let this happen to your son," Snape whispered, utterly dejected.

Hadrian frowned. "Don't become hopeless now, Severus. It's no fun."

"Why not? You are a wolf in sheep's clothing, Lecter. None of the other fools will realize the monster they've invited in their midst before it's too late. You've won," Snape replied.

"You know what? I don't want to kill you like this," Hadrian returned to his human form, and released him from his hold.

Snape stared at him warily. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm letting you live, be grateful, and don't breathe word about what happened to anyone. Even if you do, they won't believe you. Not even Dumbledore. He's too pleased to have me back. He felt so guilty for causing my death, and now that I'm back it releases him from that crushing weight. Besides, he needs me to complete his little mission, and destroy all of Tommy Boy's horcruxes. I know for a fact he won't even hear anything you say. He won't even look into your memories where he could see the truth for himself. You've played your hand Snape, everyone knows you hate me, and now they think you're responsible for the attack. Everyone will hate you more than they already did. No one will want to hear anything you have to say," Hadrian grinned.

Snape glared at him helplessly.

"Goodnight, Severus, it was nice to have this little chat with you," Hadrian picked up his plate and left the kitchen.

Snape wouldn't make a move yet, and by the time he created a solid plan to get the others to listen to him, Hadrian would have already enacted his own in removing him.

/

Once upstairs Hadrian slipped into the mind of Voldemort. For such a powerful wizard his Occlumency barriers were woefully thin. But then again it was difficult to have strong mental defenses after splitting one's soul so many times. Even with the support of a Philosopher's Stone it couldn't quite heal all of the damage. Hadrian was able to slip inside the familiar pathways to his mind while the wizard was sleeping without him even realizing it.

Hadrian took his wendigo form as he moved through Voldemort's dark and murky mental landscape. The main structure of his mindscape was reminiscent of a castle but it was nowhere near as magnificent as his father's. The castle was in a state of deterioration. A few of the walls were crumbling, and weeds were growing up over them. Inside the castle was a little bit better thanks to the constant influx of the Elixir of Life. It was cleaner and more organized but Hadrian could still see the cracks running through the stone walls.

After a bit of snooping, Hadrian sought out Voldemort's consciousness. He found him in a chamber torturing various members of the Order of the Phoenix. Of course his dreams would be full of inflicting pain on his enemies. The Stone had allowed him to retain his handsome human appearance with thick dark hair, and a tall, well built frame. His eyes were the only things that reflected the damage he had truly done to himself. They were a bright, blood red much more garish than Hadrian and his father's darker shade. He appeared to be no older than in his mid-thirties. Hadrian cloaked the chamber in shadow, hiding all but his dark red eyes from Voldemort.

"What is happening? Who are you and how did you enter my mind?" Voldemort demanded, easily detecting that Harry's presence in his mind was more than just a dream.

"I've come to help you, Tom," Hadrian replied, changing the pitch of his voice to a deeper, darker, and more raspy tone.

"Name yourself!" Voldemort snarled, attempting to blast away the shadows.

"Calm yourself, Tom. I'm here to help you. I have vital information to give you," Hadrian spoke calmly.

"And why would you help me? Who are you?" Voldemort questioned shrewdly.

"My kind thrives on chaos, and you are certainly a master of causing it," Hadrian answered.

With a dramatic flare Hadrian removed the shadows, and stepped towards Voldemort in all his glory. Voldemort's eyes widened. His gaze flickered from his cloven hooves all the way up to his wicked, pointed antlers.

"What are you?" Voldemort questioned.

"A dark creature that would like to see the dark prevail over the light," replied Hadrian.

"You are a wendigo. I have read of them before. I thought they had all been destroyed for their wickedness," Voldemort mused.

"Not all of us, and I would have revenge against the Light wizards who sought my kind's destruction," Hadrian replied.

"I will hear what you have to say and then decide if you truly mean what you say. What information do you have for me?" Voldemort demanded imperiously. The dark wizard was nowhere near close to believing him but he was willing to humor him at the moment in the event that he had useful information.

"Harry Potter is alive," Hadrian said.

"What!? No, that's impossible," Voldemort snarled.

"Oh, but it is, and what is worse is that he is with the Order. Dumbledore is going to use him to defeat you. Especially now that he knows…" Hadrian trailed off.

"Knows what?" snapped Voldemort.

Hadrian knew he had him hooked now. "About your horcruxes, of course. He's begun collecting them even now, and destroying them."

"No, Severus would have told me," Voldemort denied.

"Like he told you about Harry Potter? He's known for weeks about the Boy-Who-Lived, and even longer about the horcruxes. Severus isn't as loyal to you as you think he is," Hadrian taunted.

"I'll kill him," Voldemort.

"Good," Hadrian hissed.

"I will have to prove these claims of yours," Voldemort hissed.

"I understand. I will visit again soon, Tom Riddle. By then you will believe what I have said. From there we can continue," Hadrian faded from Voldemort's before he could say anything else, closing the connection between them to keep the wizard from discovering him.

Feeling tired Hadrian settled down to slip. He'd had quite the busy day, and he needed his rest. But, oh, how wonderful everything had gone. Hadrian loved when things went his way.